I heard the front door of my law office open and close. The clock said 5;35 p.m.–not quite quitting time. I registered the brief animated conversation between my secretary Penny, and Delta Ann Rucker, my former client. I hustled to complete the last paragraph on the brief, I had due tomorrow. Penny’s excited East Texas twang contrasted nicely with Delta’s liquid contralto. Laughter rippled forth from the front room, more evidence that both women genuinely enjoyed one another’s company. I closed the file and the program and sent the brief to Penny to proof. It was all over anyway. The moment Dell walked in any prospect of doing serious work went out the window.

“I’m taking Winnie to little league,” Penny yelled.

“Fine, see you tomorrow,” I yelled back. I’d hired Penny years ago out of college primarily because she was perky and very friendly on the eyes. Golden blonde, with elfin looks and an athletic figure, she’d won me over with a smile. What an idiot! I had quite accidentally hired the best legal secretary and office manager in the history of legal secretaries and office managers. There was not a single detail that escaped her. She had seen me through the death of my wife Dorothy from cancer and helped pick me up off the floor, both figuratively and, on occasion, literally. She had a job with me for life.

Penny knew to smoothly disappear when Dell showed up. I had never said anything. Dell certainly hadn’t either. Penny just knew her continued presence wouldn’t be appreciated in the way a lineman knows not to get too close to the transmission wire. Way too much crackling energy. Though she had been a client for some time, Dell was not coming to my office for legal advice. Dell was coming to make an installment payment on her bill–an in-kind payment.

My cock began to swell, and an anticipatory ache spread through my crotch. Dell’s stiletto pumps called out click, click, click, clack, as she slowly down the hallway towards the back of the building and my office. My mind oscillated from sexual fantasy to useless inanities. I envisioned her hips swaying back and forth as she walked away from me, marveling in my mind’s eye at the strength and firmness of those fine orbs, just as I had when I stole peeks at them the first time I ‘d met her. These prurient thoughts were chased by I’d heard that tip of a stiletto exerts more pressure than an elephant’s footor was it an alligator’s tooth? I’ll never understand my own mind, much less others’.

I looked at my hands as they hovered over the keyboard. They trembled, of course. They always did when Ms. Rucker came around.

“Good afternoon Mr. Betts,” Dell said as she stood in the door to my office. “I’m here to make another payment on my bill.” Dell did not owe me a penny–never had. This “installment fee” thing she had dreamt up was completely imaginary, a construct of Dell’s mind that I was at first too perplexed to fully understand, then just too plain grateful to refuse.

“Have a seat on the couch,” I said curtly, not bothering to look away from my computer screen. The persona that I put on during these recent sessions with Dell felt so odd and out of whack. I was not completely certain where Dell and I stood. I either loved her, or at least lusted for her with a constant and caring obsession that was very akin to love. She had come to occupy my thoughts both day and night. Though her own feelings were doubtless still mired in a haze of uncertainty caused by a seventeen-year long hellish marriage, Dell seemed to reciprocate. And despite the strong feelings we had for one another, we never quite took a typical approach to love and sex. Dell liked…no, “liked” was far too mild a word–demanded that we execute her unusual fantasy of a desperate deal and the control it evoked to feel comfortable laying with me.

I was, by nature, a boy scout, I always had been. My folks raised me to get up on time, make my bed, do my chores, be kind to my pets, take responsibility when I screwed up, and to expect the same in others–even if I didn’t get it. But this bombshell of a woman had come into my life with her own story, twisted though it was. I had come to appreciate how different her history was from mine and to relate to her on her terms. So, I suppressed my urge to hug her tight and stayed in role.

She was magnificent, as always, so stunning that I had to consciously override my institutionally panicked disbelief that she had voluntarily chosen to be with me. She was tall, at least 5′ 10,” maybe more, with hair so silky black that it looked blue. Her skin had an olive tint, perhaps from a long-distant gypsy background. Her eyes were dark brown and wide set above high cheek bones and a heart-shaped jaw line. Her lips were full, and sensuous. Just a gorgeous woman.

