Loading...I had just received promotion and was now in a much more senior position. I’d worked my butt of to get this promotion. Mind you, I’m well aware that some people have implied that I’m a back-stabbing bitch, but they’re the losers. You have to be ruthless to get ahead in this world. Business is a dog eat dog world and this bitch is quite capable of taking her share and fending off challengers.
Management loved me. I got the job done. In addition I was lovely to look at and could be absolutely charming. I frequently represented the company during media events and I could wrap reporters around my little finger, charming the socks off them. By the time I was finished my opponents found themselves facing a hostile media.
Take the latest round of lay-offs. OK, so we’d moved some jobs off-shore. We were doing something practical to help developing economies. True, there was some cost locally to doing this but we all have to make sacrifices for the common good. We didn’t fire any one. Those people who got laid off were all voluntary departures. We just didn’t replace them.
Mind you, if the Media ever found out how some of those peoples had been persuaded to voluntarily depart they’d have roasted me on prime time TV, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me.
So here I was, not even twenty five, riding high with a great and glorious future in front of me.
I was now getting ready to go home. It had been a long day and I’d worked late. (Extra kudos if senior management see you working late. Shows you’ve got the companies interest at heart. And it’s amazing what you find out by looking around on people’s desks. People really should lock up sensitive files.)
It was dark outside when I finally caught the lift. When I boarded there were already three people on board. Unusual for that time of night. I guess they’d been working late getting some overtime in. The men looked at me and then looked away. I radiate self-confidence and men find that threatening.
The lift started down and then it suddenly stopped with a jolt. The lights went out and then the emergency lighting came on. We waited for the lift to start again, but nothing. I pressed the intercom button to alert the guards downstairs that we had a problem.
They were all apologetic. Power was out all over the area, they said. A truck had cleaned up a few power poles. Power would be restored shortly. All we could do was wait. So we waited a little longer.
One of the men in the lift was giving me odd looks. Suddenly he spoke up.
“I know who you are,” he said. “You’re Ann Milkins, the new manager of Human Resources.”
I nodded modestly to shown that yes, that’s who I was.
“Thought so,” he said. “You’re the bitch who cost us our jobs.”
The other men were also looking at me now, and not in a friendly manner.
“Excuse me,” I said, “but I haven’t cost anyone their jobs. We’re just accepting voluntary departures at this time and not refilling them.”
“Tell it to someone who might believe you,” the first man snarled.
“Yeah,” snapped another of the men. “We were called in and told we were voluntarily departing with a pretty lousy package. They let us know that if we didn’t accept we’d be departing anyway and wouldn’t get anything. Big fucking choice, bitch.”
I ignored them. If they couldn’t stand the heat let them get into a kitchen. Best place for them.
Then the emergency lighting went out. It was now pitch black. I turned on the flashlight option of my smartphone, found the intercom and pressed the button. No answer. Why didn’t it surprise me?
I still had my phone. I rang the general line, figuring the guards would answer it. They did. They were most apologetic. The emergency generator had broken down. Apparently it hadn’t been serviced regularly and no-one had noticed that it was faulty. We would just have to wait until the main power came on.
There was dead silence in the lift after I hung up. Then the complainer started up.
“Fucking Maintenance Department. They’ve let everything run down. I’m surprised that anything works in the building at all.”
“Their manager laid off most of the staff,” said a second voice. “Said they were wasting their time. Come to think of it, didn’t you use to be the Maintenance Department manager?”
I knew damn well he wasn’t referring to the other men. That had been my old job. I’d been told to make the place more efficient and streamlined, and I had. They couldn’t blame me because a generator broke down.
Apparently they could.
“Stupid bitch, worrying about looking good and not caring if the job was actually getting done. How do you like being in the dark, sweetheart.”
“Probably pretty standard for her,” came a voice. “She never knows what she’s doing anyway.”
Let them carry on. I had a good job and they were on the way out. Screw the lot of them.
“Hey, guys, you know what Russian Roulette is?”
“Sure. A gun with one bullet. You take turns shooting until someone blows their brains out.”
“That’s the game. Ever hear of clothes roulette?”
Dead silence, then negative grunts
“You take turns taking a girl’s clothes off. Every time she comes your way you remove an item of clothing. The lucky guy who finds her naked gets to fuck her. It’s a fun game, especially in the dark. She doesn’t know who’s removed an item of clothing and she doesn’t know who fucks her at the end.”
