Acme and Ecstasy
Joe Brewster
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2009 Transgressivefiction
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.
If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
oooOOOooo
Chapter 1
I walked up the stairs feeling anxious. The kind of jitters you get starting any new job-- even if the gig’s just a phone-jockey temp job at ACME Telemarketing.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Four women, each wearing telephone headsets, all looked up at once --- and smiled. They seemed to think having a guy around might be fun. I wasn’t so sure.
They sat at a small work island. I went over and one of them introduced me around.
"Say 'Hi' to Vicki... Ashley... Molly... and me. I'm Joan."
“Hi, I’m Joe,” I said, as I took a seat in front of a computer terminal. They seemed like a friendly bunch: giving me pointers on how to handle calls as I sat watching them work. I knew the drill. I’d done work like this before.
Off in the corner a voice called out, “Well, well, well, what have we here?”
The voice belonged to a tall blonde. Arms crossed, she leaned against the wall of a lone cubicle. Acting like she owned the place.
“I’m the new guy,” I answered.
“Get over here--NOW.”
I scurried over while she stood glaring at me. I couldn’t move fast enough for her. I tried my best to hurry but I wasn't going to run.
She frowned as I stood before her. She held her hand up for me to be silent while she looked me up and down.
“The new guy have a name?” she asked, finally.
“Joe.”
More silence.
The nameplate on her cubicle read ‘Barb’. Barb was big--- large: An hourglass figure on an amazon frame. Her size had a bullying effect if you let it. I tried not to let it.
She draped herself in a loose-fitting white turtleneck top paired with a just-above-the-knee-length gray pleated skirt. This was her uniform. It hid her curves as much as possible. It was a tall order. Barb had plenty of curves to hide.
She had the parochial schoolgirl look nailed down tight-- until you got a load of those long sculptured legs. Standing barefoot in black nylon-stockings, a gold bracelet on one ankle--- Barb was sexy in spite of herself.
I stood there wondering what she’d look like in heels. She towered over me already.
“From now on be here on time,” She said. I’d made it there on time--- and I’m sure she knew it--- but I didn’t argue. She waited for me to say something but I didn’t. I just stood there.
“Understand?” she asked.
“Yes, Barb.”
"Don't get smart." She didn't like me calling her by name, or maybe she just didn't like me, period. "We've got enough smart-asses around here already." She wasn’t very happy.
She fished a headset out of her desk drawer and thrust it at me, “Get back over there and get to work.”
I could feel her eyes still on me as I slunk back to my seat. Whew.
“I hope Barb doesn’t fire me my first night here,” I told my new coworkers.
“Barb’s not the boss,” Joan said. “She’s a rep like the rest of us.”
“Really?” I muttered, surprised.
“She thinks she’s hot shit but she isn’t,” Said Ashley. “I'd deck her if she ever messed with me like that. I don't care how big she is. I’m about ready to deck her right now.”
“Yeah, Joe, we’ll protect you,” Molly said, leaning over and patting my hand. “For a little quid pro quo under the table.” I wasn’t sure I knew she meant. She leaned back and smiled like she’d said something witty then continued: “Barb’ll keep dogging you for as long as you let her. So don't let her. She’ll give you fits. She'll eat you alive if you don't stand up to her.”
“Don’t take it personal, Joe,” Joan said, tempering things somewhat. "Barb's act is totally uncalled for but that's Barb. She's like that with everyone. She's got her nose in everybody’s business. Try to ignore her if you can." It seemed like good advice to me. "We told Ella to give her that cubicle to get her away from us, out of our hair. But it hasn’t been working.”
“And neither has she,” Ashley added. “Barb never takes calls. She sits on that big ass of hers all night long looking at magazines. Ella should fire her ass. Ella’s the real boss. She’ll be here any minute.”
oooOOOooo
I felt like I’d really settled in by the time Ella arrived
Ella's presence commanded my attention as she walked directly to her office down a short hall across from the break room.
She was petite, about 50, and very attractive. Her lean, tan and ultra-toned hardbody moved with authority and grace.
Sporting a dark blue tailored suit, sheer stockings and black patent leather pumps she took the corporate look to a whole new level. She made it work.
Her starched white blouse fit snug --- not tight. Her skirt was short--- but not too short. And heels just shy of standard-issue dominatrix.
I found it all very stimulating.
My reaction did not go unnoticed by the girls.
"Think she's hot or something?" asked Molly with a grin.
Joan chimed in with, "Don't wet yourself, Joe." They all chuckled.
Vicki was the wallflower of the group being only 19. She just smiled.
But Ashley had to crack wise, "Maybe Joe hasn't ‘gotten any’ lately. I thought his eyes would pop out when Ella walked by."
"Very funny. You guys are a regular laugh riot,” I said. "Don't worry about what I'm getting or not getting. I just happened to glance up when the door opened. That's all. No big deal."
They read me like a book and it had me flustered.
Then Molly asked, in that smug way of hers, playing to the crowd, "Maybe you did "just glance up" and maybe you didn't. It's okay either way. You're entitled. No law against it---but what I'd like to know is: Would you go down?”
Vicki seemed uneasy. The other’s all laughed. I thought they were gonna high-five each other on that one.
I was stunned. I couldn’t believe the things that Molly came out with. She was the mother of two college-age kids and looked like an All-American ‘Soccer Mom’--- and this is how she talked? The others too--
Barb stepped out of her cubicle and stood arms akimbo, hands on hips, "Is that all you guys do is run your mouths? You should glance at the manuals once in a while so your ad libs won't totally be bullshit--- seeing as how you got so much time on your hands." She walked off muttering, "And I'm the one that gives everybody fits? Yeah, right." and went into Ella’s office.
I started leafing through a manual ignoring Molly. She got what she wanted. She had her laugh. She didn’t really expect an answer from me, did she?
Yes. She did.
