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Message-ID: <38630asstr$1033679403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: cyan@protgp.com
Subject: {ASSM} Story: Our Needs
Date: Thu,  3 Oct 2002 17:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Hi all,

I hope you enjoyed my previous story, *Any Time*.  Here's another.

Enjoy!

-Cy
http://cyan.protgp.com/


Our Needs
by Cyan
Copyright 2002 by Cyan

*I know how to handle her,* I told myself as Casey walked in.
Fifteen minutes late for work and I detected no trace of remorse,
almost defiance.  Casey was the key, I'd figured out; get her in
line and everything would follow.  It was my first day, now that
George was out of the picture.  The settlement had been complicated,
but I'd been surprised at George's relatively quick acceptance of
my proposal that I buy him out.  That left me with not quite all
the assets a divorced wife usually receives not to mention couple
of payments due to him out of future revenue.  And of course it
left me with the sudden job of running the show.

Casey.  As nervous as I felt at what was obviously to be a key
moment, I knew I was enough of an actress not to let it show.  And I
knew well that the tone I set at this moment would have implications.
I thought briefly of how George might have managed Casey, then
quickly suppressed the thought given the things I might not have
been aware of.  Sure, she was twenty five, but I instinctively knew
the experience I'd gained as a high school teacher was exactly
what I needed, even if I hadn't seen a classroom for some time.
I surreptitiously took a breath, then dove in.

"I expect you here at 9AM," I said, without looking up from my desk.
She said nothing and I pretended to work for a few more seconds,
then looked up at her.  "Black, if you please," I said, handing
her my coffee mug.

I was completely matter-of-fact.  I knew it couldn't be performed
much better, but for all my acting, she made no move and we simply
looked at each other.  And if anything, she wore a slight smile,
as if amused.

My heart was beating and I knew I wasn't home yet.  "Is there
a problem?"  I asked.

Still we stared at each other and I felt nerves overtaking me.
The problem was she didn't look like this was bothering her in the
slightest, and I knew I needed to say something even if to do so
was a defeat of sorts.  "I need an assistant I can depend upon,"
I said, pitching my voice as serious, but also with a hint that if
Casey didn't shape up, that she was out.

If anything, her smile grew, but only for a brief moment.  Then,
still wearing that slight smirk, she finally spoke.  "Let me tell
you what you need," she said.  "You need an assistant who knows
your business, especially the aspects that you haven't mastered yet.
You need an assistant who knows the deals in progress and the leads
we are working on.  You need an assistant who can get you up to speed
on the finances.  You need an assistant who can keep the payroll
and finances functioning this week and next.  You need an assistant
who knows the passwords that you don't.  You need an assistant that
has your employees' trust and who is loyal to you, and backs you
through thick and thin.  In short, you need an assistant who can
pull you through until you get those payments made lest George
end up with everything, which you know could very well happen.
And you need such an assistant even if she happens to have two job
offers from your competitors on her desk at this very moment."

When she stopped talking, we were once again left staring at
each other.  Unlike earlier, she now looked completely serious.
I mentally cataloged each of her points.  And it was with a sinking
feeling that I knew I had to agree with every single one of them.
"Now let me tell you about what *I* need," she said.  I briefly
thought I saw just a hint of the smile return, but then she was
serious again.  "*I* need you to show me some respect."

"I do..."

"I also need silence," she cut in, suddenly her voice more sharp.
I realized I'd started to talk without thinking, that nerves were
ruling me again, but I was also stunned by the way she'd cut me off.
I'm sure I sat there with my mouth hanging open.  She still held
my eye.  Then she spoke more slowly, seemingly calm, but carefully.
"I'll tell you exactly what I require," she said.

Again, silence.  Every sense told me this wasn't good.  I felt
the need to say something but couldn't be sure what it should be.
Finally, without moving a muscle, she spoke again.  "I need you on
the floor, on your knees."

I stared in amazement.  Her eyes never left mine.  "Casey..."

"Silence?" she asked, in a slightly sarcastic tone.  Then she simply
held my eyes.

Somehow I couldn't look away.  We stared at each other, for what
seemed almost like a minute.  I couldn't believe the tension I felt.
Finally she moved, a little shrug.  Humor awoke on her face, and
she turned to leave.  "If I leave this room now, it's for good,"
she said.

