The Naughty Secretary: Part One Read online

  THE NAUGHTY SECRETARY

  Sammie Lake

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  http://www.amazon.com/author/sammielake

  Copyright © Sammie Lake 2013

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  To say that Christopher Warner was wealthy would be an understatement. I first saw him in Forbes Magazine. He looked so powerful, so regal. I’d searched long, for months, for a position to open that I was qualified for just so I could get into the company. Then one day it appeared.

  Executive Assistant Wanted.

  That’s all it said. No qualifications. Nothing. I’d been a secretary before, and it was good. The pay was nice. It provided an amount of power that most don’t realize. I had access to schedules, spreadsheets, diaries, everything. I wanted that again. I wanted to be someone important, or at least to be close to those who were important. The sense of power, no matter how small, was alluring to me. It drove me to make something of myself. I was still young — 28-years-old — and I still had my looks and my body. Especially my body. I dated a guy for awhile, but he never appreciated me all that much. He’d call me as slut and a whore and then use me as such. So degrading. So hurtful.

  I fixed up my resume to talk about all my experience. I even put a little kiss of lipstick at the bottom. I’d heard that I’d need to set myself apart from the other candidates and I didn’t think a little sultriness would cause much hurt. In fact, it helped. I received a call the next day. They wanted to see me. I left him the next day, ready to set my new life in motion. I was sick of living off of a man’s nonexistent dime.

  I made sure to where something nice; something sexy. I wore this sexy little thing — a tight black skirt with a halter top and a nice suit jacket that really emphasized my tits. They were all natural and it was pretty obvious. Big and full, and full of life.

  I sat down with this guy named Chad. It was in this brand-new office on the top floor, decked out in windows and moonlight. It was more like a cathouse than an office. It seemed to suit me well.

  “So, basically, the interview is pretty straight forward,” he said. “You’ll have to hand the paperwork, calls, schedules, and the other various duties we expect our secretaries to do.”

  “Which include?”

  “We also appreciate it if our women don’t ask many questions.”

  I didn’t like being put in “my place” but I really wanted this position. I sat quietly, and stuck out my chest a bit in case that was one of the other duties we meant.

  “This is a high-stress environment,” Chad went on, “and the high rollers here expect to be taken care of. Pampered, if you will.”

  I was starting to see what he was poking at.

  “Do you mind if we film this interview? Privacy laws and all, but Mr. Warner likes to see his candidates in action.”

  “Like paperwork? Is this an on-the-job of sorts?”

  “You could say that.”

  He looked at his watch, as if he were saying that I was wasting his time. I nodded and told him that I agreed, and I would do whatever Mr. Warner required. He told me he liked to be called Mr. Warner by his employees until he gave the permission to call him Chris. Once he told me that, Chris said, I was in the company, not just in name but in every sense of the world.

  “Could you take off your jacket? He’d like to see what you look like.”

  “Where’s the camera?”

  “Don’t concern yourself with that, but it’s on you. He’ll be watching. If you pass the test then we’ll call you and bring you in right away, as soon as possible.”

  I like the idea of that. Quick job offers were what I needed since I was just scraping by at this point, living on savings and Ramen noodles. God I was sick of instant noodles. I wanted to go out to one of those real Chinese restaurants in New York owned by a renowned chef and eat $50 noodles without a care in the world. I had to do whatever they asked if I wanted to get the position. I knew that much.

  We talked a bit more about the boring stuff. How fast could I type. If I could multitask. If I was up for challenges and if I was willing to go beyond the call of duty. What was this? I wondered. It sure wasn’t what the other position I held was like. Once we got through all that, we sat there quiet again.

  “And what do we do now?”

  “That’s the thing. It’s up to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How far are you willing to go?”

  “I’m willing to do whatever it takes for Mr. Warner’s respect, this job, and for him. I need this.”

  I was worried that I was beginning to sound desperate but it started to seem that’s what they wanted. They wanted desperate girls who didn’t care what happened to them; girls that would do whatever it took to get and keep the job; girls that didn’t have a care left in the world. I wasn’t that far. I wasn’t that desperate, but boy did I need this job. I was really sick of the ostensible prostitution I was committing myself to. Hooking up with guys that seemed rich, but were really just losers looking for a lay. That wasn’t me. I wanted to fuck who I wanted and when I wanted. I wasn’t a whore. A slut maybe, but not a whore.

  “How about this,” he said. “If you do whatever it takes in the interview then we can sign a contract and you can start in the morning.”

  “That’s, um, sudden. What if I need to put in a two week’s notice?”

  “You don’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Do you honestly think we haven’t researched you and who you are, and that we haven’t looked into you? This is your interview, not ours. There’s plenty of girls out there that would kill to work here and for Mr. Warner. Are you willing to kill?”

  “Well, not literally, but in the business sense, yes I am willing to kill. I will take down my competition and make the most of this opportunity. I will not disappoint.”

  “Good answer. We don’t need any maniacs here.”

