Desperate Breaths Ch. 02

A story for Literotica, by Narwhal_Daddy

Edited by the incomparable sluttybbyg19

*** Disclaimer, Please Read Even If You KNOW You Want to Read This Story ***: This is a work of pure fantasy and involves genuine non-consent as a theme, fantasy examples of threats of physical and psychological harm, and fantasy examples of restraint and bondage without safety measures. Under no circumstances does the author endorse real life scenes where consent has not been given by every party that is involved or where genuine harm is intended by any party. The author is a real-life Dominant who always engages in Risk Aware Consensual Kink and does not engage in, or condone those who do engage in, any play, including non-consent play, where negotiation has not already taken place, consent has not been given, and reasonable safety measures have not been taken. If reading about the kinds of fantasy elements described in this disclaimer are not your cup of tea, you are invited to stop reading here.

All characters are intended to be (well) over the age of 18, and if the reader is not of age to legally read sexually explicit material in their place of residence, please stop reading now. ***

The reminder popped up beside her email client, interrupting Sam's focus on her budget to remind her of her after-hours meeting. She still wasn't exactly sure what it was about, which both concerned and annoyed her, but when the CFO emailed asking for her to specifically deal with whatever the Cybersecurity Manager wanted to discuss with Accounting, she'd replied to leave it to her, of course. One didn't move up to a Senior VP slot by treating any member of the C-suite lightly, especially not the keeper of the keys for the division she was in. She sighed and saved the spreadsheet she was working in before shutting it down, her feet going under the desk and feeling for the reasonable 2.5 inch heels she'd kicked off when she had sat down an hour ago.

Geoffrey doesn't like dealing with IT, and you are going to show that you can take concerns completely off his plate, she told herself, trying to stay positive and avoid the annoyance with this young computer geek and his choice to schedule an after five o'clock meeting on a Friday. An amused smile played at the corner of her mouth as she stood and picked the laptop up out of its docking station. Besides, how hard can this be? Flash a big smile, fidget in my seat a bit and give this guy a little hair flip... In 15 minutes he'll be volunteering to take care of whatever it is himself and he'll even think it was his idea. Sam wasn't sleeping her way to the top by any means, and more than one person found themselves in a dead end cubicle when she'd overheard that implication pass their lips, which oddly seemed more often to come from other women rather than her male coworkers. Maybe the men were more intimidated, or perhaps the women were more apt to get jealous. Still, just because she wasn't going to do any horizontal favors to get ahead, didn't mean she was unaware of the positive attention she got from men, and even some women, nor that she was unwilling to use that to her advantage. She kept her dark brunette hair long and straightened so that it cascaded over her shoulders and would fall into the generous 32D cleavage that her button up office shirts nearly always hinted at without totally giving everything away. She wore pencil skirts and feminine slacks that hugged her 36 inch hips. She might not be petite, but she didn't try to hide the hourglass curves of her 5'4" frame. Right now, in fact, her curves were working every bit of the fast, determined walking pace she was using, as always, in the tight charcoal pencil skirt and white blouse she wore as if her butt, hips and boobs had a mind of their own.

It took her a few minutes of wandering (jiggling all the way) to find the conference room on the floor IT lived on. She didn't come down here that often, and there wasn't a person in sight at 5:30 on a Friday. Her laptop braced on her left arm and her chest, she pushed the door open and was a bit surprised to find the familiar 30-something brown-haired guy in jeans and a blue button-down already there.

"You're late," he said with just the tiniest hint of irritation in his voice that he smothered in a smile that moved his neatly-trimmed beard with the corners of his mouth. It was a simple enough statement, but it managed to throw Sam in spite of herself. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd barely looked up to acknowledge her, and when he had, he'd looked her directly in the eyes without scanning her body. Not to mention he'd taken the initiative to break any potential silence, and did so with a statement of disapproval. It just wasn't at all how she had expected the first 30 seconds to go. When she felt a tinge of warmth start to rise in her cheeks and realized she was actually a little flustered, though, she immediately talked herself back.

Get a hold of yourself! she chided and re-routed her instincts, You RUN the finance division of this company. Do NOT open with an apology.

