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Selby’s Pet Project

JD Kindle

Copyright 2018 JD Kindle

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of incidental products referenced in this work of fiction. The trademark owners do not sponsor any mention of their products. Thank you for reading this ebook.

Selby’s straight, thin, torso resembled a store mannequin’s. She cut a nice slim figure but nothing special, per se. High cheekbones and a lean hard jaw-line kept her flinty face from being homely. Her piercing gaze and commanding tone voiced a superior personality that erased any trace of her poor trailer-trash upbringing. Selby was anything but common.

She was a genius at displaying herself in a way that exploited her best features to full effect.

Her slender thighs firmly stretched the soft fabric of her tiny tight black skirt, snug against the baby moon roundness of her jutting butt cheeks, her hem rode high on her thighs with each step she took. She looked incredibly sexy in a sleek pair of patent leather stiletto pumps, featuring five-inch spike heels, their austere elegance exposing an ample display of teasing toe cleavage.

Selby daily strutted her stuff in this stilted footwear. And she looked amazing.

When I first realized I’d be working alone with her, one-on-one, I was stunned.

I was even more stunned to finally meet her at the start of our project.

Standing in front of me, in her powerfully expressive stance, with long lean legs spread wide apart, she seemed to admonish me. I had no right to look upon her. Her supreme presence was not meant for the likes of me, a low-level-dweeb; a mere fellow coworker.

Selby cultivated a superior manner as a means toward moving up the corporate ladder. Out of Tech Support and into Finance or, better yet, to help snare an executive husband. Her ambitious self-empowerment program was, at the moment, wasted on me. Alone together, in an unused basement conference room, we had one month to knock out the code for a new application upgrade.

Selby was not pleased.

She stood before me, as she puffed on a cigarette, looking past me at our new workplace, taking it all in.

"You're not supposed to smoke in here," I told her reflexively. Of course, she knew that, but I didn't know what else to say.

"What do you care?" she asked, brusquely.

"I don't want you to get in trouble. That's all."

She walked up to me. Put her face close to mine and blew smoke directly in my eyes.

"We'll say you’re the one who smokes, if anybody cares," she said, angrily. "I won't get in trouble, you will, you’re the one that fucking smells like an ashtray." She looked vacantly at me. "Problem solved."

"Yes, Selby," I coughed.

Her rudeness was understandable. She was disappointed. What the hell was I thinking? Laying down the law about smoking... what an ass I was! I didn't care if she smoked. I could take extra allergy tablets to deal with that. As for blowing smoke at me, well, she obviously wanted to provide evidence for our agreed upon cover story. She really wasn't being rude at all.

"I don't plan on spending much time down here," she said. "You'll be doing all the work and I'll be taking all the credit. That's the way it is. I'll be off networking most of the time with executives in other departments. Once this project is over though I'll throw you a bone. I'll give you an easy assignment. I'm sure you’ll work your butt off so that I'll get a promotion out of this." Here she looked at me as I quivered. "You will bust your ass for me, won’t you boy?"

"Absolutely," I was ecstatic. We were a team. She had my back. Selby was watching out for me!

"Get rid of this coffee maker,” Selby demanded. “I don't drink that crappy stuff. You’ll be fetching my Venti® coffees from the Starbucks™ upstairs. If you want crappy coffee buy it somewhere else and bring it in. I'll need a fridge down here stocked with bottled glacier water and a steady supply of cigarettes - got that?"

"You want me to get all that?"

Her face froze in anger. She threw her cigarette on the floor and came at me.

"Listen, dumbfuck," she jammed her index finger in my ribs. "Don't make me speak to you anymore than is strictly necessary. I don't care if you steal the stuff out of the supply room or somebody else's office or however else you get it. But if I say I want something, then, HELL YES it means that I expect you to get it for me. Are you dense?"

"Yes," I answered without thinking. I couldn't imagine myself saying the word NO to Selby in any context. I would have felt like I was talking back to her.

Her eyes were aflame. Her nostrils flared. She was incensed. She thought I was being a smart-ass.

