Real Wants

“So,” she said, “if I understand you correctly…”

She paused. And stood. Instinctively I stood as well and she came out in front of the desk. My heart sank. It seemed certain she was escorting me out. “What you want is to do a case study–on us.”

“Yes,” I said, having backed away a bit to give her room. She leaned back on the front of her desk, and once again I couldn’t help but be aware of the way she was dressed, the killer suit, as opposed to me, in my jeans and all. I didn’t have a suit like hers but I could have dressed up a bit.

“It seems our little company is of some fascination to you.”

“It’s a good example of…” I didn’t finish since I could see in her eyes that I’d be simply repeating myself. Jane Stokes had such an intimidating way about her, even with her unbelievably young looks. I knew her company was ten years old, yet this woman could easily pass for her early twenties. I stood there, helplessly mute.

“And while you don’t *need* to use this company, you very much *want* our consent and cooperation to be your case study.”

I tried to read her. Moments before I’d been sure she was going to turn me down but now she was going over the whole thing so deliberately. Did she enjoy drawing out a refusal? I couldn’t tell what she was up to. “Yes,” I said, immediately chagrinned that my word was little more than a mumble.

“You don’t need us.” I stared. I didn’t understand why she repeated the point. “But you very much want us.”

I certainly did. It was *perfect*, I just knew my advisor would approve and things would go smoothly. She still said nothing. “Yes,” I said again.

Her gaze never left me, and I felt when I faltered at holding her eyes that I probably looked guilty about something. It was so hard to look her in the eye. She was so intense.

We stood there. I was rooted to the spot.

“Undo your jeans and push them down.”

I found myself staring. She hadn’t moved a muscle, still sat against the desk. *Could she have said that?* My heart was suddenly beating. What was going on? She simply sat there, watching me. But I knew I hadn’t heard wrong, that she’d said exactly the words I recalled. I didn’t know what to do. I stood there.

Was this her little joke? Her way of chasing me away? Her dare? A test? I needed to leave. I hated to leave, as if she’d bested me with such an outrageous demand. And I *really wanted* this case study. I didn’t know what to do and I hated myself for simply standing there as if I were paralyzed.

She made no move. She simply watched me, still holding my eyes.

I undid my jeans. *What am I doing! This is crazy crazy crazy!* Her eyes never left mine. I pushed them down. “Underpants too,” she said.

I felt a chill, as if I were about to shudder. The jeans were around my thighs. It was so surreal, this businesswoman simply staring at me, saying these things. I pushed my underpants down. “Below your knees,” she said.

As I bent down, I felt her eyes on me. *How can I be doing this? How can this be happening?* I stood up again, feeling so naked, uncovered in such a way. I never saw her eyes off my own. I felt so vulnerable. “Lift your top, above your breasts.”

For a second, thoughts of what might be ahead filled me, but I pushed them aside. I was too afraid to think like that. It was much too late to do anything but continue this. “Undo your bra and lift it off your breasts,” she said when my top was up. In seconds, I wore nothing between my breasts and my knees. With this woman, this stylish, stunning woman watching me, making me do this. “Kara,” she said.

I realized though she still held my eye that she’d pressed her intercom. “Yes Ma’am?” came her receptionist’s voice.

“Come in here,” Jane said.

Panic grabbed me and I knew I needed to stop this, to get myself back together. “Yes Ma’am,” came Kara’s voice. I recalled Kara, no older than myself, the attitude I’d sensed in her about an MBA student coming in as I was.

“Kara,” said Jane, “bring the handcuffs. And a butt plug.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Moments passed. The impulse to run was so strong. I could so easily see myself suddenly struggling to get myself put back together, tripping on the way out. I heard the door open. Jane’s eyes were still on mine and I hadn’t moved. Footsteps came in, behind me. “Give me your wrists,” came Kara’s voice.

*I can’t do this!* She took hold of one of my arms, gently pulling it back. Then the other. *I can’t be allowing this!* I felt metal. And a click. Then her hand went on my ass, just sort of caressing. *I can’t be letting this happen,* I was saying it over and over again in my head. Jane’s eyes were still locked with mine. Kara’s hand slipped to the side of my hip. And then, suddenly, something was against my anus. Pressing. “Relax it,” said Kara.

*This can’t be happening.* “A little more,” said Kara. She pressed harder. It slipped in. She giggled just a second. She gave my rear a little pat, then ran a hand around my body, all the way to my nipple, trailing off her fingers in a quick, light caress. I almost fainted, and realized I was totally turned on.

“Bring in the Sybian,” said Jane.

“Yes Ma’am,” came Kara’s voice, somewhat behind me now, back toward the door. I still stood there, helpless.

“Oh, and get out the cane,” said Jane. Finally, she smiled.