R@nd0mH0e

“I’m so sorry,” she rushed out, further embarrassed when she realised just how much water she and her umbrella were dripping onto the carpeted floor. “There was- the rain made it impossible to get in and I would’ve called but-”

Sam said her name, voice quiet for the sake of the people sat waiting but no less stern. His fingers wrapped around her elbow and effectively cut her off as he led her the short distance down the hallway to his office. Only once they were in with the door shut did he speak.

“You’re an hour late.”

“I know, I know I’m-”

He held up a hand, silenced her again. Looking up at him she could see the scrunch in his brows, the set of his jaw. He wasn’t happy. “You have the Hammett family files on you.”

“Yes,” she breathed, and tucked her umbrella underneath an elbow so that she could open her bag. “I have it right here-”

“Stop,” the irritated twinge in his voice made something in her gut clench, not in the pleased tingly way it usually did when he spoke to her, but in a guilty embarrassed way that made her feel so much smaller. “There’s no point now, I needed them first thing. Mr. Hammett needed them when he was here. An hour ago,” his jaw clenched tighter, her stomach dropped deeper. “I had no choice but to reschedule with him, which we really don’t have time for this close to his trial.”

Her hand stilled, fingers brushing against the papers he was talking about, and her chest tightened. The irritation was clear on his face, and she didn’t like it one bit.

Aside from the mind blowing sex, it was the praise that she maybe enjoyed most about their contract, however selfish that may be. She went from only getting loved on whenever she spoke to family, to praises every time she was with Sam. A good girl murmured into the shell of her ear, that’s it, so good for me, you’re doing so well, so good, good, good, good. It gave her just as much as a high as his touch did.

So his disappointment, his irritation with her, it pressed nastily against her ribs and made her feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually found her voice. “I’m so sorry, sir-”

“It doesn’t matter now. We’ll talk later.”

“But-”

“Later,” his voice sharpened. Not shouting, she’d never heard him shout once, just firm enough to shut her up. “I have things to do, and so do you. Go to your desk.”

For a moment she debated on pushing back, grovelling maybe, but he was right, it was a busy day and they were both already behind because of her. So she nodded, silently pulled the files out from her bag, handed them to him, and left his office whilst desperately trying to swallow around the lump in her throat.

Disappointed, her brain screamed as she got settled at her desk and started signing into her computer. He’s disappointed.

Though she got stuck into her work easily, determined for the rest of the day to go as smoothly as possible, she had a stress headache by ten o’clock and had to stop to take painkillers by eleven. Whenever Sam’s office door opened, whether he was simply letting a client out or actually leaving, she couldn’t help but look up almost desperately. Maybe he’d see that she was getting on with her responsibilities and feel better for that morning.

Because the more she thought on it, the more she knew what later implied. When nobody else was in their office was their time, and she was a little accustomed to his punishments by now. Familiar with being bent over his desk and spanked until the skin of her ass was hot and tingly.

But he never met her eyes, not once.

She decided to just work through her lunch break because she was behind on emails — plus in the rush of that morning she’d also forgotten her lunch — and managed to get herself caught up by the time her lunch break was mostly over. Sam’s office door opened and she glanced up, surprised to see him walking towards her desk. Wordlessly he placed a store bought salad pot on her desk, wooden fork taped to the lid. That was his lunch.

She just blinked at him until he sighed and slid it closer to her. “You need to eat.”

“I’m catching up on emails,” she told him. “And I can’t take that it’s yours.”

“I’m going out to meet a client for lunch.”

“But sir-”

He said her name in that stern tone like before and shut her up. “Don’t make me tell you twice,” he must’ve seen something on her face, the flicker of hesitance or guilt, and she watched as his expression softened just slightly. “You still need a break. Please, eat.”

Slowly she reached over and took the pot of salad, placed it in front of her keyboard. “Thank you.”

Sam nodded, and once she’d peeled back the film lid he turned and went back into his office.

