Office Slut Pt 13

My wrists were chained together above my head. I felt cool tile against the tips of my toes, the only part of me that could touch the floor. I had no clothes on, and the air around me was chilly. I heard the door creak open, and footsteps followed. I felt goosebumps rise on my skin.

When I left the office on Friday, I felt like someone was following me to my car in the parking garage. I rushed to my car, but then I noticed a note on my windshield that caused me to hesitate for only a moment.

As I reached for the note, a sack flew over my head, and strong arms wrapped around me from behind, picking me off the ground like I was nothing. Before I had time to process what was happening, I was thrown into a car that I felt quickly wheeled away.

Since then, I have been in this room. At least, I assumed it was a room. But I know nothing else because this stupid sack has remained on my head the whole time, and whoever took me from the parking garage was very tight-lipped, no matter how many questions I asked. So, I have no information other than the fact that I have been kidnapped.

Even though I was 95% sure the person whose footsteps I heard enter the room were Mr. Ryan's, I was still on edge. Mr. Ryan betrayed me to Mr. George and helped him arrange my kidnapping. For what? A better position in the company? Money? Whatever the reason, I did not trust him.

The sack was unceremoniously ripped from my head, and my vision was flooded with sharp, fluorescent light. I blinked furiously as my eyes adjusted to the sudden change. Mr. Ryan slowly came into view.

I saw his curly, dark hair and olive skin that glistened in the light. He was wearing all-black clothes with a gold watch and chain necklace. As much as I wanted to hate him, my pussy pulsed as I took him in.

"Well, well, well, slut, we meet again," Mr. Ryan's voice cuts through the silence of the room. His voice was laced with anger, although I had no idea what he had to be angry at me about.

"You've been a very bad slut, haven't you?" Mr. Ryan asked me.

He acted as if I hadn't been strung up in this room for hours, worried about where I was and who had taken me. I ignored him, not satisfying him with an answer.

"Aw, is that really how you're going to treat me? How disappointing."

I continued to stonewall him, and he walked to the back of the small room so I could no longer see him. I tried to remain calm as I heard the sound of more chains.

Mr. Ryan circled back to the front of me before he began to pinch my nipples. A gasp escaped my lips without my permission. Mr. Ryan raised an eyebrow at me, and I blushed.

"I know you like it whore; it's okay to accept it. It's just me."

Mr. Ryan quickly pulled out nipple clamps from his pocket and snapped them into place, sending a sharp shock of electricity through my body. He smirked as I shuddered, helpless under his hands. He gently caressed my body, but his brown eyes were cold. Sporadically, his fingers would tug on the chain connecting the clamps.

His hands left my body in a rush, and to my surprise, he unchained me. Then, Mr. Ryan collared me flippantly, like I was nothing to him. He attached a leash to the collar and told me to get on my hands and knees.

Mr. Ryan led me through the dimly lit hallways that seemed to last forever. My nipples ached from the clamps, and the chain annoyingly clanked as I crawled after Mr. Ryan. The house reminded me of one almost impossible maze to escape. I have been to Mr. Ryan's house before but never seen this part. Finally, when my knees started hurting from the crawling, Mr. Ryan turned a doorknob to one of the many rooms lining the hallway.

I entered the room after Mr. Ryan, who was gripping my leash very tightly. It looked like an old parlor, with chairs and tables littering the floor. It was hardly lit, with only a few dim lights lining the maroon walls.

I was even more confused than when chained up in the dungeon.

My mind still raced with questions to ask Mr. Ryan, but he felt distant. He seemed to act as if we hadn't spent a whole week together. It made me feel like I didn't know him at all.

Mr. Ryan unleashed me and ordered me to stand. As I rose to my feet, my knees were thankful for the relief. Mr. Ryan harshly ripped the nipple clamps from my body, and I almost fell to the ground from the pain of it. Blood quickly rushed to them, and it felt like they were pulsing.

"Bend over that table," Mr. Ryan ordered, and I obeyed. Bending over tables has become second nature to me during my time as an Office Slut, and my pussy was happily awaiting some long-needed attention. My raw nipples sent shots of pain through my body with even the slightest movement.