Today she wore her work uniform, except that it was not her real work uniform. It was special outfit she’d created just for me, made of typical uniform material, but tailored to be extraordinarily tight, emphasizing the enormity of her chest, the dramatic narrowing of her waist and flowering of her hips. The top three buttons of the uniform were undone, exposing nearly a third of her gorgeous breasts. Penny had seen that. No wonder she bugged out. The skirt was so short that had Dell not kept her legs crossed, she would have shamelessly flashed her pussy just by sitting up normally.

“I suppose you feel you deserve to cum today?” I challenged.

“Sir, I’ve come to make the fifth payment on my bill. That’s all that matters. Eight sessions…that was our agreement. I keep my word,” she concluded. Total myth I thought, and yet she acted as if ours was a contract chiseled in granite.

“Don’t lie to me Dell,” I answered, “I’ve told you before how important it is for a client to be completely honest and open with her lawyer.”

“I was hoping so sir,” she replied after a pause. “I’ve been good, and I’ve been completely faithful and…it has been almost a month since I was permitted the last one.”

“You think you have been good?” I asked.

“Yes,” Dell replied anxiously.

I shook my head in mock disbelief. “Tell me Dell, did I see you in the parking lot of the grocery just two days ago having a conversation with Bill George?”

Dell lowered her eyes to her feet and flattened the top of her skirt anxiously with her hands.

“It didn’t mean anything,” she said looking up. “He’s in our church. He was going in and I was going out right past him. It would have been awkward if I hadn’t talked to him.”

“But you did much more than say hello, didn’t you?” I asked. “You actively flirted with him Dell. You were preening for him like a high school freshman girl. Anyone could see it, and I certainly did.” Dell said nothing but continued to stare at her skirt. Privately, Dell had always felt that Bill George was insanely handsome, a little cross between Tom Selleck and the Marlboro Man, so the questions struck a guilty chord in her, as if a private shame had been plucked out of her head and left to wriggle on the floor for all to see.

“You concede, don’t you, that your inability to exercise control over your sex drive has dealt you a severe injury in the past, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You agree that you must learn to exercise greater self-control over your sex, do you not?” I asked.

“I do,” Dell responded.

“How am I supposed to teach you self-control if you are unwilling to exercise any?” I chided gently.

“I don’t know, sir,” she replied.

“You do know what the good Deacon wants don’t you Dell? You must know that. He’ll smile at you and chat cordially about church and this and that, but if the circumstances permitted him to do so without any negative consequences, he would breed you just like one of those heifers he is so proud of. He has a big spread. He could take you to some back corner of his place and you know what he’d do don’t you?” I asked.

“No Sir,” she responded.

“Ha! I scoffed. You know damned good and well what he’d do. He’d rip your top off whether you liked it or not, probably because he knew you’d like it, then he’d bend you over the tailgate of his truck or maybe a bale of hay, yank your panties down and strum you with that cock of his until you were a humping defenseless mess.”

I paused, watching the wheels turn in her head. “You understand that don’t you?” I asked.

Dell said nothing, but I knew that the image I’d crafted would secretly excite her. I’d been thinking about this interlude for days since seeing the two together in the parking lot. There really was a connection there, but Dell would sooner die than shame Josephine George that way.

The thought hit home with Dell like a truck. She quickly imagined a quiet corner of Bill’s ranch, maybe behind the big live oaks near one of the stock tanks. She would park on the little dirt road that ran behind their place, hiding her little Toyota out of the way of wandering eyes. Bill picked her up just on the other side of the fence. He had her sit next to him like they were high schoolers as he drove to the most remote section of the ranch and had played with her twat all the way out to his hideout. She imagined being hot and ready for him. They kissed feverishly when they reached the grove before Bill broke it off and walked her around to the back of the truck before yanking at her shirt so hard the buttons popped off. He pulled her bra off and used the massive thing to tie, her hands behind her. He pushed her top down so that her breasts stretched out over the dirty rough tailgate. In her imagination, she could hear Bill behind her, unzipping his fly, then gripping her hips and giving his all into her, spanking her harshly as he went. With great willpower, she extinguished the thought from her head, but not before her quim grew hot and wet.

