New Slave on the Block (Part 1)

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Desire for Her leads him down dark, pleasureful path.
1.7k words
3.78
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 10/12/2003
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What once was good was bad. What once was bad was worse. Kirk found it was a terribly different world, cruel and horrible, even, now that the new Manager had arrived. He hadn't met her yet, but the entire office seemed to have slipped out of his control and into hers.

Sitting in his chair in the President's Office, it was all Kirk could do to keep from shouting at his underlings to be reasonable and come to their senses, but he was scared to death that they would simply kill him. Things seemed to work that way around here in the insurance industry. If you couldn't get your way the first time around…

"They bicker and squabble like spoiled children," he muttered to himself. "Today, Bastet and Thomas are arguing over the spelling of the latest benefactor's name!"

"You two sound like an old married couple." Teased a soft, husky voice. Heads turned to the front doors to see the source of the voice, and the striking female standing in the doorway arrested Kirk.

She was of an average height, around 5'6" but her body was sleek and curvaceous. She was clad in a daring black gown that attached around her neck in a halter-top style string. It had no sleeves and a plunging neckline that revealed the sides of large, firm, tight breasts and a smooth, toned abdomen. Kirk thought he even glimpsed her navel, the neckline was so low, and it seemed that the only thing keeping it from falling open was a diamond-studded clasp at the middle.

Hip-high side slits in the fabric allowed the dress to flutter against her legs freely, revealing limbs that were equally as toned, but much more muscular. Kirk felt his cock stir at the sight of her stiletto heeled sandals – only the tastiest whores he'd met wore shoes like those! Her forearms were encased in black gloves that ended in rings that encircled her middle fingers. Her skin was tanned a dusky shade of gold, her lips full and pink. Her features were bold, darkened by chocolate brown eyes and thick, wavy brown-black hair that flowed freely around the middle of her back. Overall, she was a dramatic, commanding feast for the eyes.

Thomas scowled her at, but she didn't seem to notice or care as she strode forward to stand between them. "Really Mr. Thomas," she purred, "you ought to give up! Adrian is spoken for!"

Thomas gritted his teeth and got to his feet, face flushed with anger. He made as though to hit the woman, but she merely stared at him with her bottomless brown eyes. They narrowed slightly at Thomas and he slowly sank back into his chair.

"That is better." The woman's lips curved upward at the edges and Thomas looked away as if ashamed. The woman seemed to dismiss him as she slowly swung a leg over Bastet's lap and straddled him, purring softly. "Hello darling."

Bastet grinned as they kissed deeply. "You look beautiful, Mistress. As always."

"Why thank you, Alpha." Rifka grinned naughtily and slid her hands down. Kirk couldn't see what she was doing, but he could tell from the way Bastet moaned. The couple spared no other words, and the bridge was soon stuffy with the heat they were putting off.

Kirk felt himself unable to look away as Rifka arched her back, moving her hips with a grace that couldn't possibly be human. Whatever she was doing, Bastet was enjoying it thoroughly. Work in the office paused, and it seemed to Kirk that voyeurism was an acceptable response, but for Kirk it wasn't enough. Something burned inside him as he stared at the gyrating young pair. Greed began to fill Kirk's mind with fantasies.

She'll be mine. He thought. She'll be mine, and do that to me whenever I please! She was, after all, just a fuck toy, right? And he was the President.

He was wrong.

The following night, Kirk followed the mysterious and captivating Rifka. He tried to keep tabs on her the whole day, but there were times when even the computer didn't know where she was. He had just caught up to her, after finding out she had been spending most of the day in Bastet's room, though she made visits to a number of people before.

When Kirk finally found Rifka, she was walking down the hall in his direction. Gathering his nerve for the confrontation, Kirk held his breath as he stepped out to meet her, only to watch her sultry, muscular walk take her into the gym's entrance without ever seeing him.

She's just playing hard to get! Kirk thought as he followed her. Taking her in public seems to be the thing to do around here, anyway. Maybe if I do take her in public, it will make my claim all the more clear. To everyone.

Kirk grinned as he entered the gym and looked around, silently congratulating himself on a perfectly laid out plan, not knowing he was in for an unexpected surprise.

Rifka lay on a bench, gazing up at a cute young man as he carefully attached weights to the barbell.

"That's the last of them." He panted, sweaty and winded. Rifka smiled and took his hand, licking the sweat from his palm. The boy gave a high-pitched giggle and danced around, pulling his hand away. "Mistress is playful tonight!" He cried.

