The Contract - Sexy CEO Pt. 02

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Fantasy CEO making up for a mistake.
4.5k words
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 08/25/2023
Created 04/11/2023
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This is still my fantasy and not real like my other stories.

The Contract - sexy CEO part 2

Appraising herself in the floor length mirror of her bedroom, she smiled appreciatively. Standing tall in her stiletto heels, her long hair fell seductively around her shoulders, picture-framing her face and emphasizing a deep cleavage between soft cascading curtains.

A pinstripe mini skirt showed a glimpse of her naked thigh above sheer black stockings, and she smiled at the slutty impression it gave, especially as it was belted much higher on her waist than it should have been. She was pleased she had resisted going any higher or leaving her knickers off. Something left to the imagination was always more tantalising than totally laid bare.

The stylish jacket she wore matched the same pinstripes as the mini skirt and looked elegant and professional enough attire for a company CEO.

The only thing was, even though it was the Friday evening after a very long week, she had only just got home. She was actually about to disrobe after a hard day at the office and not dressing for an evening out.

She slowly unbuttoned the jacket and eased the lapels apart to display beneath it the thin white, low cut blouse that she had worn all day.

Showing signs of many stains, previous fluids had now dried to yellowing circles. Despite the material, the soft globes of her braless breasts were still obvious, as were the dark areola around stiff nipples.

Removing the jacket, she hung it carefully in her wardrobe ready for Monday and contemplated the thin shoulder straps of her blouse over her naked shoulders. She had heard an ominous tearing sound earlier in the day as one of the blokes from the Sales floor had reached, without asking, into her cleavage to grip a breast, pulling at the material slightly too roughly to gain access.

He had gripped her breast very roughly too, but there was nothing she could say about that, and maintained her work at the laptop unperturbed. He had then stroked it, felt it's weight and teased a nipple before removing his hand and strolling off.

This was part of the contract she had signed and something that she was having to get used to. She had maintained her concentration on her work and ignored the indignity. He hadn't been the first to hold her like that and he certainly hasn't been the last.

She checked the seam and found it had half torn. No problem then; a quick stitch and it was still usable. She slipped it up and over her head and dropped it into the laundry bin before checking the wide black leather strap around her neck.

This was her collar. A large metal ring was attached to it, and to that, a short chain leash. Despite its obvious functionality, it was ergonomically comfortable to wear and surprisingly voguish around her neck.

She briefly gripped the leather hoop of the leash and moved it around her neck to square the collar on her neck, but there was a perverse comfort having it on and she decided to leave it alone for a while longer.

She had started wearing it every day, but as she required professional decorum for the office, had kept it turned around and hanging down her back until it was required for use.

And used every day too.

Smiling to herself, she mused on that particular journey this last week. The work floor lad had turned up on Monday at the usual time for her routine floor visit, bright red and actually very embarrassed. He had muttered his request to hold the leash and seemed abashed as she had rotated her collar to face forward, and handed him the leash. In that instant, the nagging doubts and worries dispersed and the thought emerged that maybe she was holding his leash instead of the other way around. She felt as though she had the upper hand despite all his bravado.

She had kept her eyes focused and level on him, aware that he couldn't quite meet her gaze and feeling more in control of the situation than she originally expected.

She had kept herself very erect as she walked meekly behind him, feeling safety in a haughty expression and a slow stately stride. She felt like a paraded tiger and took measured steps in her six inch stiletto heels, feeling the gentle pull at her neck. Holding her hands to her hips, she kept the jacket pulled open and felt everyone's eyes on her as they passed by.

She now looked at her naked torso in the mirror and saw what the staff had most likely fantasized about. Firm high breasts, thrusting out proudly. She smiled to herself. She had been lucky in life.

Yes, there was a certain element of embarrassment and a degree of humiliation which she coped with by holding on to the fact that she owed this for her mess up. The lad didn't speak to her and she noticed that the back of his neck was slightly red as he walked ahead of her. Was he embarrassed perhaps? He was pretty much half her age and living his fantasy from what she could tell from office gossip.

A professional woman, the thought of being led along like a pet was not something she expected to do. Ever. By Friday though, the practiced normality of this particular role meant that she was using her sexuality to get her own way during her workshop business conversations, even whilst feeling a gentle pressure on the collar.

It was surprising how many times the men would agree with her whilst completely distracted by her. To the point that by Thursday, after a very profitable topless Tuesday, she was fishing her breasts out of her blouse without it being requested, and had surreptitiously eased her mini skirt up to display more of her thighs whilst at work today. Making sure that glossy red lipstick had been applied perfectly and her long blonde hair teased around her face was an all day, every day, maintenance anyway.

She felt she was owning the role and though the lad holding the end of the leash thought he was in control, it was most definitely the other way round. She chuckled to herself at his learning curve.

