Restraining the Receptionist: ...the Receptionist, Book 2 Page 3

  I strode jauntily into the office wearing a brand new work outfit. I’d picked this one out myself, so it actually covered all the naughty parts of my body. A flirty summer skirt in a virginal sky-blue, topped with a white schoolgirl blouse added up to a clear message. Hands off.

  But Ethan wasn’t there to receive my message. I poked my head into the inner suite of offices to find his door closed and a low rumbling murmur that meant he was on the phone. I settled in at my desk and retrieved the voice mail messages that had come in overnight. I emailed the list of calls to Ethan. He sent no answer back. Not that he would, since he usually didn’t, but I couldn’t help checking my email every two seconds anyway.

  The morning ticked by, call by call, yawn by yawn. My job wasn’t exactly the most intellectually stimulating. I got my stimulation in other ways, which weren’t available at the moment. Around ten thirty, Brian the package guy came in. As usual, a dull flush crept up his cheeks at the sight of me. Apparently that one Simon-mandated session of eating me out behind the desk had really stuck with him.

  I gave him an innocent smile—who me? Spread my legs for the package delivery guy?—and reached for the packages he brought. Oddly, one of them was addressed to me. While he rearranged the remaining packages on his dolly, I ripped it open. It was a homemade DVD with the words “Cowell & Dirk” written on it in black sharpie. And a note from Ethan.

  Please hand this DVD immediately to Brian as a little thank you for his loyal service to Cowell & Dirk.

  Chills shot through me. I had a bad feeling about this. Ethan and Simon loved their video cameras. They loved recording our sessions, and they loved watching them later. What was on that DVD? It could be anything. One camera was strategically placed with a full frontal view of anyone bound to the hook hidden in Simon’s ceiling tiles. I’d spent quite a few hours hanging from that hook as they raised and lowered it and put me into all kinds of compromising poses.

  Or had the camera under my desk recorded the DVD? The one that had recorded me fondling myself, as instructed, legs wide open, until my juices flowed down my thighs?

  Or maybe it was from the camera in the kitchenette? I didn’t know how many lunch hours I’d spent naked, sucking off my bosses until they returned the favor. It got so the phrase “lunch hour” made me nearly come in my underwear.

  “Is that my name?” Brian peered at the note from Ethan. “Something for me?”

  “No.” I snatched it away. Brian the Goofball was not about to see whatever intimate, blackmail-worthy scenes might be on that DVD.

  “But it says—”

  “No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t say anything. Better go, Dental Miracles is expecting their brochures.”

  He gave me a suspicious look, but did what I said. At least I had Brian under my thumb.

  Later that afternoon, when Ethan ambled into the front office, my lie came back to haunt me.

  “Did Brian get his gift?”

  “Uh…” My thoughts ran like cockroaches. Evade or confess? “He, uh, declined the gift.”

  “Really? Who would refuse a gift like that?”

  I shrugged. “Who knows with Brian. He’s not…all there,” I whispered significantly, tapping my head.

  “He certainly sounded all there when he called me and asked about it.”

  Oh, fuck. Fuckety-fuck-fuck.

  I pleated my skirt, feeling like a third grader caught without a hall pass. “I’m sorry, I just…I didn’t know. What was. On the DVD.” My lack of breath made everything come out in little gasps.

  “And what business was it of yours?” His icy eyes flicked across me. He put out his hand for the DVD, and I meekly handed it to him. “Perhaps you’d like a preview of it?”

  I nodded, though I dreaded what I would see. He leaned over me to put the DVD into the slot on the side of my computer. I felt the heat from his arm. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to show little white-blond hairs peppering his muscled forearm. They looked so downy and innocent. Little did they know who they were attached to.

  I watched, mesmerized, as he went through the steps to get the DVD to play. The image of a white-robed Asian man appeared. He spoke with an accent so thick it sounded like he’d just had a root canal.

  “Welcome to Mastering Kung Fu. Rearn these ancient techniques that can transform your rife…”

  “I bet you didn’t know Brian’s interested in martial arts.”

  Numbly, I shook my head.

