My Bosss Master Pt 02

The following is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to represent real people or events. It is completely written and owned by me, OfStarsAndDreams.

>>> My erotic stories are generally written as private commissions and do not necessarily reflect my own interests, fetishes, or personal history. <<<

My stories aren't for everyone! This story contains depictions of abuse and non-consensual sex. If this bothers you, move along.

Contents: Sub female POV. M/f, f/f, M/m, F/m. BDSM, Master/Slave. Bisexual. Office setting, office sex. Pantyhose. Professional women. Cheating wife. Tattoo/Marked subs. Consensual BDSM. Orgasm denial/delay/control. Behavioral correction, discipline, praise. Piercing play (mention). Oral (f/f, f/M). Whipping, paddling. Cock warming (mention). PiV sex. Sex toy use (vibrator, double ended dildo). Oral (f/M, rough, deep throat). Oxygen deprivation/choking. Bondage/immobilization. Abuse, violence, marital abuse (mild to moderate). Sub put on display for others. Revenge beating, violence, explicit, kicking, scratching, punching. Bruises. Hair pulling. Cuckolding. Exhibitionism (abusive towards viewer). Cervix pounding. Creampie. Rape, non-con. Anal (f/m, non-con). Masturbation. Teasing. Derision, degradation, insults. Oral (M/m, non-con). Anal (M/m, non-con). Crying. Kissing. Scissoring, girl on girl play.

**Special note: For those coming from Pt 1, please note that the husband's name has been changed at the story patron's request.

Let's begin!

______________________________________________________________

The days that followed my giving myself over completely to James were a mix of anxiety and bliss. On one hand, I was finally receiving the care and attention I'd been craving for so long, which had been completely absent from my marriage -- and had, quite frankly, been absent for my entire life. On the other, I was terrified that Joel would discover my new tattoo, would somehow figure out what I had been doing during my days in the office. The evening I got it, still fresh and wrapped in a protective plastic film, Rebecca had helped me to loosely bind my hand in bandages at my request.

I'd honestly been a bit sad to lose sight of it so soon, there was something exhilarating but also strangely comforting about having it there. I could also sense something like disappointment from Rebecca. Not for me -- no, she couldn't stop her giddy adoration and excitement over my joining them -- but seemingly in the situation itself, my inconvenient marriage perhaps, or my having to hide this part of me. Afterwards, while she softly stroked my hands and arms, we crafted a story together that I could tell Joel about how I had injured my hand at the office.

Not that it mattered. Joel never asked about my bandaged hand. Not for the days that I kept it wrapped, carefully redoing it after every shower, taking it off upon arriving at work and putting it back upon leaving.

James made it very clear that leaving the wrapping on throughout the workday was unacceptable, in part as a matter of pride, both his and my own, and, more pragmatically, for the health of the tattoo itself. The way he made this clear was, on the first day I forgot to remove it, for him to whip my ass and thighs with a cane until the whole of it was red and swollen, marked with stripes and growing bruises. He'd fucked me after, each thrust of his hips slamming his cock against my insides and his hips into my sore skin. It was the most delicious agony I had ever known. The whole time he'd commanded me to tell him, over and over, who my owner was. Which I gladly did, my exultation rising higher and higher until I was nearly screaming his name in pain and pleasure. James. James. James.

I thought I would need more time to gradually get used to this new state of things, of being owned by my master, but I was neither granted an adjustment period nor, as it turns out, had I even needed it. Everything just felt so right in a way it never had before. I could feel myself blossoming and flourishing and truly becoming the person I was meant to be. With each passing day I felt my thoughts increasingly consumed by James, my devotion to him becoming more and more complete and unwavering.

I was now receiving the same incentives and punishments I had seen lavished over Rebecca -- even more dramatic in nature now that I had joined their fold and there was no longer any reason to hold back. It was an endless parade of experiences, dreamlike and intoxicating, an oasis from the rest of reality.

