Unleashing the Receptionist: ...the Receptionist, Book 3 (13 page)

“Hello, my dear,” said Ethan, under his breath. “Is your pet all set? Does he have cock in hand, ready for the show?”

I whispered back. “I can’t speak for his cock, but his eyes looked ready to pop.”

“No wonder. You’re a sight for sore eyes, as always.”

Now that Standish was one of us, I’d felt free to dress in my usual style. Business obscene, you might call it. Thigh-high stockings that didn’t quite reach my kilt, which was fastened with black patent leather buckles. A bustier under a tight cashmere sweater that buttoned up the front. Stiletto boots made me feel six inches taller, though still substantially shorter than either Ethan or Simon.

Ethan raised his voice so the camera mic would pick it up. “We’re going to have you sit in on an interview, Dana. Have a seat.”

He positioned two chairs in front of the desk—at center stage, so to speak. I sat down, mystified. What kind of game did they have in mind? I held my breath as Simon opened the adjoining door to his office.

In walked Belinda, the Girl with the Demon Tongue. She was dressed like a good little job applicant in a tidy blue suit and tight-ass updo, but the excited flush on her face told me she’d come for a lot more than an interview. She winked at me.

I grinned at her, recognizing the genius of Ethan’s idea. Standish would love watching two girls together. I rose and shook her hand.

“Thank you so much for coming in today.”

“My pleasure. I’ve been waiting for the call.” Her seductive smile informed me she knew exactly what she was getting into. I prepared to channel every bad porn movie I’d ever seen.

“Please sit down.” I gestured to the chair that would give Standish the best view of her. “Now,” I said, settling into my chair and pulling out my notepad. “Why don’t you start by telling us about your experience.”

“Well…” Belinda uncrossed her legs, then slowly crossed them again, giving me and the camera a brief shot of bare pussy. “I’ve worked mostly in the food-service field.”

“As you know, we’re not in that business. Would you be willing to consider some other kind of service?”

“That’s why I’m here,” she breathed. “I live to serve.”

Ohh, good answer. She was obviously relishing her role. I decided to throw her a curve ball.

“I can’t help but notice that you’re not wearing underwear.”

“Is that a problem? I find it…confining.”

I nearly snorted at the way she batted her eyelashes. “Not at all. In fact, underwear is frowned on here at Cowell, Dirk & Arthur. Unless it looks like this.”

I unbuttoned my sweater to reveal my bustier, and trailed my fingers across the flesh that plumped over the top.

Her eyes gleamed. “I see. Would something like this do?” She peeled off her jacket and dropped it to the floor. Underneath she wore a see-through camisole. Her breasts sat high on her chest, plump and proud, dark nipples shadowing through the thin fabric.

“Let me consult my superiors.” I turned to Ethan and Simon, who both leaned against Ethan’s desk, trying hard not to laugh. “Gentlemen?” They snapped to attention. Simon prowled toward Belinda, whose eyes went wide. I knew what it was like to be pinned by that lust-narrowed green gaze.

“Hmmm,” he murmured. “Not bad.” He reached his hand into her hair and undid her bun. Her hair came tumbling down, a shower of rich espresso brown. He still had the ruler in one hand, and used it to lift one nipple. It swelled against the wood. Her nipples were the color of red wine. “I think it would look a lot better if your nipples stood out more. Arch, please.”

She arched her chest for the ruler. Simon used it to stimulate one nipple, then the other, then returned to the first one with a harder touch. By the time he was done she was gasping and wiggling back and forth in her chair. Her nipples had lengthened and swollen to the size of corks.

“Put your hands behind your head,” said Simon.

She obeyed immediately. The motion made the camisole pull tight against her aroused breasts.

I squirmed in my chair; the sight was getting me turned on.

“You both seem a bit uncomfortable,” Ethan noted. “Perhaps we should finish this interview with fewer clothes. It is Friday, after all.”

“Friday?” I frowned, puzzled.

“We have to make sure Belinda is okay with our newly instituted Dress Down Friday policy.”