She jammed her right forearm under my chin and pinned me against the wall nearly lifting me off my feet. I outweighed her by a good twenty pounds or so but she used her leverage to great effect. She clenched my balls in her left hand and squeezed tight while glaring at me, saying, "Don't you EVER--I mean EVER--fuck with me like that again! Understand? I'll whip your ass raw, bitch." She released me and I fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, completely out of it.

"This'll refresh you," she said, pouring water on me. I looked up wondering where she got the water so quickly, and why it was so warm.

Through the amber drops I saw her triumphant pose as she lifted her skirt clear of the stream. She was peeing in my face!

I covered my head and cried. I was worthless. I was contemptible. I was pathetic. I hated myself. For in that brief moment as she looked down on me with eyes that completely obliterated my being, so help me, I adored her.

"Buck up, Bitch. It's not so bad. It'll be fun working together. Why are you crying?"

"Y-You a-are s-so-o BEE-YOUUU-Tifph-FUUULLLL!" I said in broken sobs.

"No shit, tell me something I don't know," she said, more out of boredom than contempt. "Now lick the piss off my shoes so I can get out of here. I can't stand to see all this blubbering. Get your shit together by tomorrow, or I'll really give you something to cry about."

"Yes, Maam," I said as I licked pee from her shoes.

The next morning I brought in a picnic cooler filled with ice and her gourmet bottled water. I hadn't had time to scour the building for an empty office that might contain a small refrigerator I could steal. I was sure we'd never get a new one from supply. We didn't rate.

I didn't forget her imported cigarettes. I bought her a full carton.

She walked in an hour late, took one look at the cooler, and promptly went crazy.

"Are you fucking kidding ME!" She ripped the lid off the cooler and threw it at me. "Does this look like a fridge? Where are my cigarettes?"

I handed them to her.

"Asshole! I wanted my cigarettes kept in a fridge to keep them fresh. And where is my fucking fridge by the way?" She grabbed my bagged lunch out of the cooler and threw it at me.

"I didn't have time to get one," I said as the bag bounced off my face. "I thought, for the time being, we could make do with this set up."

"Bitch, you've fucking got some deep problems," she said, somewhat calmer now. "If I give you an assignment find time to get it done. You better learn to prioritize. And maybe I wasn't clear, that’s my fault, but it will be my fridge, not yours. If you need to keep your lunch cold use the fridge in the common lunchroom, asshole. Don’t cross contaminate it with my stuff."

"Yes, Selby, I understand," I said, nervously.

She walked to the coffee maker. "Didn't I tell you to get rid of this?" she demanded.

"I thought I'd ask around and see if anyone wanted it. It’s a perfectly good coffee maker. I wasn't going to use it, see?" I held up a polystyrene cup of cheap gas station coffee I bought on my way in. "I thought it'd be okay with you as long as I didn't use it."

She ripped the electrical cord off the back in one quick movement.

"I see," she said, slapping the doubled up cord across her palm. "You thought this... you thought that...you're obviously the victim of defective thinking. Well, we can't have that. What if it carries over to the project?"

"I don't know."

"Well I DO know. I’ve got the perfect remedy right fucking here. This'll clear things up." She stood me up facing the conference table. "Drop 'em."

I froze.


I undid my pants and let them fall to the floor.


I slid my briefs down around my ankles.

She bent me over the table and pushed my chest and stomach down flat against the tabletop. She made me put my arms out wide with my palms facing down. She turned my face away from her and pressed my cheek against the cold, hard surface.

"This'll flush the fuzzy thinking out of your mind. Now maybe you'll understand that I mean what I say. I'm not some bubble-headed bimbo you can toy with. I will not get played, bitch. If you didn't know that before, you fucking will now."

I heard the cord slice the air with a hiss before the it landed, WhA-CracK!, across my bare ass.

Then the pain.

Talk about fuzzy thinking. I had no idea how I had been reduce to this--getting a time-honored old-fashion ass whipping from a coworker (not even my boss!) who was barely out of college (a mere kid) and I was fucking loving it! I wanted a time out. I wanted to be able to collect my thoughts into some coherent pattern. Was I entering into a rich new life experience? Or spiraling into a pit of early onset dementia?