The rest of the day passed at least slightly easier. It was a little embarrassing how that one moment of gentleness from him helped settle her gut, though she was sure part of that was also the food, and calmed her enough to work through the rest of the day without a headache. Sam came back from his lunch around four o’clock, and by the time five rolled around, his last client was just finishing up. She watched nervously over the top of her desktop screen as Sam shook his hand and said goodbye, and only once the elevator doors opened and said client stepped inside did Sam's eyes land on her.

“In my office, please.”

She took in a deep breath and stood, rounding her desk and walking into his office. Sam had stayed by the door so she got a good look at his face as she walked in, and he at least looked calmer than earlier. Whether that was because he was actually calmer or just tired from a long day she wasn’t sure, but she was willing to take it.

Once he’d shut the door he gestured over to his desk. “Sit down.”

She blinked at him and couldn’t help but blurt out, “you aren’t punishing me?”

His lips twitched, amused, and she’d rather that than his irritation tenfold. “I want to talk to you first, alright?”

Satisfied with that answer she nodded and moved to sit in the chair in front of his desk, whilst he rounded it and sat in his seat. “What happened this morning?”

She sighed and clenched her hands together in her lap. “The rain this morning delayed my journey, that’s why I was late.”

Sam frowned, his own hands clasped together on top of his desk, leant forwards to listen. If there was one thing she appreciated about Sam it was that he did listen, he listened to everything. In the first couple of weeks of their contract, if she so much as made a noise that didn’t sound pleased whilst they were having sex he stopped to ask if she needed to stop. Now at least he trusted her to know that the safe word was there if she needed it.

“You should have called me.”

She frowned. “I couldn’t, I left my phone at home.”

“Why didn’t you drive back and get it?”

Her frown dropped and she blinked at him. “I don’t drive in. I take the train to and from work,” she sighed then and shook her head. “Well I’m gonna have to walk back since I spent this evening's fare getting my second train this morning, but yeah, I don’t drive.”

Sam was frowning now. “I’ll get you a cab home. From now on I’ll pay for your travel, okay? I had no idea you were commuting, that must be expensive.”

Her mouth dropped open. It was twenty minutes on the train to and from work every day, she couldn’t imagine how much a taxi would cost, how much it would cost him every day. “Sir I can’t ask you to-”

“You aren’t asking, I’m telling you. Do I need to buy you another phone too?”

She instantly shook her head. “No, no, I’m sorry, I was just so frazzled this morning that I forgot it, I swear I won’t do that again.”

“Okay,” Sam relented, and stood up. “I believe you.”

As he stood behind his desk, shrugged off his blazer and started rolling up his sleeves, her gaze drifted behind him to his bookshelves, to the two people photographed and framed on two of the shelves. She’d never seen either of them before, the man or the woman, so she had to assume his family didn’t live close.

Sam rounded the desk and stopped in front of her. “I’m not punishing you because you were late,” he told her, a hand lifting to tip her chin up. “I’m punishing you because communication is important, okay? In and out of work or sex, it’s still important. You couldn't help being late. But if I knew then this morning could’ve ran a little smoother,” his thumb stroked along the bone of her jaw and she tried not to shudder. “Do you understand why I’m about to punish you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Stand up and sit on the desk.”

Only once she’d stood did she pause and turn to face him, realising what he’d just said. “Sit on it?”

His brow furrowed. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no no,” she hurried out. “I just thought you’d…”

“Thought I’d what?”

She felt her face warm. “I thought you’d, um, spank me.”

He smirked then, though shook his head. “No. I have a different punishment in mind for you, sweetheart,” he gestured back to the desk then. “Come on. Up.”

She pushed herself up to sit on his desk, feet dangling above the floor as she looked up at him. His expression had shifted, that darker gaze, that arousal, it all made her belly clench in something closer to excitement, so far from the guilt she’d been feeling that morning.

Sam spread her thighs with his hands and wasted no time in moving one up under her skirt. The pads of his fingers found her panties and pressed up against her, rubbing her mound. “Oh honey, are you already wet?” He cooed, movements far too slow to talk to her like that. “If today had gone differently I’d be fucking you right now, sweetheart.”

His words had the effect she supposed he was going for. She did wish he was fucking her, her pulse jumped at the thought, then the annoyance of knowing she wasn’t going to get it bled through. She’d rarely ever known Sam to change his mind, it wasn’t going to happen.

