Properly Held — Part Three: The Performance Review
On control, confession, and what he’s been holding
This is Part Three of an ongoing series.
The story begins in Part One: What He Needed.
This installment marks the first paid chapter of Properly Held. Thank you for supporting this series and allowing me to continue writing it at this depth.
A couple of days had passed since our shared sexual epiphany. We had fallen asleep entwined and slept soundly together in a way we never had before. Both of us struggled with sleeping issues, but that night we fell asleep early, glued to each other, and awoke 10 hours later. Like we were both exhausted from holding on to things we didn’t know we needed to let go of. We woke up the next day feeling lighter, freer, and more connected.
David had to rush to San Francisco for a work emergency, but was finally coming home tonight. I couldn’t wait! The past three days had left me incredibly horny, so I channeled it all into work and random household projects.
Around 1pm, I got an alert on my phone: Ahmed has dropped off your Uber Eats order.
I finished work in my studio, and shut down for lunch. When I got to the front entry, Ahmed was already gone and the street was quiet. I catch a glimpse of the Ring camera and get an idea. I lifted up my t-shirt and flashed my breasts to the camera, then blew a kiss to Daddy, knowing he monitored the alerts when I was home alone. I giggled a bit as I put my shirt back in place. I looked down and saw a large FedEx package I hadn’t noticed before.
I picked it up and looked at the recipient: “Lucy Rose”. I didn’t recall ordering anything.
I carried the package and my food to the kitchen counter, closing the door with my foot. My phone buzzed against my thigh, revealing a text from Daddy: Naughty girl. Someone might need a spanking as a reminder of who those tits belong to. A smirk crossed my face; that may or may not have been my intention.
Before I could reply, another text arrived: I see that you got my package. Let’s see how well you can follow instructions. Biting my lip in curiosity, I dropped my phone and grabbed a box cutter to open the package. Inside, I found clothes and a note.
Dear Babygirl,
I want you to be wearing this when I come home. When you put this outfit on, you will no longer be my babygirl. You will be Simone, a professional consultant who is overly critical of my work. You will be in my office, ready for anything.
My thighs clenched instinctively. We had only role-played once or twice, but those times were my idea. He’d never taken the lead like this before.
I take one look at the outfit he selected and a devilish smile takes over my face. Oh Daddy, this is going to be fun!
I spent the afternoon getting ready for our scene. Daddy usually took the lead, meticulously crafting each moment to suit my needs, and I wanted to honor that effort. I laid out the outfit and decided to watch a TV show to help shape my portrayal of Simone. Being critical wasn’t in my nature; I preferred celebrating strengths over pointing out flaws. It’s part of why I struggled in the business world.
David and I met while working on a children’s educational app—he managed the engineering team while I designed the user experience. The chemistry between us was undeniable, leading to his proposition when he left to start his own company: a job or dinner. I chose dinner, and the rest is history.
I had enough tech knowledge to discuss his work intelligently, but today, I needed to suppress “babygirl” and embody someone else. As I got ready, I watched episodes of Ted Lasso, letting the fierce Rebecca Welton (my television crush) influence my mindset.
So 15 minutes before David was supposed to arrive, I was feeling almost ready. I was fully dressed, and I had to admit I looked fucking good. Standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, I appraised the outer shell of my Simone character. I had my hair pulled back into a tight, low ponytail which did a lot of work to make my normally “sweet” appearance look more severe. My makeup was simple and clean; a simple cat eye look with a pinkish-nude lip. There was a noticeable lack of glitter and gloss, but it was all part of my bitch-on-wheels look.
David, as I have to think of him today because he is NOT going to be my Daddy for this, has pretty good taste and knows my size very well. The cream silk blouse and skin tight pencil skirt were evidence of that, as they hugged my curves perfectly. I left a little more skin on display than was strictly professional, because this was a fantasy, so there were one (or two) scandalously undone buttons on the blouse, which allowed one to see my favorite assets. Said assets were scantily ensconced in a new bra which was included in the box. It matched the black lace thong and garter belt that hid beneath my professional wrapper.
A brand new pair of black silk stockings sheathed my shapely legs and lead to the last, most expensive piece of the outfit: the polished calf leather black platform mary-janes with a rounded toe and block heel. I couldn’t stop looking at them in the mirror; my first pair of Jimmy Choos.