  Chad laughed. I didn’t find the joke all of that funny, but was glad that I gave the answer I did. Who knows what they would have wanted if I had gone the other route.

  “We do have a dress code here. You can see the men’s code just by looking around. Very professional. Our women, though, we expect a bit more out of them.”

  We were sitting in a glass office room. I looked behind me and scanned the layout. He was right. The men all looked handsome in their handmade Italian suites. All blue. No ties. The women, though, they tended to wear something a bit skimpier.

  “You are not allowed to wear pants. Only skirts. Heels only. Revealing tops. Stockings are allowed if they’re revealing, but otherwise we want you barelegged. I shouldn’t have to tell you that we want you to be smooth, and if you get red bumps when you shave, well, you have a problem on your hands, or more accurately, legs.”

  At that he looked down at me. I was wearing lace stockings. I found them good at accentuating my long legs, and that the men that interviewed me always seemed to like them, like they were some sort of promise that I would sleep with them.

  “I can see you don’t have that problem,” he said. “You will be welcoming, kind and polite. Never argue with the men here, a
nd only give a contradictory opinion if it’s asked of you, and even then, tread carefully. Do you have a problem following directions?”

  “No sir.”

  “Good. The third rule is the big one: Mr. Warner might ask some unusual things of you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything, really, but the most common one seems to be your body. He will ask for your body, and if he says that he wants you to give his body to someone else, namely clients, then he expects you to do that.”

  “Isn’t that sexual harassment.”

  “Not here. If you’re going to have a problem with that then I welcome you to walk out of the door right now, and don’t look back. Our women are great workers. They’re the backbone of this company. Without them, do you really think that we would be so successful. This place is high stress. Some of the guys don’t have wives, and often the one’s that do are sick of them, having gotten married before they hit it big, and now afraid of leaving them and half their money.”

  “I understand,” I said. “That won’t be a problem. I will do whatever Mr. Warner asks of me. That won’t be a problem. Don’t worry.”

  What was I saying? Was I basically getting myself into the same situation as I’d been in before? I thought about it for a moment, and then realized that no, I wasn’t. I’m doing this for me and not for some slacker boyfriend. With it came a steady paycheck and the opportunities of a lifetime. This one was one of the top ten places in the world to work, surpassing even Google or Facebook, though I doubt their secretaries had to go as far as I was being asked.

  “Are you willing to cooperate with what I’ve asked of you?”

  “Yes, sir. I am.”

  “Very good. Very good indeed. We want you to regard Mr. Warner as a husband of sorts. He will be loyal to you if you are loyal to him. Think back a few decades and of the women that were models of society. We want you to be that way, but we strength and the sexual freedom afforded to you by this great country. We want you to be happy here. If you’re not happy then you can let Mr. Warner know. If you’re not happy with Mr. Warner then I’d advise you to just leave quietly and not come back. He is the reason this world goes round. The world isn’t as you think, Miss—“

  He paused for a moment. He didn’t even know my name.

  “Miss Chelsea.”

  “Is that your first or last name?”

  “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

  “Very clever, Miss Chelsea. Very clever. In all seriousness, though, we need to move on to the next and final stage of this interview. If you don’t feel comfortable doing this then I understand, and you can leave no questions asked, no harm done, but you just won’t be a fit here if you can’t do it.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want you to play with yourself.”

  “Come again?”

  “I want you to take off your clothes and masturbate for me. I want you to pleasure yourself.”

  “I, um—“

  “Is this a problem, Miss Chelsea.”

  “No, sir.”

  I took a deep breathe and counted to ten, collecting my racing thoughts as they came. Were they really asking me to do this? Was it some sort of trick? I didn’t think it was. If it were a trick then no way would they ask it. It couldn’t be some sort of integrity thing. No way would they go that far. I was confident that it was real and that Chad was serious.

  I began to undo my halter top. My bra, pushing up my tits, came free. I rubbed my tits through my bra. I could feel my nipples become hard. I knew that beneath them my areolae were becoming like a sandy beach, and my nipples were the diamonds in the sand. Chad stared intently, and pulled a camera out.

  “This is for, ah, extra consideration,” he said.

  I figured he would be taking this home, and thought about stopping. I wasn’t going to be some guy’s pleasure center, but he pulled out a contract and placed it in front of me. I looked down and saw the figure — $500,000. I hadn’t even made that much in my life. I wasn’t horny yet, but that instantly plunged me into the action. My pussy ached and begged to be touched and rubbed. I worked down my skirt, past my heels and stepped out. I slid my hand down my wetting panties and massaged my clit. My pussy screamed for me. It was begging me. I reached back and undid my bra, letting it fall to the ground next to my skirt. My nipples were as erect as I thought they would be. I pinched them lightly and then tugged hard. They began to swell. My pussy became wetter. Goosebumps engulfed my body. I worked my hands back down. I smiled at Chad.

  “How am I doing?”

