Office Slave II

by J. W. McKenna

  Ellen looked confused. “What? You want me to ... um, have sex with someone?” She looked around. “Who? And why, again?"

  "To test your reactions,” he said again. “From what you've told me, it became almost second nature to you. That's quite an achievement, you realize. To have subsumed your own needs so completely for Sawyer."

  "Well, yes, that was for him. I owed him. I'm not sure—"

  Bernie chose that moment to barge in from the unlocked back door, closely followed by Bubba and the stranger. “Well, here I am, doc, just as you asked. You said you needed our help in something?” Ellen shrank back behind Dr. Butler, her eyes wide.

  "Uh, yes. Ber-I mean, Barney, this is Ellen. Ellen, Barney. And this is, uh..."

  "George,” the big man rumbled, giving Ellen a leering smile.

  "Ralph,” the sallow man said, an evil grin on his face.

  "Barney and, uh, George and Ralph are going to help me. I mean, help you, recreate your visit with a client ... or more."

  "I don't understand."

  "I explained it, Ellen.” He turned around and gripped her firmly by her upper arms. “I realize this may seem unorthodox to you, but I assure you it will help us get to the root of your problems. You see, we have limited time and, uh, this method has been known to achieve results much more quickly."

  "Results?” Ellen tried to cover herself with her hands while the doctor tried to show the men all her charms.

  Ellen was flabbergasted. For the first time in months, she actually felt embarrassed to be naked in front of strangers. Whenever she had entered Mr. Sawyer's office, she felt proud to show off her body because he was there. She trusted her boss. Dr. Butler wasn't Mr. Sawyer, but she had felt safe in his office. Now she was confused. Was she supposed to be doing this? Wasn't Dr. Butler supposed to cure her of her problem? Or at least help her to understand it?

  "I don't understand,” she said again softly.

  "There's nothing to worry about. I have condoms.” He fetched them from his desk drawer.

  The man named Barney scowled. “What the hell is this? You didn't say nothing about no raincoats."

  "It's for the protection of my client."

  "I ain't got no VD,” Barney insisted.

  "If it will keep Ellen from becoming upset, what's the harm?” he said urgently, tipping his head at the closed door to the reception. “You wouldn't want her to become agitated, would you?"

  Barney's lip curled, but he said nothing else. Finally, he nodded and accepted a foil-wrapped package from the doctor. George followed suit. Ralph took one, and tossed it into the trash can by the doctor's desk. Butler stared at him but said nothing.

  Ellen had almost been forgotten in the brief exchange. She still looked worried. “I don't ... I'm not..."

  "Hush, now. You want to get better, don't you?"

  She nodded.

  "Well then, you have to trust me. I know what I'm doing."

  Ellen started to speak, but the decision appeared to have been made for her. She seemed to shrink as she kept her hands over her breasts and pussy.

  The doctor worried that he might be causing her to withdraw. He wondered why she was so ready to do Sawyer's bidding, but would suddenly balk when her psychiatrist—another dominate male in her life—would ask the same thing of her.

  Barney spoke up, breaking his train of thought. “Hey, you're not going to watch or anything, are ya? I don't need an audience."

  The doctor's temper flared. “You've got Ralph and Bub-, I mean, George here—or are they here just to help you put it in?"

  "Careful, doc,” Barney warned. He looked from the doctor to his bodyguard, then Ralph, and back again. He shrugged. “Maybe you could all leave for a little while."

  "No,” Dr. Butler said. “The deal is, I need to be here to monitor Ellen. If I'm not here and she suddenly cried out, why, who knows what might happen.” He jerked his head toward the door again, just to make sure Bernie got the message.

  "All right, all right. But I want you the rest of youse way in the back. I don't work well with an audience."

  George smiled. He spoke for the first time since they arrived. “Who says you get to go first?” His voice rumbled.

  "Yeah?” Ralph put in.

  Barney's eyes widened. “I'm the man who is owed the money! You're here out of my good graces."

  "Whaddya say we flip for it?” George suggested.

  "Or rock, paper, scissors,” Ralph added.

