Desperate Breaths Ch. 02

Her jaw clenched against his thumb as she scowled and practically growled low at him, "Fuck you, you bastard! I swear to you, you'll fucking regret this." She had moved past fear to anger, but her heart was rushing blood to places between her legs. It made her even more angry that her body was responding to this assault, to... him, but her womanhood was not letting her ignore the state it was in. Her entrance was trying to clench down on something that wasn't there, and it made her actually start to ache with an increasingly painful need.

He leaned in close to her slowly, her naked chest pressing up against his shirt. This time she turned her head, but he could see her face flush as his breath started to fall on her cheek. She was expecting a kiss or even something more lewd. When it didn't come, and instead she felt the motion around his hip from Ryan surreptitiously fishing in his pocket, she opened her eyes. It was just in time to see him step back from her with his smartphone already raised and obviously snap several photos of her with her tits on display before she could react. In the next moment he was letting go of her throat and she was covering her chest as modestly as she could with her hands and torn blouse, wide-eyed and now starting to feel fear again in full force.

He was no longer blocking the door, but she didn't even consider running. Her mind had put two and two together far too quickly to try and fight now. He was an IT nerd- no worse than that, he was a Cybersecurity expert, and he was now holding digital pictures of her topless in his hand. Sam had a sudden vision of Geoffry, of her team members, of any horny male idiot she might pass in the hallway opening an email on their phone tonight or on their laptop when they sat down on Monday morning and finding her boobs to greet them. He didn't even have to explain, and the look that passed between their eyes told him so.

The threats she'd just been flinging at him and dreaming up felt like they melted, and so did her courage. This wasn't just going to be him getting his jollies and her ruining the rest of his life for it; she could already imagine the crushing embarrassment of dealing with the men in the office, of always wondering if they'd jerked off over more than just their own personal fantasy of her from now on, and the women would be even worse. The gossip... she was now terrified, and getting that phone away from him was easily a bigger priority than what he'd already done to her.

"You're smart, Samantha," he said coolly, "I'll give you that. I halfway thought I'd have to warn you not to try and run off or maybe have to quickly cover your mouth again to explain, but you clearly already know what I could do with this. So instead of giving you a rundown, how about I pay you the complement of just making sure you have a complete picture: company email, social media, message boards with your name and contact info. The Internet is forever, and it's not just this job where it would follow you. Hell, in some of these you don't even look unwilling!"

She suddenly felt more trapped than when he had been pinning her against the wall, and she couldn't manage looking at him with defiance in her eyes anymore. "Fuck you," she almost whispered as she looked away, not wanting him to hear her voice waiver. Terror was becoming panic as she fought to stay still and not show how affected she was.

He chuckled cruelly, "Good, you get it. We both get our lives ruined if you don't play ball."

That snapped her eyes back to his. She was still refusing to give in, trying to find some card to play, "So what then? You want a fucking blowjob from the office hottie you and your pathetic boyfriends in IT have been ogling from afar? I swear to fuck, you must be practically dickless to need to pull a stunt like this to get some unwilling attention from a woman."

Ryan grinned broadly at the venom she was spewing, then tutted his tongue at her disapprovingly and shook his head, "You're aiming at the wrong places if you want my weak spots, Ms. Perkins, and such language. However, in answer to your question... I don't think I trust your teeth anywhere near anything I'd rather keep." His tone changed abruptly from playful to fully commanding, unquestioned authority, "You will bend over the conference table and put your hands behind you... like a good, well-behaved girl. Don't want to play? We'll see which consequences you respond to more, the ones from my muscles or my digital skillset." He slid the phone into his pocket again, out of any kind of real reach on her part, and started walking past her to his laptop bag. He set it on the table and began going through it without watching her, arrogantly making it clear he just expected her to follow out his orders.