One day I was rewarded with Rebecca's tongue slavishly tending to my pussy, sliding in between my lips with practiced motions as I desperately tried to stay concentrated on my computer screen, the next I got my nipple rings chained to my desk so I was forced to crane over it for hours as I retyped all of the mistakes I'd made while getting eaten out. I was used as a cock warmer under James's desk while he made long phone calls, or as a human foot stool. I was given lavish gifts, jewelry and sexy new lingerie to wear under my tidy office clothes, garter belts and sheer stockings to replace my department store hose. I was drug to the back room and unceremoniously bent over and fucked, or strung up on a rack and paddled on the tits and ass, or just left there to stew on my own with a vibrator tied to my thigh. Rebecca and I even had a double ended inflatable dildo inserted into both our pussies, locking us together as we worked doggystyle on the floor with our laptops, ass to ass, ostensibly as a "team building exercise".

That particular event ended with us grinding on each other until we both came, which honestly surprised me a bit. I had never considered being sexual with anyone but Joel before, let alone another woman, but I found that -- though I still desperately, almost constantly, craved James's cock -- I was growing fond of Rebecca, her adoring kisses, her soft touches, even her sweet and sensitive pussy and the way she, and it, responded to my untrained but eager and curious touches. She belonged to James, and in a sense was an extension of him and his world, as I was now as well, and playing with her filled me with a sense of belonging.

Still, despite feeling more at peace than I had ever felt in my life, I couldn't help but feel a certain tension in almost every moment spent working there. Thoughts of Joel plagued me relentlessly. Not the guilt I had anticipated, but rather a fear of being discovered, of having all of this taken away again. What if he suddenly took some uncharacteristic interest in me and decided to stop in to the office? What if I forgot something, and he, against all odds, took it upon himself to bring it to me? What if he came in and saw the tattoo, or worse, what if he dropped in, say, during our morning ritual, when either myself or Rebecca sucked off James while the other teased her with a vibrator through her clothes?

Hell, at one point I was splayed out face up over my desk, head bent back facing the ground as James slammed his cock into my mouth over and over, hands wrapped around my throat to hold me down as he pounded directly into my throat, and even as I felt myself blacking out I couldn't help but think to myself what if Joel came in right now? What if he somehow found out about this? I knew it was impossible, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it all the same. I hated thinking of him in those moments, when all I wanted was to be filled with James -- physically and mentally.

After the bandages on my hand came off, which they inevitably did -- even oblivious Joel would have noticed something had I continued to wear them for months at a time -- I started covering the tattoo with makeup. This went well, for a time, but looking back now I suppose it was impossible to keep it hidden forever and in the end I must have grown too careless. One morning, after I'd stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel but before I'd started my makeup routine, Joel stepped into the bathroom to grab something he'd left behind. I'd neglected to lock the door.

He saw the tattoo of course. How could he not? Bold and black against my skin, in plain sight. He didn't know what it meant, obviously, which was at least some small blessing, but he was still furious. I don't want to dwell too long on it, but I will say that in the moments that followed he really showed me his true colors, the kind of person he really was and how little he truly thought of me.

He screamed at me, berated me, even got violent with me, hitting me and slapping me over the head. How dare I mar myself like that? Do something so ugly and low class? How was he supposed to be attracted to me anymore? (A laughable statement when he hadn't seemed all that attracted to me before I received my master's brand.) He demanded I justify my actions, explain it to him. I struggled to speak, let alone answer him. Not that I'd intended to anyway. I barely got out, desperately insisting I had to get dressed and go to work or risk getting fired. The threat of potentially losing money was at least enough to stave him off.

Even so, when I checked myself over at the bus stop, I found I'd been left with a rapidly darkening black eye. I hurriedly covered it up with the makeup I usually used for my hand, thankfully still tucked away in my purse. For some reason I was afraid for James and Rebecca to know what had happened. Like they'd disapprove of me failing to take care of the situation better. On some level I was scared they'd look down on me for not being as strong, confident, and capable as they were. That they might think I didn't deserve to be with them anymore. My stomach was in knots at the thought.

