My Ambition Pt. 10

Whore number 112 minced unsteadily behind me to the door at the end of the boardroom, the intense ordeal and bound position clearly having taken its toll on her. I tidied my hair and dabbed my face before entering cautiously into a finely appointed executive lounge, three or four clusters of sumptuous armchairs scattered around Persian rugs.

The two men I had hoped to find were seated comfortably by the window, through which I saw the evening darkness encroaching, the city lights shining like gems in the gloom. But they were not facing the view, rather they seemed to have been watching a TV on the wall. On it was showing the room I had just left with our lewd activities on repeat.

After a long silence accompanied by our debauched pornography flickering on the screen, during which Mr Dias regarded me with mischievous grin, he said warmly. "Well done, Lucia. Very entertaining." At that moment, the replay showed me going down on the whore, a close up of me licking her clit. "Great commitment. Taking risks." Both men chuckled at that.

I flushed in humiliation, realising that they had not only witnessed, but had actually taped my performance. Because I'm sure that's how they viewed it, as entertainment. At least I wasn't the one that had been lying naked on the table, being abused. She stood naked beside me, eyes downcast, hands submissively behind her back, miniscule pink panties ineffectively preventing the glistening cum from leaking down her inner thighs. I couldn't imagine what she was thinking, if she even thought. Maybe she didn't and had just learned to accept her place.

"Come here." He barked, his tone changing and hardening. Then as we approached, he commanded "Lucia, by the window." I scurried over to where he pointed with a thin cane that I had not noticed before.

"I haven't finished with you." He stopped the anxious looking woman with his cane, making her stand at submissive attention between the two seated men. He tapped her on the backside with his cane and snapped simply "Position."

A flash of fear flitted across her face, but she clearly knew what was expected because she bent down, legs straight, hands onto her ankles. "Count five" he directed his tone unemotional.

With horror I realised what I was about to witness, which was confirmed as his arm flicked the cane to land with a resounding 'thwack' on her upturned bottom. I could see the strain on her face peering between her parted knees, as she supressed a shriek and said tremulously "One. Thank you, Sir."

I was shocked at the sudden casual violence, her accepting it and him not even bothering to stand, metering out the punishment as if this sort of thing happened every day. I should have said something. This was not right... was not how one was supposed to treat another person. Surely? But I didn't do anything. I stayed quiet, standing by the window, trying to be invisible and not draw attention to myself.

Maybe that's how these whores were supposed to be treated and had to be corrected when they made mistakes. Maybe that's why they were so obedient and willing, because this was the consequence of failure. Those thoughts raced through my head as the second strike landed, and the third, fourth and fifth, dispassionately applied by the man and quaveringly accepted by the whore, counting and thanking him, despite the agony on her face and the welling tears in her eyes.

She never cried out once nor moved from her position, which amazed me more than anything else. I would have been screeching and hollering if it was me, writhing in pain, probably rubbing my backside and trying to escape, not clasping my ankles with anguished white knuckles. Byt the time he was finished, her pale buttocks were criss-crossed with angry pink welts, similar to the flash of material bisecting her ass crack.

"Now get out." He snapped at her as she stood up.

"Thank you, Sir." She forced a smile over her distraught expression, curtseying to him and then to Mr Garcia. "I'm sorry for failing, Sir. It won't happen again."

Regardless of what she'd experience, she managed to sashay over to the door, rolling her stripped buttocks sensually, being visually pleasing for the men whose eyes followed her for a second before turning on me. Mr Dias stood up next to me, firmly gripping my shoulder and turning me to face the window, reminding me of the event in his office a couple of days before. Adrenaline caused my heart to pound so that I could hear it in my ears, praying that he was not going to repeat that...

"You did well, Lucia." He murmured in my ear. "By doing what I told you to, you avoided receiving a similar punishment." I gulped, with the news that he thought he could do that to me. And that I had saved myself with a minute to spare. "But you still haven't fully made amends for your indiscretion. You do still want to, don't you?"

No, I didn't. I didn't want to be punished or have to do anything that these cruel men would dream up. Wasn't that what I'd done for them with that girl? Feeling very intimidated, I only managed to stutter incoherently. "Umm... Didn't... Wasn't that... umm."

"Oh that. You think that was adequate recompense?" He purred. "It was only for thinking that you could use our whores without permission. Now you have to atone for the oral enjoyment you received. If you still want your job, you'll have to earn your way back into my good graces. You do want that, don't you, Lucia?"

