Friday Is Supposed to Be a Good Day

This is a follow up to my other story "A Hard Day". I'm not likely to write any more with these characters. I'm fairly uncomfortable with the power dynamic. I've tried to put in as much consent as I can, but there's still too much non-consent for my tastes.

But other than that, I think they're both pretty good stories.

Friday is supposed to be a good day, everyone said so. The work week was over, and the weekend would be full of happy hours, late night clubs, afternoon barbecues, Netflix and chill, Tinder swiping, brunch, church socials, and activities galore. Your co-workers spent the three hours between noon and around two talking about it, and then left early to get a head start on their exciting plans.

You had nobody to do any of these things with, couldn't stand the thought of Tinder or other random hookups, couldn't get fast enough internet to stream anything, and otherwise had a weekend full of chores and doing desperate math to out how to balance payments for all the bills you can't afford; all intermixed with periods of soul-crushing nothing to do.

You knew your boss wouldn't normally let you leave before the official end of day, at 5:00. But you'd seen him leave the building with a crowd of other people at around 2:30. You let a tiny bit of hope seep into your heart while you ground away at the monthly profit/loss report. The report itself shouldn't have taken very long, but you could never get the data from the finance department on time, and you always had to spend several hours turning the data into something useful.

At 4:45, this tiniest bit of hope was ground under the heel of his body odor and the cheap cologne that he used too liberally. He loomed over you in your cubicle and snapped "Stop being so lazy. I need you to do a quarterly report on all our inventory broken out by day and individual SKUs. I need to see it in my email tonight!".

He leaned in closer to your face wearing a spiteful grin "And get it right! I'm not going to spend my personal time fixing your mistakes!" His breath reeked of onions and bad alcohol choices.

It took you ten minutes to calm yourself after he stormed off, and another ten minutes before his smell cleared enough that you could breathe.

This report was straightforward, you could get access to the data in a usable form without relying on anyone else. But he was asking for a report covering thousands of items over 90 days. You finally finished up by 9:30 pm and slumped your way home. The tiredness filled your body; your brain buzzed from trying to keep focus on that many numbers for that amount of time; you missed the last bus home and had to walk 11 blocks to your apartment.

At least the elevator and the AC were working.

You stepped into your apartment. It was dark, but your senses flared into life by the smell of smoke, leather, and salt. It had been five weeks since the incident in the stairway, but you knew that it was him. Your hands shook a little bit; but your face flushed, and your nipples started hardening and tingling.

A light turned on. He was sitting on your couch next to an end table; still immaculately dressed; still emanating a combination of charm, sex, dominance, and masculinity.

He said, in a low and deep tone, "Turn on the lights" -- you did. Looking him over, you noticed that although his cloths were still clean and sharply pressed, he was wearing work boots, and rugged pants. He still wore a business casual shirt, but he was also wearing a tie.

You kept your hands from trembling, but your heart did a quick rat-tat-ta-ta-tat.

On the coffee table in front of him -- on coasters -- were an empty wine glass, a bottle of red wine, and large pitcher of ice water.

"Have a glass of wine". It wasn't exactly a request, but you wouldn't have refused it no matter what. With the day you'd had, if he weren't here, you would have rushed into the kitchen and poured a full glass of cheap wine to calm down before you crawled into bed.

Trying to keep steady, you walked over, opened the bottle, and started pouring.

"Stop".

Your glass was less than half full. Inside, your heart sank. You took your glass and started walking toward the side chair.

"You aren't allowed to sit. Drink your wine."

You took a sip -- it must have been an expensive cabernet. It was rich and tasted of blackberries, spice, and a bit of tobacco. You'd never had wine this good before. You drank the rest of it in three swallows.

You wanted to pour another glass, but he was staring into your eyes with a force and intensity that matched the wine.

"Say yes."

You stammered a bit, "Yes".

"Say Yes, I submit".