"Joe, put the manual down. Put it down." I did as Molly ordered. I had to. I couldn't ignore her--- she wouldn't let me. “Look at me.”
I hesitated but it was no use. I had no choice. I had to obey.
"That's better," she smiled. "Now answer the question. Would you?”
She liked having me on the hot seat. Watching me stew as the others giggled. It was all in fun but still... I felt myself getting red.
In an effort to regain my composure I sat up straight, stared her dead in the eye, and defiantly restated the question, "Do you mean, ‘Would I go down on Ella’?" Voice strong. Holding her gaze. Saying the name out loud so everyone knew exactly what we were talking about. I thought she’d laugh it off and let it go when she saw how I’d recovered my poise and kept my cool and stood up to her.
I was wrong. Molly rolled her eyes and shook her head, as if to say, 'What a Lightweight.'
"Yeah, Joe," sticking it to me now. Drawing it out. "Would you go down on Ella?" Giggles all around.
Damn. The truth is I'd go down on any one of them in a second, even Barb. With those long legs of hers why not?
But saying so out loud was a bit much. Ella, I felt, deserved better. She had class. I didn’t like making her the topic of gossip.
But it was too late to worry about that now. I had to answer. I couldn't wimp out. Not in front of a bunch of women. That never happens in mixed gender work places.
Guys always get the upper hand in terms of smutty talk and general vulgarity.
So I did what I had to do. I answered honestly.
"Yes. I would,” I said. "I'd go down on Ell-ah--" a warm hand appeared on my shoulder. I'd been so distracted I hadn’t heard Ella walk out of her office. She was right behind me. She bent over; put her cheek to my ear and whispered, "'Nice to know you care."
The girls--except Barb-- all howled. Even Vicki.
Then Ella straightened up and things got quiet.
She said, "If you slackers are finished hazing the new guy--."
She then led me by the hand to the break room as I, dumbly, followed.
oooOOOooo
The break room consisted of three tables, a refrigerator, and a long counter containing a sink, a microwave oven and a coffee maker.
"Well, Joe, I'm Ella. As I am sure you know. And I'm the boss around here. One of the perks of being the boss is never having to fetch your own coffee. Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of being the new guy is, you are the one that does the fetching. But, then again… maybe you like to fetch,” she looked at me without smiling. Raising her eyebrows slightly.
"I don't mind," I said, feeling trapped.
These women had my number. When Ashley said that maybe I hadn't gotten any lately she was right. Lately I filled my time with getting back on my feet after the divorce and bankruptcy. Getting laid barely entered my mind.
Standing next to this confident and extremely attractive woman, as she looked into my eyes and casually insinuated vaguely sexual suggestions-- especially after she heard me say I wanted to go down on her -- it was almost too much. I about popped my cork right there. Pathetic but true.
"I can make coffee,” I continued. Trying to sound casual and not quite getting there.
"Good. Very good, Joe,” Ella said. Having fun with it. "Make sure you clean everything thoroughly each time you make a new pot. And be sure to rinse the soap off. I get angry when I taste soap in my coffee. You don't want me to be angry, do you, Joe?"
"No-o-o," I sounded so lame. Like a frightened little lamb. I may as well have said "Ba-aa".
What was I getting into? The sudden stimulation of my repressed male urges now marked me as fair game for these female antics. I couldn’t conceal my feelings. I gave them all an object for their feminine wiles to act on. I was being toyed with. I was their plaything. It was disorienting and I felt helpless--- but… I liked it.
“We haven’t had a man around here for quite some time,” Ella said. “I really don’t know how I ever made do,” She paused, looking me in straight in the eye, but level, trying not to scare me, just wondering if I caught her drift. I think I did.
As I cleaned the pot at the sink Ella stood close beside me, watching. She rested her hand against the small of my back. Her breast pressed against my arm. Her faint and delicate scent was noticeable only now, this close, as it softly drew my mind toward thoughts of her feminine essence. Very subtle. I liked that. It soothed me. I felt safe.
Under the spell of her cool and collected manner it felt natural to let her control things. To let her control me. I offered myself up for inspection and wondered how far I was willing to go with her-- and how far did she plan to take me…?
As the faintest hint of a smile appeared on her lips I knew I had to find out.
"You're doing just fine, dear," she said, daring my eyes to meet her gaze.
I bowed my head and looked away as she slid her hand down my back.
She hooked her thumb in my back pocket, cupping my ass in the palm of her hand.
A shiver ran up my spine as she felt my ass. Her utter self-confidence made my senses tingle.
"Brew it strong and when it's done bring me a cup."
"Yes, ma’am."
"Drop the "ma’am.” Call me Ella. I'm the boss, I call the shots--- we both know it--- there's no need to be formal."
"Yes, Ella."
“That’s better. I like a man that knows how to take instruction. I'll put that quality to good use,” She gave my ass a brief squeeze of approval then turned and left.
I stood there quietly savoring the past few moments in my mind. I felt myself slipping into the kind of mind-set that made me think it might be all right to let her make me her bimbo. As an act. A fantasy. A fun way of flirting with the boss. Isn't that what women did all the time? With their male bosses?
How was this any different? I imagined her saying the words out loud, in her natural tone of authority, telling me I'm her Bitch. Just for the fun of it. Just to feel what it'd be like. But she didn't. She respected me too much for that. In fact, she insisted I call her Ella. That tells you right there that she respected me. We were playing a game. That's all.
I wondered if the others would consider me a bimbo. There couldn’t be such a thing, could there? Not with the old double standard, right? Even if I did let Ella have her way with me--- if she wasn't just teasing--, well, I was still getting mine wasn’t I? Even if she did make me keep my dick in my pants and only let me go down on her, still I was getting my own satisfaction, right? I should be so lucky. I couldn’t be called a bimbo for that could I?
