Abuse of Power Ch. 01 - Monday

By 5 o'clock on Monday afternoon, most people have gone home, and I am tidying my desk ready to leave work when my phone rings. I answer it and hear your voice: "Come to my office now." Then you hang up. I am startled by the arrogance of your curt order, but I find myself walking along the corridor. Your door is closed and I knock, opening the door and walking in when you tell me to come in. "Close the door," you tell me.

You remain silent for a moment and my discomfort grows, standing in the middle of your office looking at you expectantly, unsure of why you have called me here. Then you turn on your computer monitor and I see a screenshot of my FetLife profile page. My heart immediately drops to my stomach. I thought I had been careful to keep my identity hidden on there...

"How do you explain this?" you ask. "You know that there are very strict rules about this. I assume you've read our social media policy? This is gross misconduct." There is very little I can say to justify the stories I have posted online. I bite my lip as it begins to dawn on me that there might only be one way to prevent you telling our manager and causing me to lose my job.

"Please, please don't tell anyone. I'd lose my job. Please, I'll do anything..." I plead.

"Why would have known that you were such a dirty little slut?" you continue, smirking. "It's always the quiet ones that you have to watch out for." You roll your chair away from your desk and stand up, moving across the room to lock the door and pull down the blinds.

"Come here. Stand in front of me," you order. I hesitantly walk over to you, moving closer when you curtly order me to. "So, you'll do anything, will you?" You place your hands on my bottom and give it a squeeze, looking up at me from where you sit, gauging my reaction. I tense and you hear a sharp intake of breath. I bite my lip and look down at you imploringly, but I do not dare to protest, knowing what a predicament I am in.

Your hands move down my bottom and over my thighs until you reach the hem of my dress. Then you move your hands onto my bare legs and very slowly move them up my thighs. Your eyes remain fixed on mine and I look down, blushing.

"Will I find that your pussy is wet?" you ask me.

"No," I stammer. But I know my body is betraying me. I have fantasised so often about you touching me, dominating me and giving me orders, although not quite like this. But I cannot admit that to you. I can feel myself growing aroused at the feel of your strong hands on my thighs and I am not sure whether I want you to stop or to continue.

"You will address me as 'Sir'," you tell me. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I squeak.

Your hands continue their journey up my thigh, stroking over the soft flesh. My thighs part involuntarily, allowing you access. After a torturously slow few minutes, I feel your finger brush against the fabric of my knickers. You continue to move your hand upwards, rubbing over my labia, until you reach the top of my knickers. Without warning, you use both hands to quickly pull down my underwear, exposing my hot, wet pussy. You keep hold of my knickers, gesturing for me to step out of them. Then you hold them to your face, inhaling my scent and rubbing the wet spot.

"It seems you have already lied to me. Your knickers are wet." You open your desk drawer and place my knickers inside before closing it. I feel humiliated, but so aroused. I know this is wrong, but I want you to keep touching me. Without thinking, I subtly adjust my position, remaining standing still but thrusting my breasts out in invitation.

You stand up and move behind me, pushing me firmly over your desk. You push my skirt up around my waist. I gasp but feel my pussy growing wetter at this display of your natural dominance. You order me to spread my legs and keep my face down. My bare bottom is exposed to you, pushed up in the air. You place your fingers between my legs and then with little ceremony I feel them plunge inside my dripping wet cunt. I instinctively push back against you, drawing your fingers deeper.

"Such a dirty, wet slut," you whisper in my ear, bending over me. "I always wondered about you. And now you're mine. As long as you do exactly what I say, then your little secret can stay between us."

"Yes, Sir," I reply. "I'll do anything you want. Just please don't tell anyone."

Your hand withdraws from my pussy and strokes over my ass. And then I feel it come down on my ass in a hard spank. I cry out in surprise before I remember where I am. I try to remain silent as I feel your hand deliver a sharp blow to the other cheek. You continue spanking me, frequently pausing between blows, sometimes stroking my ass and sometimes just admiring the reddening of my cheeks, building the anticipation. Sometimes your hand strokes my pussy between blows, occasionally pushing inside me as you enjoy my whimpers that betray my growing need. You tell me about all the things you are going to do to me now that I am your slave. "You're my fucktoy, now. Your mouth, tits, pussy and ass are all mine to use. Now, thank me for your spanking, slut," you whisper.

"Thank you, Sir," I whisper.

"For what?" you prompt.

"Thank you for spanking me, Sir," I respond, blushing at having to admit out loud what you have just done to me. I feel so conflicted, knowing that I had no choice but feeling guilty for enjoying it.

You guide me to stand up and then push me down to my knees as you stand in front of me. You unzip your flies and pull out your cock. My eyes widen as I take in the length and width of your hard cock and I unwittingly lick my lips in anticipation. Your hand reaches down to stroke my hair and I feel myself craving your approval.

"Lift your dress above your waist and hold it there. Open your mouth wide," you order. I comply, looking up at you. You reach down and lift my breasts out of my dress, leaving them resting on top of the cups of my bra. I am now kneeling in front of you with my breasts and pussy exposed and my mouth open ready to receive your cock. "Good girl," you murmur as you slide your cock into my mouth. I feel my mouth stretching around you as you continue to push forward.

"How long has passed since I summoned you to my office?" you ask. I cannot answer with my mouth filled by your cock. "Less than 20 minutes. And you're already on your knees sucking my cock."

I try to move my head back, feeling ashamed by the way that I am following your commands so eagerly. You gather my hair into a ponytail and wrap it tightly in your fist, holding me firmly in place as you start to fuck my mouth.

"You can pretend as much as you like, but it doesn't make any difference. You're just a dirty cock-sucking slut. You're my dirty cock-sucking slut," you whisper. You continue fucking my mouth, pushing your cock just to the edge of my gagging point. "Play with yourself," you command. "But don't you dare cum." I keep hold of the hem of my dress with one hand and use the other to begin rubbing my clit. I feel your cock twitching and try to move my head away before you cum. But you hold my head firmly as you spurt your cum into my mouth before ordering me to swallow it all and thank you.

"Thank you, Sir," I mumble. Your hard, questioning stare reminds me to complete my sentence. "Thank you for cumming in my mouth, Sir."

"Good girl," you whisper. You notice that my hand has moved away from my clit and you order me to continue playing and to make myself cum. You sit back down in your chair and watch me intently, enjoying the sight of my humiliation at finding myself kneeling on the floor in your office with my breasts exposed and my dress held up around my waist, being forced to make myself orgasm in front of you. I try to resist the physical sensations, but I can't help being turned on by the way that you are gazing at me so admiringly and despite my embarrassment, it is not long before I reach orgasm.

You gently pull me to my feet and wrap your arms around me in a tight hug before kissing me gently. "You are such a good slut," you whisper. "I will enjoy all the depraved things I'm going to make you do. But remember that you don't have any choice. I want you to want this as much as I do, and I think you will. But if you deny me or refuse me, I will share what I know about you with your manager. I am going to turn you into a perfect sex slave. I will use you for my pleasure, but I hope you'll enjoy it too. I'm sure you will - I've read your profile on FetLife and I can help you to experience all the things you fantasise about and so much more. Now straighten your dress up and go home."

You release me from your arms with a smirk and give me one last kiss. I rearrange my dress so that it covers me and consider whether to ask for my knickers, but think better of it. As I turn to leave your office, you call out, "Have a good evening. I'll see you tomorrow...".