  “This is my teacher. He’s trying to make a DVD but it isn’t out yet. Some obvious problems he’s trying to work out. I told Brian I’d get him an advance copy.”

  “That was so nice of you.” Maybe if I pretended to properly appreciate his kindness he’d overlook my transgression.

  He graced me with an ironic look. “Nice go, luv. But nothing doing. You disobeyed direct orders. You know as well as I do that you’ve earned yourself a punishment.”

  Punishment. The word had a way of sneaking through me and making my knees wobble. But I held firm.

  “You can’t. Simon isn’t here.”

  “Hmm, good point. No Simon. Well, that does put us in a tricky situation, doesn’t it? What shall we do?” He straightened up and wandered away from my desk. He moved like a panther, as if just under the skin lived something primitive and ungovernable. His haunches bunched under the gray cotton of his light summer trousers. I could practically picture his balls swinging back and forth with every step. Balls I’d held in my mouth like precious baby chicks. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from him.

  “We could save up all your punishments for his return.” Idly, he played with the DVD case, slapping it gently against one palm as he paced.

  Any chance Ethan would forget by the time Simon returned? Nope, the man had a mind like a mousetrap. I shook my head.

  “No? I tend to agree. We can’t spend all our time on employee discipline. Here’s a thought. We could conference Simon in, via video perhaps. It’s a bit of a cheat, but he would be participating.”

  “Present,” I squeaked. “Simon is supposed to be present. That means in the room. With us, not in some other room.”

  “Was that the phrasing? Oh dear. Well, I consider it a challenge then. It’ll spur my creativity.” His eyes gleamed glacier blue. “I’ll come up with a proper punishment by tomorrow, never fear.” He tossed the DVD case on my desk. “Unless I make it utterly simple and replace this DVD with something more interesting.”

  “No!” I scrambled to my feet. “Not that. Something else. I won’t fight it, I promise.”

  “Fight it? I certainly hope you would know better than that.”

  “I do. I do.” Puppet-like, I nodded.

  As I had learned early on, waiting for punishment was so much worse than experiencing the punishment. My imagination would go wild with all the possibilities. I’d find it hard to concentrate on simple tasks like taking messages or brushing my teeth. And that increased the chance of more errors. And that got me more freaked. Except it wasn’t fear I felt. If it was just fear, it wouldn’t involve wild nighttime sex fantasies and drenched panties. Would it?

  By the time Punishment Day dawned, I was kind of a wreck. I hadn’t gotten much sleep in between the crazed sex dreams. Taking my post at the receptionist’s desk, I reviewed my strategy. Shut up and take it, as long as Ethan stayed within the rules. In no time, the red light on my phone blinked.

  “Come in to my office,” Ethan’s gravelly voice ordered. “Leave all your clothes on, please.”

  Fully clothed for a punishment? That was new. Then again, it would have been against the rules to make me strip. Or would it? Come to think of it, we’d never spelled out the rules.

  I tiptoed to the door of Ethan’s office. This was new too. I’d never been invited into Ethan’s domain. For all I knew, Blackbeard the Pirate lived in there. Or maybe Hitler’s body was stashed in the cabinets. I wouldn’t put anything past Mr. Ethan Cowell.

  But it wasn’t anyone fictional or historical who greeted me as I op
ened the door. In fact, it took a moment to recognize her. Streaked blonde hair, splattered freckles, slim body set off with boobs the size of coconuts. Chantalette the Temp. I’d spent a torturous morning training her to fill in for me when I had a dentist appointment. And believe me when I say the dentist chair was a relief after that. She was useless. Even tied up, she looked lazy.

  She hung limply from the coat hook on the wall, right next to Ethan’s trench coat. As if she’d flashed herself right out of the coat. Her fingers curled onto each other. Her pale skin glowed with a sheen of sweat reflected in the fluorescent lights. When she saw me, her first reaction of surprise was followed by a smug wink. As if to say, “guess all that training paid off.”

  “What is she doing here?” I hissed at Ethan.

  “I invited her. I spotted her potential right away. She did quite well taking your place. Of course, I had to do some re-training of my own. I was quite excited when I saw these.”