"Well someone decided to schedule a meeting with me after hours, on a Friday, in a part of the building I have not explored much." she stated flashing a big smile and trying to turn things subtly flirtatious. He was still a young computer nerd... and he was still a guy. She knew how to lead guys just where she wanted them; she'd been doing it her whole life. Setting her laptop down in front of the seat across from him, Sam slid into the high-backed conference room chair like she was pouring herself into it, crossing one leg over the other and making the hem of her skirt flash a little bit of thigh at him before she pulled the seat in closer to the table. "You're lucky I'm not halfway to Margaritaville right now."

Instead of returning her smile, he raised one eyebrow at her over the top of his own laptop screen, cocking his head at her and locking steely blue eyes on hers rather than on her body. For the briefest moment, actual concern slipped through Sam's head as she considered the fact that he was specifically with Cybersecurity and that this may have been something along the lines of an interrogation with a police officer rather than a business meeting; everything about his body posture seemed prickly. But then he cracked. It was only a momentary flash, so short she almost questioned if she'd actually seen it, but just at the corner of his lips there was a slight tick upwards with a touch of a curl. Got him, she thought, and tried to ignore the way her breath seemed to have gotten away from her.

"Ryan, isn't it?" she prompted when he didn't immediately explain what this was about.

It was a good tactic, and he noticed, being the one to break the silence while putting the onus back on him to reciprocate. "That's right," he relented, sitting back in his chair and leaning on one of the arms as casually as he could manage given what he was thinking, "Good memory. I think it's been two months since we first crossed paths."

"Right, you helped me out when your virus scanner thing was blocking my software update, wasn't it?" she toyed with him in response, continuing on to the matter at hand before he had a chance to be defensive, "So what exactly am I doing here instead of getting a head start on a weekend hangover?"

He didn't let any annoyance show. Everyone hated security. It came with the job description, and besides which, he knew that she was trying to get a little under his skin. "Yeah, sorry to delay your self-induced headache," he volleyed back, "but I needed someone in finance to start a conversation with about some sorely needed governance in your processes. I mean, everyone here knows it's a bit of the Wild West when it comes to access, but we're getting big enough now that we can't simply keep rolling how we have been."

Ah, so here we go, she thought to herself. Reorganization and locking down who could see what was something everyone agreed needed to be done, but no one wanted to be saddled with. Alright, buddy, you want to stick your nose into the hornet's nest? Time to make sure it's clear who the workhorse will be. She mirrored his last words to make him feel important and listened to, "We definitely can't keep rolling how we have been, you're right." Men were so easy. Just play the agreeable card and give them a little eye candy and light flirting, then show them how the world really works. They all answered to a pair of tits at the end of the day. "The challenge there, really, is that nobody outside of IT has any visibility into where all the data is or who has access to it," she explained, making sure to toss her hair as she got to the next point, "But I'm sure that's something you could handle, right? If you could get that together and make it presentable in some way, I'm sure I could get my team to go over it with you." She smiled brightly and blinked at him quickly, "I think that's the best starting place on this, and I agree it's sorely needed."

His eyes narrowed and his lips broadened into a smile as he lightly huffed in amusement through his nostrils. "Damn," he said, actually impressed, "I bet that works almost 100 percent of the time for you too. Pretty subtle, though the hair toss was maybe a bit over the top. You do it so damn naturally, though, I bet most men never even notice it's a move. We're clearly wasting your talents in finance. Geoffrey ought to have you working on our mergers and acquisitions. You could probably rob almost anybody blind and they'd be happy to watch you sail off with their fortune. I doubt it works as well on women, but something tells me you're the queen bee type that knows how to make every woman in the room want to fall in line and get a shot at being your new bestie."

It was wildly direct, thoroughly inappropriate, but also hit a little close to the mark for her, at least when it came to how she'd just been handling him. She was so stunned that she only managed to respond with a bewildered, "Excuse me?" as her cheeks and neck flushed red all the way down to her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. Anger was quickly following on the heels of the shock she was feeling, but he had her momentarily on the verbal ropes.

