Anita

by Mandurah

©Copyright 2023 Mandurah

The first of a seven-chapter story about a thirty-year-old woman who has had three unsuccessful relationships, questions her sexuality, believes she may have a dark side and wants a man in her life.

Chapter 1 - A New Beginning

There were around twelve of us who, from 4.30 pm every Friday, would slowly leave our tenth-floor office and make our way to the bar on the ground floor. I was always one of the last to arrive around six, being the secretary to the principal of a law firm I worked for, before relaxing and enjoying a couple of drinks with my colleagues.

Mr Gorey was a great boss but was also demanding. He had many rules and imposed a strict dress code for all his employees. The men had to wear a suit and ties. And the ladies had to wear conservative business attire. Usually, I wore a black ankle-length pencil skirt, white blouse, and heels, with my hair in a bun. He expected me to stay behind when work had to be completed by a specific deadline but was generous to give me time off after working longer hours, and I don't think he cared for people leaving the office as early as 4.30pm.

Tonight was like any other Friday night. The drinks were going down well, maybe too well, and some of us ladies were letting our inhibitions down. Everyone was laughing, chatting, drinking, and catching up with the wins and losses in court, but more importantly, who was up who?

Mike, the barman, called me, "Anita, can you please come to the bar."

I went over and asked, "What's up, Mike?"

"That guy standing at the end of the bar bought you a sex on the beach cocktail."

I turned to look at the stranger, who smiled and waved in acknowledgement. I mouthed the words. "Thank you" to him. He was tall, looked around fifty, with a small paunched stomach. I accepted the drink but had no interest in him, so I returned to our table to continue where I had left off.

I'm thirty years old and tall for a woman at 180cm (or 5'11" if you prefer.) My 36b breasts are firm with no sag, curvy hips, and well-toned legs. I work out four days a week, keeping my body in great shape. I can still turn a man's head and have received many drinks over time from strangers. Some have led to great one-night stands. I got married at nineteen and divorced at twenty-five. Plus. Two other short-lived, unsuccessful live-in relationships. I now have no man in my life.

I like men, but for some reason, I can't seem to keep them. Maybe they see me as intimidating, with my height and how I dress when not at work, or perhaps they think I'm high maintenance. I don't know. I’m still a romantic and hope Mr Right is still out there for me.

I was talking to Gina, one of the other secretaries, when a business card dropped on my lap. I was curious and looked around to see who had dropped the card and saw the guy who had bought me a drink walking towards the exit.

Written on the back of the card was. "My office lunchtime Monday." I looked at the front of the card, showing the business name. James Anderson. Chartered Accountant, and his name. James Anderson. Principal. His office address was on the twelfth floor of the same building I worked in.

What a rude, arrogant prick. Who doesn't have the courtesy of talking to me? With no, please, or thank you, he expects me. No, he demands me to be in his office when he wants. What an arsehole? Or were my thoughts clouded by the alcohol, and I was pissed off because he hadn't spoken to me, and yet, he must have a good reason to want to see me.

On Monday, I ignored Andersons' request to visit him. I had no reason to go, and the prick didn't have the courtesy to talk to me and tell me why he wanted to see me. No, it was a demand, and I didn't care for that. But then I thought, maybe he wanted to hire me. Who knows? Oh well. Too late now.

Around three that afternoon, Mr Gorey called me on the intercom, "Ms Colby, can you please come into my office?"

It's not a good sign when Mr Gorey calls me Ms Colby. He usually calls me Anita. I immediately picked up my notebook and pencil, knocked on Mr Gorey's door and went in.

"Please take a seat.” I sat down feeling anxious. "I have just had a call from James Anderson, who said he asked you to visit him this lunchtime, and you didn't turn up. Why is that so?"

What the hell? What has my private life got to do with work, I thought. "Mr Gorey. Mr Anderson dropped a card on my lap Friday evening in the bar downstairs, asking me to be in his office at lunchtime today. I didn't go because I had no reason to, and he didn't even have the courtesy to talk to me. So what's the issue?"

"Mmmm, I see. We get a lot of referrals from Mr Andersons' office. Be a good girl and pop up and see what he wants. I would hate to lose any potential business due to a misunderstanding from one of my employees."

