Descent Into Oral Servitude

I spent a fruitless hour looking for clues to her destination and then checked out The National Centre for Islamic Studies on the internet. It was based on the outskirts of Boston and, from what I could judge, its emphasis was mainly historical rather than theological. If there really was a job on offer there Karen would be in her element. She had relatives in New England and had holidayed there often as a child.

I spent the night in the flat but it proved a mistake. The bed still bore traces of her scent and each time I fell asleep I dreamt of the good times. Three times in the night I had to get up to ease the crushing pain of thwarted erections and on the last occasion I was compelled to take a cold shower. The head of my penis was a dark, unnatural, purple colour. It was painfully sensitive to the touch and my body seemed intent on succeeding at any cost. My balls, too, felt painfully heavy. Logic told me that unused semen was being disposed of but, having not come for such a long time, logic was flying out of the window. As I stood under the icy jets I cursed Karen out loud.

I went to the office early the next morning, more intent than ever on finding a new position, but I was not the first in. I was still taking off my jacket when Marcia rang through.

“Would you step into my office please.”

When I walked in she was seated at her desk but there were no guest chairs. I stood awkwardly waiting for her to give me her attention.

“You’re in very early again. Were you intending to make a few calls?”

On the face of it the question was innocent but I got the distinctly worrying impression that she could see right through me.

“I had a phone call from Karen last night. She’s being interviewed today and she is reasonably optimistic but even if she doesn’t get the job she’s going to stay on for a few days holiday. However, you’ll be pleased to know that she still has your welfare at heart. She gave me permission to release you from the tube.”

A palpable sense of relief washed over me.

“So what’s the combination?”

“Whoa, not so fast. She gave me discretionary powers and I need you to be a good boy until I make a final decision on the Stasha situation.”

“Are you telling me that you aren’t going to release me?”

“I’ll release you next week.”

“You bitch! I thought we were friends!”

“That implies a degree of trust. I think you have foregone any claims to friendship.”

“So I just sit and wait. Is that it?”

My hash tone pricked her to anger.

“You can have my decision right now if you want it.”

“No!...I’ll wait.”

I could not take a chance until I was on firmer ground. A few days was all I needed.

“Good, that’s what I was hoping to hear. It gives you a little more time to persuade me of the merits of your claim.”

Her eyes did not leave mine as she said it and then she slowly slid her chair away from her desk.

She was completely naked from the waist down and her long bare legs were open in a wanton display.

“You’re kidding.”

“You think so? Just one word about your 30006 scam and you’ll be out of a job altogether, Now, do I need to make the message any clearer? Get over here on your knees and suck my pussy.”

It was the incongruity of it that threw me off balance. I had very rarely heard Marcia use low language but to hear it there, in the office, where she had always come across as the consummate professional was just too much.

“Marcia, don’t make me do this.”

“Oh, you’re going to do it alright and what’s more you’re going to come in early every morning. I get tense, and I’m liable to make rash decisions, it’s going to be your job to ease that tension.”

I realized then, not without fear, that resigning myself to my fate was becoming second nature to me. I approached her like a somnambulist and slowly went down onto my knees. As I stared at her sex some final remnant of manhood asserted itself and I clutched my groin in a failed attempt to prevent the onset of cramping pain.

“Does it hurt? Undo your trousers and show it to me.”

I did as she asked in the hope that the colder office air would take me off the boil but the relief was short lived. My cock strained itself in another bid for freedom and I gritted my teeth to prevent myself from crying out.

“Well, I have to say Karen has hidden depths. I wonder if she can get me one for my boyfriend?”

This reminder that Marcia still enjoyed a conventional love life only served to accentuate the degree of my subservience. I was no longer a friend I was simply a device to be used for her pleasure.

As I drew near to her I could see that her labia were glistening and her sex was already weeping with excitement. I lapped up the dew drop of moisture and she sighed her approval as I licked on upwards grazing her furrow with the tip of my tongue. She shifted forward slightly in her chair to make herself more accessible and I found myself drawing in a deep breath through my nose. I could not explain to myself why I felt this need to take her scent but then so many things had changed.

