An Office Encounter

As we rode up in the elevator, I could not help but notice the amazing arse on the woman that was showing me up to our meeting. Standing slightly behind her, I kept surreptitiously glancing down at the checked fabric of her pencil skirt stretched tight over two pert cheeks, accentuated by the ridiculously high heels she was wearing. I've always loved the look of professional women in tight skirts and heels, and I started imagining whether she was wearing a thong or going commando by the time we reached the 14th floor.

I followed her through a maze of cubicles, seemingly filled with incredible-looking women, until as we arrived at the corner office, a tall elegantly dressed man stepped forward.

"Dr Colby, I assume? Great to meet you," he said.

"Yes. Mr Jenkins? It is a pleasure. Ever since receiving your call, I've been intrigued. I'm not sure what you want from me, but happy to assist if I can add value."

"Well then let's get down to business." As we were about to go into his office, he paused "Would you like tea or coffee? Something stronger?"

"A strong coffee, milk, no sugar, please."

Turning to the gorgeous blond perched on a stool at the desk in front of his office, he demanded "Two coffees, Rachel".

She glanced nervously up at him "Yes sir", immediately rising and moving towards the coffee machine at the end of her desk. Damn, I thought, are all the women in this office this hot? In the company I had recently sold, we had good looking women, but none of them wore tight skirts, plunging tops and 4-inch heels.

For me, running a company in the #MeToo era, compounded by the entitlement of Millennials, had been challenging to say the least, both in terms of dress codes and accepted behaviours. It was initially apparent that this did not seem to be such an issue in this office.

He led me into his office, after a meaningful glance and a pointed "You too Jane" at my check-skirted guide. She dutifully followed us in.

"I'm really glad you decided to meet with me James." He began. "Can I call you James, or do you prefer Jim?"

"I prefer James. I find Jim too American."

"Of course, please call me Roger. Have a seat". He indicated one of two tall-backed burgundy chairs, on the one side of a low glass and stainless-steel coffee table. He took the other chair while Jane sat demurely on a large leather ottoman opposite us.

Jane's skirt raised until I was sure I could see the top of what looked like white stay up stockings. She tried valiantly to pull the skirt down as she crossed her legs, but it was too short to really make a difference. I tried not to ogle, but that darker stocking pattern just under her skirt kept drawing my eyes back like a magnet. I saw her glance my way, and she was clearly uncomfortable, but made no further attempt to prevent me enjoying the view. I had this weird feeling that I was in a sophisticated strip club, at the start of a set where the stripper was feigning innocence, but everyone knew what the outcome would be.

Roger pulled my attention away from those long stocking clad legs when he started "My board members and I have been tracking your progress over the last number of years. We've been incredibly impressed by you and your former company's ability to engage with senior bureaucrats and politicians across the developing world, both in promoting renewable energy technologies and in making lucrative deals. You clearly have a unique ability to manipulate clients and get shit done".

The profanity was so out of place from this grey-haired urbanite in his luxurious office, that I almost missed it. Thinking it was a test or provocation, I let it slide unremarked, rather responding "I have found that those with power just need some persuasion and it is important to know what drives them. If you know that, you can achieve whatever you want."

As I said this, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jane shudder slightly. I didn't give this a further thought, as I was holding Roger's intense steely-blue stare. This was clearly a moment, even though I did not know at the time what it meant.

"James, that is exactly why we approached you. We would like you to be an advisor to DevTech, to facilitate our operations in various countries across the world. As you will have learned from the enquiries that I assume you have made, we develop and implement infrastructure and technology solutions. Typically, in water, energy, transport and communications across the world." He spoke somewhat smugly. "Wherever there's a crisis, DevTech is there to help. And we would like to ask you to assist us using your particular enabling skills and networks."

"You seem to know a fair amount about me, so you also know that the sale of my company means I don't need to work. Why would I waste retirement to do more of what I have been doing for 20 years?" I responded somewhat churlishly.

