Executive Submission

hands tied up

“You want to be fucked, don’t you? Fucked, spanked and maybe even flogged.”
I blanch as I turn around to face the young woman who has joined me on the terrace. Not because her words are crude, but because she seems to have read my thoughts. She seems to know my deepest desire, one I have never expressed to anyone. Not even my husband when we were still married. I consider denying it. Drawing myself up to full height and rebuffing her. Who does she think she is? That slip of a girl, I could be her mother! How dare she talk to me like that? But I don’t. In that split second I make the decision to be honest for a change. After all, I am only at this hotel for a week. After this week I will never have to see her again. And I could use some fun. The company retreat has been all work and no play.
“I do,” I say and I register the brief moment of surprise on her face. It gives me some satisfaction. “Are you offering?”
She nods curtly, fully in control again. “Room 305,” she says, “nine o’clock. Don’t be late.” Before I can say anything, she sweeps past me and is gone.
For a moment I am unable to move, my breath suddenly constricted. I feel completely aroused and terrified at the same time. But I know what I will do.

I stand in front of the mirror and wonder if I have taken leave of my senses. I have showered and shaved; now all I have to do is pick an outfit. I have not packed anything fancy – sex hadn’t been on the agenda for this conference. In fact, sex hasn’t been on the agenda in my life for quite some time, ever since the company went public. Men now seem to be attracted to my status, not my personality or even my body. I study my body in the mirror and wonder not for the first time why that woman on the terrace approached me. I am not beautiful, my youthful lustre having disappeared many years ago. My stomach is soft and there is a noticeable sag to my breasts. I am definitely middle aged. I cringe at the thought, but at fifty-seven I can’t deny it any longer. Oh, I look all right in a business suit, make-up expertly applied, but standing naked in the harsh bathroom lights I can’t deny the truth. I may not be old, but I firmly qualify as older.
I shake my head, dispelling all negative thoughts. This woman has made me a proposition I can’t refuse. I have been horny all day looking forward to tonight. What does it matter how old I am? My cunt is throbbing and wet with desire and I will get what I want tonight. I reach between my thighs and cup my soaked sex. I am briefly tempted to take the edge of my lust, but decide not to. Best to let it build, my relief will be so much better.