I teased her sex further open, ploughing deeper with each sweep of my tongue, until her clitoris stretched itself free of its fleshy hood. It stood out vividly red against the sweet pinkness of her core and I lapped at it with a delicacy that would previously have been beyond me.

Marcia, confident that no one else would be in for some time, painfully gripped my hair and directed my attentions and when she came it was with an exultant scream. Once it was over she pushed me away without a second thought and I found myself staring forlornly at my own image in washroom mirror. I hated these women and the things they made me do: they were stripping my manhood from me like the layers of an onion. I had to regain control or sink without trace.

The next morning I thought about delaying my arrival at the office but common sense prevailed. Job hunting was not as easy as I thought and, more often than not, my contacts interpreted my oblique approach as an offer of a job rather than a request for one. When I arrived at my work station there was a post-it note glaring at me from the middle of my dealing screen

“What’s keeping you!”

It felt as if I had a lead ball lodged in the pit of my stomach as I made my way to her office. She had me lock the door and then I noticed her desk. It was completely bare and for an ecstatic moment I wondered if there had been a shuffling in the corridors of power but as I crossed the room I saw that everything, including her computer screen, had been arranged tidily on the floor.

She made me undress completely and then told me to lie down on the desk. As she slowly peeled off her own clothing she circled me like a tigress eyeing its prey. The tension almost drove me crazy but, finally, she slid up onto the desk and took up a position which enabled her to look me in the eye as she straddled my face. My instincts drew my gaze to her breasts. In our long relationship I had often tried to picture them but my imagination had been wide of the mark. They were a little heavier than I had painted them in my mind but it was her nipples that really caught my attention. They were tiny brown circles but, as they came to attention, they were all teat. They stood wonderfully proud and it was as if she had no areolae at all.

She noticed my attention but her haughty expression made it clear that she felt that it was no more than her due and then there was darkness. It may have been the novelty of the position or simply the fact of her total control but she came quickly and violently pounding my face in the process. When I got back to my desk I had to search for some aspirin to help with the pain.

And so the pattern was set. Each morning I was required to present myself and perform. There was no word from Karen and my search for a new position grew increasingly desperate. The only hope on the horizon was Marcia’s promise to set me free. I thought that, as time passed, my body would give up the struggle but, if anything, my dreams became more and more lurid. I was waking up several times each night racked with pain.

I was in the depths of despond when two things happened at once. Completely out of the blue I received a call from a former colleague at my previous broking house. He suggested lunch and I was happy to accept. In commercial terms we were now rivals but we had always got on well and there was a half chance that something might come of it. In the event it was manna from heaven. He, along with a few others, were in the process of setting up a new financial spread betting enterprise. They had access to company shares experts but they needed someone to create a prices index for commercial bonds. He asked if I was interested. The salary was not altogether attractive but the job came with share options. I tried not to appear too keen but the excitement was coursing in my veins. The real beauty of it was that he knew Marcia too and there was no love lost between them. I intimated that there was a little bit of mud flying following her promotion but I got the impression that he could not care less. The chance of poaching me from under her nose, which is how he perceived it, was too good to turn down. Once he had established that I might be keen he told me that he would speak to his colleagues that evening and hoped to be able to make me a positive offer the following day.

I went back to the office on cloud nine only to find an e-mail from Marcia. It said that she was having dinner with Stasha that evening and asked if I could meet her afterwards at her flat. Presumably, she wanted to tell me her decision but, hopefully, that no longer mattered. What was important was her promise to give me the combination.

It seemed odd turning up at her flat without Karen by my side but I put that thought behind me and rang the doorbell. Marcia answered the door dressed in a red silk robe. She clearly had not had time to remove her make-up and I could smell wine on her breath.

“Come in. Take a seat.”

Her flat was tastefully styled in cool pastels and the living area was dominated by two inviting white leather sofas which opposed one another on either side of a huge coffee table topped with pink marble.

