Broken In By Black Cock, Part 9
This is the final part of Mel and Gina's story. The second half of the final day of Melanie's blackmail and ownership by Maurice.
Warning: This story contains Non-Consent, interracial and anal sex, BDSM, as well as verbal and physical humiliation.
As always, this is a fantasy, and is not meant to reflect or inspire any real-world attitudes or activities. If any of that isn't for you, please read no further.
***
Day 7 - Continued
Mel's jaw hung open. This didn't make any sense.
She stood in the doorway of a spare office at her workplace. Today was the last day of a week of sexual ownership and torment at the hands of a dominant Black master, Maurice, and her former best friend Gina. The week was an agreement she had made under blackmail, to get her hands on evidence that she had defrauded her employers, but it had become a sexual awakening for Melanie Clyde.
She had dumped her long-time fiancé, fallen completely under Maurice's enthrallment, and embraced her nature as an exclusive lover of Black men - even going so far as to get a tattoo that lunchtime signifying her black-only status. In fact, she held the semen of the tattoo artist and the studio owner inside her right now, sequestered inside her vagina by a pair of her own panties left stuffed uncomfortably in her entrance, like a cork to a bottle.
On her return to the office her boss, Mr Larson, had told her the company had found financial irregularities that she knew could only be due to her fraud, and were hiring an outside consultant to get to the bottom of things. Which meant uncovering everything she had spent this week trying to conceal. She had thought that this consultant would be sat within this office.
But what she found inside instead was much worse.
"Ah, Melanie! My favourite... associate."
The unctuous voice belonged to Mr Alan Gregory, her biggest client and, she had found out that week, a despicable pervert. Mr Gregory had taken her anal virginity at a pool party only a couple of days ago, defiling her and seeming to take a sick amount of pleasure in her humiliation. Mr Gregory was sat at the high, polished mahogany desk in the spare office, reading a folder of documents through his coke-bottle glasses. He grinned up at Mel, the tip of his tongue just poking out between fat, old lips.
Mel didn't understand. Mr Gregory couldn't be the consultant. He
couldn't
, he was a client, it would be a clear conflict of interest!
She turned to her boss, with a look she hoped was quizzical rather than panicked. "The consultant? This can't... I mean, Mr Gregory..."
It took a moment for Mr Larson to realise what she was saying. "What? Oh, no, the consultant will be here soon. He needs to interview Mr Gregory, of course, as our biggest client. As well as all the directors, including yourself Mel. But while he's here, Mr Gregory asked to review his own account finances. You're the account lead, so please help him Mel." He turned to Mr Gregory, "Alan, whatever you need, Mel is your girl."
"Oh, I know she
is."
Mr Gregory tittered, eyeing Mel up and down. Mel found his gaze excruciating.
"Great, I'll leave you two alone until the consultant arrives." And before she could object, Mr Larson had left the room, closing the door on Mel and Mr Gregory.
"Well, well Melanie. I told you I'd see you again on Monday and here we are." Mr Gregory tittered again. His eyes were roaming all over Mel. Over her ruffled hair and smudged make-up, evidence of the disastrous fuck-session she'd had at the tattoo studio. Over her suit jacket and cream cashmere turtleneck, which concealed a leather collar around her neck with the letters B-L-A-C-K C-O-C-K W-H-O-R-E embossed across it, as well as a fresh new tattoo on her hip bone: a black spade with a 'Q' in flesh within, both symbols of her ownership. And finally his eyes moved to her long, bare legs, her best feature, up from the ankles all the way to the hem of her suit skirt. Beneath which, her panties were lodged inside her pussy, still holding back their payload like a reservoir dam.
Mr Gregory could not have known any of this, but the way his gaze made her skin crawl gave the
impression
of knowing. As if his glasses gave him x-ray vision. As if all her secrets were stripped bare.
"Mr Gregory, before we begin looking through your accounts, I really need to take a trip to the little girls' room--"
"Oh, that can wait, I think Melanie. We have something urgent to discuss. You see, I've already looked through my account paperwork. Very interesting what I found there too."
He stood and stepped over to Mel. The way he was looking at her made her stomach churn. He raised one hand and cupped her cheek, unprofessionally close.
"Did you really think you could get away with it?" He whispered, saccharine-sweet. "My money? Embezzled in your own investments?"
