It began with a dress.
She had always loved it. Loved how men looked at her when she wore it. But she always felt a little guilty. She had built her rep and her career on being being smart, forthright and right pretty much all the time. She fought the office battles on equal terms and never allowed her sexuality to come into it.
So why did she feel such a anxiety about looking good? Was she letting herself down? But something always drove her back into that dress. The fleeting glimpse of shame quickly surpassed by the barely suppressed grin as she felt the impossibly light material slip against her hips and cling to her buttocks and the sure knowledge of the stares that followed her.
And it’s crimson hues matched her blush.
“Lovely dress” was all he said and suddenly he had her attention. She looked into his eye to politely thank him and was floored by a hunger she saw there. He was composed and casual. But his eyes gave him away. She felt him greedily eat her up across the conference table and a heat rushed over her.
He was the head of some dept, as was she. Their paths had crossed a few times and she realized she had noticed him before as she passed by his office on the way to the bathroom.
He was not her usual type. She most often found herself with men like Jared – somewhat athletic, solid if somewhat unimaginative.
He was the antithesis. Where Jared wore t-shirts and cut-offs this man wore a crisp and contemporary suit. Where Jared slouched this man walked straight and tall, his angular features and slender frame giving him a commanding air. Where Jared was easy going this man was a force and was known within the company to be less than agreeable on many occasions.
She stuttered some reply and looked away. But as the meeting wore on she became more and more aware of his eyes returning to her.
As the meeting closed she engineered herself to get by him as the rooms occupants squeezed through the doorway and he lightly placed his palm against the small of her back as he offered her the exit.
Her skin still tingled from touch minutes later as she let herself into the spacious bathroom on the executive floor. Locking the door she stood before the mirror admiring herself, she put her hand where his was and with another she cupped and squeezed a breast through her dress thinking about how it might look if it where his hand.
She had masturbated many times in this cool space, often watching herself in the mirror and today was to be no exception. Her panties pushed down to her thighs and a hand between her legs she stared at herself and her blurring fingers.
Afterwards she would be shocked at herself at the images that came to her mind. Often sexually she saw herself in a more dominant role. But today she could think of little else than kneeling before him and taking him in her mouth. Of being roughly held down, having her hair pulled as he pushed himself in her. She felt she was going to come hard and she squatted down to spread herself wide. Reaching back to caress her anus lightly with a fingertip her head bowed and her face just inches from her panties that where stretched dangerously between her knees. She smells her own sex on her panties and the aroma, the dirtiness of it – squatting in a bathroom playing with herself inhaling her own musk – drives her over the edge and she bucks as she is racked by the orgasm.
The next day she has the oddest experience, an almost sensory illusion. A pheremone hallucination. As she passed his office she sees him staring out at her, seemingly in deep thought and as her eyes meet his her nose is suddenly filled with the aroma from her session in the bathroom the previous day. As if from nowhere she can smell and taste nothing but her own sex and suddenly the sensation passes as quickly as it began. She stumbles a little in surprise and as she curses herself she sees him up and at his door, lightning fast.
“Are you OK?” he enquires and his smile seems genuine.
She is flustered and waves him off. As she walks away she is strongly aware of his eyes on her and the fire burring between her legs.
Another visit to the bathroom is surely due.
She cannot resist. The memory and intensity of the hallucination and the magnetism of this man draws her to him. She finds reasons to pass his office several times a day. The hallucination is not repeated but now she has taken to actively burying her face in her own underwear when she comes in the echoey privacy of the bathroom just yards from his office.
On the third day she surprises herself again. As she squats in the bathroom she detects a second scent under the smell of her own pussy. The faintest hint of stale pee and as she realizes this she is overwhelmed with shame and also desire. Her fingers shake as she sniffs again – first timidly then inhaling deeply. She cannot believe what she thinks to do and like a character in a cartoon looks around to see if she is being seen even though she knows she is alone.
She pulls her panties back up and lowers herself onto the toilet seat. Holding her dress up and looking between her own legs she holds her breath. Seconds tick by. Nothing. She exhales hard and a tiny spurt of pee escapes her and soaks into the gusset of her panties.
She laughs at herself and slides a hand inside her underwear. So very wet. She brings her fingers to her face and sniffs. Smells good. Something in it reminds her of fresh coffee and she pees again – this time a bold spurt that escapes her underwear and lands in the bowl.
Now she has two hands between her legs, both inside and out of her sodden underwear as she wriggles and enjoys the wet clingyness.
She raises a finger to her lips and her head swims with images of him as she comes while tasting her own piss for the very first time.
She tells Jared nothing of this. She suspects he would be disgusted. In some ways so is she. But, as she sits at her desk, her panties still damp between her legs she realizes this is the allure. It is the fact that this behavior is disgusting that makes her want to do it. She realizes that she hungers for the humiliation of this private dirtiness. It is the knowledge of her own abandon that drives her to it day after day.
She asks herself how far will she go? Her mind wanders down dark streets. She sees herself in a new light. A secret slut with shame to share and suddenly she starts from her reverie.
