Work Text:
All you can hear is the sound of keys clacking on keyboards as you start your shift in the office. It’s eight in the morning, but with the windows of this whole building tinted so heavily, it looks like nighttime outside. Despite working here for over a year, you’re still not entirely used to it.
You stifle a yawn and reach for your coffee, taking a hearty swig before placing the mug back on your desk, precisely on the company-issued coaster. Unfortunately, your arm bumps into a stack of papers, sending them scattering across the carpeted floor.
With a sigh of annoyance, you scoot your chair back and get down on your knees, gathering them all into your arms.
Of course it’s at this very moment that your boss walks in.
You know he’s here before you even turn around to look. A hush has fallen over the room, all the office ladies pausing their noisy typing to gaze at him longingly. The scent of his ridiculously expensive cologne drifts over to you, and you can practically feel his presence coming to a stop directly behind you.
“What happened here?” a maddeningly smooth voice asks.
You stop gathering papers long enough to look back over your shoulder at him. In this position, he must be getting an eyeful of your ass in the air, straining against your tight skirt.
But that’s okay. You’re also getting an eyeful of him.
To say your boss, Geto Suguru, is an attractive man would be an understatement to the extreme. You’ve quite literally never seen a more beautiful human being in your life. Famous actors and models look like trash by comparison.
He wears his long, glossy black hair tied back into a sleek ponytail, one thick strand left free at the front. His dark eyes are sharp as they peer down at you, and his delectable mouth is curling up at the sides ever so slightly.
“Just me being clumsy, sir,” you say, still grabbing the scattered papers.
He squats down behind you, helping you pick up the pages. You hope he doesn’t wrinkle his impeccably fitted dark blue suit. It probably cost more than three months of your rent.
“Be more careful from now on,” he tells you as he hands you a stack.
You smile and thank him, biting back a sarcastic remark that popped into your head. You know better than to argue with him. He’s not a bad boss, never yelling at his employees or insulting them, paying generous wages, providing ample benefits as well as on site amenities most office workers would kill for.
But…
He’s a control freak. And a bit of a perfectionist. All tasks must be done with a high level of competence. Being late without a very good reason is unacceptable. Failure in any aspect is not an option. Every thing is structured and orderly in this building. Your desk must be kept clean and organized. Everyone must wear appropriate, professional clothing in dark or neutral colors. No patterns. Anyone with long hair must wear it tied back. Very long nails are not allowed.
There are so many rules, you almost quit on the first day. But while Suguru strictly enforces these rules, he obeys them himself, holding himself to the same high standard.
And, well, one of the biggest perks of working here is getting to look at him every day.
He leaves the room and within minutes, all the other office ladies are buzzing with chatter.
“God, he’s hot!”
“I don’t even want a promotion, I’d blow him for nothing!”
“He’s so picky though.”
“I wonder if he’s that controlling in bed.”
He is. Maybe even worse. You know this because, unbeknownst to all your coworkers, you’ve been fucking your boss for the past six months.
It started as a sort of game for you. Thinking it would be kinda hot to be scolded by him, you made a few “mistakes”. Nothing serious enough to jeopardize your job. Wearing a hot pink dress one day, being exactly three minutes late when returning from lunch, not using that stupid coaster for a couple of days… all things that drew his attention to you without making him angry.
And it worked. For three weeks you were called into his private office regularly to be lectured. You were flirty and coy, hinting at your motive without outright saying it. Soon enough he had you bent over his desk, your panties hanging off one ankle and your skirt wadded up around your waist as he fucked you absolutely stupid.
The nail that sticks up is the one that gets pounded, after all.
The rest of the day goes by without incident, until Suguru calls you to his office right before it’s time to go home.
With the door shut and the two of you alone, you walk over and sit on his desk. “What do you need?” you ask. There’s an equal chance he wants you to do a work-related errand or blow him under his desk. You’re up for either.
He’s sitting in his fine leather chair. “It’s a new moon tonight,” he says, giving you a meaningful look.
