3 comments/ 145812 views/ 7 favorites Office Control By: Archangel34 Part of the strange pleasures of working in a shared open space is the ability to look around. I could spend many long minutes looking at different exposed parts of sexy feminine physique, a foot in high heeled boot to the right of my visual field, a knee in net stockings, someone’s hand, delicate long fingers, a mouth, a smile, hardly never seeing a whole person. I was fond of this vicarious pleasure of looking and appreciating without needing to communicate anything else. Fantasies accompanied me from home to work and back and like everybody else, I also enjoyed a few harmless office flirts. I never thought much of it, never actually looked for anything more, being married actually helped to feel less frustrated and more boundaried. It was just after a few weeks of changing my desk’s position that I noticed something different. One of the secretaries seemed to produce some sort of a sense of predictability with me. I was not sure at first but I felt that she slowly discovered what I liked – I had no idea how she did that – just that things changed. Stockings and shoes were suddenly too familiar– all to my liking and at angels I could appreciate. Then came the movement, she would move her legs, cross them, move a hand from boot to thigh, all appeared to be for my own pleasure although I could never really be certain. We did not have much work between us so I did not have any excuse to go over and say hi. However, I decided to send an anonymous mail, which could identify me by its content only if she were actually directing something at me. I remember writing something like ‘I know that you know and want to make sure I know too and that you know that I know’. If she knew – she would let me know! (I hoped). Not much work was done during that day and the next few until I got a reply – ‘sure I know, what for tomorrow?’ I specified the mini and shoes I wanted, no stockings – it was summer. The next day she wore exactly what I wanted and as always just sat there showing no sign of wanting any other contact with me. I sent her another ‘what to wear’ request and without even returning a message she appeared with what I wanted the next morning. During the next few weeks I gradually developed quite an obsession; I would make lists of what I knew she had and then find ways of putting them together in a way I would find sexy. I had her wear trousers, minis, with these shoes or the other, I started to control her underwear as well, at first trusting her to put on what I instructed her and then asking her, on a specific predefined moment in time, to bend, move, or just slide something off so I could see. I felt that my mind was on fire. Not only did I control exactly how she came each morning to work I could also make her show me things. After years of being dependent on what they wanted me to see I became my own master! I knew what she would wear and I knew that I could watch and look at her as much as I wanted. I now devised tables of different clothes, which corresponded to actions that she would take to help me see what she was wearing or just touch herself for me. For example, “the grey suit, white thongs, slowly move skirt up leg while sitting, turn at my direction, legs apart, time: 14:30, so I can see thongs”. I could see how just before one of our times for action she would slightly get excited, try to control herself with an extra-rigid posture and then give in to the instruction, some times with a little shudder, show me and go back to her work. I loved it! I made sure that we were never doing just the same thing and that there was always a sense of a developing escalation or boldness in what I wanted her to do. I wanted her to come without panties one day, and the first time I made her show me her cunt was truly amazing. She could hardly control herself in the last few minutes before time and then opened up to me in a way no woman had done before, all this without getting too close or touching. I then told her to shave and show me how it looked like – I could even see how moist it was on that day. I told her to come without a bra or to come with one but at a certain point go, take it off, sit, move, show me and go back to put it on. I told her to buy new things, to touch herself in front of me, always making sure there was nothing that could attract too much attention. Up until then I did not feel an urge to touch her – just to control. I did, however, feel an urge to touch myself and there were days when I was sitting with a constant hard-on, like some Pavlovian dog that knew exactly when to start salivating because he was the one who rang the bell. My next stage was to involve some more sexual action. I told her that I needed to know when she masturbated. I was sure that she did that, I said, and I thought that it would be a good idea if I controlled it too. She agreed with passion. She said that she masturbated each day, after work, thinking about the list for the next day and how she would show me what she had or did not have underneath. I told her to continue this tradition but not to cum until I allow her. I required a detailed description each morning of how she masturbated, where and when, and a declaration that she did not cum. Every few days I would allow her to cum, first she could do that