“It’s all about control Dell, something you show very little of,” I said. Then, after a long pause I added, “you’re wet right now aren’t you, just from us having this discussion?” I asked.

Dell said nothing and continued to stare at her dress.

“Yes…sir,” she mumbled.

“Sopping wet?” I challenged.

“I don’t know, sir,” she responded shyly. I could spend a lifetime uncovering this woman’s layers, I thought. How the little conversation we’d had so far could possibly trigger this level of sexually excitement I did not know. But I swore to myself to find out.

“Spread your legs,” I instructed. “Reach in with two fingers and pull them through that slit of yours. Hold them up to me. Show me. Show me whether you have any control over that pussy of yours” I ordered.

Dell looked briefly down the hallway, checking to make sure Penny had left. She laid her purse down at her feet, then took her hands and raised her skirt. She was wearing an electric blue pair of hose suspended from a garter of the same color along with tiny little thong–just as I had instructed. She scooted her bottom out until it sat on the very edge of the couch, propped a pillow under her back, leaned back and spread her legs wide. I knew my answer before Dell reached in to take her sample. The light blue thong had turned to dark navy between her legs.

Dell slowly inserted two fingers under the elastic band of the little garment, then trailed them down until the fingers resided insider her quim. She dug deep to take a good sample and held her hand up to me. Her index and middle finger glistened with her juice, so much of it that a little droplet formed at the end of one of her fingernails.

“Tsssk, tsk, tsk,” I began, “not one ounce of control. Just a casual conversation about another man’s desire for you, and now you’re in heat. Clearly, you need additional training of the most serious kind. Your presence here and complete and obedient participation will serve as full payment of your fifth installment, whether I permit you to orgasm or not.”

“Thank you, sir.” She replied.

“It was our deal” I responded, “you’ll get nothing more than you earn.”

“Assume the position against the window,” I instructed.

“The window?” Dell asked hesitantly, clearly taken aback by my command. This was new. Our previous sessions in my office were from the couch. There I could close the door to my office, and we both had at least a chance of escaping detection, either from the front road or the side. But my windows were another matter. They looked directly out onto a pine-forested lot to the East of my office. A road ran along the backside of it with plenty of gaps in the foliage where we could be seen. The windows on that side of my office were huge–a storefront door-type, with a full door-sized window in the middle and two window panels on each side. If a driver were curious enough, and just happened to notice Dell’s backlit figure in the window, she would be fully exposed.

“The window,” I repeated. “Do we have an issue Ms. Rucker?”

“No sir, we do not,” she replied. She unwound her long frame and stood up from the couch, her heavy breasts swinging down slightly as she leveraged herself off the couch. She walked across my office slowly, placed her hands up flat against the window above her shoulders, spread her legs and turned to look at me over her shoulder. She then lowered herself slowly until her knees landed on the doormat.

“Look away,” I instructed. I needn’t have issued the instruction. Dell was so nervous that someone would come down the road that her eyes were locked on it. I took my time unlocking the credenza door behind my desk and rolling open the big drawer. The sound conveyed meaning to Dell. She knew what was in the drawer. She knew what was about to happen to her because, after all, she had asked for it by name. In the bottom of the drawer, amongst old files and legal articles, sat a metal bar with cuffs on each end, an old-style metal fishing tackle box with a small, keyed lock, and a black strappy paddle. I lifted the short spreader bar out of the drawer, knelt behind Dell, and attached the cuff on each end to her knees. Her pussy would now stay open, and vulnerable, to anything I wanted to do to it, just as Dell wished. The effort brought my face within inches above her lovely quim, and I could smell her hot sex as it oozed into her tight little thong. It was all I could do not to press my face into her thighs or backside and nip her.

I stood back up and pulled the tackle box out of the drawer, careful to scrape it against the top of the drawer for emphasis. Dell flinched from the sound just as I knew she would. I popped the box open and withdrew the long chain anchored by alligator clips at each end, laying it on the desk. Dell looked back at me nervously. I reached into the box and rustled around needlessly to make a racket, then extracted four large lug nuts, the big kind used on farm machinery, plenty wide openings in the middle of each, and plenty hefty.

