Office Slut 3

The office he showed them into was large and airy, having big plate-glass windows on two sides. It was near the top of the twenty-storey building and had spectacular views over London; on a fine morning like this the Thames gleamed through the landscape like a silver serpent, distance and the sun lending it a beauty that was singularly lacking from up close.

The office was furnished luxuriously but simply with a large teak desk, the top inset with black leather; Bauhaus chairs and against the wall facing the desk, a large Biedermeier cabinet which must have been worth a small fortune. The room was flooded with pearly early-morning sunlight and both men, having taken an unusually cursory glance at the room, gazed fixedly at the one incongruous object; a hugely oversized dog-basket in front of the desk, in which a sleeping form reposed under a grey fleece blanket.

All that could be made out was a curved body, a fall of bright hair, and leading from under the blanket, a silver chain which was clasped to a thick steel staple hammered into the top of the front right-hand leg of the desk. The brutality of the baldly industrial-looking metal loop contrasted strangely with the elegance of the rest of the room.

The man whose office this was gestured at the sleeping woman and smiled at his companions. 'Yes, friends, this is the office slut - my personal slut, in fact, but I lend her out to all my contacts as a matter of course...' His guests exchanged quick, furtive glances. They'd heard about their host's singular perk of course but not, until now, really believed it. 'We had quite a party last night in fact,' he continued, as he went up to the cabinet. 'It's why the slut hasn't woken up yet. She was well and truly and most thoroughly used...' As he opened the cabinet doors, the men caught glimpses of racks of implements - polished leather, gleaming metal, cuffs and chains. Their host withdrew a stout leather paddle and slapped it gently against his hand, as if testing its strength.

'It's not surprising she's still sleeping it off...' he went on. 'She did very well and as I'm pleased with her performance I won't be punishing her for her laziness in failing to greet us this morning. But enough is enough...'

Covering the distance from the cabinet to the basket in two quick strides, he twitched back the blanket with his left hand and delivered a resounding thwack to the slut's round and naked arse with the other. The men laughed, their eyes fastening greedily on the woman now exposed to their gaze, as she started awake with a jump of alarm, the chain jingling musically as she sat up abruptly, sleep still heavy on her and evidently not quite yet aware of where she was and who was with her.

She was not totally naked, as the men had perhaps expected her to be. As she sat up and the blanket fell away, it was revealed to them that her body was partly encased in a black satin corset, which cinched her waist tightly and raised her breasts whilst leaving them largely exposed. The corset also suspended seamed black stockings, although the seams were twisted now and the stockings were laddered. On her arms she wore long black satin opera gloves. The blackness of the corset, gloves and stockings served to emphasise not only the creamy whiteness of her skin but also her extreme nakedness where she was not covered; her soft, pink and cleanly-shaven cunt, her pale arse and the tops of her thighs.

What transfixed the men's gaze in particular was the silver chain clasped to the desk which, it was now apparent, was at the other end attached to a small ring piercing the slut's clitoris. She sat with her thighs spread and they could not help but stare at the delightful picture, their cocks twitching in anticipation. How they envied their host - to have a woman like this chained to his desk for use as when and how he wanted... The slut sat there in her basket quietly, her eyes modestly cast down, awaiting her Master's pleasure and attention.

'How are you this morning, my dear?' he now asked her. 'I am fine, thank you, Sir' she replied. 'And is there anything you need before you start work for the day?' he asked. The two spectators listened intently. 'I need to piss, Sir' said the slut, in the same modest and well-educated tones. The sound of the rather base word on her lips, spoken in that very refined accent, carried a strong erotic charge; their cocks hardened still further. How sweet to make whatever use they chose of a woman like that; a woman who in the normal way of things would barely give them the time of day. Even sweeter was what happened now; their host went again to the cabinet and withdrew from it a large enamelled bowl, which he placed on the floor in front of his slut's basket.

'You may piss, my dear', he said, and turning to his guests went on, 'She is allowed the use of the bowl first thing every morning, unless she is in need of punishment of course; but after that she will be catheterised for the rest of the day and the free end of the tube will be fixed into her mouth.'

