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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SULTRY SPRING
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Chapter Fifteen
Hi. My name is Ted. I work for a woman.
But before you start ribbing me, let me assure you that I also play
football for my high school football team. I did well that year and my
team won the All County Championships.
Early summer came and I decided to increase my hours at work. One
nice thing about having a job is that my parents stopped asking me where I
was going all the time. They just assumed I was at work. At the same
time, also, they began having problems in their marriage. So after a
number of years of being quite prominent on their Òradar screenÓ suddenly,
at 16, I found myself in the postion of not being missed.
I work for a Civil Engineering firm. ItÕs a pretty big firm. We do a
lot of overseas work. In case you didnÕt know, Civil Engineering is still
pretty much a ÒmanÕs domainÓ. Nonetheless twice a year we have ÒTake
Your Daughter to Work Day.Ó This was my undoing, in more ways than one.
On ÒTake Your Daughter to Work DayÓ all these little girls show up. I
mean, it is a real pain. There is this one girl named Kristin. SheÕs the
daughter of a secretary. She came to the firm on ÒTake Your Daughter to
Work DayÓ and I thought she was pretty cute, so I decided to tell her some
of my sex jokes. For whatever reason (maybe because her brains are in her
tits), she didnÕt like my jokes. This of course meant that my fantasies of
getting sucked off by her in the broom closet were considerably reduced.
So I decided to spray her with cleaning fluid.
This did not improve my chances of getting Kristin to blow job me.
In fact, she complained to Miss Wood.
Miss Wood is the woman I work for. SheÕs 23. SheÕs in charge of all
us guys in Civil Engineering. Naturally there was some grumbling when
she was first assigned to head our department, fresh out of college. But
that was before my time; I didnÕt start working at the firm until after
sheÕd already arrived. But some men were still sore about her, when I got
there. As for why such a Òyoung ladyÓ, as they liked to call her (behind her
back of course) had been assigned to lead us there was this quality
mentioned most often:
ÒMiss Wood is very efficient. She can make a man cum in two and a
half seconds.Ó
Anyway, Kristin complained to Miss Wood that IÕd squirted her with
cleaning fluid. So, after laboring in the bowels of the firm in relative
annonymity for two and a half months, I suddenly found myself summoned
to speak to the boss.
I had to wait for ten minutes in the anteroom outside her office.
Finally, her secretary told me to go in.
ÒHello, Miss Wood,Ó I said, stepping into my bossÕs office and
immediately having my breath taken away by the panoramic view of New
York behind her.
ÒHello,Ó Miss Wood said. She didnÕt look up from some papers she
was shuffling on her desk. ÒSit down... ...Theodore,Ó she said, after
checking to see what my name was on a file folder under the papers.
ÒYes, Miss Wood,Ó I said. I settled into one of the plush chairs
opposite her desk.
ÒTheodore Granite?Ó Miss Wood asked, checking my name again. It
was then that she looked up. ÒOh.Ó She said, surprised to see that I was
so young. ÒYou must be the student aid,Ó she said.
ÒThe Student Aid Draftsman Trainee,Ó I corrected her. My title was
low enough already. I didnÕt need her shortening it.
ÒMmmm. May I call you Ted?Ó Miss Wood asked, her demeanor
softening a little.
ÒSure,Ó I told her. ÒEveryone else does.Ó
ÒAh, yes, Ted.Ó Miss Wood cleared her throat. It was a rather
melodious sound, I thought. Rather that making her seem more important
it revealed a kind of nervousness in her manner, which I hadnÕt detected
before. Then she furrowed her brow and said, ÒTed, we have something
here at the firm called Sexual Harassment Law. IÕm not certain of all its
provisions, but I assume it includes a prohibition against spraying little
girls with cleaning fluid.Ó
ÒYes, Miss Wood,Ó I said. At the same time, I did not overlook that
sheÕd called Kristin a Òlittle girlÓ. I thought that was pretty cool. I mean,
if the girl couldnÕt take a joke, thatÕs what she was.
ÒTed, itÕs difficult for me to run a shop composed entirely of men
like yourself,Ó Miss Wood said.
I felt myself sitting up straighter. First Kristin was a Òlittle girlÓ,
now I was a ÒmanÓ. I was beginning to like this woman.
ÒTed, I would like you to set an example for the other men to
follow,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒDo you think you could do that?Ó
ÒYes, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
She looked down at my file. She pulled it from underneath the other
papers. She opened it and began shuffling through all the paperwork
inside: my grades from school, my letter of recommendation from my
coach, my permission letter from my mom saying I could work whatever
hours Miss Wood thought were appropriate, even if it meant staying late
and doing some overtime. I wasnÕt real keen about Miss Wood seeing the
letter from my mom (after all, ÒmenÓ didnÕt need permission slips from
their mom). But Miss Wood did make me happy when she looked up at me
and said,
ÒTed, would you like to work more closely with me, here in my
office?Ó
ÒUh, sure Miss Wood,Ó I said. I had admired her from a distance. All
us guys did. We watched her coming in to work. We never missed gaping
after her when she went for her breaks. We even kept track of her
bathroom breaks, not intentionally at first, just staring after her when
she went for them. There was a guy in the back of our office. Like the
rest of us heÕd been gawking at Miss Wood when she took her breaks. After
a while he started listing what time they usually occured, so that nobody
would miss them. Then, when heÕd made a list of her Òusual timesÓ, he
secretly xeroxed it and passed it around to us.
I looked at my watch. It said 9:35. Miss Wood would be peeing in
approximately 10 minutes.
ÒTed, I see here in your folder that you were hired without any
skills,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒThatÕs correct, Miss Wood,Ó I said. Nine minutes to go.
