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Chapter 2
As the clock on the wall was ticking on the last minute of the hour, I stood up from my desk with some confidence. I’d managed to use the last few hours work up some nerve, and was looking into the glass of Wendy’s office. I couldn’t see in, as she had the blinds down and I had no idea if she was casually working behind them, or actually waiting for my arrival, but I decided I didn’t care. I began walking towards her open door with purpose and determination, and began to speak as soon as I was inside. I’m not really sure what I said, but she quickly cut me off speaking very loudly and seriously,
“I’m working at the moment, and I can’t have you disturb me with personal matters. I’m going to have to ask you to please wait for me to finish before I get to you.”
I didn’t want to be silenced by her, while I still had a head full of steam, but looking out the door, I could see a few co-workers looking curiously at me as her voice drew their attention. When I looked back at Miss Heartman, she had a sinister smile on her face while she went back to her computer. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself in this situation, so I closed the door to try and hide myself from the cold stare of my peers.
Again, I found myself standing awkwardly in front of her desk while she ignored me. I didn’t want to risk another loud confrontation, as I’m sure people were already a bit iffy about me. Eventually she stood up, still not looking at me, and walked as though she was going to leave the office. As she passed me, I quickly felt her grab and twist a handful of my hair and pull me down into a bowing position. Before I understood what was going on and though to resist I felt my chest tense hard as she kicked me in the gut. It was so unexpected that it easily winded me, making me drop to my knees as I tried to catch my breath.
I didn’t get the chance to stay so comfortable though, as she dug her heeled boot into the back of my neck and shifted her weight to push my face into the ground. The heel dug in painfully, so if I tried to fight her it would just dig in more. My arms could only hold the floor while I was still trying to catch my breath. Any thoughts I had were quickly dissolved by her voice as she leaned over to speak back to me.
“Listen to me very carefully. You are my slave. It’s not something you can help, stop or debate. It is the way it is. If you try to stop me, I’ll scream right now, and have you sent to jail for attempted rape and assault.
“Further more, as my slave, you have no right to talk to me, or even think to talk to me in that manner. I was going to use that nice cock of yours to get off, but now I have to punish you instead. Bad boys don’t get such wonderful rewards. Strip and get back onto the position on your knees.”
She walked back behind her desk, letting me rise up to my knees just in time to watch her walk away. I noticed that she’d changed since lunch, as she was now wearing black leather boots that disappeared under her skirt. And she peeled her skirt away to show black lingerie she wore underneath, also showing that the boots were knee-high. She began unbuttoning her blouse before she looked back at me an almost shouted, “What are you doing?” I didn’t know what she meant for a moment. But my mind worked it out very quickly. She was ordering me to undress again, only she shouted it loudly and in that way to make anyone within an earshot worry or wonder. It was something of a threat, and one I responded to strongly as I started to remove my clothes. She gave me an arrogant smile, which I returned with an angry look.
Once she pulled the rest of her blouse off, I found out she was wearing a corset. It started above her hips, and tightly outlined her body until eventually stopping to cup the underside of her breasts, holding them up and showing them off. I was stunned to see her, but was broken out of my inactive state as she rummaged through the drawer of her desk and threw three black leather rings at me. I stopped to look at them and discover two were leather cuffs and the third was a collar. Each had either pelican clips or d-rings hanging off.
I was so lost in inspecting the strange gear, I didn’t even notice that Miss Heartman had put on two long leather gloves and approached me. I looked up just in time to find her heeled boot press against my chest. Again she shifted her weight to drop me to the ground onto my back. She didn’t weigh much, but the point of her heel digging into my chest was painful enough to keep me down. She looked at as she leaned in onto me a bit heavier and said, “Put them on.” Her weight on me increased, as I didn’t move, prompting me to do what she said. It was a bit awkward to adjust the straps with one hand, but I managed to make due, although that success wasn’t going to buy me anything. As soon as the cuffs were secure she asked me “Why are you still wearing pants? Didn’t I tell you to strip?” Before I could answer she moved one of my hands, and clipped the cuff to the collar. She began twisting her heel painfully into my chest, prompting me to continue my stripping efforts.
It was strange, but I did what she wanted. Lying on my back with her weight pinning down my chest, and with only one arm usable, I managed to squirm out of my pants while she simply looked down at me with her cold, judging eyes. Somehow, just her look managed to emphasize just how naked and on-display I was. I still had my underwear on, but it didn’t provide me with any protection from her glances.
