DOMINANT BY MY BOSS

On your knees

“Not tonight.”

A sob caught in my throat.

His other hand came around, slid two fingers inside me.

Curled.

Found that spot immediately.

My knees buckled.

He held me up with the arm around my waist and the tie still in his grip.

He pumped slowly.

In.

Out.

Thumbing my c**t on every upward stroke.

I was crying openly now.

Hips rocking back against his hand even though I tried to stay still.

“Please.....”

The tie tightened.

Just enough to cut the word off.

“No begging yet,” he whispered against my neck.

“You haven’t earned it.”

He worked me higher.

Faster.

Right to the edge.

My whole body locked.

Toes curling.

Breath stopped.

And then he stopped.

Pulled his fingers free.

Left me clenching on nothing.

Panting.

Shaking.

I almost collapsed.

He caught me.

Turned me around.

Sat me on the edge of the table.

Legs dangling.

Skirt bunched around my waist.

He stepped between my thighs.

Still fully dressed.

Still hard,I could see the thick outline straining against his pants.

He cupped my face.

Wiped my tears with his thumbs.

“Look at me.”

I did.

Eyes blurry.

Chest heaving.

“You did well tonight,” he said softly. Almost tender.

“You took everything I gave. You stayed quiet when I asked. You didn’t try to run.”

I swallowed. Throat raw from the silk and the crying.

“But you don’t get release yet.”

A fresh wave of tears.

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because I want you to feel this tomorrow. Every time you move. Every time you sit. Every time you breathe. I want you to remember who owns this...” his hand cupped between my legs again, possessive, firm “...and who decides when it gets relief.”

I nodded.Broken.He kissed my forehead.

First real kiss he’d ever given me.

Soft.Brief.Then he stepped back.

Adjusted my skirt down.

Buttoned two buttons on my uniform.

Fixed the tie so it hung loose around my neck like a collar.

“Go back to your room.”

I slid off the table on trembling legs.

At the door he spoke again.

“Tomorrow night. Same time Bring nothing.Wear the uniform.No underwear.And Lyla…”

I looked back.

“Edge yourself twice before you come up here.

But don’t come.”

My breath hitched.

“Yes, Master.”

He opened the door.

“Goodnight, little one.”

I walked down the dark stairs.

Body on fire.

Mind blank except for him.

I didn’t sleep that night.

I couldn’t.

Every pulse between my legs reminded me of his fingers.

His voice.

His control.

And tomorrow…

Tomorrow he would push me further.

I was already counting the hours.

*****

The next day was pure torture.

My body wouldn’t let me forget last night.

Every time I walked, the slick ache between my legs reminded me of his fingers,how close he brought me, how suddenly he stopped.

My n*****s stayed hard under the uniform all day, rubbing against the stiff fabric until they were sore.

My throat still felt the ghost of the silk.

I caught myself touching the spot where the tie had been, fingers pressing lightly like I could summon him that way.

I barely ate.

Coffee tasted like ash.

Mia tried to talk to me twice, once in the laundry room, once near the service stairs.

Both times I mumbled excuses and slipped away before she could ask real questions.

Camilla watched me from across the kitchen with worried eyes.

Even Bernstein gave me a longer look when I passed him in the corridor, like he knew something was different.

I couldn’t focus on anything.

Dusting became mechanical.

Polishing silver turned into staring at my own distorted reflection in the spoons,eyes too wide, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from biting them to keep quiet.

And the worst part?

His order.

*Edge yourself twice before you come up here.*

*But don’t come.*

I had to do it.

I knew I had to.

Because if I didn’t… he would know.

Somehow he always knew.

I waited until late afternoon when most of the staff were busy with dinner prep.

Locked myself in one of the unused guest bathrooms on the second floor, small, rarely used, far from the main halls.

I hiked my skirt up, leaned back against the sink, and slid two fingers inside myself.

It was immediate.

Too much.

I was already so sensitive from last night that the first stroke made my knees buckle.

I bit my forearm to stay quiet.

Moved slowly,circling my c**t with my thumb, curling my fingers the way he had.

Right to the edge in under a minute.

My thighs shook.My breath came in short, desperate pants.

I stopped.

Pulled my hand away.

Stared at my reflection, sweaty, trembling, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

I waited two full minutes,counted every second,until the pulsing slowed.

Then I did it again.

Same rhythm.

Same spot.

Faster this time because my body was greedy now, chasing what it couldn’t have.

I got even closer the second time.

Almost tipped over.

Had to press my palm hard against my mouth to muffle the whimper.

When I finally stopped, I was crying quietly.

Legs jelly.

Panties would have been soaked through if I’d been wearing any.

Instead the insides of my thighs were slick and shining.

I cleaned myself up with trembling hands.

Fixed my uniform.

Went back to work like nothing happened.

But everything had happened.

My body was a live wire.

Every brush of fabric, every shift of my hips, sent fresh sparks straight to my core.

By evening I could barely walk straight.

At 10:50 p.m. I took the back stairs again.

No tie this time,just me, the uniform, nothing underneath.

Skirt still rolled at the waist.

Breasts bouncing slightly with each step because I was breathing so hard.

I knocked on the red door.

Once.

It opened.

Russo was waiting.

Black shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest tonight.

Pants slung low.

Barefoot.

Arms crossed.

Eyes immediately dropping to take in every detail, my flushed cheeks, my hard n*****s pressing against the fabric, the way my thighs pressed together like I was trying to hold myself in.

He didn’t speak.

Just stepped aside.

I walked in.

Door closed.

Locked.

He came straight to me this time.

One hand wrapped around my throat,not the tie, just his palm.

Firm.

Warm.

Thumb pressing under my jaw so I had to look up at him.

“Did you obey?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Twice?”

“Yes.”

His other hand slid between my legs without warning.

Two fingers pushed inside me, easy, because I was drenched.

He groaned low in his throat.

The sound vibrated through his chest into mine.

“So f*****g wet.”

I whimpered.

He pumped once,slow,then pulled out.

Brought his fingers to my lips.

“Open.”

I did.

Sucked them clean.

Tasted myself again.

He watched my tongue like he was memorizing it.

Then he stepped back.

Unzipped his pants.Pulled himself free,thick,hard veins standing out.

The tip is already glistening.

My mouth watered.

“On your knees.”