ÒDo you enjoy your drafting?Ó
ÒItÕs okay,Ó I said. ÒIÕm afraid IÕm not much of an artist.Ó
ÒWell, Ted, if you prefer, I believe practising your typing would be of
greater benefit to you in the coming years. And learning shorthand too. I
made excellent notes in college, because IÕd learned shorthand. Unless,
that is, you have your heart set on being an engineer?Ó
ÒUh, no Miss Wood,Ó I said. ÒActually IÕm planning on being a
doctor.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒWell, learning shorthand from my secretary,
and practising your typing, would serve you excellently in medical school.
Would you like to work here in my office, I mean, with my secretary?Ó
ÒSure, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒHmmm,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒI donÕt want to harm your sense of your
masculinity, though.Ó She looked at my papers in my file. ÒI see you play
football?Ó she asked.
ÒYes, Miss Wood,Ó I said. ÒThe seasonÕs over now, though. We won
the All County Championships.Ó
ÒAh, well congratulations,Ó Miss Wood told me. She gave me a broad
smile. ÒIÕll tell you what. IÕll make you my Personal Secretary and Sports
Advisor. Perhaps our firm will buy some jerseys for your team next year,
if I think itÕs a wise investment.Ó
ÒWow! Thanks Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒWell itÕs not a guarantee,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒFirst you would have
to advise me, in an unbiased way, you understand, about your teamÕs
potential for repeating their success next season. In any event, Ted, it
will mean that you arenÕt just my secretary, which some of the men who
work here might regard as a sissyÕs job. Just say that youÕre my Sports
Advisor, and that the firm is thinking of increasing its exposure through
sports. Do you think you can handle that, Ted?Ó she asked me.
ÒSure, Miss Wood!Ó I said.
ÒNow if youÕll excuse me, IÕve got to take a small break,Ó Miss Wood
said.
I looked at my watch. It said 9:45. I grinned and opened the door for
her.
A week passed. I moved from my Civil Engineering desk, in the
drafting department, to the anteroom outside Miss WoodÕs office.
Surprisingly, I took only a little ribbing from the other guys. After all, I
now had a Òclose-upÓ view of all Miss WoodÕs comings and goings.
One evening I was working late. It was a Friday. Miss WoodÕs
secretary had left early for a medical appointment. I was just finishing
up a letter when Miss Wood came out of her office. She was putting on her
coat.
ÒOh, hello Ted,Ó Miss Wood said. She looked ravishing in her skirt
and blouse; prim and proper and at the same time alluring.
ÒHi, Miss Wood,Ó I answered.
ÒAre you working late?Ó Miss Wood asked.
ÒNot intentionally,Ó I assured her. ÒI came back late from lunch.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Miss Wood said. She was holding some papers under her arm.
ÒAre you taking work home?Ó I asked her.
ÒI have to, Ted,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒOur office has gotten a flood
of contracts all of a sudden.Ó
ÒIÕm sorry to hear that, Miss Wood,Ó I said. ÒIs there anything I can
do to help?Ó
She smiled. She lifted a hand and brushed back her hair. It was
golden-blonde, and long. She pinned it up for work but did it in a loose
way. I guess it was so she wouldnÕt look excessively businesslike.
ÒTed, I would love for you to help me, but I canÕt pay you for more
than an extra hour,Ó Miss Wood told me.
ÒThatÕs okay, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒI mean, we might not be finished in an hour, Ted,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒWhen do you have to be home?Ó
ÒNot any particular time,Ó I told her.
ÒDo you have any plans for this evening?Ó Miss Wood asked me.
ÒNo,Ó I said. I drank in the swell of her bust as she finished pulling
on her coat. ÒIÕm pretty bored, so if you want me to help, IÕll be more than
glad to, Miss Wood. ThereÕs no need to pay me for the extra hour or
anything.Ó
ÒOh, no, I insist!Ó Miss Wood told me. She looked around. The office
was mostly dark. ÒItÕs just that, well, you know, on the books, I canÕt be
putting down that you worked until eleven at night. I mean, if it takes
that long,Ó she added.
I stood up. ÒReally, thatÕs fine, Miss Wood,Ó I told her. I walked over
to where she was standing. For some reason I donÕt even understand I
walked behind her and adjusted her jacket. IÕm bigger than her and she
seemed to cringe a little as I helped her. ÒMay I carry your papers for
you?Ó I asked, when IÕd finished straightening her jacket.
ÒWhy, thank you, Ted!Ó Miss Wood said.
We walked through the rain to Miss WoodÕs car. It sat alone in the
parking lot. I felt sorry for her working so late. When IÕd been a
draftsman IÕd left work with all the other guys, right at 5 oÕclock. WeÕd
called Miss Wood a ÒbitchÓ, behind her back, for working late. It was
something she often did. We assumed she was trying to be a hard-ass.
Now, as I walked beside her, I felt the enormity of her
responsibility, running that big firm full of men who kept track of when
she used the toilet. She felt small and lonely walking beside me. It was
raining. She held her arm high to shield me from the rain with her
umbrella.
ÒIÕm not worried about getting wet, Miss Wood,Ó I said. I didnÕt want
her to strain her arm.
ÒItÕs alright, Ted,Ó Miss Wood said.
We crossed the parking lot. Miss Wood unlocked the side door of her
car for me. We got in. The rain drummed on the windshield and Miss Wood
started the engine, then the wipers. I watched as the rain was swept
away by the blades, only to immediately reappear on the windshield.
ÒMiss Wood?Ó I said.
ÒYes?Ó she asked.
ÒI think youÕre quite pretty,Ó I told her.
ÒWhy, thank you, Ted,Ó Miss Wood said. She blushed. She looked at
me. ÒI have quite a high opinion of you too, Ted,Ó she said.