Marcia sat on one sofa and I took up station on the other.

“How was dinner?”

“Are you enquiring about the food or the conversation?”

“Cut the crap. What have you decided?”

“I’ll tell you in a moment. There’s something you can do for me first.”

As she spoke she loosened the belt on her robe and allowed it to part.

“Marcia, I’m not doing this any more.”

“It’s your choice. I heard from Karen again today.”

I did not want to ask but my curiosity got the better of me.

“What did she have to say?”

“She got the job. She’s staying in America.”

I not sure what I felt, a sudden sense of loss certainly but also a sense of relief. I was still trying to take it in when Marcia disturbed my train of thought.

“So, it seems that your fate is in my hands more now than ever.”

She lifted a leg and languidly draped it over the arm of the sofa.

“You said you would tell me the combination!”

“I believe I said I would give it to you this week. Now, if you behave yourself, I’ll let you have it tomorrow, if not you’ll wait until the end of the week.”

As she said it she allowed her fingers to trail across her brazenly displayed sex which was already sheened with arousal. Her assured smile angered me almost beyond measure and I was tempted to walk out and take my chances with Gillian Greaves, but then I pictured myself the following morning. I would accept the combination, take off the tube, and then break the news of my resignation.

Her smile grew wider as I walked towards her and then dropped to my knees.

“I want you to strip and then take your time, I’m feeling particularly randy tonight.”

I took off my clothes and her eyes dropped straight to the tube. For her it was a humorous curiosity but, for my part, I was frightened by the extent to which I almost took it for granted.

She was not lying. Her scent had quickly permeated the room and, as I applied my mouth to her sex I found that she was hot and wet. I assumed that she had been masturbating before I arrived and there was something mildly distasteful about following in her trail. My tongue slipped between the smooth folds of her labia with ease. I gently sucked and licked and had to swallow frequently to keep up with her copious flow.

I worked on her for several minutes, as anxious as ever to get it over with, but she seemed perfectly relaxed and, at one point, she picked up a remote control. The strains of Mahler’s third symphony issued forth from concealed speakers and I began to wonder just how long she expected me to carry on but, seconds later, I froze in place.

“Well, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes…”

The voice, coming from behind me, was familiar but I struggled to place it in the bizarre situation in which I found myself. Only as I turned around did my befuddled mind put a face to it. Standing there, in a gown not unlike Marcia’s, was Stasha. She appeared beautifully disheveled. Her short blonde hair looked as though it had been hastily brushed and the gown hung loose exposing one modest breast.

“What the fucks going on!”

As I swore I stood to face her. She looked completely unfazed as she looked me up and down and something told me that she already knew about the tube. Marcia broke the strained silence.

“Let’s just say there’s a little competition for places…come here angel”

Stasha glided across the room to stand next to me.

“Show him how it should be done.”

She gave me a sly smile before she got to her knees between Marcia’s legs. I stood by dumbly but, as Stasha leant in towards Marcia’s waiting sex, my body reacted in the same way as that of any red blooded male placed in an identical situation. But for the restraint my erection would have been instant; as it was the pain was like an electric shock, sharp, sudden, seeming to affect my whole body. I screamed under my breath.

“Don’t look away.”

The command came from Marcia but now that Stasha knew the effect she was having on me she played to it. She used finger and thumb to open Marcia’s labia revealing her clitoris. Then, looking side ways at me, she began to flick at it with her tongue. She was like a snake, she moved her tongue so quickly it was almost a blur and I realized, miserably, that I could never hope to compete. Marcia urged her on.

“That’s it….just there….don’t stop!”

Far from stopping she brought her free hand into play and, as I continued to watch, she gently worked a pair of fingers deep inside.

“Yesss!..Fuck me!”

Her hand started to move, slowly at first, but then ever more quickly as the movements of her fingers echoed the fluttering of her tongue.