No. Only chicks were bimbos. Not guys. Besides, it was all in fun. Ella was making me pay for saying I wanted to go down on her. That's all. Razzing me. It was a cute way of letting me know I'd overstepped my bounds and putting me back in my place. I was getting all worked up for nothing.
oooOOOooo
Ella's office was a small room. Her L shaped desk filled all but a few inches of the width.
As I came in I stood directly across the desk from her. I sat her cup down and was about to walk out.
"Sit,” She said.
I started to sit in a chair--
"Not there," she said, "There." Indicating a spot on the floor against the wall on her side of the desk. This was getting interesting.
She sipped her coffee as she sat back and eyed me coolly; then she slowly extended her leg so that her right foot was inches in front of my chest.
"Do the honors,” she said, flexing her heel toward me for emphasis.
My eyes traveled the length of her body. I wanted to kiss every inch of it.
As I removed her shoe she said, "I've been on my feet all day. I could use a good foot rub."
She made it seem like the most natural thing in the world. She could do that. Make things seem the way she wanted them to be.
My insides warmed with excitement as I held her foot. So soft yet firm. So small yet powerful. A perfect blend of strength and grace.
I looked up at her aloofly relaxing with her coffee.
She ruled.
Feet were never my thing but now my cock was rock-hard and throbbing and about to splooge.
If she wants a clit-licking right now, I thought, I'm going to pass out.
"Any odor?" she asked.
"It’s fine," I could barely grunt an answer.
"You can't smell it from there."
She pressed the pad of her foot against my mouth as the mesh of her stocking spread across my nose. My face nestled in the webbing between her toes.
"Now?" She asked.
"Ph-fine,” I answered. I was losing it.
She leaned back and asked, "Yes, but how does it taste?"
I groaned under my breath. I actually GROANED. I kissed the bottom of her foot and I think I said, "Fine" again. But I can't be sure.
"You can't taste it like that. You need to lick."
As my mouth opened to obey, she looked me right in the eye, slid down in her chair, and jammed her foot in me. Violating my face.
Her toes wiggled against the back of my throat as my tonsils strained to accept full penetration.
She was a Prima Ballerina standing on point and that point had me pinned and sprawling on the wall.
I came in my pants.
On cue, Barb flung the door open and said, "It's getting busy. You about done with Joe?" Then she saw Ella's foot stuck in my face, and me twitching, and walked out slamming the door behind her.
"I have got to do something about that girl," Ella withdrew her foot and released me.
"You’d better get back on the phones,” Ella sighed while collecting herself.
I struggled to my feet; my dick still pulsing.
As I reached the door Ella came up behind me and whispered, "We'll continue our little taste test later-- "
oooOOOooo
The phones kept us busy until lunch break. I brought in a sack lunch, brown bagging it. I hoped everyone else was going out so I could avoid the fallout for a while. I thought about leaving right then; just packing it in. I might have too, except that the thought of actually going down on that incredible woman was so exciting I could hardly stand it. I mean REALLY doing it... not fantasizing... not talking-about-it... but actually getting down on my knees for that extraordinary lady and eating her out-- I could handle one night of hazing for that. I needed this too much right now.
As much as I tried to hide it, recent life events left me in a state of low-grade depression. Getting back to work, even if it was just temping, was a step in the right direction. I hadn’t really thought about reviving my sex-life. Now my non-existent sex drive was kicking into high gear.
I was never much for one-night stands and another relationship right now was out of the question. I couldn’t handle it. My confidence was shot. If Ella was serious, if she really wanted to use me, this was the perfect solution. If that meant playing her oral bitch, so be it.
I loved eating pussy. My ex-wife thought oral sex was evil. It didn’t stop her from letting me go down on her but she always called me a pervert afterward (right after she finished licking her cum off my chin). She'd tell me how disgusting I was to eat her. Trying to make me feel guilty. It put a strain on our sex life. Not that I ever stopped doing it. I loved going down. I could go down on her for hours.
Now my dumb luck set me up to have an ongoing oral-sex relationship with one of the most amazing women I had ever laid eyes on. No strings attached. I felt giddy.
oooOOOooo
No one went out for lunch except Ella. Barb stayed in her cubicle. The girls and I sat around the lunch table gabbing. They all wanted to know if I did it. I couldn't believe the audacity of these women. They thought nothing of it. They just wanted the dirty details.
I suppose their daytime lives required them to be proper citizens. Here they felt informal enough to cut loose and say what was on their minds. It was refreshing, in a way, but it’d take some getting used to.
I told them, No, I didn't go down.
"Hell, you were in there long enough,” said Molly. "What the hell were you doing then?"
Barb must not have said anything yet. Before she got the chance to tell them her version, I came clean... sort of.
"I brought Ella some coffee. She wanted to go over some things with me, you know, about, uh, work. And her foot was sore so I gave her a little foot-rub."
"Oh Yeeaah.” “Right.” “A little foot-rub." They all chided, smiling.
"She was just teasing me,” I said. "Trying to make me fidget a little. She heard what you guys said about, uh ...you know."
"You mean what you said,” Ashley was off. "Whadda ya mean "About the YOU KNOW?” I'll tell you about the 'YOU KNOW', Joe. You know you want to go down on her. You know you do. You want to go down on Ella so bad you can taste it. We all heard you say it. You said plain as day that you want to lick her brains out. Don’t blame us for that."
"Come on,” I said. "Joan, Molly and you all egged me on. I wasn't gonna lie about it. But you guys never should have asked me that. You wanted to have a little fun at my expense--- especially when you knew she was right behind me.
“So once she got me in her office SHE wanted to have a little fun at my expense. So-o I rubbed her foot ---So what? I was just playing along calling her bluff the same as I called Molly's bluff. I didn’t think Molly wanted an answer. But if I hadn't answered you all would have made fun of me for being a prude." I was wound up. "Damn. What’s the big deal? What guy wouldn’t want to go down on Ella? Or any one of you for that matter?“ I was just stating a fact. That’s all. But I should have kept my mouth shut.