WhA-CracK! Another lick.

The searing pain imprinted the immediate experience. Selby was the boss of me. She took charge. I was under her total control. I was her slave and she, Selby, my master. It did clear my mind. Absolutely, it did. By whipping my ass Selby defined our roles explicitly. This was the most honest relationship I’d ever been involved in. It left no doubt where we stood. I appreciated her sense of responsibility in communicating my role in no uncertain terms. Selby owned me. It might not be fair or equitable but it was crystal clear, and stone cold certain.

WhA- Ca-Ra-ACK! The last best lash split my skin open a little.

And with that last lash my anxiety evaporated. Not any special anxiety brought on by Selby, no, the regular everyday anxiety I carried around with me as I tried to fit in--as I tried to find my place in the world. I now knew my place. I was owned - hers. I was Selby’s little bitch.

"I'm sorry, Maam. I'll do better," I said.


She walked to the end of the table and sat down holding an unlit cigarette.

I pulled my drawers up and went to her. I lit her cigarette for her.

"You're learning. I like that. I'll be nice. I like the way you took your whipping. It would have been much worse had you cried like yesterday. I'll give you a break. Your ass is sore. This is a good time to reinforce your lesson. Crouch down on all fours and stare at my high-heeled feet."

I obeyed. Gladly.

"Don't touch. Meditate. Contemplate. Marvel at their beauty. Feel how the very sight of my gorgeous feet in these shoes enriches your life immeasurably. Know that you will never—ever--be worthy of so much as kissing the tip of my toe. Feel free to fantasize sucking the grit from under my toenails or licking the sweat from between my toes, then ache with the knowledge that you will never be allowed to taste the heavenly flavors my foot-filth holds."

I gawked. Enthralled and broken down. I held my eye an inch from her toe-cleavage as it mocked me. The wonders it held! Filth? Not hardly! O, to drink the fermented sweat distilled there! To chew the meaty tidbits lurking beneath her pedicured nails as the residue of finely crafted shoe leather settled in the crevice underneath. Cultured by the moist warmth into a substance more tantalizing than the rarest spice!

I nearly seized up. In my ecstatic reverie I forgot to breathe.

She heard me gasp to catch my breath.

"Go easy, my Bitch." (HER BITCH! HERS!) "Take your time, relax. This is a rare experience. I'll work on the project while you become better acclimated at accepting your new role as my complete and total slave, as you cringe in submission at my feet. Feel the scorched pain I planted in your raw lacerated backside while you view the dazzling brilliance of my feet before you. Calculate the added pain you would gladly endure for another such scrutiny."

I moaned openly.

"It is incalculable, is it not? You would endure all manner of suffering, physical, mental and psychological, for the mere chance (however unlikely) that I might once again grant your shabby ass a good look at my wonderfully high-heeled feet."

"Yes, my Lady. YES!" I shuddered.

"Too bad I didn't wear my 6 inch strappy platform sandals. They have a smooth round heel made of varnished wood. A perfect dildo. I could have rammed the point home with a good sodomizing shoe fuck. You'd like that wouldn't you, Bitch?"

"Yes. Yes." I heard my voice say.

She took a deep drag on her cigarette and exhaled slowly. Watching me.

"What did you say?" she asked, lifting my chin with the toe of her shoe.


"'Yes' what?"

"Yes, Goddess Selby, I'd love to be shoe fucked by you, My Supreme Highness," I said consciously, deliberately. I very much wanted to demonstrate my willing submission in the most forceful terms possible.

"Remove my left shoe."

I did so, trembling.

"Pucker up."

She placed her bare stocking foot on my shoulder as I crouched on all fours, she held her stiletto-clad right foot in the air, and I lifted my puckered lips to the long thin heel of it.

"Let’s pretend your face is your ass and your mouth is your asshole," she said, as she slid the heel of her right foot slowly in and out of my surrounding lips. "Of course, if I’d worn the correct shoes we could do this for real, fucking you in your ass, and I could pump much harder."

"Ummm," I coaxed her on. Signaling that my face could take a much harder pumping.

