[Officelover]

He couldn’t believe that he had gotten all the footage from those five tasks; he couldn’t believe he had done all five at all. Will Tugley felt nothing but disgust as he showered, well disgust and relief to have that toothpaste off. He didn’t want to send her a thing; he knew it would only give her more power over him, but she already had the power to compel him to do this.

Will got on the computer, naked and sitting on his towel. He replied to the e-mail from hours ago with the appropriate videos and images attached, and sent it off. He didn’t waste time.

Five minutes, maybe less, after he sent it off, he heard a knock on his door. Shit, he thought, pulling on some clothes lying near his chair. He hopped into his jeans and mussed his wet hair as he pulled the shirt on over it. He opened the door and staring at him with a little smile was, of course, Jule. He looked her over and didn’t say a word.

“You gonna invite me in, boy?” she said, chewing some gum.

Will bristled. “Sure, sure, where are my manners?” He showed Jule inside and closed the door behind them. She spun slowly in the middle of the room taking in all angles of her surroundings. He said nothing, until he did. “So, I was wondering—”

“Don’t talk unless spoken to, slave.”

“Well, I was just about to ask—”

Jule stopped spinning and edged towards him. “Ask what?”

“Ask… what this is all about, you know, what you want from me?”

“Make me some tea. Make me some tea and then we’ll talk.”

“What kind would you like?”

“If I had wanted a specific kind I would have given you a name. I was under the impression that you had the mental faculty to choose a tea I would like. But perhaps I was mistaken to think that you were actually capable of making a simple cup of tea without guidance?”

His face burned but he said nothing. Will headed into his kitchenette and took out the electric kettle. He decided Jule would like a raspberry zinger, maybe a little sugar. He decided that Jule could use a little sugar.

Returning with the stirred tea, a little metal spoon sticking out of the mug too cool it down, Will returned to Jule scrolling through his Macbook, giggling slightly. “This new footage, you know, it’s really funny.”

“Gimme that!” he screamed, prying the chrome laptop from her hands. He spilled the tea on the ground at her feet; it was a wonder the mug didn’t break. He fell back onto a sofa. Jule swooped down on him, leant in deep so that he could see the cleavage of her breasts and feel the wrath of her heat. Her lipstick was black.

“You do not own this.” She said, picking up the Macbook from beside him on the couch. “I could drop this on the ground right now, shatter it to bits—I could walk right on out with it, wipe it clean, and use it for my own. I could urinate on the keyboard and have you write my name. You don’t own this. I own you.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Try to take it from me, Will. All I’ll do is tell Kali to ruin your life. I could send her one little text message, and everything you sent her could get out. I could do it now! See.” She pulled out her iPhone and slid it open, typing in some cryptic passcode. There the message was—ready to go: ‘I think we need to send him a message. Release some of the pictures.’

“Do you have that through your head now?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

“What are you supposed to address me as at all times?”

“Mistress?” he guessed.

She slapped his face, and said, “Never call me that again! That is a title reserved only for Kali herself. She is your goddess. Never forget that. You’re nothing compared to me, but I only work for her.”

Will asked, “Are you her slave too?”

“Don’t bother with such foolish questions. You are to call me Miss. You got that?”

“Yes.”

She kicked him in the balls. He winced and doubled over, as she corrected, “yes, Miss.” He wretched on his elbows and knees, trying to deal with the pain he had just been dealt. “I like that pose for you, fuckboy. All right, now kneel, hands clasped behind your back.” Jule fished around in her purse for something—a pair of scissors.

“Wha-what are you going to do with those?” Will asked, apprehensively.

She delivered another swift kick to the balls. “That should teach you for speaking out of turn, and not even having the courtesy to properly address me.” Jule began to snip away at his T-shirt. He wanted to protest—he’d bought this shirt for $40, which now seemed so expensive—but he realized that no matter how much the shirt might cost, it would cost less than his reputation.

He watched the shirt fall off, and saw as she started to move the scissors towards the front of his pants. He breathed deeply and tried to stay still as she cut the button off. The jeans had probably cost another 40 dollars; he couldn’t recall. He had more important things on his mind, like the fact that a pair of extremely sharp fabric scissors was now inches away from his most precious things.

“Stop squirming,” she said, “do you want me to cut your balls off?” He tensed up right away and she cut a straight line right next to the zipped. “On your elbows and knees again, butt up.” She stood up, walked around his shirtless body. Starting at the rip at the base of his taint, Jule started cutting backward until she had split the jeans into two. Without warning, she yanked the cuff of the right leg and the whole thing slipped down to his knee. “Lift up,” she said, and she tore the whole thing off. Then the same thing for the left.

Will Tugley was painfully aware that it was a thin layer of cotton separating him and her now. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” She snapped the elastic of his boxer briefs and pulled them down slowly to his knees. “Butt up!” she barked again.

Reaching under his legs, Jule cupped his raw testicles. “Not very well shaven,” she observed, “from now on, you’ll be completely shaven down there. Next time I see you I expect you to be as hairless as a sphinx, understand?”

He burned, “yes, Miss.”

She flicked them a few times. It hurt. A bit.

“Stand up,” she said. He did so. “Wow, your penis is smaller in person. It looked about six inches in the photos. What is it in real life? Four?”

“Five and a half, Miss.”

“All right, prove it. Go on—get hard for me.”

This shouldn’t be hard for me, he thought, before laughing at the double entendre. Look at this beautiful woman in front of me. Maybe it was the kicks to the balls, maybe it was the humiliation, maybe it was the little shitkicking look in her eye but he couldn’t manage anything other than a big old softie.

“That’s the best you can do?” She laughed. “You’re a lot closer to three inches than five and a half, you little liar.” She took her black lipstick from her purse and told him to take the underwear from between his legs and lie on the ground. It was cold against his butt. She wrote, in capitals, TINY DICK on the flat of his stomach with an arrow pointing to the offending organ.

Jule backed up so that her skirt was peeking over his eyeline. He realized that she wasn’t wearing any underwear—any at all. “Now, you’re going to entertain me.” She lowered her legs and her vagina slid toward his face. He knew what to do—this he could manage. He loved eating pussy. Always had. It made him feel good. He liked it more than he liked getting sucked off. He was surprised at how clean hers was; no hair whatsoever. He thought all these feminists kept their bushes and armpits long. Jule finally started to moan after ten minutes or so. He clearly had a lot of pussy to eat. It took him a good half an hour to bring her close to orgasm.

She was clearly enjoying it. Probably the thrill of this kind of dominance got her off. She was so close to cumming; Will could physically taste it. And then the surprise—the squirt. He thought it only happened in porn. All over his face, the fluid. She laughed and sprang up and said, “Don’t wash your face for a day.”

“I’m late for class,” Jule said, looking at her phone. “I’m so glad we could have this talk. I hope you understand your situation better now, and I look forward to using you soon. In the meantime, I think you should check your e-mail once I leave. I’m sure your Mistress has some tasks for you. I’ll help you carry them out. For now, stay on the ground. Eyes on my butt as I leave the room.”

She left the room. And man, she had a nice ass.