When I arrived at work things were already different than normal, and my heart briefly leapt into my chest, as if somehow they'd already learned of my failings and were preparing to send me away. But no, rather it was a visit from one of our business relations, a woman named Dawn, an agent for one of the companies we worked with. I knew her only from the paperwork we handled together and the emails she'd sent and had never met her in person before.

James, grinning that smirk of his, introduced me as his newly acquired piece of property, and directed that I show myself off to Dawn. This apparently meant stripping, which I understood after a bit more non-verbal direction. This seemed to delight Dawn, who took pleasure in fondling my tits and ass as they became available to her, then tugging playfully on my nipple rings and watching as my face flushed in embarrassment to be put on display in this way.

She complimented my body, naming individual parts that appealed to her while congratulating James on his find. In some ways it felt absurd, since her own was so much nicer -- she was tall, like a model, and incredibly beautiful, with a tight athletic body, gorgeous full curves, and, to top it off, flawless brunette hair that fell all the way down her back. After I was allowed to get dressed and had started stepping back into my panties she told me how she was a very good friend of James, Rebecca, and their other pets, but that she herself was ill suited for such an arrangement, being much too strongly independent. She had been known, however, to borrow one of their darlings now and then. She said it in a way that implied she might consider asking after me next.

We were just about to get down to business proper -- this wasn't just a social call after all -- when Dawn mentioned that something had been niggling at her since I got in. She asked if we'd perhaps met before, somewhere else, and I was forced to admit that it was unlikely since for many years I'd mostly stayed home. Then Dawn's face lit up in recognition, and she triumphantly announced she'd seen me at the bus stop this morning. My heart sank as she continued, explaining that she lived right by it and that we almost certainly shared the same neighborhood. I couldn't speak to reply, my body frozen stiff, my mouth dry, dreading that she would mention my bruises in front of them.

And of course that was precisely the next thing she asked about.

But what I feared didn't happen. No one was disapproving and there wasn't any scolding -- let alone me being driven away from the office. Instead, a very concerned Rebecca sat down next to me, putting her hand on my shoulder while Dawn took the other side, pulling up a chair, her playful leering replaced with sympathy and resolve.

My explanations were at first disjointed and messy, but eventually they pieced together my situation, with Joel, his job, the house, the shared car, even our sexless marriage and how he'd made me feel so worthless and incompetent. As my explanation went on their concern turned to cold fury and outrage. James, who'd been pacing angrily since the moment my injury was revealed, left the room in a turbulent fit, like a surging thunderstorm, his muscles tensed in barely contained rage, incensed that someone had dared do such a thing to his woman.

Rebecca and Dawn then assured me that of course I wasn't worthless, or incompetent, and that even just my work there at the office proved that. After I calmed down a bit Rebecca sat directly across from me, putting her hands on my knees, and asked why I let him do that to me. At first I was confused -- I didn't let him do anything -- but then they really spelled it out for me.

I shouldn't ever be afraid in my own home, and certainly not now. I held all the cards. I made all the money, and he was completely dependent on me. The worst thing he could do was physically kick me out of the house, but then, legal issues aside, he'd be unable to pay the mortgage and would lose the house. Even if he tried it would look horrible in a divorce and I could easily rake him over the coals for it.

I didn't bother explaining that Joel's pride was too strong to ever allow that to happen to him. He'd rather suffer than get rolled over in court by his pitiful wife.

When James came back in, still fuming, he promptly announced we were going on a trip. I'm not sure if Dawn was explicitly meant to come, but she piled along into Rebecca's car with us all the same. Maybe she didn't want to miss the show she knew would be coming. The trip home was short -- much, much shorter than taking public transportation -- but it still felt like it took an eternity. I was nearly shaking by the time we arrived in my driveway.

James ordered me open the door, and I felt a weird surrealness as my previously separated worlds collapsed into each other. My hands were shaking as I unlocked it. As soon as I did, James pushed past me and inside.

Joel was on the couch in his underwear, obviously caught in the middle of jerking himself off to some video he'd put on the TV. Feeling guilty and a bit embarrassed, I averted my gaze, but I also couldn't help but wonder how often he got himself off with porno instead of having real sex with me, his wife. James had no such concerns. He walked right up to him and, even as Joel started yelling -- asking who the fuck he was and what he was doing here -- grabbed him by the hair and drug him from the couch.