We arrived at Miss WoodÕs. It was a townhouse; a nice place
situated at the end of a row of townhomes built along a golf course. Miss
Wood pulled into the small private garage built between her town home
and the one next door. We got out of her car and went inside.
She had a nice place. Expensive furniture, nice paintings on the
walls, some china dolls arranged in a glass hutch. She invited me to sit
down in her living room. Then she went into her kitchen and fixed me
some coffee.
We worked together for a half hour or so. Then she asked me if IÕd
like some dinner. Of course I said yes; as a football player I tend to eat a
lot. She asked me if IÕd like to go out to dinner. Or would I prefer if she
just microwaved something?
ÒItÕs raining out, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒOh, Ted,Ó she laughed. ÒHow formal I am still making you be!
Please call me Chloe.Ó
ÒOh, okay,Ó I said. I got up and opened the curtain by her front
window. I looked out. Miss Wood came up beside me. She put a hand on my
shoulder and we watched the rain together.
ÒItÕs raining cats and dogs out there,Ó I said.
ÒYes,Ó Miss Wood answered. She squeezed my shoulder. ÒWould you
be truly upset with me if I threw something in the microwave for us?Ó she
asked me.
ÒNo, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒReally, Ted, ItÕs Chloe,Ó Miss Wood told me. She peered up at me.
Suddenly I found myself embracing her and we kissed. It lasted awhile.
When at last we parted she looked flustered; I was feeling a certain
bulging wetness down in my crotch.
ÒTed, would it be alright if I changed out of my work clothes?Ó Miss
Wood asked me.
ÒNo, not at all,Ó I said. I felt a little breathless saying that. I had
learned from the movies that special things sometimes happened when a
woman said that.
ÒThank you, Ted,Ó she said.
ÒIn fact, if you like, I can microwave our dinners while you change,Ó
I told her.
ÒOh, youÕre a doll, Ted!Ó Miss Wood said. ÒPlease do.Ó
Miss Wood took awhile to change. When at last she came into the
kitchen, I had already begun eating. In fact, I was eating the dinner IÕd
microwaved for her by then, having already finished my own.
ÒSorry,Ó I said, looking up. ÒYours was getting cold.Ó As the words
escaped my mouth I felt my heart jump. Miss Wood had her hair pinned
loosely, as before, and her glasses on. But there the resemblance to her
previous appearance ended. In place of her work skirt, and blouse, and
jacket, she now wore a simple sleep shirt. It hung to just below her pubis.
When she lifted a hand to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen into
her eyes, her shirt lifted. I saw matching black panties beneath the hem
of her black shirt. The shirt itself was slightly transparent; through the
dark material I could just make out the color of her nipples, set off
against the pale swell of her breast flesh. As she regarded me, and I
regarded her, twin points appeared at the tips of her bosoms.
ÒAm I too casual?Ó Miss Wood asked. She blushed.
ÒNo, not at all, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒPlease, Ted. Call me Chloe. WeÕre not at work anymore,Ó Miss Wood
insisted.
ÒReally, I prefer calling you ÔMiss Wood,ÕÓ I said. I felt a lump in my
throat.
ÒOh,Ó Miss Wood said. She turned. The shirt she was wearing, I saw,
was slit on both sides. The slits rose from her hemline up to her waist.
As she moved the front of her shirt flipped out a little, due to the motion
of her thighs. I caught another glimpse of her panties. She put her back to
me and raised up on her tip toes to get something from a high shelf in one
of her kitchen cabinets. As she lifted herself on her toes, and reached up,
the back of her shirt ascended. I saw the panties she was wearing under
her shirt were thong panties. They left the white globes of her bottom
bare.
Miss Wood found what she was looking for and took it down from the
shelf. She closed the cabinet. She turned to me and opened the box. It
was a box of granola. She dipped her hand into the box and put some
granola in her mouth. She chewed it and swallowed.
ÒSometimes I like to just have granola for dinner,Ó she told me. ÒI
eat too much at lunch anyway.Ó She smiled. ÒWhy do you prefer to call me
Miss Wood?Ó
ÒI-- I donÕt know,Ó I said. I looked at her throat. I noticed that,
despite the casual nature of her shirt, she had a tight little leather choker
around her neck. It was decorated with a slim chain. The choker was
black, like her shirt and panties, and at first I hadnÕt noticed it but now I
found myself staring at it. It looked awesome ringing her white swan-like
throat, with her pale face above it and her golden-blonde hair loosely
hanging down in strands on either side of it.
ÒI knew a guy once who didnÕt like to call me Miss Wood but did like
to call me Miss Stress,Ó Miss Wood told me.
ÒHmmm,Ó I said. I felt the bulge in my pants increase. While Miss
Wood had been changing IÕd checked my pants. Fortunately the wetness I
felt there had been only pre-cum. ÒI like that name too,Ó I told her.
ÒReally?Ó Miss Wood asked. Her eyes widened.
ÒYes. Very much so,Ó I told her. ÒIn fact I like it better than Miss
Wood,Ó I said.
ÒYouÕre tempting me,Ó Miss Wood smiled.
ÒNo IÕm not,Ó I told her. ÒIn fact, itÕs... er... rather descriptive.Ó
ÒOh, how foolish I am!Ó Miss Wood said. She put her box of granola
down on the table. She looked at me. I was just finishing her dinner for
her. I reached for the box of granola.
ÒCan I have some, Miss Wood?Ó I asked.
ÒYes, Ted,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒAnd if you like, I think I have a
bathrobe in my bedroom. A boyfriend of mine left here when he broke up
with me. Would you like to change into it?Ó
ÒSure,Ó I told her.