Meanwhile the slut had climbed out of her basket and knelt over the bowl placed on the floor for her use. As if unaware of her audience and their devouring eyes, she started pissing, aiming the golden stream into the bowl with the ease of long practise.

'Stop - hold it right there!' suddenly commanded her Master. Obediently and impressively, the slut clenched her muscles and the flow stopped in midstream.

'I feel the need to piss myself, slut - wait until you've attended to me' he said, as he unzipped his fly and walked towards his creature. She unrolled the gloves from her arms, still kneeling over her bowl all the while, and laid them carefully beside her on the carpet. Then she reached into his trousers and withdrew his cock, fastening her soft pink mouth around it. As the guests watched, her Master began pissing into her mouth and, stroking her hair, gave her permission to resume her own flow.

The slut sighed her relief even as she swallowed avidly, drinking down her Master's piss as though it was sweet water. When they had both finished, the Master zipped himself up again and motioned to his guests to sit.

'My slut has not had a bath yet and before you use her I would like her to clean herself up a bit. She took on half-a dozen of my colleagues last night and her cunt and arse are still full of their cum.'

He walked to the desk and unclasped the chain from the heavy steel staple. Winding it tightly around his wrist, he jerked on it twice and, wincing slightly, the slut rose to her feet. She picked up the bowlful of piss and her Master led her through a door in one of the walls. Shortly the men heard the sound of running water. While the Master oversaw his slut's ablutions, the men waited impatiently in the main office. They'd have been happy enough to use the woman in her unwashed state. In fact, the thought of her cunt and arse still awash with many men's cum was almost unbearably desirable.

The sexual tension in the office ratcheted up with every moment that passed. To make good use of the time, the younger of the two wandered over to the cabinet and examined its contents, every so often taking out an object - a whip, a pair of nipple clamps - and exclaiming over them to his colleague. The older man smiled - toys were not his thing - but he was looking forward, with some urgency now, to a good fuck, something he hadn't had in quite a while.

At last the Master reappeared, leading his slut by her chain as before. She was rosy from her bath and now attired in a brief black garter belt and new black stockings, but nothing else. As before, and perhaps even more so now, the few garments, garments designed to be hidden under other clothes, merely served to emphasise her nakedness and vulnerability. The guests could barely contain their impatience as their host fastened the chain once more to the staple in the desk leg. Turning to the slut, he lifted her onto the desk and gently pressed her down so that she was lying on her back, her head barely supported at one side, her legs hanging down over the other. It was not a very comfortable position to be in - her back was arched and taking the strain - but the slut lay there obediently as she had been placed.

The Master then took leather cuffs from the cabinet and clasped them around her wrists and ankles. Using short lengths of chain, he fastened her wrists through D-rings on the cuffs to staples at the tops of the legs of the desk, hidden from the men's view, pulling her arms taut. Her ankles he drew up and attached the same way so that her legs were pulled wide apart, her knees bent. The tethering was not necessary; the slut would have lain there and submitted to her Master's will, whatever it was that he required of her and no matter whom he allowed to use her nor in what fashion. However not only did the fact that she was chained there and unable to escape add to the men's excitement, lending an edge of rape and violation to their actions, but of course it added to the slut's own excitement, the chains freeing her from any responsibility for her behaviour. She was not choosing to fuck these men, they were being imposed on her and the chains meant that no matter what she did with them, it was clearly not by her will that she was so used.

Her back still arched, she lay passively, her cunt splayed open to their gaze and the chain looping its way down her crack and thence back up to the top corner of the desk. Her head flung back, she could not really see her visitors, but she knew of course that they were examining her intimately, scrutinising every fold of flesh, the point where the gold ring pierced her clitoris, the shining wetness of her cunt, the puckered ring of her anus. Despite her many such experiences, she still felt a flush of humiliation rise hotly under her skin and wondered if she would ever really get used to this treatment. She thought not; but also, deep inside, knew that her Master never wanted her to get used to it. She knew his pleasure was made all the more piquant by her shaming and that he revelled in the humiliations to which he subjected her, as indeed did she.