Almost in unison they each sat back, smiling.
I wanted to crawl in a hole.
"It's been nice working with you,” I said.
"You're not going ANYwhere, Joe,” said Ashley. "Not after that."
"How the hell can I work around here after letting something like that slip. I'd never live it down. Me and my BIG mouth,” I said.
"Don't worry, Joe,” Molly said with a gleam in her eye. "You won't have to work. You and your big mouth can keep busy under our desks. We'll be glad to pick up your slack on the phones. Right, girls?" They were rolling.
Barb stuck her head in the break room, "Back on the phones in two minutes," she barked.
The girls ignored her and she left. Just as quickly she was back, "By the way, Joe, you want me to order you some knee pads?"
Barb had been eavesdropping.
"Don't worry about it," Molly cracked. "You ain't gettin' nothing anyway anyhow."
Barb smarted and shot back, "Well, if he's going down on you skanks I wouldn't let him near me, ANYWAY ANYHOW!"
This was getting ugly. I had to do something before one of the girls took a swipe at Barb.
"That's good,” I said. "Because I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole much less my six inch tongue." The girls roared with derisive laughter as Barb flushed purple and bolted.
I felt obliged to diffuse the situation and get a dig in at Barb but, in truth, the thought of Barb's long strong thighs excited me. I felt bad about insulting her. But she’d get over it--- I hoped.
oooOOOooo
The rest of the shift was uneventful. Good-natured ribbing and vulgar trash talk floated around but for the most part we kept busy on the phones.
Barb barged around slamming things inside her cubicle. Once in awhile she would stalk off across the floor-- in her stocking feet, of course-- to God-knows-where, only to come stomping back and begin slamming things around again. I got used to that.
I brewed several pots of coffee and dutifully served Ella. Each time Ella was busy on the phone or with paperwork so I didn't linger. I served her coffee and left.
The rest of us all helped ourselves to the coffee but the job of brewing each new pot belonged to me. Barb made sure of that. She let me know when it was time to make another pot. She was nice about it. One time I hung back to finish something I was saying to Ashley and Barb told me to shut my pie-hole and get my lazy ass up and get in there and make another pot. But she usually just said, 'time to make some coffee, Joe' and I went and did it. I didn't mind and the girls didn't either.
They took every chance that came along to mock Barb except when she told me to make coffee. We were equals and they were too friendly with me to order me around personally, but they had each had enough of women always being the coffee gofer at their day jobs. Let the guy make the coffee for once, they thought.
After we clocked out Barb reminded me I had to clean the coffee maker and pot before I could go.
As the girls left they made a point of stopping by the break room and saying they were glad I was aboard. They hoped they weren’t too rough on me. That was nice. I assured them I would be back again tomorrow and told them all good night.
I wasn’t sure if Barb was still there or not. Suddenly she came stomping in with Ella's cup--- wearing flats. She was on her way out.
"You forgot this, coffee boy,” she said.
I hadn't forgotten but rather than start an argument I said simply, "Thank you" ignoring her insult.
I guess I came off sounding a little sarcastic or maybe Barb was just spoiling for a fight. She grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against the fridge, "Listen, Dipshit, Ella wants to use you. So, thanks to her, I gotta lay off. But if you ever talk to me again the way you did tonight I'll make you pay--- Ella or no Ella--- got it?"
"Yes, Barb,” I said. I didn't think I'd have a problem with that. I hadn't meant what I said in the first place. I liked Barb. I'd have apologized right there but I'm sure, if I had, she'd think it was only because she intimidated me.
Barb let go.
"You're a lucky little shit," she said. "Ella wants to use you right now, you little wuss. So get that sorry ass of yours over there and make that tongue of yours useful--- all six inches of it." Barb got right in my face, "And it better be good for more than just badmouthing me or you're gonna be toast." Barb was aching for a fight. She needed to get it off her chest so I let it go. I let her get it out of her system.
I had my mind on Ella.
Barb clocked out and left the building.
I started having second thoughts about Ella. It felt so kinky. But I couldn’t stop now. I wanted her to use me. Not the way bosses usually used bimbos. No. This was different. I didn’t know how exactly I just knew it was. It just was. I trusted Ella.
I shut off the lights in the break room. Out on the floor the hushed glow of computer screens hummed in the darkness.
As I entered Ella’s office she struck a match and lit a small candle on her desk. It gave off the soft scent of jasmine.
"Perfect timing," she said, softly, with approval.
I couldn't speak. I saw her in the same relaxed pose as when I’d massaged her foot. But now one leg draped carelessly over the arm of the chair, foot dangling. I got down on my hands and knees and crept toward her. She'd removed her stockings and panties and my hand brushed against where they lay in a bunch.
The thought of the bare silkiness of her legs made me shudder with excitement.
All doubts melted at the sight of her self-satisfied smile as I knelt before her. She crooked her heel around my neck and pulled me to her. Bathing my face in the silky-soft moss of her sex.
Loosening her leg she slid her heel down my back hanging her knee over my shoulder.
She had me sized up perfectly. Cocksure in her smugness, she took me as her tool. She made me her muff-punk, her submissive lick-bitch. My willingness pleased her. Her approval pleased me more. Anxious to meet her need I eagerly awaited my task as I kissed the only lips she would ever make available to me, her cunt-licking stooge.
Caressing herself with one hand, she placed her free hand on my head prompting the action of my tongue with gently shifting pressure.
The simple imperceptible touch of her hand imparted her wants directly.
My joy knew no bounds.
Spunk flooded my pants one last time.
Relieved of my physical lust, I gave myself over to my conquering Lady without the petty distraction of my selfish roiling loins.
Deep guttural tones of keenly satisfied desire spread in radiant waves around us. Though the sounds were of her origin they were not any the less mine. I was the more gratified. I was the more revealed.
