Descent Ch. 03

The Games Begin

Jen was sat on the office floor, her legs were spread wide apart, her pussy lips held open by her long painted fingernails. It was just over a week since she had been presented naked to the world at her Mistress’ office window. That woman was before her now. Wearing a tight grey business skirt, with a modest slit up one side, and fashionable pointy half-high heeled shoes. Today she had her hair styled in cascading waves that tumbled like loose springs against her clean cut white shirt which pulled taught about her breasts. This woman’s looks alone would have won her many business deals.

The woman swung her putter, striking the golf ball, which sped across the wood panelled flooring. It sounded like a drum roll as it trundled towards Jen; her eyes followed it to the last moment, when she shut them in anticipation of the blow. It struck her just to the right of her pussy and ricocheted across to her other thigh, before slowly rolling back out of the corral formed by her outstretched legs.

“Shit” hissed her Mistress as she gathered another golf ball to her.

It was currently her Mistress’ pleasure to practice her golf putting. What better target to aim for, she had reasoned, than Jen’s nearly always-expectant hole. ‘Now, if only you were 18!” she had joked, as she stuck a small flag in Jen’s blonde hair.

For Jen this was just another humiliating act that she had been made to perform in the last few days. Over the last week she had regularly been summoned to the Woman’s office at all times of the day or evening. Some strings had clearly been pulled because Jen’s boss seemed aware that she might be called away from her desk for ‘administrative duties’.

Ddddrrrrrr, another ball approached. This bounced just as it was approaching her gaping slit. It hit the flesh covering her clit and bounced away.

“Aawww, so close!” exclaimed her Mistress, stamping her delicate shoes into the wooden floor.

Jen let out a small gasp. As far as she was concerned it had been spot on. The strike to her clit had now left it throbbing. She wanted so much to rub it. Each time Jen was summoned to the office she was made to strip either naked or down to her underwear. Her Mistress might then examine her to make sure she was keeping in good condition, or punish her for some misdemeanour spotted through the security video cameras. She would be made to fetch and carry for her Mistress, crawling on all fours.

Regularly she would be given the opportunity to improve her tongue and mouth skills to pleasure her Mistress. Rarely she would be allowed to masturbate herself to orgasm, when she did it was always as a show for her Mistress. She craved these acts for the release they gave her, but they reinforced her growing self-image as a dirty little slut desperate for sexual release.

These actions tipped further the balance of power between the two. In Jen’s mind she was becoming not so much a submissive doing as she was told, but a slave trying desperately to please her Mistress. Each day her life had steadily been taken more and more under control. She felt as though she were orbiting a greater life force unable to avoid the blinding attraction, like a moth to a bulb. Often with painful results that may – briefly – leave her questioning what she was doing, repelling her. But not for long before she was drawn back once more by the indefinable magnetic power.

Clack, this time the strike had skipped the ball up into the air. Jen watched its low arc across the floor in front of her. She knew where it was going to land even before it slapped directly into her pussy. It was a perfect shot and her pussy lips were tugged out from under her nails as they wrapped wetly around the ball.

“Woohoo! Yeah! Yes, yes, yes” Her Mistress skipped around, punching the air with her fist.

The physical sensation wasn’t so much the turn on for Jen as the situation itself. The idea that she was being stimulated in this way; sitting naked on this office floor, waiting patiently for golf balls to rain down on her pussy. This act saw her being exposed and vulnerable – what if someone should walk in – and at the same time treated as an object, a plaything. And no matter how much she tried to hide from it, the voices in her head, and if not there in her pussy, reminded her how much she loved being a plaything.

The ball plopped back out. The wetness that now covered half of it stopped it rolling very far.

“Clean it up” Her Mistress instructed.

Jen picked up the ball and began to lick her juices from its surface, her eyes demurely looking up at her Mistress, seeking approval. There was another thing that she couldn’t deny as her tongue circled the ball in much the same way she circled this radiant life force, stronger than her. She was orbiting in ever decreasing circles. She was being drawn in more and more. She suspected that she would bounce off less and less, would question less and less, until eventually, she wouldn’t reject anything at all.

