CockSlut Ep. 02

Later that evening...

I was home for the night, and had the apartment to myself. My roommate worked nights, and so we rarely saw each other, which worked perfectly for us. He was an alright guy, but just, not someone I would voluntarily be friends with. He paid his half of the rent on time though, so there was that, and usually didn't make a mess. Come to think of it, he actually was a great roommate. Still wouldn't be friends with him though.

So there I was, empty apartment, new razor, bottle of lube, and a box of metal butt plugs. Sounds like the start of a party. I had decided on the bus ride home that I was going to shave first, I guess thinking that it would be easier to do without the plug, although I'm not sure now how that would have made a difference. Standing in the shower, lathered (with shaving gel... never use plain soap, kids, it's bad for your skin), I started. My chest seemed like the easiest place to start: flat, even, easy to get to. The hair only snagged a dozen times or so. It wasn't until later that I learned about body hair trimmers and bought myself one. They're life-savers, let me tell you. Or... skin-savers at least.

After my chest was sufficiently smooth and red, I stopped to consider where to go next. I don't exactly have back hair, which was a plus because there was no way to reach it. Alright, fine, how about my legs? His were smooth, and he said he wanted me hairless like he was, so...

OK, ladies, if there are ladies reading this, on that day I gained a new respect for you. Guys, please, appreciate that women shave their legs, almost all the time, and generally don't complain to us about it. Seriously, try it one day. Or don't, but still. It's a pain in the ass.

My arms were next, and were similar to my legs, but not as big. I was starting to get the hang of the razor, and learned to angle it a little better to prevent the snagging. Things were going well, until there was only one place to do. Fuck.

Again, guys, if your girl shaves for you, go down on her. All the time. Or something. Make it worth her doing it, because shaving around down there is horrible. In fact, guys kind of have it easier, because we can just pull and shift everything out of the way. Then again, we've got stuff that gets in the way... so... maybe it's a wash. Regardless, I managed to shave without too much hassle, and that was without a trim first. Again, buy a trimmer. Worth. It.

Stepping out of the shower was weird. Without hair anywhere, you feel the cold air on you. If you've never shaved your pubic hair, you don't realize just how cold a room can be when you're walking around naked. I dried off with a towel, then set it aside to check my work in the mirror. Honestly, it wasn't bad. I looked like a swimmer or something, all smooth and sleek. And I had to agree with the boss, I kind of liked how my cock and balls looked without the hair. He had a point about that. The rest was alright too, and I thought I did a fairly good job, especially for my first time and with no help. Ok. Alright. This could work.

My eyes shifted to the box and the lube then. Oh. Yeah. That.

Opening the box, I looked over the three steel bulbs. The smallest was about the size of my thumb, and the largest about as big around as the boss's cock: enough that I couldn't get my fingers all the way around it. He had to be kidding, right? And only the three? Like, shouldn't there be more stages here? Kind of a big leap between them. I decided I'd mention it at some point.

I removed the smallest from the box and held it up, examining. There wasn't much to it, just stainless steel in a kind of teardrop shape, with a safety handle. Suddenly I couldn't get the thought of a lawnmower starter out of my head, and came down with a case of the nervous giggles. They went away when I remembered that this thing was supposed to go in my ass.

I lubed the living fuck out of that thing. They say you can never use too much, but I pushed the limits on it. Clear goo dripped from the bulb onto the tile floor, something I'd have to clean up later. For now, it was time to try this. I held the plug against my ass, sliding up and down my crack, because I had never tried to find my own asshole before. It didn't take but a second though, and I puckered as the cold metal touched me there. I... might have started to get just a little bit hard too. I took a breath, and pushed.

Nothing happened. My ass abjectly refused to allow entry. Damn. I tried again, but was rejected. It wasn't until I tried to first wiggle the tip a little, to let the tapered plug work its way in, that I was finally successful. Really, once past the initial hurdle, sliding the rest in wasn't all that difficult, and the bulb settled itself into place as my ass clenched around it. I checked to make sure the safety handle was still outside. It was.