They sprang then from both our beings as our beings became one. For in this act of prolonged affirmation (abandoned to the utter deliverance of complete surrender) I yielded to her bliss.
In giving myself over to her completely, I was no more. There was only SHE. SHE was the purpose. SHE was the goal. SHE was ALL.
Chapter 2
The next day was hectic.
A client started a nationwide ad campaign that implied they could call us for live answers to questions and complaints. In reality, we offered to send them a brochure.
The callers wanted answers right away. Answers we didn't have. There was no way they were going to give up personal information to get a measly brochure.
We were flooded from the word go. Most callers hung up after being put on hold or we'd never have gotten a breather.
About 6 o'clock I was finally able to break away to make coffee. Ashley sauntered in just as I scooped coffee into the filter.
Ashley was twenty-five, about medium height, slinky and stacked. From any angle but the profile she nearly resembled a stick figure. This gave her a chameleon-like versatility that Ashley used to great effect depending on her mood. She could appear to be a child-like Doll, a Super-Slutty Porn Star, or as a tomboy, with little effort.
Three days a week she worked as a receptionist for an insurance agency. On these days she could be dressed to kill in heels, black stockings and a tight butt-hugging miniskirt with an half-unbuttoned silk blouse that showed the black lace of her bra (if you could take your eyes off her cleavage).
This was her full-out looking-for-a-raise outfit.
Her legs and ass, though thin, were shapely as sin as she strutted about in platform heels.
Thankfully she wore this get-up rarely or I would have OD’ed on the testosterone eating away at my brain.
Today she didn’t work her day job. She was dressed casually in running shoes, a loose fitting pair of faded jeans and an over-sized sweatshirt. She came up behind me with her hands stuffed in her back pockets and rested her chin over my left shoulder.
“Whatcha doin’, Mister?” she asked like a curious child. All innocent and light.
“Hmm,” I hummed, savoring the feel of her body on mine.
“Like the smell of coffee, Mister?”
“Yeah, I do but what I really like is the way the front of your shirt feels against the back of mine,” I answered, adding, “And you sure do smell purty, too.” I was trying to sound like a kid myself.
She leaned into me and playfully pushed off my back using her ample chest and then, bounding, slid onto the counter next to me. She placed her hands under her thighs as she hunched over; the 55-gallon sweatshirt billowed out hiding her breasts in the great empty space underneath.
There she sat dangling her feet like a knock-kneed kid hanging out on a park bench.
“Joe, you’re such a flirt, you!” she said with pleased surprise.
“Jus’ makin’ conversation s’all,” I continued. “This coffee makin’ bein’ such hard work ‘n all, I gotta’ do sumthin’ to help pass the time.”
“Joe, you’re funny. I like funny guys. I think they’re sexy,” She said; eyes twinkling.
She had me smiling. I won’t lie.
I couldn’t believe a hot chick like Ashley was flirting with me. That was nice. After my session with Ella last night I felt confident enough to just take it in stride. Go with it. Ordinarily I’d be nervous. It was nice. It also pointed out just how much of a hold Ella had on me. Even in the midst of flirting with Ashley I had Ella on my mind.
Then in walked Barb.
“Get back on the phones, Ashley,” she said. “We’re busy again.”
I actually thought Barb sounded more concerned than bossy. But Ashley didn’t like it. She was about to tear into her until we saw Ella go into her office across the hall.
Ashley left in a huff, glaring at Barb as she brushed past.
Barb started yapping. Saying how if I was smart and knew what was good for me I'd steer clear of Ashley.
I didn't catch much of what she said. Ella was on my mind.
I got a good look at her as she walked by and saw that tonight she had on stilettos cut to show cleavage; the sexy little lines between her toes; looking so sophisticated; so hot and stylish.
And no stockings.
She'd had her legs waxed. Her tan skin gleamed. Her shins looked sharp and straight as razors. Slicing the air she moved through. I wanted to get down on the floor like a cat and rub my cheek back and forth against those bare edges and just stare at that cleavage.
My insides were bubbling. I was purring already.
"Hey," Barb rapped me upside the back of my head-- a quick flip of her hand to get my attention.
"Are you listening to me? Forget about Ashley." She thought I was mooning over Ashley. "She's married and you're Ella's boy."
Barb looked sinister but I barely noticed.
"I need to get Ella her coffee,” I said.
"You need to wise up and listen to what I'm telling you, is what you need to do. You take up with Ashley and Ella'll kick you to the curb. Then--- look out--- your candy ass'll be up for grabs." Barb pointed her finger at me, "We got a score to settle. You and me are gonna tangle." She backed out of the room still pointing and glaring, "Watch your back."
Barb was in constant throw-down mode. I wanted to be her friend but all hope of that vanished when I sided with the girls. I wished things were different but what could I do?
Barb spooked me a little but Ella had me stoked. I was so hot right now for another encounter that nothing could ruin my high.
Ella stirred feelings in me like nothing I'd felt since puberty. Feelings I’d never known existed.
A whole new set of forbidden sexual feelings.
She had a hard-edge feminine intensity that just blew me away. A fully developed female virility that undermined any attempt at resistance and left me helpless against her confident feminine power.
Maybe it was in reaction to my ex-wife's wishy-washy ideas of sex. The prissy way she sulked. Never being fully engaged in the act. Forcing me to be the one always in control. Then never being satisfied. Or should I say, never admitting she was satisfied.
It was stressful.
I liked being under Ella’s control. Pleasing her. It was a relief. It scared me a little---the newness of it all--- but I liked it.
Ella knew exactly what she wanted from me and she made sure she got it. And she got it from me-- from me. I satisfied her. That pleased me more than anything I could think of --- either personally or sexually. I couldn’t look at her now without wanting to please her, sexually, submissively, on my knees.
