Chapter 101
"Let's get you acquainted with some of your job description, shall we?"
By four-thirty, Heidi was ready to collapse. She sat in her chair, staring at the computer screen swimming in front of her eyes and rubbing her toes on the carpet. Her heels were under her desk somewhere because her feet were killing her. She hadn't realized how hard it was going to be to keep up with him all day long. It seemed like the man never stopped.
Of course, that wasn't entirely true. They had a nice lunch on the top floor, where there was a restaurant that had a view of the entire city. She still had some of her shrimp scampi in the little refrigerator down the hall to eat for a yummy dinner tonight. And he was quiet now, for the most part, doing something in his office, the door slightly ajar. She could hear him humming.
She had found herself longing for Ty and Lenny and even the girls throughout the day, just to be out on the beach and in the suns.h.i.+ne. There weren't even any windows here in the reception area-she had to look through Mr. Kaiser's door to see the daylight. It was just the newness of it all, and she was sure she would get used to it. Considering the job paid three times what her last position did-and apparently came with free designer clothing-she wasn't going to complain.
But she wondered about the last secretary, the one he had spoken of. Had she quit? Been fired? Heidi found a black silk scarf tucked way back in the top drawer of her desk that smelled like Chanel No. 5 with the monogram "M" and knew it must be hers. She was sure that there had been something between her and Mr. Kaiser-just from the funny look she got from the woman in personnel when she handed in her paperwork.
"Heidi?" he called and she jumped, her heart racing.
"Coming, Mr. Kaiser." She slipped her feet back into her heels and made her way toward his office. She stopped in the doorway, seeing him standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. "Yes, sir?"
He turned his head toward her, but didn't move from the gla.s.s. "Ah. There you are. Come in. Close the door."
Heidi did as she was told, standing between the two wing-backed chairs, waiting. Today had seemed like such a normal office day, she had almost forgotten the events of yesterday and the day before-but her body remembered. Her bottom was tingling and there was a slow heat beginning to spread through her lower belly, just looking at the way he stood, the way his eyes s.h.i.+fted when the door clicked shut behind her.
"Syracuse, you said?" He strode toward his desk. "Where did you intern?"
She cleared her throat, knowing he must already know if he had seen her resume. "I was a wardrobe stylist here in New York for the Tommy Hilfiger Merchandise Coordinator."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Mr. Bourgeois himself."
She flushed. "He's no Kaiser."
"No." His eyes flicked up to hers, moving over her face. "I want you to look at these."
He nodded toward his desk, where there were long rectangular fabric samples laid out over the surface. Heidi hesitated, looking at him and seeing his nod as she reached her hand out for them. The minute her fingers touched them, she sighed, her eyes brightening as she felt each one, immediately beginning to sort.
"What are you doing?" He watched her, his eyes interested.
She looked up, startled. "Oh... just... these over here aren't anywhere near Kaiser quality..."
Pulling out three of the samples, she held them up to the light. "Now, these... have promise. The finer weight... these are handmade... and imported, I would guess. Italy?"
"Yes." He smiled. "Tell me something, Heidi... do you weave?"
Dropping the fabric, she stammered at him, her face growing brighter. "I... yes... sir... since I was a little girl."
"Not so long ago." He sat in his chair and leaned back to look at her. "You haven't had an easy life, have you, Miss Bauer?"
She didn't answer him, looking down at her hands, clasped in front of her now, the fabric samples forgotten.
"Heidi," he reminded her. "I asked you a question."
"No, sir." She swallowed.
Nodding, he dipped his head, trying to catch her eye, but she refused to look up. "You have a fantastic eye, and from what I've seen of the portfolio you turned in, you are an excellent designer. It puzzles me, why you didn't start in our export house or manufacturing...?" She felt the question in his words but she didn't answer him, and she was grateful he didn't ask her directly.
He stood, moving toward her. "Well, we do have a minor disciplinary matter to tend to before we leave today, don't we?" Heidi gasped when he swept the samples onto the floor at their feet. She stared at his desk blotter, seeing how wrinkled it was from her cheek resting against it yesterday. Flus.h.i.+ng at the memory, she held her breath, watching him.
"It will take you a while to learn the rules." He carefully pulled the soiled blotter out of the corners one at a time. "I expect that discipline may take up a bit of our time for a while. I'm not unfair, but ignorance is not an excuse. The words, 'I didn't know' mean nothing to me. Compliance is expected and noncompliance will be punished. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Kaiser."
He nodded once, his eyes slipping down from her face over the line of her jacket, the curve of her skirt over her hips. "Let's see if you're in compliance with the dress code. Turn around."
Heidi turned to face his desk, looking over her shoulder at him standing behind her.
"Skirt up."
She edged it up, revealing her navy blue stockings attached to the garters underneath.
He let out a pent-up breath. "Very good, Miss Bauer." Her face blushed with his praise, his reaction. She could almost feel his eyes moving over the rounded curve of her a.s.s, her skirt lifted high. "But the panties are a problem."