“Undo your top,” I instructed. Dell dropped her hands to her chest and undid buttons until the front of her uniform was wide open. The electric blue bra beneath the pale, yellow uniform was a testament to the surprising firmness of her bosom. It was no more than a half-cup, offering little support, but exposing the upper half of her gorgeous breasts to the air above and leaving just a darkened hint of nipple below the lace. Despite the flimsy structure of the garment, and the ample size of Dell’s tits, they sat firm and high, her excitement betrayed by her veins, dull blue bolts of lightning that coursed under her skin. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out over Dell’s chest. My air conditioning automatically cut off at 5;30 each day, and it didn’t take long for the Southeast Texas sun to drive the temperature up. Dell did the rest.

I lifted the uniform up and off her, throwing it over the back of a nearby chair. “Undo the bra,” I instructed. Dell deftly reached behind her to uncouple the snaps. Her breasts fell free, and Dell handed me the flimsy garment while she searched anxiously for traffic coming down the road.

“What would you like me to do now Dell?” I asked.

“Anything you want, Sir,” Dell answered.

“Anything?” I asked challengingly.

“Anything,” Dell reaffirmed.

“Do you think you can handle that, Dell?” I asked. “Do you think you can take a cock in the ass and still stay under control.”

“Yes Sir,” she replied.

“I don’t think so Dell, but if you’re lucky enough to get a cock in the ass, then we’ll see, won’t we?” I responded, but Dell said nothing.

“And what if I want nothing at all, then, is that what you want?” I asked.

This took Dell aback, for the last thing on earth she expected for me to do was refrain from sampling the proffered goods.

“If…that’s what you want…Sir,” Dell replied.

I kneeled behind her and gripped the nipple of her right breast in my hand, rolling the bud between the tip on my index finger and thumb. Her breasts were perfectly round, so much so that I wrongly supposed she’d been augmented. Her areola was dark and nearly the size of the mouth of a coffee cup. The areola puffed out from her breasts and were capped with eraser sized nipples. Delicious.

“Ahhhh,” Dell sighed as she leaned her head back against my shoulder. Harder and harder I continued working the nipple until she winced and drew in her breath from the pain. I repeated the procedure on her left tit, then spanked her tits back and forth, lightly at first then with increasing vigor, until the nipples were fully engorged with blood and the skin around her areola began to pink.

Reaching back to the desk, I took up the nipple clips and lapped them over her shoulder so that the chain banged into her. She winced and drew back.

Without comment, I reached around her and pulled her right nipple away from her right breast and attached the clip to it, letting it go so that the chain to dangled back and forth from the nipple. The weight of the heavy chain alone distended her nipple and Dell drew in her breath, dipping her right shoulder in response to the pain. After a moment, she righted.

I grabbed the other end of the chain and threaded four heavy lug-nuts onto it, one-by-one, pausing after each to allow Dell to adjust to the additional tension–and pain. With each addition Dell winced, but after a short while she also moved her hips forward in a slow, nearly imperceptible humping motion, betraying that the pain was being re-routed directly to her clit. I attached the left clip to her left nipple and let the assembly dangle between the two massive orbs. Now both nipples were very cruelly stretched, abused nearly to the breaking point. Dell struggled for breath as she brought her pain under control. It was time to match that pain with a distracting pleasure.

I pulled Dell’s hair out of the way and kissed the back of her neck, rounding to her left ear and nipping at the flesh along the way. I had learned that Dell’s neck and upper back were an extremely sensitive erogenous zone for Dell, nearly as powerful as her clit. I backed away and surveyed her. The sweat had started to bead on her forehead and in the valley between her breasts.

“Lean forward,” I ordered. Dell leaned forward slightly until the metal clips tapped against the window. I reached between her legs and lightly strummed my fingers over the little thong that sparsely covered her snatch. She bolted upright further then ground her pussy down against my light touch.

“You’re slick with your own juice now, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Yes…. sir I am wet,” Del responded.

“When I told you what Bill George wanted to do to you, you started to fantasize about it, didn’t you?” I asked. “You didn’t have the self-control even to shut that out of your mind, did you?”