I knew this wasn’t normal but it felt right to me. I wondered if it was a phase I was going through. Like a mid-life thing.
I wondered if Ella wanted to keep me as her sex-slave permanently. That was perverted, I know, but I have to admit it excited me. I wanted her to own me, and possess my so-called manhood. I wanted her to take charge of me, body and soul, and dominate me completely and make me her Sex-Bitch--- for real.
I hurried to Ella's office.
Ella had her phone crooked between her shoulder and ear while looking at what appeared to be computer printouts.
“I don’t believe these marketing whizzes,” she said toward me; still looking at the printouts.
“We've got thousands of calls in just two hours! From that ad you’d think we’re the information desk at the Library of Congress. The idiots!
“Joe. Wait,” she said, as I turned to go.
She spoke into the phone in an efficient clipped tone directing ways to handle the problem.
She hung up the phone.
“What a fiasco,” She straightened the printouts and laid them neatly on her desk and sat up in her chair.
“Sit down, Joe. I need to talk to you a moment. I’ve got some rules I want to go over with you. The main rule is: Keep away from your co-workers.” She saw my surprise and continued, “You can pal around with them all you want - I don’t mean that - but nothing physical. I'm the queen bee around here and everyone knows it. I get exclusive use of you. You're mine for as long as I want to use you. Your co-workers know enough to respect that. You’re my private stock.”
I sat there without saying a word. I was too excited.
"Joe, this is where you say, 'Yes, Ella.'" She prompted.
"Yes, Ella."
“Now that that's settled…" She walked out from behind her desk and planted her left foot firmly on the arm of my chair. My cock hardened at the sight of its unyielding authority in all its high-heeled grandeur.
Her snug skirt shifted higher as her knee rose above her tight, trim waistline; revealing her supple, sensuous thigh.
Her succulent glistening slit demanded to be licked. Its sharp scent cast fragrant waves bound for the core of me, kindling my submissive nature, rousing my need to bow down before its supreme excellence.
“It’s been hectic,” she said. ”Relieve some tension for me, will you, Joe?”
This was a question in form only.
She released me to my calling like a hound to the hunt.
“Get on your knees, Joe. That’s right. DOWN. Kneel down. That's right.Yes. Now lick. There, that’s better. Oh, yes. Lick me. That’s it. There. Right there. Ahh.”
She held my face tight against her steaming crotch, slowly driving her sweet crease into me as I licked at her wet folds.
My mind teetered on the brink of ruin as I cupped her firm ass in my hands and tasted the sweetness of her slick juices.
The lips of her newborn bitch found their mark as she held her fingers apart in an inverted “V” exposing her clit, “Oh yes. That’s it. Yes, kiss it. Kiss my clit. Yes. Suck it between your teeth. Gently! There that’s better. You’re learning. I’ll make a first class bitch of you yet, Joe.”
Just then Barb walked in. She immediately turned to leave.
“Barb,” Ella called out,”When you know Joe is in here don’t barge in unless - (keep licking, Joe) - unless it’s important or you’re prepared to see him behaving like a bitch. (Oh, that feels good.) I’d let you have him too but he’s my bitch. (Oh, that’s good.) Perhaps you'd like to stay and watch? “
Barb turned and left.
I was humiliated and excited at the same time.
I was caught eating the boss like a cheap slut. That excited me. I was not allowed to stop. That excited me. I did as I was told --- isn’t that what a bitch does? --- and that excited me.
I knew now what it meant to be Ella's bitch and the reality of it excited me.
Over and above the pleasure of going down on Ella I was excited by her instructions for me to continue when common decency said I should stop and display my shame.
My humiliation served to honor Ella.
I licked on her with new energy.
Her pussy tasted better now then it had just a moment before.
I saw myself through Barb’s eyes: I was a groveling whore of a bitch. Barb saw me as a worthless slut, sure, but it galled her to know that Ella loved my tonguing. Barb despised me for being a disgusting tramp. But it irked her to know that Ella valued me more with each vulgar command I obeyed.
My cock pulsed wildly.
I was a kneeling peon, unwilling to get up and stand like a man. Yeah, right. As if I would rather pretend to save face than bury my face in Ella’s excellent bush.
It was no contest. Why pretend? I was hers. I was her Bitch, plain and simple. I would be used when and how she wanted without pretense.
I buried myself up to my ears in Ella and reveled in the wonder of her total control; she mashed herself into my face in the bucking throes of climax.
Her final violent thrust seemed to heave every last lick of cum from her body.
She sighed as she knelt on my shoulders and settled her full weight onto my face, as I remained kneeling. She grabbed the back of my head and leaned into me, I held her up by her ass cheeks as she slid onto my mouth and let me have at her drippings.
After I finished licking Ella’s wet pussy, sloppy with cum-juice, she dismounted and wiped herself on my shirtsleeve and went and sat down. I slumped forward against the desk, my face sticky with her thick love-honey, steeped in the sweet stink of her genteel secretions.
“Get up, Joe. You’ve wasted enough time, bitch. Wipe yourself off with your other sleeve and get your bitch-ass back on the phones.”
"Can't I wash up first?"
“No. Think of me as your new cologne. You are comfortable with that, aren’t you, bitch?”
I looked up at her from where I lingered, kneeling, and realized I was perfectly fine with that.
“Yes,” I answered.
Why shouldn’t I be? I was her Bitch wasn’t I?
Chapter 3
The girls were turned on by Ella's scent on me. They thought the whole thing was great.
Ashley licked my cheek for a taste when we were alone and whispered, “You bitch.”
She seemed to admire my lack of guile.
Everything settled into place.
By Thursday we were back to our same slow flow with few calls and lots of time on our hands.
The girls and I sat around talking between intermittent calls. Despite what Ashley had said about Barb not working she seemed to be taking her turn fielding calls.