Your voice became sweet and sultry, "Yes, I submit".

"Say Yes, I submit and will obey completely".

"Yes, I submit and will obey completely" you moaned.

"Good Girl. Put the wine glass on the table and take off all your clothes".

You nearly ripped the buttons in your blouse and the clasp on your bra getting undressed.

He stood up and approached you. He wore a leonine grin as he bathed you with his gaze. He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you around. After a short pause, he turned you back to face him.

*Smack* *Smack*. He slapped both of your breasts, swinging his hands with the force of a tennis racket. Your nipples screamed in pain, but your whole body flushed with your desire, and you could feel your clitoris start to swell.

He pushed you to your knees and undid his belt and pants. You hadn't seen his cock last time. It wasn't fully erect but looked thick and long.

"Serve me."

You leaned forward and engulfed the head of his cock. You took more in as you swirled your tongue back and forth along the bottom. When your mouth was full and your lips were up against his pelvis, you squeezed your lips around him as tightly as you could. Then you alternated between pulling the air into your lungs and pushing it back out without letting it leave your mouth.

Hands reached down and grabbed your nipples. His fingers pinched very tightly and then he pulled hard. He let them snap back against you and then started powerfully flicking them with his thick fingers.

Just before you ran out of air, you felt his cock start to swell and throb. He pushed your head away from him, leaving you to fall back on the floor gasping for breath. Looking down at you with a smug look in his eye, "Good girl."

He picked you up and carried you to kitchen table and laid you on your back with your knees dangling over the edge. He took off the rest of his clothes. He had strong shoulders and a body that matched. His arms were muscled but not bulked, his chest and abs left you panting, and his legs looked like he could lift a car engine.

Stepping forward, he spread your legs and then put them over his shoulders. His cock was as hard as his abs, throbbing a bit and looked to be 7 inches long. You ached to engulf it. Your pussy felt full of lightning and was dripping. Your whole body was spread out before him, he could see the flush on your face, the stiffness of your nipples, the fullness of your pussy lips and protruding clit.

"Please", you whispered, "please fuck me".

His face went flat. "You will obey."

He suddenly jammed three fingers into your pussy and started slamming them back and forth until your gasps of pain turned into moans of pleasure. Then he pulled them out and rubbed your wetness over your asshole.

You whispered again -- "I submit".

He gracefully slid his middle finger into your ass and rubbed your clit with his other hand. You made small sighing noises that grew in volume and pleasure as he continued to thrust in and out of your ass and rub your clit.

You felt your orgasm coming like a hurricane across the ocean, but he pulled his hands away.

"Stay there, and don't move".

He stepped away back into the living room. You heard him pick up a phone and have a quiet conversation.

He came back in the room, said "Greg is ready", and threw you over his shoulders.

Your apartment was at the back of the building and overlooked a dank alley. There was a fire escape ladder, but the stairs between floors were twisted, rusted, and falling off. He walked to the window that went out onto the fire escape.

He set you down and opened the window. "Out."

You climbed out, trying not to scratch yourself on the window. The alley stank of old garbage, and the air was humid and sticky. You saw a towel draped across the railing of the fire escape landing. You felt his presence as he climbed out the window behind you. He pushed you forward and put your hands on the towel. Again, he used his leg to spread you open. You shivered in anticipation as he put his other leg in between you. You felt his cock start to stroke along your pussy, getting wet from your juices.

You breathed out a sigh of relieve as he eased into you. You felt every inch of his cock and the fullness of its girth. He slid in and out slowly a few times, and then moved into a rhythm of moving back and forth forcefully a few times and then slamming into you hard. You gasped out air every time he pushed hard. Your gasps turned into elongated moans and then into a constant wailing. The railing was rocking back and forth and creaking. If it broke, you weren't sure that you would be able to tell if you were falling or having the colossal orgasm you felt rising through your body.

