When morning came, Candice opened her eyes and rolled over in bed. She had slept the deep sleep of the sexually fulfilled and exhausted. As she laid there, going over the thoughts of the last 24 hours, she was amazed at the direction the time had taken. She had found a true dominant master in Mark, and she knew that Brandon had brought him into their sex life for a reason. He truly knew her desires, although she had not voiced them. She had always wanted to enjoy being ravished in front of an 'audience', and now she smiled to herself, thinking, "that's one I can cross off my list".
She recalled when she had first met Brandon. She had been a successful businesswoman, mid-twenties, burned out on life. Her boyfriend of two years had just dumped her in order to take a job opportunity in Chicago, and she was barrelling rapidly down a winding path to the realization that she was dissatisfied with her life. She had lost interest in her job. She had plenty of friends, but none that were single. She had no desire to have children. And unfortunately, she had never had good, real, electric sex.
She had been introverted her entire life. She had been given a woman's body at the age of 12, and figured out quickly that the unwanted attention went away as she put on excess weight. It enabled her to hide from the prying eyes of the world. She rarely dated in high school, had one steady relationship that never took her virginity in college, and never thought her womanly curves would find her a man in a world of slender, plastic surgery-aided, female bodies.
On a business trip that sent her to Cincinnati, she had the misfortune of a delayed flight that found her in the airport lounge, killing time in a martini glass. Feeling as though she was being watched, she turned slightly from the bar, searching for the owner of the stare. She couldn't detect it, and quickly turned around, embarrassed. The feeling of eyes on her never ceased, so finally, she grabbed her purse and headed out. Once she made it on the plane, she relaxed a bit. However, halfway into the flight, a flight attendant brought her a note that simply read, "I think you're lovely". She had lost it at that point, sure a maniacal stalker was following her.
At her conference, she sat through presentation after presentation, counting the hours until she could escape to her room and lose herself in a soothing bubble bath. Occasionally, she would glance sideways at the attractive man next to her. He never seemed to notice she was there, and she was far from a flirt. At the end of the day, she gathered her briefcase to head up to her room. She stepped into the elevator with ten other strangers, and found herself squeezed against the side of the car. While riding upwards, she began to absently think about what she wanted for dinner when she distinctly felt a hand pressed against her ass. She jerked slightly, determined to turn around, but the elevator was too crowded. That hand began stroking, pressing, massaging her ass, and to her surprise, she found herself aroused. She was getting gratification out of an anonymous action in an elevator full of strangers. Subconsciously, she closed her eyes and pressed against that hand when it became still, willing it to continue. Before she knew it, the elevator stopped and a handful of people exited. She began to move when the hand grabbed her wrist, out of plain sight, and squeezed it hard. As the remaining occupants moved forward closer to the doors, she heard a whisper in her ear, "Do not turn around".
With each additional floor, the elevator gradually emptied until only she and the man behind her were left. She looked up. Five more floors to go. As the elevator began to move again, the hand began to caress her hair. She whimpered. Another hand grazed her breast, circled her waist, and pulled her against him. A whisper, "if you want me to stop, tell me now."
She couldn't believe her ears when she heard a voice that sounded strangely like her own say, "Please don't".
When the elevator opened on her floor, a hand on her back urged her forward. She dared not turn around. She walked to her room, put her key into the door, and heard him say, "would you like me to leave? If I stay, I will want you to let me touch you."
Her mind began racing. She had never done anything in her life that even compared to reckless. She had always been the good girl, good student, practical, sensible. She didn't even know what he looked like, but his touch gave her goosebumps. She had to find out.
"Please come inside," she told him in a desperate plea.
He followed her in. He guided her to the sofa, and sat across from her on an ottoman. She gasped as she took in his handsome features. As soon as she saw his red tie, she immediately knew it was the gentleman from her table at the conference. He smiled warmly at her. "Please don't think I'm crazy," he said, "but I can't help myself." He winked at her. "I think you're lovely."
"That was YOU?!" she shrieked.
"You're gorgeous. From the moment I saw you in the airport lounge, saw your curvaceous body and your beautiful face, I hoped we would share a common destination."
That night flew by. He ordered up room service and they ate together, sharing their backgrounds, enjoying a wonderful conversation. She loved everything about him and felt instantly safe with him, although they had just met. That night, and the next, he somehow convinced her to let him stay with her. He slept with her in his arms, falling asleep long after she did, spending countless time admiring her gentle features. His manner with her gave her a feeling of completeness and being appreciated that she had never experienced. After they parted, she did not hear from him for three months. He called upon her to meet him in Chicago and she flew there without a second thought. He forced her to submit to him that weekend and she received countless hours of pleasure from it. He had never had a woman so pure in her desire to please. She had never experienced a chemistry so fiery, so potent. He told her he could promise her nothing in terms of a relationship, but she didn't care. She was hooked. She met him for a weekend every few months. Soon, the mere sound of his voice on the phone would have ready to pack her bags. She knew he loved her in a way more unique and special than a typical relationship, and her total submission to him was more love than she had ever been able to feel or share. In short, being his whore...HIS whore...was her world. What he did outside of their trysts she knew little of, but did not care.
Those memories made her smile as she lay in bed. But his voice awakened her immediately.
"Are you awake, my sweet?"
She sat up in the bed and turned to him. "Yes, sir."
"Did you enjoy my gift for you last night? Did serving Mark in my presence thrill you?"
"Yes, sir. It made me feel...." she trailed off.
"Did it make you feel like a cheap slut? Because that's what you are."
She blushed. "Yes, sir."
"I have waited patiently these last days while you have whorishly serviced other men. You will make that up to me now."
"Yes, sir. Whatever you wish."
"Go take a shower and wash your filthy body. I have no use for you as you are." He turned and left.
She got in the shower and scrubbed her body, washed her hair, and enjoyed the hot, steaming water. Turning it off, she stepped out and toweled herself dry. She put on her robe and padded out into the living room, where he sat. As she came around the corner, she could hear heavy breathing, guttural sounds, and moaning. She stopped in her tracks and he turned to her and smiled.
"Yes, my dear. You are just in time to see your encore performance. Come and sit here at my feet."
She complied with his instruction and turned to the screen. She jerked with the realization that what she was watching now was her mouth, filled with Mark's cock...her eyes, watering but gleaming....her face, being fucked. She then looked to the floor, shamefully aware of her body and her actions.
"What's wrong, my pet? Do you feel used watching this? Do you feel exploited?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes welled up as she realized what she had become. Nothing more than a sex-hungry, cock-starved whore. She had no idea her performance had been captured for posterity.
Brandon reached down suddenly, grabbing a handful of her hair and violently forcing her face closer to the screen.
"Go on, watch it! Don't act as though it bothers you! You're a worthless cock swallowing bitch! Watch your handiwork!"