  He tugged at the twin gold rings piercing her nipples. She moaned.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. She was the worst temp ever.”

  Chantalette shot me an evil glare. I ignored it.

  “She has no experience. No skills. Unless you want your nails done. That’s her only previous job. And I’d only trust her with toenails. Fingers are too hard.”

  “Shut up, Dana. I’ve got plenty of experience where it counts.” She sent Ethan a come-hither look. “Skills too.” She ran her tongue over her lips.

  “You aren’t buying this, are you?” I hated the way Ethan was looking at her, raking her body with blue ice. He’d barely spared a glance in my direction since I’d walked in.

  “Sit down, Dana.”

  Ethan opened his desk drawer and pulled out a long peacock feather. Pure envy shot through me as he ran it along Chantalette’s torso, from her armpit to her waist, just barely brushing her nipple. Her skin flinched into little goose bumps. I knew exactly how she felt. That feather was one my favorite toys. But it was supposed to be for me, not Chantalette. Even though I had to admit, the deep iridescent blue-green of the feather looked perfect against all that pale skin.

  “If you’re expecting me to go near her, forget about it.”

  “Of course not. You have a job to do. Have a seat. I’m expecting several important calls today. I want to make sure they’re handled appropriately. Now,” he added, when I lagged.

  From Ethan’s desk, I would have a front row seat for whatever Ethan did to Chantalette. I guess that was the point. “I’ll just go out front to the receptionist’s desk.”

  “Oh no. I need you in here. I want to make sure you’re on your best behavior.”

  I glowered at him, but he responded only with a sunny smile.

  “I thought you’d be relieved that your punishment is so simple.”

  Sure he did. The cunning bastard. This scenario didn’t break the terms of our deal. Who would be twisted enough to think of it? Only Ethan. The peacock feather swept over Chantalette’s body with a hypnotic swishing motion. I tore my eyes away from it and stumbled to Ethan’s desk. I sat down and picked up the headset he’d left for me.

  I got myself into position and waited for the phone to ring. As I suspected, I had a full-frontal view of Ethan and Chantalette, otherwise known as the morning performance of “Master and Slave-girl”. As soon as I took my seat, it was as if I ceased to exist. I’d been expecting some trick to become apparent. A vibrating seat cover or leather straps to bind me to the chair. Nothing. Apparently, all I had to do was answer phones while Ethan teased Chantalette into a state of frenzy.

  Answer phones like a real receptionist? That wasn’t what I’d signed up for! I was supposed to be where Chantalette was, dancing under the maddening strokes of the feather. I was supposed to be the one he focused his entire attention on, like a lion tamer pacing a cage.

  He undid his cobalt blue silk necktie and blindfolded her with it. She relaxed into the darkness. How I loved that feeling. That should be me, not her.

  He ran the feather across her nipples, making delicate circles around her puckered pink flesh.

  And my nipples got so hard they threatened to poke through my jacket. I shifted around to relieve the pressure and noticed the moisture developing between my legs.

  Ethan moved to Chantalette’s other side. Even though she was blindfolded, she followed his movement. I knew just how she felt, hyper-aware in the darkness behind the tie. Senses honed to perfect alertness, waiting for the next surprise. He drew the feather across her pussy. She squealed and bit her lower lip. Her thatch of wispy hair didn’t shield her much from the stimulation of the feather, but at least she wasn’t bare-shaven like me. I would have felt every silky strand of that feather on my clit. In fact, I was pretty sure I felt it in my imagination, because my groin prickled with heat.

  A sigh floated through the room, but it wasn’t Chantalette’s. It came from me. Now it was my turn to bite my lip. Did a ghost of a smile cross Ethan’s granite lips? Nope. For all I knew, he didn’t hear me at all. I was in the audience, not on stage with the stars. He put his booted foot between Chantalette’s legs and kicked them apart. Pale flesh gleamed at her crotch.

  He took her whole pussy into his commanding grip. She sagged against him. He worked his hands, those strong fingers of his, deeper into her flesh. In case you hadn’t noticed, I couldn’t look away.