ÒIÕll have something to eat while you change,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒSomething more substantial.Ó She watched as I began to eat from the
granola box. ÒSometimes I donÕt have much energy if I just eat granola,Ó
she confessed. ÒIf you like you can have a shower or shave or whatever.
You know, whatever makes you comfortable.Ó
ÒThanks, Miss Wood,Ó I told her.
ÒAre you sure you donÕt want to call me Chloe?Ó she asked.
ÒIn my mind you are Chloe,Ó I said to her. ÒBut I like calling you
Miss Wood. In fact, if youÕll let me, IÕd like to even call you Mistress.Ó I
deliberately let the two words join together. She smiled.
ÒReally, Ted?Ó she asked.
ÒYes, very much so,Ó I told her.
ÒOh alright,Ó she said, in a very casual way. She brushed back her
hair. She looked lovely in her glasses. What a contrast-- prim, business-
like glasses, plus her sexy little nightshirt! I was having hot flashes. I
hoped it didnÕt lead to disaster in my pants.
ÒMy bedroom is just down the hall. YouÕll find my bathroom on the
right, inside the door,Ó Miss Wood said, as I walked from the kitchen. I
was half hoping sheÕd come with me, but she didnÕt. ÒBe sure to try on the
bath robe,Ó she called after me when I walked down the hall. ÒI wouldnÕt
want you not to be comfortable!Ó
ÒOkay,Ó I called back to her. She looked lovely standing there in the
light from the kitchen, her hair like a goldspun halo around her head. I
smiled. I couldnÕt see if she smiled back, though. The light from the
kitchen illuminated her from behind, leaving her front in darkness.
We sat working, in the living room. I wore the bath robe her
boyfriend had left behind. It fit me well. He must have big like myself, I
mused.
As for my dick, it was greatly relieved to be out of my pants. It
jutted into the front of my robe but Miss Wood pretended not to notice it.
As for her nipples, they remained tight little points in her nightshirt. We
were both excited. The only question was, would we confess our interest
to each other again, as weÕd done by the window, or would we let the night
slip away?
Finally Miss Wood looked up from some papers sheÕd been writing on.
IÕd called her ÒMistressÓ several times, but to no particular effect. She
just nodded each time, as if IÕd called her ÒMiss WoodÓ, or ÒChloeÓ. When
she looked up from her papers this time, however, there was a slight
furrow to her brow.
ÒTed,Ó she said. ÒDo you really enjoy calling me Mistress?Ó
ÒYes,Ó I said. She looked at my crotch. I blushed, knowing she could
see the jut of my cock under my bath robe.
ÒDoes it excite you that much?Ó she asked.
ÒUh-huh,Ó I said.
Miss Wood smiled. ÒYou would be experiencing real excitement, and
not just harrassing me with that, would you?Ó she asked.
ÒYes, of course,Ó I answered.
ÒLittle Kristin called me today. She asked if you were still prowling
around the office with cleaning fluid, shooting people.Ó
ÒNo,Ó I said.
ÒI know,Ó Miss Wood said. She put her pen to her mouth. She sucked
on the tip. She uncrossed her legs. I let my eyes wander between her
thighs. I saw the crotch of her panties. Her nightshirt was too short to
cover it when she was sitting down. She looked tight there; small and
perfectly tight. I felt my heartbeat increase.
ÒAre you comfortable?Ó Miss Wood asked me.
ÒYes,Ó I said.
ÒYou donÕt look comfortable with that big thing sticking up like
that,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒNo, really,Ó I protested. ÒIÕm much more comfortable with it that
way. Than, you know... than having it in my pants.Ó
ÒWell I want you to be comfortable,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒYouÕve
been very good to do all this work with me.Ó
ÒDo you mind me asking you a rather embarassing question? From
the point of view of sexual harassment, I mean,Ó Miss Wood said. She kept
her eyes on my crotch.
ÒNo, not at all,Ó I told her.
ÒDo you feel more vulnerable when youÕre sticking out like that, or
do you feel powerful?Ó
ÒIÕm... IÕm not sure,Ó I said.
ÒI see,Ó Miss Wood answered. ÒWell as I woman I must say I find
your... condition... rather threatening. I mean, just from an unbiased
standpoint. Like, if I didnÕt know you, and I saw you that way.Ó
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó I said. I gazed at the points of her nipples. ÒWell girls
do a lot of things that arouse guys,Ó I said.
ÒYes of course,Ó Miss Wood said. She flushed. ÒBut we are not the
oppressors, you know what I mean? WeÕre the victims. WeÕre the ones
who get pregnant from things like youÕve got.Ó
ÒTrue,Ó I said. How curious it was to be sitting there, discussing
social theory, while at the same time ÔrelaxedÕ, with our sexual parts
straining to be seen. Miss Wood seemed to want to seduce me, and yet, at
the same time, to be afraid to, and to be circling around the matter as a
result.
ÒWhat time do I need to take you home?Ó Miss Wood asked me.
ÒYou... uh... can take your time about that,Ó I told her.
ÒReally?Ó she asked. ÒOh, but I think the age at which, you know, I
think you must be 18 for me to allow you to stay the night.Ó
ÒActually I donÕt think my parents would notice,Ó I said. ÒTheyÕre
getting divorced.Ó
ÒOh, IÕm sorry to hear that,Ó Miss Wood said. She sucked on her pen
again. ÒWould you like to go upstairs and lie down? I can finish this
paperwork by myself. Maybe... maybe if you had a rest your thing wouldnÕt
be so... enlarged,Ó Miss Wood said.