  “Good. No more talking. Mr. Warner doesn’t like a lot of chatter. He’s more of an action kind of guy, if you know what I mean.”

  I said this all without looking away from the screen on his camera. I brought my fingers up to my lips and tasted myself. I bit my lip as I moaned, and my body began to throb and shake. I placed my thumb on my clit and began to rub in circles as I lowered my two fingers into me, and brought them back and forth. I rubbed furiously, and watched my fingers disappear into my cunt again. It was so tight; so ready. I wanted more, though. I inserted a third finger and filled myself up. I was rocking and writhing all over the place. I pressed my back against the chair and spread my legs.

  “Take off your panties. I want to see everything.”

  I did as he said, and spread myself again. I felt myself dripping down the edges of my thighs. I grasped the hood of my clit as I kept rocking and rolling, and slid my fingers up and down my clit hard. My legs spread wider, and my hips began to bounce. I couldn’t control myself. I began to lose control. I closed my eyes, and focused in on the pleasure. My lips swelled, and I gasped for air. I pinched my nipples and moaned. It was unbelievable. I’d never been this horny nor this into it before when I was just by myself.

  I jerked forward, nearly putting my head between my legs. Maybe it was the camera. Maybe it was the money, and the opportunity. I really didn’t care. I just wanted it so bad. My thighs clenched and I shuttered hard as I began to come, dripping down and soaking the chair, moaning loud and groaning. I was sure the whole office could hear me, but that didn’t matter. I wanted this position. I wanted to be on my own. I came, and stared deep into the camera as if I could see Mr. Warner looking at me.

  I leaned back in the chair and sighed, my legs now spread again. Chad came in close and filmed it.

  “I think you’ll be a good fit here,” he said. “I’m positive Mr. Warner will like you. Now sign the contract and we’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  Mr. Warner came in at 2 p.m. on Wednesday. He hadn’t said a word to me before then. Not an email. Not an Outlook invitation, or a direction for anything to do before then on Monday or Tuesday, or for half of Wednesday. I just sort of sat there. I thought about Chad, and how he’d watched me and wondered if Mr. Warner had as well. I stood up when he entered.

  “So you recognize me?” he said.

  “Doesn’t everybody?” I said.

  He was hard to miss. I could see how fit he was even through his navy blue suit and tie. He shook my hand. His hands were big and firm, and his nails perfectly manicured. His jaw was chiseled in every sense of the word — like something Michelangelo had created. He made the Statue of David look like a joke. I just wanted to see what Mr. Warner’s cock looked like.

  “I supposed you’re right,” he said. “Come. Come. Come into my office.”

  I followed him in, only a few steps behind. He took these long strides that only happened when a man had a destination or a determination. I imagined he always walked like this.

  I sat down across from him at his desk. I was already starting to get wet. Could you blame me? In the presence of a man so young, handsome, and powerful. His hair was cropped close to his head. It looked like he had just had it cut. I imagined it looked like that everyday.

  “I saw your video,” he said. “I liked what I saw.”

  “Oh?”

  “The thing is, though, is that I like to experience things in-person. I’m very
present, you see. I live in the moment. The past has already happened, and that’s no matter to me. The future will happen as it will. It’s the now that I care about. What can I do to make things favorable for me?”

  I nodded.

  “I see that you can work for yourself, and that’s good, but I want to see how you work for me. With me.”

  I nodded again. When could I just call him Chris? Should I even talk to him now? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to ruin this. It was already going so well. While my secretary background was being used, my sexual background was being used to its best extent.

  “Get on your knees.”

  I obliged. Mr. Warner got up from his desk and walked in front of me. He zipped his pants, and took out his cock. He was flaccid, but it was still one of the bigger cocks I’d seen, especially before it had become engorged and ready to get inside. I licked my lips, tasting my red lipstick, and took him in my hand. It twitched with excitement.

  “You like to suck cock?”

  “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

  “Then get to it.”

  I kissed the tip of his dick and give a little nibble. I grabbed it and could feel it pulsing in my hand. When he was fulling erect, he grabbed my head and pushed the head of his dick. I opened up, and he slid it in. I bobbed my head up and then down, in a fluid motion. I clenched my tight together and began to play with myself while I continued to suck his dick. I licked the entire length of his shaft. Mr. Warner began to rub the back of my head in a way that told me not to stop.

  I took him down my throat, and created a tight seal around his cock, massaging his shaft with my tongue as I continued to rise up and down on his massive erection. I began to moan as I sucked his juicy prick. I pulled down softly on his balls, mixing a little pain in with the pleasure. He groaned louder, and pushed on the back of my head, forcing him deeper still. I circled my hand along his cock while I tugged and blew, giving him constant sensation. He moaned louder. I could tell he was about to come. His abs tensed, and I pressed my hand against his stomach. He grabbed the sides of my head and fucked my mouth hard. With a loud grunt, he shot his hot load into my mouth and down my threat. I took it all, and looking up at him with my soft blue eyes, swallowed it all.