With each passing day he had been able to speak up louder and was slightly more assured with his attitude. Despite the obvious eroticism of the situation from the very first day, she noticed that his trousers only started tenting by the third; initially frightened by getting what he had asked for, perhaps, but familiarisation over time increased his confidence and therefore his desire to fully appreciate her acting out his fantasy. By Thursday he had built the confidence to masturbate himself to orgasm over her bare breasts and Friday's work shop tour had culminated in her being told to lean over a bench. She smiled to herself remembering that during his clumsy application of a condom, she gently smoothed her own ass cheeks apart whilst he fumbled around completely distracted by her entire open slit and ass hole winking at him... the lad then lasted barely a minute after entry before he orgasmed whilst deep inside her.

She had accepted these gifts whilst feigning indifference, trying to maintain an aloof attitude while actually enjoying especially, his young energetic fucking. She had gotten most of the way to her own orgasm too, which she had planned to ride out as much as possible without outwardly showing her enjoyment. Luckily he had climaxed and removed himself before the problem arose. She calmed herself as she repositioned her panties and continued the interrupted conversation with the senior work floor coordinator.

General work meetings throughout the week somehow seemed more enjoyable when she was bent over a bench to read plans, knowing full well that her swinging breasts were holding everyone's attention. Taking the opportunity to stretch her thighs out in her heels in order to raise the skirt hemline even further and expose the curve of her panties over her soft pussy lips, she knew she held the captive audience of everyone in the room, especially those behind her.

It was, after all, what she owed.

After a shaky and slow uncertain start, the random use of her for taking their cum became progressively more frequent as the week wore on.

It started just after ten o'clock on Monday, one of the middle aged Sales staff entered her office. A stocky, suited man, he had come in to make use of her with his colleague behind him, obviously egging him on. This, the first time, was an experience for them both; she felt very breathless as he extricated his cock from behind his fly. At any other point in her life, this would have been a problem for them both and HR would have been an immediate call, but now she was going to have to get used to it as a normal daily occurrence, especially as this was going to open the metaphorical door to the rest of them.

She heard his mate back away from the door to give him a little privacy and knew that her own was not necessarily a consideration.

She had kept her eyes averted and focused on her work, slightly angling her face towards him and breathing hard. She sensed him vigorously stroking himself but denied herself the view, hearing him panting slightly and a slight gasp of delight from his audience at the door at the obvious incongruence of the situation.

She pursed her lips and tried to relax, hearing a slight squelch and slap of palm on member knowing full well what was about to happen.

And then it did.

Cum hitting the side of her face, she had instinctively blinked in case a spurt hit her eye but kept her head still and ready for more. Two good spurts and then a few seconds after his trembling breath had returned to normal she felt him rubbing himself against her jaw, wiping his cock dry against her skin. She had expected it and allowed the humiliation without saying anything. It had been quicker than she had anticipated and she idly wondered how long each session would be as the norm.

It took all of her emotional strength to not react to this invasion of her privacy, knowing it was just the first of many. Still keeping her eyes locked on her computer screen, she sensed rather than saw him put himself away and then turn to leave the room.

Smelling the pungency of the spunk on her face, she again resisted the urge to immediately tidy herself, and instead felt the deposit moving slowly down her face. Almost absent mindedly, she had tugged a Kleenex from the box on the desk, and as the noise of the two men receded outside, she folded it and used it to wipe the mess from her face.

By Thursday, she had changed the Kleenex box of tissues for moist wipes which made clean up easier and by Friday, she was wondering if she should be buying them in bulk. She had also started to deliberately and slowly apply lipstick each time she was approached for this usage knowing full well the man in front of her was thinking of her mouth around him. It was a calculated act of open eroticism and a calming encouraging gesture for over-excited participants.

Each time she was approached in the same way she deliberately kept her eyes averted. Twice when she needed a mouthful, as per the contract before leaving for an important board meeting at another location, she accepted the load patiently but with her eyes tightly closed. At these times, she felt the brush of whichever's man's hand it was softly striking her lips with each pump as he directed himself into the open target. She became practiced at kneeling up whilst folding her arms behind her back in order to present herself as meekly and as submissively as possible. This was mostly in recompense for the mistake which caused all of this to become necessary but also she found it turned the said participant on to the point that they didn't take as long. Lapping her tongue out to lick the helmet also helped create lubricant and increased erotic stimulation. The resultant ejaculation was almost cathartic in appeasing her feelings of guilt over the contract problem.

The only time she deliberately shared eye contact was on Thursday when the company driver was in on pick up. He had a certain masculinity and physical presence which she found appealing and had to steady herself at his approach. She had shown him an encouraging smile and licked her lips suggestively, involuntarily gasping at the display as he freed himself and turned her chair to focus completely on him.

She had made it clear that she was offering a blow job and almost groaned in pleasure at feeling him so deep in her throat as he took her up on it.

It was clear that some days were going to be infinitely better than others.

Maintaining a stationary head after five minutes of exciting him to the point of delirium, she accepted him holding her face to fuck her mouth and control the depth.

The resultant blast down her throat was enjoyed far too much and with too much delight, a contented happy smile playing on her lips the whole time.

Gagging on the quantity he produced, she coughed and repeatedly swallowed, licking the residue from around her lips and offering complete clean up of his cock before drying it delicately and carefully putting him away.

She sat on the bed and eased her stilettos from her feet, taking an opportunity to massage her insteps through the sheer black stockings and open her toes. She loved the heels and how they affected her poise and she had often wondered about switching to wearing heels all the time.