It had been the iron tone of voice that started her body's reactions back up, her breath catching in her throat as he ordered her around, but the sheer fucking cheek of his confidence, even turning his back on her for a moment as he started busying himself with tasks that were suddenly more important than even checking on what she would do, that made her aware that her panties were now actually wet all from her own body. It was an alarming realization too, because it wasn't hard to see where this was going. And she didn't fucking want him to notice and think she wanted this in any way! "What assurance do I have that you'll delete those photos," she began, then wanting to show she already knew his game better than he did, "or at least fucking keep them safe from any prying eyes ever, if I play along with this pathetic fantasy of yours? If I essentially go along with you blackmailing me into letting you get yourself off?"

He ignored the barbs as well as the subtle attempt to get confirmation about his intentions. "None," he answered matter-of-factly as he pulled zip ties out of his bag, "but what choice do you think you have, Samantha? You have until I get everything I need and come around this table to get yourself in position. After that, you'll wish you had been a good girl."

She narrowed her eyes at him, even though he never tried to meet her eyes, and started moving around to the opposite side of the table from him. He has the upper hand, and there's no point fighting it just to make yourself feel better with a moment of defiance, she told herself, trying hard to pretend that it was just logic for to bend over and then carefully let go of her breasts, letting them fall onto the table inside the remnants of her shirt, to put her hands behind her upturned ass in her pencil skirt... and not even the tiniest desire to have this dangerous... strong, brute of a man, show her what he wanted from her and her body.

As he set the items down next to her, she swallowed hard as she saw a handful of large zip ties, a pocket knife, and a jar with a handwritten label that read, simply, "lube". Fuck, oh fuck... this is really about to happen and I can't fucking stop it, her mind raced with her pulse as if they were competing forces. With complete alarm, she realized that part of what she was feeling was excitement. In desperation to find some bit of control, a piece of something she could retreat into as events unfolded around her, she tried to demand her body fall into line, No part of you wants this. This is different from all the fantasies. This is real and I don't even know this bastard. You stupid fucking cunt, I said I don't want this!

When a strong hand grabbed her by the hair and lifted her, back arching, up from the table, though, she felt that thread of hope get closed off as well. Her breath caught in her throat, and she actually wanted to moan for a fraction of a second. It was terrifying and exciting, and immediately made her feel guilty at the same time. There was nowhere to run from him or from her own body, and she was pissed off at both of them for it. In the next moment she felt the remnants of her blouse being pulled down her back and arms before her torso was unceremoniously dropped back onto the table so he could zip tie her wrists together. Cold steel touched her skin next as he cut her bra straps and pulled that away as well. Her skirt had a zipper at the back, right in the center of his view, but it didn't save the garment as even when he had it unzipped, it wouldn't slide over her hips with her bent over the table. She winced and closed her eyes against the cold table surface as she heard the knife cutting the fabric and felt what was left being yanked down her thighs. She had gone deathly still, not wanting to get cut, but now she was even holding her breath as she was now fully exposed, her simple cotton sport thong splitting her cheeks and tucked up against her labia the only shred of modesty she had left. Unbidden, some part of her spoke up with disappointment that she wasn't wearing something... prettier. It made her whimper to have to deal with the fact that any part of her still wanted the attraction of the man violating her in this way.

"Shhhhhh," he cooed at her in response, and she realized with a start that jolted her, that his voice (and his breath) were coming from right between her thighs. She felt warm hands run up from her calves, over her hips, finding the sides of her thong and starting to tug down. Out of instinct and fear, her bound hands grabbed the retreating waistband to try to hold onto her panties. He chuckled at her and yanked them down out of her hands all the way to her ankles. Ryan didn't even give her a moment to consider her newfound nudity. His nose was brushing her labia in the next moment... and pressing into her! With a terrified, embarrassed, and aroused shudder she felt and heard him take a deep sniff of her most intimate spots. She wanted to go numb, but her mind and body were acute with adrenaline and arousal. So she had no way to avoid the full devastation of feeling his nose brushing her cunt and chin brushing her thigh and realizing they were wet with her own arousal. "I had every intention of possessing you and your arousal tonight, Sam, but I did expect that I'd have to work a little harder to get you this wet." His voice had softened and sounded eerily seductive, like velvet.