I felt badgered, backed into a corner. I could walk out and leave, but then everything would have been in vain. Legal action? Unlikely with Ms Alves in their corner. I'd have nothing, no job, no income, probably less than nothing after they'd finished with me. I had done something wrong in their eyes, not knowing it, but he was holding it against me. I stared out into the twilight, with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I realised I'd have to do whatever was necessary to keep my job.

"Yes, Sir." I said reluctantly, not wanting to ask.

"Good girl. Remember what I told you about the people out there... and about taking risks?" He continued amiably, his hand caressing my neck. It'd feel almost comforting, if not for the fact that it felt just like the last time. When I nodded timidly, he whispered. "Garcia's a valuable client and we're just about to close a huge deal. It's important that he's happy. Now we've lost one of our girls and Garcia is particularly partial to blonds. I'm sure you want to make him happy, for the company, for me... for your future."

With a knot in my stomach, I grasped what he was saying. I didn't want to voice it, to acknowledge it, but I knew. And I also knew that I'd probably do it. Because I wanted this so much and was too weak to refuse. I shook my head imperceptibly, my last miniscule act of resistance and denial.

"Yes, you do, Lucia. You're in client relations after all. Just this once, do what is necessary." I felt the tickling breath of his whisper against my cheek his face was so close to mine. "You only need to give him a blowjob. Tell me you'll do it."

I looked forlornly out into the night and the dancing lights of the people out there, wishing I could be with them. Not here, in this office with these depraved men... A blowjob... It wasn't real sex and I was quite good at it, or so I had been told. I actually liked giving head, because I was the one in control. Giving a man pleasure, at my pace. I believed that it maybe wasn't so bad. It could be worse.

"I'll do it..." I mumbled pathetically, my voice quiet and subdued.

"Great. I'm pleased that you're a team player, Lucia." It was like he was gloating, the image of his wide smile floating like a Cheshire cat over my shoulder, shimmering in the reflection on the glass pane. "You'll go far with that sort of attitude."

He spun me around to face back into the room, to see the man whose dick I'd agreed to suck. I couldn't look him in the eye, preferring to look at his shoes. Those expensive-looking, black, shiny, patent-leather shoes that the whores had kissed and worshiped earlier. I may be doing this, but I wasn't like them. I wasn't numbered and naked...

The hand on my neck encouraged me forward until I was standing before Mr Garcia. Our valued client. The man whose crotch I was now staring at, apprehension and disquiet my only companions.

Until I realised that the brunette whore, the one who'd left with them, had come back into the room and was gliding over to us, silent and sensual. Still naked except for her heels, but now beautifully made up and groomed, the signs of her earlier abuse miraculously cleansed. If she was here, why couldn't she do her job and suck him off? Rather than me. The words 'partial to blonds' rang in my ears as a mocking answer. Was that how life was? Did it turn on such small details?

Time seemed to slow down as she approached, no one saying anything, no one moving. I felt like I was paralyzed, fixed in time and space, as I watched her gracefully bend over, legs straight, and without hesitation unbuckle his belt, pull down his fly and shuck his suit pants down to mid-thigh. His lust was apparent, because his penis was standing tall, red and angry, demanding attention. She leant further down and gave it a tender respectful kiss on the tip, before standing back up and looking at me expectantly. Like they all were.

I didn't know what to do. I'd never experienced anything like this in my life. It was crazy, the way she was acting and what they expected me to do. Still, no one said anything, and I stood frozen, not able to initiate the act... my heart pounding and my hands sweating.

Then I felt hands unexpectedly slide down over my shoulders. As I turned to enquire, my blouse was suddenly ripped open, buttons flying in every direction. Mr Dias pulled it off my shoulders and down my arms, until it stuck at my elbows, the high three-button cuff trapping my wrist effectively at my sides.

"Hey. What? Stop." I yelled in stunned confusion, but instead of listening to me, he expertly unclipped my bra clasp and pulled it down further binding my arms, forcing my shoulders back and my chest out, so my pale globes were thrust forward on display. I felt my nipples harden with the sudden cold and fright, brown pebbles on the top of my fleshy mounds. Would they think I was aroused at this treatment, that I liked it?

"You should always present your tits when you suck a man." He growled, making it clear this was not a request.

I flushed with embarrassment, wretchedly thinking how absurd I must look. Was that the moment I should have run? Got out of there, despite the consequences. I didn't know what to think. Resist or obey?

But I took some comfort in the fact I was not totally naked. I wasn't like the whore. And this was only one blowjob, less than an hour of my life. I could do it. Play it safe. Do what they wanted. For now. Try to enjoy it. Don't think too much about it.