They were so pretty! I had never been much of a fashionista, so designer shoes and purses were never something I thought much about. I’m used to getting clothes I think are pretty or cute, and that I wouldn’t mind getting resin or candle wax on. But if all designer shoes made me feel like this, I might have to expand my horizons a bit.
I was so nervous! I was so used to saying “yes” whenever Daddy, I mean David, asked me to do something. I had to squash that urge down so I could do what he asked me to do.
I shook my head to stop that unhelpful, and very confusing, train of thought. I looked at the clock and saw that I had 10 minutes until he came home. I took one last look, nodded in approval and headed down to his office.
I looked around the space. David’s office is huge. There’s a monstrous desk that is impeccably organized and has two large monitors. On the other side of the room there’s a large leather sofa. He uses this space for meetings quite often so it’s also outfitted with a small conference table and large screen TV. One wall has a large industrial style bookshelf filled with books and sports memorabilia. The other walls have an eclectic mix of music and sports posters.
Next to the couch was a small bar cart, and I realized that Simone would totally unwind with a glass of Scotch and so should I. Because I am Simone, obviously. Yes, scotch would be nice. I poured myself a finger or two and took a large sip which I immediately regretted. The smoky amber liquid burned my throat and I coughed. It didn’t take long though for the warmth to spread through my body; slowly relaxing me.
The liquid courage seeped into the cracks in my facade, bolstering my bad ass persona. I start to feel a little feisty. When I heard tires on the gravel in our driveway, I smirked to myself and get in position.
When David opened the door to his office, he saw me leaning back in his chair, behind his desk, with my gorgeous new shoes resting on an immaculately organized stack of papers.
He stood stock still in the doorway as he took in the sight. His face was ice but his eyes were engulfed in flame. He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off.
“It’s about time,” I said coolly. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting.” I smirked at him and brought my glass to my lips and took a sip. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your Scotch.”
I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as he stared silently at me.
David closed the door behind him with deliberate and intimidating calm; the click of the latch loud in the pregnant silence. He slowly walked to the couch where he put down his bag. My heart was pounding as I watched him stalk me with his gaze.
He looked me up and down and said flatly, “You’re in my seat.”
My thighs clenched. There was a slight quiver in my voice when I said, “Oh, really?” He smirked, his effect on me very obvious. I tried to regain some ground. I took the last sip of my Scotch and put the glass down on the desk. “That’s surprising. I would have thought a man of your reputation would have sprung for a real Eames chair, not a knockoff.”
His smirk morphed into something darker at that. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it behind him on the couch, all the while appraising me like the apex predator he is, and the effect on my body was immediate and inevitable. My legs visibly tightened on his desk. His eyes tracked the movement and then moved to my feet, unceremoniously disrupting his professional tableau. His jaw tightened.
I realized a little late that my cute little power move sitting in his chair was a miscalculation. He towered over me as he approached the desk and I immediately felt small and overpowered.
His hand hesitated momentarily before reaching for my feet, and throwing them forcefully off of his desk. They landed on the floor, and caused the reclining chair to slingshot me up towards him. His hands landed on the armrests on either side of me as he bent over me, caging me in.
He stared down at me with such fire I shrunk back, away from the heat. I swallowed meekly as I could feel my core throb at the danger surrounding me.
“You seem awfully comfortable for someone who is in my office,” he said mildly. The coolness of his voice was totally at odds with the heat in his gaze and the effect it had on me was overwhelming. I struggled to know where to take this next. I wish I had more Scotch.
“I could use a refill actually, if you’re offering.” I said, trying to channel some brattiness while also desperate for more courage. Every instinct inside me wanted to submit to him completely; to feel his strength overpower all of my senses. But I had to try fulfill this fantasy for him.
His gaze sharpened on me, and he actually smiled. His face is inches from mine as he says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Wouldn’t want you to do anything you’d regret.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not likely. And I don’t appreciate the implication that I can’t handle my liquor.” He looked at me; quietly assessing.