His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her panties and pressed against her clit, dragging a shuddery sigh out of her throat as her fingers tightened around the edge of his desk.

“Does that feel good?” He murmured, and for a moment she thought that he was going to lean in and kiss her, though she barely felt the warmth of his breath on her face before he leaned down to kiss at her neck instead.

“Yes,” she breathed, gasping in pleasure as his teeth dragged against her throat. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

The praise hummed under her skin like magic and she finally moaned as his fingers pressed just right against her clit. She felt herself getting wetter in her panties, cunt clenching around nothing, whimpering when she realised this was her punishment. Having to get off without him inside of her.

“Doll,” he murmured against her throat, another sweep of his fingers making her moan. “What are you going to do for me?”

She blinked a few times, a little dizzy and a lot confused by the question. “What?”

“What we just talked about,” he nipped at her throat, making her jump. “What are you going to make sure you do for me from now on?”

“I’m- ah-” she hissed in a breath as his circles on her clit grew firmer, faster. “Keep in- in contact with you, sir.”

“There’s my girl,” he leaned back from her throat and his free hand lifted up, long fingers pressed beneath her jaw to keep her head tilted up, forced to look at him. “Are you getting close?”

“Yeah.” She whimpered, a little pitiful, because he really hadn’t been touching her all that long, but then again she’d been desperate for him hadn’t she?

“You look so fucking pretty when you’re about to cum,” Sam murmured, dark eyes locked onto her. His lips quirked up then, and just as she started panting, a soft ah ah ah moaning from her mouth, his hand pulled out of her panties. “Too bad you aren’t going to.”

She couldn’t help but breathe out in frustration, pussy still pulsing desperately, clit throbbing, fuck she’d been so close. “What?”

“What?” He repeated back to her. “You didn’t think I was actually going to let you cum, did you?”

Oh. The lack of penetration wasn’t her punishment at all, it was much worse than that. He wasn’t letting her cum at all.

“It’s not nice, is it? Needing something and not being able to have it,” he stroked her jaw and she breathed out sharply. “You’ll have to figure it out yourself like I had to this morning, won’t you doll?” He squeezed her jaw.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Good,” Sam murmured. “You can get yourself off when you get home.”

He let go of her jaw then, and she closed her legs, catching her breath. “I really am sorry,”

“Stop,” he told her softly, any of the arousal from before gone. “You’ve taken your punishment, you don’t need to apologise anymore, sweetheart,” his hand moved to her thigh though that time he squeezed the skin there comfortingly. “Just don’t do it again, alright? What if something had happened to you this morning? You wouldn’t have had your phone to call anybody.”

She nodded slowly. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good,” he let go of her and walked around his desk, picking up the receiver of his phone. “Go and get your things, alright? I’ll call your cab.”

She got off of the desk, and though she was still unbelievably horny — panties utterly soaked through and clit throbbing, the fact that she was supposed to wait until she was home to finally find some sort of release really was a terribly clever punishment — the guilt had completely disappeared from her stomach, from her chest.

Good girl, he’d called her.

From then on she’d really try to keep it that way.

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She got to her feet and tucked her chair back under her desk, smoothed her skirt out as she rounded her little corner and went over to the door. Two knocks against the door, then she stepped inside when she heard him calling her.

Sam was sat behind his desk, laptop open, papers and books piled neatly at the side of his desk that he’d been using all afternoon.

Some days went by and she barely saw him, spare once in the morning and once in the evening when he came back after court. Other days, he spent all day there. Those days she liked best.

“Shut the door, please,” he didn’t look up from his computer until the door had already clicked shut, room quiet spare the tap tapping of his keyboard. When he did finally look up, his eyes took a sweep over her before they eventually landed on her eyes. “Have you finished all of your work for today?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded.

“Good. Come here.”