His hand was back on my neck, pushing downwards, towards that turgid member. His other hand on my hip, ensuring that I kept my legs straight and my bottom up, just like she'd done. Was this a position these whores learned? That I was being forced into.

I don't know what made me do it, but I kissed the head, just like she'd done. Was I imitating her or acting the role, to try and make the whole thing feel less real? His hand had left my neck, but not my hip. Leaving me to take the next step. I knew what to do, opening my mouth and sucking him in, using my tongue to swirl over the head. I couldn't look at him, focusing instead on the act and the wiry pubes in his groin. To distract myself.

I felt my eyes moisten. This wasn't what I was employed to do. I had gone to good university, had a respectable job. Or so I thought. But here I was with a stranger's penis in my mouth, sucking him for that job. I felt Mr Dias' hand on my backside, giving it a squeeze and then a condescending pat as I laboured to pleasure our client. No, his client.

Suddenly another face was next to mine, her tongue delving into his balls, lapping them as if they were nectar. The two of us side by side, serving our master. Because that's what it felt like. But she was the whore, not me. I wasn't being paid for this, not directly. I was doing Mr Dias a favour, for the good of the company.

"Good girls." Garcia moaned, congratulating us, not distinguishing between us, pleasure making his voice and penis thicken even more. His hand groped my hanging breast, mauling it and making me squirm with unwanted sensation. I could imagine how wanton I looked, bent over, topless with my boobs swaying as I bobbed in his groin. It made me flush with shame, as well as something else...

She seemed especially keen to worship him. I tried to match her frenzied attentions. Both of us licking up and down his shaft, tongues meeting occasionally in the mockery of a kiss. As I buried my tongue into his ball-sack, I imagined my future depended on how well I performed for him. Maybe it did?

Maybe I needed to be the best slut I could be, to satisfy him. To be grateful for the opportunity to show him what I could do, so he would sign the deal. I had to make myself believe that. That I could act the part. For just a few more minutes...

He pushed his penis back into my mouth, hand in my hair, gripping it tightly. I opened wide as he tilted my head back, arching my back, making me offer him my throat. My body tingled with the fantasy playing out in my mind. I had fantasized about giving myself like this to a man. In my darkest moments. And now I had to. For real. It was my duty. I was his slut.

He thrust himself repeatedly down my throat. My hands were useless at my side, even if I wanted to push back. But I had to please him, so I made myself limp, letting him fuck my face. This wasn't the blowjob I'd agreed to, where I was in control. This was a rough throat fucking, but I had no choice in the matter. I was in too deep, with no way out other than to make him cum.

His cock was rock hard, fat, throbbing. I knew he was going to explode and readied myself for his spunk. Suppressing the part of me that loathed it. Having to play the role that they expected.

He withdrew from my mouth, pulling back on my hair, but not letting go, forcing me to drop to my knees, back arched. Holding me there, facing his groin, mouth open, panting from the exertion he had forced on me. He was going to cum in my mouth, squirting like a porn star and I'd have to take it, his cum-drinking slut.

The whore's face appeared next to mine, mouth agape, wriggling her tongue, wanting him to fill her with his whore-seed. I couldn't bring myself to be so eager but was held there with my tongue resting on my lower lip, quivering in anticipation or apprehension. I'm not sure which, but either way we knelt there together, waiting to be fed.

He lined up and exploded all over us, splattering our cheeks and into our mouths, one glob stinging my eye. His semen was warm on my tongue and I knelt there, unsure what to do. Wanting to spit, but too afraid of his ire...

The whore solved my problem, because suddenly she was kissing me, sharing his seed, or rather trying to steal it. Another step in my descent and degradation. I knelt there passively, not fighting for it, even though I knew that is what they expected. My insignificant act of defiance. And then she was licking my face clean, leaving a sheen of saliva mixed with his residue, before she scraped her face clean and sucked it off her fingers.

But I was not finished, because she guided my mouth onto his cock head to clean off the dribble of cum hanging there. The salty taste permeated my mouth and my nostrils, confirming what I had done in case I wanted to forget. My slut fantasy fading with his erection. No longer able to block out the reality of my submission.

"Very good, Lucia." Mr Dias' voice broke through my daze. "We'll see you tomorrow. Off you go."

I dejectedly put my bra back on, redoing the two remaining buttons on the blouse, and holding it protectively closed to prevent it flapping and revealing what they had all already seen. Trying to regain a modicum of dignity as I fled from the room, dwelling on what had happened and why I had allowed it.