Every single one of her points flew through my head again.  "No!" I
said quickly.

She turned back to me, her eyebrows showing question.

I had no idea what to do, but I didn't let another tortuous
minute pass.  I thought about what she said, the company going
into confusion, being unable to pay George.  There was absolutely
no way I could let *that* happen.

And as if my body were doing its own thing, I observed myself slip
out of my chair.  I looked up at her.  From my knees.

I'm sure this time she didn't smile, not in the least, but she
turned and shut the door.  And locked it.  "On your hands and knees,"
she said.

"Casey..."

"And silent."

Slowly I obeyed.  Yes, that's the word, I obeyed, I swallowed
every bit of self respect and did as she asked.  "Good," she said.
"Now, I need you to slip your pants down to your knees."

*This can't be happening.*  I found myself repeating the phrase
mentally, over and over.  Here I was, on hands and knees, looking at
a spot on the floor in front of Casey's feet, and she was ordering
me to push my pants down.  And I could see no other course.
"I need it *right now*," she added.

I lifted one hand and started undoing them.  What was she up to?
Why was she doing this?  It seemed like a sort of childish
retribution, simply a play to humiliate me completely.  But there
was no other course.  None.  "Please..."

"Silence."  Her voice was no louder and was perfectly calm, but
ever-so- controlled.  Still staring at the floor, I got them undone.
*I could lose the company,* I told myself.  I pushed them down as
she said.  "Your underpants," she added.

It was too much.  It was outright humiliation, pure and simple.
I couldn't believe it of Casey, we'd always gotten along all right
and I was sure she couldn't have been aware of any suspicions
I'd harbored.  "The underpants?" she asked.

"I can't," I said, weakly.

"You will," she answered, that same calm, controlled voice.  "Now."

I was frozen for another second, but then the fear got hold of me
again and paralyzed as I felt, I made myself move.  And uncovered
myself.

For a moment, nothing.  I still stared at that spot on the floor,
on hands and knees, my pants and underpants down.  Finally she
moved, walking slowly around me.  I wanted so much to sink through
the floor.  How could this have come about?

When she reached her position in front of me again, I heard her
go into a drawer.  It reminded me that she knew where everything
was and I didn't.  I was so frightened, so embarrassed.  Then she
moved behind me.  And knelt down behind me.  And touched my rear.
"Hold perfectly still," she said.

"Casey..." I said, startled.

"Sh," she said quickly.  Her finger found my anus and began to press.
And I felt a wetness.  "Perfectly silent," she said.  "But relax
your rear."

I couldn't believe it, what she was demanding.  The finger sat right
on my anus, as if waiting.  She wiggled it slightly.  "Did you hear
me?" she said.  Her voice sounded not quite so calm.

"Yes," I said quickly.

*How can I be doing this?*  I needed to stop this.  "If you like,
we can stop this," she said, as if reading my mind.  "But you know
what that means."

Then she said no more.  It was as if she were waiting.  As she'd
waited before, for my acquiescence, now she was waiting again.
I found myself trying to do it, to obey.  Her finger slipped in.
She slipped it out, then slipped it in again in a couple of seconds.
I felt the wetness.  Then I felt more, as if another finger.
And another.

Then they were gone.  But only to be replaced by something larger,
pressing against my anus.  "No," I whispered.

"Your choice," she whispered back.

It couldn't be happening.  Her hands were on my hips and I had a
full image of what she was doing.  The idea of Casey doing this, it
completely boggled my mind even though I'd always sensed something
in her just a little bit-- different.  And the slight strain in
our relations.  "Make your choice," she said.

In thirty seconds, it slid in.  I felt her crotch bump my rear.
I thought of all the years I'd avoided this, with George, and
before that with some of my more imaginative boyfriends.  And now,
to so quickly succumb.  And to a woman, and to Casey!  I felt her
begin to slide it in and out.  I wanted to die of embarrassment.
"Just what you need," she said.  "I always told George."

I might have contemplated what she was saying but the sensations
of the thing sliding in and out of me had my full attention.
Here I was, letting this veritable girl, this twenty-five-year-old,
do my rear.  Fingers reached around and touched my sex.  "Wet,"
she said, and I almost died at the amusement in her voice.
"Perhaps our needs are not so different after all."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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