Office Furniture

"Mrs. Rose? Mr. Brown would like to see you in his office." Amber, the perky secretary with the body of a barely legal pornstar (and a wardrobe to match) poked her head over the walls of your cubicle. You love the smell of flowery perfume she leaves in her wake as she walks back to her desk, and as you sit up from your chair you catch a glimpse of the bejeweled plug she keeps in her ass that's engraved "From Mr. Brown, with love". He gave it to her on the corporate retreat, when he took all the female staff with him and provided each one with a personalized gift. "To be worn on company property at all times," he said, " and in hours of leisure whenever suitable." Personally, you love your custom-made set of nipple piercings and matching clit chain, but you can see why she loves to show her gift off to fellow staff members.

Mr. Brown was beloved by all of the staff at Adelaide Printing. The men love the work culture that he promotes, and the women enjoy the feeling of empowerment that every assignment he gives them brings. Mr. Brown fosters a belief that women in the workplace should be encouraged to use every asset they have to improve the morale and work ethic of their male counterparts, and your pussy tingles at the thought of whatever project he has lined up for you.

As you step into his office, you feel the vibrator in your pussy grow stronger. It's a simple way for Mr. Brown to let all of the female staff in AP know where he is, in case they need to find him. Or, in case they need a hands-free masturbation session before, during, or after lunch. A surprise greets you as you walk in, as you see a full dressed red-haired beauty standing next to Mr. Brown. Normally women in his office are in partial or full states of undress, as he assigns wardrobe changes for every new task. This time however, the gorgeous woman with enormous DD cup breasts and a small-but-respectable miniskirt seemed to be waiting for you.

"I can see you're confused, Lisa," Mr. Brown says, addressing you. "Please, let me introduce you to Samantha Barnes. Samantha here has an issue with her office furniture that I believe you would be the perfect fit for."

"It's my chair," Samantha speaks up, her voice coming softly out of her perfectly made-up face, her lips adorned with black lipstick and a single lip-ring on the right side, and her dark eyeshadow complimenting her pale skin and fiery red hair to great effect.

"My chair has been broken for some time, and I really think a new one would help me focus better at my desk." The woman continues to address you.

"Mr. Brown," you say, "I think there's been some mistake. My department serves cocks. A woman like Samantha should be assisting my department, I don't think it's prudent for me to be serving her." Your words feel right as you say them, but Mr. Brown cuts you off.

"Lisa, like I said I can see that you're confused. You're absolutely right, your department stands for one thing alone- that pussys are for procreating, not pleasure. That holds true even for Samantha," he gestures towards her, "But I think you'll find that she is a very special member of our staff, one who deserves the full and complete services of our Human Resources department." With that, Sam lifts her miniskirt to expose one of the most gorgeous cocks you have ever seen in your life. Normally you don't find white members to be as well sculpted or powerful as their ebony counterparts, but the refined beauty of Sam's penis captivates your mind entirely. If a cock can be defined as 'feminine', it would be Samanthas. The only words you can manage to push out of your quivering lips are a humble "Yes sir..."

"Wonderful. Now then, we have purchased a new chair for Sam, but as you can see, there is a piece missing." Mr. Brown pulls the sheet off of a rectangular object in the center of his office, but it takes you a moment to pull your focus from Samantha's cock before you see the contraption he's revealed. Before you sits a curvy metal frame with restraints at the bottom corners, as well as what appear to be a collar and a pair of handcuffs which can be interchangeably moved.

"Oh, before I forget," Mr. Brown hands you a set of clamps, "Please remove the vibrator from your cock-sleeve, and clip this between both nipples and your clit." You do as he says without question, stripping naked in the process. You bend over Mr. Brown's desk and effortlessly squeeze the viberator out of your pussy, making sure to put on a show for Samantha in the process. Just as you hoped, she's completely rock-hard by the time you turn around.

"Ms. Barnes, I can offer you some assistance with your troublesome staff member before we get started if you'd like," you say, your aching pussy already sending streaks of ladycum down your legs.

"It's Mrs. Barnes actually," She replies softly, stepping towards you, "But I think my husband would agree that he can't attend to my needs the way a fellow woman can. Perhaps you should help get me ready for our afternoon together?"

Needing no further invitation, you drop to your knees and caress her shaft. It's only now that you notice she's completely clean and shaved, not a strand of pubic hair is on her lower body, save for a small heart-shaped patch of bright orange hair above her stiff cock. Mmmm, you think to yourself, a natural redhead.