at home and then at work - wearing her wet panties. We never talked face to face and I had no desire to get to know her in this way. I did, however, after a while, developed fantasies about fucking her. I could not get it out of my mind and it disrupted my old regime of little excitements. I always needed to change, to make it more exciting, not to get bored. I understood that without noticing everything was suddenly pointing in just one more action – fucking her. I wrote her an email saying that I have decided that it was time for me to fuck her. These were more or less my own words and it surprised me that I could just let it out like that without any difficulty. She replied (the first time I asked her something for a long time) very quickly: “What do you want me to do” was her single line. I decided not to allow her to cum for about a month in which I tried many outrageous things, bordering on her being caught touching herself. At the end of the month I told her to give me a key to her apartment, the address, and wait there, standing up, her back to her bedroom door, naked, facing her bed. I arrived at the exact time I said I would. I entered the living room, neatly organised, not very feminine, big TV, and then opened the door to the bedroom. She had her back to me, as requested and she was naked. I did not speak at all and just looked at her, feeling how her back seemed to be burning with anticipation, her skin yearning to be touched. I slowly removed my clothes, making sure that she could hear every buckle and shoelace being undone. She was slightly shivering at this point, anticipating. I blindfolded her, which probably came as a surprise to her because she startled initially but then relaxed. I then turned her to face me, got her to her knees, waited, her mouth open with anticipation, not knowing, and then slowly stuck my hard cock into her open mouth telling her to suck it. She did, continuously, until I took it out leaving her mouth open. I told her to stand and then, all of a sudden, found myself gently lifting her up and putting her on the bed. We kissed; she opened up for me and I got inside her, Hard as a rock, then got her on top of me, removing the blindfold, looking at her when I told her to cum. We both had the orgasm of a lifetime! From then onwards we worked on specific bulks of time, fucking every few months and then going back to the beginning before sliding the slippery slope again… Next month we are going flip roles for the first time. Office Control Ch. 02 Office control (2) Although I agreed to take things a step forward and allow her to take the lead in our shared fantasy, it took me quite a while to actually do it. I was used to feeling her eager looks behind my back and her tense and excited anticipation. I loved to slowly built a sense of tension inside me; taking myself to new heights of self regulation, translating my ability to wait into her experience of yet another anticipated frustration. Controlling her gave me a sense of peace and a way of controlling my own restlessness. Giving this up was not going to be easy task. On the first day after our decision to switch roles she did not show up for work. Still in my old state of mind I got very angry, sending her emails, leaving messages on her answering machine and feeling frustrated. When I got home there was nothing for me there either and I reluctantly concluded to myself that she obviously found it too out of character and impossible for her to do but was probably embarrassed to admit it. Slightly triumphant I went to bed just to wake up the next day still surprisingly agitated. Although I was not expecting to see her at work I was still surprised when she did not show up again. I decided not to write or phone her but could not let her out of my head so around midday I broke my own rules and phoned. There was no answer and I became worried that maybe something was really wrong; maybe we ended up taking it a bit too far, maybe she was less robust than I thought she was. I was very much surprised, therefore, when she opened the door to her flat that evening. She looked calm and soft, had no makeup on and was wearing an old t-shirt and worn tracksuit bottoms. "I was waiting for you to come…it took you less than I thought it would," She smiled and invited me in. I said that I was worried about her, as she did not come to work. "What did you expect to see coming here," she asked with a smile and I said "nothing much," quickly deleting a very depressed image of her and a caring image of me from my mind. I sat myself on her soft settee feeling a bit baffled. She sat on the coffee table in front of me and said that she has been thinking about what we said when we last saw each other. Expecting her to continue I did not say a word but she remained silent. "Well…" I said eventually… "You were thinking." "I still am," she said and went back into her silence. Memories of our last encounter started floating in my mind and I became slightly aroused. She looked kind of inviting in her soft clothes and I could feel myself being drawn to her. Pulling myself forward in my seat I came a bit closer. I wanted to kiss her…to say that I did become worried; that I thought something was very wrong with her and with what we did to each other. I reached out and touched her knee. She looked at me, gently