Once the ball was clean of her juices she rolled it back towards her Mistress, who stopped it with her foot and stood watching Jen. Jen blushed and held her pussy lips apart once more. She knew that she was leaking onto the floorboards.

Her Mistress had been shaping up to take another shot, but then stood up thoughtfully. She made her way over to Jen, holding the club grip between thumb and little finger. Swinging it gently like a pendulum.

“Who are you?” she asked Jen as she approached.

“Your slut Mistress” responded Jen

The woman now stood over Jen, the club gently swinging, the small end of its head now patting into Jen’s open pussy.

“Look at me.” Jen kept facing down as much as possible, looking up only with her eyes.

She guessed that this would make her look puppy-like. Cute, and vulnerable; she hoped it would warm her Mistress’ heart. Submitting to another’s will had not made her witless. She was not absent of cunning. But she knew that she had to be far subtler, she would need to play by the rules. She could still attempt to affect the things that happened to her, but she would never now make the actual decisions. She had effectively handed over her fate to this Woman. Her only recourse now was to appeal to the woman who commanded her, in a hope to win compassion.

The woman now pressed the tip of the club a little into Jen’s pussy. The cold hard metal felt alien. But just like every other time this woman had introduced new sensations to Jen she was captivated by them. Shivers on the surface, warmth deep inside.

Her Mistress reached down and cupped one of Jen’s breasts in her hand. She bounced it lightly, as though judging its weight. Her Mistress’ eyes looked deep into hers and not for the first time Jen wondered if this woman had the power to read minds.

“You belong to me.”

“Yes Mistress”

Jen sucked air in as the club was pushed further inside her. The cold hard metal being pushed inside made her think of medical checks she had had. Whether this thought triggered the idea that she was being examined or the other way around she was not sure. But the metal intrusion, the weighing of her breast and the perceptive look from her Mistress all served to build the impression that she was being explored and she was being revealed.

“You’re a whore” her Mistress spat.

Jen broke eye contact, the club was pushed hard inside her and her Mistress pinched her nipple tightly. She gave a yelp and quickly looked back up at her Mistress, the blood flushing her cheeks.

“Yes Mistress” she quickly responded.

Her Mistress laughed, easing her grip on the nipple and starting to push the club in and out of Jen’s cunt. It seemed to be gliding quite easily.

“No,” she said “You’re not a robot for me. I can still shock you, which means your mind is still ticking, still questioning what you are doing. I like that.” She moved the club around, exploring the walls of Jen’s womb. Her hand moved up slowly to Jens neck, the fingers lightly tracing the path across Jen’s breasts.

“ It means you can still be shamed, and it would be terribly dull if that were not the case.” Her hand now lifted Jen’s face.

Jen’s breathing was increasing. The movement of the club in her pussy was starting to feel incredibly good, if only she could get the handle against her clit a little more. How did this woman manage to make her feel like this? The Woman had lowered her face towards Jen’s.

“Look how much you’re blushing.” she teased. “You’re blushing because you’re sat here, fucking a golf club and loving it!” the woman was almost laughing at Jen.

“And that’s what’s so great,” continued the woman in a that’s-all-right-then tone. Jen was almost panting now. She was still holding her pussy lips open, shaking at the hips, willing the club to be pushed into her harder, just so long as the handle made contact with her throbbing nub.

“There’s enough girl in there,” said her Mistress, still gazing deep into Jen’s eyes, “to see the slut, and be completely embarrassed.” She ran her hand through Jen’s hair, gripping it at the back. Jen’s whole body was shaking now, from the movement of the club, from her own movement. But her head was held steady, her hair gripped by her Mistress.

“Mmmm,” said her Mistress, her eyes half closing, watching Jen with a simmering look. Those eyes devoured Jen, her panting mouth, her red cheeks and her wide eyes. “And I love that.”

She leant forward and kissed Jen forcefully on the mouth. The experience was extraordinary for Jen. Her Mistress’ tongue pushed inside her, the slight taste of lipstick, the smell of skin mixed with perfume. Jen began to moan uncontrollably into her Mistress’ mouth and realised that she was having an orgasm. This kiss had been enough to throw her over, this unexpected, passionate demand had given her an overwhelming sense of being desired which had pushed her over the edge and her muffled groans were now emerging from their locked mouths.