At that moment the blond minced in with two coffees. She put mine on the table in front of me, and then went over to Roger to place his coffee. In noticed she bent straight legged as she put the coffee down and while maintaining that position for a few extra seconds, Roger casually slid his hand up her skirt to just below her crotch. I pretended not to notice, and again when he gave her a slap on the backside saying. "Off you go you little minx". The whole experience seemed stranger and stranger.

I sipped my coffee as he began again. "Ahh, that's where Jane comes in. While you have all you want, we believe you have never had all you desire. Jane spread your legs!" As I was reeling from this statement, Jane began to uncross those amazing thighs and open them towards us. Her legs were following the instruction, but her face was a picture of humiliation. Her lip trembled and a tear formed at the corner of her left eye. As she spread her legs, she slid her hands down her thighs and I noticed a wedding band on her left hand. I wondered why a married woman would so wantonly spread her legs on her boss's instruction.

She halted when her knees were about a foot apart, but quickly widened them when Roger growled "WIDER". I now had proper sight of those incredible legs leading up her thigh-high white stockings, to an expanse of soft white thigh and a thin strip of white silk nestled snuggly in her crotch. I could just make out the impression of her vulva.

The contrast of sex and despair was one of the most erotic moments of my life. At least up until then. My cock was feeling quite uncomfortable as it started to harden, but I did nothing to ease the pressure. I was not prepared to show any weakness to Roger, as he seemed to recline unaffected by the lurid display.

I looked back at Roger, as if to say "What the fuck?"

But he pre-empted me by beginning "We know you have a perspective that is not shared by the mainstream. Even though you use the best VPN's, we know you visit the most depraved porn and erotic story sites. We are also aware of that event last year in Rio that you managed to squash. We are not here to judge, but rather to enable. And Jane is a first taste of what that could mean if you join us".

My heart literally stopped in that moment, the fear and guilt of my secret obsessions being exposed. Did they know I used rough sex and rape porn to get off and find some release and pleasure, despite the ongoing politically correct positions I had had to take to manage my company? If they exposed me, it would ruin my reputation and lay waste to my social life.

I looked from Roger to Jane, the former reclining comfortably in his chair, while Jane sat legs spread wide, eyes downcast and her face a picture of misery. As I was about to respond, Roger instructed "Jane, why don't you tell us why you are reluctantly showing us your panty-clad cunt".

"Please don't make me, Sir" she responded.

With that my confusion escalated, but with a harsh "TELL HIM" she began.

"Dr Colby, sir. I am a corporate whore. Two years ago, I began to work here as a financial analyst. I still work in the finance department, but now I belong to DevTech. My body and mind exist for the pleasure of my bosses." As she said this, a single tear dripped down her cheek and she began to rock gently on the ottoman.

To my astonishment, Roger then said. "Take off your panties and give them to Dr Colby. Then play with your cunt, while telling him why they are so sentimental to you".

Even though she hesitated for a moment, Jane hooked her fingers underneath her checked skirt and pulled her panties down her thighs, along her silky-smooth calves and over her black heels. She could not look at either of us as she did this and then with the most amazingly graceful movement, she shifted from sitting on the ottoman to kneeling in front of me on the coffee table. She held her white thong panties as an offering to me in both hands. As I took them, I saw the crème in the gusset, showing her obvious arousal from this humiliation. Not being experienced in any of this, I was both astounded and aroused. I assumed it was a gift, so pocketed them a souvenir.

As she pulled back, her grace and beauty triggered an image of mercury flowing over glass. At this stage, I had no option but to adjust my rock-hard cock, but no one in the room seemed to care or notice. One was nonchalantly sipping on his coffee and the other looking anywhere but at me. As she sat down again, Jane immediately spread her legs wide and started fingering herself, as if this was part of a trained act. Seeing her nude pussy so simply displayed and manipulated, literally gave me heart palpitations. My pulse pounded and I could taste iron in the back of my throat, my blood boiling so intensely. I was extremely aroused from the unexpected and forbidden nature of what I was seeing. As she stroked her pussy lips her labia opened, and I could start to see the inside of her dark hole.