put her hand on top of mine and looking into my eyes said, "not now…I can't…you are not ready yet." "Look, lets call the whole thing off," I said, "lets just go out like normal people." She was no longer sitting in front of me. Standing a few feet away she said, "maybe now we can start…are you still playing"? I slumped back into the sofa and looked at her. Suddenly I was very tired and empty. "I don't want to play," I said, I want to forget about the whole thing, I want us to have a cup of coffee now and act normal. "No," she said, "You are playing, you have been playing for the last two days and you are playing now." I got up, went home and got straight to bed feeling a bit strange, wishing I were not so weird. I woke up with a headache, which did not pass with the usual dose of coffee and off-the-shelf drugs. She was not at work again ('bitch') and I decided to do some work for a change. Looking at my 113 emails I did not see one from her and I could I worked until lunchtime without the usual distractions. I then had some meetings ('why do you look like you've been beaten up') but when I settled back in my little desk haven there was a message waiting for me. "Come over after work." I smiled to myself feeling suddenly fuller, riding on my sense of expectancy. She answered the door wearing the same sort of outfit. "Are you playing," she asked as we were standing there. I said yes. "Good," she said with a smile, "Go home." I knocked on the closed door and rang the bell a few times until I realised how deflated I felt. I just turned and left. The next day she was sitting at her usual desk at work wearing a tight mini skirt and a white blouse, both I have not seen before. I couldn't stop looking at her and whenever our eyes met she just smiled casually. There was no other communication between us. People were starting to leave the office when I got a message – "look under my desk." I did and I saw her black panties still around one of her ankles. She collected them in her hand and discretely put it in her drawer. She then got up, straightened her skirt and slowly walked past me. I got up and followed her into one of the conference room at the back. "I booked it, don't worry," she said. "Sit down." I sat down as she walked around the room and slowly closed all shutters. I did not feel that I could say anything at all. She took a chair and sat in front of me crossing her legs. "Are you hard," she asked. I wasn't hard but I could feel the familiar tingle…the rushing of blood, loss of breath. "I'm getting there," I said with a smile. "Can you get hard without touching yourself now," she asked me. I said that I probably could, feeling how I was hardening as I said so. "I'm sure I can," I added. "I'm very wet now," she said calmly in an almost scientific tone. "I've been wet since morning"; she added…her tone now sexual and inviting. "Are you hard yet?" I was and she could see. "Good," she said, "now look." She uncrossed her legs and slowly revealed a cleanly shaved cunt. I have never seen it completely smooth like this. I could see the dampness and I wanted to stick my head there; I needed to stick my head, my lips, my tongue. "Show me your cock" she said in her sexy voice again. I got my trousers and pants down and held my hard cock for her to look at. "I didn't say that you could touch it," she said, and before I even thought about it I felt how my hand was obeying her and dropping lifelessly to the side. She then held it under the shaft and pressed quite hard until it was much softer and smaller. "You will learn to behave exactly as I want you to. You will get hard on command. You will get soft on command. You will cum on command." She was very calm again, composed, slightly scientific. You are now part of my experiment. "I don't now if I can do it," I said, feeling a bit nervous and trying to laugh something off. "I was not talking to you" she replied. "Your cock is now mine. This is our new game and these are the new rules. All you can do is help me train it. You cannot cum. You can wank yourself but only as part of my program. If you cum I will know it and you know I will. I will feel it…it will tell me. Now put you pants on and go home. I knew that she was right. If I came away from her she would know, my cock will be harder next time, not as easy to un-harden and mould, fresh again, like it was today. I could not get her out of my mind but in a strange way I have not felt before. I did not really know what the difference was but I was stuck with her image in inside my head, with the feel of her tight grip of my cock and with a desperate need to masturbate. In the shower the next morning I regained my senses and composure a little bit. I washed, feeling more in control, telling myself that I could play the game; I can NOT masturbate for as long as I want! Feeling refreshed I left for work. Again she wore something I have never seen before. A different tight mini skirt…a blouse. Not overly sexy but at the same time irresistible to look at. My first mail was from her, which was a surprise. "Look," it said on the subject line and again I saw her panties on the floor and her picking it up and putting in her little drawer. I was sorry I missed seeing her taking them off. She passed me and I followed her to the little side conference room. "Take them off before you sit