The moment ended, their mouths parted. Her Mistress smiled at her, and then stood up, turned around and walked away, leaving Jen panting on the floor, her heart still racing. For this moth, all other light bulbs had gone out. There was only one centre to her universe.

She heard her Mistress’ voice come back from across the room, “You will be punished for cuming without permission.”

The Servant

Jen was pushing a tea trolley through the sales department of one of the companies based in the office where she worked. That morning she had been instructed to wear knee high black socks and a tight black skirt. The material was silky and there was a matching black blouse. Beneath the black blouse she wore a white corset. She had been told to make sure it was done up tightly and it now squeezed her waist. It laced at the front as well as the back, pulling the front together pulled her breasts in, leaving two bulging mounds poking out at the front.

During the day she had received a call from her Mistress, giving her instructions to deliver tea, coffee and biscuits to a meeting room on the fifth floor. Now that she was pushing the trolley she realised that the outfit she had been instructed to wear could be described as Maid-like. She had been told that she was to behave well for the people at the meeting and do as she was told.

One of the instructions that she had signed up to when she had agreed to submit to her Mistress was that if bending over for something, it should always be from the waist, not the knees. Bending at the waist to push the trolley left her in a provocative position considering the outfit she was wearing. The alpha-males populating the sales team in the open plan office confirmed this by showing her plenty of attention. The comments made from unseen jokers made her cringe as she slowly made her way across the floor. She knew she was asking for it, her arse stuck out in the tight figure-hugging skirt and her breasts almost ready to fall out onto the cups and saucers in front of her.

Finally she reached the room and knocked. There was no response. She waited a while, feeling several dozen eyes undressing her. She nervously adjusted her skirt and knocked again.

“Yes, yes, come in” a voice said impatiently.

‘oops’ she thought as she pushed the door open and wheeled the trolley in. In the room there were three men dressed in suits. They were classic businessmen – waistlines expanding as rapidly as their hairlines were receding. They were sat on easy chairs arranged around a projector display and a flip chart. Standing in front presenting a slide was a much younger man. He was dressed sharply in a well-cut suit and as Jen made her way in he continue to present to the others with an air of confidence.

“…and that’s why your investment money is so important to us.”

Jen quietly wheeled the trolley to the table set against the far wall of the meeting room.

“ It’s so important that we want to make sure you are entirely happy with the products we are producing, but perhaps what would be more exciting for you is to see some of the products that we have currently in development.”

Jen began to lift the trays of cups and biscuits onto the table.

“And as you know, we have a philosophy here that we will only treat the customer right if we treat ourselves right. Gentlemen, our refreshments have arrived.”

With that the man made his way towards Jen, the other men turned in their seats to follow his progress. Jen couldn’t help but notice one or two of them exchange glances as she came into their field of vision.

“I am sure,” continued the young man to the others over his shoulder, “that you have heard rumours of the hospitality we offer in our off shore locations.”

Then to Jen, “What is your name young lady?”

“Jen Sir.” She had not been instructed to refer to anyone as sir, but her nervous disposition had once more brought out her humble nature.

“Jen here, is a fine example of our hospitality staff.”

This took Jen by surprise, ‘Am I?’ she thought. As far as she knew the company on this floor had nothing to do with the building management, who were after all who she worked for. All the seated men were now watching her intently. She began to flush. ‘Perhaps this company is connected to Mistress in some way’, that made the most sense. No doubt she was being watched now, there always seemed to be a camera to watch her in this building.

To be honest, this man was so confident in his assertions, she would have gone along with his statements anyway. She couldn’t imagine causing a fuss by contradicting him, especially in front of these men.

“Jen, could you take the trays down to the front of the room and place them on the floor for us, thank you”

As usual Jen found herself trying to avoid eye contact as she followed someone else’s instructions. She picked up the tray of cups, saucers and biscuits and as she passed the gawping men, she realised what was coming. If she followed the instructions she was going to have to bend at the waist to place the tray on the floor. Not only was this going to be a somewhat athletic feat (‘So much for the health and safety video when I joined this company’ thought a renegade part of her mind), but it would undoubtedly seem odd to the men in the room.