I won’t deny that my hand shakes as I knock on the door of room 305 at exactly nine o’clock. The door opens and there she is. The woman from the terrace. She is wearing thigh high laced-up boots and an impossibly tight mini dress. She takes a moment to appraise me and my nipples stiffen under her gaze. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly and I can’t stop my cunt from flooding. I want this woman to fuck me more than anything.
“Come in,” she says at last, standing aside to let me in. I enter the room, unsure of what to do. It’s an unusual feeling for me and I relish in it. I am totally in the hands of a stranger.
“I’m Layla,” the woman says as she comes up behind me.
I nod and try to swallow. “I’m Olive.”
“Take off your clothes, Olive.”
It’s not a request, it’s an order; and I comply. I strip off my skirt and blouse, but I hesitate when I am down to my knickers.
“You came here to get fucked,” Layla says behind me. “I need you naked for that.”
I take a deep breath and peel my knickers off. They are my good lace ones, but Layla doesn’t seem to have noticed.
“On the bed,” Layla commands.
My legs feel like rubber as I make it to the bed. My juices are coating the inside of my thighs and this makes me even wetter. I can’t remember the last time I was this horny.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and Layla stands in front of me. I have to tilt my head to look at her, which puts me in a submissive position. I can see what she is doing and I get even more aroused. I want this woman to order me around, and I don’t even know her.
“We will start slow tonight,” she says. “You tell me how hard you want it and I will give it to you. What safe word do you want to choose?”
“Safe word?” For a moment I am confused. The word “tonight” lingers in my mind. Does she mean there will be more nights? The thought excites me and I squirm on the bed.
“If you want me to stop, you have to have a safe word. Something inane, not sexual. Like ‘buttercup’.”
I frown. My mind is full of images of sex, I can hardly think straight. “Watermelon,” I finally say. It’s the best I can come up with.
“Watermelon.” She nods. “Spanking and flogging then?”
“Yes.” I can hardly breathe. I also hope there will be fucking involved, my cunt needs some attention too, but I am too timid to ask.
“All right. Have you ever done this before?”
I shake my head. “No, this is the first time.”
“We’ll take it easy then. I won’t be gentle – you will feel it tomorrow – but since this is your first time, I don’t want to go too hard on you. Any areas I should avoid?”
I can feel a blush creep over my face. “Anything that can’t be covered up. I have meetings all week and can’t have any…you know…obvious evidence.”
She smiles. “Of course. But I will tie you up. Unless you object?”
She cocks an eyebrow at me and I shake my head. My arousal is reaching ridiculous levels. I feel I can come from just one touch.
The smile is gone, Layla is serious now. “Lie back with your hands above your head.”
This is it, then. I am really going to do this. I shuffle back on the bed, leaving a trail of my desire in my wake. I lie back and link my wrists together over my head. Layla ties me up with a rope, making sure not to tighten it too much. When she is done, she slides her hands down my arms, stopping to fondle my breasts. I gasp as she flicks my nipple with her finger, pinching the erect peaks hard. Then her hands are on the move again, roving over my belly, my sides and finally making their way to the apex of my thighs. Her fingers skirt over my slit and I moan with desire.
“Oh, you are going to like this, you filthy slut,” she says as she inspects the evidence of my desire. “Turn around.”
With difficulty I turn on the bed.
“On your knees.”
I am shaking now, my whole body crying out for her touch. I shuffle my knees underneath me and lift up my ass. She kneels behind me and pushes my legs apart. My cunt aches to be filled, but she strokes my backside gently.
Then, out of nowhere, comes the first slap. It’s hard and it stings. I gasp, but she ignores it and slaps me again on the other ass cheek. She stroked her hands over my burning ass to take away some of the sting, then slaps me again. My cunt contracts and with each slap she comes closer and closer to my wet slit. Her hands lands on my exposed cunt and I moan with lust. The world disappears, there is only the spanking and my hot, raw desire.
Just as I think I can’t take it anymore – my body taut with the need for relief – she pushes two fingers inside me, curling them to graze my G spot. My cunt welcomes the intrusion, hungry for more. She thrusts her fingers in and out of my cunt while her other hand snakes around my thigh to find my clitoris. I weep and writhe within the confines of my bonds while she fucks me expertly. I have never felt such bliss and all my self-control is gone. The waves of pleasure take me higher than I have ever been and when I crash over the edge it is the most amazing feeling of relief. My cunt gushes when I come, drenching Layla’s hand and the sheets underneath me.
Layla cups my cunt lightly as the shock of my orgasm wrecks through my body. I slump against her, unconcerned about the sweat on my body or the way my hair sticks to my face. My ass feels raw and my cunt contracts lightly, like aftershocks from an earthquake. It has been a long time since I have been able to let myself go like this. I didn’t know how much I needed this until now. And all I can think about is doing it again. I want to be fucked like this every night of the conference. After the treatment Layla has given me, I can endure any attack on my position as CEO. I am fearless now.
Layla kisses my neck. “Are you all right?”
I smile, though I hardly have any energy left. “It was amazing,” I say. “I am sorry I came so quickly.”
“Same time tomorrow?” she asks.
I realize I am being dismissed, but I don’t care. She has offered to see me again, that’s all that matters.
“Same time,” I say. I try to keep the eagerness out of my voice.
She smiles as she hands me my clothes.
“See you tomorrow, Olive.”