The younger man asked if he was allowed to make use of the toys in the cabinet and she heard her Master give his consent. The man went back to the cabinet and selected a crop, swishing it through the air a few times to get the feel of it. Although he'd fantasised about using such a thing, this was the first time he'd ever had one in his hands. He stepped up to the desk, stroking the crop through his fingers and wondering where to strike. Really there was no question - it had to be the nipples... The slut had large round breasts, tipped with neat brown nipples and slightly swollen milky brown areolas. How he wanted to see red weals appear on her creamy white skin and know that he had inflicted them... Taking careful aim, he struck hard, the looped tip of the crop catching the slut on the right nipple. She bucked and whimpered and he struck again, aiming for the left this time. Again she cried out although evidently she was trying to smother her cry.

At this he laid on with greater abandon, determined to make her scream and cry out uncontrollably. As he struck harder and harder, crossing his cuts so as to make a pattern of red lines appear all over her tits, he found her response very gratifying. She couldn't move much, but she was wriggling nevertheless, desperately trying to avoid the fall of the crop, moving her body in a futile attempt to evade him which simply served to increase the severity of the punishment he meted out. At the same time her cries became louder and more breathless, ragged sobs and occasional loud screams punctuated by the rhythmical swish and crack of the crop. The Master kept a careful eye on his property, judging her limits, watching the increasing flow of wetness from her cunt, until he felt she had had enough and called a halt.

The other man had approached while the slut was receiving her punishing treatment at the hands of the younger man, fascinated by the visible signs, despite her cries and struggles, of her increasing excitement. He could clearly see and smell the flow of her juices glistening on her thighs and as the Master called a halt to the flogging, he seized his chance to bury his face in her cunt. The taste and aroma were exquisite, particularly to a man who'd been deprived of such sights, tastes and scents for rather longer than he cared to recall. The slut loved his attentions and was thrusting herself towards his eager mouth, careless of what the others might think of her abandoned behaviour. As the older man licked, sucked and nibbled she purred her contentment and uttered a slight moue of disappointment as he stepped back from her in order to remove his trousers.

Under the desk there was a platform that when pulled out raised him to exactly the height he needed in order comfortably to be able to thrust his cock into her dripping cunt. This he now did with no more ado and the slut sighed her pleasure as her cunt was filled and repeatedly pumped by the stranger's cock. The others watched, the younger man still not quite believing that this woman could be so complaisant in her Master's service as to submit so readily to the whims and demands of total strangers. But the evidence was there before him and his ears were full of the slut's little moans and cries of pleasure and the jingling of the chain that still tethered her by her clitoris to the desk.

The older man tried to take his time but it was all too much for him. Fairly soon he came, thrusting hard and grunting as he filled the slut's cunt with his cum. He fell heavily across her body but after a few seconds in order to recover himself, made way for his companion. The younger man had taken up the nipple clamps he'd removed from the cabinet earlier and asked the Master if he would apply them. The slut lay there panting, her nipples swollen from their earlier cropping, and when the Master fixed on the clamps she screamed. The clamps were joined by a long length of chain and the younger man asked if the slut could be turned onto her front so that he could sodomise her more easily.

When she'd been repositioned to his fancy, moaning as her clamped nipples came into contact with the leather of the desktop made hot and sticky with her sweat, he pulled the chain over her head so that he could keep a grip on it and use it as reins while he fucked her arse. The tight ring of her anus was already slippery with juice from her cunt and he pushed his hard cock against it with some force. Anal sex was something that he'd fantasised about for years but his wife would never let him try it and this was his first time. The slut moaned but relaxed her muscles, letting him in for her Master's sake. Despite her practise at being used this way and her skills at relaxing her sphincter muscles, the rough force which the young man was using hurt her and his entry was abrupt and painful, ripping a cry from her. Oblivious to her distress he pressed on, sinking the thick length of his cock deep inside her and then thrusting hard with no gentle build-up of pressure.

