Becoming LeAnn Ch. 01

With her hours and workload, LeAnn didn't have time for chatty friendships with girlfriends these days. It only depressed her to get together with old friends and hear all about what their successful husbands were doing, and their lack of understanding of what it was like to have to be out in the work world had just begun to annoy her. Her desire to be in conversation with her husband had been declining year after year as well, and now that she was avoiding discussions about the office, the gap had widened. She knew in fact, that the late hours had been serving as a quiet time between dealing with customers and going home to deal with Tim.

The sad fact was LeAnn had no one to talk to. She began to settle in to the fact that at least her conversations with Brock and Kurt were "adult" conversation, and at least when Brock was speaking casually he didn't seem angry. He smiled and laughed and was somewhat pleasant, even vaguely charming. After a few weeks of trying to make the best of things, LeAnn had given in to nervously parroting along while Brock monologued.

It had started off as a comment Brock made about dating one of the secretary's at the corporate office, how he'd spent the night at her place and had to drive all the way in that morning, no details. Then over the weeks he opened up more, talking about the girls he met online, how he'd been busy all night and just barely had time to shower and dress.

This escalated to point where LeAnn knew she had let it go on too long and there was probably no going back. One Monday she and Brock were chatting casually during the morning coffee break.

After LeAnn had shared a little about her relaxed family weekend, Brock casually told her he'd had a threesome with a married couple he hooked up with on Craig's List. She innocently asked if he was golf enthusiast. He laughed and answered that he was, but that this threesome took place in the couple's bedroom. LeAnn grew visibly uncomfortable. When she raised her hand in protest and began stammer out an objection, he had interrupted her with a laugh, saying that he was just talking about his hobby.

"Hey, some guys like fishing, some guys like watching their wives get pounded by a stranger with a big tool!" LeAnn's face had burned crimson, and she spat out, "Oh my Gosh Brock, that is so inappropriate! Please!!" Brock laughed loudly and concluded that particular chat by turning back to the work on his desk and muttering under her breath, "the little slut almost passed out when both of us were inside her."

She knew she could report Brock for sexual harassment and thought hard about it, but in the end LeAnn decided she needed the job too badly and that it would be more trouble than it was worth to make waves.

At first she had wanted to believe that Brock's bragging was just compensating, that guys who have to talk about sex all the time probably didn't really get much. Then she thought about the confidence in his voice, the fact that he was tall, well dressed, well built, rich, and handsome (in a brutal, ugly kind of way), and after adding it all up, the theory seemed pretty weak. In the end, LeAnn concluded that Brock probably was in fact, a stallion who pursued sex like a sport.

This was more or less substantiated a few weeks later. Their office was invited to a dinner event by a client. Spouses and dates were invited, it was fancy dress, and she and Tim had shared a table with Brock and his date Lucy, a pretty, voluptuous cubicle bunny from the head office. On a shared restroom run, Lucy was only too forthcoming about the nature of her relationship with Brock.

"He always asks me to these company things because he likes the way I dress and the way I act with clients, but our relationship is nowhere near exclusive. It's strictly physical between Brock and I." Lucy had gushed information with no invitation from LeAnn, "Of course, I hold things back a little with him and I don't date him often. When LeAnn had cocked her head slightly to one side with a curious little pout, Lucy answered abruptly, "Oh I figured you had probably heard already!"

LeAnn's curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned slightly forward, the little pout increasing to an inquiring little frown as she shook her head slightly.

Lucy continued, "Sorry, I had assumed Brock's reputation would have made it out to your little neck of the woods. Most of the girls at the head office know that a date with Brock is always a guaranteed rough ride," Lucy took a slightly serious tone, "It's just known that if you go out with him, there isn't going to be any 'Lovemaking', you're just gonna get fucked!'", Lucy leaned in a little closer as she confided, "seriously, he stays hard for hours and he is hung like a goddamned HORSE!"

LeAnn turned her signature shade of red and held up her palm, "Lucy, Oh my god, that is just WAY too much information!"

