Bonnie's Office

Author's note.

This is a work of fiction and intended as an adult fantasy. It is not based on any real experiences and I do not under any circusmstances endorse any of the actions contained within.

This story contains themes of reluctance, control and emotional conflict. If that's not for you, read no further.

Bonnie's Office.

I didn't know if I could go through with work today.

A sentiment I'm sure you've all felt at one time or another. Probably more than once. This was different. A cold dread, and a churning in my stomach. A nervous anticipation. What happened on Tuesday night in the office changed me. Scared me. I don't even know if I wanted it.

Tuesday

All I could think of as I boarded the bus was, I'm 26 and I'm wasting my life. I was so clear about where I wanted to go with my life when I was a girl. I left school, full of optimism for my future. Then I took a temp job, just to get some cash till I could follow my dreams. 8 years later I was still here.

The dead-end drudge, endless hours in front of the laptop. Pointless, depressing work. Like so many other office drones, we kid ourselves that what we do makes a difference. That our work is important. We work hard to fit in with the company vision.

But I still come home to my small dark apartment, alone, tired and unsatisfied with my life. At first, I was happy with the novelty of living alone. I could walk around in my panties, watch whatever I wanted. Chuck my things wherever I wanted. Feel free. Bring back anyone I wanted to spend the night and make as much orgasmic noise as I damn well wanted. Fuck the neighbours, they probably got a thrill out of hearing me get laid. But it soon wears off, it's not as glamorous as it makes out. Real life isn't like Friends.

The only real release I get now is temporary. A good evening for me now is a bottle of wine, soap opera, shower, bed, porn, masturbate, orgasm, sleep.

Let's get something straight. Women like porn too. I like porn. I'm not obsessed by it, but I like to watch people fucking. Imagining it was me. It helps me to release my pent-up frustrations, ease the stress of my crappy existence. The feeling of my fingers sliding across my clitoris, teasing and rubbing till I convulse and explode. I sometimes feel like I live for it. For a short while it drives away the loneliness.

But after a while, 'vanilla' porn just wasn't doing it for me. I had to seek out new kinks, explore different fetishes. I learned a lot about the state of my mental health as I slipped in a very secret depravity. I orgasmed to everything from public sex, gangbangs, water sports and a whole lot more. But what really, always, got me wet, was rough sex. I pictured myself being degraded, humiliated, defiled, as I busily sank my fingers deep inside myself, strumming my clit and screaming in release as my orgasm washed over me.

But it's porn that ended up getting me into trouble. Oh my god, so much trouble. So much heart pounding, pussy tingling, panty drenching trouble.

I'm a pretty underconfident person. I don't think I'm the most perfect, gorgeous woman out there. I don't dress to impress at work. I'm a business suit girl. Boring and frumpy, hair in a bun. It's not like I don't have a good body. It's just, well there are many better-looking women out there. In short, I'd given up. Resigned to being a loser. I'd probably get a cat or twenty soon.

I was lucky in that I had a whole office to myself. It was little more than a cubby hole, but it was mine. A small dirt-streaked window looked out onto the grey urban landscape to my right. A laminate desk filled nearly the whole width of the rectangular office

I'd worked all day to get a particular report finished. Dave, the sales manager wanted it for a stats meeting the following day. Mostly so he could take credit for it. Naturally I wasn't invited to the meeting. Not important enough. I had a tonne of other work to do which I'd put on the backburner, especially to get the work done.

"Cheers" Dave replied after I emailed it to him at 3pm. Cheers? Fucking Cheers?! I was so angry. Fucking bastard, sits on his arse doing nothing, taking credit for my fucking work. Work that I busted my arse to get done early. But he can't even give me the praise that I deserved? I thought of several very rude names, raged inwardly, and impotently. I ripped off my jacket, then stalked toward the breakout room to get coffee.

I stomped down the office, seething. My flats, seeming to boom against the thin hardwearing carpet. I must have looked like I felt, people moved out of the way. I swept through the door to the small kitchenette, and nearly crashed into Chris, one of the sales team leaders.

"Whoa, there babe" he leered, placing his hands on my waist. I slapped his hands away, furious at myself. I hated Chris. He was handsome, smooth and smelled great. But he was also a Narcissistic, misogynistic bastard. I hated the way he treated women as sport. I hated how gorgeous he was, and I hated the damp spot that always formed between my legs.