She began in a small and quavering voice. "Those panties are the same as I wore on my Wedding Day. So are my stockings and my bra. My owners require me to come to work every day in the same set of underwear . . ."

As she hesitated, Roger jumped in and prompted with a smirk, "But you must explain why they are especially sentimental for you and the Company, and why we want you to wear them, always. I'm sure he wants to hear the details, don't you James? And have some respect, look James in the eye and smile while you tell him the 'full version', as we've practiced".

"Yes sure" I uttered. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing but had no intention to interrupt this amazing experience. When would I ever get a chance to objectify and degrade a girl at work, with seemingly little consequence?

She slowly looked up at me with her glistening eyes and continued "When I joined the company, I was engaged to be married within six months. During probation everything seemed fine, but once I was permanently employed, things became more serious. At first, the requirements to dress appropriately in short skirts and heels seemed too strict, but I complied after HR told me that was the dress code."

She blinked in recollection at that point, her face flooded with emotion. "In my fifth month, I accused one of the managers of sexual harassment after he grabbed my bottom at the photocopy machine. It was then that HR explained the way things were and sent me on a week-long employee training course. After that I realised that I was going to be a toy for 'important men'. I was employed because I am a 'hot piece of arse'. The company owns me and I 'live for the company' . . ."

At this point Roger got impatient and grunted "Cut to the fun part of the story, bitch". I saw a panicked jolt and glance towards Roger, but she settled herself and looked back at me with desperate and teary eyes, but an attempt at a lopsided forced smile.

"On the day of my wedding, I was so happy to be marrying Rupert. I thought that I would have a respite from the duties at work, and maybe the Company would let me be a loyal wife going forward. Obviously and with great pride . . ." At this point her sorrow cause her to sob deeply twice, but she managed to collect herself and look me back in the eyes with a desperate smile.

". . . I invited Roger and the other two Directors of DevTech to the wedding. Because my father has passed, they insisted on accompanying me to the ceremony in the bridal car. I spent the entire trip on my knees sucking all three of them off. They made me swallow and walk up the aisle without rinsing my mouth. They said I would always be their girl, and if I resisted all my family and Rupert's family would suffer painfully. My week in 'employee training' ensured I believed them. When my husband Rupert 'kissed the bride', I died inside. . . he made a face and looked at me strangely. . . but he said nothing."

At this point her face dropped and she slowed her masturbation, until Roger said coldly "Eyes and cunt". She quickly looked at me and began a frantic strumming of her pussy lips, starting to thrust one finger into her hole on every third stroke while making faces like she was in ecstasy. I also noticed her juices oozing down her crack, despite the misery. The sense of control Roger had over this woman made me so hard. I wondered what training she must have endured to ensure such obedience and submission.

"During the reception, all three Directors insisted on dancing with me over and over, while I cajoled Rupert into believing that everything was fine. Rupert and I left together, but he was asleep before we got to the hotel. I had to get the porter to help me get him up to my room. Five minutes after we were in the room, they entered with their own key. . ."

At this point Roger stood up and said "James I think you get the jist of the story. Suffice it to say we enjoyed the whore in every hole until early the next morning, while the jilted husband slept off the drugs in a chair. I have to tell you that fucking a new bride on the evening of her wedding is one of life's great pleasures, one which I hope to be able to share with you one day" he said with a wink.

At this point he strode over to Jane and ripped her jacket and blouse off her shoulders, sending buttons flying in all directions. Until then, I hadn't really had the opportunity to check her tits, but there they were in all their glory, presented in a half cup bra that no one in their right mind would wear to work. Then I remembered the comment that she was required to wear her wedding underwear every day. Damn, that was epic. To fuck with a chick like that, and to have such control that she would humiliate herself for you, using the one day that should be most sacred . . .

That realisation and the way it made my heart pound, was the start of my slide into their world.