Her heels scuffed against the carpeted floor of his office as she walked over to him, hesitating at the side of his desk as he shut the lid of his laptop. Behind him were bookshelves filled with expensive looking books she rarely saw touched. The wall was lined with framed certificates like Postgraduate Diploma in Law, Samuel W. Winchester. There was a framed picture of a woman on the bookcase, as well as another man, family she presumed. Everything was so neat, so organised, even the stack of papers on his desk was tidy.

Sam sighed, fingers popping the buttons of his cuffs so he could roll up his sleeves. To anybody else it would’ve looked so casual, just a long day behind him.

She wasn’t anybody else.

“I said here.”

His voice had deepened just a smidge and had her stomach clenching as she rounded the desk to be stood in front of him. All muscle and long legs in the suits he wore every day, she couldn’t help but just stare.

Sam’s foot pressed to the floor to spin his chair to face her. Long legs were spread enough to leave room between them for her as his hands came up to hold her hips, tugging her forwards until her shin was pressed to the lip of his chair, his thighs pressed to hers.

“Don’t be so shy,” he murmured, hands skimming up from her hips to her waist, where he cupped her ribs just under the curve of her breasts. “You look so pretty today, have I told you that?”

She breathed around the bubbling arousal in her gut. “No.”

His eyes lifted. “No?”

“No, sir.” She quickly corrected, flushing.

It was one of his rules, the addressing. One of many rules, actually. When they’d started this… arrangement, he’d made her sign an actual contract before he’d even touched her. Okays, limits, safe words, responsibilities, and rules. The dress code, the titles, the unwavering trust she had to have in him otherwise this just wouldn’t work. He told her to jump, she asked how high, so on and so forth. It had only been a month since she’d scribbled her signature at the bottom of the contract that she knew he kept in the third drawer down on his desk, locked away with other more important documents. They hadn’t gone too far, not really. She stayed professional during the work day, came when he called, and so far they’d only played in the confinements of his office. She’d cum more bent over his desk or in his lap more than she had in her own bed. Sometimes it felt embarrassing, mostly it felt thrilling.

“Hm,” a large hand lifted to cup the side of her face, and Sam’s thumb pressed into her jaw, tilted her head down towards him. “I guess I’ll have to make that up to you, won’t I?”

“Yes, sir.” She breathed, an aroused twinge in her gut.

His eyes seemed to have darkened as his free hand slid downwards, between her thighs. His fingers that disappeared beneath the fabric of her skirt were warm, against the skin of her legs, then against her pussy where he cupped her through her panties. Her breathing hitched and her fingers curled into her hands at her sides — she never touched him without permission, she never did anything without his permission. It was just how this worked.

“Hold onto my shoulders,” Sam murmured, as his thumb found the bead of her clit, circling with a horrible pressure that made her legs feel like jelly.

Her hands landed on his shoulders, fingers gripped tight as he touched her. Pleasure shot up her belly and she whimpered, shifting on her feet. “Sir,” she breathed, squeezed her eyes shut as he pressed a little harder and more dizzying between her legs. “Do you- mmh- do you want me to sit on the desk?” It was where he usually put her, when she wasn’t in his lap.

“No,” he murmured. “You can stay standing for me. And open your eyes.”

Her eyes snapped open to see him lean closer, his mouth warm against her throat where he started kissing and licking. If there was one thing about Sam it was that he was careful. He never left marks where other people could see, they were for his eyes only. Above the collar his kisses were gentle and wet.

His fingers had dipped beneath the fabric of her panties and she moaned as a finger slipped into her slick heat, stroking against her walls in a way that made her ripple with pleasure.

“Unbutton your blouse,” he murmured against her throat. “and tell me how that feels.”

Her left hand gripped tighter to his shoulder to compensate as her right left, trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons one by one. “Good,” she breathed, moaning as a second long finger slid in beside the first, stroking at her front wall. “Fuck- fuck, so good.”

“Yeah?” His kisses travelled down down down until his lips were dancing over the dip of her cleavage, licking at the soft flesh of her breasts that weren’t covered by her bra. A set that Sam had said he liked two weeks ago, that she put on more frequently than others. She hadn’t even owned much nice underwear until this started, since then she’d prioritised buying some when she could. After Sam had fucked her with her most embarrassing day-of-the-week underwear on — to make it worse she was wearing tuesday on a friday — she’d not let herself get in that situation again.