He is standing in the doorway.
“will you do something for me?” he asks.
Her mind races. Yes. probably anything. She nods, not trusting her voice.
“Will you wear that dress again tomorrow?”
“Dress?” she blurts
“Yes, the red one one you wore earlier this week. It pleases me” (who uses a phrase like ‘it pleases me’ she thinks) ” and I have an important meeting tomorrow. That dress. Well. It makes me focussed”
“Er… I don’t know.” She is frazzled and surprised and this makes her defensive. before she can check herself she is denying him “I don’t think thats really appropriate do you?”
He shrugs and turns away.
“Well, think about it”
She does. All night. By seven she has vowed she will not wear it. By eight the dress has mysteriously made it’s way onto the back of a chair in her bed room. By nine she is sure she will not wear it. Will not be treated as an object for his entertainment. Will not be degraded and judged only on her looks. By ten she is staring at the dress over Jareds’ shoulder as he fucks her and as she comes her mind is full of images of degradation and abandonment. She sees the dress through slitted eyes as she imagines being used by him instead of Jared and her mind is made up.
The sense of ambiguity is multiplied by a hundred. She is simultaneously angry and joyous. She is not used to acting on instruction from a man and by the time she reaches the office that morning she is occilating between different states. She is wildly turned on. Her body was never as present as it seemed that day. She could feel every inch of herself and the touch of the dress on her skin like a bath of raw heat. She is also ashamed of herself and hence angry. She tells herself it’s no big deal, that she is doing a co-worker a favor but her heart doesn’t buy the rationalization. She knows that she has stepped onto a path that leads away from who she is and what made her feel strong and powerful. And yet there is another edge to the shame. It is the shame itself that makes her feel more alive in her own skin than she has ever felt. She wants to deny it but there is a strange and thrilling freedom of giving over a part of herself.
But anger rules the moment. She feels she should confront, show her strength, not her vulnerability and she stalks to his office door.
Before she can speak, begin her unplanned sarcastic tirade he looks up and the look on his face melts her resolve. Just seeing the desire in his eyes obliterates the anger.
“My goodness, you are very beautiful” he says and the words disarm her even more.
Her resolve has not caught up with her emotions but her emotions overwhelm her tone. She had meant to bitingly, sarcastically ask “So what would you like me to wear tomorrow?”. Instead it comes out, soft, genuine. She finds herself calmly asking him what he wants her to wear the next day. This is not going as she planned.
He stares at her for a long time. Thinking hard. Silence. She holds her ground, not knowing what else to do. This is the long moment of transition. The point where their relationship will change forever. Everything hangs on the response. The room seems to shrink around them.
He smiles and looks her direct in the eye as he speaks. They both know something important is happening here and they both know each other know.
“The short black denim skirt with the stitching on the side, the purple satin shirt you got in the sample sale, The Choo heels you first wore to last years holiday party, no stockings and the simple silver necklace you wear with the earrings that you always wear on Thursdays.”
Her mouth moves and nothing comes out.
She has often read the phrase ‘lost for words’ but for the first time in her life is experiencing it. She simply nods, turns and staggers back to her own office.
Her mind is reeling. Before the previous week she had hardly paid attention to this man and yet he seems to know her – or at least her wardrobe as well as herself. She realizes the full strength of the attention this man must have paid her over the time they have worked alongside one another. Most of her boyfriends – Jared included – wouldn’t notice if she went to work in a Ninja outfit. Yet here is this man who seemingly clocks and remembers every move she makes and has listened oh so carefully whenever she speaks even when she hardly realized he was in the room.
She smiles and laughs to herself. At least now she won’t have to worry about what to wear every day.
She is distracted all day hardly able to concentrate and her cunt nags at her to be touched. She feels like a fourteen year old in the grip of a wild crush. Except she knows this is more sophisticated, more complex. This isn’t about a cute boy. This is way deeper. She knows this man is attractive but that his hold over her is more meaningful. It’s not about good looks and pure desire. It’s about what he is unlocking within her. A dark side. A woman that wants to be told how to dress, how to act. To be submissive and dirty and have secrets. But this dark side has an honesty to it that makes her breathe deeper and more freely.
Giddily she calls Office Services and asks that the new temp assistant she requires be located at a desk at the end of the work area – directly outside his office.
The ironic contrast between the her appearance and her behavior does not escape her. She dresses well, takes great pride in her appearance. Chooses her clothing to project power, control and, yes, wealth. She loves a designer shoe probably more than the next woman. And here she is, looking strong and confidant and in control in the black denim and the colorful shirt on her way to work. Nobody could guess how debased she is becoming behind locked doors, how filthy. Last night Jared was unable to make her come so after he fell asleep she made her way to the bathroom and dug several pairs of her own soiled underwear out the laundry basket as well as pair of sweaty shorts that Jared had played basketball in. She worked her way through her own underwear, sniffing and licking at the panties as she sunk her fingers into her pussy. She finds the vaguest shadow of a skid mark in the back of Jareds’ shorts and thrills to find herself sniffing at it while she masturbates.
