Chapter 4

My mission was to make myself cum within thirty minutes. Twenty-five minutes now, actually. Still doable. All I needed was five. All I had to do was drown out all the noises of my anxiety. I’m good at that. I’m good at focusing when I need to focus.

I closed my eyes. Breathed deeply. Think sexy thoughts, I muttered to myself. Don’t think about the fact that I’m at work. Don’t think about the people passing by in the hallway, their muffled footsteps growing louder than softer as they pass. Don’t think about the time. It doesn’t take that long if I have the right mindset. Think only sexy thoughts. Think of Rika. Picture her holding my panties against her cheek, sniffing it while pleasuring herself in this very room.

I slid my hand into my skirt. It was jarring to feel no underwear covering my pussy.

My legs were as far apart as my constrictive pencil skirt allowed them to be. I slid my fingers over my pussy. I needed some more lube to prime me. So, I moistened my fingers with spit and slid them down there again.

It was only last night that I was ready to throw that collar out in the trash. That would have been the smart thing to do. But lo and behold – today, not only was I wearing the cursed collar to work, but I had also given up my panties to my boss’s secretary, and now, I was fingering myself in a meeting room. Never had I ever put myself in such a compromising position. Never had someone had such power over me.

My pussy tightened up. My clit hardened and emerged from its hood. I rubbed a little faster. How terrible that it made me so, so hot.

My problem now was that my damn skirt was too tight. It was too constrictive. I couldn’t get a good rhythm with my fingers down there. I looked at the time on my smartphone — fifteen minutes left!

I unbuttoned my skirt, hiked the hem up my thighs as far as it would go, then propped my knees up against the edge of the table. That was better. That gave me more room for my hand. The only problem is, if anyone walked through the door now, I didn’t know if I would have enough time to bring my legs down from that position. They’d get the full glimpse of my pussy. I needed to hurry. I needed to cum. I moistened my fingers again with spit. I tasted my sex on them. I closed my eyes and rubbed my fingers in a vigorous circular motion around my clit. Did Rika really pleasure herself? Did my panties really throw her into such a horny mood? That kinky little slut… But what does that make me?

The first intense waves rushed through my body, causing me to jolt. I uttered an involuntary moan. My thighs began to quiver. I rubbed myself more vigorously. I was getting there. I glanced at my smartphone again — only five minutes left. I can’t fail!

I used my other hand to penetrate my vagina while I kept rubbing. I curled my finger in and pumped. I started to imagine what Rika would have me do next. If I behaved, she would reward me, wouldn’t she? I wondered what I would get as a reward? Another tremendous wave as I rubbed my clit and pumped my finger in and out. My vagina loosened, so I squeezed in another finger.

Rika would have liked to watch. She’d get so hot. I bet she’d enjoy licking my wet pussy, that dirty slut. I pictured her head between my thighs, her naughty brown Bushido eyes gazing dauntlessly into mine as she licked me to the edge of the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.

My muscles tightened up. My thighs quivered, and my toes curled up as the waves of pleasure came faster and faster. I squealed. I tightened into a ball and nearly shook myself off the chair as the final wave finally overtook me. My warm sex gushed around my fingers. Oh Fuck. Oh God. I just squirted!

I glanced at my smartphone. My stomach lurched. Two minutes until the next meeting. Two minutes left and I was a ragged, sticky, sex-strewn mess.

Quickly I reached into my purse and grabbed a bunch of tissue. I wiped my fingers, then I wiped my pussy clean. Fortunately, it wasn’t as messy as I had imagined. I didn’t get any on the chair.

A knock came at the door just as I finished wiping up. I shoved the dirty tissues into my purse, clapped my laptop shut, and ran to the door, gasping and sweat beading on my forehead. My eyes widened when I opened the door, and my heart dropped into my gut. The woman that stood on the other side was Yuriko Tanaka. A senior partner and someone that I looked up to and that I aspired to be. Oh no. She was about to meet with her clients in the room that I had just fucked myself silly in.

She gave me a perplexed look, which grew into a look of bemusement. She knows, I thought. She fucking knows! If my messy appearance didn’t make it obvious, the smell certainly did. I groaned internally. A part of my soul left my body.

Of course, she didn’t say anything. She only kept her smile and bowed politely as I jetted past her and the gaggle of businessmen behind her. I hope I never have to answer her. I prayed that I had just imagined her knowing look.

I sprint-walked straight to my office. I didn’t even look at Rika as I flew by her. In the dust-settled glowing fallout of the orgasm, I sat shell-shocked at my desk. I could hardly comprehend what had just transpired. It felt like a strange dream. Like one of those fever dreams that feel so real and true as you experience it, but when you wake and revisit it, you realize how incredibly discordant, irrational, and silly it was. For my entire adult life, I had been nothing but seriously and ambitiously focused on a strait-laced life, strategizing it and carefully curating it to be peppered with accomplishments that I would be undoubtedly proud of in my twilight. I had commited myself to what they call in Japan, a kyariaÅ«man (career woman) life. Such ambition required of me an obsessive level of commitment and willingness to sacrifice most other things that a well-balanced life should have. Like love, sex, familial relationship, meaningful friendships, and hobbies. Such things I decided long ago were low on the totem pole of my priorities. These things I was happy to sacrifice at the altar of high achievement. But now, feeling the collar cutting into the skin of my neck as I breathed, I felt like I was at the edge of a tall chasm which I had worked so damn hard to climb up, about to toss myself back in. I reached under my scarf and tugged at the collar. I fingered the soft leather. What now must I do?

