My Ambition Pt. 09

Ten minutes later it was me that was discreetly knocking on the boardroom door, timidly waiting to be told to enter. I'd pulled myself together after the altercation with Ms Alves, a few minutes of deep slow yoga breathing, and my expression was one of serene composure. A façade against the tremor in my heart.

The door opened, this time with Mr Dias there to greet me with a sardonic smirk. He stood in the doorway, blocking my view into the room and not allowing me to enter as he unabashedly eyed me up and down, before murmuring so that only I could hear. "I believe you were partaking in some unapproved extracurricular activities?"

I turned crimson and looked down, the heat flooding my chest up through my neck into my face. I can't remember feeling so mortified at him not only knowing, but explicitly telling me he knew. I didn't have an answer, already freaked out by Ms Alves' reprimand, so I stood there not knowing where to look, anywhere but at his amused but voracious eyes as I stuttered "I... I... um... I'm sorry... um... I won't..."

"I'm sure you won't." His smug voice and threatening words chilled me to the core. "But first you must atone for your transgression." That made me look at him, startled, uneasily wondering what he meant. "Come in, Lucia."

He stepped aside to let me enter and what I saw shocked me, despite having expected something... The girl with sandy blond hair was on her back at the nearest end of the boardroom table, her backside and her whore-number 112 on display facing me. Because she was doubled over, knees pressed to her shoulders stretching her thighs into a painful V.

Mr Dias slid his hand up my back and grasped me around the neck, like he had done a couple of days before. My reluctance and fearfulness increased as he pushed me towards her, but I felt like there was nothing I could do. I was as trapped as the girl before me, because as we approached, I could see that her tight pink panties were wrapped about her knees and pulled behind her head, forcing her chin into her chest and holding her knees in place. Her calves and heels were pointed straight up at the ceiling but not freely, because there was a piece of twine tied from each nipple ring to the heel of each shoe, ensuring that any movement of her feet pulled painfully on her stretched breasts.

Despite the discomfort she was obviously in, she had clearly been instructed to spread herself widely, because her hands were pulling her buttocks apart to present her nether orifices. Both of her holes had traces of whitish slime oozing from them despite being filled with foreign objects. What looked like the pink gem of a butt plug was up her rectum and a dildo was embedded deep in her vagina.

Her eyes darted frantically between us, but she said nothing, because her mouth was full, with what appeared to be a golf ball. Drool was leaking from her mouth and fat tears were dripping from her eyes, distress and misery apparent in her expression. We halted in front of her, with me feeling increasingly anxious about what might happen, given the diabolical things that had been done to this whore. Because that is how I chose to see her, despite my own tenuous position.

It was only then that I noticed a movement down the table and saw the auburn whore bent over next to the man called Garcia, looking somewhat dishevelled. Time seemed to stand still, and I noticed how her hair was spread over the table, matching the colour of the dark red mahogany. I thought I could make out the glistening residue of fluids all over the left side of her face, gumming her eye partially shut, but she was not obviously tied or otherwise abused. She was watching us furtively with an anxious expression on her classically beautiful features, hands on each side of her naked torso, stomach, breast and cheek pressed to the wood, unmoving as the man casually fondled her backside and gave it the occasional slap.

But he was ignoring her, except for his hand almost moving instinctively to play with her, to caress and spank her. He seemed far more interested in what we were going to do. But where she oozed insecurity and angst, his face betrayed his self-assurance and expectant enjoyment.

I had taken all of this in, in the couple of seconds that it took to walk from the door to stand between the unfortunate whore's leg, where the smell of sex wafted strongly from her genitals.

"Whaa...." My instinct to question was cut short by the squeeze on my neck.

"Shhhhhh..." Mr Dias whispered in my ear. "She was a naught girl... orgasmed without permission, while we were playing with her... whores are here for our enjoyment, not theirs... so she's being punished. That's fair enough, don't you think?"

The thought of being punished for a natural response seemed barbaric and unfair, but I was in no position to question him or take her side. I had no alternative, but to agree. So, feeling like a coward, I nodded. "Yes, Sir."

After all, she had signed up to be a whore and should follow the rules, shouldn't she. Her entire life revolved around the physical, so she should have learned how to control her urges and arousal. Shouldn't she? That was her role, and this was her life... she should know what was expected, surely? I tried to ignore the nagging thought that I had unknowingly broken their rules and was going to pay the consequences myself.

"Since she's such a needly slut, I want you to turn on that vibrator and stimulate her to cum five times." I looked back at him, not believing what he wanted me to do. I thought that he must have been joking. But his features were set in a stern cruel visage that told me he meant every word.

"What... How?" I spluttered, regardless of how mean he looked.

"Do whatever you need to and take however long is necessary, but I want evidence that she has cum her slutty little heart out, until it is so sensitive and hurts so bad, that she will plead never to ever cum again." He glanced pointedly at a couple of cameras set in the ceiling. "And if you do in half an hour, you may avoid some of your own punishment. Don't fail us... again, Lucia."