“Okay, Simone. I forgot, you roll with the big dogs,” he said as he leaned in closer, so close I could feel the heat in his breath on my skin. I held my own breath and shrunk back as I watched him get closer. I thought he was going to kiss me, and I licked my lips which were suddenly very dry. He smirked and then grabbed the empty glass behind me. He pushed off my chair and turned to the bar cart.
My breath left me in a long, shaky exhale as I tried to process the warring emotions of relief and disappointment at his quick withdrawal. I stood up finally and smoothed my shirt down as he poured two Scotchs for us.
When he turns back around, I see that his pour was much more generous than my initial one. He called my bluff. He held it out to me, daring me with his eyes.
I took it and we locked eyes in a battle of wills. We clinked glasses and both of us brought the glass to our lips. He downed his in one swallow, and smirked at me. He didn’t move. He glanced briefly at mine, looking like he didn’t think I’d do it too.
I tipped the glass back and opened my throat to take the fiery liquid all the way down. I suppressed the urge to make a face or cough, and eventually managed to get out a forced “mmm” sound. There was laughter, and maybe a bit of pride, in his eyes then, as if he knew how hard that was for me to do.
Suddenly I felt a little wobbly. I’m definitely not used to drinking so much hard liquor. I managed to stand still, but it took more effort than it did before.
He took the glasses and put them on the desk. He then stood very close to me, and forced me to look up at him.
“You’ve been speaking to me as if you’re in charge. That’s a rookie mistake.” He said, his voice steady and lethally calm. My insides melted.
I swallowed. “Is it?”
“It is,” he replied. “You are here because I requested this meeting. You work for me.”
I stood still, with no idea how to respond.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to review your performance. And you’re going to remember that you are only in this room because I am allowing it. Got it?”
My thighs clenched, and I gulped down some air. I nodded my head subtly, words failing me.
“And you’re going to button your top button. You look unprofessional. Now,” he added, glancing at the door, “start over. This time, knock.”
I froze momentarily. Eventually, I managed to put one foot in front of the other until I was outside of his office. I took a minute to gather myself. I’m not built for this kind of challenge. I leaned back against the door, sagging. I took a few deep breaths.
I haven’t seen him like this in years. He was incredibly self-possessed and in charge, and it reminded me of the boss that I met when we first started working together. I didn’t realize it but since then, this company has taken its toll on his confidence and has made him a lot more anxious. I loved seeing this side of him going toe-to-toe with me, but I honestly didn’t know how long I could keep this up for. I just wanted to drop to my knees and service him. There’s something freeing in submission and I’m used to that, but this resistance took more out of me than I thought it would.
My head was swimming; partly because of the whiskey and partly because of the torrent of thoughts I had battering me around. I stood straight and tried to derail that spiral before it started. I smoothed my clothes down and buttoned the top button like instructed.
Breathe.
Knock.
Wait.
It was only a moment before he said, “Come in.”
I opened the door and entered. I pulled my shoulders back and tried to summon Simone.
“Hello, David.” I said, sounding about as small as I feel right now.
“Hello, Simone. Come on in. You look nice.” He seemed like he wanted to start fresh, as he stood next to the conference table. He was sporting a look of smug satisfaction. Simone, or the Scotch, wanted to wipe that look off his face.
“I wish I could say the same for you, but you look tired.” I tried to say this confidently but it fell flat as I fidgeted with my skirt. He looked at me and I tried to interpret what was behind his eyes. There was a bit of awareness tinged with disappointment, like he wanted me to go further or push harder. I just didn’t know how. I looked down at my beautiful new shoes, as if they’d contain the answers. Help me, Jimmy Choo!
I didn’t see him approach but I felt his presence before his touch. His finger gently tilted my head up towards him. He smiled at me. It was a Daddy smile. It said, “good girl” without saying the words. I latch onto it as I smile back. The storm in my mind quieted ever so slightly.
“Bend over the table,” he commanded.
Any thought of resistance evaporated as I immediately complied. This is what I had been waiting for. I didn’t care if it was in character or not, I needed this. I bent over the conference table, facing the large screen TV.
“Since I called this meeting, I will set the agenda.” He stood behind me, and started to rub his hands over my backside. His hands skated up my back and I luxuriated in his touch. He was tentatively exploring and teasing. He stepped away for a moment.
