Anderson stood up, moved swiftly to the door and locked it. He turned to face me. "Kneel," he said. As if compelled by his voice, I sank to my knees. And suddenly Anderson was coming towards me, his hands undoing his belt. I felt a swoop of nervous excitement in my belly. His cock was out and he was standing over me, so that all I could see was him. I knew what he wanted of me, and my body yearned to obey, to please him, to give him what he wanted. I titled my face up and opened my mouth. I felt a hand on the side of my face, cupping my cheek with surprising tenderness. I took him in my mouth.
His cock was big and thick, and it filled my mouth completely. It throbbed against my tongue and cheeks, the silky smoothness of it sliding easily past my lips. I'd not given many blowjobs before in my life, and I wanted desperately to please him. I took him as deep as I dared and swirled my tongue against his cock. Every time I felt it throb or twitch a little shiver of pleasure ran through me.
If I could have seen myself then I don't know what I would have thought. Stripped to underwear and kneeling in the corner of Anderson's office, his cock buried deep in my mouth. I looked up at him, but I couldn't see properly. I dipped my head back and forth and felt him swell against me in response. I was wet, down there between my legs. Wet and horny. I closed my lips around him and sucked.
One of my hands was on his thigh, and another was in my lap. I couldn't help myself - I slipped that hand down between my legs and felt the hotness there, the slick, beautiful wetness. I rubbed at myself through my panties, moving my head and sucking in time. I wanted to make Anderson come, to please him, to serve him. I wanted to swallow his seed. The thought of him being inside me was intoxicating.
Suddenly, a hand was in my hair. It seized a handful, gripped and yanked me to my feet. His cock left my mouth, leaving my jaw faintly aching. I was standing, on tiptoes, face to face with Anderson.
"Did I tell you to touch yourself?" he hissed. I didn't know what to say. My hands hovered in the air, not daring to touch him, or myself.
"I... I'm sorry," I managed to choke out. He still had a tight grip on my hair, and my eyes watered from it. My heart fluttered like a tiny bird against my ribs. Then, with a swift movement he turned me around and shoved me forwards to stand by his desk. I found myself bent over it, with one firm hand pressing into the back of my neck. My cheek was against the hard, dark wood. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath.
The first blow made me gasp. Anderson was using his hand. The sensation was quite different from the sharp bite of the cane. It was less painful, but came with a lot more force. So hard that it jerked me against the wooden surface of the desk. A dark thrill ran through me - something about his bare hand against the curve of my backside was intimate and erotic beyond belief.
He delivered a dozen quick, hard blows. They came in such rapid succession that I could barely catch my breath after one landed before the next one fell. The only sound I made through the whole punishment was a series of strained gasps. I gripped the edges of the desk with my hands and focussed on staying still, on taking the punishment like a good, obedient girl.
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