Lucy laughed as she continued to dish, "Oh its big fun every once in a while, but honestly, I can't even sit down or walk straight for a couple of days after Brock works me over, and getting used like a cheap fuck-doll doesn't do much for my self-esteem either."

LeAnn had indulged in one or two more drinks than was usual for her and had giggled along with Lucy like a pair of giddy schoolgirls all the way back to the table. LeAnn found herself acutely aware of Brock's predatory gaze as she seated herself.

Then a few weeks after that, there came the fateful afternoon when LeAnn found Brock's magazines in the restroom.

This was the thing that was buzzing around the periphery of LeAnn's mind tonight, poking and prodding at her as she sat late at her desk, tugging her concentration away from the pile of papers which seemed to be growing more meaningless by the second.

About four months ago she had been alone, late at the office, looking for some glass cleaner in the bathroom cabinet.

She had noticed the tiniest tip of the corner of a magazine poking out over the top of the cabinet, just out of reach. It looked very red and shiny and glossy. A little voice inside told her to just leave it, don't bother looking. It was the same little voice she heard when she had spied that corner of a magazine in the bottom of her father's underwear drawer one hot afternoon so very long ago. LeAnn disobeyed the voice this time too.

She had remembered seeing a step ladder in the mop closet down the hall. Quickly and quietly she went to get it, heading through the back office door into the cool, dark concrete corridor that lead to the parking garage. Magnusson was out for the afternoon, LeAnn got into the dingy mop closet, grabbed the ladder and hauled it back down the corridor, telling herself that it was probably nothing, but the pounding of her heart was telling the truth, and she knew it.

It was still a little bit of a reach to the top of the cabinet so LeAnn was very careful. She hadn't been careful enough with the magazines in daddy's drawer and had put them back out of order. It was the summer her Mom had left them for another man, just before LeAnn left for college. LeAnn had been helping around the house more and was putting away her father's laundry when she made that hot little discovery.

As she set up the ladder in the office restroom and started to climb, LeAnn realized her heart was pounding just like that time back in Daddy's room. She remembered how she'd felt; so dirty, hot and nervous as she pulled the stack of dirty books from the drawer and sat down on her father's big bed, her heart pounding furiously as she leafed through them from cover to cover.

LeAnn had been fully sexually developed at the time and knew what it was like to be aroused, but not like this. This was what some of the girls at school called "horny". She began masturbating as she looked at her daddy's dirty pictures of boys touching pretty girls, girls touching themselves and touching the boys' penises. She had touched herself plenty of times before, but not like this. She found herself in a trance-like state and became conscious for the first time of the wet sloppy noises her fingers were making down there. LeAnn rapidly brought herself to an overwhelming orgasm.

Daddy had called her in to his room the next day and interrogated her about going through his drawers. She tried to explain about the laundry, but daddy didn't buy it. Even though she felt she was way too old for it, she ended up getting a bare bottom spanking with his thick leather belt. She was more careful after that, but she still paid regular visits to daddy's underwear drawer until she went off to college that fall. The week before she left, desperate for daddy's attention, she put the dirty magazines out of order again.

She had tried to be a good girl after that, trying to abstain from anything remotely dirty or arousing. She attended Catholic students group, tried to be moral, tried to bury her baser instincts.

LeAnn had struggled through her single life at school and work, dating, necking, being groped and fondled, awkwardly handling a couple of backseat penises, desperately wanting it to go further but still resolved to save herself for marriage like a good catholic girl, ultimately fulfilling that goal.

But that evening in the toilet, LeAnn fought to control her breathing, and she could hear her heart beat in her throat as she carefully lifted down the stack of glossy magazines from over the cabinet. All those old feelings came back tenfold, and then she saw immediately that these were not her daddy's Penthouses and Hustlers. As her trembling fingers leafed through the pages, the images they revealed shocked her to the very core of her being.

These were full page glossy spreads, depicting depraved acts she had never even dreamed people could do to each other. In the stack of a half dozen magazines, there was quite a bit of variety.