Who would know that this powerhouse executive was, just a few hours earlier in the dead of night climbing into her empty tub to shimmy awkwardly and uncomfortably until her pelvis was raised above her head on the side of the bath to let out a stream of hot piss across her own belly, breasts and onto her face? Who would guess that she came last night with the taste of her own urine in her mouth and beading on her lips as she sniffed underwear almost upside down in a cold tub?
And yet, this duality was from from dividing her. She felt freer, more light hearted than she had felt in a long time.
The little black box was sitting on her chair. Most would leave a gift or note on the desk, by her keyboard but he has chosen this placement carefully she thinks. Right where her ass spends most of its day.
She open it carefully. A black leather cuff. Both delicate and crude in it’s design. She recognizes the designer label, not cheap she smiles to herself. The post-it below bears one simple word, hand written: ‘tomorrow’.
Somehow this does not surprise her. Of course this would happen. Of course he would provide her with a symbolic yoke. A mark of his ownership and her allegiance to him. This is how these things should be done.
But she will not give him everything. She wants to be devilish, playful. She wants to set her own pace, buck his control a little and she straps the cuff to her left wrist even though it seems out of place with the shirt he has chosen for her today. She smiles to herself at the cleverness of her move and countermove. She will take his instruction but always show him that she is independent, capable of resisting. She will not wear the cuff tomorrow. She will wear it today.
A tiny voice inside of her knows this victory is ridiculous. That she is only accelerating the final obliteration of her sense of control but she brushes it aside uncaring.
“Thank you, it’s lovely” she says, feeling stronger and more in control in his presence than she has in a week as she stands in his doorway. She has teased him all day – using her body as a tool to regain the upper hand (or so she tells herself). Several times she has found reasons to work long minutes with the temp outside his office. Hotly aware of his eyes on her as she leans over the desk presenting her rump wrapped in denim to him and kicking up her heels to show him the scarlet sole. Ostentatiously waving files in the air to draw attention to the cuff.
“You are very welcome.” he says “a woman of your looks only deserves the finest accessories”. Is he laughing at her or are they amused together?
Uninvited she takes a seat in a low arm chair opposite across from his desk, perching on the edge and playing with the cuff so she does not need to meet his eye.
“So what shall it be tomorrow?” she asks ever gaining in confidence.
His reply is instantaneous, “The tight black knit sweater and the tan skirt. And the knee-high boots you wore to the board meeting two weeks ago.”
She nods. It’s a good combination that had not ever occurred to her. She has rehearsed the next line in her mind all day but her voice quakes a little as she asks. This is truly the point of no return.
“What about underwear?” as coyly as she can manage.
His office is spacious and open as befits an executive in such a large organization but to both of them it seems to shrink to a tiny box, the air hot and cloying despite the extreme air conditioning. A space big enough only for their bodies.
“Well….” he pauses, raising an eyebrow in recognition of the challenge “… what are you wearing now?”
Her heart races, she feels a lump in her throat and her head is swimming. She knows what she wants to do. What she must do if she is to retain any sense of control over this situation but the bald brazenness of it is intimidating. Her mind is racing. Does she have guts for this? Is this the kind of woman she is? What if she has misread this entire situation?
And then she realizes she has already done it. While her mind was whirring her body took control, uncrossed her legs, leaned back in the chair and parted her knees just enough to give him a direct view of her pussy wrapped on black satin.
She glares at him, knees spread, challenging and long moments pass as he stares between her knees. She sees him flush just a little and she is filled with a glowing sense of triumph. She has power over this man! It is her very submission that gives her the upper hand! Her mind races with the implication: to feel the full force of owning and controlling another human being by being owned and controlled in turn. It is a powerful and deep contract and the realization of this hits her with enough force to knock her breath away. She is grateful that the shirt does not show her chest or he would surely see her heart beating through her rib cage. But she is unwavering, holds the pose, holds his rapt attention.
He shifts uncomfortably in his chair but his eyes never leave the dark space between her knees. She realizes that he is hard and his suit pants bend irregularly. Power rushes to her as control slinks away.
Finally, after what seems an hour, he raises his eyes to lock with hers, even though she holds the pose.
“Nothing” he says and his voice is hoarse. “You will wear no underwear. First thing in the morning you will go the the bathroom down the hall here” he nods towards her favorite private place, she flushes, does he know of her secret activity there? ” take off your panties and deliver them to me. I will return them to you at the end of the day.”
And so it is done. She has crossed the line. She feels exhausted and thrilled. Her limbs are weak and she is barely able to nod assent, climb out of the chair and stumble back to her office his gaze following her all the way.
Her hand shakes as she hands him the manilla folder containing her panties the next morning. She feels wildly exposed and giddily free, the cool air ever present on her naked ass and pussy beneath her skirt. She feels constantly in danger and is thrilled with it. Why did she never think of going ‘al-fresco’ before she wonders?