I wondered how much experience sheÕd had of men. She claimed to
have had a boyfriend, and I was sure she wasnÕt a virgin. Yet the way she
looked at me now, frankly concerned that my erection might be needing
some sleep, surprised me. Finally she smiled and said, ÒI wish I had a
guest bedroom. But I donÕt. At least, not one with a bed in it. I have to do
some more work down here on the couch but you can go ahead up and lie
down if you wish. ThereÕs a fireplace in my bedroom. Would you like for
me to light it for you?Ó
ÒUm, I think I can manage,Ó I said. ÒI was admiring that fireplace.
It looks really cool in your bedroom.Ó
ÒThank you,Ó Miss Wood told me.
ÒSay, I saw you had a bottle of Chablis in your bedroom too. Mind if I
drink some?Ó
ÒTed, youÕre only 16,Ó Miss Wood told me.
ÒIÕve drunk wine before,Ó I said. ÒMy parents donÕt mind. We have it
at dinner sometimes.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó Miss Wood smiled. ÒPut on some music too if you like. I
have a stereo in my bedroom.Ó
ÒThanks, Miss Wood!Ó I said.
She went back to work, sitting there all alone on her couch, with the
sound of the rain coming down beyond the curtains of her living room.
I felt really good. I opened the Chablis. I started the fire. I looked
for Van Halen among her CDÕs but all I could find was soft romantic type
music. Oh well, I was supposed to be relaxing. I figured I could stand
some romantic music in such nice surroundings as these.
Miss Wood had a big bed. It was a four-poster bed, raised high off
the floor, with little steps leading up to it. I climbed up, avoiding the
steps so I wouldnÕt feel like a sissy, and lay down.
It was a really nice bed. The cover was made of bearskin, or
something close to the look and feel of bearskin. I didnÕt bother to pull
back the cover, thinking perhaps that would seem like I was making
myself too comfortable. I lay there on the bed in my bath robe and
watched with delight as my cock found its way free of my bath robe and
stuck like a flag post into the air. It was naked and free. I lay drinking
the wine and looking at it. The fire cast a warm glow and I could feel the
warmth of the flames on my dick. I listened to the soft music coming
from Miss WoodÕs stereo. Something about a moon over San Francisco.
ÒNot a moon, but a flag pole,Ó I said to myself. ÒAnd itÕs not over
San Francisco but New York.Ó
I fell asleep. I didnÕt mean to. When I awoke Miss Wood was on the
bed, kneeling on it, beside my prone body. She was shaking me.
ÒTed. Ted, wake up!Ó Miss Wood told me.
ÒOh, sorry,Ó I said. She lifted the bottle of wine off my body. It was
angled against the side of my body and I saw that IÕd nearly spilled it all
over the bed.
ÒYou should drink this in a glass,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒThis isnÕt
the Old West, Ted.Ó
ÒIÕm sorry Miss Wood,Ó I answered. I looked down at myself. To my
shock my dick was still sticking out. It looked big and raw. It showed its
entire length between the opened halves of my bathrobe, as if it were
trying to stab someone. Hastily I pulled my bathrobe closed. But my dick
could still be seen, all the same, sticking up like before as if it were
waiting to have a flag mounted on it.
Miss Wood got down off the bed, using the steps. She walked to the
bureau where her wine glasses were and asked me if IÕd like it if she
poured me a glass.
ÒSure, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒI wouldnÕt want to get you drunk, though,Ó Miss Wood said, gazing at
the bottle and seeing that IÕd already had about a fourth of it.
ÒNo, thatÕs okay,Ó I said. ÒI donÕt get drunk too easily.Ó
She poured a glass for myself and for her. Then she brought my glass
to me. Leaning over the bed, not getting up on it this time, she handed me
my glass. Her shirt fell open in front and I saw her bosoms, almost to the
tips of her nipples.
ÒThanks, Miss Wood,Ó I said.
ÒIs the fire warm enough?Ó Miss Wood asked, turning and gazing at
it, while lifting her glass to her lips and tasting the wine.
ÒYeah, sure,Ó I said.
ÒMmmm, I liked the album you picked,Ó Miss Wood told me.
ÒI prefer Van Halen, actually,Ó I told her. I sat up a little and drank
my wine.
ÒOh, thatÕs hardly romantic,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒTrue,Ó I answered.
ÒOr relaxing,Ó Miss Wood added. She looked at me. ÒAre you
comfortable, Ted?Ó she asked.
ÒYes, very much so,Ó I said. ÒYou have a nice bed spread.Ó
ÒMmmm, thanks,Ó Miss Wood said, drinking more of her wine. ÒI like
lying on it naked sometimes. ItÕs very soft.Ó
ÒYeah,Ó I said.
ÒHave you ever laid on a faux bearskin before?Ó Miss Wood asked me.
ÒNo,Ó I said.
ÒIt feels really good against my body. DonÕt let me keep you from
enjoying it if you wish to. ItÕs washable,Ó she said, gazing at my prick. It
had pushed its way from my robe again and was standing free in the air.
There was a gleam of pre-cum at its tip.
ÒReally?Ó I said to her. ÒYou wouldnÕt mind if I laid naked on your
bed? It would be kind of a trip. This fur is really nice.Ó
ÒOh, please do,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒIÕm going to go back downstairs
and watch a movie. IÕm not really sleepy. The coffee is keeping me awake,
I think.Ó She smiled. She sipped her wine. The flames illuminated her
hair, her small pale face, her long white legs stretching free of her
nightshirt. On her feet, sexily, she wore small black booties. I liked the
effect of her leather booties against her bare calves. ÒItÕs one a.m., Ted,Ó
she told me. ÒI just wanted to let you know that. If you think you need to
be home IÕll be happy to take you.Ó
ÒNo,Ó I said. I sat up and pulled off my bath robe, as if to ensure she
wouldnÕt take me home. Her eyes widened as she saw my nude body. I
looked powerful; all that football practise had broadened my shoulders and
developed my chest, while flattening away my childÕs belly. I lay down
and flexed my thighs. My dick stuck up like a cockÕs neck looking for
sunrise. I tossed the bath robe off the bed, onto a nearby bureau, so as to
ensure I wouldnÕt be troubled by it again. It felt really good to lie there
naked and hard, with Miss Wood gazing at me.