He seemed to know you were about to come. He pulled out, and roughly pulled you back to a standing position. "Look up". You saw a man about three floors above you on the fire escape of the building next door. He was naked and masturbating. "That's Greg. He's going to help us tonight."

He turned you around to face him, and then lifted you up by your ass. He moved you around a bit until his cock was buried deep in you again. You moaned like someone stepping into a hot tub after a long day. He walked forward away from the building and sat you down on the towel.

He put one hand between your shoulder blades, and then pushed you backwards with the other. You ended up lying flat with your legs wrapped around his waist and your naked torso leaned out over the empty space of the alley. He had one hand supporting your lower back and the other holding you up between your shoulder blades. You could see Greg above you, still masturbating.

He said, "Watch your aim, Greg". He started fucking you again, with the same rhythm of firm strokes followed by deep and hard slams. You lost yourself between the smell of cologne, the stink of the alley, the feeling of his cock, and the fear of being held over a 4 story drop only by a rickety iron railing and the hands of the man who possessed you.

You couldn't wail anymore, the only thing that came out was primal yelling. Suddenly you felt something wet land on your face. You opened your eyes. Greg was in the middle of an orgasm, and his cum was falling three floors onto you. The rhythm of the cock filling you changed to a steady and fast paced thrusting.

You felt every part of your body roar with the pleasure of the orgasm that now erupted from you. You couldn't even tell if you were screaming, yelling, wailing, or doing all three. As you came back to your senses, you felt his hand move out from your lower back.

*Smack* *Smack*. The shock of him slapping your breasts radiated out from your nipples and through the rest of your body, igniting another world-shaking orgasm. You didn't pass out, but you were so dazed that you didn't really feel him pull you back onto the fire escape. You didn't feel his cock withdraw and barely noticed that he turned you around and told you to climb back into your apartment through the window.

You felt him guide you back your small living area.

"Kneel".

You were recovered enough to do that and noticed that his cock was still erect and was damp from your orgasms.

You suddenly jerked and came out of your daze with cold water running down your hair and body. He had dumped the pitcher of ice water over you. You were wet and shivering and ecstatic and worn out.

"Serve me". You were kneeling in front of him and his glorious cock. You knew you didn't have the strength or breath to do what you had done before, but you engulfed him fully. He groaned. You bobbed your head back and forth, covering his cock with your saliva until it was as wet and slimy as your pussy felt.

You eased your mouth back until you only had about a third of his cock still in your mouth. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft and started pumping it. You moved your mouth in rhythm with your hand, sliding back and forth while sucking and swirling your tongue over his shaft.

"That's right, work my cock, show me your obedience."

You tasted a little bit of precum; you started moving faster. He groaned again. Your other hand went between his legs to pull on his balls. His hips thrust forward. Then you took your hand off his balls, and ran your fingers along and into your pussy, shuddering at how sensitive it was.

Keeping your mouth and one hand working his cock, you rubbed your newly lubricated fingers over his asshole and started circling it. He moaned again. You pushed one finger in and curved it around to push on his prostate. He grunted and moaned. You felt his cock swell even more and twitch. You rubbed his prostate faster and tightened your grip on his cock with your other hand. You sped up sucking and stroking him.

He started making noises like a gorilla threatening a rival -- "Urhh Urhh".

You went faster.

He roared out like a lion and exploded in your mouth. You pulled your finger out of his ass but kept working his cock with your hand and mouth. He grunted and groaned a few more times, spewing more cum into your mouth. Then his cock softened a bit. He pushed your head away from him. You started to stand up, but he put his hand on your shoulder holding you down.

"Don't move".

He went into the bathroom; you heard water running as he cleaned himself. He came back out and got dressed.

You stayed where you were: on your knees, naked, drenched with ice water and a stranger's cum, and juices dripping from your overused pussy.

He went to the door, then turned back to look at you.

"Good girl. You did well. You can keep the wine."

He walked out the door, and you heard it lock behind him.