Cari sat nervously at her desk, trying to process the work in the open file before her. Her ears were straining to hear the footsteps of her boss, Mr. Jackson. Her boss. Her Master.
Her mind ran back over the day before, when he had called her into his office and explained to her the true nature of her job. He knew her for the slut she truly was, and since he was paying her an excellent salary, her body and her time belonged to him, 24/7. Anytime he called, she would respond, and she would provide any services he demanded. Then after having her strip down to her garterbelt and stockings, he slapped her around enough to leave his mark on her, before demanding that she suck his cock like the whore that she was.
The realization had washed over her and she had readily accepted that she was truly a slut at heart, living only for the pleasure of men. She had serviced him to the best of her considerable ability, and readily agreed to the terms he lay before her. This included her availability, and accessibility, as well as rules for her attire. Panties and bras were no longer allowed.
And so she squirmed a bit, knowing that her cunt was bare beneath her blue skirt. And when she squirmed, her large tits swayed easily, unfettered, with in the confines of the form-fitting jacket. She reveled in her compliance with His instructions. She fretted that her arousal might stain her skirt. She worried that perhaps she imagined it all.
Suddenly, Mr. Jackson burst through the door, striding toward the door of the inner office that was his. He neither glanced in her direction, nor acknowledged her breathless, "Good morning, Sir." Cari turned back to her work, feeling dejected.
About half an hour after his arrival, Mr. Jackson buzzed her on the intercom and asked her to come into his office. As she entered, he told her to close the door behind her.
"Cari. I need a little tension relief, slut. Lose the suit." He was gruff and offhand, and didn't seem to pay much attention as she shrugged out of her jacket and shimmied out of the skirt. She stood before him, naked save her garterbelt, stockings, and shoes. He glanced up, and let his eyes slide over her, smirking when he saw the bruising on her large tits.
"Come here, bitch."
Cari walked around behind the desk to stand in front of him. He reached out and grabbed her full tits, smirking again when she winced as he grabbed the sore, bruised flesh. He jerked her forward, and she put her hands against the back of the chair to catch herself. This left her bending over him, with her tits right in his face. This seemed to please him, as he started squeezing and kneading her tits, and sucking and biting both on the nipples and the soft flesh of the globes. Cari tried to remain quiet, but could not contain some of the moans as he abused her sensitive tits. He seemed to enjoy her discomfort.
Suddenly, his breathing changed, and he growled, "On your knees, you little cocksucker!" Cari dropped to her knees, and quickly freed his cock. She wrapped her mouth around it and quickly began to minister to his needs, sucking, stroking, caressing. Her entire being was focused on his pleasure; there was nothing in the world beyond this man, and the pleasure she might give him. She reveled in his moans of pleasure, and even in his growled remarks: "Oh, yeah, you little cocksucker. You're such a slut. Love that cock, don't you, whore? Beg for it like the little bitch you are."
She continued plying her tongue and mouth on his hard cock, until she heard him say, in a normal tone of voice, "Just leave that on her desk, Jenny, she'll get it when she is finished in here." Her face flushed as she realized that the HR person was in the outer office and could hear everything through the open door, and though she was actually shielded from sight by the desk, her suit lay across a chair, in plain sight. And there could be no doubt of what was taking place. Cari burned with humiliation, dreading having to face the girl again.
Before she could dwell on it much, however, Mr. Jackson grabbed her hair and dragged her away from his cock. He turned her around, and bent her over the desk, slamming his cock into her wet and ready cunt. She clinched her muscles, letting her cunt squeeze and caress his hard cock as it slammed into her. "Oh yeah, you fucking slut. You are one hot piece of ass!" he said, as he shot his load into her.
When he was finished, he pulled out and told her to turn around and clean him up. She did, quickly and efficiently, aware of the cum oozing out of her cunt. When she was finished, he handed her a handkerchief. "Here, put that between your legs to soak up the cum, so it doesn't stain your skirt." She thanked him, and walked over to pick up her clothes. He said, "You can dress in your office, I'm busy here."
Flushing again with humiliation, she carried her clothes to her office, closing the door behind her. She quickly slipped into her clothes, folded the handkerchief into a pad, and slipped it between her legs, before pulling her skirt into place.
She went back to work, aware of the ache in her tits, from the abuse Mr. Jackson had administered, and the discomfort as the cum oozed out and dried. She stayed at her desk through the lunch hour, and did not look up when Mr. Jackson left the office, nor when he returned with a client.
It was about 2:30 when Mr. Jackson buzzed her and told her to meet them in the conference room. She grabbed a pad of paper and her pen and walked into the conference room. Mr. Jackson closed and locked the door behind her. "Cari, meet Mr. Hayes." Cari turned to the middle-aged man in the dark suit. He looked at her with a smirk and she quickly dropped her eyes, murmuring, "Hello, Sir."
"Cari, you won't need to take notes, so lose the pad and pen." She did so quickly. "And Cari? You are overdressed, for a slut." Cari's heart stopped for an instant, as she realized the significance of his comment. Without raising her eyes, she unbuttoned her jacket and shrugged out of it, painfully aware of the bruises and suck marks all over her large tits. She put the jacket on a chair against the wall, then unfastened her skirt, and shimmied out of it, knowing that her tits were jiggling brazenly. After putting the skirt on the chair with the jacket, she reached down and removed the folded handkerchief from between her legs, and was about to set it down when Mr. Jackson stopped her. "Set that on the table, slut." She did so, then stood, trembling, waiting, as Mr. Jackson and Mr. Hayes took in the sight of her standing in her garterbelt and stockings.
"Well, Frank, what do you think?" asked Mr. Jackson.
"Looks like you have yourself a natural-born slut there, son," replied Mr. Hayes. "Shall we try her out?"
"She's here for our pleasure. Whatever you want to do."
"Get her ready, then," smirked Mr. Hayes, as he loosened his tie.