My phone vibrated. It rattled coldly on my glass table. The rattling went straight into my skull.

I stared at the phone for a whole minute before picking it up, like I had to wait for it to cool off first. My pussy began to tighten up again like some sort of Pavlovian reaction. She already got me trained.

“How was the meeting? Successful?” asked the text.

I grimaced. My cheeks grew flush red as I texted back,

When I set the phone back on the table, it vibrated again.

“That’s a good pet. The final test is already waiting for you in your desk drawer. Wear it for the rest of the day. Lubrication might be necessary. Saliva works fine if you have nothing else.”

Fearfully I opened my desk drawer. My eyes were drawn immediately to a foreign object. A metallic flared object like a wine stopper attached to a red bushy tail. A fox tail. I stared curiously at it, unsure what to make of it, until it hit me. I yelped loudly and slammed my desk drawer shut. It was a goddamn butt plug!

Nope. Never! Game over. It was fun while it lasted, but a fox-tailed butt plug was a bridge too far.

I flung my scarf off, unbuckled my collar, and stuffed it embarrassingly into my bag. I was having one of those moments, like when you’re drunk and suddenly sober enough to realize you’ve embarrassed yourself.

I moaned loudly. I couldn’t stomach being at the office any longer. It was still early in the afternoon, but I couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the day. Better to just retreat back home and spend the rest of the afternoon trying to forget about all the embarrassing things I did today. Maybe a long run to help burn it all off.

I found an envelope to slide the butt plug into. I sealed the envelope shut and left it with Rika as I left. I swiped my hand across my neck to indicate to her that I was done. She smirked and bowed her head. “Have a wonderful evening, Williams-san,” she said softly without looking at me. I could tell she was disappointed in me. The way she said my name — I would from here on out always be Williams-san to her. Never Jen. Never her ‘pet’. Whatever. Screw her.

The afternoon run was pleasant. It was a crisp, sunny autumn day. I ran my favorite route through the park near my house. Running had always been my outlet. I always ran without music because that allowed the thoughts in my head to freely run their course. The silence allowed the thoughts to boil off. The park had a canal that ran through it and a running trail lined with rows of cherry trees along the canal. The cherry trees would be so beautiful in the spring with their pink blossoms. I couldn’t wait to see them. But they were beautiful now, too, at the cusp of autumn, their leaves fiery orange at the fringes.

I ran my usual 10K route through the park, then another 2K around a city block for good measure. I finished at my apartment and paced up and down the street for a breather. After catching my breath, I headed in. I took a long shower and let the droning hot water keep my mind blank. Then I had dinner. A tuna salad that was my go-to when I wasn’t motivated to make anything else.

While eating dinner, the thoughts of Rika and the collar crept back into my mind. I knew it would be hard to get rid of them. She was like a wine stain on the rug of my life. All I could hope to do was keep rubbing water and vinegar into it while it was still fresh in my mind. At least now, after my run, I was in a more zen place, which enabled me to look at it all from a more dispassionate perspective.

While I lay in bed, I ran the day’s events through my head from the moment I woke to find the collar still on my neck. That sprite of giddiness that leaped from my heart when I felt it there like I was a kid on Christmas morning. The rush I felt as I arrived at the office that morning with it on. How everyone greeted me, not possibly knowing what was under my scarf, except Rika. Only Rika knew, and she didn’t even bat an eye! She just gave me that smile that I loved about her. That crooked smile always looked like she had something cooking in her mind.

How incredibly brash she was to tell me to wear that collar to work. I’ve chastised associates older than her for far, far less. Yet somehow, she knew I’d wear it. And she knew that wearing it made me hot. She must have known from how damp my panties were and how much they must have smelled of my arousal.

The third test, I passed too. How clever she was to make me pleasure myself in a meeting room with such a tight time constraint rather than in the comfort of my own office. It was easier than I thought it would be.

But the butt plug. No way. I wouldn’t wear a butt plug in the privacy of my home, let alone at work. Let alone one with a foxtail dangling from it! How did she think I would ever wear that?!

I don’t think I could even fit it in. It was so big, and nothing foreign ever went into my butt. It wasn’t something I was even remotely interested in trying. Pain doesn’t do it for me. It just doesn’t. At least as far as I knew. And then there was the tail! How humiliating. How degrading. How insanely weird. Imagine. The butt plug deeply penetrating my asshole, loosening up my tight hole, the soft bushy tail dangling between my thighs, grazing against my skin. Of course, no one would have actually known I had it in. They wouldn’t have seen it under my long pencil skirt. I could walk around all of Tokyo, and no one would be the wiser. Wetness crept into my pussy again. My nipples grew tight. I shifted uncomfortably in my bed.