The British Bondage Collection

BOOK: The British Bondage Collection
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The

British
Bondage

Collection

J.A.
Bailey

 

Copyright 2012 ©J.A. Bailey

All rights reserved. No part
of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles
and reviews.

This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Bound by the Boss

Come
to my office at 5.30pm. You’re working late today.

Mr P.
Evans

Violet
stared at her computer screen and rubbed at her forehead. How like him. Direct
and straight to the point. Patrick Evans didn’t believe in unnecessary
etiquette, she thought with a snort. Though she’d only worked for him for six
months, she quickly got used to his brusque business style.

And in
a strange way, she liked it. There was none of that awkward small talk. No
having to be nice to her superior. He never pretended to be friends with his
subordinates. Patrick Evans was the boss, nothing more and certainly nothing
less. He demanded punctuality, perfectionism and obedience.

Surprisingly,
Violet had found herself readily obeying her stern manager. In her three years
since graduating college, she’d had four jobs, three of which had ‘let her go’
and one that she’d walked out from. In their efforts to be her ‘friend’, her
previous superiors had simply given her the excuse to not give a shit. But that
was not so with Mr Evans. For once in her life, Violet worked hard to please
her quick-tempered boss.

A tiny
curl of excitement flittered through her stomach as she eyed the clock on her
computer. 16.50. Everyone else would be leaving at 5pm and then it would just
be her and Mr Evans.

With
his broad shoulders, thick black hair and sculpted arse - oh yes, she’d checked
that out often enough - his mere presence was enough to send her pussy
clenching with desire. He stared at her sometimes, his dark eyes clashing with
hers from under his brow and in her more hopeful moments, she wondered if he
felt the same. He wasn’t married and he definitely didn’t have a girlfriend, so
maybe, just maybe there was a chance for her…

With a
sigh, she flicked a look back at her computer. 16.56.
Come on.
Propping
her hand on her chin, she watched his door. Sometimes…Okay, all the time, she
imagined him throwing open that door and dragging her away from her desk for a
hard fuck. Moisture pooled between her legs. Damn, if she was only at home. She
could tear off her knickers and pound herself with her new toy.

Or she
could go out and find herself a man for the night. It would be easy enough.
With her curvy bottom and come-hither looks, men looked at her and immediately
thought of sex. A pout of her ample lips, a flick of her chocolate hair and a
bat of her blue eyes and she could gain a partner for the evening with ease.
The problem was, although she was attuned with her body and could climax easily
enough, they never seemed to satisfy her and rarely lasted more than one night.
She sighed again. What the hell was wrong with her?

The
rest of her work colleagues began gathering up their coats and Violet realised
with a jolt that it was after 5pm. Her heart pounded against her chest. Why was
she so nervous? It wasn’t like she’d never been on her own with her boss
before. He often asked for her help in the office and she treasured every one
of those moments but she’d always been aware of the office staff sat just
outside. She giggled. That was probably the only reason she hadn’t jumped his
bones yet.

As a
couple of the ladies waved goodbye, she muttered about working late to them and
they cast her a sympathetic look. She tapped her fingers on her desk as the
last person filed out. Now what was she going to do for half an hour?

With
the office empty, Violet glanced around and settled back into her chair.
Slipping her hand beneath her skirt, she pushed aside her lace knickers and
flicked over her folds. Yep, soaking wet. It was all her boss’ fault, she
thought resentfully.

Blowing
out a slow breath, she circled her clit, brushing gently until it swelled
underneath her fingers. Working more vigorously, she closed her eyes and
imagined that it was Mr Evans’ strong, warm fingers instead of her own slim
ones. She imagined him kissing at her naked body, taking her nipples between
his teeth before slamming his fingers into her needy cunt.