She began pumping her leg more quickly, sometimes mashing the sole of her shoe into my face, crushing my nose. I loved it. I was getting face-fucked by Selby’s killer heel. I was Selby’s eager little shoe-punk! Ohh!

The sight of her balancing on one ass cheek while fingering herself and pumping her fabulous leg in the air while driving her spike heel into me drove me mad with overwhelming desire. The only thing keeping her from toppling off her chair was her bare foot on my shoulder. It felt so divine. She was depending on me for support. She moaned. She pumped. She bucked and balanced and shoe-fucked the hell out of me.

The wet of sexual arousal fell sopping down her taint to her asshole. A burst of gas escaped her butthole just as she achieved climax, blowing atomized droplets of fuck-perfume against my face and deep into my sinus cavity. The pleasure centers of my brain took a direct hit. I fish-flopped backward in ecstatic bliss. My head caromed off the corner of the conference table as I landed on my back, I was knocked-out cold. Unconscious.

I awoke to a fresh stream of pee in the face. Quite revitalizing. Like a good bracing splash of spiced vinegar.

"Bitch, I'm getting sick of having to revive your ass everyday," Selby said, standing with one foot on the chair and the other on the table straddling high over my body in an effort to avoid the back-splash. "You are one high maintenance bitch."

She stepped down from her perch as I got to my knees.

"You better get your ass up and wipe up this fucking puddle." She had a disgusted look on her face and I couldn't blame her. "I'd make you lick it up but play time's over. You'd probable take all day. You like how my piss tastes, don't you bitch?"

"Yes, Ma’am."

"Well, fuck that. Find a mop and clean this up. I was going to do you a favor and actually do some work. But you fucked that up. I can't stay down here with this urine smell all over the place. Better get some air freshener, dickweed. You really are a mental fuck-up aren't you? You can't go one day without needing to be peed on. That’s truly messed up."

"I'm sorry."

She picked up her shoe off the floor and gingerly held it by her thumb and forefinger. It had pee on it.

"'Sorry' doesn't shine my shoe."

I took it from her and began to lick.

She slammed me upside the head.

"Are you deliberately fucking with me, bitch?" she asked, livid. "Use a paper towel. Am I supposed to stand around all day while you fucking get your rocks off licking the piss off my shoe? Fun's fun but you need to shape up and get this show on the road. You haven't done a lick of work on my project and you still need to get my fridge squared away and get rid of that thing over there (the coffee maker) and clean this mess up. You're such a fucking asshole."

She glared at me while I shriveled under her stare, ashamed.

"You may need professional help, my fucked-up friend. And I don't mean the usual kind. I mean a real life Dominatrix that'll instill a sense of humility in your uppity ass. You don't listen to a thing I say. I can't even shoe-fuck your face without you making a big production out of it. I don't know why you want to fuck with me like that."

"I worship you," I blurted to the contrary.

She stood stock-still trying to figure out if I was playing her or not. She took her shoe and jammed it in my face, toe first, so that it lodged in my mouth. I guess she didn't want to give me the benefit of the doubt.

"Don't interrupt me when I'm talking, Bitch! And give me back my shoe." She plucked it out of my mouth.

"You're one of these passive-aggressive types aren't you? There is fucking no way anybody could be this fucking stupid for real. You just keep fucking up on purpose don't you? First the fridge thing. Then the coffee maker bullshit. And what the fuck were you thinking when you told me not to smoke in here? All innocent like - 'I didn't want you to get in trouble' - oh yeah!" She cracked me across the face with her shoe. "If you're so concerned about me then why do you keep fucking with my head? Why don't you mind what I say? It's because I'm a woman isn't it? You refuse to show me my proper respect because I'm female, right?"

"No Ma’am. I truly respect and honor you."

She looked upset still. Uneasy.

"Motherfucker, let me break it down for you. You are my slave, bitch, got it? I OWN you."

"Yes, Ma’am."

"Say it."

"I am your slave. You, Selby, own me." I trembled with devotion as I added, "I am your personal property to be used at your discretion in any way you wish."