"Don't fucking say one more word Chris! I swear I'll run your sorry ass to HR so fast you'll think you're breaking the land speed record" I snarled

He held up his hands, a smirk creasing his boyish face. Shit he was good looking, even though he was a dick.

"Hey, hey! What's up with the ice maiden today? Underwear too tight again?" He chuckled.

I sighed, what was the point. The threat to take him to HR was a bluff. He'd been complained about several times before, but always came out of it smelling of roses. The guys in the office loved him, looked up to him. He was a hero for bedding half of the female work force. Half the girls swooned over him, the other half begrudged that he hadn't bedded them yet. The effect was that it made him virtually untouchable.

"Just leave me alone Chris, I'm not in the mood" I sighed, turning my back to him, flicking the kettle on. I yanked the cupboard open searching for a clean mug. I felt him move close behind me. I tensed.

"Ahhh come on Bonnie. You know you can always talk to me, I've got your back" he said in his low sexy voice. I felt a light pressure between my shoulder blades as his finger traced my spine through my blouse. I jerked away before he could reach my bra strap.

"Stop it!" I shouted as I whirled around. My heart started to beat hard and I could feel the blush beginning in my chest. He was still close to me. My breasts were nearly touching his chest. He was a couple of inches taller than me and I had to direct my glare slightly upward, jutting out my chin. I tried to look defiant, but I was nervous and felt vulnerable in the presence of this man.

He cocked his head, silently gazing at me. He stepped back and lowered his stare to my legs. My skirt was very conservative, at my knees and lose enough to hide some of my shape, but not so loose as to fly away. I stood frozen and he tracked over my hips. God, I felt naked under his stare, I didn't know whether to be flattered at his interest, or pissed off and angry at his impertinence.

Whilst I tried to decide between the two, his eyes travelled further and lingered on my breasts. I didn't have huge breasts, but I was fairly proud of them, I didn't sag. A B cup was more than enough for me. Not that I particularly wanted them on display.

But his stare made me want to push my chest out. Instead, I tried to look defiant, in spite of the crimson tinge to my cheeks. This had gone on long enough.

"Fuck off Chris, I'm warning you" I said trying to hide the quaver in my voice.

He simply cocked an eye brow at me as his eyes finally met mine. "You say no Bonnie, but you clearly mean yes" He smirked, flicking his eyes down to my chest.

I glanced down and caught sight of my nipples poking through my bra and blouse. Urgh cheap fabric! I immediately crossed my arm over my traitorous nipples. He was so close to me, my focus shifted and I could see his thumbs hooked into his belt, his fingers seemed to be pointing downward. I couldn't help it, I looked. I could see his bulge. Heat rose between my legs, totally unbidden. I took a sudden intake of breath.

Embarrassed beyond belief, I barged past him, fleeing the room. His magnificent cologne followed my half way down the corridor, fanning the growing flames in my loins. I slammed the toilet door open and rushed to a cubicle, fumbling with the lock. I pressed my back to the door. And let out a ragged breath.

Betrayed by my own body. In front of the worst man in the office. But if he was the worst man at work, maybe the world, how come he made me feel like that? Why did my body respond? God even thinking about it made me tingle. What if he's reached out and touched my boobs? I felt a little gush between my legs. I hastily pulled my skirt up and glared at my panties. A little wet spot slowly spread, staining the pretty sky-blue material dark.

God damn it I thought. I pushed my right hand into my panties, just to check that I hadn't ruined myself for the rest of the day. As soon as my fingers came into contact with my wetness I gasped aloud. A huge thrill raced through me and I instantly pictured Chris leaning over me, his hand cupping my mound. I couldn't get the image out of my mind. My hand took over and quickly my fingers found my clitoris. I was so on edge, my legs shook. I squeezed my eyes shut, rolling my head to the side. I groaned loudly. Holy shit I was going to cum! I'd barely touched myself.

My orgasm hit me like a locomotive. Sudden and at full speed, I barely had any warning. I hunched forward and bit down on my free hand, but a muffled wail still escaped. My legs snapped shut as I rode the first wave. I slid down the toilet door, hand still wedged in my panties, crushed by my thighs. My fingers involuntarily convulsed against my clit, sending the second wave crashing over me. I flung my head back, cracking it against the thin MDF door, but the orgasm didn't abate.