Her
body tensed and writhed as she slid her fingers in and out before bringing them
back over her nub and rubbing furiously until a sharp, short climax overtook
her. Slowly withdrawing them, she opened her eyes and drew herself back up in
her chair. Reaching for a tissue to wipe her damp fingers, she froze as Mr
Evans’ door swung open.

His
dark eyes fixed onto her. “Violet, come here.”

Looking
from her wet fingers to her boss’ stern brow, she nodded and stood. “Yes, Mr
Evans.”

She
tucked her hands behind her and as soon as he turned his back, she twisted her
hips, hoping her knickers would slide back into place.
Fuck
. If he
didn’t smell her arousal on her fingers, then he would definitely smell it from
between her thighs. And she dare not wipe her hands on her dark red dress. Mr
Evans’ keen eye would surely spot the wet marks.

Following
him into his office, a whiff of his expensive cologne washed over her as he
pressed the door shut behind her.

“Have
a seat.” He motioned to the chair.

Cheeks
heating, she lowered herself into the leather chair, crossing her legs
carefully and tucking her moist fingers into her hand. She cast a glance around
the room. Spartan and simple, it comprised of a large glass desk, black leather
furniture and a mini fridge in one corner. The office sat on the corner of the
building and faced out over the city. His one concession to interior design was
an abstract print on one wall.

Violet
tilted her head and studied it. Now she thought about it, it looked just like a
nude woman. She stared some more. God, she had sex on the brain. What was once
a tasteful print was turning into the image of a spread-eagled woman. Shaking
her head, she turned her attention back to her boss.

Mr
Evans propped himself up against his desk, his arms folded over his chest and
eyed her with a calculating look.

Violet
shifted as the warmth in her cheeks spread across her chest at his scrutiny.
Did he know? No, he couldn’t possibly. Yet there was something in his
expression that told her she could hide nothing from him.

He
broke the silence suddenly, making her jump. “Mr Harrison from the head office
is stopping by shortly. I need you to here to attend to him. We have a lot of
paperwork to go over. You’ll be paid double time.”

“O-of
course, Mr Evans. No problem.” Why her? Though it wasn’t unusual for him to
single her out, there were surely more efficient workers. Still, she wouldn’t
complain. She was broke after drifting from job to job and living in London
wasn’t cheap. Double time would help towards this month’s rent.

“I
have another proposition for you too. A promotion, so to speak.”

“A p-promotion?”

Mr
Evans pushed away from his desk and snatched at a bundle of papers. Thrusting
them into her hand, he moved around behind her. Violet stared at the papers but
she couldn’t focus on the words, not with him so close by. Fuck, his presence
was so…so intimidating. But in the most compelling way. Men might look at her
and think of sex but Mr Evans made her think of sex and a whole lot more.

His
hand came upon her shoulder and he bent over to murmur in her ear. “It’s a
contract. I’ve watched you, Violet. I know what you want and I know what you
need. I have a knack, shall we say, for recognising those that are
naturally…accommodating. You act brash and confident but I know that’s not the
real you.”

Her
throat tightened as Mr Evans traced the shell of her ear with a finger before
trailing across her collarbone. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You
want me to fuck you,” he stated simply.

“No!”

He
chuckled in her ear and she realised it was the first time she’d ever heard him
laugh. God, this was so humiliating. Mr Evans’ hand pressed more persistently,
levering her dress away from her chest and exposing her to his gaze.

“Your
nipples are tight and rosy and begging for my mouth.”

Violet
gasped.

“You
want me to fuck you.”

A hand
closed over her breast and she released a moan. Oh, what was the point in
lying? She wanted him badly. It had to be the worst idea in the world, sleeping
with the boss, but at the moment she didn’t give a shit.

He
pulled his hand out of her dress abruptly. “Look at the contract, Violet.”

Blinking,
she stared at the writing in front of her as he circled around and positioned
himself back on the edge of the desk.
Agreements, blah, blah, blah,
employment rights etc. Contract between Patrick Evans hereafter known as the
…Her
eyes widened…
Master?
She glanced up at Mr Evans and he nodded towards
the paper.