He cracks the folder and peeks inside, nodding approval at the red satin.
“I trust you wore them all night?” How well he knows her. She masturbated herself to climax three times last night night in the dark by Jareds’ sleeping form while wearing them. Just thinking about this moment and the previous days events. Her mind filled with images of submission she had stared at all night online while pretending to work late in her home office. It was all she could do to not soak them with pee. But she was definitely not ready to reveal this deeply dirty activity to him. And probably never would she tells herself.
“So you are not wearing anything under there?” he enquires and she nods sheepishly.
“May I see?” Her heart jumps. She wants nothing more than to expose herself to this man at this moment but what if anyone where to see? She looks back through the office glass. It’s deserted, too early for most. She looks back at him, locks his gaze and takes the hem of her skirt in both fists and quickly raises it to reveal her nakedness below. It is the quickest of flashes but he is forced to sit in order to disguise his arousal.
He glances at his calendar “3 o’clock?” he asks and she is startled by the change of theme.
“3 O’clock we have the partner meeting. Shall I see you there?”
She nods, a little shaken. She had somehow expected more. She had just demonstrated her allegiance to him and all he wanted to do was check on a meeting? She returns to her desk, slightly confused but soon she is sure that he has something in mind for her at three and she begins to feel better.
The day takes forever. Unable to think of nothing other than her nakedness under her skirt she can hardly concentrate. And she misses her underwear for those secret moments in the bathroom. Without her underwear she misses those intoxicating rushes of dirtiness. She finds other routes to satisfaction. Thinking of the submissive imagery she found online she kneels on the bathroom floor and jams four fingers uncomfortably into her anus as she masturbates whispering to herself “yes sir, fuck my ass please sir, use me sir” over and over until she comes.
He is already in the room when she arrives for the three o’clock. She is in a haze. She barely notices the meeting is even over. For the whole hour she stares at his chest. He is wearing a dash of color he did not have this morning. A bright red satin pocket square peeks out of his suit.
As the light fades he appears again in her office doorway, manilla folder in hand. Before he returns it to her he takes a seat, tapping and caressing the folder as he talks as they both now whats inside.
“You have a boyfriend yes?” he asks
She nods, unsure. She didn’t plan on revealing this but she sees no benefit in lying to a man who is holding her panties in his hand. She almost giggles.
“Whats his name?”
“Ah yes, Jared. And does Jared fuck you regularly?”
Now she does laugh. “yes, yes – occasionally”
“But not as often as you’d prefer I see” he tilts his head slightly sympathetically.
“Its complicated” She doesn’t want to go down this route. She isn’t looking for a therapist.
“All relationships are” he smiles, “that aside, will Jared fuck you tonight?”
He interrupts her with a wave of the hand, “In the ass or pussy?”
Her mouth hangs open for a moment. She is shocked to hear these dirty words – these dirty ideas outlaid between two so seemingly civilized individuals.
“in…in…” she can find no better way to say but as she speaks she loves the sound of her voice uttering such abrupt things “in the pussy. He fucks my pussy.” Now she wants to say more, to be dirtier, to show him she is no wall flower “but I… I’ve been fucked in the ass. Lots. I like it”. She hears herself sounding like a pouty teenager and knows she is lying. She did it once, in college and Jared never asked. But she thinks about it a lot.
“well you are a dirty little slut aren’t you?” he smiles. Her pussy is throbbing hard and she lowers her head, playing along
“yes, I am”.
“Very well then. Tonight have Jared fuck you in the pussy and ass. And make sure you have these panties in your mouth while doing it.”
She just stares at him, simultaneously wondering how she will broach this subject with Jared and wondering why he wants another man to fuck her. Doesn’t he know he can fuck her right now if he asks? Does he know about her panty ‘thing’? Is that why he brings it up?
“Do you understand your instructions slut?” He asks leveling his gaze at her.
She says nothing. Too much to take in.
He lays the folder on her desk, “Good then we have an understanding” and he leaves her.
Turmoil. She hadn’t much thought about Jared. To be honest she never much thought about Jared. But now he had brought him into their relationship. Why? What was happening? Was this really where she wanted to be?
Her fingers found the edge of her panties inside the folder and her mind ignites the scene. She sees herself being butt-fucked, used like a cheap whore, fucked by a man through another man with a pair of dirty panties stuffed in her mouth and suddenly she understands. Tonight he will fuck her, by proxy. She balls the panties in her fist and hurries to collect her coat.
She wants it.
Ultimately she gives up on finding a way to ask Jared to use her behind and decides that action is far less embarrassing. She knew she would have trouble seeing it through unless she was very, very turned on but this proved easy. Given the events of the day and an hour in the bathroom playing with herself and stretching her anus with her fingers but not allowing herself to come she felt a sufficient sense of wild abandonment.
Somehow she naturally maneuvered their love making into a position where she was lying flat on her stomach and Jared was fucking her from behind. Several times he had commented on how extraordinarily wet she was. She could not tell if found this to be a good or bad thing.