What a condescending old goat calling me a girl, and for the sake of referrals, I have to go and see the prick two floors up. Fuck, I didn't want to give Anderson the time of day. But I'm likely to lose my job if I don't.

I took the lift to Andersons' office to be greeted by a stunning-looking receptionist. "Good afternoon, Ms. Do you have an appointment to see Mr Anderson?"

I gazed around the reception area. Oh my gosh, this office oozes opulence to the nth degree with the furnishings, floor coverings, lights, artwork, etc. And with Miss World behind the desk. Wow, I'm super impressed.

"Ms?"

"Oh, sorry. I was looking around this impressive office, and wow, it looks fantastic, and so do you."

The young woman was seated behind a closed front desk, so I could only see her upper body and face. I have never been with or fancied a woman before, but this one, I could be tempted.

The young woman blushed as he said, "Thank you. I get that a lot."

"Anita Colby to see Mr Anderson, and no, I don't have an appointment. My boss sent me to see him. Actually, I was supposed to meet Mr Anderson at lunchtime, but I didn't arrive."

"Oh, I see," said the woman, who pressed the intercom. "Mr Anderson, Ms Colby is here to see you, sir."

Has this happened to other women before with the way she said, "I see?" Is this a regular thing? I thought. And she called her boss, sir. What's that all about?

"Send her in," Anderson gruffly replied.

"Yes, sir. Please go in now, Ms Colby."

I walked through the double doors into an office I could only describe as decadent, and the views from the windows looking over the Swan River were outstanding.

Anderson sat behind his desk, leaning back with his fingers steepled together, his chin resting on them, as he looked at me.

He looked immaculate in what I guessed was an expensive Italian suit. His aura filled the room in a commanding way. This man is used to getting what he wants, one way or another, and I felt like a naughty schoolgirl standing in front of the principal. Waiting to be disciplined, I thought.

"Mr Anderson, why am I here?"

He ignored the question and asked one of his own. "Are you married?"

“No," I answered, shocked at his personal question, but I wasn't going to volunteer any information I didn't have to.

"Children?"

"No."

"Living with someone?"

I didn't care for the personal questions at all. But I had to answer them due to the connection with my boss.

"No."

"Mmmm, interesting," he replied. He looked to be deep in thought Before he pressed the intercom button. "Ruth, get in here," he commanded

"Yes, sir," was the instant reply.

Ruth came in and blew me away. I hadn't seen her figure while she sat at her desk. Oh, wow. Very impressive, I thought. The short skirt and heels she wore showed off her well-toned legs, and her hips and breasts looked perfect. I glanced at her left hand to see if she was wearing any rings, and yes, she was married. I would love to be her husband fucking her brains out every night. That would be so good, the lucky bastard. But what's wrong with me? I'm lusting after another woman. I have never felt this way about a woman before.

"Ruth, desk."

My eyes were glued to this petite and gorgeous woman as she slowly walked past me and continued to the end of his desk. Ruth bent over, exposing the lower part of her butt cheeks, and showing her bright red g-string, then turned her head away from me and Anderson.

I glared at Anderson, my eyes wide with trepidation, and he sneered back at me. "Don't you think Ruth looks a picture, with her soft skin, perfectly shaped arse, and those legs? Mmmmm, she is so sweet. Would you like to touch her? Be a good girl and run your fingers over the back of her thighs, caress those beautiful arse cheeks, put your hand between her legs and feel the heat emanating from her wet pussy."

I wanted to touch Ruth. No, I wanted to fuck Ruth. But I couldn't move. I was glued to the spot and mesmerised by Anderson's controlling voice.

"DO IT," he shouted, making me jump. Before I could move, he smacked Ruth's left arse cheek, and she cried out in anguish, then slapped her again, this time on her right, with the same results.

My eyes were focused on Ruth's butt as it began to turn red, with Anderson's hand print beginning to show on her perfect arse cheeks. He gently rubbed over them, helping to soothe the pain. Then he put his left hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy, and I'm sure I heard her let out a contented sigh.

I squirmed uncomfortably as I slightly opened my legs. My nipples were hardening as moisture gathered in my pussy. My arousal began to build. Anderson noticed me move and smiled contemptuously at me.

