by Various
I balled my panties in my hand and held them to my nose. I sniffed quickly and tried to put my hand down. John grabbed my wrist and pushed the sopping underwear back into my face.
‘Tell me what you smell, slut.’
I could smell the musky scent of my sex; never before had it been this intense, this powerful. I knew anybody close by must have been able to smell it too.
John pulled my panties from my nose and put them in his pocket.
He said, ‘Good girl.’
He eased his knee down so it wasn’t up between my legs anymore. I could feel the heat of his chest. He grabbed my forearm and squeezed my wrist again.
‘Let’s get away from the crowd, slut.’
He literally dragged me through the mass of bodies in the ballroom and pushed me towards the elevator door.
‘Get in!’
He shoved me in the empty car. I could see my reflection in the door of the mirrored compartment.
The elevator started to rise.
‘You … can’t do this … to me.’ My voice was trembling; I could barely speak.
His cold blue eyes fixed on me but he didn’t respond; he didn’t need to. His eyes said: I can do whatever the fuck I want with you, slut.
The elevator door opened and he pushed me out into the hall, then grabbed my elbow so I wouldn’t run. His large hand encircled my arm as he dragged me towards the open atrium that rose from the ballroom below. The music wafted up and echoed off the glass roof.
‘Grab the railing and spread your legs.’
I looked over the edge. I could see the people mingling below, laughing and smiling, having a good time.
I felt John lift my skirt. I twisted my head and observed him pull a hard cock from his pants. Yes, he was at least nine inches but to me it seemed bigger. There was no way I could take a cock like that …
I opened my dry mouth.
‘Go ahead, scream.’
He took hold of my hips and pulled me back to him. I had to bite my lip in order to keep from screaming as the bulbous head of his cock pressed against my opening. My ears were ringing so loudly I could no longer hear the sounds of the party below. I closed my eyes and wept as his huge dick roughly penetrated me. My hands locked on the wooden railing and John slammed into me. With each violent thrust I was driven forwards till my upper body was pushed over the rail. I could see all the people gathered below. I was forced over the edge. My face was on fire and I prayed that nobody would look up and see me.
John had his hands on my hips and drove me forwards with his hips, pounding me and then pulling me back. I was a piece of meat to him, the new girl to use.
He grabbed my long black hair and twisted my head so I was looking at him. A jolt of electricity raced through my body as my eyes met his. The sound of his skin slapping against mine rang through my ears.
‘I’m going to come in your cunt, you slut!’
Tears streamed down my cheeks as John pulled me back hard on his prick. I was jerked up off the ground. My knuckles were white from holding the rail so tightly, and my legs felt like they’d collapse. John’s dick went in deep, filling me, hurting me with a good pain I dared not let him know about. The slap of his flesh against mine echoed in my mind. I bit my lip hard as I felt his dick start to twitch in my pussy. John slammed forwards, driving my hips against the rail; my torso was over the edge as his cock shot come into me. There was so much, it began to flow out as he continued to thrust and shoot.
When he finally pulled his dick free from my pussy it felt like there was a huge void in my belly. He grabbed my hair again and twisted me around, pressed on my shoulders and made me fall to my knees.
‘Clean my cock!’ he ordered.
His cock was right there, inches from my face. The slap across my face was sudden and unexpected. I could feel the burning of my cheek.
‘Suck my cock clean, slut!’
I opened my mouth and the bulbous head of his dick made its way between my lips. There was no gentleness in his movements and he drove forwards, making me try to swallow him whole. I started to gag. I tried to pull my head off his dick but he held me firm. I was afraid I might vomit and knew that would probably turn him on … and me.
‘Relax and suck me clean!’
I gagged on the slimy shaft; I couldn’t get enough air and I could hear myself retching as my throat convulsed.
He pulled back on his cock ever so slightly and twisted my hair in his hand so hard that my scalp burned.
‘I said clean me!’
I started working my tongue over the underside of his dick; I could feel the pulsing against my lips. I tried my best to suck the cock dry.
