Work For It

She woke up groggy, her mind reeling from whatever drug had knocked her out. She was sitting in a computer chair in an office, or at least she thought so. The room was still spinning.

Her blouse had been unbuttoned and hung loose and open as she slumped in the chair.

She gasped as suddenly she was picked up by the waist and bent over the desk in front of her, oddly void of any computer equipment or anything at all. She felt her shirt being pulled over her head and tightening around her wrists.

A man came into her vision, blurrily walking around to the other side of the desk and doing something with her shirt. She tried to lean up, but her hands stayed stationary, held in place by her blouse. She let out a weak whine as she tugged meekly at her restraints.

She remembered the man, but when she looked up to find him, he was gone. She felt the clasp of her bra being undone and realized the man was behind her, his hands lifting the bra over her shoulders to be left in a clump with her shirt. His hands ran down her arms slowly and settled on her breasts, squeezing and fondling her playfully. His rough fingers brushed and pulled her nipples as they hardened.

Then his hands were gone for a moment, but she felt her ankles being moved and fastened to the legs of the desk with what must be handcuffs, her legs spread apart far wider than she would have liked.

The hands ran up from her ankles, up her legs and her thighs, pushing up her pinstripe skirt. It stopped above her hips, surely revealing her thigh-high pantyhose and black thong. The hands stroked her legs, her inner thighs, her ass. Her thong snapped against her bare skin, stinging, then she felt it being pulled down to her knees.

She felt so exposed, so helpless. She couldn't even move. What was going on? Who was doing this to her and why?

These thoughts came to an abrupt halt as three fingers plunged into her from behind, making her cry out. She didn't realize how wet she had gotten until the fingers started sliding in and out with ease. It felt good, even though she didn't want it to. She was being taken advantage of, but it was turning her on like nothing ever had before. She didn't understand.

The fingers pulled out and began to massage and stroke her, moving in slow, deliberate circles. She felt herself moan unexpectedly. Then she felt what must be a tongue push into her, exploring her inside and out. The combined efforts of the tongue and hand soon had her very close to orgasming. However, right before she did, they stopped simultaneously.

She moaned angrily, hungry for more. She got exactly that. A very long, very thick penis thrust its way inside her painfully, filling her up. It slid in and out and in and out quickly and roughly. She was spanked hard and gasped at the sting. Her loins ached with urgency.

This was more fun than anything anyone had ever done to her. The sheer power he had over her drove her over the edge. She moaned loudly as he rode her deliberately hard and painfully.

She felt a hand slide around her hips to the front and start stroking her clit, the stimulations making her eyes close in pleasure.

Suddenly, she felt pain and pressure and opened her eyes to see that a clip had been placed on her right nipple and another was being placed on her left. It hurt so badly, but it felt so good. The hand not pleasuring her tugged hard on the clips, causing more mixed pain and pleasure.

The pressure had been building up and she finally exploded, coming as she screamed and moaned all at once. The rock-hard penis inside her kept thrusting, slowing steadily as she moaned in ecstasy. It remained inside of her as she lay, breathing roughly, on the desk.

She woke up what must have been several hours later because the windows were dark; all the lights except for the one in the room she was in were off. She was seated in her office and had been leaning on her keyboard. Had it all been some sort of fantasy? Was it just some dream?

The ache in her loins suggested otherwise, but she had no proof, except for something that caught her eye on the floor by her desk; something that looked suspiciously like a pair of handcuffs...