It Only Takes a Week to Break Her

Author's note: A story written and dedicated to a special someone in my life. You always inspire my thoughts and steer them wild. Thank you for bringing out the best (and worst) in me.

==Monday==

Day in day out, the same old grind.

Life for Elaine had taken a different tone of colours of late. The sort of dull monochrome that settled upon everything like soot and ages old dust, blanketing the world with a sense of dreariness. It wasn't so much that she hated her life; her recent appointment to secretary at a high paying firm meant that money wasn't so much of an issue these days. But there was always a trade off with these things: the never ending tasks that rained down upon her from management, expecting her to always deliver her very best. For a secretary, that meant buttoned up blouses and blazers and pencil skirts; stockings and heels and belts.

Corporate was very clear on dress code.

It also meant an unceasing devotion to paperwork. The kind that Elaine would have loved to have been able to push aside at the end of the work day when she stepped through the door of the apartment she shared with her long term boyfriend and into his arms. The sort of man that would help her forget the drudgery of a career when he pushed her down onto his bed, parted her legs and thrust deep into her, whispering embarrassing things into her ear until her satisfaction washed over her like a security blanket lulling her to a perfect evening ahead.

"Babe, I got us takeout tonight." She frowned when she heard his voice from the living room.

"You promised we'd go out to dinner."

"Ah yeah, sorry bout that. It's just that the game's on tonight and..."

She drowned out the rest of his words. They never really meant anything beyond being an excuse to slack off again. She headed for the kitchen, a sealed plastic container of fried noodles sitting on the counter waiting for her. The drab grey colours of her world spun around in her vision, threatening to overwhelm her.

"Hey uhh...if you're not too hungry we could just..."

She turned her head in his direction. He stood there, leaning against the door, erection hanging out from the waistband of his boxers, wearing a shitfaced grin.

"Could use some of that pussy before the game starts."

She sighed, too tired to argue, as she let him lead her back into the living room and onto the couch. The same tired old routine played out then; one where she'd find her panties being tugged down while he positioned his cock against her pussy, thrusting it in with a satisfied groan. It always hurt a little, in her dried state. She'd stretch to accommodate him, his hands around her chest, grabbing her by her nipples in a half-hearted attempt to tease her. He was always proud of that one. "Is it good?" He'd ask to an equally half-hearted nod, moments before the inevitable "I'm cumming!" where he let himself go inside her, panting and moaning as he dribbled his cum between her legs, letting her go as he collapsed in a pool of his own self, recovering.

"That was great, wasn't it?"

She mumbled a response, before getting up to the bathroom to wash herself off.

==Tuesday==

It was 4pm when she got the email. More work, she groaned to herself as she opened it. An extension to a presentation due Friday that her boss had requested of her. The details were with the Upper Manager for Logistics. Putting her best face forward, she made her way to his office. They always expected as much from their staff. 'Nothing you wear is more important than your smile' was one of many motivational posters that dotted the hallways and corridors of the building every few meters, encouraging positive behaviour and attitudes. It was also the sort that drew inappropriate laughter from executives behind closed meeting doors among peers while alliterations of naked smiling interns serving coffee were tossed about casually.

Tom sat in his glass room, arms folded as he reclined in his chair. Situated in the back of the Logistics Department, it was the sort of open office concept that management had always striven for; transparent in every way, accessible to all. These days, most executives preferred their walls frosted over, the contents hidden in a cube of safety. The younger ones like himself, tended towards a bolder form of management. "Elaine. Good to have you. Sit, sit." He offered as she stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"I'll be frank. There's quite a bit to get done." He turned his laptop around to face her, a set of slides earmarked, with notes and comments and addendums peppering the fringes. Elaine did her best not to let her smile slip. "You'll be working nights. Dinner will be catered, not to worry. Half the office will be tied up after hours as it is."

For a moment, the world seemed a little less grey and a little more black.

"Sir, I...I have to be honest, this is really too sudden. I have someone waiting for me at home."