ÒTed,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒYes, Mistress?Ó I asked. She smiled.
ÒYouÕre teasing me again,Ó she said.
ÒNo IÕm not,Ó I told her.
ÒIÕm going to take you seriously one of these times and then youÕll
wish you were,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒAs your Sports Advisor IÕd like to suggest that you take a little
ride,Ó I said.
ÒTed, thatÕs offensive!Ó Miss Wood said. She furrowed her brow and
looked at my dick.
ÒSorry,Ó I said.
ÒIf youÕre going to insist on harassing me with that IÕm going to have
to take disciplinary action,Ó Miss Wood said.
Her words startled me. I had been hoping merely to induce her to
fuck me. But now, lying there, seeing the gleam of the fire in her eyes, I
wondered what she meant. A wave of curiosity possessed me and I said,
ÒPlease, Miss Wood. Do whatever you think is necessary.Ó
ÒReally, Ted?Ó she asked me.
ÒYes,Ó I said. ÒIf you think IÕm, like, you know, harassing you, maybe
itÕs just that I need some training.Ó
ÒOh. Alright,Ó Miss Wood told me. A devilish grin appeared on her
face. She walked over to the bed. She stood there looking at my dick, and
finished her wine. Then, in a soft voice, almost like a child asking
permission, she said, ÒTed? May I tie you up? I would like to see what
you look like lying there on my bed like that, with your arms and legs
bound.Ó
I nearly spurted into the air. IÕd never heard of such things before,
except vaguely. I looked at her, at her soft features, at the gold of the
hair tumbling loosely around her face, and said, ÒIf you want to, Miss
Wood.Ó
ÒIÕll try not to do it too tightly,Ó Miss Wood said.
ÒNo, go ahead,Ó I answered. I gave her my empty wine glass. I let
my head settle upon the lump of her pillow, hidden beneath the bedcover. I
savored the feel of the fuzzy bearskin against my back. ÒGo ahead and tie
me,Ó I said.
ÒMay I blindfold you too?Ó Miss Wood asked me.
ÒSure, I guess,Ó I said. Nervously I looked at my dick.
ÒTry not to get too excited,Ó Miss Wood warned me. She looked
apprehensively at my penis and then went to her bureau and opened a
drawer. After pulling out some panties and bras and piling them on top of
the bureau, next to the wine bottle, she found some ropes. They were
white. She walked over to me with them. They hung down between the
fingers of her small hands, looking rather like snakes, wiggling as she
walked. She plopped them on the bed.
ÒPlease spread your legs,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒAnd lift your arms
above your head.Ó She drew one rope from among the rest. ÒNow relax,Ó
she said. ÒI wonÕt make them any tighter than I have to.Ó
I lay with my arms snugly bound to the bedposts. My ankles were
bound too, wide apart so that my testicals were competely vulnerable. My
balls lolled on the fuzzy bearskin. Miss Wood touched them and said,
ÒOh. I didnÕt know they were so full.Ó She ran a finger up the length
of my penis. ÒTch. You are still so hard, Ted. May I try to bring you down a
little?Ó
ÒSure,Ó I croaked. And thatÕs all my voice was, a barely audible
croak, for instead of blindfolding me, Miss Wood had used the black cloth
blindfold to gag me. I stared down at my penis. It throbbed in the air,
still waiting for a flag. Miss Wood went to her underwear drawer. She
returned holding something IÕd only seen in the context of horses before.
It was a riding crop. I gazed at its long, hard length. It was quite slim,
unlike my cock, but Miss Wood touched it to my dick and smiled.
ÒYou are both so hard,Ó she said. Then she drew back the crop a
little and brought it swiftly against my penis.
ÒOW!Ó I yelled, the gag drowning my cry.
ÒOh. Did I hurt you, Ted?Ó Miss Wood asked me. ÒPlease relax and
try to be as comfortable as possible. I just want to see if I can get this
penis of yours to diminish a bit. You have so much blood pumped it it. IÕm
amazed thereÕs any left for the rest of you!Ó
She hit me again. I groaned. My dick wobbled like a thick palm tree,
buffeted by a storm. Again she hit me. And again. Each blow landed
somewhere on my penis; nowhere else. There was a gleam in her eyes and
she looked like a girl whoÕd just found a new toy.
WHIP! WHIP! WHIP! The blows came one after another. My dick grew
red and hot. Burny marks were left on my skin where the whip had struck
me. I wrestled against my bonds a little, beginning to tire of this game,
but still Miss Wood kept up the attack. Finally I looked at her with
pleading in my eyes and gasped out several syllables of sound.
ÒWhat, Ted dear?Ó Miss Wood asked me. She took her eyes off my
penis and stared into my face. ÒYouÕre not about to spurt all over my
bedspread are you? Do you want to go home now?Ó
I shook my head ÔnoÕ. Obviously I didnÕt want to go home, not with
my prick on the point of bursting. Each blow of the whip had sent tremors
down to my balls. Now I HAD to cum. I was very excited. There was only
a question of when at this point, not of whether. I looked at her with the
eyes of a begger and hoped sheÕd decide to mount me and finish me off.
ÒOh, perhaps I should get some cream for it,Ó Miss Wood said. I tried
to tell her not to, to get on the fucking bed instead, but she laid her riding
crop on my chest and went to her bureau. She rummaged in her underwear
some more and took out a squirt tube. She walked over to me. She climbed
the steps this time, getting up on the bed, and knelt down beside my hips.