The first one she opened was called "Tag Teamed Bitches". It was full of girls being taken by two or even three or four guys at the same time. LeAnn couldn't help but think of the Craigslist woman Brock had mentioned. The sequences would begin with the woman kneeling between the two men, holding their penises, pulling on them, licking them and putting them into her mouth. The penises were so HUGE!

The rough treatment the men gave the girls seemed to get harder and rougher as the sequences went on, one man taking her from behind while another would hold her hair and shove his big penis all the way into her mouth. LeAnn gasped out loud as she turned the page to see a close-up of two huge penises stuffed into a girl, one in her anus and one in her vagina, the pink holes stretched beyond capacity. From the pictures of the girl's faces, LeAnn couldn't tell if they were in pain or ecstasy. Maybe it was both, she couldn't imagine.

LeAnn was completely overwhelmed as she briefly ventured the thought about what it would be like to be one of the women in the photos. The thought of being manhandled like that was absolutely incomprehensible to her demure little mind.

The women in the pictures seemed to have no control over the situation at all. The large men muscled the girls around, held them tightly in place, lifted them in the air, pinned their arms and legs back. Most of the girls had glaring red hand prints all over their butts and thighs where the men had been spanking them as they fucked them. Their mouths, vaginas, anuses all were stuffed with big penises.

LeAnn's fingertips had grown sweaty, so she laid the magazines on the black marble bathroom counter to avoid wrinkling the pages. One hand had moved unconsciously to slide the hem of her dress up her thigh. Her fingertips had begun to circle the front of her panties before she even became aware of it.

One picture showed a man holding a girl up in the air, facing away from him. His manhood was stuck up her butt, stretching it tightly, and his big muscular arms hooked around the girls' skinny legs with his hands behind her head in a wrestling hold. Her head tilted awkwardly forward and her beet red pussy gaped open as she took the anal hammering. In the next couple of pictures, another man stood facing the girl as the other guy held her in the full-nelson. The front man had his hands gripped tightly around her throat and he fucked her pussy as the other guy simultaneously fucked her anus. Never in LeAnn's darkest fantasies had she imagined sex so brutal and violent. She turned the pages in disbelief.

LeAnn was grossed out but kept looking as the sequences all ended with the girls kneeling submissively on the floor, the guys standing over the girl and rubbing their penises, shooting their sperm on her. The girls' faces and breasts, even hair would be covered with sperm as they licked and sucked the tips of the big wieners. Some girls would even take it all in their mouths! So much sperm; she was pretty sure her Tim had never on his best day produced as much sperm as even one of these guys. LeAnn couldn't even fathom the degradation of having two or three guys shooting that much semen all over her face, it was beyond all comprehension. Just thinking of the smell made her gag a little.

Next was a magazine called "Hogtied" It was filled with images of naked and half naked girls tied with ropes, pulling their arms and legs in all directions, trussed up like animals and hung from the ceiling, tied to wooden crosses and beams. The settings looked like dark basements with concrete walls and industrial lights and fixtures. Men in black leather were spanking the girls with implements made of black leather; riding crops, whips and paddles, violating them vaginally and anally. It looked as though they were ramming their cocks down the helpless girl's throats. The girl's hands were tied behind their backs, they were covered with spit and sweat, and there was nothing they could do but take it.

Leann's fingers had been working her little pussy hard through her panties. It became frustrating, so she pushed them down and let them slide down her slim legs. She knew she wouldn't take long to finish.

LeAnn's masturbation habit had increased significantly over the past few years, so much so that she had stopped going to mass because she couldn't stand walking by the confession booth. She just grew depressed about telling the priest over and over that she was habitually playing with herself.

She was pretty sure she wasn't stopping anytime soon, and besides that, the way the priest had been questioning the last few times, ("My child, if not your husband, what do you fantasize about in these times of lustful self-indulgence?") she had begun to think he might have been looking forward to hearing her confession every Sunday.