Finally she plucked up the courage. She imagined him standing in the corner of the room watching her being taken from behind and this gave her the motivation. She would show him what a proper slut she truly was.
She reached back behind herself as Jared paused in his thrusting for a moment and grabbed his stiff cock in her fist. Raising it slightly she held the head against her anus and pushed back against him. Before he could respond he was half an inch inside her and she grunted with the surprise of it.
“You sure about this?” asked Jared and she simply responded by pulling him deeper into her asshole.
“Alright” he grunted and slowly sank his full length into her behind.
She had made sure the lights where off and using her body as a shield she retrieved the panties from under the pillow where she had placed them earlier without him seeing.
Pressing them against her face she inhaled. her own scent and an unfamiliar one. Opening her mouth she pushed the panties inside and closed her lips around them. Now with a hand free she was able sink a finger into her pussy while Jared slid in and out of her behind.
It hurt to begin with. A tremendous sense of fullness. It was not so much the actual sensation – it felt undeniably good to her – but the idea of what was happening that tipped her over the edge. Jared came inside her anus in less than a minute and by reciting to herself the situation she was able to join him in the climax. “here I am, being fucked in the ass, at the request of another man, because he told me to do it, with my dirty panties in my mouth. I am a whore, a slut, I am dirty”. And she came.
“Did you thank him for fucking your dirty little asshole?” he enquired as she handed over a fresh pair of panties the next morning.
“No, no I didn’t. I was too embarrassed.”
“You should always thank a man after he fucks you you know. It’s polite” She looks away, she feels like a school girl reporting to the headmaster.
“And did you clean his cock with your mouth after?” She just stares. The crudity of this notion is beyond anything that had ever occurred to her.
“Did you ask him for permission to come?”
“No. i didn’t”.
“did you come?”
“yes. yes I did.”
“You should always ask for permission to come you know. Did he ejaculate in your ass?”
“yes, yes he did.”
“And what did you do with his come?”
“I… I just.. ” this is way more intimate than she was ready for “i just, you know, went to the bathroom…”
“I see. And you didn’t ask him if you should eat his come out of your ass?”
“I… I .. I dunno I….”
“well I see we still have a lot of work to do with you then miss. Much work”
She lowers her head in humiliation.
“Now show me that dirty little pussy of yours and go back to your desk and think about how you might do better tonight.”
Training. That was what it was about she realized sitting back at her desk. He was training her, making her ready for him.
All those disgusting and humiliating things he had asked – he was just making sure she was prepared for him.
And she resolved that she would do all he asked. Tomorrow she would pass his test. Already the thought of debasing herself had her loins glowing.
Late in the afternoon she went for her now hourly masturbation sessions in the bathroom and was surprised when the door sprung open as she reached for the handle.
It was him.
“well hello. Perfect timing”
She turned to flee but checked herself. She had as much right to the bathroom as anyone.
“Come inside, I have something for you”
At last she thought, he is going to fuck me in the bathroom. Thank god. And she strode past him as he closed the door making sure nobody saw them together.
He locked the door and she took two steps toward him ready to throw her arms around him.
“Not yet” he laughed holding her back, “I have a gift, pull up your skirt and go sit down”
She hesitated, unsure but then obliged. It thrilled her to be naked from the waist down in front of him.
She sat, enjoying having her knees parted in his company and he handed her a plastic zip lock bag from within his jacket.
It contained the panties she had given him that morning.
“Go ahead, open it” he said as he crossed the room and leaned casually against the opposite wall to her.
She looked at him and then the bag. Cracking the seal she was hit by the smell of semen.
“Ejaculate in your panties? Absolutely. Do you know what to do?”
“Do you want me to put them on?”
“Shortly, but first I want you to clean them”. She eyes the sink… “with your mouth” he corrects her.
“You want me to lick your come out of my panties?”
“while you watch?”
Slowly she pulls them out the bag and lets it drop to the floor. She is unsure but when she looks at him she realizes he is ultra tense under his casual demeanor. She realizes, once again, that she holds the cards to this relationship. He pushes her but she chooses the step. And every step she takes the more he is hers.
She unravels the panties. Still warm. he must have come only minutes before. A large gob of sticky white fluid sits in the gusset. She raises it to her lips and looking directly into his eyes she sinks then end of her tongue into it and scoops the globule into her mouth.
He is almost vibrating with excitement and his prick makes a tent-pole in his pants.
She swallows. Most of the come is gone, absorbed by the material which is wet with the moisture. She takes the gusset in her fingers – puts it to her lips, her nose, inhales.
“may I touch myself?” she asks
She spreads her pussy with one hand and begins teasing her clit as with the other she slowly rubs the soaked underwear across her face, rubbing his juice on her chin, cheeks, nose forehead and neck until she is covered in a thin moist film of his fluid – never loosing eye contact.
They are both breathing hard but his arms remain crossed.
“May I come?”