Roger broke my train of thought when he grabbed her right nipple, twisting and lifting so that she quickly stood up. For a moment I though she looked somewhat silly with her skirt half-way up her thighs, her right hand in her cunt and her tit stretched painfully upwards. But when she screeched the reality of her predicament struck me. It was clear she was a toy and would endure whatever the 'important men' required, and I began to see I was 'important'. Silliness quickly turned to sizzling hot.

Roger instructed her to "loose the skirt" which she promptly did. Again, I wondered at what training was required to get a professional woman to respond instantaneously to humiliating commands. The thought caused my throat to constrict with excitement and I started to hyperventilate. Without removing his hand from her twisted nipple, he looked at me and said "Relax man, there is plenty of time for this cunt. She's not going anywhere. You can do whatever you what to her and more, without repercussions. Isn't that right whore?"

Without hesitation she responded "Yes, Sir", as though we had got through some type of weird foreplay and she knew her role.

Roger then playfully whispered in her ear, loud enough for me to hear "Looks like you excited James and should help him out." Roger released her tit, which snapped back and with a resigned look Jane knelt down in front of me. She unbuckled my belt but used her teeth to unzip me. After pulling my trousers down, she expertly began to suckle my dick without using her hands. I was so hard that at first, she only licked and sucked at half my cock.

While this was happening, Roger went and poured what looked like two single malts from a bar on the far side of the room. As he came back and offered me one glass before he sat back down in his chair snarling "Bitch, that's not good enough. Take him all the way down like you've been taught, otherwise I will lash your cunt and fry your ass until they close up, and then we will fuck you in both, at the same time . . ."

The threat clearly meant something to her because she immediately drove her mouth all the way down onto my organ. It was both magnificent to feel and amazing to watch another person impale themselves for your pleasure, despite their obvious discomfort.

As she went down, her eyes rolled, and I could hear the gagging sounds as her stomach convulsed. Once she was down there, it was so good that I grabbed the back of her head and pushed down harder. Her constricting throat massaged me in a way that I had never felt before, so I did the natural thing and held her there. After about thirty seconds I realised I may choke her, so let her off for a couple of seconds to get a breath, before driving her head back down.

The next time she came up for breath, so did a gulch of bile. It flowed all over my trousers and I got so irritated that I slapped the side of her head "Don't you dare make any more mess. Keep your mess to yourself". Oh, what a wonderful feeling when slightly cross-eyed, she looked up into my eyes with my member filling her mouth and said "Mm fowwy, fir".

That was the trigger to all my hostility from the past 20 years of playing it safe. Here I had a whore that would do whatever I wanted without consequence. I grabbed her hair and pulverised her throat for the next ten minutes, before I felt the tell-tale tingle in my balls, followed by the smooth spurting of cum up my shaft. I held her down while I emptied myself into her throat, purely as a receptacle to my cum and my past frustrations. On the last spurt, I pulled back so she would taste my seed and then told her to show it to me. As the trained lap dog that she was, she dutifully opened her mouth and then swallowed when I instructed her to.

Her tear streaked face and bile covered chin was so pitiful that I began to feel guilt for what I had done. Years of social mores began to flood my mind and the ever-present risk of exposure began to overwhelm my simple pleasure, until Roger said "Wasn't that what you desired, wanted, needed, James. In our world, cunts are just that. Holes that obey and give pleasure when required."

He then turned to the girl in front of me commanding "Clean up your mess, bitch", at which she started licking my softening dick from our joint fluids and then attempted to clean her mess off my balls and trousers. Once she had sucked up as much as she could, she crawled to the bar to get a wet cloth to complete the job. Watching her submission, regardless of how reluctant, eased my guilt and paranoia.

Roger looked at me earnestly and said "James, I meant everything I said about us wanting you to join our business. Jane is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what you can experience. We are a global business and we would like to use your facilitating skills to help us out of awkward situations. It's clear you'll enjoy the perks, so hopefully you'll see that this arrangement could be mutually beneficial. If you are interested, I'd like you to fly to Dubai tonight to meet our CEO. In the meantime, lets enjoy Jane some more, and there is also a cute intern I am sure you'd like to meet".