I said nothing, appalled. They wouldn’t dare. Fortunately, one of the men spotted the flaw in the plan.
“Ah, what’s to stop the woman having us arrested afterwards.”
“You get her to volunteer to play,” said the first voice. “The way we volunteered to resign. If she agrees, one of us fucks her at the end. You never know, she may be lucky and have the power on before we reach that point. If she doesn’t agree we can all just grab her and fuck her right now. We’re all out of a job anyway so I say fuck her.”
“I’m in,” came a second voice.
“Me, too,” came the third.
“So, Ms Ann Milkins, are you volunteering, knowing the penalty if you don’t?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I said, putting a layer of ice in my voice.
A hand touched me, found an arm and ran down it, until whoever it was had my wrist. Then my hand was plastered against someone’s erection. Not safely behind his pants, but free and ready to play. I tried to jerk my hand away but the man held it firmly, continuing to hold my hands against his erection.
“Make your choice, lady,” he growled. “Agree and put off the time you get closer acquainted or refuse and get acquainted right now. Remember, if you can hold us off long enough you may escape without getting fucked, which would be a terrible shame.”
Talk about fucked if I did or fucked if I didn’t. I guess what really counted was getting fucked once or getting fucked three times. With a bit of luck I could fight off the one man. I had no chance of fighting off all of them.
“If I agree, I reserve the right to fight off the man who tries to fuck me. The others aren’t allowed to help him.”
“Seems reasonable to me,” someone said, and that seemed to be the consensus.
“Your terms seem reasonable,” I was told. “Are you agreeing?”
“Yes,” I said, furious. Oh, I was so going to get them for this.
“OK, boys. As soon as you remove an item of clothing move back until you’re touching the lift wall. That’ll give the other two a chance to tag her. Since I’m currently holding her, I’ll start.”
I assumed that he’d start with my jacket, seeing he was holding my arm, but he didn’t. He groped around until he found the fastenings on my skirt and undid it, pushing it down. By a strange coincidence his hand happened to bump against my pussy while he was doing it.
Then I was released.
“Done,” he said, and a nightmare started. I crouched down, hoping they wouldn’t find me but one idiot managed to fall on me.
“Caught her,” he called, “and her panties are mine. Ah, change that. She’s wearing pantyhose.”
Hands eagerly pulled my pantyhose off and I was released again. My shoes had come off with my pantyhose which I considered unfair. They should each have been considered separate items.
My panties went next. What was it with these creeps? They all wanted to get the bottom half naked first. Then it was my jacket, followed by my blouse. The worst part was that each one took his chance to touch me in the most inappropriate places, and there was nothing I could do.
My bra was the last item and I was getting desperate. It didn’t take them long to catch me again. A lift, two metres by two metres. Where the hell could I run? My bra came off and hands cupped my breasts.
“She’s naked,” called a voice. “Everyone get back against the rear wall. That way we all get an equal chance.”
“Ah, where’s the rear wall?” someone asked.
“This one,” said someone else. “Just come to my voice.”
There was movement on the lift and then silence. A brilliant idea on my part. I hopped up on the hand rail that ran around the lift, standing in one corner.
“Are you ready, Ann? Here we come.”
I could hear them groping around, cursing. I stayed silent, trying not to even breathe.
“Can we turn on a phone light?” protested a voice.
“No, you wimp,” said another. “That’d be cheating. She’s in here. Just find her.”
A hand landed on my leg, running up it and goosing me. I squealed while a triumphant voice laughed.
“I’ve found out little pigeon. She was roosting up high. Come on down.”
With that I was grabbed around the waist and lifted down from the handrail. Whoever it was let me slide down his body. I could feel his erection pressing against my legs. My god, I was at a real disadvantage. He could slide me straight down and onto his cock before I had a chance to fight him off. He didn’t, fortunately. He placed me on the floor.
Standing there he gave out some instructions.
“Bystanders will move to neutral corners. Let the contestants come out fighting.”
I heard shuffling as the other two men moved to the corners. I took a vicious swing at where the voice had been and hit nothing. I took a couple more swings, panting with the effort. A hand gripped my ankle and his other hand chopped behind my knee. I’m not sure how he found my ankle, just groping around while down low, I guess. My panting would have told him roughly where I was. The chop behind the knee was straight forward. Once he had my ankle he just had to chop a bit above it.
My leg buckled and I came down, finding him thoughtful enough to catch me and break my fall. Not that it helped me much. I still finished up flat on my back with him rolling onto me.