“Absolutely” his voice is hoarse.
She closes her eyes, pushing the gusset of the panties between her lips she spreads her legs even wider and comes in seconds inhaling the scent of him on her face.
When she opens her eyes again he is right in front of her, leaning in to stare at her face. He puts a finger under her chin and gently raises it.
“You are so beautiful” he says pulling the panties out of her mouth he leans in and their lips touch for lightest of kisses. She shudders and moves to kiss him fully but he pulls back, opens her mouth with a finger on her chin and pushes the panties back inside.
“Wear those to the drinks tonight” he says and suddenly the door opens and closes and she is alone, slouched on a toilet, her pussy dripping wet, covered in come, trembling with a pair of dirty panties in her mouth.
Drinks? she thinks.
Her underwear is literally sticking to her as she makes her way to the bar. An after work cocktail – a celebration of the close of project. Virtually the whole office is there. She spies him almost immediately across the crowded bar but it takes an hour to work her way near tom him. She wants to connect – to talk – to flirt but she doesn’t know about what or how. Her attention is distracted by someone from marketing who wants to talk about some future project and suddenly she realizes he is no longer in the room.
Her phone buzzes. A text.
‘Outside. Rear door, past bathrooms.’
It takes an eon to push her way through the crowd and discard her glass but finally she finds the rear door of the bar and pushes out onto a dark, deserted alleyway. Almost deserted. He leans against a wall behind the door.
He pulls her to him, taking her in his arms and pressing their bodies together. She feels herself go limp in his embrace and raises her face to be kissed but instead he puts his mouth to her ear and whispers.
“Are you enjoying the things I make you do?” he asks and she nods
“yes” she whispers back into his neck
“You know I want you very badly” he whispers, she nods, she knows it “but there are things that must happen first. You must be ready.”
“I’ll be ready” she whispers ‘I promise”.
“Good. Now do you have any idea what I need from you now?” She stiffens a little. Another test? She is both disappointed and excited.
“I want you to wet yourself, like a little girl. Have you ever wet yourself on purpose?”
She pulls back to look into his face, searching. How can he know about her secret proclivities? Surely he cannot… She wants to lie and say no but whats the point in lying to this man? Just hours ago she masturbated in front of him with him come all over face and in her mouth. Why should she hide herself?
It comes out as a sigh, a wave of relief to have someone to finally share her most intimate side with herself. ‘Yes. yes I have.’
“Good,’ and she can tell from his tone that he a little surprised. At least that means no secret camera in the washroom she thinks, “Do it for me now. Wet your panties for me”.
“Right here?” she asks somewhat incredulous.
“Right here” he says and he turns them both around until she is leaning back against the wall. Roughly he pulls her hips out, hikes up her skirt just enough to remain decent and pushes her feet apart until she stands, leaning back with her ankles slightly wider than shoulder width.
“Right here” he says again. He holds her at arms length, holding her shoulders and looks at the patch of gowned between her feet. “Now”
She looks up and down the alley. They are alone.
What the heck she thinks and lets go.
A hot stream jets through her thin panties and hits the ground between them. It seems like the loudest noise in the world to her. She wants to stop but now she is committed she allows her bladder to empty. Her underwear is soaked and she feels a trickle running down her leg. The stink of her piss surrounds and engulfs them. She has never felt so dirty as she does now and she thrills to it. He pulls her close and his mouth is on hers. As his tongue finds hers she feels his hand up her thigh and inside her soaking underwear. He pulls the underwear to the side and deeply sinks two fingers into her pussy and begins to quickly finger fuck her while kissing her deeply.
She scrabbles to find his cock through his pants with her hand and abruptly it is over. He pulls away, holding her wrist.
“No not yet” he says breathing hard. She can tell he is wrestling with his own overwhelming desire. “Go back inside. I… I need a minute”
Confused, a little hurt but more turned on and more desiring this man than any in her life so far she pushes herself off the wall and stumbles back inside. Fortunately the bathroom is vacant and she takes a full ten minutes to collect herself and calm down.
She must complete her tasks this evening. For the good of them both. It cannot go on like this she thinks.
She returns to the party, finds a new drink and downs it in one before ordering another. He is there, across the room – his coat over his arm, readying to leave. As he exits he makes a right turn instead of a left to the door. He comes directly up to her and leans in to whisper in her ear.
“Thank you. That was wonderful”. He raises his glass to toast her and she obliges before he finishes his drink.
He smiles at her with genuine affection and a little wickedness, leans in for one parting whispered shot before he turns and leaves,
“I can smell your stinking pee soaked panties you filthy slut”.
She about buckles.
She was fairly drunk by the time she got home and slipped into a deep hot bath with another glass of wine. Her whole body ached and she could think of nothing else but the events of the day and what she must do that evening. Her supremely soiled underwear lay on the side of the tub and occasionally she would pick them up and inhale the complex aromas. His come. Her come. Her piss. Her mind swam with it.
She felt both more relaxed than she had ever felt in her life and more tense. Her body a taught string of sensation. Her mind a whirl of images and memories.