"Oh I doubt you missed a word I just said, Ms. Perkins," he answered, keeping the initiative and trying to throw her off balance with politeness that didn't fit with the coarse direction his words were heading, "You're just surprised I actually said it. Maybe you're only trying to play me this way because you think I come from the land of the IT nerds and I'm a safe mark, but somehow I think you use those skills almost recklessly, and maybe have another bag of tricks ready to threaten anyone who gets too many ideas with a trip to HR. Let me assure you, though," Ryan stood from his chair and began to circle the table, looking her in the eye the entire way, "today you've erred grievously. You've tried to get around the wrong person, and you've used the wrong tactic to do it." He reached the end of the table, near the conference room door, and Sam could feel a rising nagging feeling she'd never felt at a workplace: fear. With it, unwelcome, she could also feel a thrill of excitement run up her spine. Her mind was moving too fast now as he spoke, and her internal dialogue was something of an argument, at once recognizing that she was now in a small room, with very few, if any, people around, and that the man she was in the room with was someone far more sinister and dangerous than she'd realized. At the same time her mind was arguing with her that what was clearly happening was impossible, that she must somehow be reading this wrong. He was just a computer geek and maybe too anti-social to understand how he was coming off. He was a manager with a good job and worked in a field that showed he was too smart to try something that could easily end his career, not to mention his freedom. Frozen by confusion, she hadn't even gotten up from the table as his hand reached not for the door handle, but for the lock, turning it closed with a click as he finished speaking, "All you've really done, Ms. Perkins, is pissed me off and made me feel emboldened... and entitled... to do what I was always going to do to you in this meeting."

Her heart was pounding. The click of the lock still rang in her ears and for an almost comedic-length pause they both just stared at each other. Then everything happened at once as Sam's brain accepted the truth of the danger and shouted at her, YOU'RE STILL IN THE FUCKING CHAIR! She jumped up, knocking the rolling chair backwards as he rushed her from the door. There wasn't much within arms reach, but she threw her laptop at him and kicked the next chair in line into his path to try to stay his onslaught. Ryan batted the laptop down with a clatter on the hard carpeting as the screen broke away from the base, but the chair hit him mid thigh as he was running her down and he stumbled. She almost didn't register that her attack had worked in time, but as he was still between her and the door, the fastest way out was either going to be around the table or over it. She didn't even think as she rolled herself over the table, almost losing a heel in the process. More rolling chairs scattered, and she was nearly hyperventilating, trying to get out words to call for help, as she tried to swim through them to the door. Her hand closed on the lock just as the room was pierced by the sound of a panicked scream that she realized was coming from her and she was grabbed from behind by her hair, "HELLLLLLPPP-." The sound ended abruptly as she was twisted around and a hard hand closed over her mouth. Ryan slammed her against the near wall, knocking the breath out of her as he tried to pin her with his body.

Unable to bite at his hand, panic turned to anger in Sam's eyes as she realized she was caught, silenced, and the only thing between her and whatever this man was going to do was now herself. Her hands flew up separately, one to his throat and face, the other to the hand covering her mouth, and she dug her claws into any flesh she could find that wasn't her own. He only grunted, but it was enough of an opening for her to try to jam her knee into his groin. He was ready for that, though, and turned his hip into her and slammed it against her abdomen. It was her turn to grunt, but her nails dug in with rage. Bright red started to trickle over her fingers from his cheek and his wrist. He winced and grimaced, but he didn't move or fight her hands, just maintaining his pin on her as he looked her directly in the eyes. "If you don't stop that by the time I count to 3, you're going to be very badly hurt," he said, and it wasn't even the meaning in the words that really scared her so much as the deadly calm way he delivered them. That's what really made her feel helpless, that she was hurting him as much as she could and he was still completely in control of himself... and her body. That thought made her body betray her as she felt her thighs involuntarily clench.

"Make up your mind," he warned with a tone of finality, "One... Two..."

She had absolutely no doubt that he meant what he said, and the reality that he might knock her out cold occurred to her as she quickly released her grips but didn't move her hands.

"Good girl," he said condescendingly and challengingly, practically daring her to push him.