It wasn't a lie. She did have someone waiting at home. Someone that, despite his faults, she loved dearly. Someone who was always pleased to see her, if not necessarily excited. Someone who could always use her around.

Use her.

"Husband?" Tom leaned back, hands stretched above him. "Hopefully he'll understand that you sometimes have to sacrifice in order to move on in this industry."

Pitch black.

"Now don't go frowning like that." The words cut through her bleak thoughts. Had she lost her smile? She reached up to her face, cheeks wet. Had the pressure really gotten to her that badly? She felt the stirring of shame welling up inside of her as she fought a fresh batch of tears from dripping past the hazel fringes of her hair and onto her lap. "That wasn't meant to be a threat. Here now." He reached into his pocket drawing out a handkerchief for her. "There's no pressure to accept. If you can't do it, I'll just find someone who can. No hard feelings. Go take some time to think about it, and let me know before the end of the day."

Remorseful, she kept her face low as she thanked him and left, hurrying to the washroom to freshen up. What a disgrace! She didn't mean to let it out like that. She spent the next ten minutes fixing her smudged mascara while she let her thoughts calm, taking the time to think things through. She thought about the home she'd be coming back to; the same routine that had remained unchanged for months now as they grew more and more comfortable in their relationship. This was an opportunity for a change.

Making up her mind, she dialed her boyfriend. She'd have to let him know she'd be late.

==Wednesday==

For the first time in a long while, her world was coloured again.

The day went by in a blur. She hadn't had much time to slow down and think since accepting the task yesterday. She barely had any recollection of yesterday as it were. Only that Tom had been very pleased to have her on board. That she had still been sitting at her desk, working furiously away at the document as colleagues began shutting down their computers and heading home. She remembered the sun dipping down past the skyline of buildings that made up the view from the 23rd floor of their office, stars lighting up the night sky beyond. She remembered the lights dimming, the bare minimum kept on to support the skeleton staff left behind to finish up any urgent work that was left. She remembered piling a plate full of shrimp fried rice and wings from the catering table to eat at her desk while she continued to work. She remembered Tom summoning her to his room to check on her progress. And then...

And then what?

However hard she struggled to remember, it wasn't coming back. Like a dream, fading into the mists after a shower and a nice warm breakfast. Had she even had breakfast? The memories were all lost to her now.

More than that, she was aware of a dull throbbing between her legs. A sensation she had not been familiar with since she was twelve and she had happened across her dad's stash of pornographic magazines. The pictures of adult men railing women was a thing of wonder. She remembered the school kids saying that it felt good when you rubbed yourself when you watched that sort of thing. It never amounted to more than a tingle.

This was like that but ten times stronger. Her boyfriend had never made her feel this way, something she had grown to accept as a simple fact of her relationship. It was like a headache that wouldn't go away, except it didn't hurt. In fact, it invigorated her. As if the shadows had lifted from her shoulders, freeing her from the burden of her monotone existence. The work was hard, yes, but there was something else. A satisfaction from grinding through it all, she imagined. Yes that must have been it. That and that pleasant feeling that had her quivering in her thighs. She squeezed them together and the resulting shock made her giddy. She refrained from doing it again, at least for the rest of the afternoon.

Night came again and she was still working on the file, her empty dinner plate set aside as she fleshed out slide after arduous slide. At 9:30pm, sure as clockwork, the mail came in, the ding from her computer like a bell that echoed in her head, bringing with it a familiarity close to her. She remembered this tone, she thought to herself. Time to check in with the Logistics Manager.

The office wasn't empty. It never seemed to be, the cogs of industry constantly chugging along towards an inscrutable goal that only senior management could appreciate. Cubicles remained lit up, desk lamps providing light for the few who remained at this hour to work on whatever projects they had lined up. Tom's office was one of those, the glass box illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs installed overhead. He was waiting.

"I came, just as you asked me to," Elaine said. She felt cheered by being here. Like it was where she belonged after all after a hard day's work. A reward waiting for her at the very end of a journey.

