The meeting had ended at least 15 minutes ago, yet I remain hanging in Anita's office closet, my clamped nipples burning as if there were on fire, my calves aching as I struggle to maintain my balance on these damn softballs under my feet, my arms numb in their unnatural position secured behind my back. I am desperate to be released, yet I know that even when I am eventually released from my current prison, I will never again be free.
Finally, the door opens, and I see Anita standing there, admiring her work as I hand helpless before her. Smiling an evil grin, she kicks the softballs out from under my feet. I scream in pain as my entire body weight is now fully supported by my clamped nipples. I strain to get even a toe on the ground to alleviate the extreme agony being subjected upon my nipples and breasts.
Anita watches me writhe in pain for a few seconds before she reaches out and presses the hanger clamps together, releasing my nipples and causing to me collapse in a pile on the floor of her office closet. As I lay there whimpering, Anita walk over to her desk. Once there, she snaps her fingers and points at me. "Get your pathetic ass over here immediately, bitch!" she demands, her demeanor quite stern.
I contemplate disobedience, but I quickly dismiss the idea, not wanting to learn what fate would befall me if I were to refuse her command. I find myself unable to get to my feet with my arms shackled behind my back and my legs bound together at my knees and ankles. So I roll onto my stomach and inchworm my way to the desk, pulling my knees up under my belly then lunging forward, falling onto my burning breasts with each lunge. The rough, industrial carpet scrapes across my tortured nipples, causing additional waves of pain to coarse through my body. Slowly and methodically, I make my way from the closet to her desk, finding myself eventually at her feet.
When I reach the desk, Anita reaches down and grabs the collar around my neck, lifting me not only to my feet, but up onto the desk, setting me down facing her. Her eyes gaze upon my red and purple nipples, and she gently places her hands on my breasts, slowly running her fingernails over my raw nipples, flicking them playfully, yet causing my more anguish. My nipples harden under her fingernails in obvious arousal, betraying my pain.
"Aw, does my pet's breasts hurt much?" Anita asks with mock innocence. Without waiting for a response, she leans forward and wraps her lips around my left breast, gently circling my nipple with her tongue. Her warm, moist lips giving my breast a sense of relief, her tongue caressing my nipple as if applying a healing ointment to my raw flesh. Occasionally Anita nibbles on my nipple, reminding me of my place. When my left breast has recovered, she releases my left breast and turns her attention to my right breast, repeating her actions.
When she has finished sucking on my breasts, she walks around to her desk chair, where she sits down as she begins to speak.
"I must admit, Becca, your husband did select a wonderful desk. This is the perfect desk to have sex on. I imagine you and Richard spent many a lunch break on this desk, didn't you?"
I'm glad that Anita is behind me, because she cannot see the embarrassment on my face at her question. Her inquiry reminds me not only of my recent infidelity, but also of the fact that Richard and I had not had sex on over a year. Lost in my thoughts, I am brought back to reality by a sharp slap on the small of my back.
"I asked you a question, bitch. You will answer me!"
Starting to sob, I respond. "No Ma'am, Richard and I never made love on this desk. We never made love in this office at all."