The week is made bearable by my nights with Layla. The meetings are torturous, like always. Veiled references to my age, hints at retirement. I am hardly near retirement age. But while these meetings used to leave me exhausted and frustrated, I now find my release in the sting of Layla’s hand on my ass and on the top of my thighs. She has promised to flog me, but I have to be patient. She is training me up for it, she says, and I have to admit that I like the nights I don’t get spanked as much as the nights I do. On the nights when my ass and thighs need to recover from her abuse, Layla fucks me with a variety of sex toys. She is anything but gentle, but it’s exactly the sort of treatment I crave. Hard, raw lust. I seem to come alive in her bedroom, taking anything she gives me, no matter how harsh. My nipples have felt the pinch of the clamps, my clit has been assaulted by the most powerful wand vibrator I have ever seen and still I crave more. She has penetrated me with dildos I never would have thought could fit inside me and last night she even fitted me out with a small butt plug. Anal play has never been on my radar, but when she pushed the plug into place and I felt it slip into my butt I almost orgasmed from that act alone. The resulting fucking with a strap on left me screaming with ecstasy. To have two of my holes filled was incredibly hot.
But tonight is the last night. Tonight is the night she will flog me. I try not to think about it being the last night, as I don’t want the impending loss to overshadow what promises to be an amazing night. I am ready for anything.
“Spread your legs.”
Layla’s tone is harsh. My cunt is throbbing with anticipation and I obey. Layla ties my legs to the footboard, testing the tension to make sure it’s not going to cut off my circulation. I wonder what I look like. I’m spread out on the bed, my hands tied to the headboard, my face buried in a pillow. My ass is in the air, stuffed with a heavy, metal butt plug. My knees are spread out so my cunt is completely exposed. My body, which I had been so critical of on our first day together has given me untold pleasure in the last week. Pleasure I hadn’t even known existed.
“I’ll use the flogger tonight,” Layla says and her voice betrays her excitement. Knowing that I turn her on arouses me even more. It’s not a chore for her, she enjoys this as much as I do.
Layla trails the flogger over my back, allows it to dip between my legs and tickle my cunt. I moan, the sound stifled by the pillow. I can’t see Layla, but I can imagine her. Tight latex, high heeled boots and a grim smile on her face. Oh, she loves bringing me to the edge, drawing out that moment before my climax. I wish this night would never end, I wish…yes, I wish I could take Layla with me after the retreat. I push the thought away, I need to clear my mind for the pleasure to come.
“Let’s see how much you can stand, shall we?” Layla asks and I shiver with excitement. I will do her proud and take whatever she can give me.
The first lash takes me by surprise and I bite in the pillow to stifle my cry. A second one follows right behind and then Layla’s hands are on me, caressing my ass, taking some of the sting away. Before I can completely recover, she lashes out again, this time hitting my back. I can’t writhe, can’t crawl away, and can’t do anything other than take the pain.
The pain drives all thoughts away. My fear, my doubts, my loneliness. There is only the sting of the flogger, followed by Layla’s soothing hands, and later, her tongue getting closer and closer to my cunt which is now dripping with lust. I crave to be taken, to be fucked senseless. As much as I like the pain of being flogged, my cunt aches to be filled.
But she is not done yet. She metes out her lashes carefully, marking my back, thighs and ass with what I am sure will be a patchwork of welts. I can’t detect a method in her lashes; she likes to keep me guessing so I can’t brace for the next sting. I feel myself slipping into a place in my mind away from the pain, breathing deeper to take the lashes. Just when I think I can’t stand it anymore, she stops. Her cooling hands are on me, soothing my skin with her feather light touch. I am pain and lust and need. I need Layla to finish this, to send me spinning over the edge.
At the sound of the vibrator buzzing on, my cunt contracts achingly. I feel the tip of a dildo at the entrance of my cunt and long to push back against it, but the restraints make it impossible. Layla chuckles and presses the tip of the vibrator to my clit. It is too light to push me over the edge and I groan in frustration. She likes to make me wait for it, but I want her to fuck me right now.
“Please,” I moan, moving my head off the pillow. “Please fuck me.”
“How hard?” she asks, her voice hoarse with desire. She leans over and her breath caresses my ear. “How hard do you want it, Olive?”
“Hard,” I grunt. “Fuck me hard. Don’t hold back.”
She rams the dildo home, stretching me painfully. Almost immediately she pulls it out again, and rams it back even harder. Tears spring to my eyes and I cry out with each thrust. Layla increases her thrusts along with the pressure of the vibrator on my clit and I let go of everything. I close my eyes and let the waves of pleasure course through my body. There is nothing I can do, I let the climax raise me higher and higher and Layla lets me crest the wave, my body shaking and my cunt convulsing around the dildo. I can’t help the tears that flow into the pillow and a sob escapes me.
Immediately Layla is next to me, untying my hands and legs, massaging the rope marks. I can barely hold myself up and Layla lays me on my side, stroking my sweaty hair out of my face.
“Good girl,” she says. “You did really well.”
I am spent, empty and yet completely satisfied. My sobs turn into sighs and I take a deep breath.
“I am sorry.”
She shushes me. “There’s nothing to apologies for, you had an intense experience, that’s all.”
I lack the strength to sit up, so I remained cradled in her arms. “It was incredible.”
I feel the overwhelming urge to sleep and I close my eyes. Layla whispers something, but I am too far gone to catch the words. I drift off into darkness.