I felt oddly aggrieved. I had done all the hard work and here was Stasha stealing the cream. A job made easier for her because Marcia never allowed me to use my hands. Seconds later her inevitable climax arrived. She was like a skyrocket climbing in an ever-rising arc until she could climb no more. She hung for a second or two, defying gravity, and then exploded in a blaze of technicolour expletives. Stasha licked her gently as she fell away from the zenith and only then did she remove her fingers and suckle them greedily.

Throughout the whole episode my prick refused to be beaten. I was bathed in cold sweat after the first burst of pain but still it stubbornly tried to fulfill its function until I was almost doubled over by the contractions.

Stasha was sheened in perspiration and, as she rose, she removed her robe without embarrassment and took a seat next to Marcia.

“Thank you angel. I think you deserve a reward.”

Stasha’s long legs were parted and they seemed impossibly smooth. They were completely denuded of hair and they glowed as if rubbed with oil. She retained a covering of blonde hair on her sex but it was trimmed with the kind of razor edge sharpness that only comes from professional attention. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to stroke them but the time had come to assert myself.

“You two girls don’t look as if you need any help. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I hope that I conveyed to Marcia the message that it would be first thing in the morning and that I expected her to deliver on her side of the bargain.

“Not so fast. I don’t think you quite understand. I don’t do other girls so that means that Stasha is going to need a helping hand or, in your case a helping tongue.”

“She bloody works for me! I’m not going down on her!”

“On the contrary, she works for me, just as you do. Now, you can do as you’re told or you can leave but don’t expect the combination any time soon.”

Stasha laughed,

“If it was down to me I’d keep him in it.”

Until that point I had never harboured any strong feelings for Stasha one way or the other. I had recognized in her an ambitious streak, which reminded me of myself at an earlier time, but I sensed now that she possessed a ruthlessness which I could not equal. I did not want to bow down before her, metaphorically or otherwise, but she understood that I had no choice. I had to get the tube removed. I worried that my inability to have an orgasm was scarring me psychologically but the greater fear now was some permanent physical damage. The earlier pain had been almost unbearable and it was hard to believe that it was not doing long tern harm.

She raised an eyebrow and gave me a half smile as she recognized the moment of submission but, as I started to move towards her, she turned to Marcia.

“Get him to lie on the floor.”

She was telling me, knowing that I dare not refuse, that she wanted my submission to be total

“You heard the lady. Lie down.”

I squeezed my nails into the palms of my hand as I fought for self discipline but I did as she asked. She took her time, approaching me slowly, and then she stood over me with her feet either side of my head. She looked down into my eyes daring me to make a comment and then, with balletic grace, she came to rest on my face. To look at her you would think her light but she wanted to emphasis her dominion and she let me bear her total weight. She was as aroused as Marcia had been, perhaps even more so, and she composed herself so that my nose was pinched close by her prominent labia.

She wanted me to use my mouth and tongue but suddenly understood that I could hardly breathe. This realization seemed to amuse her and for a moment or two she stayed exactly where she was. I tried to breathe through my mouth but there was more moisture than air and my lungs began to complain. I was at the point of shrugging her off me when she finally relented and lifted herself by a couple of inches.

“Lick me.”

As I put out my tongue I was filled with self loathing but I consoled myself with the thought that I was on the verge of a new, and perhaps even exciting, beginning. I braced myself and started to lick at her labia. The outer lips were prominent and parted easily allowing me to give my attention to their sisters within. She shivered as my tongue moved deeper and, by degrees, she began to move herself over me focusing my oral caress exactly where she wanted it. I allowed her to dictate the pace but I recognized that she was aroused as much by my humiliation as her own pleasure and that she would not be able to hold out for long. As if to prove me right she brought herself down heavily onto my face once again but this time she made sure that I had access to her clitoris. I did not even attempt to mimic her dexterity. I moved my tongue slowly back and forth, treating her clitoris almost like a boiled sweet, but it worked the trick. I think that she was more surprised than me when her climax stole up on her but she greeted its arrival with