She was over Jared now. He was just a means to end. She would willingly walk out today if she did not need him a puzzle piece in this theater of desire. In retrospect she knew that she was only biding time with him anyway.
He belonged to the old her. But now she had found a new side to herself. No, thats not right. The sides of herself where coming together. Forming a whole. Her shame and her desires where now the same thing. He was uniting her.
So freed from her embarrassment was she, and partially fueled by the wine, that she found no problem in asking outright.
“Fuck me in the ass will you?” she demanded and jared was clearly shocked.
She delighted in her sluttyness as she held her buttocks open wide with both hands, her ass in the air to allow him entry and as he pushed into her dark hole she allowed herself to grunt like an animal and cared not if he saw her pulling the stinking panties to her face.
She didn’t even try to masturbate herself as he sunk into her ass. She didn’t want to come. She just wanted to be used. To be a piece of meat. A willing hole for a mans pleasure. Jared’s pleasure. His pleasure.
She heard herself egging him on, enjoying her own vulgarity.
“harder, harder” she grunted “fuck my ass hard, faster Jared, make it fucking hurt will you? Fuck me and make it hurt. Shit. thats right. All the way. Just use me. Use my ass. Hurt me now. I’m your cum-dump. I’m a whore. Fuck my hole.”
All the talk of pain made her realize what she wanted so badly at this point.
“Fucking hit me will you? Slap my ass. Slap my tits. Fucking show me who’s boss while you fuck my ass”
Jared stopped, his cock deep inside her, clearly shocked and unsure what to do.
She couldn’t allow him to stop. She had to have his come in her. That was the rule.
She pushed back and forward, rocking on her knees, forcing his cock in and out of her gaping anus while he held perfectly still. faster and faster she rocked. It hurt like hell, Jared was no small guy and she listened to the sound of her buttocks slapping against him as she forced him deeply in and out of her.
‘Am I raping him?’ she thought to herself and the anger welled within her. Why didn’t he want to use her? Didn’t he get it?
“Fuck – Ing – hurt – me” she screamed pile-driving her ass against him. She stuffed the panties in her mouth, reached down and squeezed Jareds balls making him finally grunt as he started to come. She pushed back as hard as could, impaling herself on his shaft until the pulsing in her anus from his pumping cock subsided.
She slid off his cock and pulled the panties from her mouth. He slumped back on his knees and before he could react she had spun around and had his slimy cock in hand.
“Let me clean that for you” she said and she just about got his cock in her mouth, tasting the come and aroma of her own ass when he angrily pushed her away.
“Thats disgusting” he said staring at her incredulously “what the fucks come over you? It was just in your ass!”
“thats what i want” she snarled through gritted teeth, “I want clean your cock for you.” Caution thrown to the wind “I wanna taste my own ass on you. And i want you to beat me and piss on me. Take your fucking belt to me Jared. Now can I suck your cock?”
“No fucking way. I don’t know whats come over you tonight but I don’t like it. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. people don’t that kinda stuff”
“i do. i want to. Will you do it with me? Do you want me to eat your come out of my ass?”
“fuck this’ he said climbing off the bed ‘what kind of slut are you? where’d all this disgusting shit come from?”
“From me Jared, thats the kind of slut I am”. She knew she was escalating this. In many ways it was easier this way. She was angry yes but she also knew this would hurt him less. Let him leave her disgusted. let him blame her.
“i don’t know whats going on here but I don’t like it. Not one bit” he slammed the bedroom door and minute later she heard the front door slam shut.
She didn’t care. She already had her finger buried deep in her asshole. they came out slippery with come and she didn’t hesitate for a second to jam them into her mouth and suck them clean. getting ready to squat to catch the remaining come in her hand she had a better idea.
Clenching her buttocks she pulled on the stinking underwear and grabbed her phone.
“its me. I did it. I did what you asked. I wanna show you. I have an asshole full of come right now. I want you to watch me eat it.”
“Very good. I’ll text you my address”
“and another thing.”
“I need you to beat me” she was shaking, her voice wavering. Was she going to far? She had become an animal tonight and couldn’t stop.
A long pause.
“Very good. I’ll be ready.”
“sit down” he said after leading her into his apartment. She was unsurprised at the decor, stylish, minimal.
A chair in the center of the room for her. A throne of sorts.
He takes the couch opposite, still in a suit she is pleased to see and of course she wore the red dress.
“so tell me” he says and it pours out of her. She recounts every detail and watches his cock grow hard inside in pants. She finishes and for a moment there is silence.
“So now you come to my home with another mans come in your ass to offer yourself to me?”
“I do” she says.
He smiles. ‘So show me”
It was a battle. Her asshole was stretched wide by the fucking she gave herself and it was a struggle to keep it in even for the short cab ride over. With relief she stands, drops her panties to the floor.
“where?” she asks.