“I know how you like to record meetings for reference. So I thought I would record this for you. I wouldn’t want you to forget any important lessons.” The TV flared to life and I see David’s office, with a woman bent over the conference table. It took a little longer than I’d like to admit for me to realize that the bent over office slut is actually me. The camera must have been across the table somewhere because I couldn’t see my face. I felt my core clench. David is standing behind me, possessively staring at my ass while planning what he’s going to do with it. I see a hint of his devilish plans as he looked up at the camera, which I see in his eyes boring into me on the screen.
This must be what dissociation feels like. I feel the physical sensations of my skirt sliding up my thighs slowly, while I watch David hungrily peel the skirt up on the slut on the screen. Fuck, it’s so hot.
“Do you know how long I’ve been thinking about this? Ever since you came into my office that first day, in your little skirt, with your big fucking mouth.” He said with devastating calm as he stares at my now bare ass, boldly fondling my flesh. My skirt is up around my hips, my thong and garter belt now visible.
For the first time that day, I actually realized that Simone is a real person. What’s wrong with me? All day, for me, she’s been a persona who resided in my imagination. But seeing the look on his face as he talked to this woman on the screen really made it click for me. She’s real, and he is a little obsessed with her. I expected to feel that bottomless pit of jealousy in my stomach, but instead I felt a just-as-intense feeling a little more to the south. He was exploring his need for another woman, without cheating, while allowing me to live out my fantasy in a safe way. God, it’s perfect.
I could see on the screen that he was alternating between looking at the camera, my ass, and the television screen. His fingers were getting rougher as they groped my body. He dropped one hand to my lace covered pussy and pressed firmly.
“Mmm, I’ve always known if I bent you over the desk or table, I’d find you soaked.” His finger slipped under my thong and entered me. I whimpered at the invasion. “Just waiting for me own you.”
He slipped my panties down my legs, the fresh air a balm to my soaked nether region. I saw on the screen that he brought them to his nose, took a big sniff, and put them in his pants pocket. He positioned himself behind me, and grinds on my ass while still fully clothed. The look of dominance and possessiveness on his face was almost feral and my pussy wept at the heat contained within it.
His hands roamed up to grip my hips possessively as he ground harder and pulled me into him. They continued their journey upwards; up my sides and then gripped my ponytail. He pulled me back up so I’m standing, my scalp on fire with the force of his pull. I can’t help but whimper just as he gripped my throat with his left hand. He squeezed, cutting off my air, standing behind me holding me immobilized. His right hand was free to explore and claim whatever he wanted.
His left hand tightened around my throat again, and twists his hand and my head so I’m facing the TV. With my head twisted that way, I couldn’t see my face and it still barely registered as me on the screen. David pulled me back slightly, which arched my back and pushed my breasts forward. He groped my chest over my shirt as he moaned.
“Such a pretty shirt. So professional,” he rumbled behind me, locking eyes with the camera and in turn burning into my psyche. His hand turned more insistent as he gripped the top button of my shirt above my breasts, and ripped it open with one strong yank. The physical shock and sight of it pooled in my core. I mewled.
“I like it better like this,” he growled in my ear.
His hand skated down south. He maintained eye contact with me through the screen, while his hand possessively roved underneath my skirt. His fingers teased my drenched cunt. He’s asserting dominance and reminding me of all the things he can do to me, and it’s insanely erotic to watch. The grip on my throat tightened again, and I instinctively reached up to grab his forearm to get some relief. The hand around my throat loosened and his other hand pulled it down and whipped me around to face him. He gripped my face and looked deeply into my eyes. It was disarming seeing them so close after just seeing them through the screen. My pussy quivered.
“You breathe when I want you to breathe. You don’t do anything without my permission. Got that, whore?” He said through clenched teeth. I nodded breathlessly.
“I don’t think you do. I’m going to have to teach you.” He pushed me back against the table. His eyes trailed downwards to my breasts and he looked at them hungrily. He picked me up and pushed me backwards so I’m sitting on the table. He steps between my legs and looks down at me. His hand roamed up my back and I thought he was going to kiss me. I closed my eyes and parted my lips, and was surprised when I felt my ponytail being pulled down. My head tilted back and my back arched.