Joan asked me if Ella mentioned anything about working Saturdays, “We’re all supposed to work Saturdays from 8am till noon get our forty hours in,” Joan said. "That's what the Temp Service told us, but Ella lets us slide."
“You guys are temps too?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Ashley. “We’re all temps. Ella’s the only one that actually gets paid by Acme Telemarketing. We're paid through ‘Chumps R Us’.”
"I'm through ‘Losers 4 Hire’," I told them. "They didn't say anything about Saturdays."
Joan said, “These weekday shifts are supposed to be seven hours with a paid coffee break and a forty-five minute unpaid lunch. It’s crazy.”
“This stuff is news to me,” I said.
”Ella thinks the idea of spreading forty hours over six days is ridiculous, so she takes care of us,” Molly said. "She's here on Saturdays so she clocks us in."
“Yeah,” said Ashley. “It is so cool working for Ella. She rocks. She looks out for us.”
“Well, I’m sure Ella’ll take care of you too, Joe,” said Joan.
Molly and Ashley started laughing and Joan turned red.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant “take care of you” like she takes care of us. On Saturdays. I mean punching you in on the clock,” Joan said. And added, looking at Molly and Ashley, “That’s all I said. You two are terrible.”
“Well if Joe's doing his job 'down there' I guess Ella ought to take care of him,” Molly said. “I know I would. At the very least my thighs would keep his ears warm.”
“Gee thanks, Molly,” I said, passing it off with humor. We all laughed.
I was relieved. This was the first open mention of me carrying on with Ella. Obviously they thought it was no big deal.
Ashley got back to the subject of Ella being a great boss.
“Remember that night that dork from accounting or corporate, whatever - that suit -came in?” She asked around.
“Oh,” said Molly. “And you were in your Headlights uniform?--- ”(Headlights is a sports bar with big busted waitresses in tight V-neck T-shirts and short shorts.)
“Whoa!” I said to Ashley. “You worked at Headlights?”
“Molly is so full of shit. I had on shorts and a T-shirt. It was hot up here. It was summer,” Ashley said.
“Joan, help me out here. Was she or was she not looking like she fit right in at Headlights?” Molly wanted to know.
“I don’t know if it was that bad but I couldn’t get away with wearing an outfit like that. Not with this body,” Joan told her.
“Oh it was that bad,” Molly began again.
Ashley jumped up, “Well Molly maybe if you dressed a little more like that your old man would give it up and you wouldn’t be so crabby all the time.” She was angry a little bit.
“What the hell has that got to do with anything?” Molly asked.
For the first time all night Vicki said something, “You guys... Joe doesn’t want to hear this stuff.” She was being thoughtful of me.
“He’ll live,” said Molly.
Then to Ashley, “You’ve got some nerve calling me crabby you’re the moodiest person around this place... what does me being crabby have to do with you dressing like a - whatever!”
“I like to surprise Mr. Ed once in a while. You know. Wear something sexy once in a while. Gets him horny,” Ashley said. “So sue me.”
“Wait a second. Who’s Mr. Ed?” I asked.
“Her husband’s name is Ed,” Joan told me. “She calls him Mr. Ed because he’s big enough to eat hay. Like the horse. See?”
“You mean because his dick is big enough to eat hay,” Molly offered.
Things got heated. Ashley didn’t like the way Molly said that. Vicki didn’t like them talking that way in front of me. Molly was still upset about Ashley’s comment. Joan just sat there with her hands folded waiting for the storm to pass and I couldn’t stop laughing.
“Hey! You guys break it up!” Barb yelled as she came thumping out of her cubicle. “Just settle down. It’s bad enough you guys don’t want to learn the manuals in your free time but jeez can’t you keep it civilized?”
For once the girls, even Molly and Ashley, were glad of Barb’s interruption. Still they grumbled about her as she went back to her cube. They just didn’t like her.
“Ashley, you’re the one always bragging about how hung Ed is,” said Molly, in a normal voice. “I like Ed. He’s a great guy. I didn’t mean anything bad.”
“I guess I shouldn’t have called you crabby either,” said Ashley. “My bad. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Y’know that whole big dick thing is – like - way over-rated,” Ashley said.
“Whew! I’m glad to hear that,” I said. It got a good laugh.
“Well... maybe not way over-rated but a little,” said Ashley. “I mean if you can make a fist around it, and still have enough meat left to deep throat, anything more than that is a waste.”
“Anything more than that!...” I said. “How much more than that could there be?”
“Oh, there be plenty. Right Ashley?” Said Molly.
Ashley made a fist and held it up, “About this much more. I can wrap both hands around it and still do deep throat on him.”
“Damn,” I said marveling at the thought of having a Johnson like that.
“Poor Ashley doesn’t know what to do with the extra inches,” Molly said, then added, “He can give them to me if you want.”
Everyone chuckled.
“Well it’s not just that,” Ashley continued, “He can pass out.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If I get him worked up too quick. Or too much,” Ashley said, “So much blood rushes to his dick that his blood pressure drops and he can faint. It’s a problem. Especially if I’m on my knees giving head. He might fall on me.”
“Jeez. Has that ever happened?” Asked Joan.
“No,” Ashley said. ”But almost.”
“That is amazing,” I said.
There was a small silence.
“What was I starting to say before...?” Asked Ashley.
“About some guy in a suit came in,” I reminded her.
“Yeah. So this Dork is snooping around. Supposedly, I guess, making a performance check?... Something.... Anyway, he was standing over my shoulder while I was on a call, just staring at my boobs,” she said.
“I don’t really care if someone looks, you know, fine, knock yourself out. But for one thing, it’s rude to stare. For another, this guy - this suit - is trying to act so cool. Like, as if, he’s really looking at my computer screen or something.
“So he’s pissing me off. I mean he is right up close. Like, close enough that we’re actually touching. Ask these guys,” She motions around the room.