I tentatively leant forward and gently took hold of the black stem of the vibrator sticking out of her body. It wasn't turned on, so I looked from her to him.

"Get on with it. Unless you'd..." His eyebrow raised threateningly as he snapped at me, even though I didn't know exactly what he was intimating.

I turned the end of the vibrator and it seemed to roar to life, the hum clearly audible in the silence of the room. Her eyes widened in surprise, the sensations apparently overwhelming her. The anxiety didn't leave her face, but she took on an inward-looking expression as the feelings flooded through her. I slowly pulled the toy out and pushed it back in, thinking that was what he wanted.

"Oh, come on. Fuck her like a slut, hard and fast." He growled. "And you'd better play with her clit. This one likes that. It's what got her in trouble in the first place." The evil chuckle that accompanied his words chilled me, but I instantly started driving the vibrator in an out of her much more vigorously and far deeper, feeling it bottom out in her lubricated fuck hole. "She won't dare move her hands, because she wants it so bad. And she won't spit the ball out, because she knows she has nothing useful to say." He gave me a pat on the bottom as he whispered in my ear "It seems you like abusing our little whores. So now you can have your way. At MY instruction."

Here eyes pleaded with me, wide staring amber pupils tinged with fear and pain and arousal, responding to my actions. Her head shaking slightly from side to side as if in denial, as muffled grunts emanated from behind the golf ball each time the toy slammed into her cervix.

As I followed his orders, I didn't want to think about her, couldn't bear to consider what she felt, preferring to see her as something less, a whore to be played with, a slut that had succumbed to her libidinous nature. Not another woman being abused... by me.

In retrospect I know I acted just as heartlessly as my boss, but I didn't have an alternative, or so I believed. That didn't prevent me from getting a vicarious thrill from the feeling I got from using this slut and taking out my frustrations, my interrupted arousal. This time I had permission, unlike the indiscretion that had got me in this situation in the first place.

"I said rub her fucking clit. Are you deaf or just disobedient?" Mr Dias' voice was cold as ice and it instantly froze my heart. His hand squeezed my left buttock painfully, warning me against any defiance.

Without thinking, my left hand, the one that wasn't driving the dildo, reached between her spread legs. I placed the palm over her mound so that my thumb could strum against the swollen nub at the top of her slit. I'd never done anything like this before but knew what I liked. A few quick flicks over the sensitive bud and then circling around before slipping into the moist folds and rubbing up harder through her labia. My actions seemed to help, because I heard a groan from deep in her throat and her pelvis rocked onto my hand.

"Better... Carry on... just remember, I will know. I want her squirting like a slut until it hurts." He told me as he walked towards Mr Garcia who was watching us in amusement, while he casually fondled the other unfortunate woman in his grasp. "Let's go." He said to his colleague and their plaything. As the three of them were about to go through a door at the other end of the boardroom he glanced back at me with the instruction. "When you're done. Bring her and find us."

And then like that I was left alone with the bound female who I was abusing and arousing at my boss' command. Her snorting breath and rolling eyes were a sure sign of her impending orgasm, so I didn't slow down. In fact, I sped up, just like I enjoyed my lovers to do as I approached my apex. I achieved my first goal as her entire body convulsed in her climax, unable to prevent her legs from flailing, causing the thread to pull intensely at the rings in her nipples. I was amazed at how conical her breasts became when they were stretched taught with her uncontrolled kicks, the muffled shriek betraying how painful it must have been.

Her juices mixed with those of the men that had used her, gushed out around the dildo, as her vaginal walls spasmed and clenched on the artificial invader. They leaked down the crack of her ass to the butt plug which seemed to pulse with her clenching muscles.

None of that prevented me from carrying on, knowing how she must feel, how intense it would have been for her. I was always so sensitive after I orgasmed, my clit a bundle of raw nerves that didn't want to be touched, let along rubbed. But that didn't stop me, rubbing and stimulating with my thumb, plunging and thrusting with my hand, driving her to further arousal, but now tinged with hypersensitive discomfort.

I could see it in her eyes, anguish and lust, but chose to ignore it, my self-preservation more important than her relief. The blinking cameras capturing my obedience and her punishment. Her second orgasm took a lot longer than the first, more effort for me and more ache for her. I felt myself perspiring into my blouse, the drips collecting between my breasts and making it damp.

But that was nothing compared to the sheen of sweat that covered her body, in response to the difficult ordeal she was undergoing. I noticed that she was concentrating particularly hard to prevent her feet from moving and pulling at her inflamed nipples, even as she stared at me imploringly and mumbled incomprehensible words around her golf ball gag.

I felt the spasms of her second orgasm under my hand as her vaginal walls clasped the humming dildo. The nugget of her clit was swollen and red with my attention, rubbed dry by my relentless pressure. I realised it must be painful and dripped a bead of my saliva directly onto it, without stopping my thrumming.