Mel's heart sank like a stone. "You tried to hide it, I could see. And you did it quite well. But not well enough; you're not quite as clever as you think you are. I suppose this is what Maurice has over you?"
Mel opened her mouth but no words would come. She just nodded.
"I should tell your CEO right now, save him some money on this consultant. I should call the police. But I'm not going to. I can hide it, better than you could. But I need something from you Melanie."
"W-what?" Mel asked, but she already knew.
"Your mouth." He rested his thick black thumb on the top of Mel's lower lip, pushing just the tip inside her mouth. "Your pussy. Your sweet little pink asshole I've already split open once. Nothing you haven't already given me Mel. I've been thinking about you for the last two days. About how I opened your ass like a peach. It was incredible Melanie. Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about me too."
I have. In disgust. In humiliation.
Mel said nothing.
Mr Gregory took her by the hand and led her around the huge desk that came up to waist-height, to the chair behind it. He gestured at the stack of paperwork upon the desk. "See this, Mel? I need to fix this before this consultant arrives. But I work better relaxed. You know what would relax me? Your sweet lips wrapped around my big, black cock."
He was fumbling at the fly of his suit pants. Mel looked aghast.
She couldn't, not here.
She looked around at the office door: closed, but unlocked. Anyone could walk in at any time.
He saw where she was looking. "That's right Melanie. You'll need to do this surreptitiously. Under the desk, I think. That will allow me to work while you work. You'll be
contributing
." He tittered.
He grabbed an handful of Mel's blonde curls, already tousled from her lunchtime activity, and pulled her down onto her knees. Mel didn't resist. What choice did she have? She sunk down in front of Mr Gregory for the second time that week.
He pulled out his cock. He was only half erect - like many older men he required some warming up. With one hand in her hair he steered her under the desk, then sat down in his chair and pulled it up to a working position. He guided Mel's head down into his lap.
Mel kissed at the tip of his penis. No matter how disgusting she found Mr Gregory, he did have a good cock. Not as all-around enormous as Maurice, not the girth monster held by the tattoo artist she had just visited. But it was thick and heavy and dark. She swirled her tongue around the rim of his head and felt it hardening under her touch. Did she - did she
like it?
She took his head inside her mouth and tasted a small bead of pre-cum seep from him.
"Ohhhh, good girl, Melanie," she heard his unctuous voice whisper from above, "you like that don't you? Been dreaming about sucking my old black cock since the day your daddy introduced us when you were eighteen. Been wondering what a real businessman's cock tastes like."
No! No, I haven't!
Mel thought desperately, but it didn't matter. He pushed his cock forward into her throat as if she had and she swallowed it whole like the finest oyster. Deep down, a part of her began to wonder.
Had
she wanted this for years, in a place she would never admit to herself? Had he seen it in her all along, just biding his time until he could draw it out of her?
He was the one she had gone to when she had started at the company, he was the first new client she had brought in. She admired his business acumen. She found him impressive. Strong, in a way. But that didn't mean...
Mr Gregory pushed his cock deeper down her throat, testing her gag reflex.
"Agkkk."
He tittered again. "You need to be quiet with that, Mel. You don't want anyone hearing." Mel was mortified.
Could they?
Her boss's office was just next door. How thick were the walls?
Oblivious to, or perhaps
because of
her concerns about making noise, Mr Gregory began fucking her face, pushing her head down on him with his hand in her hair. Her throat worked desperately, trying not to release another choking sound, until saliva streamed from her mouth around his shaft and tears dribbled from her eyes.
He steered her head back and forth over his length until they found a rhythm together. Then he released her; Mel continued the same rhythm all by herself, polishing his now rock-hard cock up and down with her mouth. She heard the sound of scribbling. Mr Gregory appeared to actually be working while she serviced him under the desk.
The minutes ticked by. Mel licked and sucked and swallowed. Her jaw ached. Fifteen minutes went by, then half an hour. Her jaw was on fire. Mr Gregory was still hard, still leaking pre-cum into her mouth, but he didn't seem any closer to orgasm.
How had he not cum yet?
Was his work above the desk distracting him? Or did he have better control over his orgasm than that - deliberately dragging things out to maximize her discomfort?
Finally, after what felt like over an hour, she heard a tiny groan from him. He began raising his hips in time with her mouth, thrusting into her. Mel sucked with renewed gusto. She needed to make him cum so she could get out of here. Needed to--
Knock knock.