What if they were not connected to her Mistress? They wouldn’t know about the instructions. They would simply think that she was being provocative. As she reached the front of the room she knew that there was no choice, she was committed to following her instructions. She took a deep breath and bent over to place the tray. The skirt was not a mini, but it was short, and as she bent she could feel the hemline rising up the back of her thighs. The material was pulled tight across her arse. Her Mistress had made her feel like a slut once again, without even being here.

She stood up, her cheeks now rosy red. Avoiding looking at anyone she made her way back for the tray with the tea and coffee pots on it. Depositing the second tray was more difficult as it was heavier, as she strained she knew that any normal person would think it unusual that she should bend at the waist. As the men were seated they were at the perfect height to be presented with her pert rounded arse and the teasing flesh between her knee-highs and skirt. They were bound to think that she was being provocative on purpose.

As she straightened again she jumped, sensing that someone was standing directly behind her. She froze. It had to be the younger man, and this was confirmed when he spoke again.

“You could say, Gentlemen, that Jen is the perfect specimen of our hospitality staff.”

The man’s voice resonated, confident and self-assured. Jen felt his breath on her neck. Was the man attractive or was it just his manner she was drawn to? Of course she had picked up on the veiled compliment in his last statement.

This was weird. She was in a room full of strangers; drawing attention to herself with her actions, when attention was generally the last think she sought. This left her feeling nervous and uncertain, but here was an attractive confident man, making her feel like a possession yet at the same time paying her a compliment. In her dilemma of insecurity he was providing himself as someone she could let take charge. She could feel the heat from his body stood so close behind her. Her mind leapt for him like a castaway for a life raft. If he would lead, she would follow. She had entered another door along her path of submission and it was shutting again behind her.

She felt his hand splayed on her back. The moment had been so charged that she jumped again at the sensation, but she stayed still, looked straight ahead. His hand felt huge on her, he stepped around her body, letting his hand trail across her back and around her hip. She looked down to the ground as he now stood in front of her. He looked side to side addressing his seated companions. She wondered what they were making of this.

“We hope that your complimentary tour of our research and development facilities will reassure you that we are very good at motivating our development staff, and can therefore recruit the very best brains in the business.”

He slid his hand down Jen’s hip to the hem of her skirt. His other hand joined it on the other side and very slowly he began to slide the skirt up. It was a reasonably tight skirt and as it passed her hips, revealing her bare arse, it bunched around her waist staying raised. Jen bit her lip and kept her head down. Without underwear she was exposed to the other gentlemen in the room. She was sure she heard someone chuckling behind her. She had a strange desire to give in fully, to bend over now and let them do what they wanted with her. Her pussy was hot and tingling.

“No doubt you will have an opportunity to partake in some of the motivational offerings for yourselves.”

The man was unbuttoning Jen’s blouse in the front.

“After all,” These words were strained out as the man tugged at the front of Jen’s bodice, Jen rocked on the spot at the force, she wasn’t sure if she had whimpered. The bodice loosened just enough for the man to fit his hands inside, “once you confirm as investors, you will be considered members of the team.”

The man shifted the bodice down a little, cupped Jen’s breasts and lifted them up and out, resting them on the top of the white ribbed material. Jen hadn’t been paying a great deal of attention to what the man had been saying, but the words were starting to filter down though the embarrassed muddle going on in her head. Was she being used as bait, corporate bait to gain a finance deal? Contradicting emotions filled her. This was becoming more and more familiar for her since meeting her Mistress. It was a sweet and sour mixture that never failed to excite her.

On the one hand she was shocked that her Mistress could put her in this position, could set her up as a prostitute. On the other hand she was thrilled at the idea of being so blatantly used by her Mistress, it put butterflies in her stomach and fire in her pussy, a fire that seemed to be sucking the oxygen from her lungs. She was also lifted by the idea that she was thought good enough to be the bait. That she was appealing enough to be used in this way. She was accepting this treatment and slowly but surely more doors to the past were clicking shut in her mind as she embraced her role.