Before I could finish stripping and removed the last bit of covering I had on, she grabbed my free arm and clipped it onto the collar as well. She ordered me to “Stand up,” just before she took her foot off of me to allow me to comply. With both my arms bound to my neck, standing up wasn’t as intuitive as it should have been. I had to roll over onto my stomach, wiggle myself onto my knees from an awkward position, and eventually balance my weight back and fourth until I was able to get back to my feet. All the while her icy stare was watching me make a fool of myself.
Again, she shattered any sense of accomplishment I may have felt as soon as I succeeded by roughly grabbing my sac through the thin material of my underwear. The pain from the grab was light, but it was enough to remind me just how vulnerable I was. She silently toyed with my gentiles, squeezing my balls and shaft before giving a few light smacks to the area with the back of her hand. She ordered me to “Turn around,” and again I could do nothing but comply. As soon as I was facing away from her, her hands began to go to work. One would stroke my chest, stomach and shoulders while the other was focused completely on either smacking or roughly groping my ass. I wasn’t aware of it, but I was blushing quite hard as she inspected me so outright, toying with my body and reminding me that I had no say in the matter. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was just such a feeling of powerlessness.
Eventually, she was finished with her groping and ordered me to turn around again. This time, she reached down and pulled my underwear down. Leaving me completely naked and renewing that feeling of openness once again. She gave me shaft, which was now fairly stiff with involuntary arousal, a light stroke with a small laugh. Without a word, she walked behind me, and gave me a sudden, harsh shove. Trying to keep my balance, I staggered forward before my thighs crashed into her desk, making me fall over onto it. Before I could try to stand up she approached me from behind. Again she was groping my ass although this position, bent over her desk, was so much more embarrassing. She told me to “Stay,” which again reminded me of an owner commanding a dog, and I did since I could feel how vulnerable I was to her. I wasn’t about to get her angry while I was bound and bent over her desk like this.
She walked around her desk and retrieved a long rope. I wasn’t sure what she planned to do with it, but it was slowly unveiled to me as she configured my cuffs so they were attached to each other in front of me. She tied the rope to the connecting point of the cuffs and pulled it under her desk. After walking around behind me, she began slapping one of my thighs hard and often while she simply said “Open.” I got the idea and spread my legs to try and appease her slaps. Eventually I was open enough, and she fastened my ankle to the leg of her desk. She repeated the slapping and securing of my second leg, leaving me bound open over her desk.
She once again fiddled through her desk drawer, but I couldn’t see what she was up to. All she allowed me to know was what she began to say, “I think the problem you have is that you’re still in the wrong mind-set about our little arrangement. Boys like you are so used to the old notions of the man being in charge in a relationship. So you have to learn how to properly respect the power of women. This is my office, and you’re my employee. I’m the boss, I’m the one calling the shots, and you’re my hot little secretary who I’m fucking on the side. But of course words are wasted on boys like you, who are too set in your ways to understand. Actions speak louder than words, so I’ll have to teach you that you’re my bitch.”
While I was trying to figure out just what she had in mind, I soon got the idea as I felt a cold wet, dull object goose my spread-open ass. All at once, I realized that she was wearing a strap-on, as her hands held my waist and she pulled her hips in. I could feel the dildo pushing up and forcing its way into me. It was lubricated fairly well, so there was no way I could resist it. I tried the only thing I could do,
“Please wait. I didn’t do anything. Stop. I don’t want-“ She cut me off with a harsh slap to my face.
“Shut up bitch. You should be thanking me for the honor of getting fucked by me. The only sounds I want to hear from you are your moans and whimpers. If you keep whining I’m going to seriously punish you. And trust me, this isn’t anything near what I consider punishment.”
Even as she said that, to emphasize her point, she gave a rough buck of her hips, pushing the full length of her strap on into me, making me groan loudly as she did. She started to pull her hips back for several inches before she thrust hard into me again. I tried to break free to protect myself from this violation, but the bonds were effective at keeping me restrained and at her mercy. She gave me a few more of the rough thrusts before she was content that I had shut up. She “rewarded” me by slowing herself down a bit, establishing a smoother rhythm. Compared to the rough treatment, her new pace was almost pleasant. It was still extremely uncomfortable in every way, but at least now it was bearable.
