"Get down on your knees and beg," she said. And she sounded serious. I laughed again, only not so honestly this time, and got to my knees. "I beg you to have dinner with me," I said as seriously as I could.
I remember what she did next so well that it's like a part of me. She was holding a cup of coffee in her hands while all this was going on, and after I asked her to dinner and before she answered, she deliberately spilled some of the coffee out of the cup and on the floor, right in front of me.
"Lick up that coffee, Paul," she said in this very soft, quiet tone, "and then I'll agree to go to dinner with you."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth I felt a lurch in my guts. And my cock instantly got hard as hell. I was amazed. That was the first involuntary hard on I'd had in a long time.
I looked up at her and started to grin. I wasn't about to do what she wanted without protecting myself by making a joke of it.
"I'm not kidding you, Paul. Lick it up!" Her soft, quiet tone was gone.
My heart was beating so hard I could hear it as I bent over and ran my tongue into the coffee on the floor.
"All of it," she said. "Every last drop."
I did what she told me. I got every last drop. Then I knelt back up and looked at her.
"We'll have dinner at my house," she said. "Be there at seven-thirty." And with that she turned and left my office.
I moved to my chair and sat there dazed. What in the hell had that all been about, I asked myself. My cock was still raging hard. And then, like some horny kid, I pulled my cock out – right in my office – and beat off until I shot. Weird, huh?
All day long I told myself there was no way I was going to go to Clarissa's house for dinner. No telling what she'd make me do. But do you know, at seven-thirty that night I was standing outside her front door.
I checked my watch and exactly at seven thirty I rang the bell. She answered it almost instantly. "That's good," she said… "I like people who are right on time."
She didn't say anything else, as she beckoned for me to come into the living room. She pointed to a low stool placed by the fireplace.
"That's for you," she said. I looked strangely at her.
"Sit down," she ordered. I did what she told me, and cursed the fact that again I was getting a hard on.
She stood there, beautifully dressed, and looked hard at me. "I noticed," she said finally, "a certain… should we call it willingness to cooperate. If I'm wrong, you're free to leave anytime."
I looked at her. Never in my life had I wanted to do anything more than I wanted to get out of that house. But I couldn't force myself to move. I sat there and did nothing but nod. And I'm not a weak person. Really I'm not. She just seemed to have me hypnotized.
"Fix me a drink," she said after taking a chair a few feet away from my stool. "Martini. Four to one. Onion." I couldn't help but compare her tone to that of a very sophisticated drill sergeant. But the whole bit wasn't funny. She was serious, and unfortunately so was I.
I felt her staring at me all the while I was fixing her a drink. When I finished, I turned and walked to her, handing her the glass. She took it without a thank you, as though I owed her the service.
"May I have one?" I asked.
"Yes," she said simply. Then added, "It was good that you asked first."
Dinner was surprisingly normal. I was a nervous wreck, always expecting her to tell me to do something. But we finished the whole meal without any intimation of what had gone on before. I suppose it was the presence of the maid that kept things from continuing.
After coffee was served, Clarissa dismissed the maid. Gave her the night off, as a matter of fact. Now I was really getting nervous.
It seemed like only a minute after the maid had gone that the front door opened and a man walked in. About the same age as Clarissa, handsome in sort of a sadistic way.
"This is my husband, Paul," Clarissa said, not getting up. "Charles, this is Paul. A fellow worker."
I stood up and held out my hand to shake. But Charles ignored my hand. He stared at me for a few seconds, and then turned and started to leave the room. At the door he turned. "He'll do," he said, and then was gone.
Clarissa turned to me. "You've passed the test, darling," she said. "Stand up and take your clothes off."
She couldn't have shocked me more if she had screamed out obscenities. I stared at her for an instant or two.
"Do it," she said, her tone harsher this time.
I stood and with head hung, I started to unbuckle my belt.
"Look at me, Paul," Clarissa said. "Never be ashamed of what you're going to do."
With some difficulty, I managed to look into her eyes. There was no indication of disdain or disgust in them. Not even a hint of humor. She was simply telling me what to do, and I was doing it.
I watched her watching me all the while I was taking off my clothes. Then, when I was down to bare skin, I let my arms hang at my side, waiting for what she wanted me to do next.
"You have a very nice body," she said. I glanced down at myself. It was a good body. It got that way through a lot of effort.
"And you have a fine prick," she added. That shocked me. She said it without any indication that what she was saying was out of the ordinary. She said it like most women would say, "It's a fine day."
My cock was hard as a rock. Literally, it was jutting up, almost touching my belly. I was totally and exhaustively excited. I wanted things to happen. But the slowness with which they were occurring only added to my excitement.
"Come over here and kneel down," she said. I did what she told me, kneeling down directly in front of her.
"When you must go to the bathroom, tell me," she said. I looked quickly at her. The statement confused me. It seemed so much out of context. And it made me feel very young, and very dependent.
"Yes," I answered.
"We have to get something absolutely clear," Clarissa said. "When you agree with something your employer says, you say, 'Yes, sir,' don't you, Paul?"
I nodded.
"My husband will expect the same courtesy," she continued. "And so will I."
"Yes, ma'am," I said, and was amazed at how naturally it came to me. How natural it sounded. She got up then, stepping around me to go to a large bureau that was standing in the corner of the room. When she came back to me, she had a large dog collar in her hand. And a leash chain.
She sat down again and leaned towards me. "I'll put this on," she said, wrapping the collar around my neck, "just to indicate to you what your position is."
To be honest with you, I didn't have the least idea in the world what my position was. But I allowed her to wrap the collar around my neck. And I felt a wave of what I recognized as sexual excitement shiver through my whole body.
When the collar and leash were in position, Clarissa again got up. She moved to the center of the room behind my back. I heard rustling behind me, but I didn't dare turn around without permission.
Then she spoke. Very harshly. "Come over here," she said, "and lick my cunt."
Would you believe me if I told you that at that point I almost shot off? My cock jumped and I felt that tickle deep down in my balls that usually precedes an orgasm. But I controlled it.
When I turned around, Clarissa was naked. Her body was magnificent. Breathtaking. Compared with her, all the other women I had been with were ugly and blighted. Clarissa was absolutely perfect. Not an imperfection anywhere.
I started to get up to move towards her. "Crawl," she said quietly.
When I was in front of her, I looked up at her. I know I had a look on my face that resembled nothing so much as a begging animal. But that's what I was. And that's what was exciting me – along with Clarissa herself.
She stood over me, not in an exaggerated, masculine stance, but completely normal. She was feminine even when she was ordering me.