“Right.” Simon slapped the ruler against his palm, making both Belinda and me jump. “On Dress Down Fridays, every hour we get to remove another piece of your clothing. Is that acceptable to you, Belinda?”

She nodded and ran her tongue over her lips.

“Dana?”

I caught the glint in Simon’s eye, his ghost of a wink, the subtle shake of his head. He wanted me to say no.

“I don’t know…” I hesitated.

“You always have options, of course,” said Ethan. “If you choose to argue with company-mandated policy, you can choose to pay the consequences.”

Oooh, consequences. Gotta love those consequences.

I stuck my chin out. “Fine, I’ll accept the consequences. This bustier isn’t exactly easy to take off.”

“Your choice.” His voice suddenly cracked like a horsewhip. “Bend over the desk.”

I scurried to the desk and bent over, resting my elbows on the cool blond-wood surface. I peeped up at Ethan’s face. His eye were narrowed, intent. This had gotten very real, very quickly.

“Simon, lift her skirt. Belinda, you come next to her. We value team spirit here at Cowell, Dirk & Arthur. One for all and all for one.”

Belinda joined me at the desk, the little hairs on her arm brushing against mine. I smelled her excitement, sharp and tangy.

Ethan reached into the opening of my bustier and popped out my nipples, giving each a sharp, intoxicating twist. He did the same with Belinda, drawing down her camisole and lifting out her long nipples. He skimmed his thumb across them thoughtfully. She mewed at his touch.

I wondered if Standish was enjoying his show as much as I was.

Simon came behind me and lifted my skirt with the ruler. He stroked the wood across my rear. My flesh shivered in anticipation.

“Spread your legs for Simon, both of you.”

We all knew it wasn’t just for Simon. If he was looking at his monitor, Standish had a lovely view of my ass bare above the thigh-highs. I stood with my legs farther apart. Belinda moved against me, and I knew she was doing the same thing.

Ethan left us in that position, our breasts heaving in the empty air, and walked around to our rears. His presence was so magnetic, I knew exactly where he was at each moment. I felt the heat of his body just before his strong hand dipped into my pussy, testing, nipping at my wet folds.

“My, my, Ms. Arthur, it seems you like having an audience. But then, I’ve always known you have a bit of the exhibitionist in you.”

My head dipped. Exhibitionist sounded bad, wrong. But it was true. He’d always played with that idea, painting scorching little scenarios with his words. But for the first time, someone was actually watching us and that extra tension went right to my head. And to my pussy. And to my tight, aching nipples.

He withdrew his hand and stepped over to Belinda.

“Belinda, you fit right in here. Don’t worry, my beauty, we’ll tend to you as soon as we’ve dealt with our rebellious receptionist. Why don’t you take a seat until we’re done here.”

The warm body next to me left, so I was all alone, bare-assed against the desk. Deliberate footsteps sounded, then Ethan came back around and lifted my head from its duck of shame.

“None of that. I adore your secret streak of exhibitionism. Anyone would be privileged if you chose to exhibit your luscious body to them. I’m sure Standish can’t take his eyes off your sweet flesh. Your tender thighs, your pink lips studded with moisture, just waiting for a tongue to work its way into you. Your perfect ass, longing for a swift spank.”

And it came, the ruler cracking through the air onto my rear. Adrenaline fizzed through me. Ethan’s fingers went back to my nipples, tightening like screws. He kept tugging on them with rough tweaks, as if he was trying to pull an orgasm straight out of my body. My eyes hazed over and I panted like a dog in heat.

“Jesus,” I breathed.

Another spank sang against my ass. My flesh shook, my knees threatened to give way. Maybe this was just for show, but Ethan and Simon always gave one hundred percent no matter what.

A shift in the air behind me told me that Simon had changed position, maybe to give Standish a better view. He rubbed his hand in circles on my ass, soothing the sting from my skin. Then he ran the ruler up the inside of one thigh, across my dripping sex, then down the other thigh. It trailed moisture across my skin. Then it delved into the source of all that wetness. I groaned as it encountered my clit, heavy and throbbing. The hard wood rubbed me gently, then when I pushed myself eagerly against it, more insistently.