  "Get real. You guys get sloppy seconds or none at all."

  Ellen didn't follow the conversation. What was all this about money? With Mr. Sawyer, money had been important, sure, but why was the doctor concerned about it?

  She eyed the big man called George and wondered if his cock was proportional to his body. She shivered when she thought of the heavy man lying on her. She thought back to when Mr. Sawyer had ordered to fuck a fat man and tried to put her mind in that place. She remembered Bob Orr, the large man who turned out to be a great lover. Perhaps this George would be like him.

  She was more worried about the two weaselly men. The tall one and the greasy one with the bad tooth. Why would the doctor use them to help in her therapy? They looked like criminals. The shorter man looked as if he hadn't shaved in days. She knew her breasts and face would be scratched up by it. Why couldn't the man shave at least?

  She fought her fears and tried to calm herself. This was just another duty to be performed, same as all the others. She had enjoyed the attention so much, why worry about these guys? Okay, so they weren't as clean and nice as Mr. Sawyer's clients and employees, but they probably had their redeeming qualities.

  Barney jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You guys, head over by the back door. I need some room.” He approached Ellen, who shrunk back. “Hey, now, little one. Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you.” He looked over his shoulder. “Am I, doc?"

  "Uh, no. Ellen, trust me, everything will be all right. Just do what you do best, all right?"

  She nodded. Barney led her to the couch and made her lie down. He kissed her cheek and Ellen could feel his scratchy beard. She shivered. He soon grew tired of her face and move down to her nipples. He licked and sucked, taking her tender nipples into his mouth and sucking them. Sometimes he was too rough and he pulled too hard. She began to squirm.

  "Oh, you like this, huh, slut?” He cooed.

  "No, you're doing it too hard, you're hurting me."

  "Come on, you like it, you know you do."

  She tried to relax and accept her role. Barney soon moved down to her slit. He played with her clit roughly. “Goll, will you look at this,” he said, staring at the Sawyer Metalworking logo tattooed on her mound. “You must be one sick chick to let them do that to you."

  Sick chick? Mr. Sawyer had never called her a sick chick. Dr. Butler never had either. Why was this man insulting her so? Didn't he know she had been coerced into using her body for Jack? She had come to like it, that was true, but only because Mr. Sawyer was so careful with her.

  "Doctor—” she began, trying to free herself from underneath the man's body. He grabbed her arms and held her down.

  "Oh no, you don't, you little slut. You put out for the doc, now you put out for me."

  He told her that!? Wasn't that confidential? What was going on here? “Doctor! Help! I don't want to do this!"

  The man was strong. He held her down as he reached down and unzipped his pants. His hard cock sprung free. Ellen looked around for the doctor, and spotted him across the room, just watching. “Doctor!"

  He took a step forward, then stopped. His face was a mask of worry and indecision. He tugged at his tie.

  Barney pushed her legs apart and climbed over her. Ellen could feel his erection press against her slit. She wasn't wet yet and he didn't seem to want to give her time to become aroused. “Wait,” she said. “Wait."

  He didn't wait. The tip of his cock speared her, spreading her labia apart and scraping her skin. She began to struggle, fighting
panic. Barney's face darkened. “Hey, you bitch! Stop it!” He raised one hand as if to slap her.

  "Doctor!"

  Ellen's raised voice galvanized Dr. Butler into action. He raced over and pulled the bookie from his patient.

  "What the hell...?"

  "Get off of her! The deal's off!"

  "Hey! It's too late now!"

  George came over and grabbed the doctor by his arms and pulled him away from the smaller man.

  "No! Stop! I'll pay you the four grand!"

  Everything froze for a moment: Barney, standing over the naked Ellen, his softening cock sticking out of his pants; George, his meaty hands still tightly gripped around the doctor's arms; Ralph, standing a few feet away, the hard bulge of his cock visible in his pants; and Dr. Butler, his face white, his lips set. And Ellen, a shocked look of understanding slowly spreading over her face.

  There came a knock at the door. “Doctor? Everything all right in there?” The door rattled. Dr. Butler thanked the stars that he'd had the presence of mind to lock it earlier.