I sobbed and cried my way through the most intense orgasm I'd ever had, before collapsing my ass onto the cold restroom floor. My eyes fluttered, weariness threatening to overtake me. I had to will myself to pull my hand free from my soaked panties. Dazed I held my hand up, and stared uncomprehending at the sticky juice coating my digits. I blinked and tried to control my breathing, the dull pain in the back of my head finally breaking through the heavenly pleasure of my climax.

Gingerly, I tried to get up off the floor, steadying myself on the toilet and the cubicle wall. On still shaky legs, I took stock of myself. A bit crumpled, and my knickers were utterly ruined. I slipped them down to my knees, pulled some toilet roll out and tried to soak up the worst of my cum.

I gave up. I slipped them the rest of the way off and bundled them into a ball in my fist. I felt weird with no underwear on. I'd never gone commando before. I bet Chris would get a surprise if he put his hand up my... NO! I shouted at myself, I do NOT want that!

I looked in the mirror, flushed but still presentable. I washed my face, patted down my hair and took a deep breath.

As I walked back to my office, I was sure everyone could tell I wasn't wearing panties. I worked hard to keep my paranoia in check, but a secret thrill coursed through me.

I was lucky in that I had a whole office to myself. It was little more than a cubby hole, but it was mine. It was a grey overcast day and what little light there was spread gloomily across my desk. The lighting sensor activated and the overhead strip flickered on. The company had an open door policy, unless conducting meetings, so I just breezed in and plonked myself on my chair behind my desk.

I was immediately aware of my nakedness against the smooth liner of my skirt. It felt cool and smooth. Sexy. I bit my bottom lip as I settled into my chair. I'd walked through my workplace with no panties on. I felt so naughty, I actually felt sexy. I could feel my cheeks begin to burn and the tingle began to form in my pussy again.

I glanced toward my door. Most of my body was blocked from view by the desk and laptop. The desk had a modesty board, so I was pretty safe. I dipped my hand under my skirt again. I was wet and my touch sent a jolt through me. I was going to ruin my skirt at this rate. I searched in my handbag, maybe I had some tissues I could use? Nothing, no tissues, no sanitary pads, certainly no spare panties.

I glanced toward the door again. No-one. There was nothing else for it, I didn't want to ruin my skirt too! I half rose from the seat, pulling the skirt up slightly. I flicked the back of the material out and sat down in a rush, my bare ass now touching the rough material of the office chair.

I bit my lip harder and fidgeted. My pussy was on fire, what the hell was happening to me?

I struggled to concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. One of the benefits of being a loser is that no-one bothers you. I had no visitors in my little office that afternoon. I had to resist the urge to play with myself several times. I settled for rocking myself gently, and squeezing my thighs together to send thrills through me. I'd need a new chair by the end of the week at this rate.

The clock ticked past 5pm and most of my colleagues went home. I'd finally managed to get on a roll and was cracking through some of the more important pieces of work. But the feeling of the chair against my naked sex was never far from my mind and I was so horny.

By 6pm everyone had left. I often stayed late; it wasn't like I had anything to get home for. Or anyone, and the extra overtime money always came in handy. Besides, I liked having the office to myself, it was peaceful.

I finished the report I was working on, and sat back with a sigh. I lolled my head from side to side, closing my eyes. I shifted my weight and the warm fabric rasped against my pussy. I dropped my hands to my lap and stroked my thighs. I bit my bottom lip, and stretched my back as I teased the sensitive skin at the hem of my skirt. Looking up, I slowly raised the skirt up slightly, the cool material sending fresh chills through my already over sexed senses. My fingers idly danced over my skin and I parted my legs slightly, allowing cool air to flow up against my overheated sex. I rocked forward slightly, angling my hips forward. My clit now firmly pressed into the chairs rough fabric. I sighed quietly. I suddenly stopped. Maybe I shouldn't? Not here at work.

I stood up and stretched, my skirt fell back into place, and I felt a sudden disappointment at the lack of contact against my naked pussy. I shook my hair out of its bun and let it cascade to my shoulders. Padding softly to my open door, I peered around the frame standing stock still, listening. The air was still, most of the lights had gone out and the open parts of the office were dark and silent.

I took a few more minutes, just leaning against the door frame. Trying to rationalise my thoughts. I'd felt so out of control today with Chris, my body had responded exactly how it shouldn't have done. I obviously needed to get laid. I'd talk my bestie into a night out on Friday, on the pull. Till then I needed some release. My earlier orgasm had only made my itch worse and being forced to go knickerless all afternoon had been torture.