ÒIÕll put a litte of this on and maybe that will allow your thing to
relax,Ó Miss Wood said.
She uncapped the squirt tube. I read the lettering on the side.
ÒMidnight Fire,Ó it said. My eyes widened. IÕd heard of that. WasnÕt that
the stuff you put on your dick to make it hot? Mine was already hot-- too
hot, in fact. I gurgled some incoherent words behind my gag as I watched
Miss Wood squirt the gel from the tube onto the tip of my dick. She put it
right on my pee hole. I bucked on the bed.
ÒSettle down, Ted,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒI canÕt help you if you
wiggle around like that.Ó
Carefully Miss wood stroked my penis. She spread the gel all over
my dick. I was gleaming with the stuff by the time Miss Wood began to
notice that the tips of her fingers were burning.
ÒOooh,Ó she said. ÒWhy are my hands so hot?Ó She looked at her
hands, then at the squirt tube. ÒOh my God!Ó she said. ÒThis is what I used
to put on Bobby when he was cold from working out back, in the snow. IÕm
sorry, Ted!Ó
Then she smiled. She had known all along what it was. ÒAre you
enjoying yourself, Ted?Ó she asked me. ÒYou look so comfortable lying
there, and yet how pained your poor penis must be, with crop marks all
over it and now with Midnight Fire burning your skin.Ó She looked at her
hands again. ÒIÕm sorry. This stuff is really hot. I must go wash my
hands. But in the meantime you can think about little Kristin, and how
rude you were to squirt her with cleaning fluid.Ó
Miss Wood got down from the bed. I was shocked-- to think sheÕd set
me up like that, promising to help me and then sabotoging my dick like
that! As she dismounted from the bed she looked again in my face and
said, ÒIÕm not truly cruel, Ted. I didnÕt smear any on your balls, did I?Ó
Miss Wood was gone for several minutes. When she finally returned,
coming out of her bathroom, I saw she had a cap on her head. It was black.
It had a chain strung across its front, above the bill, that matched the
chain wrapped around the collar at her throat. Her nightshirt was gone. In
place of it she now had attached, to the collar, a small bra. It was a
Òshelf braÓ, with open cups. It did what the name implied; it lifted and
displayed her breasts, while leaving the tit flesh and nipples freely
exposed. She had nice high breasts even without the bra on and I was
shocked to see how lewd she looked, with her breasts ruthlessly pushed up
by her bra and forced to offer themselves so completely to my eyes. In her
hands, which were now gloved in black leather, I saw she carried two
small clips.
ÒHello Ted,Ó Miss Wood said, sashaying across the room. She still
wore her small black cloth panties and her leather booties. She showed
me the clips dangling from her fingers and said, ÒHave you ever had your
nipples restrained before? I think IÕd like to try that. Perhaps if I apply a
little pain to your chest it will cause your penis to relax.Ó
ÒN- No,Ó I gasped. But it was no use. She bent over me, not climbing
on the bed this time, but enjoying, apparently, the feel of the fuzzy
bearskin against her tits as she clamped me. I winced with pain as her
own nipples, freely displayed, browsed in the fur of the bearskin. When
she was done she stood upright and put her hands on her hips.
ÒThere,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒBut I see your penis is still sticking
up. Hmmm.Ó She put a finger to her lips and thought for a moment. Then,
with the fire warming her bottom, which caused her to briefly reach back
and touch her behind with her gloved hands, she said, ÒThatÕs it! ItÕs more
heat that you need!Ó
ÒNo!Ó I gasped. My cry went unheard. Miss Wood went to her
underwear drawer again and dug around in it. She drew forth a small wire
mesh. She walked over to me. Her eyes were beaming. She grinned at me
and then, bending again over the bed, so that her lovely nipples were
aroused by close contact with the bedspread, she placed the wire mesh
against my dick.
Carefully Miss Wood wrapped the wire around me. I felt like my dick
was being wrapped up in chicken coop wire. This wire was similar in
shape and consistency but it had a soft feel to it, for each strand of wire
had been heavily gold-plated, giving the wire a soft, albeit metallic, feel.
As for the spaces left between the interlacing wires, they were much
smaller than on chicken coop wire. But the effect of feeling that wire
wrapped around my dick was thrilling, if quite scary. There I was, my
organ standing up proud and tall, and now Miss Wood had deigned to give
me a coat of arms, made of gold! I nearly spurted with pride at being so
honored. If the gold wire wasnÕt Miss WoodÕs most expensive asset, it
certainly wasnÕt her cheapest. This was no plastic bauble. She had gone
to quite an expense to have this ready for a man she loved. When the wire
had been bent around my penis she stepped back and looked at my genitals.
ÒYes,Ó she said. ÒThat should do it. One way or another, youÕll learn
to relax now.Ó
Miss Wood went back to her underwear drawer. She returned with a
small box. It was made of metal. It looked like a box that children use to
power their toy electric trains. She lifted a single wire that dangled from
the side of the box and clipped it to the wire mesh around my penis. Then,
giving me another smile, she gently turned a knob on top of the box.
ÒYEEEEEOUCH!Ó I cried. My yell reverberated around the room,
despite the gag across my mouth.
ÒOh, Ted!Ó Miss Wood scolded me. ÒItÕs just a small shock. I used to
give Bobby much more. Try to relax and, whatever you do, donÕt spurt
yourself all over my bedspread.Ó
Miss Wood gave me another shock. The second, applied at the same
voltage, wasnÕt so bad, for I was now just a little bit used to it. Then she
turned off the current, waited for me to recover, and gave me a third.