“We’re going to give you a little orgasm, my dear one, then you’ll finish interviewing our applicant. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled as Simon plunged his hand into my sex with a hard stroke of my clit that brought me off instantly. I spasmed on the desk, rocking against his hand, knowing I wasn’t the only one experiencing ecstasy at that moment. I gave a mental air-kiss to the invisible Standish. Then I lost myself in the rush and tumble of my intense climax.

When I came out of it, Ethan was gazing into my eyes with feral command. “Tend to Belinda. I want her to come as hard as you just did. Then I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name.”

“Yes, sir.”

I stood up, got control of my runaway heart rate, pulled my skirt down. Simon helped Belinda to her feet. She looked like she had a fever, all pink and blotchy. I knew the look on her face—complete and utter envy. That expression told me what she wanted. A taste of what I’d gotten.

I straightened my spine—the bustier worked great for that—and flung my voice the way Ethan did, like a lasso. “So, you think you deserve a job here?”

“Yes, I…I think so.” Breathless, she fluttered her eyelashes.

“Then get your ass over here. Show me you can handle it.”

“Right away.”

She hurried to the desk. I put my hand in the small of her back and pushed her down, to her squeak of surprise. Her hips were flush against the desk, her ass round and vulnerable, even though still covered in blue rayon blend.

“When I say I need something, no dawdling. You obey, right away.”

“Yes.”

“Now let me see how much Simon spanked your ass. Don’t move.”

I pulled up her skirt. Her ass cheeks had streaks of pink across them. Her pussy lips glistened. I’d never made a woman come before. But I knew what I liked, and that would have to be enough. I kept one hand pressed on her lower back and kicked her legs apart with my foot. She wore black boots that came to her knees. Her skin was more olive than mine, smooth and hairless compared to a man’s.

Was this how I looked when I was bent over to receive Simon or Ethan? Did my ass cheeks tremble, did the lips of my sex pout in that beckoning way? I experienced a rush of pure power. I could do anything to this woman right now. And she would like it. I felt the quiver of her spine under my hand, the jump of blood pumping through her veins. She squirmed microscopically, an involuntary movement that told me how hard she was trying to follow my instructions not to move. I knew that feeling—vibrating on the edge of a curling wave of orgasm. The men had gotten her to the boiling point. Now I had to bring it on home.

Without warning, I plunged my hand between her legs. Her sex felt hot and unbelievably silky. Her pussy surrounded me with warmth and wetness. It drenched me, as if I were exploring a tropical forest. I sorted through the delicate tissues until I found a hard, swollen nubbin.

Was that how my clit felt to my guys when I got turned on? Did it poke out, like a stubborn pebble? I rubbed it and felt her shake in response. What a freaking rush it was, having this control. I wanted to give her a taste of the ecstasy I got to experience all the time. I found the spot that seemed to make her moan the hardest and moved my finger faster, until she bucked hard against my hand.

I glanced over my shoulder at Ethan and Simon. Both leaned forward in their chairs, watching me with expressions of such ferocious arousal I nearly came all over again.

I turned back to my task. I worked one hand into her hot pussy. With the other I kept her hips pinned to the desk so she could feel my dominance.

“Don’t come until I tell you.”

Her head moved. Her eyes were shut tight, her face bright red, her fingers clutching at the wood of the desk. I kept her there, letting the tension build, the blood pump, the flames burn brighter…

And then—

“Now,” I said, pushing my finger against her thickly swollen clit. It lurched, or maybe she did, but suddenly her entire body was quaking under my hands. I kept my fingers latched tight to her clit, knowing how she needed the pressure, even though it was like trying to steer a car in a windstorm. Her clit pulsed like a hot little beating heart. I felt my own pussy throb as if answering the call. She let out a chorus of shrieks and groans as she rode out the orgasm with the three of us watching.