He reached around her, pressing the b.u.t.ton under the desk and locking the door. Then he opened the top drawer of his desk, taking something out. She didn't see what it was, just saw a flash of silver, but then she felt something cold against her skin and recognized the sharp sound of scissors.
"Mr. Kaiser!"
"Unfortunate," he admitted, holding up her soft white cotton panties. "Let's avoid that in the future-no panties from now on, Heidi."
"Yes, sir." The thought of not wearing panties under her skirts to work made her feel faint.
"Put your hands behind your back." She did as she was told, wincing
He wrapped something around her wrists, fabric, tightening his knot and making her bite her lip to try and hide her sharp intake of breath. When he covered her eyes with material, tying the knot behind her head, her stomach rolled over, a heavy thing in her middle.
"Turn."
She turned to face him, disoriented. He reached around her, adjusting something on the desk. She heard the sound of crumpling paper.
"I am a bit meticulous in my habits," he explained. "My blotter should be kept clean, no matter what we are doing on my desk, Miss Bauer. That is your responsibility. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Up onto my blotter, Miss Bauer."
"Sir?" She didn't know if she had heard him correctly, although she was afraid she had.
His voice was clear and firm. "The desk is behind you and the blotter is clean. Keep it unsoiled and unwrinkled."
It was an impossible task, she thought, blindfolded with her hands bound behind her back. She felt behind her, touching the edge of the blotter. The squeak and creak of his chair as he sat startled her, and she knew he was watching.
Putting her hands as far back behind her onto the desk blotter as she could, she arched her back, sliding her bottom up onto the edge. She knew she would wrinkle the blotter page if she slithered backward, and she paused, wondering how to proceed. The sound of his breath reached her ears, slightly heavier than normal.
Kicking her right heel off, she twisted, putting her foot up on the edge of the desk, her skirt riding high up to her waist now. Her stocking slipped just slightly on the surface, but held. Using the muscle in her thigh and rocking her weight back onto her hands, she lifted her bottom clear of the desk surface, slipping her other heel off and seeking purchase with her other foot on the smooth exterior.
"Very good, Miss Bauer," he murmured as she let herself carefully down onto the center of his blotter. Her skirt had managed to slip under her bottom slightly, and she hoped that it would absorb any of her sweat from the effort-she was panting with it.
"Stay like that." She heard his voice coming toward her, the creak of his chair as he stood. She was completely exposed now with her torn panties gone, sitting propped up on his desk blotter, her feet spread wide on either side, careful to stay off the edge of the paper. She used her fingers splayed behind her to balance her weight.
"One of the three fabrics you chose is tied around your wrists." He was close. She could feel his presence between her legs, but he didn't touch her. "The second is serving as your blindfold."
He unbuckled his belt and Heidi clenched her bottom, biting her lip. Then she heard his zipper ticking down and her p.u.s.s.y fluttered in response. She squeezed her muscles tight, afraid that the evidence of her antic.i.p.ation would leak out onto the blotter.
"The third... is in my hand." He touched her cheek with it, rubbing it there for a moment. Then she felt him running it over the inside of her thigh, above the black lace band of her stocking.
"Do you know which one it is, Heidi?" He slipped the fabric over her mound, seeking the skin of her other thigh.
"The... black... pinstripe..." She c.o.c.ked her head at a new sound, a soft shuffling coming from somewhere between her legs.
"Yes." He chuckled. "My textile savant..."
"Hold this for me." He pressed the cloth against her lips and she opened them as the fabric filled her mouth. She held it there, now bound, blindfolded and gagged, completely exposed and spread open on his desk.
She moaned through the fabric when she felt the head of his c.o.c.k rubbing against her slit. It was just a tease, back and forth, near her c.l.i.t but not quite touching. His c.o.c.k head was spongy soft against her flesh, but when he pressed his weight against her, just slightly, she could feel the hard insistence of him. She found herself wanting him to grab her, plunge deep, and f.u.c.k her senseless. She was breathless with wanting it, squirming, her muscles taut and trembling.
"You will be careful with my blotter in the future, won't you, Heidi?" She moaned when he did touch her c.l.i.t with the head, slapping it there, once, twice, a third time, making a wet sound that filled the room. "I asked you a question."
Through the fabric, her "Yes, sir," was very m.u.f.fled.
That sound reached her ears again, a slow shuttling, growing faster, and she knew he was masturbating between her legs. She wanted to see him, but she could feel his eyes on her, even though she was blindfolded. He was looking at her as he pumped his hard c.o.c.k in his fist, only inches away from her wetness.
His breathing was labored, and the sound between her legs began to swell, his hand going so fast it wasn't rhythmic so much anymore as continuous, a lightning fast hammering between her thighs. Heidi's nostrils flared with her heightened breath that matched his own, her p.u.s.s.y aching as she listened to him masturbating.