What came next was much more brutal than anything Joel had done that morning. I heard James informing him, in a very matter of fact way, that I was now his property, and as such Joel was never to lay a hand on me ever again. His words were punctuated by heavy blows from his fists, striking Joel's bare skin, mostly his face but also whatever else happened to fall in the way of his punches. James continued, explaining that my decisions were completely caused by Joel's failings, that I deserved more than what a pathetic man like him could give me, that he'd been an idiot to give up on such an incredible woman, that maybe if he'd learned how to actually please a woman with that pathetic cock of his he wouldn't have been in this situation. He again grabbed Joel by the hair and lifted him back up so he could stare him down, asking him if he was even a man at all.

He then let go, Joel falling to the floor, hands going to his face. He was already bleeding out the nose and mouth, and he promptly spat one of his teeth into his palm. James started undoing his zipper then, and declared that he was going to fuck me, right there in front of him, and that if Joel was really a man at all he would prevent his wife from getting fucked by someone else. I felt myself grow excited at the words, even though I knew I should feel something like shame or guilt. Yet the thought of being taken in front of Joel sent a thrill through me, and I could feel my pussy already growing wet in anticipation of Jame's cock pushing its way inside.

James, true to his word, pushed me roughly over the edge of the couch -- the one that Joel had just been sitting on -- and raised my sensible skirt up, exposing my less sensible lacy panties. He didn't bother pulling them down, instead just pushing them aside to bare my pussy to the world. I didn't even care that Dawn could see, or that I was in effect actively showing Joel that I had become a cheater, an adulteress, that I had ruined our marriage in pursuit of this... deviancy. All I wanted was the feeling of Jame's cock pushing inside me, stretching out my pussy walls, filling my insides to the brim, making me feel like I would burst with pleasure.

I didn't have to wait long. Jame's cock sank into me in one quick motion, filling my entire hole from entrance to cervix, grinding up against my muscles, pressing against all my most pleasurable points. He immediately began thrusting in and out and I could feel every inch of me fill again and again and again with my master's cock. Joel left my mind, and there was nothing else but my master in that moment. I was so utterly and completely his, my pussy was his to use as he wished, my everything was his however he wanted it. My mind was blanking out as I rode the incredible feelings spreading through my body.

At come point Joel attempted to stand, to stop James from fucking me. I barely noticed, as entranced by the feeling of James's cock as I was, but I know James hit him several more times, never once even pulling his cock out of my pussy to deal with him. Nearby I could hear Dawn laughing, as well as my own voice rising from me, moaning and panting like a bitch in heat. Joel's attempts grew more frantic, and he began to make these strange pathetic pleas.

Instead of demanding that James stop at once, as he had been when his cock first entered me, he was now begging, pleading him to stop, asking why James was doing this, nearly in tears and blubbering. In response I found myself begging him not to, urging him to keep going, to fuck me harder and harder, to fill me up completely. James continued to fuck me senseless as Joel slumped to the floor, announcing to no one that James could keep the damn woman, that he didn't even care, just for James to please leave him alone.

None of it mattered though. James continued unabated. I felt his cock begin to throb and he pushed it in hard, shoving it deep down inside me, smashing the tip directly against my cervix and making me gasp in a mix of pleasure and pain. With his hips pressed tight against my ass he promptly unloaded a huge stream of hot cum into my pussy, straight against the entrance to my womb, cementing his complete ownership over me in front of Joel.

I felt like it was filling me up like a human condom, James's cum unable to escape my hole -- plugged as it was by my pussy lips wrapped so tightly around his cock -- forcing my insides to expand to receive it. Even though I already felt ready to burst I could feel my pussy tightening down onto him over and over as I came alongside him, squeezing his cock as if to milk every last drop from him into my body. My legs trembled as the muscles in my hips pulsed and he continued to unload himself inside me, cock twitching again and again as he spurt shot after shot.