“So to get him to back-off I went like this...” Ashley lifted both her arms above her head, like she was going to yawn, and arches her back over the top of her chair. Her tits burst tight against the fabric of her top threatening to bust loose completely. She looked like she was launching a couple rockets off her chest.
Sitting across from her my view was impressive. I can imagine what kind of eyeful this Dork got.
“I thought she was gonna flop out of her top and on to the floor,” said Molly.
“Yeah. So this guy he had to actually jump back to get out of my way and, I mean, he really got something to look at,” Ashley said. “Served him right.”
“So what’s the problem?” I said. “You must have made his day.”
“Oh no,” Joan said. “He became so flustered when we started laughing he didn’t know what to do. He went and hid somewhere until Ella came in.”
“This is the cool part,” said Ashley “This Dork starts yelling at Ella. Actually yelling. Ella wouldn’t hear it. I mean I thought, maybe, she might be mad at me. There is supposed to be a dress code. But she wouldn’t take nothing from this guy.”
Joan said, “Ella told him, ’This is MY office and these are MY people. My name is Ella Major. Write that down. I don’t want any excuses. If you or anyone else from corporate ever comes back lurking around MY office without MY permission you will have a MAJOR problem to deal with,’ that guy was so scared... it was really funny.
“From then on whenever some guy would drop off supplies or anything they’d get all apologetic falling all over themselves saying, “I’m sorry to walk in here like this.”
“She had them all scared shitless,” said Molly.
“The coolest thing though,” said Ashley. “Ella just walked to her office when she was through. She never said nothing to us. It was like nothing happened. She didn’t care that we played this guy. Tough luck, y’know. The guy shouldn’t have been where he didn’t belong. That was it.”
“Wow. That is cool.” I agreed.
oooOOOooo
I made the second pot of coffee of the night just before lunch. Vicki wandered in while the others were busy.
She seemed to have something on her mind.
“How’s it going tonight, girl?” I asked.
“Fine,” She answered. “Joe, does it bother you the way we – I mean they-- talk out there?”
“No. Guys talk a lot worse than that,” I told her. “It’s kind of weird hearing women talk about their sex lives and stuff but it doesn’t really bother me.
“That’s good,” Vicki said.
“It bothers you to see people uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” I asked.
“Yeah. A little.”
“Well, I’m alright,” I said. Changing the subject: “I guess you’re glad you don’t have coffee duty anymore, hey?”
She looked uneasy.
“I never made coffee, Joe,” she said.
“You’re not a coffee drinker, are you? I guess it wouldn't be fair to make a non-coffee-drinker make coffee even if you were the newbie,” I said.
“That’s not it,” Vicki said. “Nobody had the job of being coffee maker. Barb usually did it.”
“No kidding. How’d she get stuck with it?”
“I guess the same way she gets stuck with everything around here. Nobody else wants to do anything so she gets it done,” she said.
“Really?’
“Yeah. The other girls--- I like ‘em, they’re nice--- but when they say Barb’s not on the phone and stuff like that, well, it isn’t true. She does more work than anybody around here. Except maybe Ella.”
“Wow.”
“I wish they would try to get along. I’d like to help her out but I feel funny. I don’t want the girls not to like me and Barb really doesn’t make it easy either. You know what I mean?” She asked.
“I know.”
The girls were getting ready for lunch and we could hear them leaving their desks.
“Joe,” Vicki asked hurriedly. “If I needed to talk to you about something, could I talk to you?” She looked a little worried, “Even sex?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Anytime.”
"Even if I wanted you to---?" The girls came walking in so Vicki never finished her thought.
It could wait. I'm sure it was nothing.
oooOOOooo
I went to check on Ella before I went to lunch.
“Have the girls said anything about working Saturdays?” she asked.
“Yeah. They said they were supposed to come in but you let them slide. You took care of their time cards.”
“That’s right. Saturday was originally supposed to be for doing paperwork and counting tallies, but that can all be done during the week. Backing up the database is the only thing that really needs to be done on Saturday so I’ve been doing it. It doesn't take long,” she said.
“But your hours are different, no Saturdays, just eight hours a day with a paid lunch,” she said.
“That’s what I thought,” I said.
“You didn’t say how much your hourly was, did you?” She asked.
“No, why?” I asked.
“Because you are being paid a dollar more an hour than they are. A dollar more than Joan, I should say, and she’s the highest,” Ella said.
“No kidding?” I said.
“No kidding,” She repeated. “When I found out, I tried to get their agency to give them more money, but it was no-go.”
She paused.
“So-oo... I was trying to decide how best to handle this,” she said. "I don’t want my people getting upset if I can help it but I have to say I wouldn’t blame them too much in this situation.”
“What are you thinking? Do you want me to quit?” I volunteered.
“No. No way, Joe. And I’m not just saying that because you’re my bitch,” It sounded so natural to hear her say it like that; casually, like it was no big deal.
A week earlier such a reference would have filled me with self-contempt. Now a small glow of pride welled within me. Like a young bride hearing herself called by her married name for the first time in casual conversation. It felt so right.
“What I have in mind is to just tell them the truth. Say that in the interest of fairness you volunteered to come in Saturdays to make up for it,” she said.
Having four hours alone with Ella once a week: The thought of it shot sparks through me!
“Sounds fine to me,” I said.
“Well it’s still unfair,” she said. “It’s another case of a man being paid more money than women for the same work. I’ll be very surprised if the girls don’t tell me it’s not necessary, but - believe me - it would bother them otherwise. Still... it may have worked out for the best.”
“How’s that?” I asked.
“I wanted you to come in on Saturdays. I need to have you alone on company time to train you properly and make into the kind of Bitch I deserve. If you were paid the same as the others, and I made you come in when they didn’t, they may have resented me a little. They do like you, Joe. This way they can live with it.”
She wanted me to come in!
“Thank you, Ella,” I said, gratefully. "Thank you!"