She moaned through her gag, feeling his pumping hand moving right against her p.u.s.s.y, making a wet sound as he jerked himself against her flesh. He gave a low growl and Heidi gasped and trembled as she felt a sudden flood of spurting, hot fluid exploding against her p.u.s.s.y. She could feel the weight of it on her c.l.i.t, dribbling slowly down her slit, and she gasped, biting down on the fabric in her mouth as she squeezed her muscles together, willing his c.u.m to stay put, not to slip down further and stain the blotter.
She felt his c.u.m sliding down past her p.u.s.s.y, toward the crack of her a.s.s. Tilting herself back a little, she hoped that, at the very least, it would simply stain her skirt. He was zipping, doing up his belt buckle-she knew the sounds already. And then the scissors snipped near her wrists, freeing her hands.
"Use your gag to clean up." He undid her blindfold. The world seemed incredibly bright, the light through the window blinding. Heidi pulled the fabric quickly out of her mouth, slipping it between her legs to catch the slippery wetness of his c.u.m running down her a.s.s.
"Watch the blotter," he warned, turning and striding back to the window. Her hands free now, Heidi rolled carefully off the blotter, hopping to the floor. She looked back at it, fearful, but didn't see any stains. Relieved, she slipped her shoes back on, picking her torn panties up and putting them into her skirt pocket.
"It's four-fifty-nine." He looked at his watch. It glinted in the sun as he stood at the window. "We're done for the day."
"Thank you." She squeezed her legs together. His c.u.m was sticky between her thighs, the pinstriped fabric, damp with her saliva, now caught between her p.u.s.s.y lips.
"Don't forget your bag," he reminded her as she wobbled toward the door.
"Thank you," she said again, swerving toward the wardrobe and taking the grey bag out, slinging it over her shoulder.
"See you Monday," he said.
Her heart lurched. She had forgotten it was Friday.
The elevator opened and Heidi glanced over her shoulder, juggling the grey bag, her purse, and the Styrofoam container from lunch, as Mr. Kaiser closed his office door. She saw a glimpse of his s.h.i.+rt sleeve and cufflinks.
The minute the elevator doors closed, she pulled her skirt up, finding the slick cloth between her legs and rubbing it hard and fast against her throbbing c.l.i.t.
"'Very good, Miss Bauer,'" she whispered, watching the floors pa.s.s with half-closed eyes, knowing that at any moment, the elevator could halt to pick up more pa.s.sengers, but she couldn't stop.
She rubbed the c.u.m-stained fabric against her c.l.i.t, whispering, "Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" until she finally came, her body shuddering and twisting in the corner of the empty elevator.
She slipped the fabric sample out from between her lips, bringing it up to her mouth and licking the taste of them together off the material as she clutched the railing, her ears ringing, the bag falling to the floor.
The doors behind her opened to reveal two men in suits waiting to get on. Heidi straightened up and slipped the fabric into her pocket with her panties, trying to juggle her purse and the Styrofoam container.
"Is that yours?" one of the men asked, pointing to the grey bag.
"Oh," she breathed, still gasping. "Yes."
"Here," the other one said, picking it up and handing it to her.
"Thank you." She slung it back over her shoulder and faced forward, leaning against the wall.
The numbers couldn't light up fast enough as the elevator took her down to the first floor where she could rush home and touch herself, remembering him, again and again. She didn't know how she was going to make it through the weekend.
Chapter Four.
"Carvel?" Heidi whispered, nearly losing her grip on the coffee mug right over the blotter. She managed to catch it, not spilling a drop, before setting it on a coaster. "Roberto Carvel?"
"Yes," Warren Kaiser replied, tilting his head to frown at her. "Heidi, if you are going to work here, you really must stop sounding star struck every time I mention the name of a designer."
"I'm sorry." She straightened up and smoothed her hand over her skirt. His eyes followed her hands, the frown growing.
"A thousand dollar outfit and you still look like a little mouse," he sighed. "Maybe it's the hair. Perhaps I should send you to a salon?"
"Oh." She tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry."
She had been wearing designer outfits every day and feeling like a queen. Today she was wearing Donna Karan, a knee-length pleated black skirt and a grey stretch v-neck cashmere sweater.
"Here." Kaiser wrote something down on a yellow legal pad and tore the sheet off, handing it to her. "Call this number and make an appointment. I'll give you time during your lunch hour tomorrow."
"Thank you." She folded the paper and slipped it into her skirt pocket.
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Let me know when Carvel arrives."
Heidi slipped out of his office, closing the door behind her with a sigh. It had been a difficult few weeks, trying to say and do everything right. He had been right about there being an adjustment period. She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned back against the door. She wanted nothing more than to please him, but his punishments had been so awfully delightful she didn't know if she wanted to be that good.
The elevator doors opened and she startled, smoothing her skirt again as Robert Carvel strolled towards her. His gray hair and beard and olive complexion reminded her a great deal of Sean Connery, although his accent was Italian instead of Scottish. She straightened, determined to make a good first impression.