Her eyes burned with rage and hate, but she didn't rise to the bait at the moment. They both seemed to be quickly evaluating each other and the situation, both knowing she was waiting for an opening to try to do something and that he obviously wanted her in a more vulnerable position. The only sound for a moment was her hard breath falling over his hand from her nostrils as they both made their calculations. Her green eyes watched and locked onto his steel blue ones.

He smiled at her wickedly and chuckled through his nose, "Well, Ms. Perkins, quite a situation we have here..." Hopefully the bravado was covering the way his heart was pounding against his ribcage. He was well past the point where nervousness could have stopped the things that he had set in motion. There was no real way but forward, he told himself, but still it was as terrifying as it was thrilling to actually choose and commit to doing this. "I could give you the cliche 'easy way or the hard way' speech, but I suppose I already know there's no way I'm going to get the easy way from you, now is there?" She didn't seem amused.

He needed a hand free. One was over her mouth, keeping her silent, and the other was at her shoulder, helping to pin her. He leaned his weight into his hip to hold her still and she growled from behind his hand at the painful squeezing pressure. He let go of her shoulder slowly and let her watch and feel as that hand slid up her blouse and over her collar bone. She grunted displeasure, partially to cover the way her body shuddered in response to this far too intimate touch. Her body and her mind were not on the same page about this whole situation. Slowly his hand slid over the exposed skin at the front of her blouse, but just when she was bracing herself for him to take a try at groping her cleavage, she felt his fingers trail upward and curl slowly and oddly carefully around her throat. She almost jumped at the tickle and the unexpected change of direction. Sam could feel the strength in his fingers (and this close to his forearm she could see the strength in the definition of the muscle below his rolled up sleeve) as he slowly opened and then closed his fingers around her neck and throat without choking her. She tried to argue with her body, but she could practically feel hormones flooding her brain as it reacted to being held in this way by someone who seemingly had the means and the willingness to truly control her with such a simple hold.

"Now, I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth and you can scream if you like, but you can probably guess you're going to lose oxygen privileges if you try that," he said in a voice so low it practically invited her to lean in to hear him. Sam tried to pretend she didn't feel twitching below her waist, narrowed her eyes at him, and nodded her understanding.

As soon as he lifted his hand off her mouth, she began talking through the pain his grip had left in her jaw muscles, "Listen to me... Ryan, you don't need to do this. Surely you don't want to do this? Look, I can be reasonable here. No harm's really been done yet. If you let me go, I will let this go, okay? We'll pretend it never happened and just never speak of it again." To Ryan it sounded like she'd temporarily abandoned physical warfare in favor of diplomacy and negotiation. This was considerably more difficult to deal with for him in its own way. Even though he could feel her trembling under his grip (something he was misinterpreting as pure fear), her eyes didn't look afraid. She was too practiced at this kind of control of people, and particularly, he felt sure, of men.

"I can't say that's not a fair offer," he smiled at her and tried to cover his own nerves by leaning in close to her, noting that she froze but didn't think to turn away in disgust, and instead of taking her lips or giving her a creepy lick on the cheek, took a deep sniff of her neck and hair. Letting out a sigh that sounded contented, but partially was a calming technique for himself, "The problem is that you're wrong. I do very much want to do this, and a part of me very much needs to do this." It was time to stop fucking around.

As he lifted his eyes back to hers, his now freed hand dropped below its brother at her neck and immediately grabbed the front of her blouse, yanking with every bit of force he had to spare beyond that of his body pin on her hips. The garment gave way easily and she heard one of her buttons hit the conference table. His eyes never left hers, and her face tightened in defiance, refusing to allow a blush to happen as he began to expose her. One of her hands was still up on his neck and she gave a half-hearted but constant shove of pressure, hoping that it wouldn't result in a serious reaction, but would express to him that she didn't want what he was doing. Her other hand balled into a fist and pressed back against the wall at her side. She really did feel helpless as his hand found the front of her bra and pulled it roughly upwards to expose her tits. They fell and bounced in what felt to her was a far too visually pleasing tit drop, which felt like a betrayal on her body's part as well, even if Ryan didn't watch it happen because the blue eyes were still glued to the green ones.