Just as I was allowing myself to enjoy this, John’s hands left the back of my head and he slid his dick from my mouth.
‘Zip me up, whore!’
John’s cock was twitching inches in front of my face. My stomach was churning; I felt humiliated and ashamed. My hands trembled and I fumbled with his fly. I gently took his dick in my hand and eased it back into his pants, like a submarine mooring in a dock.
‘Get up, slut.’
My legs were too weak. He pulled my up by my arms. I could feel his come seeping out of my pussy and, since I wasn’t wearing panties, the man-juice began to roll down my thighs.
He grabbed an arm and pulled me towards the elevators. He said, ‘You want to get home, don’t you?’ Those cold eyes were fixed on me but I couldn’t react.
We descended into the ballroom, where the sound of the party hit me like a cruel slap as I stepped out of the elevator. John led me out the front door. I couldn’t look anybody in the eyes; I knew they all must have seen me on the balcony getting fucked.
The valet brought John’s car immediately. My ears were still ringing and I could feel the come dribbling out of my pussy as the young valet opened the door of the car for me.
My heart was beating like mad as John got in and put the car into gear. He told me: ‘Do not touch yourself at all during the weekend. You’re my slave now and you will do as I command.’ His hand clamped on my thigh and squeezed. ‘You no longer have any rights over your body and you will do what I say without question. You will come to my office at seven on Monday morning. I want you kneeling in front of my desk when I get there, with your hands up behind your head and your knees spread wide.’
I winced; he squeezed my flesh tighter.
‘You are not to wear panties and I want you shaved smooth.’
The city streets were empty; he drove fast, recklessly.
‘There will be more for you to learn later, but do you understand what I expect of you?’
I let out a cry of pain when John smacked me across the face.
‘Do you understand?’
My mouth was so dry I could barely speak. ‘Y-y-yes.’I couldn’t look him in the eyes.
‘Good.’
John’s hand went up under my skirt. I grabbed the door handle as his finger moved to my clit. I couldn’t help feeling some pleasure as he rubbed gently.
His voice was serious and stern: ‘You are not to touch yourself at all. You no longer have the right to reach orgasm without my permission … slut, do you understand?’
I closed my legs on his hand as my body responded to his machinations. I slid back in the seat with the smooth, cool leather against my skin. I expected pleasure but I should have known better. John pinched my clit painfully between his fingers; his short manicured nails dug into my sensitive area and he twisted violently, making me almost scream.
‘I said: do you understand, slut?’
‘Yes, yes …’
He moved his hand out from under my skirt. My nipples were hard and my chest was heaving. John reached across me and opened the door.
‘Get out. You have the weekend. Be in my office seven sharp, otherwise you’ll be punished beyond belief.’
John put his hands on the wheel and looked straight ahead, waiting for me to go. He looked so cold and cruel. I timidly got out of the car. He pe
eled away, leaving me alone in the dark blustery night, three blocks from my apartment building. My mind was a wreck; my heart was pounding in my chest and I could feel the perspiration covering my body.
I barely got more than a few hours of sleep on Saturday and Sunday. My mind was racing; I couldn’t believe what had happened to me. Why had I let myself be treated that way? Why did it turn me on when it happened and why did I get wet when I recalled what John did to me? I thought about quitting the law firm, simply not showing up on Monday; but I had bills and rent and could not afford to spend weeks looking for new employment. And what if John or Human Resources did not give me a recommendation? I could always leave after a short stint there, I supposed. I didn’t know what I was going to do.
Going to work Monday morning, I could feel the cool air on my pussy; it felt uncomfortable and wrong not having any panties on.
I arrived at 7a.m. sharp, as told. The receptionist wasn’t in yet; I was happy at least she wouldn’t see me like this. Half the lights weren’t even on as I headed slowly towards John’s office. With each step I could feel my chest tighten, and my head started pounding. My hand quivered when I knocked on John’s door; it was ajar and I could see a light on inside.