Happy I was alone, I couldn't wait any longer and rushed back to my desk. Sitting down in a hurry. I brought out my phone and quickly searched for some porn. I shifted my ass and pulled my skirt up, spreading my legs slightly. The cool air did little to calm the flames in my crotch.

I already knew what porn I needed, no point in piddling about. I loaded up my favourite site, then tapped on my history. I tapped on the most recent thumbnail.

Immediately, a woman appeared on my small screen. A man wrapped his arm around her and lifted her bodily, pushing her hard back against the wall behind her. His other hand gripped her chin as he looked at her without pity.

I dropped my free hand to my bare thigh and traced small teasing circles on the soft pale skin. Even my own touch sent a thrill racing through me.

Back on the screen, the man ripped the woman's blouse open, buttons flew as she squealed. He grabbed and mauled her breasts, pulling them from her bra. I propped the phone on the desk and leaned back in the chair. Lust had been bubbling and welling inside me all day, the bathroom cum had just been the tip of the iceberg. I scrabbled at my blouse with my other hand, shakily trying to pull the buttons loose. Finally succeeding in opening my shirt enough to slide my hand across my chest and into the cup of my plain bra. I pinched my nipple hard, twisting and pulling. I gasped loudly as a fresh surge shot through me.

I shifted my hips forward and ran my hand straight up to my pussy. No need to tease, I was far too worked up. The earlier encounter, the naughtiness. I sighed, put one foot up on my desk, opening myself further, and rubbed my clit hard.

I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, as I listened to the woman on the video whimper and the man growl and snarl at her.

Fuck that was so hot. He was calling her a slut and a whore, going on about how he was going to fuck her cunt. Oh, I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter! I dipped a finger inside myself, shuddering at the wickedness of doing it at my work desk. I slipped another finger in. My mouth was open and I moved my hips to meet my thrusting digits.

I was getting so close; I could feel it was going to be a big one. A great, screaming orgasm. I might even gush or squirt. I was damn near out of control.

"Whoa there Bonnie! Doing a little bit of 'overtime'?"

The voice snapped me out of my near orgasmic bliss. I gave a great gasp, trying to push back my chair, it tipped and I fell, sprawling on the floor in an ungraceful mess.

Chris stepped around the desk, a huge smirk on his gorgeous, arrogant face. I was frozen in place. My skirt was hitched around my ass, my legs spread at an awkward angle and my throbbing, glistening pussy was on display.

My phone lay on my desk, Chris glanced over at it, before reaching for it.

"Fuck my slut cunt! I'm you're whore!" the tinny voice of the woman announced in the silence. I squeezed my eyes, and my legs, shut.

"Chris, look I...." I started.

"Hush now Bonnie, I'm watching something, don't interrupt" Chris murmured.

I struggled up off the floor. "Give me my phone!" I yelled in panic, reaching for it, my open shirt gaping, my nipple still poking out of it's cup. He snatched it out of reach.

"Uh uh, this here is evidence. Can you imagine what HR will say when they find out what happened here this evening?" He enquired, that maddening smile still creased his lips.

"Please Chris?" I pleaded.

"Bonnie, this is serious. Like, gross misconduct serious. Getting fired serious. I have a duty to report this" He feigned righteously.

"Jesus Christ Chris, stop fucking around and give me my phone" I demanded, trying to put as much force into my voice as I could.

"You know I had you pegged for a hopeless romantic. I figured that was why you were always so miserable. You know, because 'Mr Right' hadn't appeared yet. But damn, look at this shit! Bonnie you're a freak! I'd ask if this really got you off, but I saw how wet your cunt was. Damn I could hear how wet you were half way across the office" he laughed.

I was in full panic now, and a tear formed, cascading down my cheek. "I not a freak! Please Chris, just give me my phone. I want to go home" I cried.

He looked me full in the face.

"Hmmm, no I don't think so" he said eventually. "But I think it would be good, you know for you, if you admitted that you liked watching women be treated like sluts" He said quietly.

"You could call it therapy. I'm not an unreasonable guy. I'll even give you your phone back, if you just say these little words 'I like to watch sluts'. Do you think you could do that?" His voice was like honey. But I knew there was poison in there somewhere.