Anderson pressed a button on his desk. And a panel in the wall turned one-hundred-and-eighty degrees to reveal a St. Andrews cross and an array of whips, floggers, canes, swats, and a range of restrictive implements and toys.

I audibly gasped and cringed when I saw all the devices, covering my mouth as I did.

He walked over and perused the items facing him, running his fingers across the neatly arranged tools of pain or pleasure. He selected a cane, holding it in his right hand, inspecting it thoroughly before repeatedly swooshing it through the air, occasionally tapping it into his left.

As Anderson approached, I dropped my head onto my chest and looked at the floor. I didn't want to look at him. He stood in front of me for a brief while and said, "Good girl." before moving behind Ruth. I watched as he gently tapped the cane on Ruth's buttocks. Woosh. There was a sharp crack as he brought the wooden rod down hard on her butt cheeks.

Ruth flinched and whimpered as the cane left a red welt across her cheeks. Anderson then applied another three equally hard strokes, in quick succession, to her unprotected rear. She lifted her feet off the floor, kicking them through the air as she mewled with the burning sensation searing through her butt.

I had tears in my eyes as I looked at Ruth. She had four deep red welts across her arse. Anderson gently rubbed each cheek in a circular motion before moving his hand between her legs, moved her string to the side, and fingered her furiously.

I was shocked by the brutality of this man, as he caused so much pain to such a beautiful woman. Why does Ruth let him do this to her, I wondered.

Before I knew it, Anderson was in front of me again, holding his fingers that had been inside Ruth's pussy up to my mouth. "Taste her," he mockingly sneered.

I turned my head to the side, refusing to comply with his demand. Anderson laughed and gripped my chin, turning my head to face him. Then he pinched my nose, forcing me to open my lips. Then put his pussy lubricated fingers in my mouth and said, "Suck them clean, and don't you dare bite them if you know what is good for you."

I was given no option and complied with his vile demand. After I had cleaned his fingers, he said, "Next time, I will only tell you once, and if you do not comply immediately, you will suffer severe pain.

"Ruth, strip," Anderson growled.

Ruth got off the desk, did not look at me and stripped. I noticed she was clean-shaven. Was that of her own volition or something Anderson had demanded? Then she walked over to the cross and spread-eagled herself against it.

Anderson walked over to her and secured her wrists with the leather straps before doing the same to her ankles and tapping her arse several times as he looked for his next implement to use.

I cringed and thought. My god, is he going to whip or flog her? I felt sorry for Ruth as she had to endure this man's sadistic pleasure. Yet, at the same time, I was aroused and turned on. My nipples were so hard they hurt, and my pussy felt like a swamp as it dripped my secretions into my panties. Am I as sick as Anderson? Was I a sadist, too? I have never experienced anything like this in my life. Did I like the idea that another woman was suffering, or was it Ruth's body that had me so aroused? I wish I knew, but I did know I wanted to fuck her.

Anderson selected a cordless massage wand, turned it on and leaned around Ruth's right thigh and held it against her clit, as he put his left hand between her legs and fingered her from behind.

After a short while, I noticed Ruth was gripping the restraints, her knuckles turning white as Anderson pleasured her. Soft moans were emanating from her as she thrust her hips forward, pushing her groin onto the wand, and he furiously pumped his fingers in and out of her pussy, as she began to moan, squirting on every inward stroke. Pee covered Anderson's hand as he mercilessly finger fucked her. "Please, sir. May I cum?" Ruth softly wailed.

"Not yet."

Ruth's torment continued for several more minutes before she asked again, "Please, sir. I'm begging you, pleeeeeease let me cum."

"Soon."

Ruth slumped against her restraints, desperately fighting to hold off the climax that would give her the relief she was aching for.

"Cum for me slut, cum for me now."

"Ooohhhhhhh," Ruth moaned as a steady stream of fluid ran between her legs. Anderson left the wand on her clit, and continued to finger her. Ruth's torment continued for what I guessed was around another five minutes before her head fell forward as she buckled at the knees. It was only the wrist restraints keeping her upright.

That was a preview of Anita. To read the rest purchase the book.

Add «Anita» to Cart