I guess my groans had quieted down, since she started slapping my ass and asking, “Aww, is that better sweetie? Do you like that?” I was both too ashamed, and too angry to answer, but she kept slapping my ass harder and faster until I answered, “Yes.” She slapped my ass even harder now as her voice took on a commanding tone instead of its patronizing one, “You mean ‘Yes, I love it Miss Heartman.’” She gave me a few rough thrusts again, prompting me to answer her again. I spitefully said, “Yes, I love it Miss Heartman,” but she didn’t accept that. Her rough thrusts continued as she said, “I can’t hear you.” I said it again louder, groaning before I did. I objected to her toying with me, but there was nothing I could do but comply. I had to obey her and do it well if I wanted any kind of relief from her torment.
Soon, her rhythm became smoother once again, although her pace was speeding up. I could tell from the way my moans were the only ones in the room that she was started to get off on this. My own tight ass was starting to relax from the massaging grind of the strap-on. It toyed with my body’s pleasure despite how much I resented the position I was in. Her excitement was growing, which mean trouble for me. Her nails began to dig into my waist and her thrusts were growing more erratic. Although with the adrenaline she’d worked up in me, it all translated into more pleasure and the pain was too dull to notice. My body was even reacting to her, moving to try and accommodate her thrusts and make it less rough of myself. It was basically as though my body was fucking her back as she thrust into me.
Her moans had been growing with her pace, and she was now furiously thrusting into me, keeping me on the very threshold of discomfort and pleasure. She was clearly well into the pleasure, as she was nearly screaming as she began grinding her pelvis against my ass. I could tell that she was cumming, as she let out a long tense moan followed by a slow recovery pace of her thrusting as she cooled down. She eventually pulled out, leaving me heated and unfulfilled. While she caught her breath, she patted my ass saying, “Good boy.” I couldn’t see what she was doing behind me, and I couldn’t hear her over the sound of my own panting breaths and pumping blood in my ears.
The next sign I saw of her was when she went back to her desk drawer. She replaced her strap-on inside, and pulled out something else. I quickly found out it was a butt-plug as she began working it into my tired and warmed up ass. Needless to say, I felt quite “full” again especially since this plug was wider than the strap-on. But it was also strange, as it seemed to have something hanging off of it, like a tail. She walked around the room a bit, leaving me to try and get used to the strange sensations that were flowing through my body. When I saw her again, she was holding my clothes, and locked them in a drawer. It occurred to me that without them I was effectively trapped in this office. She knew that too, as she felt comfortable undoing my bonds and letting me free. But she wasn’t finished amusing herself with me just yet.
She attached a leash to the center clip of my collar and ordered me to get on my hands and knees. I was fairly desperate to get my clothes back so I obeyed her without question. She began to give me another demeaning speech, “Of course fucking you like a bitch isn’t really enough. Boys like you can be really dense at times, so I have to make sure you get the message. A real bitch is a lowly creature that humiliates itself for its owner’s amusement. Performing tricks and begging for affection are what separates a bottom from a bitch. So, let’s see you perform.”
She pulled the leash, and began walking me around the room on my hands and knees. I was still somewhat dazed from the adrenaline rush and the heavy arousal, so I was fairly willing to comply with anything she wanted at this point. She had me perform tricks for her, things like sitting, going to her, rolling over, begging for pat on the head and the like. It was all very humiliating but I complied because I’d accepted my situation. Only if I was a “good boy” and kept her happy would I get away from this horrible game. But I was performing under a false notion.
She led me under her desk, where I was surprised to see an interesting arrangement. There were several bars that seemed out of place, as well as a dog bed place under there. I didn’t really know what to expect, but started piecing it together as she tied the leash off to one of the bars, and then cuffed my hands around another above the bed. I was basically bound in such a position that I was trapped under her desk. I thought it was another humiliation trick, but she then patted my head and said, “Good night. Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another big day for you.” I thought she was joking, as she disappeared. I heard the ruffling sounds of material, which I assumed was her getting dressed. Then the lights went out and the door to her office closed and locked. By the time I realized that I was stuck there for the rest of the night, I was hopelessly trapped in the situation. I couldn’t call for help, since I was naked and tied up under her desk, and who knows what would happen if I was discovered there. I fought against the restraints a few times before I gave up completely. I wanted to try and figure some way out of this, but as the adrenaline was settling down, I started to realize just how exhausted she’d made me over the day. Before I could get my mind focused on an escape plan, I actually began to nod off. I was screwed.