managed to hold deep inside me all the little sounds that wanted to escape.
I heard the mechanical slide of the heavy drapes being shut. As with the building's cameras and the drapes, Stark can control the lamps in the room from his desk. They switched off one by one until the room's illumination was no better than twilight, everything doused in shades of gray.
I waited in that near darkness for what seemed at least fifteen minutes, the room completely silent except for my breathing. Whatever work he had been doing, he stopped. Whether he watched me or not, I felt like he did.
Face turned to the corner, I grimaced at the idea of Stark studying my body. It didn't matter that he was looking for indicators of nervousness, guilt, and a dozen other things -- he had to carefully observe my body to do that. My body -- the thick hips, wide ass, plump thighs, and bountiful breasts. The heels and too snug skirt I had selected that morning only increased my self-consciousness as my shoulders twitched and my hips and thighs flexed.
The skirt and heels magnified even the smallest movement of my body, making me feel like I had ballooned to three times my size.
The sensation made me want to cry -- and curse at him! He had me right where he wanted. The discomfort inflicted on me was by my own choice. That made it all the worse. Even if he had locked the doors, I was choosing to stand in the corner in a dark room filled with silence. Another play straight from Kubark's manual.
At last I heard the creak of his chair and the slide of a drawer. My whole body tightened. My hands, which I had placed palms flat against the wall, curled into fists and I started to shake. Five more minutes passed before I heard another sound.
His footsteps echoed loudly in the large office as he approached me. He didn't stop a respectable distance away when he reached me. His hips pressed against my enlarged backside, the sudden heat of his flesh making me realize my skin had grown cold.
"Don't jump, Mia."
I hadn't moved and the command confused me until his hands came up around my head and a folded band of fabric brushed against my face. I drew a sharp breath in as the blindfold tightened and his fingers worked to tie a knot. His hips pressed against my backside, my bottom molding around a hard center bulge that made my knees weak.
"You left something off your resume, didn't you?"
"Y-yes."
His hands dropped to cradle my hips. When he spoke again, his mouth was right next to my ear, his breath curling warm against my flesh. He had to lean into me to do it, the size of my ass making it impossible otherwise. Feeling the hard press of his rigid flesh between my cheeks, I reflexively squeezed -- and wanted to die on the spot.
"A master's degree in data analytics and you take a job in the secretarial pool of a security company?"
I rested my head against the wall, the earlier tremble back and infecting my entire body. Stark circled one arm around my waist, his palm flat against my stomach to contain or control me. His other hand gripped my hip a little tighter as he cinched me to him.
"Who are you really working for?"
"You." I released the word with a sob as I realized my panties were slowly soaking through. He had me face forward in a corner, blindfolded, my job on the line and I was wet, so turned on that the muscles deep inside my cunt had started to flex and roll, my ass moving with them to cup and fondle his dick.
This wasn't right, wasn't anything like me.
His palm slid over the curve of my stomach, coming to a stop just above my mound. I arched slightly, my ass pressing more insistently against his groin, but my arousal was wasted on Stark. His calm voice and continued interrogation proved this was nothing more than business.
"You lied, Mia. Spies and moles lie. You're not just working for me."
"Please." I couldn't stop the wiggle of my ass and I wasn't sure what I was pleading for -- my job or his touch. "I'm telling the truth. I omitted it
I heard the mechanical slide of the heavy drapes being shut. As with the building's cameras and the drapes, Stark can control the lamps in the room from his desk. They switched off one by one until the room's illumination was no better than twilight, everything doused in shades of gray.
I waited in that near darkness for what seemed at least fifteen minutes, the room completely silent except for my breathing. Whatever work he had been doing, he stopped. Whether he watched me or not, I felt like he did.
Face turned to the corner, I grimaced at the idea of Stark studying my body. It didn't matter that he was looking for indicators of nervousness, guilt, and a dozen other things -- he had to carefully observe my body to do that. My body -- the thick hips, wide ass, plump thighs, and bountiful breasts. The heels and too snug skirt I had selected that morning only increased my self-consciousness as my shoulders twitched and my hips and thighs flexed.
The skirt and heels magnified even the smallest movement of my body, making me feel like I had ballooned to three times my size.
The sensation made me want to cry -- and curse at him! He had me right where he wanted. The discomfort inflicted on me was by my own choice. That made it all the worse. Even if he had locked the doors, I was choosing to stand in the corner in a dark room filled with silence. Another play straight from Kubark's manual.
At last I heard the creak of his chair and the slide of a drawer. My whole body tightened. My hands, which I had placed palms flat against the wall, curled into fists and I started to shake. Five more minutes passed before I heard another sound.
His footsteps echoed loudly in the large office as he approached me. He didn't stop a respectable distance away when he reached me. His hips pressed against my enlarged backside, the sudden heat of his flesh making me realize my skin had grown cold.
"Don't jump, Mia."
I hadn't moved and the command confused me until his hands came up around my head and a folded band of fabric brushed against my face. I drew a sharp breath in as the blindfold tightened and his fingers worked to tie a knot. His hips pressed against my backside, my bottom molding around a hard center bulge that made my knees weak.
"You left something off your resume, didn't you?"
"Y-yes."
His hands dropped to cradle my hips. When he spoke again, his mouth was right next to my ear, his breath curling warm against my flesh. He had to lean into me to do it, the size of my ass making it impossible otherwise. Feeling the hard press of his rigid flesh between my cheeks, I reflexively squeezed -- and wanted to die on the spot.
"A master's degree in data analytics and you take a job in the secretarial pool of a security company?"
I rested my head against the wall, the earlier tremble back and infecting my entire body. Stark circled one arm around my waist, his palm flat against my stomach to contain or control me. His other hand gripped my hip a little tighter as he cinched me to him.
"Who are you really working for?"
"You." I released the word with a sob as I realized my panties were slowly soaking through. He had me face forward in a corner, blindfolded, my job on the line and I was wet, so turned on that the muscles deep inside my cunt had started to flex and roll, my ass moving with them to cup and fondle his dick.
This wasn't right, wasn't anything like me.
His palm slid over the curve of my stomach, coming to a stop just above my mound. I arched slightly, my ass pressing more insistently against his groin, but my arousal was wasted on Stark. His calm voice and continued interrogation proved this was nothing more than business.
"You lied, Mia. Spies and moles lie. You're not just working for me."
"Please." I couldn't stop the wiggle of my ass and I wasn't sure what I was pleading for -- my job or his touch. "I'm telling the truth. I omitted it
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