I couldn't face myself in the mirror, but I could bring myself to look at my own body. Again I looked over the hairless smoothness, but then turned, contorting, trying to check my butt. You couldn't see the plug, or at least I couldn't. I knew it was there though.

I stashed the razor, lube, and box of plugs in a bottom drawer in my dresser, then threw on some clean underwear. The material felt weird against my sensitive skin, but not bad. If anything, it made me more aware of that area, just like the plug did. I wound up having a chub all night.

Waking up with something in your ass is a unique experience, and I would recommend it to everyone. At first, you can only tell that something is off, but not really what or where. There's a feeling, not unpleasant, of wrongness. For me, without thinking, I reached behind me and felt my ass, because I could at least tell that that's where it was coming from. My finger hit something hard, metallic, beneath my underwear, and I remembered.

I remembered everything: the interview, standing naked in front of my boss, kneeling for him, sucking his monster of a cock. I remembered the orders to shave, and to start learning to take things in my ass because he was going to fuck me. I got that butterfly feeling again in the pit of my stomach.

I had to wear the same pants as the day before, and knew he would comment about it. But... I only had one pair of dressy pants, and they were it. If he wanted to buy me clothes, fine. Otherwise I'd just have to come in like this. I at least had a different shirt. Oh, and red tie that day.

I was asked to sit in the reception area outside the boss's door and wait for him, so I did, carefully. I was still learning the logistics of having even a small hunk of metal in my ass. Don't get me wrong though: it wasn't painful, just... weird. At first anyway.

At literally, exactly eight, the boss opened his door. "Oh, good, you're here," he said, then abruptly turned back into his office, leaving the door open. I wasn't sure, but guessed that was an invitation. I stood, was reminded of the metal in my butt, then followed the boss into his office.

"Shut the door," he said just as I was passing through it. I grabbed the knob and pulled it with me, shutting the door and stepping in at the same time. "You're wearing the same pants," he observed, without turning to me.

"Ah... you noticed that..." I said, dropping my hand to my side.

"Yes. I'd prefer if you didn't do that." He was looking at some kind of file, back still to me.

"Yeah... sorry about that. Just, you know, money is tight right now and..."

"You can't afford clothes?" The question wasn't asked unkindly, but more just as an observation, a fact about me just like how my hair was light brown, or that I was a grower and not a shower. For the first time he turned though, and actually looked at me, waiting for my answer.

"No, not at the moment," I admitted. "Like I said, money is tight right now." He didn't say anything, but reached behind himself and came back with his wallet.

"Here," he said, holding out several bills. "That'll get you started."

"Oh... no I couldn't..." The last thing I wanted was to owe this guy money. Well, OK not the last, but...

"Take it. I can't have my Executive Assistant walking around in the same pants for two weeks until he gets paid." That was a good point, I had to admit. Presentation was, sometimes, everything.

"OK," I said, taking the bills and folding them without counting. My mom said that it was always rude to count money when someone gave it to you. "I'll uh... I'll go..."

"This afternoon," he finished.

"This afternoon," I replied. "Sure."

"For now, lock the door and take off your clothes," he instructed, pointing past me to the door. At least, I think he was pointing past me. I guess it could have been at me.

"Starting early?" I quipped.

"I need to see how you did," he said, as if that was an entire explanation.

"OK but won't your secretary...?" "She knows not to interrupt when the door is locked."

Huh. That added a new level to all of this. At least one. Was I the first? Maybe not. "Alright," I said, accepting the no-explanation explanation, then turned the lock.

"Clothes," he reminded me.

"Right..." I said with a nod.

Like the day before, the tie was first, loosened and pulled over my head. Then the shirt, one button at a time. After that, pants, then underwear and socks. In under a minute I was again naked in front of my boss. His eyes were on me the whole time, watching my body as I uncovered it. I could feel him examining, inspecting. Had I done well enough? Would he approve, or make me do it all over again, or what?

"Alright, that's... not bad," my boss conceded. "You look good hairless." I didn't know why, but I slightly blushed at the compliment. "What do you think of it?"