Women have always turned you on, and since some of the projects Mr. Brown assigns to you involve copulating with your female coworkers for the enjoyment of male staff, pleasuring a woman isn't something completely foreign to you. However, something about the novelty of this absolute bombshell of a woman sporting this raging hard-on has your pussy sopping wet. You waste no time wrapping your soft dick-pillows around her shaft and sliding your tongue along its length. Her breath catches slightly, has she never had her cock sucked before? You wonder to yourself as you begin moving your head up and down. Her cock grows even stiffer in your mouth and you realize that you won't be able to throat her at this rate. You wrap your hands around her waist and begin to coax her into humping your mouth.

She responds enthusiastically, and before you know it her girl-cock is ramming down your esophagus at a blinding rate. You close your eyes and focus solely on the pleasure of being used like a fuck-toy in Mr. Brown's office by a cock you didn't even know existed until now. The body chain clipped onto your nipples and clit begins to slap against your body as you're forcefully taken by this womanly cock. Finally, you feel her getting close to an orgasm and you pull her out of your throat and into your mouth. I have to know what she tastes like, you think to yourself as her climax builds. She stops thrusting as violently once you pull away, so you simply glide your tongue in circles around her thick head. You hear her let out a soft, high pitched moan as she bucks her hips slightly and you taste a river of cum flowing out of her magnificent cockhead.

'Heavenly' wouldn't even begin to describe how her semen tastes. It's smooth and creamy, like melted butter, and it glides down your throat effortlessly. She tastes like warm salt and barley hops, and you never want her to stop feeding you this delicious savory baby-batter. Your womb throbs inside you, desperately pleading for you to save some for later. If you can have even the slightest chance of bringing another one of these beautiful sex-goddesses into this world, you're going to take it.

Somehow, despite the force of her cum-torrent, Samantha stays standing. She has to place a hand on your head for balance, however. After you swallow the last drop of her nut-honey, you look up at her and then towards the chair. "Would you like me to maintain a similar position under you today?" you ask her.

"No Mrs. Rose, I'd like you to be in a more supportive position in my department," Sam says, as she undoes the collar and places it under the seat of the chair. While she works, your pussy drips down your leg, reminding you of your expended moisture. "Mr. Brown," you turn towards the CEO, "I'm feeling rather parched."

"Say no more, Lisa." Mr. Brown unzips his pants, his glorious ebony dick cascading out of his slacks like a waterfall. He steps towards you, still on your knees, and rests the tip of his cock on your lips. Your mouth almost wasn't ready for the powerful stream of piss he begins draining into it, but after a second of hesitation you begin to gulp down mouthful after mouthful. Thanks to the extremely well-hydrated staff at AP, women who find themselves thirsty throughout the day can often make impromptu requests like this of any staff member, male or female. You love that you got a chance to drink straight from Mr. Brown's cock, but you have to hold yourself back from outright sucking it. Mr. Brown's cum was reserved for baby-making ONLY, and every female staff member knows that.

One of the many secrets of Adelaide Printing is the existence of it's pharmaceutical program. These are often exclusively used within the company, but one of the most amazing inventions is the Semen Digestion Assistant, or what most female staff members refer to as the "Free Lunch Pill". Basically, it contains a modified protein that allows for perfect digestion of cum without waste products, and since there's no rule against pissing in the office so long as it's the result of a squirt, this meant that all female bathrooms could have the toilets removed and the stalls converted into well-furnished glory holes. The secondary function of these rooms is also as the women's lunch hall, since all female staff need to eat at least 8 cups of semen per day to obtain total nutrition.

As you lick your lips of Mr. Brown's piss, you wonder why this thought of company pills popped into your head. Then you remember that you'll be spending the better part of today using your tongue as a butt plug for Mrs. Barnes. You're confident that your jaw can handle it, after all you were once hand-selected by Mr. Brown to keep Mr. Johnson's balls warm in your mouth for an entire afternoon while he was on a teleconference call negotiating freight prices (he later thanked you for giving him the confidence to raise company rates.) Compared to that, rimming a gorgeous dick-girl for an evening would be child's play. Your mind was simply reminding you that there won't be any mess to clean up after.