“Keep
reading.”

Violet
Johnson, hereafter known as the Slave?
What the hell?

“You’ll
find the terms quite agreeable, Violet. A pay rise, use of the company’s
private jet and holiday accommodation…”

“Wait.
Mr Evan’s, am I right in thinking that you want to have sex with me?”

“Not
just sex.”

She
bristled. “I’m not a whore, you don’t need to pay me for sex. I would have
fucked you anyway but I don’t want to be paid.” She stood. “In fact, I think
I’d rather forget the idea now.”

“Sit,”
he barked.

Violet
flinched at his sharp tone and immediately sat. She gaped up at the commanding
man, her body alive with conflicting emotions. She wanted to fuck him, she
really did, but she didn’t want to be brought. She wanted him to need her, to
crave her like she did him, not pay her for a quick fuck.

“What
I want, Miss Johnson, is more than just sex. I want your complete and utter
obedience. And I am not paying you to have sex with me. I could take that from you
quite easily, but I will not have my slave struggling to pay her rent and
living off cheap ready-meals. I want you healthy and relaxed so you can pay
your full attention to servicing your master.”

Licking
at her dry lips, Violet gaped at him. “You…you want to dominate me?”

“Yes,
you could say that. You are submissive, Violet, even if you haven’t realised it
yet.”

She
shook her head. “I’m not. I always take the lead. I always have.”

A wry
smile tugged across his strong jaw. “Because your partners have let you.
They’re too weak and grateful to have you in their bed. You need to a strong
partner to treat you properly.” He lowered his voice. “Like a cock-hungry
slut.”

Her
eyes widened at his crude words but she couldn’t ignore the pulse of her pussy.
Was he right? Was this what she’d been missing? No, it couldn’t be. She didn’t
like pain. Violet had never tried BDSM but she’d read enough erotica to know
that it involved spanking and nipple clamps and stuff.

Peeking
at the contract again, she chewed at her lip. The money would be handy. And she
could go on holiday. The company had villas in the Canaries. Perhaps she could
play his game long enough to get a holiday and save up some cash.

“If I
do this, what happens if I change my mind?”

“Same
as any contract. You work notice. A week. And you’ll get a healthy severance
package. Enough to pay your rent for the next year probably.”

“So if
I change my mind, I still have to...to be your slave for a week?”

He
nodded.

Her
body pounded in anticipation as she considered her options. She could give it a
try. If she hated it, she could put up with a week of his attentions, and gain
a nice sum of cash at the end of it, and if she liked it…well, either way,
she’d get his cock inside of her. She was fairly sure she could put up with
quite a bit to give that a try.

“Okay,
I’ll do it.”

Mr
Evans didn’t smile, just nodded again, a glint of triumph in his dark eyes.
Handing her a pen, he shucked off his suit jacket and laid it over the back of
his chair as she leaned over the desk and scribbled her signature.

Before
she could straighten, Mr Evans came around behind her and pushed his hips
against her bottom. She could feel his erection through her dress, hard and
swollen. Peering at him over her shoulder, she noted the predatory look in his
expression and a shudder trailed over her. What had she let herself in for?

“You-you
want to start now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“You
want to as well, Violet. I know your pussy is slick and ready for me.
Especially after your little…private time.”

Violet
snapped her gaze back to the glass desk. “You…you saw?”

“We do
have CCTV, remember?”

“Oh
God.”

“Don’t
worry, slut, I’ll be sure to bring to a much more satisfying climax if you
behave yourself. Just remember with pain comes pleasure.” His hands came around
her, cupping at her breasts and pulling them free from her tight dress. He
pinched at her nipples, causing her to squeal before massaging and tugging
carefully at them, making her womb clench. “See? Be a good girl, take what I
give you and you’ll always be rewarded.”

BOOK: The British Bondage Collection
9.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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