  Little wheezing gasps of breath dribbled from Chantalette’s mouth. That brought his attention to her lips. He brought the pointed end of the feather to her mouth, ringed her lips with it and forced them to open. He dipped the tip against her tongue and made her suck it. When it was soaking wet, he brought it down to her nipple. It went on an excruciatingly slow meander around her hard little rise of flesh. Then he put the tip of the feather inside her nipple ring and tugged.

  “Oh my God.” Chantalette’s moan had more energy than she’d shown the entire morning I’d spent training her.

  “There’s just something about a piercing,” said Ethan. “Ownership. Possession. Permanence. I’d like to attach a chain to these little jewels and lead you around by it. Make you my little sex slave. Would you like that?”

  From the liquid tainting his hand, I didn’t think she’d object. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.

  “Any thoughts about other piercings? Dana has resisted the idea.” He moved the feather on her flesh as if writing something, or searching for the perfect spot for a piercing needle.

  She shook her head, then nodded, then shook it again. Interpretation—she’d have any thoughts Ethan wanted her to have.

  “I’m going to untie you now.”

  He reached over her head and untied her from the coat hook. But her freedom didn’t last long. He joined her hands behind her back and wrapped the belt of his trench coat around her wrists so tightly she winced. I couldn’t help noticing that her reaction was accompanied by a further hardening of her nipples. When her hands were secured, he took a thorough tour of her body with the feather, searching out every hidden crevice and soft shiver of skin. Ethan was meticulous in his attention to detail. It was impossible to hide anything from him.

  Chantalette bucked hard under his hands. Waves of pink traveled across her body. I felt a grudging sympathy for her, even though I still hated her guts. Ethan had a way of dominating with his touch, completely and utterly. If not with his touch, with his cock.

  As if on cue, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection. A sneaky, petty side of me had hoped he wouldn’t be turned on by Chantalette’s nude, blindfolded body. Only I, and Simon, come to think of it, were supposed to inspire a huge hard-on like that.

  So much for that fantasy.

  His purpling hard-on put me in my place. It might have been even bigger than his usual boners. Or maybe I’d never seen it from this far away. His penis was usually in or near my body, not across the room.

  He pushed Chantalette down onto her knees and nudged her mouth with his cock. She opened up right away, a pink eager ho
le gaping under the blue blindfold. Her tongue reached for his cock, but he wasn’t interesting in subtleties. He wanted the back of her throat, and that’s what he got. He reached deep, until her throat worked to contain him. The gold rings in her nipples swung back and forth. The sight of her bent under the weight of his cock, blindfolded, hands tied behind her back, was so erotic I almost came on the spot.

  Then the phone rang. I took a long, wavering breath and answered it. It was the chatty assistant to the vice president of one of our new clients.

  “Hi, Dana, I wanted to check in about the meeting next week. I know you’re expecting our Human Resources managers, but is there anyone else we should include…” She droned on and on in my ear like a pesky mosquito.

  Ethan’s eyes closed halfway. One hand held the base of his cock, the other the back of Chantalette’s head. I couldn’t believe how deep she took him in. I had to hand it to her. Chantalette was a lazy slacker when it came to temping, but she sure knew how to give a blowjob.

  Maybe it’s because all she had to do was open wide. I couldn’t control my bitchy thoughts. I hated her right now, hated the way she greedily mouthed Ethan’s cock. Hated the graceful way her back arched and she swayed to accommodate his thrusts. Hated the way the voice in my headset wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

  Most of all, I hated Ethan for forgetting my existence. I hated him for suddenly going all still inside Chantalette’s opened throat. Hard pulses stiffened his body and closed his eyes. I fumed at my desk. That was supposed to be me, damn it. Me me me.

  I had to admit, Ethan had come up with the worst punishment yet.

  Chapter Four

  As the call finally started to wrap up, Ethan pulled his still-hard cock out of Chantalette’s wet mouth. She licked her lips.

  “Spread your knees apart,” he told her. She did so, her thighs quivering.

  “Dana, open the top drawer and hand me the item on top.” It better be a condom, I almost said out loud. Ethan and Simon and I were long past condoms, but this was different.