I tilted my head to the side. Huh. I hadn't really thought much of it, and said as much. "I don't mind it. I... I guess I might like it. It'll have to grow on me though."

"And your plug?" Did he want me to show him, or was he asking if I liked it?

"What about it?" I asked.

"Is it in?"

"Oh. Oh, yeah. I've got that sucker in, yep."

"Show me."

I breathed. I knew that was coming. Alright. Fine. I turned my back to him.

"Spread. Bend over," he ordered. Right. I leaned awkwardly forward, bending at the waist, then reached behind me, gripping my butt cheeks and spreading, showing him the silvery handle between them. "Good," he said, tone almost complimentary. "How did you like putting it in? Oh and you can stop spreading and stand back up now."

How did I like it? Again, I hadn't thought much about it. No... no that wasn't true, not at all, because I'd had half an erection the night before, all night. If I said anything other than "I actually kind of like it" I would have been lying.

"I actually kind of like it," I said truthfully, turning back to him. I shrugged, as if to say that it didn't really mean anything.

"Good, OK then. Why don't you have a seat?" He gestured toward a couch in a small sitting area to the side. I nodded, gathered my clothes, then sat. The boss started reading papers from his desk.

"So... um... did you want me to do anything... or...?" I asked after several minutes. I was being payed to just sit there. Well, no, I was being payed to sit there naked, but... same idea.

"Mm, not now, I'm busy," he said, again not looking up.

"Oh. Alright then." I busied myself with looking at every single thing in the office, anything with any detail, then out the windows, at the other buildings downtown.

"OK come here," the boss said, finally, after at least an hour. He set his papers down and pushed back from his desk. "Down there," he instructed, gesturing to the kneehole. "You're distracting me, so just get to work, we'll do the thing, and I'll continue to read."

"Do the thing?" I asked as I stood. He wanted me to go down on him, and I thought that such a momentous occasion deserved to be called what it was.

"Suck my cock, you know what I'm talking about," he grumbled.

"I know. I just wanted you to say it." Damn it, he was paying to humiliate me, he could at least say the words.

"You need to understand something," he said, standing himself. "We're not friends, or lovers, or whatever else you have in your head. I'm your boss, and you're... you're my cockslut, got it?"

"Your... what?"

"Cock. Slut. Cockslut. That's what you are. Say it."

I didn't speak for a while, rolling the word around in my head first. I got that butterfly feeling again. That's what I was, wasn't it? Or what I was becoming? This man's cockslut? I mean, I had only given him head once, and I guess was about to again, but did that warrant...

"Under the desk, cockslut." Apparently, that was the word of the day.

"OK, alright, I'm going." I knelt, then crawled into the kneehole, turning back to face out. There was barely enough room for me, and it really wasn't comfortable at all. I could see him undoing his belt, then unzipping his pants. Then he sat, without taking himself out.

"Take my cock out and get to it," his voice came from the other side of the desk. So he would give me access, but I had to do the work. He was the boss, I was the... well you get it.

I slid my hand into his pants, found the fly of his briefs, and pulled them open. His smooth shaft lay beneath, warm and thick, still not hard at all. I tugged and it kind of flopped out, just hanging between his legs. "Balls too?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied, as if I'd asked the most obvious question he'd heard.

"Right. Balls too. Never forget the balls." That would eventually become my mantra. Shifting his cock out of the way, and again reaching in, I found his sack -not that that was difficult- and pulled it out also, giving them a little tug and roll. The boss grunted, apparently how he showed that he liked what you were doing. I decided I'd give them attention first, before moving on to ... bigger things.

As I've said, his testicles are large and heavy. They felt weighty in my hand, substantial. I considered how they were full of sperm that, eventually, would probably be in my mouth, down my throat, or on me somewhere. I tried not to think of that part too much.

As I played, the boss's massive cock started to come alive. I watched, up close, as blood filled it, as it hardened and began to stand on its own. Without being told, I licked the first drop of precum from him, and again heard a grunt from above. I decided, though, that I wasn't going to touch his cock again until it was fully hard, just a game I was going to play, whether with myself, or with him, I wasn't sure.