“Watch the screen, slut.” I managed to twist my head enough to watch him maul my chest with his mouth. I feel him suck each nipple into his mouth as his free hand gripped the other. My pussy clenched forcefully at the sensation and the way it looked on the screen. My brain was convinced I was watching my man dominating some slut in the office, not me, and it was obscene.
He pushed me fully onto my back next, and spread my thighs. I watched him lick his lips and look into the camera immediately before devouring me. My back arched when his tongue lapped me from bottom to top. He licked the seam up and down several times before sucking my sensitive bud into his mouth.
One hand flew up to pinch my nipple and grope my chest, while the other sunk two fingers into my cunt. I cried out as an orgasm started to build quickly and crest...
Suddenly everything stopped. My brain took a few seconds to clear at the sudden cessation of touch and denied orgasm. I tried to focus my eyes on the screen to see where he went, and suddenly I felt a large hand grip my throat. He pulled me across the table so my head was almost off the edge on the opposite side. He held my throat in one hand and the back of my head in the other. He leaned down until he was a hairsbreadth away from my face.
“I told you I’m in charge here. You will come when I want you to come, you got that? I set the agenda today.” His eyes were wild and it made my core clench. His hands were almost shaking with restraint as he stood up to full height and removed the hand from my throat so he could rip open the zipper on his pants.
He struggled to open his fly, which was only inches away from my face. His slipping control and forceful actions were hinting at what was coming next and my pussy wept in anticipation. I licked my lips. He finally got his cock free and fisted it directly in my eye line.
He rubbed his cock all over my face as he looked down at me. He asked me, deliberately slow, “Do you remember the feedback you gave me on your first day?”
I looked up at him and shook my head. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and showed me a comment he had in a Notes file.
“Read this,” he growled.
I looked up at him and the look on his face brooked no argument. He held the phone in front of me so I could read. I said meekly, “You sound like someone who is used to being the smartest person in the roo....”
Before I could finish the “mm” in “room”, his cock pushed past my lips. Slowly but forcefully; in control, as if he was taking his time to enjoy this moment.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this ever since you opened your mouth that day.” He moans as he pushes his thick, long cock to the back of my throat. Now that his cock is fully seated in my mouth, his free hand moves to the back of my head where he uses my ponytail to steer my mouth for his use.
I get a sense of dèjá vu as I remember a fantasy exactly like this from when David and I first met as colleagues. I had such a crush on him and every time I saw him command a meeting, I would spend most of that time imagining him using me in filthy ways all over the conference room. We never got to act on it, because we tried to keep our work and personal lives separate. This was also the first time I had gotten close to the level of violence and abuse I fantasized about back then. We fuck hard normally, but this was a new level and I was hooked.
I’m brought back into my body as his tempo started to pick up. He firmly held my head exactly the way he wants so he can watch his cock drill in and out of my mouth. Saliva is dripping down from my mouth as he takes his frustration out on my head.
My senses were overwhelmed with the physical sensations, including hearing the “gluk gluk gluk” sounds his cock made when he hit the back of my throat, that I didn’t realize that he was talking.
“...as if it was an accident. I didn’t build this company by playing dumb to make other people comfortable.” He punctuated each word with a thrust in to my mouth. “I am where I am because I have been the smartest person in most rooms.”
He thrusted balls deep into my mouth one more time, his cock pushing past my gag reflex and entering my throat. He held it in place while he threw his head back in pleasure and moaned. I loved seeing him lose control. Then he switched his stance again. The hand on the bottom of my head holds my head by the ponytail as his other hand reached down to my dripping cunt.
He hooked two fingers inside me as he fucked my face, as if to remind me that my holes belong to him and he could use them whenever he wanted. He slipped a third finger inside me and used his fingers in me for more leverage as he controlled my body to meet his ideal facefucking position. My pussy was being stretched and I felt so full. Every time he thrusted into my throat he pushed deeper, like he was trying to reach new depths of my submission.
“Goddamn Simone, you take this cock so fucking well. This is what your mouth should be used for.” He suddenly kicked his left foot over my head to the table as he tilted my head so he was drilling deeper into my throat. “Oh fuck, yeah baby. That’s the spot. Fuck.”
He pulled his cock out of my mouth for a moment as I coughed and tried to catch my breath.