I heard Mr. Ryan unzip his pants, and I couldn't help myself. I excitedly leaned heavily into his dick, thinking that I was finally going to get fucked. Feeling the tip of his head against my wetness drove me crazy, and I whimpered helplessly as Mr. Ryan continued to tease my pussy with his tip. After a long week with no attention, my pussy was desperate for Mr. Ryan's cock.

But, much to my surprise and disappointment, his dick began to wander to my asshole, and he began to rub my wetness around it. I stiffened, unsure of what Mr. Ryan was planning.

Although I wasn't an anal virgin, I had only done it a handful of times in the past. The last time was with my ex-boyfriend, who recently dumped me and ruined my life. He begged me our whole relationship to have anal sex with him, and when I finally caved on his birthday, he plowed into me with hardly any lube. It was so painful I vowed never to have anal sex again.

"Relax," Mr. Ryan purred as he stroked my back, sensing my distress. But his sudden tenderness towards me only worried me further. I felt a cool, oily liquid against my asshole and tried to wiggle away from Mr. Ryan's touch.

He slapped my ass and said, "Be still, or I'll chain you up bitch," The brief moment of tenderness he showed earlier seemed to have disappeared entirely.

I tried to remain still as Mr. Ryan lubed my asshole. But it was hard. I continued to wiggle away, and Mr. Ryan followed through with his threat to chain me up. My wrists were tied tightly together in front of me, and my ankles had a similar fate. Unlike my weasel ex-boyfriend, I soothed myself with the thought that Mr. Ryan knew what he was doing.

I was entirely at Mr. Ryan's mercy. He seemed to enjoy my whimpering noises as he teased my asshole by pushing his tip in, pausing, and then roughly pulling out. Now and then, he slid his dick through my pussy juices again, and I had to press my thighs together to keep myself from cumming.

I knew if I came again without permission, my punishment would never end. So, despite my instinct to release myself as soon as Mr. Ryan touches me with his dick, I resist.

"I need you to be a good girl, okay?" Mr. Ryan tells me.

"Yes, sir," I respond, trying to brace myself for what's to come.

Mr. Ryan begins to push his massive cock into my tight asshole. It feels like he's ripping me in half with his dick. I think I am screaming, but it hurts too much to know for sure. However, it still hurt significantly less than the last time I tried anal.

After an agonizing moment, Mr. Ryan's voice rips through my pain. "I'm in baby, just breathe," he says. Once again tender, he gently pets my back. I do what he says and breathe, trying to adjust to his size.

After a few breaths, the sharp edge of pain has subsided, and a feeling of aching fullness replaces it. Mr. Ryan stays deep in me for a while, letting my body recover. I begin to like the feeling of fullness. I feel oddly close to Mr. Ryan, with his dick deep inside me and his hand stroking my back.

He slowly starts to pull out of my hole--inch by inch. I feel a brief moment of relief before he fills me again. He begins to pump into me once my hole has adjusted to his size. My pussy is dripping down my legs, but Mr. Ryan has paid it no attention other than to help him lube my asshole.

Without warning, Mr. Ryan lets out a roar and explodes into me. I envy his orgasm, close my eyes, and pretend like it's mine. Quickly, Mr. Ryan plugs my ass with a buttplug that he pulls from his pocket. I look at him with confusion.

"You're to keep my cum in your ass until you get home slut," Mr. Ryan says to me.

I am in shock as he quickly unties my wrists and ankles. He grabs some clothes from a cabinet in the corner. They're in my hand before I realize they're the same clothes I wore to the office on Friday.

During my uncomfortable drive home, I shift whenever my foot presses a peddle. My skirt feels wet, but I can't tell if it's from my desperate pussy or Mr. Ryan's cum leaking from my ass.

I wait until I am in the shower at home to unplug myself, like the good slut I am. I watch as Mr. Ryan's cum blends into the water and sinks into the drain, and I wonder if Mr. George will ever let me cum again.