The sound of my knuckles rapping on the smooth, hard mahogany echoed in my ears like the trumpets of angels calling forth Armageddon.
There was no answer. I gently pushed open the door and stepped inside, taking small steps.
The office was large and dark but there was a small light on at the desk. The walls were covered with shelves and shelves of books, law books, fiction books, even some volumes of Victorian erotica.
I wasn’t alone. I saw John’s secretary kneeling on the floor in front of his desk. She didn’t move; she didn’t turn to look at me. I’d seen Marilyn around the office but we’d never spoken. She was a beautiful Chinese girl, not much taller than me, late twenties, very thin with tiny breasts and gorgeous long black hair. She wore a dark suit with a jacket and short skirt, and black-rimmed glasses. She looked more like a smart lawyer ready for court, not an assistant dominated by her boss.
I yelped as a hand fell on my shoulder. John loomed behind me like the Devil over the damned.
‘I told you to kneel in front of my desk with your knees wide.’
I was shocked when he slapped my face with an open hand; it happened so quickly, I was not prepared for the treatment.
‘Get into position, slut!’
John pushed me forwards and I was next to Marilyn. I didn’t have any choice but to fall to my knees beside her. I saw that she had a dildo in her mouth; it was huge, and a good three inches jutted from her widely spread lips. I could see the small bulge in the back of her throat where the head of the rubber cock came to a rest.
‘Hands behind your head, slut!’
I felt fear in the pit of my stomach, yet my pussy was wet now. I put my hands behind my head and intertwined my fingers. John casually started spreading papers out on his desk.
I could feel the strain in my thighs already from kneeling, and keeping my legs so wide.
‘You’re dismissed, cunt,’ John said; he didn’t look up as Marilyn got to her feet.
She pulled the long dildo from between her teeth and placed it into her suit-jacket pocket. She said, ‘Thank you, Master.’
‘Close the door on your way out, cunt.’
I felt Marilyn shuffle past me. My arms shuddered when the door slammed shut, leaving me alone with John.
Part of me wanted desperately to beg for freedom, but I didn’t know what to say that would convince him; the other part wanted him to toss me on that desk and fuck me like he had Friday night: roughly, assuredly, making me his meat.
John continued to look at The Wall Street Journal as he spoke: ‘You will be punished later, slut. I expect when I tell you to do something, that you do it, there are no fucking excuses.’
John moved from behind his huge desk. My thighs burned and my knees shook. He had his cock out of his trousers and stood before me. The head of his member was two inches away from my lips and I could smell the cologne he had on, strong and masculine, mixed with the mustiness of his crotch.
‘Open up, slut!’
Again I was surprised by the sudden slap across my face; and surprised how my pussy reacted with heat and moisture.
‘Suck my cock, slut!’
I reached for his cock but John grabbed my wrists, squeezed them tight and lifted my hands up above my head.
‘Only use your mouth, slut, no hands.’
John thrust his hips forwards and forced his dick between my lips. I started to gag as he forced the head of his cock to the back of my throat. He held my hands tight in and pulled me towards him, driving his prick ever deeper. I thought I might puke all over him. What would he do if that happened?
‘Do it, slut, make me come!’
I coughed and choked as John’s thick member filled me. Tears streaked my cheeks as he fucked my face. Gobs of saliva leaked out of my mouth and dripped to the floor.
‘Come on, slut, do something!’
I felt him squeeze my wrists tighter. I tried desperately; again and again my mouth slid over the length of John’s shaft. My jaws were aching and I’d never felt so ashamed and aroused simultaneously.
‘You better swallow all my come, slut. You wouldn’t want it dripping on your suit.’
My jaw was spread wide. The thought of his come on my jacket had never occurred to me – everybody would know with that evidence – and then he started to come. The thick spunk filled my mouth. It seemed like it would never stop. I tried to pull myself off his dick, but John held me firm as he kept pumping his come and my puke into my mouth. My throat involuntarily convulsed on his cock as I desperately tried to swallow the copious load.