Kicking wasn’t doing anything. I tried to punch him but where do I aim? His hands ran over my body, finding my arms easily enough. Not that seeking my arms stopped him from taking time to squeeze my breasts on the way past. When he found my arms he just ran his hands down them until he had my wrists, then he pushed them above my head and held them there with a single hand.
He had one leg between mine, holding them apart, and I could feel his erection pressing against me. His mouth came down, seeking and finding a breast, and he bit it lightly, then sucked on it. I wouldn’t have teeth marks but I probably would have some love bites on my breasts.
His free hand was making busy further down, rubbing my mound, arousing it. I didn’t want to be aroused, but he was quite skilled at making me so. His fingers dipped inside me, probing, touching, feeling me. I gave a cry of shock when he brushed against my clit, feeling the shock of it run through me. I also heard muffled laughter from the corners.
He suddenly shifted, lying more fully on me, a hand on my pussy, holding my lips apart. I could feel his erection moving into position, easing between my parted lips. I writhed and twisted and he rode me, staying with me, while his cock first touched lightly against me and then pressed more heavily.
His hand withdrew, joining his other hand in holding my wrists, now holding my arms apart. His cock started pressing into me.
I wriggled and squirmed, trying to pull away from him, trying to stop him entering me. He just lay on me, letting me wriggle and squirm, and when I stopped for a moment he’d push in a little more. The further in he went the harder it became for me to struggle. I gave up the struggle entirely when I found he wasn’t pushing in any longer. He was just holding still while I was effectively wriggling myself onto his cock.
I sagged back against the floor and he pushed triumphantly home, his groin rubbing firmly against mine.
“Now you can just lie there while I have my fun,” he said quietly, “but you might as well ride me properly. You’re going to be fucked so why not do your part?”
I was spitting chips, but he had a point. What did I gain by not cooperating? Nothing. He’d already got me aroused and his cock was deep in me. Boy, was it in me. I could feel every inch of it and it seemed to me as though there were a lot of inches.
He started moving, slowly at first, while I pushed slowly to meet him. Satisfied that things were going smoothly he started lengthening his strokes, pulling right back and driving in hard, and I push up just as hard to take him. Always make the best of a bad deal is my motto.
I did notice that he didn’t let go my hands. Probably wise of him.
Once he got moving he really got moving. The slaps of our groins coming together were loud in the lift, and I could hear comments coming from the corners, the losers cheering the winner on.
He took me hard and fast, making no allowances for me. I could have been a virgin and it would have made no difference. He was having his fun and, if I wanted mine, I’d better hop to it and put some effort in.
Usually I’m in control of matters sexual, men competing for my favour. To be just taken in a “I’m screwing you and fuck you if you can’t handle it” way was exciting. He drove repeatedly into me, ravishing me, while I bucked under him, determined to get my share.
The excitement kept on rising. I was squealing eagerly, much to my disgust, but I couldn’t seem to help it. My body wanted this man and what he was doing, reacting fiercely to every thrust he made. It just seemed to keep on getting better.
My squealing eventually died away. I didn’t have the breath to keep it up. I was gasping, making little grunting sounds, every upthrust to meet him an effort, needing him more and more. I was both infuriated and pleased when I climaxed. I’d wanted to keep on going, but wow, what a climax.
He climaxed as well. I felt him ejaculating inside me. Then he was rolling off me, leaving me lying there. I had to find my clothes and put them on, I told myself, but for a minute or so I was reluctant to move.
The men were talking and it took a minute for what they were saying to sink in.
“Which of you want to be next?” voice one asked.
“We can’t. She’d charge us with rape,” came the protest.
“Charge who with rape? She gave me permission, so she can’t charge me. Neither does she know which of us I am. So if you two take turns she won’t know which two to charge, now will she?”
Did the law work that way? I had a nasty suspicion that it probably did. If three people had sex with you and only one had permission, you could charge the other two, but only if you knew which two? I wouldn’t.
The point became moot. One of them was kneeling at my side.
“OK, Ann,” came a happy voice. “Roll onto your hands and knees, bum up, head down. Bitches should do it doggy style.”
I found myself obeying, rolling over and elevating my bottom, my pussy already anticipating the next invasion. My god. I couldn’t be enjoying this violation of my womanhood, could I? I had a lowering feeling that indeed I could, underlined by my happy squeal when his cock drove in.
Goodness, this was so humiliating.