"Only three more to go." I murmured, mostly to myself but loud enough for her to hear as our eyes met. Mine filled with intent, hers with desperation. She was shaking her head from side to side as if denying what was happening or pleading me to have compassion. But I had no mercy to give, not with my skin on the line.

And there was a part of me that, that I'm ashamed to say was excited by the control. With the ruthless way I was using her, penetrating her without her consent, arousing her because I could. I wondered if this is what the men felt when they fucked these whores. Powerful and dominant. My own pussy clenched at the thought, warm waves of pleasure washing through my loins.

By the time she climaxed for the third time, her hands were gripping her butt cheeks, leaving white imprints where her fingers stretched the skin, testament to her determination not to let them slide and the distress she was feeling from my remorseless assault. In addition to the soreness she must have been experiencing in her groin, her position must have been agony, bent double and having to keep still to protect her nipples.

Glancing at the clock, I saw there was quarter of an hour to go. She'd taken twice as long to cum the third time as the previous times and I was becoming concerned. So I redoubled my efforts, not wanting to fail nor be seen to be slacking by whoever was watching. If anyone was...

"Hwweehh thop." She moaned, obviously hurting with the overstimulation, her clit engorged and angry looking, while her swollen labia gripped the slicked shaft pummelling her depths. Her words were distorted, but her twisted expression expressed her frantic plea.

I was getting tired, my arm aching, my thumb cramping, but I had my instructions. And a greater threat than her pathetic despair could contest. I panted with exertion "Cum, you stupid slut. I'm not going to stop until you've done what you were told... CUM NOW!"

I don't know what made me do it, but after getting nowhere for a few more minutes and watching the light in her eyes fading, I put my mouth over her love button. I'd never licked a woman before, never tasted her sour flavour, never felt her silken folds on my tongue. But I did it, out of desperation not to fail...

"Nnnnnn..." She moaned, but whether in pleasure or pain I couldn't tell... and didn't really care. I had a mission and was debasing myself to achieve it. She was not going to deny me.

My tongue seemed to have the desired effect, because not long afterwards I was treated to her bucking pelvis into my face as her gushing gash sprayed my chin. I suddenly felt mortified and sickened at what I had done and pulled away. The clock indicated five more minutes. Five minutes to extract one last orgasm from this useless whore.

Looking at what I had to work with, didn't full me with optimism. Her eyes were rolled back, as if in catatonic shock. Her hair was pasted to her forehead, wet from exertion and probably pain. She was literally non-responsive.

Desperate times require desperate measures, my father always said. I pulled the vibrator from her clenching hole and turned it up to maximum, before pushing it onto her abused clit. Replacing the toy with my own two fingers, I plunged them into her twat over and over again, curling the tips to rub on that sensitive pad at the top of her passage. Hoping to push her over the edge, forcing a vaginal contraction, one last time before the time was up.

Her tight passage was filled with spunk, thick white seed that eased my penetration, but made me feel squeamish. Ensuring that I was very aware of what she'd endured and why she was in this situation. The chlorine smell blended with her tang was even more apparent as my fingers seemed to mine her very core for the viscous fluids, theirs and hers.

I was concentrating so hard on what I was doing that I didn't realise I was repeating a mantra "Cum... Cum... Cum..." Over and over again in time with the thrusting of my two fingers into her depths.

For a moment I wondered how I had come to this. A principled ambitious woman, abusing someone at her boss' instruction, using everything in her ability to make the whore cum. For the fifth time, in obvious pain and distress. Forcing a reluctant orgasm from the helpless female, because she had climaxed without permission...

And the thought made my panties flood with excitement. The diabolical power in this scenario, taking what she didn't want to give, because I could. Oh, the heavenly decadence of the thought, and the act. Suppressing my niggling guilt, I continued driving into her, in control.

The slut writhed her final feeble and seemingly excruciating climax on my fingers, with only a minute or so to go. I pulled my fingers from her wet hole like I might finish stuffing a turkey. Acting casual and indifferent, despite the raging turmoil in my heart. I was not prepared to show any weakness, so I mechanically untied the twine from her heels and pulled her stretched panties over her head, releasing her from the undignified but effective bondage.

I like to think it was instinctively copying the men's actions, when I held my hand up to her mouth, with the simple command "Spit it out." She looked at me in confusion, until I nodded my head in command and showing no doubt. She let the stupid ball that had held her mute roll off her tongue and into the palm of my hand. I'll never forget her look of betrayal and horror, when I slipped my soiled fingers into her mouth and growled "Lick them clean."

She did such an excellent job that once she was done, I popped the ball back into her mouth and said "Leave it there and follow me. Mr Dias is waiting for us."

In retrospect, I should have noticed the strange look of sympathy and loathing wash over her face, but I was too busy basking in the glory of having achieved the goal set by my boss. Ready to return his insubordinate whore and take on whatever task he had in mind...