“Right there, in the chair. just raise your knees and sit on your heels so I can see”. She clambers into the chair, resting her ass against her ankles and pushing her pelvis forward so he can see her naked pussy and anus. She puts a hand below herself, cupping it and lets go.
And she knows as she relaxes that she is letting go of more. She is letting go of who she used to be as she discharges disgustingly in front of this man.
The come dribbles out into the palm of her hand. She raises it to her face and salutes him, an echo of the wine salute earlier that evening.
“Cheers” she says and pours the liquid into her mouth and swallows. Watching him intently she licks at the palm of her hand.
“excellent” he says rising “and now for your second request”. He walks around the room, dimming the lights as he goes until they are both in semi darkness.
“Stay where you are” he comes up behind the chair and she feels his hands on her shoulders. Something in his hand. A short leather switch with a flattened end.
‘What the fuck have I gotten myself into?’ she thinks but she wants to know. She needs to know. Can she take it? She has never experienced pain in a sexual way before but she hungers for it now. Pain and humiliation.
He is stroking her breasts, her neck, his hand goes down her thigh and a finger brushes across her clit. Her cunt is fully exposed her knees wide. He caresses her pussy. His touch expert… in moments she feels an orgasm beginning its inevitable march.
“tell me” he says
“I want you to beat me” she whispers huskily in the dark and her own words inch her closer to climax, “make it hurt please. Beat me for being such a bad girl”
“What did you do to deserve such a thing?” he asks
“Ive been very bad today. very bad.”
“What did you do?”
“I pissed in my panties”
Thwack. the switch comes down against her swollen pussy and she squeaks with surprise.
“I ate two mens come today” Thwack. It stings but her heart soars. She knows she can take it. And she is so close to coming.
“One from a pair of dirty panties” Thwack. It stings less. Her pussy is on fire but is number to the sting.
“And I ate cum out my own ass” Thwack.
“And I made a man fuck me in the ass” Thwack.
“And I sucked his cock after” Thwack.
“And I begged him to hurt me” Thwack. She is so close. The sting is intense and she is taught, ready to come. If only the next blow hits her squarely on the clit.
“And I begged another man to beat me” Thwack. her legs are wobbling wildly.
“Cos I’m a cunt and a slut and I just want to be used and I need to come. May I come please sir?”
“You may” Thwack. Her whole body rocks as the climax takes her. He steps away and returns to the couch as she slumps in the chair, too wobbly to remain in this position she needs her feet on the ground or she fears she will faint.
“What do you say?”
“thank you sir. Thank you for my beating and letting me come.”
“very good. Now I’m going to talk a little. Why don’t you straighten yourself up and theres a glass of wine for you there. I’m going to tell you some things and I want you to listen very carefully. can you do that?”
‘yes. yes I can.”
“Good. I am going to use you. I will use your body as I see fit to take my pleasure. I will fuck and and use you every day. Sometimes several times a day. You may not decline my advances. I will use all your whore-slut holes for pleasure. I shall fuck your mouth, your pussy and ass. You will be a receptacle for my come and you will take it greedily. You will only be allowed to come at my will. You will wear what I tell you. I will tie you up and beat you. I will ask you to beg for more. I will use you as my toilet. I will piss on you and in you. You will taste my ass and piss regularly. I will put objects inside of you and stretch you. I will hurt you and pleasure you. You will deny me nothing. I will watch you everywhere. I will watch you piss and shit. No moment will be hidden from me. You will masturbate for me when I demand it and you will never seek reward. I will invite other men to use you, sometimes several at once and you will give yourself to them as you give yourself to me. I will fuck other women in your presence and I will expect you to perform with them for my pleasure. You will often be shackled for long periods of time. I will video you at moments of extreme shame and post the videos on the internet so everyone in the world can see what a slut you are. You will be debased and debauched. You will be nothing but a fuck toy. And you will be loved, wholly and unreservedly. I will never ever cheat on you or lie to you and there will be no secrets between us. We will live a life of honest desire without pretense. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Gingerly she sips on her wine. her mind is blank. All doubts receded.
“Yes. I understand.”
“And you enter into this willingly?”
“Yes, very. What will you have me do first? Do you want to beat me again?”
“No, first I will mark you as dog marks its territory”. He stands and walks toward her. He looks at her and his crotch. She knows what to do. Finally she will have his cock.
Carefully she grasps his zipper between thumb and forefinger. The zip seems unduly loud. Reaching inside she pulls out his member, half swollen. She wants it inside of her so badly and she opens her mouth and begins to lean toward it.
“No, stay where you are, mouth open” he commands.
The stream of hot piss hits her belly first. He soaks her. taking one or two minutes to finish her dress is soaked and clinging to her, her hair matted with piss and the last few seconds he aims squarely at her mouth filling it. She allows the piss to run down her chin and swallows a little. She smiles gratefully.
Finally the two halves are united. Her best dress soaked through with a mans urine. She is a toilet, a slut a whore and she is content.
He is hard now and nods affirmation.
“thank you sir” she says, her eyes shining as his cock slides into the back of her throat.