"That's my good girl," he quipped. Good girl? The words both confused and sent a rush of adrenaline through her, like a drug through her system. His voice was velvety, like silk passing through water. Did he always sound like this?

She felt her breath grow quick and shallow, as if in anticipation.

"Now, remember what we discussed yesterday?" No. She couldn't remember. She barely remembered today, so steeped in her work as she was. Yet a part of her seemed to remember as the dream came rushing back, a hidden memory jogged by the right words. The right indications.

"Nothing you wear is more important than your smile"

She recited those words from heart, a smile blossoming in her face. Genuine as it was fresh. She hadn't felt this fresh in a long time. A wave of euphoria swept through her, electrifying her skin as the thought of what she was about to do set her follicles standing to attention.

"Good. Then strip for me."

She didn't bat an eyelid. Hands compliantly went to the buttons of her white blouse, slipping them off one after the other. Fingers slipped the hook on her tiny waist belt out and off, letting it pile on the floor as she unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. Panties and bra followed and soon, she was naked but for her stockings and heels, her long, straight hair falling along her shoulders, just short of the rise of her chest, small but firm. Her nipples were already standing to attention, a fact that she had pointedly ignored through the day as her body remained in a semi constant state of arousal. She stepped out of the mess of clothing, uselessly discarded on the carpet. For a brief moment, anyone who had looked up from their work would have seen her standing there in the manager's room, dressed in nothing but her skin and shoes. Her smile was unwavering.

He rose from his chair.

"Come take my seat."

===

Seated where she was now, she was afforded some sense of dignity. They wouldn't be able to see unless they walked by. Walked by and looked in and found a pile of women's clothing while a secretary sat in a manager's chair, eyes rolling into her head as he knelt beneath the desk, his tongue sliding in and out of her sopping wet pussy while she trembled with pleasure. She had never been this wet before; each time that tongue slid out and into her depths, it was all she could do to hold back a moan. But he had told her to be quiet; a good, quiet girl like she should be, and so she sat in silence, letting the sensations wash over her as he licked her, red hot serotonin building in her brain until she was certain she'd die from an overdose.

"T-Tom I...I can't..." she whispered, a guttural voice she never knew she had begging him to stop. To stop or what? She didn't know what came after being tipped over the edge. Only that her boyfriend always looked immensely satisfied when he was done. The idea frightened her, and she squirmed in her seat, thighs closing against the sides of his head.

"You can't what?" He murmured. Every time he spoke, something in her broke just a little more. It was like poison seeping into her ears, thick and sweet like toxic honey. His words twisted her brain stems, warping her will around his own little a marionette and his doll. A little bit of her woke up then, struggling against her bonds, screaming at her to wake up. The memory of her relationship tugged at the invisible bonds holding her down urgently. The face of her boyfriend. She breathed through her lips.

"P-please...stop this..."

And then she felt it. A towering will imposed against her own, battering it into submission. His eyes dove into her own, a piercing raven shade that held her wide open, seeing all that she was, is and ever could have been. It judged her, and held her down against him.

"There now," his voice however had an opposite sort of effect. If his eyes were a spear, then his voice was a shield, protecting her from harm. It soothed you like a stream flowing through your head, multiple meanings echoing inside of her as it lulled you into a sense of security. "You don't want me to stop now, do you?"

It really was a difficult decision. Every lick from his tongue drove her closer to insanity. But it was the type of insanity that came with release. A release from this torture, she was sure. She felt it heavy inside of her, desires flowing out thick and creamy between her legs as the idea of being made to cum in a manager's chair filled Elaine's head. She stifled a moan as that tongue grazed her clit, already hard and throbbing from the constant attention. She felt her toes curl deliciously in her heels, back arching as she thrust her chest forward, hips rising desperately to meet his touch. She couldn't let this happen. She simply couldn't. But did she really have a choice?

She felt it throbbing. That sensation she had grown familiar with over the course of the day reigniting her urgent need. She could feel it flowing out from somewhere deep inside her, wanting to burst out. So much more than what she was leaking out now. So much thicker.

Just a little more...just a little more...