His fingers stroked forwards and pressed against that spot and she moaned, head falling forwards to rest against the top of his, willing to be able to sit back onto the desk but wanting more than anything to impress him, to do as he said.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, voice sickly sweet, murmured against her collarbone where he’d been sucking a mark into her skin. “You’re getting close, aren’t you? Don’t you have something to ask me?”

She whimpered, fingers screwing into his shirt as her legs started trembling. “Please.” She whispered.

His tongue clicked as he sat back, green eyes meeting hers. “You can do better than that.”

“Please- ah- please can I cum-”

The look on his face could only be described as satisfied. Sam’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, drinking her in as she trembled and moaned in front of him. Just two fingers had so much power over her. Nobody had ever known her body as well as he did, and she wasn’t sure anybody ever would.

“Please can I cum, what?”

“Please can I cum sir?” She whined, desperation laced in every word, between every letter. Her pussy had started to pulse deliciously around his fingers, it wasn’t long until she had no control over her orgasm, and she’d cum without permission before, she knew how sore her ass would be on her commute home if she did.

Sam’s thumb found her clit as he continued fucking up into her with his fingers, and he nodded. “Go ahead, sweetheart. You’ve earned it.”

It only took two more curls of his fingers for it all to crest and she whined, gripping his shoulders for dear life as her cunt rippled and her stomach clenched, stealing breath from her lungs. He kept fingering her until she'd ridden it out, twitchy and whiny with his fingers in her overstimulated pussy. She was panting as he pulled out, and watched as he lifted his hand out from under her skirt. Her cum was stringing from one finger to the other as he held his hand out in front of her with one simple instruction, “Suck.”

Gladly she took his fingers into her mouth, moaning around them at the familiar taste, her taste, and didn’t think much as he stood from his chair, free hand pressed to her waist to guide her back until she could have the relief of leaning against his desk.

He didn’t pull his fingers out of her mouth until she’d caught her breath, and by that point it was like a switch had flipped inside of him. She was handed two tissues and a bottle of water from beneath his desk, opened before it was pressed into her hands. As she sipped the water he stepped closer once more, his fingers — now wiped clean with a third tissue he’d used for himself — buttoning up her blouse and tucking it back into her skirt.

“Are you alright?” Sam’s voice had softened, as had his eyes.

She nodded as she finished drinking, bottle placed behind her on his desk. “Yes, sir,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

His eyes flickered over her face before he leaned down, and his mouth was pressed against hers. Slow, lazy, his tongue licked at her lips but never pressed further, kissing just to kiss. She moaned against his mouth regardless, brain a little floaty and not thinking much as her hand reached for his belt. “Do you want me to-”

“No,” his fingers closed around her wrist and pushed her hand away. “You’re done for today, honey.”

She frowned, unable to help it. “But you didn’t even get to cum, are you sure?”

“I said no,” though his words were tinged with that dominance he lifted her hand up and kissed her fingers. “I’m alright. I just wanted to touch you today,” as quickly as he’d taken her hand he let it go, stepped away completely, instead turning to gather his papers and books. “Are you going to be alright getting home?”

She nodded a little dumbly. This was the part she never liked. Sam was always so quick to finish up and get it over with, whereas she’d have happily spent hours in his office, pleasing him and being pleased by him.

“Good. You’re done for the day, thank you for your help,” when she didn’t move he looked up at her, and for a moment she thought he might come over and kiss her again. He didn’t. “You were a good girl for me.”

That was enough. Her brain buzzed happily with the praise, unable to help her bashful smile as she finally pushed off of the desk. Her legs were still a little shaky but nothing she couldn’t manage. “Thank you, sir.”

She left him to finish up his own work, gathering her things from her desk and making her way out. On the train ride home, squished in her seat between other passengers, earbuds drowning all the noise out, she thought of the way his fingers had felt pressed inside of her, his lips on her skin, voice in her ear. She felt herself getting wet at just the thought of him, and it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d had to go home and touch herself to the memory of what had transpired that day. Nor would it be the last.

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