You instinctively glance out the windows, but they’re too tinted to see anything clearly and it’s definitely too early for the moon to be visible anyway.
“Oh? I didn’t realize. So the usual then?”
A smile spreads over his gorgeous face. “Nine o’ clock sharp.”
“I’ll be here,” you say, giving him a quick kiss before scooting off his desk and leaving his office.
You go home to have dinner and freshen up, then head back to the office. After hours, the building is always a bit creepy. Sure there are security guards and custodial staff, but Suguru makes certain none of them are on the eleventh floor where his office is. With the whole floor empty and the lights dimmed low, the place reminds you of those haunted buildings in horror movies.
The door to Suguru’s office is locked, but you have the key. Using it, you enter the room to find him already prepared.
Sitting in a custom made chair in the middle of the office is your boss. His hair is loose, just the way you like it, and his suit jacket has been discarded, leaving his stylish white button up and dark blue pants. His graceful hands, with their perfectly manicured nails, are on the arm rests.
Without bothering to greet him, you go about finishing the preparations he can’t do. One at a time, you fasten the buckles of the leather restraints around his wrists, binding his arms to the arm rests of the chair.
He looks up at you with a sultry grin. “Eager to get started, are we?”
You playfully flick his forehead. “Says the guy who’s ready and waiting before I even get here.”
His eyes seem to flash as lightning strikes somewhere outside, visible even through these darkened windows. Strange, you don’t remember any storms in the weather forecast.
“I’m hungry,” he says. A simple statement that has a heavy meaning.
“Don’t worry,” you say as you unbutton your blouse and slip it off your shoulders, “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
Under ordinary circumstances, Suguru is a controlling and somewhat dominant lover. Hell, half the time he even tells you when you can or can’t cum. But once a month, on the night of the full moon, he gives control to you.
He has you restrain him in this chair and then, for the next few hours, he’s your personal plaything. You don’t know why it has to be on the full moon. You’ve asked and he’s mostly avoided the question, but one night he slipped and gave a bizarre, cryptic answer. Something about his “hunger” and his lust rising in equal measure when the sky is darkest, and how satiating one calms the other.
The reason for the restraints? “For your own good.”
Total nonsense, in your opinion, but you certainly enjoy these nights even if you don’t understand their purpose.
By the time you finish undressing, leaving only your thigh high black stockings with a very noticeable seam up the back of each leg, Suguru’s dark eyes are clouded with desire. His hands are fiercely gripping the arm rests, his breaths coming quicker.
You start by straddling his lap, your bare pussy brushing against his clothed erection. You begin unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes lighting up as his perfectly toned chest and stomach gradually reveal themselves. They always take your breath away, no matter how many times you see them.
Before moving on to his pants, which must be feeling very tight by now, you lean in to kiss his achingly sensual mouth. Your tongue parts his soft lips and pushes inside, tasting him. The kiss becomes messy, saliva smearing all over both your faces, your drool dripping into his waiting mouth.
You pull away and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, then unbuckle his fine leather belt before unzipping his pants. He makes a small sound, halfway between a groan and a whine, as your hand slips into his open pants and takes hold of the hard, girthy cock.
Freeing it from his pants, you begin stroking it up and down as you lower yourself to your knees in front of the chair. You open your mouth and extend your tongue, letting saliva drip down onto his tip before stroking him again.
He’s breathing fast as he watches you, his nails scraping the wooden arm rests. You stop moving your hand for a moment, enjoying the way his cock twitches in your grip, as if it’s begging you to continue.
Thunder crashes outside the windows, but you don’t hear any rain. A dry storm, perhaps? Unusual in this area.
“Hey, don’t get distracted,” he says above you.
“I’m in charge tonight, remember? So don’t tell me what to-“
Your voice cuts off when you look up at him. The raging lust in his eyes catches you off guard. But he doesn’t just look aroused. He looks hungry.
That’s okay. You’re hungry too.