And then it was over. He rose from where he sat, leaving her as confused as she started and twice as horny. "We'll continue again tomorrow," he said as he walked out the door. "Same time as usual."

==Thursday==

It was getting difficult to focus.

Elaine sat at her desk, eye lashes batting with unusual frequency. It was all she could do to stabilise her attention span long enough to get anything done today. None of it was going very well either. The past 45 minutes she had spent just staring at a slide, wondering how to amend it according to her Logistics Manager's instructions while she stifled the throbbing between her legs.

It was a constant companion to her day now. A burning, aching need deep inside of her that kept her on the edge of her seat in her cubicle. Those memories of yesterday were only half as blurry now, the eternally pulsing rhythm of her heart and her pussy seemingly synchronised as one, evoking impressions that Tom had buried deep in her head and locked away with a key of his words. They leaked through the spaces in her head that had been sealed away from her now, visions of her own nude figure splayed out across a chair, heels digging into the carpet as his tongue penetrated her again and again replaying in her mind, causing her to leak in an entirely different and inappropriate way. Her chair was already a mess, the cushion soaked through from the rivulets of honey that wouldn't stop dripping from her thighs. It was a good thing she wasn't wearing any panties.

And that was a problem in itself. Why wasn't she wearing any panties? She didn't recall making a conscious decision to go without today. She didn't have a bra on either, her puffy nipples pressing against the fabric of her blouse, just begging to be seen by anyone to paid too close of attention to her plight. And so she kept herself sequestered away at her desk, refusing to meet or chat with anyone today. There were still missing chunks of her memories, evading her grasp no matter how hard she clawed for them in her head. No doubt who it was responsible for all of this either.

But it was enough that she remembered the night before. It brought her will back to the forefront, as shamefully beaten and battered as it had been from the sexual torture she had been subjected to. She wouldn't let that happen again. She couldn't. There was too much at stake, not least being a career and reputation she had worked so hard to build up. She had her pride, although that too was beginning to waver in the face of the lust eating through her. She'd have to avoid him at all costs. She could come up with an excuse. A cold. She didn't want it spreading. She could just communicate through email with him from her desk and stay far, far away from any other influences. Everything would be fine.

Everything wasn't fine.

She had only left to top up her coffee at the pantry. Coffee was one of the few things keeping her sane right now amidst the never-ending lust. But she only made it round the corner before a hand reached out, hooking her by her waist and dragging her into the copier room where rows upon rows of fax machines lined the walls, standing two astride interspersed by support pillars. She didn't even manage to gasp, a familiar large hand sealing her lips behind a firm palm, pulling her close against his body, warmth spreading through his white Prada shirt and slacks. She turned her head and there he was, eyes regarding her with a burning curiosity, a finger raised to his lips as he bid her to stay quiet.

He wasn't making it easy for her. Not with the hand that was working the buttons of her blouse down one after the other, her cleavage spilling out into the palm of his hand like an offering to be squeezed and fondled. That same hand that had reached for the hem of her skirt, methodically folding it upwards until it was short enough to function as nothing but a fashion accessory emphasising her creamy white thighs, exposed to the cool office air. She could feel his hard-on pressing against her butt as he held her against him. She briefly wondered, giddy as the intensity of the situation began to take over her senses, how it would feel inside of her.

She didn't get to find out. Instead his hand cupped over her fresh mound, sealing her lower lips as tightly as he did her mouth. She could feel him squeezing her whole as he grabbed her by her pussy, feeling very much like a ripe piece of fruit ready to be picked. His voice teased in her ear, lips pressed close enough to whisper directly to her his words that made her world spin strangely, her thoughts losing potency as his will overtook her own.

"No panties, just like I asked this morning. Good girl."

There was a finger there now. Languid as it was unhurried as it stroked back and forth across her opening, honeyed trails creating webs that clung to his digits as it drifted back and forth, a part of her stirring inside. Not like this. She couldn't speak, didn't want to make a commotion for fear that someone would hear and come looking. Her head shook from side to side, weakly trying to deny him. To pull away.