She wanted a biting comment, something that cut through her embarrassment, panic, anger, loathing, and most of all her excitement to wipe every bit of that soft confidence he was now sporting in his voice away and replace it with rage or something she could dig into and really hate. At that moment she felt like she was in the movie Split and with reckless glee she said, "I'll show you wet," and concentrated for half a moment before she felt it coming. Quickly spreading her legs apart a little, she started to pee right onto him. He jumped up rather quickly, mostly out of surprise, but she had gotten him right in the face, she was almost certain. It almost made the embarrassment of trying to stop when she realized she was now peeing on the carpet worth it.

She was actually smiling to herself for a moment before she heard him chuckle, "If you were counting on that to dissuade me, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed." She turned to look at him standing to the side of her, leaning against the table casually, and found him wiping liquid from his beard and neck and then sucking it from his fingers.

Her smile faded as she realized that wasn't going to get her a reprieve, but it did allow her to reflexively insult him in a low voice, "You fucking freak- OWWWW." He cut her off with a hard open-palmed spank that made every bit of her jiggle. She grunted at him angrily. Past partners had spanked her harder than that, but there was something about that that had felt more vicious than anything she'd felt before. Immediately the adrenaline coursed through her veins, blood rushed to form a hand-print on her ass cheek, and her inner walls pulsed. She lay her head face down on the table and bit her lip, willing herself not to moan and trying to hide in her hair.

"Keep being fucking defiant, Samantha," he said, amused. She heard something moving on the table and looked up to realize the lube jar had been picked up. "It will make me enjoy having everything I want from your body all the more satisfying."

"Wait!" she shouted, desperation overcoming her cool for a moment, "No, just-" Her voice trailed off when she heard his zipper and then a wet sound. She looked back to see him stroking his hard prick, glistening from the lubricant he was spreading on himself. She tried to pull herself up to stand and when that failed because she was top-heavy enough that all Ryan had to do was lightly shove her back down, she tried to roll along the table with her ass wiggling desperately and pleasingly. "I said wait a second damn it! No! Just- AHHHH!!!! FUCK NO!!!!" and this time her voice erupted into screams at him lining up and shoving his dick right into her naked pussy without ceremony as his hands grabbed her hips. What followed could not be described as sex. She could only describe it as being fucked. His hands roamed her body without any restraint. He grabbed her by the hair and throat to pull her up and make her chest bounce for him, and then he grabbed both of her bouncing tits and practically mauled them when that wasn't enough. He grunted in her ear so hard in time with his thrusting hips that she could feel his spittle in them. His cock stretched her open and invaded anywhere it wanted inside her pussy. His thumb pressed against her butt's tight little rosebud, which she could distinctly feel was wet from the combination of his unnecessary lube and the copious amounts of girl juice her pink slit was squishing out every time he shoved his member into her splitting lips. It wasn't a porn-star fast hammering, but it felt more invasive and frenetic than anything she'd experienced, even with her college boyfriend when he had gotten carried away. She had almost no mental space of her own and she was awash in sensations from her body, so she didn't even realize she was moaning until she got loud enough that her brain caught the sound of it. Immediately her voice changed to a whimpering attempt not to sob as she realized just how whorish it had sounded, and that it had been 100% natural. That was what did it. That's when she slumped into his grips and let herself fall or be manhandled into whatever position he dropped her into. That was when she just gave in and let her pussy start to clench down because it genuinely felt good as he pushed into her over and over and over again. When she realized she'd just moaned like a slutty prom date for this asshole, and he had definitely heard it.

She didn't rouse back to herself out of the pleasure fog until she started to hear him grunting and felt him grabbing at her hips. Why the fuck hadn't she realized this before?! He had no reason to hold back! He was going to cum in her! "Wait now, damn it! I'm serious! Ryan! Ryan, fucking listen to me! You CAN'T! YOU CANNOT CUM IN ME! I'M NOT ON ANYTHING FOR FUCK'S SAKE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

He groaned and somehow she just knew that it was because it had turned him on to know that and hear her try to plead with him.

"LISTEN! I swear to you, listen to me! I will file a paternity suit using the most expensive lawyer you could ever imagine! DO. NOT. CUM. IN. ME!"

