Chapter 1: SAVAGE
He had me by the hair, body taut in his other arm. I was so wet and even though the desk grazed my lower back. He looked me dead in the eyes and spun me without a word. The only language recognizable between us was our bodies. He bent me over the desk almost aggressively, but that peaked my libido even more. I could feel him massaging his hard length on the apex of my ass. I sighed sweetly and loudly… Then his hardened length lowered to my moist entrance and sank oh so deliciously inside me. Every inch slowly pushing me over the edge little by little, before he started a steady pace. My toes began to curl and I gripped the edges of the desk for dear life as I exhaled a tormented and ragged breath. A loud moan escaped me and then as if a spell was broken, I toppled off him and was thrown over the side of his desk. I fell with loud thud! “Sage! Wake up! This isn’t the time to be ogling the boss in your dreams!” I was on the floor sprawled out in front of Ronnie, my cubicle mate (sometimes) and best friend. She sank back in her chair and it dipped swiftly as she laughed at me. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself, but the memories of the brief reverie were so vivid that I barely got out a chuckle. Goose bumps swept across my skin and I shivered a little at the thought… I sighed, pushing myself up onto my knees and slowly got to my feet, dusting off the debris. I sat in my chair giving Ronnie a pat on the shoulders to calm her infectious laughter. I tried to get myself together for the meeting we were going to have with him… I slightly drooled over the thought. A sigh escaped me and Ronnie got a whiff that I was still lost in my mind. “Ouch!” she smacked me on the back of the head with the clipboard that had the notes for the presentation. I punched her shoulders half expecting it to hurt. We rustled up the rest of our notes and strode to the end of the row of white cubicles that tiled the entire area. The office that our managers and supervisors usually kept the meetings was on the 19th floor of the 20 storey building. At the end of our cubicles was the hall to the 4 elevators, Ronnie and I moved from blue carpeting to tiled marbled flooring that echoed our footsteps of our 4 inch heels. When we got to the lift I punched the arrow pointing up and waited for lift to arrive at the 11th floor where we were on. Trepidation and a bit of excitement washed over me as we stepped into the lift. We punched the number 19 that lit up in red under my index finger. I checked myself cautiously in the reflective walls; pushing my long black hair behind my ears, straightening my baby pink blouse and opening the second button from my neck to expose a tiny peep hole for some cleavage (that I barely had). My hands smoothed the creases in the close- fitted, knee length, pastel green skirt that I wore and I positioned the slit at the back to be centered. The thigh-high panty hose were a perfect pitch black with nothing bunching or torn (I guess the garter helps). They matched my black 4 inch heels, Swatch leather watch and thin belt around my waist. The elevator ride seemed to last forever, I began pacing the 44″ x 60″ floor space –with 96″ interior cab height(at least that’s what the tiny piece of paper in the corner said)– with incredulous black eyes watching me. Click. Click. Click. Smack! Oouuch! “What was that for?” I asked. “You’re doing it again!” Ronnie shouted. “Damn girl you’ve got it bad. I only wished he felt the same way.” I made a face. The elevators then came to a screeching halt, which had my heart racing again. The glass doors swung open and there he was, our boss, in a charcoal black suit, fitted to hug every inch of his bulging muscles, his hands were in his pockets, tightening the cloth around his manhood smartly. He had on black, leather dress shoes that shun to perfection, his jacket swung open and his hair was… well wasn’t there anymore. He had cut it! He had cut his untamable brown hair off! This was a new look that I loved. It fit him well by highlighting his features greatly. He was definitely all man, with that chiseled face, square jaw and hooded, almond-shaped eyes. His lips were full and even. I was definitely dumb-struck and hell-bound, crushing immensely on my boss. But who wouldn’t? He was a Greek god and I loved it. I went completely still and, “fuck!” was all I could say. An elbow connected wickedly to my ribs bringing me back to reality and the fact that I just bellowed an expletive in front of my BOSS! Shit! My cheeks reddened, my palms began to sweat, as he arched an inquiring eyebrow my way and the slightest flicker of a smile ran across his lips, but disappeared in a flash. My entire body went weak at the sexy sight. I went completely red and hot. I felt damp between my legs, then quickly looked down on my hands that were fumbling in front of me. Gosh I was embarrassed and all he could say was, “Miss Beauchamp, Miss Sauvignon” In the most lascivious, deep voice I’ve ever heard. I began drooling once more and between my legs could be classed as a deep swimming pool. I could feel the fluids running a bit down my inner thighs and the stockings trying to absorb as much of the feelings as possible. This got me wondering though, if I reacted this much to
A letter to the BDSM Practitioners Club
Dear Sir/ Madam, I would like you to cordially extend your invitation to myself and my friend Angel Lee to attend your monthly BDSM Practitioners Club. It has always been an interest of mine to experience this kind of lifestyle. Not as a fetish but as a complete way of life. I’ve heard that the atmosphere is very warm and welcoming, which is wonderful to know. However, since I’m neither a Dom/ Domme nor a Submissive, I would not like anyone to approach me and feel the need to touch me in an inappropriate manner as they see fit, because what they would have unleashed upon themselves would be a world of severe pain and torment. Firstly, I will chop up a motherfucker into perfectly bite-sized pieces and feed him or her to their fucking dogs as a sweet treat. What you must know is that I am not one to be touched so easily, it is something that has to be earned or willingly given in certain circumstances. I possess qualities that I am uncertain of and just becoming acquainted with, but I would very much like to explore these qualities in your vicinity, so that I may understand myself more and see what others make of them. Additionally, I think I may need bit of a fix, where ‘getting me off’ is concerned, because I come across as voracious. Noone seems to can aid me in this circumstance thus far. However, I strongly believe that if I had met someone of this particular nature that I am willing and very eager to explore, that they can provide me with this ‘proper fixing’ that I am in desperate need of… Undoubtably, I must say that I am satisfied with my solitary life so far, but there is an emptiness so to speak. This ’empty inside’ is obviously from the fact that I haven’t been introduced to anyone that feeds my …exotic tastes which I have developed, but long since sensed that was in me from a tender, tender age. I’ve also discovered the most daunting fact that most of my attributes mimic that of a masochistic personality, with a tinge of sadistic behavioural patterns. Seeing that difficult yet relieving fact being said I am looking forward to developing a relationship with someone of this kinky/ BDSM lifestyle. Preferably, someone that will have the upper hand in the situation, because I am a tad bit of a handful. In other words, I am ready to be moulding into the BDSM lifestyle, by the experience your club will offer and I will never be a bore. This isn’t too much to ask but a very generous gratitude is in order when I, along with my friend Angel Lee set foot through your doors, as I see fit. Satisfied and empty inside. Yours to have, (respectively) Bloody Insatiable & Voracious a.k.a. Bloody I.V.