  Only the eyes of the four men moved—they flitted from one to another before the doctor suddenly shrugged free of George's grip and turned toward the door.

  "Yes, officer, everything's fine...” he said through the closed door. “We're just having a bit of a breakthrough."

  "I'd like to talk to Ellen,” the voice insisted.

  The doctor turned back to the men and jerked his head toward the door. Barney pointed at him and whispered, “Four grand,” then zipped up his pants as if in emphasis. “Tomorrow.” He tossed the unused condom, still in its wrapper, at the doctor as he and George headed for the back door.

  "All right,” Dr. Butler said to the door, snatching up Ellen's clothes and tossing them to her. “I'll be right there.” To Ellen, he hissed, “Get dressed! Quickly!"

  Ellen paused. “Why? Tami's seen me naked before."

  "Uh, I don't want her to see you naked here—she might get the wrong idea,” he whispered.

  Ellen nodded and began getting dressed, but her mind was working, putting together the pieces.

  The doctor leaned down to pick up the condom, slipping it into his pocket. He walked to the door and pretended to fumble with the lock. “Hang on, the door seems to be stuck.” He looked over his shoulder to see Ellen buttoning her blouse, then pulling up her skirt. There was no time to put on underwear. She tossed it behind his desk. He opened up the door and peeked his head out.

  "What is it, officer? We're right in the middle of a breakthrough here."

  "I heard shouting—and it sounded like there were others in there. I want to see Ellen, make sure she's all right."

  "Of course she's all right,” the doctor took one last glance and saw that Ellen was presentable. “Come in, see for yourself."

  She pushed past the doctor and strode to Ellen's side. “Are you all right? Are you upset?"

  Ellen gathered herself. She exchanged a long, even look with the doctor and saw his eyes pleading with her. She turned to Tami. “Everything's fine, ma'am."

  "I heard voices. Was there someone else here?” Her eyes roamed the room, settling on the back door. “Did someone just leave?"

  Ellen took a deep breath. “No. That was just the doctor, pretending he was Jack Sawyer. It was part of the therapy."

  The doctor's eyes closed in relief, then opened again when Tami turned toward him. “I don't know what kind of therapy you're doing here, but I don't like it. I plan to report this to Franklin."

  "Of course,” he said, his face a professional mask. “You do what you think is best. I'm sure that you, as a law enforcement professional, know far more about how psychoanalysis works than I do.” He paused. “Especially through a closed door. I'm sure you'll give an accurate description of what went on here."

  His words caused Tami to flinch. Doubt crept into her face. “You may be the expert, but I know when something's hinky."

  "Hinky? Is that going to be your professional description of our session today?"

  Tami's face grew red. She turned to Ellen. “Would you like to stay or go?"

  Ellen eyes focused on the doctor's as she thought about her options. He dropped his gaze and glanced at his watch. “We still have, um, a half-hour, if Ellen would like to continue..."

  Ellen thought about it. She wanted nothing more than to get out of here and never return. She now knew she had been used and why. But she didn't think she could leave without confronting the doctor.

  "I'd like to stay a few more minutes,” she finally said. “I'll be all right."

  Tami's eyes narrowed. She turned her suspicious gaze to Dr. Butler. “Are you sure?” she said, clearly still talking to Ellen.

  "I'm sure. I won't be long."

  Tami waited another beat, then nodded and moved toward the door. She paused there, one hand on it, then turned and said softly, “Be careful, doc.” She left, shutting the door quietly behind her.

  For a few seconds, neither the doctor nor Ellen spoke. Each seemed to be waiting for the other one. Finally, Dr. Butler, nervously rubbing his hands together, said, “I hope my, uh, treatment didn't upset you too much."

  "You bastard!” Ellen pitched her voice low, but her anger was clear. “That wasn't therapy and you know it. That was a debt being repaid. What was it for—drugs or gambling?"

  "Uh, it wasn't like that..."

  "Bullshit!” For the first time in months, Ellen felt her anger return. Her mind was no longer occupied with sex and submission. “Those thugs had something over you and if you don't tell me right now, I'm going to tell Officer Reynolds everything!"