As much as she loved him, Tim had been having sexual performance "difficulties" for some time now. He had not been coming to bed until the wee hours of the morning for some months now. He told LeAnn that he was in his office looking for work online; she had her suspicions about that but honestly didn't really want to know.

At any rate, his habit allowed LeAnn to take a nice hot bath alone every evening, slide into bed and bring herself to a quiet but satisfying orgasm before drifting off to sleep. Lately she had been occasionally waking up and doing herself again in the middle of the night.

Standing here masturbating in the office restroom had taken LeAnn to a completely new level. It was not a level she was proud of, but she had a feeling she should get used to it.

For one thing, it made LeAnn feel extremely dirty, just like a dirty little girl again, hot and sweaty, on the sly, afraid of getting caught. The delicious pang of guilt was familiar and vague and molten hot.

For another, after hours in a secluded spot with no one else in the building, she didn't have to fuss about being quiet.

She could hear the wet, hot, squishy sounds of her fingers sliding, rotating, pulling against her slippery sex loud clear in the enclosed space. She could also smell the hormonal tang of her groin mingled with the perfume of her own secretions, which seemed to be seeping from her in record quantities. She didn't have to hold back her moans and vocal expressions like she did at home.

The last magazine in the stack jolted her senses and set her hand working her sex with newfound urgency.

The magazine seemed much more "high-end" than the previous cheap tawdry rags. The cover title read "Secretary's Day". A dark haired girl was on the cover. She wore black framed glasses and was dressed much like LeAnn did, and she was pail, frail and slightly mousey.

Thick ropes wrapped around her waist and arms and a gag was in her mouth. LeAnn turned through the pages slowly her eyes drank in the images of the pretty secretary.

She glanced up at the mirror and a brief chill ran up her spine as she noted how much this girl resembled her.

In the first frame the innocent looking girl sat working at her desk.

A large intimidating man in a suit entered the frame, and over the next couple of images he grabbed her by the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her to her feet. The shocked, frightened look on her face gave way over the next frame to a close-up of her face with her eyes closed, brows furrowed and lips parted. It was a look of blissful ecstasy.

The man ripped the girls blouse open and shoving her bra cups aside, roughly began to maul her breasts with his huge hand, pinching and pulling her nipples roughly to and fro while holding her head back by her hair. Shockingly, the man began to slap the undersides of her breasts, and he looked to be slapping them hard. The photography was art quality, and the high definition camera captured a startling image of a blurred hand and one breast slapped upward at an extreme angle to its mate. After a few frames of this, the girl's milky pale breasts were turned completely hot pink.

LeAnn's mind began to view the scenario before her as though she were looking into an ever widening window frame, the little office in a box before her becoming life sized in front of her glazed eyes. It was as if she began to enter a dream.

The big man in the suit pulled the skinny brunette to the front of his huge mahogany desk. He pushed her back against it and stood back. In the next photo, they just stood there, he glaring, she with downcast face, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides, her abused titties jutting from her ruined bra and blouse.

In the next frame he pointed to the floor in front of him.

Over the next couple of pages the girl got on her knees as he pulled the large, curved, semi flaccid penis from his trousers. She looked up at him with big eyes pleading through the black framed glasses as she opened wide and began to do her job. The man tangled his fingers in her brown hair and had sex with her mouth. He intermittently pulled his cock out of her mouth and slapped her across the face with the back of his hand.

LeAnn wanted to try and hold back until the last magazine but she felt her orgasm building so quickly she knew very suddenly that she couldn't even get to the end of this one.

As she flipped frantically through the sequence and saw images of the dominant, cruel boss bending the girl over, pulling her skirt up over her hips and spanking her bared bottom, the pale skin of her butt covered with hot pink hand prints, which all melded together as the round peaks of her slender ass glowed crimson against the highly contrasted pale skin surrounding her assaulted flesh. He paused from his spanking to shove his fingers roughly into the girl, three in her pussy and one into her ass.

LeAnn could feel herself teetering on the edge of a blowout orgasm. She was barely conscious of what her fingers were even doing down there on her clit, her hand moved of its own accord.