You crawl over to the "chair" and kneel inside. The restraints arch your back in such a way that even though your mouth is facing straight up, you don't feel any uncomfortable pressure on your neck. Your knees and ankles are then buckled into place, ensuring that you can't move even so much as an inch. Your hands are cuffed into the front of the seat, and the bodychain connecting your nipples to your clit is pulled taught against the cuffs.

"So Lisa, as you stroke Samantha's cock back and forth, you will either have your clitoris or your nipples pulled on. And since you clipped them to those wonderful piercings I gave you, there's no chance of them slipping off." Mr. Brown smiles down at you, and you make a stroking motion to test what he's saying. Sure enough, as your hands go forward, you feel your nipples tugged painfully. And as you pull your hand back, your clit feels like it's being pinched by an aggressive lover. Just this testing motion is enough to make your asshole pucker around your own butt plug,which in turn makes you squirt a little on Mr. Brown's office floor.

The office culture at AP necessitates an extensive janitorial staff, many of which are individuals who are either struggling financially or are outright homeless. Mr. Brown often says that part of his liberal policies regarding bodily fluids is to excuse how well-staffed the cleaning crew is. However, since many of these employees are financially struggling, some of them can't afford hot water or cleaning supplies of their own to maintain personal hygiene levels. As a result, you implemented a complimentary tongue-bath program for cleaning staff, organized by a registry sheet in your office. These can range from sucking out smegma from under unwashed foreskins to cleaning the sweat from every janitor's scrotum to ensure they are as clean as possible. The piss puddle you leave behind on the floor is quickly dealt with by a custodian that Mr. Brown keeps exclusively in his office for just such occasions.

While the janitor is wiping your little 'outburst' off of the floor, you see Sam smile above you before turning around, giving you a perfect view up her short miniskirt. God, you realize, her cock is only ever an inch or so away from being completely visible from under that skirt. I can see why she needs assistance at the front desk, our 'no panties' policy means that if she gets an erection at the wrong time... Your thoughts trail off as you notice her removing her own butt plug and her perfect, puckered asshole begins to lower down to your waiting lips.

"Is it alright if I test the ergonomics of my new chair here, Mr. Brown?" She asks softly, placing her warm plug on the floor. "Absolutely Sam," Mr. Brown replies, straightening the crotch of his slacks. Sam sits down on the U-shaped silicone seat that leaves a gap for your face in the center. The first thing you notice is her musk, and how unmistakable female she smells. You've been in similar positions with male colleagues, and you don't remember a single one of them filling your nostrils with anything but salt, sweat and body odor. None of these are particularly unpleasant to you, but their absence is remarkable on this woman.

She really is simply a woman with a magnificent cock, you think to yourself before your mind - and mouth - are overwhelmed by her pert rosebud. There's still lubrication around her hole, likely oil considering the smell, and your tongue easily works its way inside of her. Her dick has also landed perfectly in your hands, which are restrained at her crotch. The saliva from your 'assistance' earlier is still wet on her cock, and you use that to work her shaft back and forth. The tension from your bodychain on your sex and breasts begins to overstimulate you, and you have to force your mind to only focus on pleasing Samantha.

A consequence of this is that your bodychain pushes you swiftly to orgasm, but you can't allow yourself to take the precious time out of Samantha's busy workday to cum. The result is you, constantly on edge, completely focused on building Sam's orgasm and ignoring your own. It's truly a perfect representation of your department here at AP.

Sam doesn't last very long under these conditions, and sits up swiftly. "Fuck," she gasps, "That's amazing! I know I can only keep her for the afternoon, but fuck, Mr. Brown! I think this is the best chair I've ever had!"

"We aim to keep our cock-gifted staff satisfied here at Adelaide Printing, Mrs. Barnes," Mr. Brown says in response, his own erection visible under his business attire.

"So, Mrs. Barnes," you start, as a black curtain is draped over your new cage, "What department do you work in?"

"I'm the new front desk receptionist." Sam replies, and you nearly faint. The employee culture at AP is a closely guarded secret, and if Mr. Brown has chosen you to improve morale at the front desk, it can only mean that he's testing you to see how discrete you can be while pleasuring an employee. There will likely be tens or even a hundred people interacting with Sam today, and it's your job to keep her motivated, cumming and happy while she does her job without any undesired attention.

"I can't wait to work under you!" You say with a smile as Mr. Brown lifts you over his shoulder.