"Good," she said plainly, as though she was almost relieved that I finally got something right but she was too bored to care. "I gotta have a smoke. And now I have to go all the way outside. I can't stand the stink in here."

It smelled fine to me.

"By the time I get back you had better have this place mopped up and smelling fresh. You got that, asshole?"

She didn't wait for an answer.

The room next to ours was the janitor storeroom. I found a mop there and went to work. By the time she came back things were clean. Except for me. I'd been soaked through with pee. Selby took care of that.

She came in toting a canvas bag, "You're lucky I had my gym bag in the car. Let's go next door to the janitors storeroom."

Selby stripped me naked and hosed me down with the janitor's hose. She reached in her gym bag and threw me a towel. I dried off.

"Put this on, bitch," she said, throwing a balled up cloth at me.

It was a giant over-sized T-shirt that had "All American Bitch" written across the front.

"Wet down your clothes and hang 'em in front of the furnace vent. They'll be dry by this afternoon," she said, as she waited for me to try on the shirt. "Go on, bitch, put it on. I wear it at the gym when I work out. It’s about ten sizes too big, so it fits like a loose bag, and all the horny stalkers have got nothing to look at. It comes down to my knees on me. It should cover your crotch area. Not that there's much to cover," she said, looking at my shrunken penis. The water was cold coming out of that hose.

I balked at putting on the shirt. I didn't think management would be too keen on it if they saw me.

"Put it on, bitch. I wear it. If I can wear it you can, too. Have you got a problem with being labeled a bitch? Because you are a bitch. You're officially MY bitch. If I tell you to get "All American Bitch" tattooed on your forehead you'd better do it. So quit stalling and put it on, my little slave bitch."

I put it on.

"Aren’t I good to you? See how I look out for your sorry ass? Don't you like being owned by me? The least you can do is thank me."

"Thank you, Goddess Selby, Ma’am."

She suddenly grabbed the back of my head and, turning, pulled it down toward her ass. She ripped a tremendous fart in my face.

"What's that smell like?"


"That's right, bitch. While we're here I've got something you can do for me. I don't want to mess up the conference room again in case you go and pass out again. Maybe you better take that shirt off for now."

I took it off wondering what the hell she had in store for me now.

"I had Mexican food last night. That's why I'm so gassy. Anyway I've got a case of flaming butthole today. I just took a healthy shit before I came in here and now my ass is burning. Too much hot pepper sauce, I guess. Anyway, I hope you like spicy shit because you're going to be licking the heat off my asshole, slaveboy."

She turned and faced the wall and leaned against it like you do when cops pat you down.

"Bitch, get on your knees and start licking."

I knelt down and slid her skirt up over her bare ass.

"Keep your hands on my cheeks, boy. I don't want you getting all worked up and jerking yourself off, you hear? Just keep you're mind on business and lick my asshole to a bright gleam."

I spread her cheeks slightly and went to work.

I worked up some saliva and washed it against her anus and sucked it down.

"Bitch, get in deeper. Use that tongue of yours, slut. Clean my ass out good. Show some respect, slave."

I obeyed.

I felt privileged to be eating her wonderful ass... to be owned by someone with an ass so beautiful. Her cheeks were like two perfect orbs jutting out of her thin straight hips. I pulled them farther apart and licked deeply, hooking the tip of my tongue inside the rim and running it round in a circle.

"Ohh yeah, lick the pink part clean."

Selby helped me. Pushing her ass out. Grinding her bottom down onto my face with a circular twerking motion. She was very thoughtful toward me. It made my job a lot easier.

She was right about the hot sauce. I licked out pepper seeds that were still intact. In fact, I chewed some that hadn't yet released their heat. These I quickly swallowed lest I apply more heat to my owner's ass than I relieved.

That's when it happened. It occurred to me that I was eating the same substance that had passed through Selby's entire body. The same foodstuff that nourished her fine body would now be nourishing me. I blissed out.

I woke up in a fresh stream of pee with Selby smiling down on me, "You do good work when you put your mind to it. But we've got to build up your tolerance if you want to stay my Slaveboy Office Pet. I'm running dry here, Bitch."

The End

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