"Just tonight?" Rifka laughed and took the bar in both her hands. "Yes… Tonight and every night, silly boy."

Kirk was amazed. The more he heard her talk, the more he felt Rifka's rolling accent growing on him. He watched as Rifka lifted the bar from its hooks and began to press it slowly and steadily, all with remarkable control.

"Are you sure this is all there is?" Rifka asked the boy. There wasn't even a hint of strain in her voice.

The boy nodded. "Yes mistress. I even took from the other machines!"

"Well… I guess I cannot yell at you." Rifka grinned lovingly and the boy blushed with such pleasure that jealousy flared inside Kirk.

She gives herself to children??? She wouldn't dare reject me! Still, Kirk felt himself hesitating as he watched Rifka bench with ease. The weight on the barbells had to be at least twice his bodyweight! He knew he couldn't afford making her angry.

The boy glanced up then and did a double take. "Oh," he blushed softly, "Hello Mr. Kirk…"

Rifka grunted softly and shifted the barbell back onto its hooks. She sat up and eyed Kirk coolly. "Something I can help you with, Kirk?"

The way she didn't use his title should have been clue enough, but Kirk's nerve had turned to mush the moment she had said his name, and the burning in his neither regions was becoming unbearable. "I was thinking…"

"Really?"

"Would you enjoy a dinner with the President?"

The hush in the room was deafening. Kirk suddenly felt he'd made the biggest mistake of his career.

"He is a very forgetful boy, is he not, Evan?" Rifka murmured softly to the boy next to her. He nodded vigorously in agreement. Rifka turned her gaze back onto Kirk. "Mr. Kirk, I thought I made myself clear. You have nothing to offer me." Rifka rose swiftly and brushed her hands over her sides, letting them rest on her hips. She was nearly a foot shorter that Kirk, but her presence and aura towered over him. "I am no common girl. I am not some naïve bumpkin you can charm. I am not a trollop you can buy, and I am most certainly not a lonely hag to pity just long enough to get off. I am none of those, Kirk," Rifka growled at him warningly, "but I can see to it that no cunt in the galaxy ever touches you if you do not watch how you behave." Rifka jerked her chin toward a group of burly guards. "Take him."

They stepped forward and surrounded Kirk. "Where?" One of them asked. Rifka's dark features twisted with a sadistic grin. "Some place popular."

***

Kirk awoke suddenly and found himself hanging by his wrists in a corner of the Lounge. His jaw was sore and the stench of sweat and excrement hung about like a sick cloud. He saw himself in the mirror across the room and watched his eyes widen in shock and horror.

His pants and underwear were in shreds around his ankles, his body bruised and scraped and covered in blotches of something white and sticky. His muscles ached in strange places, and worst of all was the wicked burning in his anus, and the sticky mess between his cheeks.

With a gasp, Kirk remembered the burly men Rifka had set on him like a pack of rabid dogs. They'd dragged him, kicking and screaming, all the way to the lounge. Kirk thought that was to be the end of his humiliation, but he'd sorely underestimated Rifka's twisted cruelty. "Take him" had obviously meant more to her and the guards than Kirk would have ever been prepared for.

Kirk's mind spun as the guards stripped him, shackled his wrists, and threw him onto the floor. Before he knew what was going on, he felt his legs wrench apart and a heavy body press down on his back. He tried to fight, but there were six of them, more than enough to hold him down.

Kirk's heart raced with panic as he recalled the rape. The memory of his hoarse, high-pitched screams filled him with shame as he was reduced to begging the brutes to stop as one by one they took turns filling his insides with filth.

"Shut him up, will you!" Shouted a voice he knew. "Some of us are trying to eat here!"

"Shut him up your own damn self, Bastet." Grunted one of the thugs.

"Adrian, help me! Make them stop!" Kirk looked up as Bastet wandered over and stared down at him.

"Fuck you." Bastet spat down at him, and then kicked his jaw with all the force of a train hitting a brick wall. The bartended tossed him a rag and Bastet stuffed it into Kirk's mouth, muffling him.

When all six guards had their fill of him, they pulled Kirk to his feet and looped a chain between his shackles, anchoring him to the ceiling. This was now, obvious to even Kirk, a punishment Rifka had warned others about quite professionally. It must not have taken long for Kirk to loose consciousness, for he remembered nothing else after that.

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