My Office Co-Worker Brought Out My Most Submissive Side

I still have a hard time explaining how Damián and I ended up like this. We met at work, in that cubicle zone where everyone pretends to be busy, and for months what we had was strictly professional: emails, reports, the occasional shared coffee when meetings ran long.

One day, someone joked in the internal chat that the two of us were more than desk neighbors. We liked the joke. We started playing along, first with nonsense and then with messages neither of us would have wanted the systems department to read. We talked about renting a place together, because the office was far from both of us; we talked about touching each other when no one could see; we talked about inviting other people, just for the thrill of imagining it.

Until one afternoon the conversation stopped being a joke.

—Just so you know, I already sent my intern packing —he wrote.

—Yeah, but my boss is still in my office.

—Doesn’t matter. Invite him.

—No, gross. But he’s already gone. You come instead.

—Your chair squeaks, they’ll hear us.

—Let the last one out leave, and I’ll ask security to open the small conference room for me.

—They’re going to fire us, Renata. Jesus.

—Who’s scared now?

I heard his chair scrape. He came into my office almost running, stopped behind me, slid his hands inside my blouse and squeezed my breasts. He lifted me out of the chair, turned me around, pressed his pelvis to my ass and shoved a couple of times, hard, rough. And then he left, just like that, as if nothing had happened.

I was frozen. Five minutes later he came back to say goodbye.

—I’m heading out.

—Okay, take care.

He leaned in to kiss my cheek, something we had never done. But he didn’t kiss my cheek: he kissed my mouth. A wet, eager, slow kiss. I felt my panties get damp instantly. For a second I thought something else was going to happen, and again he left me there, sitting and replaying over and over what had just happened.

I walked out of there on clouds, lit up like I hadn’t felt in a long time. I got home, stripped off my clothes and, thinking about his hands, that kiss, how rough his shove had been, I touched myself until the memory was enough.

***

The occasional groping over our clothes didn’t take long to turn into something more. One afternoon we were practically alone on the floor. I sat in the corner of my office, the blind spot from the doorway, and he came over in a hurry, though I didn’t understand why he was in such a rush. He opened my blouse, pushed aside my bra and yanked my breasts out. He kissed them, sucked them, kissed my mouth with the same urgency.

Nervous, I reached for his pants. His hardness was obvious. As best I could, I undid his belt and pulled down the zipper; his cock sprang out in front of me. I took it and started jerking him off slowly, knelt down and took him in my mouth calmly, circling the head with my lips, stroking the underside with my tongue. I heard him huff and knew I was doing it right.

The rocking of his hips pushed his cock down my throat. I couldn’t breathe, saliva choking me. I had to stop for a second and ask him to tell me when he was close. I kept going, running my tongue along it, sucking hard, until his hands clamped onto my hair.

—Almost —he said through clenched teeth.

I felt him harden even more and took him in just in time to feel the contractions of his orgasm filling my mouth. I cleaned him with my tongue and swallowed. When I sat up, we both hurriedly straightened our clothes. His face was pure satisfaction.

—You suck cock so well —he said, still thick-tongued.

—Did you like it?

—Of course. Now I want more —he replied, touching my breasts through my blouse.

—Another day, somewhere else. Here it’s too risky.

***

We were lying to each other, of course. The next day we ended up alone again. It was late, I was drafting a report, and he walked in without warning and sat down in front of my desk. I thought it would be one of those times he knocked something from my things onto the floor and said he was bored. But he only stared at me until I stopped typing and looked up.

—We’re alone —he said, curtly.

—Oh yeah? And what about it?

He stood, closed the door, turned off the light. He went around the desk, slammed my laptop shut and yanked me to my feet by the arms. He turned me around and bit my neck. A current ran through me from head to toe. He kneaded my breasts hard while his mouth moved up and down my neck, which I, already giving in, opened up for him.

With one hand he unfastened my pants and groped inside my underwear; with the other he tugged my hair to tilt my head back. I obeyed. My hands found his erection and freed it quickly. He bent me over the desk and slammed into me without warning, without restraint, without asking. I choked back a cry for fear someone might hear us. His aggressive rhythm made wetness drip down my thighs.

I felt his hands climb to my throat and close just enough. My vision blurred and I couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or lack of air. As abruptly as it had begun, he stopped. He turned me around, laid me on the desk, pulled my pants down farther, spread my legs and went in again. I lost track of time and came back to the world with the sound of our hips crashing together.

—Wait, wait, they’re going to hear us —I said between gasps.

—I don’t care —he replied in a tone I didn’t know.

He kept pounding into me hard, one hand anchored on my breast, until he let out a strangled exhale. He had come. Luckily I had tissues in my drawer. We cleaned up, got dressed; there wasn’t a soul nearby. I checked the time: almost eight. I gathered my things and went home with shaking legs.

***

From that day on our conversations got more and more explicit. It was incredible how wet I got just by texting him. In one of those talks the subject of BDSM came up, and I discovered that he had a dominant side that barely surfaced at the office. That tone lit something in me that had been dormant for a long time: the desire to submit, to feel trapped. Every time we had sex I could tell he was holding back, and that frustrated me as much as it scared me.

I wanted to push the boundary a little, so I gave him some bondage ropes. I showed him some basic knots. We weren’t very good at it, but we laughed.

***

One Saturday we went out. Everything was perfectly normal: we ate, made fun of my outfit, which had some pretty suggestive sheer panels, and went dancing. For the first time in a long while I saw him drink alcohol. I drank more than he did, obviously. We danced for hours, and between the heat and the drinks I pressed my body against his more shamelessly than was prudent, my hands going for his crotch without the slightest subtlety. He caught one of my wrists hard and spoke in my ear.

—Let’s go. I need to make you mine.

