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.