"Yes, fuck yes! I'm going to cum right in your fucking cunt, slut! I fucking WANT to knock you up and your body wants me to!"

"Ryan please!!!!" she was genuinely desperate now, and yet her body still reacted to him. It was like he had been speaking to her body and not to her with that cocksure, iron-clad voice of determination. Her hips actually lifted for him. Her ass subconsciously bounced and pushed back onto him. Her pussy muscles started rhythmically pulsing for him to get him to drain himself into their waiting walls. She had a sudden vision of his cock pushing forward to her cervix and coating it sticky white. In frantic desperation she yelled, "YOU CAN SHOVE IT IN MY ASS AND CUM!!! I'LL TAKE ALL OF IT THERE OR ON MY FACE OR MY TITS OR DOWN MY THROAT! JUST DON'T CUM IN MY MOTHERFUCKING VAGINA!"

He groaned in deep satisfaction and thrust hard and deep forward. She could feel the spasms against her clit and inner lips. She shook her head and whimpered out, "No.. no no no no. Damn it!" And yet even so, unbidden, her mind imagined his cum pooling up on that inner barrier inside her and soaking through its tiny opening to start to fill her womb. The very thought made her pussy twitch around him, and in spite of his deep groans of satisfaction, Ryan realized it and had the presence of mind to act even in the throes of his own orgasm. Reaching underneath her, with three of his fingers in a row, he started to press down over her rock hard clit and rubbed in circles over it. She shrieked and started begging, "No! No please!!! Stop!!!!" and stamped her feet at the sensitivity, but it was no use. He was determined and he could feel her body on his. More than that, he seemed like he was genuinely good at reading her in that moment, and in a final crowning moment of violation that made Ryan's victory over her complete, Sam felt herself start to cum hard while he was still buried deep in her core and recovering from his own climax.

The next several minutes after the waves of orgasm were a blur for her. He allowed her to collapse down onto the floor, still bound. She could see his movement but she didn't comprehend even simple things like him zipping up his jeans or putting things back into his bag. She felt him pull her up onto him as he knelt behind her and in the next moment her wrists were freed, carefully, by his knife. When she felt him pull her to him and felt him wiping her sex with baby wipes, her addled mind crazily told her, Look how well he's taking care of you... She erupted in half mad laughter that then became tears... which he was inexplicably wiping from her face. That made her furious somehow and she came back to herself, punching him hard in the chest and arms. "GET OFF ME!"

Sam pulled back, away from him, and covered herself with her hands and the tattered remains of her clothes from the floor.

He looked at her for a long moment... and tried not to look hurt. He deserved it and he knew it, just as much as he knew he had made her enjoy it. His voice didn't shake, but it was more matter of fact now. "Listen. The security cameras between here and the stairwell, all the way up to your office are turned off. No one is here. The cleaning crew doesn't show up for," he glanced at his watch, "another hour. You have that long to safely get to your office, even if you walk naked. There will be clothes for you there. Look at me in the eyes and show me you understand what I've just explained to you."

"I don't care what the hell you just said!" she said angrily, her cheeks flushing red and hot, guilt and shame and red hot hate flashing out from her green eyes.

"If you don't show me you know what I've told you, then I will carry you all the way there, kicking and screaming if I have to," he said back calmly.

She considered it, then relented to the feeling of defeat rolling over her yet again like he'd punched her square in the stomach, "You've turned off the damn cameras. There's clothes in my office. Satisfied, you fuck?"

He nodded to her. "Get to your office then," he said, then stood and left the room.

She curled up on the floor when she knew he wasn't coming back and made herself into a ball, staring at the ceiling and refusing to cry. Finally, the numbness had arrived. Far after she needed or wanted it to come, it finally came. She stood up as if she was in a dream and started to pick up her clothes and pull them somewhat back on, though she noted her panties were nowhere to be found. She looked for them for a moment, not wanting someone else to find them, before realizing he had undoubtedly taken them as a trophy. It made her sick. She pulled herself up and took off the heels she was still wearing, inexplicably. "Bet he enjoyed that too," she said sourly to herself, and headed to her office in a haze.