She mused on the variety of stiletto heels she had to hand and wondered if the girls in the office had anything similar?

The girls use of her had also started in a small way but become progressively more intense as the week had gone on.

This was more inconvenient than she had expected when she had signed her agreement on the contract, as she had found ways to cope with continuing her work whilst the men took advantage. The girls however, required her full concentration for the duration of their attention.

The younger girl had taken her into the disabled toilet on Tuesday, sat back on the closed seat, whilst she had her kneeling between her legs, and accepted her tongue initially with a lot of giggling. Skirt up and panties pulled to one side, she displayed a close cut pubic area and a lot of inexperience. However, she reached orgasm in a surprisingly short time, her knees, by the end, high and wide, her shoeless feet high up on the toilet door and her pussy considerably more open than at the start.

She then wanted her moment on Wednesday and Thursday and as each day went by, she obviously got progressively more excited about having another woman's tongue on her. The younger girl always took the ready leash, the pull on it obvious and more controlling than the lad ever did, her attitude around the office afterwards seemingly more confident and brazen.

The whole time her mouth and fingers were being employed to please, she couldn't help but think that she should be completing a report or sending an email. On Thursday, she had been interrupted to please her whilst composing a very important covering letter to an order, and she had rushed back to finish it without having time to wash up or readjust herself, meaning she spent the following hour with the girl's taste in her mouth, a slight bruising on her upper lip and the leash still hanging down over her exposed breasts.

She had then made her customary request for a coffee, but very aware that as the younger girl delivered it, she was smirking at the remaining damp on her face and nail marks in her breasts.

Swallowing hard and smiling pleasantly, she kept her mind clear. The girls had been inconvenienced as much as everyone else and if fifteen minutes of oral pleasure a day kept the younger one on side, then so be it. She did, however, decide to step up her workplace authority in the meantime. The girl had to be reminded that the contractual obligations did not negate usual work mode and normal professional relations.

Speaking of the girls, the older woman hadn't used her as much as she had initially expected. It was obvious that the married woman had a highly developed sense of what she found erotic and needed a surprisingly short time to reach her goal.

Wednesday was the first day she was required to fulfill her obligations. She was instructed to lie down behind her desk, no nudity required, for her face to be straddled. The older woman hitched up her usual heavy plaid skirt to show that she wasn't wearing underwear. There was fleeting wonder if this was a normal state of dress for her, before the woman swept a stocky leg over her face and crouched down towards her mouth, a large black bush of hair opening up as she lowered her meaty pink labia.

Accepting her fate was part of the contract, and less effort was required than she had expected. The woman had done most of the work, humping back and forth, her considerably swollen clit tracing her nose, the open lips around her mouth and on her tongue.

The orgasm had only taken moments, a slight squirt spraying over her face, before the woman alighted, straightening her skirt as she stood upright; it was obvious she was going to air dry and she made no move to wipe herself or put on knickers. Without a backwards look, she left the room leaving the door wide open, for her to get to her feet and reach for a tissue with a collection of people in the outer office very aware of what she was doing. Her nose felt battered and she felt more used than with the men leaving their cum over her. She blew her nose to extricate the residual smell of pussy and retook her seat at the computer.

As she removed her skirt to hang it in the wardrobe, she contemplated the difference in the women's attitudes. The younger one seemed to be taking the opportunity to develop and experiment with her sexuality, finding out what she liked and didn't like. She seemed to have approached the situation as a learning experience whereas the older one... well, the two minutes with the older one had seemed more of a punishment.

She deserved it of course. Girls talk and she knew that the older one had been looking forward to a reduced work timetable, now postponed due to not getting the bonus.

As she squared the hangers and closed the door, she resolved to make an offer of her use every day if need be to put a smile back on her face.

The lace knickers she still wore had bunched and twisted almost into string around her, and it was with relief she was able to take them off now and throw them into the laundry basket, extremely aware of her scent all over them. She couldn't help but be aroused and excited by what they were doing to her all day, every day; she was in the prime of her life after all and with her own healthy sexual appetites.

Her moment of performance theatre was one she hadn't been looking forward to whatsoever, since the moment of reading the expectation in the contract. Making a public spectacle event from one of the most intimate acts a woman can do, was, by far, the most audacious and embarrassing she could think of. Plus the fact that, with all those eyes, would she be able to perform to satisfaction? She had the concern that if she didn't achieve orgasm, she would be required to repeat until it happened. If the women were watching, they would know totally if she were faking and it wouldn't make for a pleasant environment with her seated so exposed and vulnerable while being called out for it.

She glanced down ruefully at the memory, unable to meet her own gaze in the mirror and feeling abashed at what had happened.

It had been better and worse than she had expected. They had agreed amongst themselves that they wanted it to happen during the lunch half hour in the staffroom, and had positioned the seat ready for her at 8 am. It meant that every time she walked past the room throughout the morning, there was an obvious and ominous foreboding impression of what was to occur.

So much worse than she had been expecting, causing a lot of flushing and feeling on high alert, ironically only calmed when approached to be used as a cum dump.

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