As he thrust, he jerked on the chain, pulling at the nipple clamps so that the slut cried and gasped as sharp, searing pains pierced through her tender breasts. Her one consolation was knowing that the more she suffered on her Master's account, the greater would be the pleasure and satisfaction she would afford him. He might then reward her and allow her to do what she most wanted to do, which was to offer him some of the same attentions and opportunities she now offered his guests. And so she mused, her anus become slack with the thrusting of the man who now grew and throbbed and came within her. He pulled away from her, swatting her arse as his cock popped out eliciting one last moan from her, and strode round to the front of the desk. 'Suck me clean, whore' he commanded and obediently the slut opened her mouth for him and licked her shit and a trace of blood from his still tumescent cock.

As she ministered to him with her mouth, he turned to her Master and said, 'You know what I'd really like? To have her drink my piss the way she drank yours...' The Master smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

'My slut is at your disposal, gentlemen. Use her as you wish.'

The younger man needed no further telling. Although his cock was still semi-hard he managed to start pissing and obedient to her Master's will, the slut drank the acrid yellow flow, swallowing it down without a murmur. The older man watched, turned on but disapproving. His younger colleague was acting like a kid in a sweetshop, he thought, wanting to try all the goodies at once, overcome with sheer greed. He had no thought at all for the woman he was using. Perhaps it's sentimental of me, he thought, but I couldn't use any woman the way he's using her, particularly not one who gave me such an enjoyable fuck and who has such a delightful cunt... My colleague has no finesse. He exchanged glances with his host. The Master gave a minute gesture with his hands as if to say, these things happen, you and I know better but after all, that's what she's there for... And the young man finished pissing and shook the last few drops from his cock into the slut's face.

Their host walked towards the desk and rang for his secretary. 'We're finished in here, Elisabeth, would you please call in and accompany my guests down to the boardroom?' Idly he stroked the slut's hair as he addressed the two men. 'Elisabeth will bring you some coffee and I'll join you in a few minutes'. A knock at the door announced the secretary's arrival. Smiling at the two men, she said, 'If you'll just come with me...' and led them out of the office. The younger man followed without a backward glance; the older man turned and almost spoke but, thinking better of it, turned back and followed the others out of the room. He'd wanted to express some sort of thanks but really it was impossible to find the appropriate words.

The Master and slut were left alone together. Gently he unfastened the chains and cuffs from her wrists and ankles but left the chain that still tethered her by the clitoris to his desk. Holding her by the waist he eased her off the desk and back into her basket, where he covered her solicitously with the grey fleece blanket.

'Rest for a while, my dear', he said. 'I'll get rid of our guests in an hour or so and then you and I can enjoy ourselves in private'. Squatting down beside her, he slipped a finger into her oozing cunt and ran it up and down her slit and around her swollen clitoris.

'I enjoyed your performance very much, slut' he told her, as she moaned and responded to his touch, pressing her shameless cunt against his fingers, wanting more. 'Be patient, little one, you'll get your reward' he chided, removing his hand and slipping his fingers into her mouth. Avidly she sucked on them, tasting her cunt and the older man's cum. 'And remember...' he told her, looking into her eyes and commanding her with his gaze, 'you are NOT to touch yourself or cum but wait until I return.'

The slut nodded, her mouth still full of his fingers. The admonition was unnecessary. All that she was, all that she did, belonged to him, her pleasure most of all. It was his to give and his to take away. As he left her in peace, she snuggled back down in her basket, her hands obediently pillowing her cheek and nowhere near her aching, dripping cunt. She drifted back into slumber, the weals on her skin throbbing gently, reminding her of her servitude, badges demonstrating her outstanding performance of her duties. Of course she would wait for him. She would wait forever if necessary. She would do whatever he told her and she would wait for as long as it pleased him... for her ultimate pleasure was gained simply in submission to his will.