down," she said, and I did as she said without giving it any thought. I was not hard. She looked at me and said that she wanted to see it getting hard. "I will look now and I want to see it filling up…getting harder…I want to see." I felt how what she was looking at was happening. I did not even feel an urge to touch it. It took a bit of time and this time it was not rock-hard as before but hard enough. "Well done," she said smiling. She uncrossed her legs and showed me her tight wet cunt. Slowly moving to the edge of her seat she took my hand, bent my fingers and before I knew it slid my middle finger inside her. She was extremely wet and warm. "Now you are hard enough," she said, and looking at my cock I could see and feel how rock-hard it was. She never lost her grip of my hand and now pulled it away smiling. "Now I want it to go soft for me…soft," she said in her clinical voice. At first nothing happened, I was so excited, I felt that I could spontaneously just cum. But then it got a bit softer and she gripped it hard, a bit harder than before, strangling it to complete submission. Back at my desk I desperately wanted to masturbate. I felt my cock wet with pre-cum, not hard but unbelievably sensitive. My balls ached and I could feel every move of the fabric of my pants. I tried to concentrate on work and eventually did get her a bit out of my head towards the end of day and through a very focused presentation I had to do. I went home agitated and completely exhausted. She was not there the next day and the day after. There were no emails apart for one on the morning of her second day of absence – "Don't dare." I played the game. I waited and the more I waited the more I felt I could not stop the game even if I wanted to. At the end of the third day of her absence I went over. She opened the door and invited me in, completely unsurprised to see me. I sat down at the exact same place I sat in when I was there last. She went to the bedroom and came back, to my surprise, with another woman. The woman was a bit older than her and rather plain looking. "Take them off," she told me and I did. She then told the woman to lie down on the floor and without words took all her clothes off. Her wet, beautiful shaved cunt was close enough to smell. She lowered herself onto the woman's face and allowed her to suck and lick everything she could reach. "I want to see it as hard as possible," she said, as she moved on the woman's face which was now completely drenched with her juices. My cock was semi-hard, I could feel how a breath of wind might make me cum. "Pull your pants up and go home," she said. I felt like crying. I could not move – I felt that moving will make me cum. I told her that I would cum if I moved and she then told me to stay as I was and look at her until she came. She did, shouting and moaning, climaxing in the woman's mouth. She then got up and they both disappeared into the bedroom. "Please…," I said. "I don't think I can go on any more." They came out dressed to leave the flat. "Sit here until you feel you can get up and then just shut the door behind you," she said as they left. I lost a sense of time as I helplessly sat there. I could feel every inch of my skin. Even the sensation of wearing my shirt felt a bit too much and I wanted to be naked in warm water or wind, not have anything touching me. Slowly I regained what was left of my composure and was able to get dressed and leave. I could not sleep at all; her image riding the woman's face haunted my senses during the night. I could not leave my bed and I decided not to go to work. all I could do was wait for her. She arrived at about 10 in the morning, wearing her mini skirt and white blouse. "I knew you wouldn't go to work. I didn't even try looking for you there." "You seem to know everything these days," I replied. She smiled and said "Get naked." I was wearing just an old pair of boxers that I immediately dropped to the floor. She slowly undressed and stood naked in front of me. "Here we are again," she said. I wasn't hard at all, too excited to move a muscle. She easily slid two of her fingers into herself and took them out to show me how wet she was. She said that since she started thinking about 'a game' she could not stop masturbating and being drenched. It was relentless. Then she suddenly knew how she wanted to control me; She wanted to see if she could make me cum on command. "Now make it hard for me," she said, "You can touch it but not cum." It took a while but I managed. Standing there in front of her, hard again, I let go of my cock. "Don't touch it at all now." I was on the brink of exploding. She took a step forwards and held the palm of her hand near the tip of my cock. "I want you to cum into my hand. Now," she whispered and with her other hand gently squeezed my balls. I came in a way I never came before; it was not even in pulses just one long release. She took a step back and looked at the produce. "Amazing," she whispered, "I've never seen it come out like this." I felt dizzy and sat on the edge of my bed. She wiped her hand on my sheets and then pushed me back onto the bed. She climbed me and buried her cunt into my face, smothering me with her juices until she came. I was suddenly very hard again. "Now this is just for me," she said, as she moved from my face to take it inside her.