We walked quickly to the car. He didn’t drive calmly, especially not with one of my hands stroking him over his pants, urging him on. The second we got into his place he was on top of me, devouring my mouth hungrily. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom: he ripped off my clothes from the waist down, sat me on the table and penetrated me right there. I took him soaking wet. He carried me to the bedroom without pulling out and threw me onto the bed. His cock was almost throbbing as I waited for him, eager.

—Stand up —he ordered, sharply. I obeyed, my heart pounding against my chest—. Take all your clothes off and tie your hair up.

I didn’t know why, but I obeyed again. From a drawer he took out the ropes I’d once given him. My eyes went wide. It didn’t take long to understand what he had in mind.

He took me from behind and kissed my neck, the nape of my neck. When I moaned, he stopped.

—No one gave you permission to make noise.

He trailed a warm hand down my breasts, my stomach, until he reached between my thighs. He stroked my clit slowly, parted me, and his fingers slipped in and moved fast. I moaned again.

—Shut up. No one gave you permission.

He pulled his hand away, turned me around, latched onto my hard nipples and sucked them until my skin prickled. He laid me back and buried his head between my legs. His warm tongue found my clit; I pressed my thighs together and he forced them open again. I felt his mouth moving all over me while his hands sought my breasts. I trembled, and an orgasm overtook me at the skill of his tongue. I moaned loudly.

He straightened and looked at me coldly.

—I told you you don’t have permission to make noise.

He landed a calculated slap on me, just hard enough to make it sound without hurting me. He tangled his fingers in my hair and made me kneel on the floor.

—Let’s see if you make noise now.

With my head thrown back, he shoved his cock into my mouth. The head hit the back of my throat and made me arch. He was pushing my head against his pelvis so fast my tongue couldn’t keep up. I was salivating, tearing up, and for some reason I was wetter than ever. He pulled out, looked me in the eyes and smiled in a way that mixed fear and pleasure.

—Are you ready?

—Yes —I answered, almost voiceless.

***

He took me to the bed and, with the ropes, made a simple harness, tying my wrists to my ankles. He positioned himself behind me and nipped at my neck, slid one hand to the front to knead my breasts and pinch my nipples, while the other rubbed my exposed clit. His kisses moved down my back, bending me forward. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him jerking himself off. When I ended up with my face pressed into the mattress and my ass up in the air, he bit one cheek softly and I jolted.

—Don’t move. I didn’t give you permission.

—Okay.

—Okay what? —his tone showed a little impatience.

—Okay, Daddy —I said, submissive.

He kissed my back again and, when he reached my ass, he straightened and thrust into me deep, once, before pulling out. He ran his tongue from my clit to the back and a shock went through me. He started sucking me again, pushing a finger into my cunt and another into my ass. The surprise made me move, and that was why the first spank landed: hard, loud. My skin burned as if there were coals on it. Another one sounded, and another.

—I told you not to move. Put your feet up and jerk me off with them.

I obeyed with more fear than pleasure. I put his cock between my feet and started moving them as best I could, rocking while he invaded me with his fingers and spit to lube me. He penetrated me again, lifted me by the harness and squeezed my nipples.

—I like it when you obey. It turns me on.

Suddenly he turned me over and I was on my back, my legs bent by the tie. He spread my knees, got between my legs and went back to eating my breasts. He worked his way down with bites to my sex, shifted my hip to leave me almost on my side and penetrated me again. Every thrust made my breasts bounce.

—Now you can make noise.

But fear wouldn’t let me moan loudly, so he drove into me even harder. His open hand fell on my exposed ass, once, twice, three times. My skin burned and with each hit I got wetter. One of his hands moved from my thigh to my neck and slowly closed its fingers. I could barely breathe, but that lack of air made the pleasure grow. Oxygen rushed back in all at once and his hand found my face, first one cheek, then the other.

—You like that, little bitch?

—Yes, yes, I love it —I said as I clenched around his cock.

***

He stopped, untied my ankles, undid the harness, spent a while on my breasts and put me on all fours. When he drove into me I couldn’t stop myself from crying out in pleasure, and he answered with a slap on the ass cheek he hadn’t touched yet, so hard I thought my skin was splitting open. He dug his hands into my hips. I felt my fluids gushing out.

He reached for his belt and looped it around my neck. He pulled out and rubbed his cock against my ass.

—Pass me a condom before I stick it in there.

I stretched my hands toward the headboard looking for the condoms without choking myself with the belt, which he never loosened. At last I reached one. I handed it to him, he put it on and pressed the tip to my entrance. He spat to help and started to push. I felt it give little by little.

—I thought you didn’t like it back there —I said, shyly.

—I didn’t. But with you, I wanted to.

That tone lit me up and I shoved my hips back, taking at least half of him inside. My skin prickled and the groan he let out confirmed that both of us were enjoying it. He fucked me so hard I thought I might faint from pleasure. His fingers only left my ass to slap my face, leaving a burn that made everything more intense.

He stopped, turned me around, spread my legs and took off the condom.

—I’m going to fill you with cum. Tell me where you want it.

—Wherever you want to leave it, Daddy. Fill me up.

He came in again and fucked me with vigor. His grunts warned me he was close. He put one of my legs over his shoulder and bit my calf hard. I felt pain and, at the same time, the first shot inside me. He pulled out and kept coming over my stomach, so hard it reached my chest. Satisfied, he collapsed on top of me and kissed my forehead.

—Good girl. I didn’t know you could take that much.

We rested, cleaned up, and settled in to sleep. Truth is, I hadn’t been fucked like that in years: no fear of being broken, setting the rhythm, giving me back that submissive side I’d kept locked away for too long. That night I fell utterly spent, satisfied and happy, like a log.