  "Do you think she'd believe you?"

  Ellen scoffed. “You saw her face. She's very suspicious. I'm sure, if I went downtown and looked at mugshots, I'd be able to identify ‘Barney,’ ‘George’ and ‘Ralph,’ even if those aren't their real names."

  Dr. Butler opened his mouth, then closed it. He began to worry the edge of his bottom lip as he thought things through. Finally, he held up his hands. “Okay, okay, don't do that.” He grimaced. “I owed him for a bet I made."

  "He's your bookie?” She shook her head and turned away.

  "Ellen, please understand, I was desperate! They were going to ruin me!"

  "You fail to realize, doctor, that I could ruin you too.” Just like that, the tables had turned. Ellen was now the one with the power. The power to destroy.

  Butler stared at her. “But, you did such things for Sawyer, you never threatened to ruin him."

  She laughed out loud. “There is a world of difference between you and him. I'm surprised you thought you could get away with it."

  His face twisted, as if in pain. “Ellen, when you came to me, your mind was very confused. You seemed consumed by sex—and by Jack Sawyer. You seemed to under his spell despite all he's done to you. You are a classic submissive personality. I ... I thought maybe you would go along if I displayed similar dominate personality traits. You'd automatically obey, just as you've been doing for him. It was just going to be for this one time..."

  Ellen just shook her head. There wasn't any way to explain herself to him. Much of what he said was true—except for the part about mindlessly obeying any dominant personality.

  The doctor rushed on, trying to sway her. “But look at you! You've bounced back! You're probably much more like you were before Jack caught you embezzling!” He rose to his feet and came toward her, beseechingly. “You've become a stronger woman already. Doesn't that count for something?"

  Ellen stared at him for a long moment. He was right—and he was wrong. The near-rape proved one thing to Ellen: that she only wanted to be a slut under the right set of circumstances and only for the right “master.” And Dr. Butler wasn't him.

  She moved toward the door. “I think we're through here, doctor. If you want me to keep quiet about what went on here, I want you to do whatever you can to weaken Franklin's case against Jack."

  "What? Why would you want to do that?"

  "Because I
'm responsible for his predicament. And you know it. I hope he gets off."

  Chapter Twelve

  El felt out of sorts back at the apartment. Used and abused. Tami picked up on it right away.

  "Hey, what's wrong? You okay?"

  "Yeah,” El said at once, not wanting to share her experience with the creepy Dr. Butler. She wished Jack were around to comfort her. “Just a little tired."

  "Here, sit down. Let me rub your shoulders. You look tense."

  El sat on a kitchen chair. She made no objection as Tami moved behind her and began to massage her shoulders, easing the tense muscles there. It felt nice, for a change, to have someone wait on her. She'd been so focused on everyone else's pleasure, she rarely had time for her own. Of course, she had brought that on herself, she knew. She had to pay the piper.

  She groaned, low in her throat, as Tami's fingers dug in. Her tight muscles gave way and a warmth spread throughout her chest.

  "Wait,” Tami said. “Let me get some cream. Don't move."

  El sat, her eyes closed, until the officer returned. She leaned over El's shoulder and told her to take off her top. El obeyed. She had put her bra back on before she had left the doctor's office, so she didn't feel exposed. But she wished she could take it off, but she had to wait for Tami to give her permission.

  Tami surprised her by unsnapping the back without telling her. “Here, let me get rid of this. I don't want your bra straps to get in the way."

  El let the bra fall away and leaned forward slightly so Tami could apply the lotion to her shoulders and upper back. Then the policewoman began to knead her flesh once again, drawing moans of pleasure from El. For several long minutes she expertly dug away El's tension until all her troubles seemed to melt away.

  Tami's hands pulled away for a moment and El thought she was done. But a few seconds later, the hands returned and she was grateful. Then, suddenly, El felt something strange on her shoulder blades. It couldn't be her hands—they were still on her shoulders. They felt like fingers ... She realized what they were with a start—nipples!