ÒOh, God,Ó I panted, behind my gag. I bucked my hips. I flexed my
knees. I swelled my chest, filling it with air, then exhaling rapidly as
another shock coursed the length of my dick.
ÒWeÕll just do this for awhile and see if it helps,Ó Miss Wood told
me. ÒOtherwise, IÕll have to resort to something else.Ó
Miss Wood tortured me for several more minutes. Of course, the
shocks did nothing to lessen the size of my dick. Had they caused me to
orgasm I might have ÔrelaxedÕ, but of course I was scared to death of
spurting my sticky jism all over her bedspread. It was bad enough I was
leaking pre-cum onto it. Finally she set the box down on the bedspread and
went back to the bureau, where the wine and her underwear were.
Reaching down into a lower drawer, she pulled out a plastic sheet. She
unfolded it.
ÒIÕm going to place this under your hips, Ted,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒI
have one final thing I can try to help you relax, but it could get a little
messy.Ó
Miss Wood made me lift my hips. She slid the plastic under my ass.
I settled onto it, relishing the contrast between the cool plastic and the
warm fuzzy bedspread. Then, as I lay cooling my bottom, which
fortunately had escaped her ÔhelpÕ so far, Miss Wood got an bag and some
tubing out of her bureau drawer.
ÒThis is an enema bag, Ted,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒBut donÕt worry.
IÕm not putting this cath up your ass. IÕm sticking it in your pee hole.Ó
I groaned my displeasure. She ignored me. Working with the prim
efficiency of a nurse, she greased the tip of the cath with her gloved
hands. Then, with the wire mesh still wrapped around my dick, she slid
the cath into my urethral opening, at the head of my dick.
Ah, God, how horrible it felt to to have that cath slide up within my
dick! Then, worse, I lost control of myself. The end of the cath pierced
my bladder. At once my bladder emptied itself down the tube. How awful
I felt as I watched my urine spouting from the end of my dick and running
down the inside of that catheter! It was a clear tube; you could see all of
me running down inside it, to accumulate in the bag. Miss Wood watched
with interest. Then she smiled at me and said,
ÒVery good, Ted. I expected you to ejaculate, but you only lost your
pee.Ó
Miss Wood reached up between her breasts. She unsnapped her bra.
Her breasts sprang out away from the open cups and hung heavy and free. I
thought she would remove her bra, but instead she let the cups dangle
loosely, hanging along the sides of her body. Then, with her unsnapped bra
cups wiggling as she walked, she went to her bureau. Digging around in
the same drawer that had held the cath, she pulled from it a small whisk
brush.
She returned swinging it, the hairs of the brush flying about as her
bra cups jiggled, and her naked bosoms wobbled. She smiled at me again.
ÒNow IÕm going to try to help you relax by flogging your balls,Ó Miss
Wood told me.
ÒNo!Ó I gasped.
ÒJust relax, darling,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒPerhaps a little sensation on
your testicles will help that big penis of yours to go down.Ó
As I watched, Miss Wood began to flog me, and more urine ran down
the catheter.
ÒOW! OW! OW!Ó I cried, my protests mostly drowned by my gag. Miss
Wood touched a finger to the metal box sheÕd left lying on the bed. As my
balls suffered the blows of the small whisk brush, a current of electricity
passed up and down the length of my dick.
ÒMiss Wood!Ó I shouted, feeling myself on the verge of spending. I
hadnÕt wanted it this way; IÕd wanted to serve my boss by giving her a ride
on my hard-on. But now, as she deftly tortured my balls, while giving new
shocks to my wire-wrapped dick, I felt myself unable any longer to hold
back.
Sperm shot from my dick. There was no need to worry about getting
any on the bearskin, for it simply ran down the inside of the catheter.
More sperm shot forth. Again it ran uselessly down the catheter. Miss
Wood smiled.
ÒDid you think you were going to make a mess on my bedspread?Ó she
asked me. She grinned at me with devilish glee. Then, when I was sure
she had no pity at all, and when I was thinking how angry I was to be
forced to lose myself that way, she bent down, very close, and extruded
her tongue.
Ah, how cool it felt, touching my still-pumping testicles! Gently she
kissed my balls as I jismed out the rest of my load. When I was finished
she stopped licking my balls and looked up at my face, lying red and
exhausted at the head of her bed.
ÒYou did very well, Ted,Ó she said. ÒIÕm quite amazed. You survived
everything I could give you, until the last moment, of course, when I gave
it to you in spades. IÕll get all this stuff off you and let you sleep. Look--
your penis is finally relaxing!Ó
Miss Wood bent and tongued my balls again. Then she carefully drew
out the catheter and unwrapped my dick from the wire. After this she got
a bowl of warm water and gently bathed my dick. The exess water
splashed on the plastic my hips rested on.
ÒNow Ted,Ó Miss Wood said, when she finally had gotten my gag off.
ÒTell me. Did you enjoy that?Ó
ÒNo,Ó I said.
ÒTell the truth, Ted,Ó Miss Wood said. I looked in her eyes. I could
see by the delight in them that she really thought she had pleased me, in
some perverse way. Unfortunately I was a virgin (even now!) and I had not
even known such bizzare possiblities existed. Nonetheless, reaching down
and feeling my dick to make sure it was still there, I croaked out a ÒyesÓ.
ÒVery good, Ted,Ó Miss Wood told me. ÒIn the morning IÕll have a go
at your ass.Ó
And that is how I spent that summer, in the confines of Miss WoodÕs
bedroom, rarely going home, except to check in with my mom and dad, who
assumed I was working hard at my job. Well, I was working alright, and I
did learn a little shorthand in the process, but mainly that summer I
worked on using my dick, learning how to please a woman with it, and how
to endure her most creative tortures.
THE END
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
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-END OF story EMISSION