From the Top Shelf - F/m

Under Duress by Nick Aymes is the story of a sexy woman who investigates a suspicious set of circumstances in the horseracing world. It is one in a series of thinly-disguised sex and spanking novels by the author, all with a racing theme. This excerpt has an interesting twist.

Sam Smoult hit the switch on the intercom. "Miss Fisher," he muttered impatiently, "I've got a hard-on."

Shelley Fisher snapped shut the book she was reading and reached for her lipstick. She peeped into her small vanity mirror. "I'll be right with you, sir," she drawled.

Inside his office, she paused. He was busily scribbling at his desk and didn't so much as glance when she entered. Certainly, he gave no indication that he was a man eager for sex - maybe he'd gone off the idea. Shelley knew better. It was a game they played. By pretending to be busy, he was telling her that he wanted to be pleasured while he worked.

She swayed sensually towards him but his head remained bowed... She stood for a brief moment, posing before his desk. He didn't look at her. It was as if she wasn't there. She hitched her skirt up and, falling to her knees, began to crawl under the desk. She would pleasure him while he busied himself with pen and paper... She rather enjoyed it - she delighted in feeling subservient once in a while...

Unzipping him, she found he had, indeed, got a hard-on. Her fingers closed over the tip... Running her tongue over her lipstick-reddened lips, she slid the pulsing member into her open mouth... A ripple of amusement ran through her as she thought of the lipstick she'd applied so carefully now smearing him... Then she heard the intercom.

"Mrs Tompkin, I want you in my office immediately."

Clare Tompkin was a computer operator who supplied him with sales information. But it wasn't information he wanted from her now, he wanted her physical presence in the office while Shelley was under the desk pleasuring him. The bastard, she thought. He was getting off on embarrassing her. She watched the woman's legs as she minced with small steps across the room. The high heels came to rest less than two feet from where she was hidden.

Shelley hardly dared breathe for fear of being discovered. Clare would have it around the building faster than a forest fire... Her temper rose - she'd have her revenge. She slipped his member back into her mouth and dug her sharp teeth into it. Deliberately, she gnawed until he flinched... She felt him wince and tried to imagine the expression on his face. She heard him interrupt the woman's report.

"That's all, Mrs Tompkin, leave those figures with me."

Shelley watched the nylon-clad legs disappear. "You bastard, Sam Smoult," she screamed, "you'll pay for that."

She heard him laugh. He'd obviously enjoyed her discomfort. She scrambled to her feet, pushing his swivel chair backward. "You've gone too far this time," she spat at him.

"I'm sorry, Shelley. I really am."

"So you should be."

He couldn't help grinning. He'd never seen her angry before. It was a side of her she'd never shown. She stood threateningly over him, hands on hips, her long black hair falling in disarray around her beautiful face. Seeing her like that made him even randier. He desperately wanted to be back in her warm wet mouth...

But Shelley didn't have anything like that in mind. Instead of falling on her knees, she dragged him bodily out of the chair and took her place in his comfortable seat. He went along with her, full of curiosity, wondering what she had in mind. He hadn't long to wait.
"Let's have those pants down," she snapped, as she grabbed at the waistband.

With one quick jerk, she had them around his ankles. He began to feel a bit silly. Yet, his humiliation had hardly begun. She reached forward and, grabbing his arms, dragged him toward her. He felt himself pulled downward.

"Get over my knee, Sam. You're the one who's going to be embarrassed now."

He found himself in the not-too-unpleasant position of lying over the lady's knees. Her skirt had ridden up, so the flesh of his naked belly rubbed against her nylon-covered legs. The contact made his cock swell. She spotted it instantly.

"Oh, no. You're not here to get yourself off. You're here to be soundly walloped."

No sooner said than done. Her small hand began to fall rhythmically onto his backside. After half a dozen resounding whacks, she began to wonder whether she'd done right. His shanks were thin and bony, her hand hurt. She persevered with a few more hearty wallops before pushing him away. He stood facing her like a small boy, his trousers around his knees, his cock sticking out like a loaded pistol. She realized she'd hurt her hand a lot more than his bum. Still, it'd been worth it, just to show him what she was made of. She straightened her skirt nervously, wriggling it down over her hips.

"It's no use pointing that thing at me. It's had its rations for today."

"Come on, Shelley. You've had your revenge."

She stalked purposefully toward the door. "No dice," she cried.

"Miss Fisher, you can't leave me like this."

She paused at the door. "I'll send for one of those inflatable dolls," she giggled. "What do you fancy, blonde or brunette?"