John pulled his prick free from my lips and let go of my hands. There was nothing I could do but swallow the come that filled my mouth.
‘Marilyn, come here, please.’
John spoke into the monitor on his desk. Marilyn rushed inside, fell to her knees and took his cock in her mouth without a word. He cupped the back of her head and she licked him clean.
‘Thank you, cunt.’
Marilyn gently eased John’s prick back into his pants and zipped him up. She remained on her knees, head down as he ran his finger through her long black hair.
‘You may go to your desk, my cunt.’
Marilyn got to her feet and disappeared out the door in an instant.
I could still taste the thick come and puke in my mouth. I wanted desperately to spit it out, to have a martini or something to get rid of the awful taste.
I stayed on my knees and softly sobbed.
A sharp, harsh commanding flavour to John’s voice: ‘I told you I want your hands behind your head!’
John smacked his open hand down on the desk. I could feel his eyes on me but I didn’t dare look up. I lifted my trembling arms behind my head and wound my fingers together.
‘You need to work on your cocksucking skills, slut. You’ve got to make me come, that’s your job. I don’t just want some lifeless gloryhole to stick my dick in.’
No one had ever spoken to me like that before; I was appalled and turned on by his words.
John moved around in front of the desk. ‘This is for you, a gift.’
He set a huge purple dildo on the floor; it was just like the one Marilyn had had in her mouth. It was probably twelve inches long, thick and ribbed.
‘Welcome to our law offices,’ he said.
And I replied, ‘Thank you, Master.’
Keeping It Real
Giselle Renarde
She burst into his home office without knocking. Favourite clients needn’t bother with formalities – especially not favourite clients who’d just been named World’s Sexiest Woman by Spotlite magazine.
‘Marcel, did you see?’Peradice held up the magazine like an old-school newsie. ‘Extra, extra! Read all about it: girl from the projects rises to rap super-sta
rdom, wins world’s love!’
Marcel was on the telephone, and he held his finger to his lips, then pointed to one of the plush chairs. Her manager’s home office was much more comfy than the one downtown. Even so, she liked the tower better. Here, she was always afraid his wife would walk in on them. Marcel claimed he told Dalena everything, but guys always said that.
‘Did you see?’ she asked again when he’d hung up the phone. Peradice showcased the magazine enthusiastically, like those bimbos on The Price Is Right. ‘Get a load of my tits in that halter top! Even I want to fuck me.’
Marcel’s chair squeaked as he leaned back, arching his hands, tapping his fingertips together. He didn’t look too happy, and Peradice couldn’t understand why. This was the greatest news since she’d won Best Album of the Year.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, setting the magazine on his desk. She really wanted him to look at it.
When he did, he shrugged and said, ‘They airbrushed the hell out of you.’
Peradice didn’t know how to feel. Her heart turned icy, but her belly was on fire. ‘So what? They airbrush everyone.’
Where was he going with this?
Marcel creaked back in his chair, tossed his feet on his desk, crossed them at the ankles. ‘You’re getting a little full of yourself, Per.’
That hurt, but Peradice didn’t get where she was today by letting people see her true feelings. Not even Marcel, and she trusted him better than anyone. She sucked her teeth. ‘I got every reason to be full of myself. I ain’t no little white boy growing up in the suburbs with mommy and daddy paying my way. You know how I got to where I am?’
‘Yes, Per.’
‘I worked my ass off is how, fighting for studio sessions with dicks who’re grabbing at me the whole time. I could have lived my whole life in the projects muttering about how the man was keeping me down, but no. Instead I rap about it. I make people listen, and when they hear my truth it changes them. Don’t you tell me I don’t deserve respect. I built this empire.’
‘Yes, I heard your Grammy speech, but thanks for the recap.’ Marcel stared at her with this amused little smirk on his face that made her feel nakedly transparent. ‘Are you waiting for a standing ovation?’