It didn't take long. The boss, as it turned out, was a big fan of ball-play, and was soon rock-hard. I leaned forward and sunk the head of his cock into my mouth for the second time in as many days. It was warm and semi-solid, taking up much of the room in my mouth. I tried to take what I could, but like the day before, was limited to only a couple of inches. I knew I'd have to learn. I sucked gently, pulling my mouth back and kissing the tip. Then, grasping the shaft, I took the head again.

"Not too fast or intense. I don't want to be too distracted." A directive from on-high, as it were. I didn't need to acknowledge, and just kept my slow, gentle pace. My hand stroked him gently, only slightly gripping the shaft. My tongue swirled under and around his head. I licked and sucked down the side of his shaft, then at the base, sucked one of his hairless balls into my mouth. "Fuck..." I heard from up above, the curse coming quietly, under his breath. It didn't take long. Like I said, the boss likes ball-play.

I felt him throbbing and knew what was coming. I had to move quickly, placing my mouth on and around the head, and just in time. He filled my mouth, and something told me that if I let any dribble onto his pants, I'd be in trouble. I had to swallow, to gulp, to not lose any. I managed though. Barely. I'm still proud of that.

He kept me under the desk for a minute, then pushed back, letting me out, and stood. He stuffed himself back into his underwear and pants, then sat again, while I stood next to him. "Um... excuse me. Sorry. What about...?" I gestured to my groin, where my own cock was raging and in need of release.

"You know how to take care of it," he said, waving a dismissive hand. Ugh... again? I was going to have to masturbate again? I guess he sensed my frustration, because he turned to look at me. "What, do you need help?"

"I mean..." I said, crossing my arms, "if it's being offered."

The boss picked up his phone and pressed a button. "Molly? Molly can you come in here please. Yeah, it's OK." A second later, the door unlocked and opened. The secretary, Molly apparently, stepped inside. I tried to cover myself, but the boss again waved it away. "Calm down. She's here to... help... you." I looked from him to her. OK, that would work.

Molly couldn't have been more than 23? 25 at the most. Tall, blonde, nice figure subtly hidden beneath work-appropriate clothes. I met her green eyes and smiled, holding out my hand. "Hi, Molly I'm..."

"Yeah OK whatever," she interrupted. "I don't need to know your name, you won't last any longer than the other ones." That could have two distinct meanings. "Just... come here, let me..." Molly took a step forward, even though she'd told me to go to her, and wrapped her hand around my shaft. The boss turned back to his desk and his papers, his interest gone. She started stroking, not fast but not really slow either. There was no grace or finesse to it.

"When..." I cleared my throat. "When you said I wouldn't last like the others, did you mean..."

"Do you want to talk, or do you want to cum? I'll do one or the other but not both, OK?" My, she was pleasant. I shut up.

To be fair, if that's needed, Molly was pretty good at giving hand jobs. Had she practiced on the boss, maybe? Probably. Almost certainly. Maybe on clients as well, who knew? I was supposed to "work" with certain clients.

Between Molly's hand, and the plug in my ass, it didn't take long for me to cum. Molly sensed the throbbing and immediately grabbed a tissue. The boss apparently kept them handy. "Here, cum in this," she instructed, holding the tissue over the head of my cock. I did, with a grunt and a gasp, shooting my load cleanly into the tissue. When I was done, Molly dropped it into the trash. "Anything else?" she asked the boss.

"No, thanks Molly," he said, still eyes on the papers.

"You got it boss. I'll be outside." She turned on a heel and started for the door. About halfway across the room, she called out over her shoulder. "See ya later, cockslut." My mouth dropped open.

"She gets to call me that?" I asked the boss, incredulous.

"She gets to do what she wants," he said with a shrug. "Are you going to tell her 'no'?" No, in fact. I was not.

So that's how I got my name. It fits, more now than it did then, though it took me a while to realize it. A while, and several more encounters, which I'll most likely be telling to you, here, soon. Soon-ish. Yeah.

~ CockSlut

Editor: A. Burns