You smile up at him coyly. “Are you that desperate to be in my mouth?” you ask, beginning to stroke him again, your thumb circling his tip every time.
He suddenly jerks against the restraints, the motion startling you. What would happen if you released him in the middle of this? You’ve often wondered. There’s a tiny part of you that suspects he’d devour you whole. But that’s absurd. Suguru isn’t dangerous, just kinky.
Feeling like you’ve teased him enough, you finally lean forward and take him into your mouth, wrapping your lips firmly around the base of his thick shaft. He’s big enough to fill your throat, so you alternate between constructing it and relaxing it as your tongue massages his length. His head falls back, his hair spilling over the back of the chair as he groans, his hips bucking upwards, trying to fuck your throat.
Seeing such a perfect, controlled man become desperate and messy for you makes your pussy drip.
You pull back and give his tip a few teasing licks, thoroughly coating it in saliva, before taking the entirety of his cock back down your throat. He’s making such delicious sounds above you, his body taut and twitching, as you suck him off, one of your hands gently squeezing his balls while the other grips his thigh through his expensive pants.
Finally he cums, shooting his thick, tasty load right into your mouth, bathing your tongue.
You slurp it all down, then look up at him. He’s panting, his silky hair a mess, his eyes taking on an almost violet color in another flash of lightning.
This is how you like him best. His cock, now semi soft, is quivering in your hand. You know how sensitive he is immediately after cumming, so you begin stroking him again. His shaft is slippery from cum and spit, rapidly becoming hard again as he jerks against his restraints.
It must be unbearable for him. But he’s done the same thing to you enough times, held you down while he played with your clit until you were in tears, that you decide he deserves it.
“Ahh… fuck!” he cries out, his body jerking in the chair as you keep stroking relentlessly. Then, when you’re sure he’s right on the edge of climax again, you suddenly stop and pull your hand away.
The groan he lets out makes your pussy throb. You stand up and straddle his lap, position his hypersensitive tip right at your leaking hole, and sink down.
His hips reflexively buck off the chair, thrusting deeper into your pussy. You try to keep him down by letting your weight rest on his thighs, but he’s strong enough to keep lifting you up.
Your hands are buried in his hair as you lean down to kiss him. You wonder if he can taste his own cum on your tongue.
His thrusts calm a bit as you begin to ride him, swiveling your hips in a circular motion as you move your body up and down. Now you’re holding back moans as his meaty cock hits your sweet spot and your clit grazes his hot, firm skin every time you sink all the way down.
Your lips are still locked with his, and you taste blood in the kiss - just a faint metallic flavor. You don’t know if it’s his or yours. Your eyes open to glance at him, to see if he’s noticed. Lightning flashes again at that very moment, and you see that his eyes are wide open too, staring at you, their color seeming almost red in the bright, brief light that fills the room.
That’s the moment your body arches in pleasure, an intense orgasm washing over you as you break the kiss and cry out his name. Your fingers are entwined with his hair, your hips pressed into his groin to feel his cock even deeper inside you.
You stop moving, stop riding him, and just stay there, impaled in his lap, clenching him tightly. His cock pulses within you, then releases his seed, filling you up just as thunder booms overhead.
Exhausted, you finally slide off him and step over to his desk to lean on it for a moment. After catching your breath, you walk back over on shaky legs and start to unfasten the cuffs on his wrists, as usual.
He watches you silently as you release him, then back away and sit on his desk. You’re making a sticky mess on the shiny wood surface but you don’t care right now.
Suguru stands up and stretches, then rubs his wrists for a moment. This is usually when the two of you clean up and he offers to walk you to your car, but he’s still staring at you with an inscrutable expression.
“What’s wrong?” you ask playfully. “Was it too much for you?”
He moves so fast your brain barely has time to register that he’s suddenly upon you, pushing you back onto his desk and leaning over you. His hair is spilling over his shoulders, his eyes seeming to gleam in the darkness.
“No,” he says in that honeyed voice of his, “it wasn’t nearly enough.”