The Contract - Sexy CEO Pt. 04

Her mind had spent almost the whole night on tackling the problem and had come up with a potential answer. It was an option, certainly. Quick and easy and would definitely make the required money... guaranteed in fact.

That's what the company wanted and their first and only port of call was to task her with it. They didn't care about how it was done, just as long as it was. She had made promises and assured them of her complete focus on the task in hand. They, in turn, had made contractual promises to the charity which they had to keep.

She dare not let them down.

Her ideas so far had yet to yield fruit. The raffle had been a damp squib. No one had been remotely interested in winning a bottle of wine or box of biscuits and the takings so far had been minimal. The draw was literally a fortnight away and they had only sold a couple of tickets.

The carwash using cheap local student labour also had been, there was no other word for it, a wash out. Drivers of a couple of cars quibbled about the fiver they were asked for and there had been a complaint about the lacklustre job by another customer.

She could imagine the shaking heads from her staff at each of these failures, though they had tried to limit their true feelings in front of her.

Then the cake bake had cost more with ingredients than it made back in revenue during their sale. The cakes had not looked appetising on the plates and she could not blame everyone for suddenly saying that they were dieting.

Another fail.

The fundraiser was looking to be a complete disaster and a failure for her personally. She had been far too quick with agreeing to organise it all with her self-belief obviously surpassing the funds and enthusiasm available.

Which brought her to the option she had come up with in the night. The option she had always expected somehow, in her heart-of-hearts.

Checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she had completed her morning ablutions and was now readying herself for work. She sighed and regarded herself critically.

It had been six months since she had last used her body to pay a debt and that had gone very well. It was a memory that she kept fresh in her mind, and especially on those cold evenings when she needed a calming personal moment.

She had almost felt an addict, coming down from a fix when it had all ended. Her original reluctance to begin the road to recovering staff morale was now long forgotten after the excitement of the weeks during her total and utter compliance to their every debauched expectation of her.

Taking a step back from the mirror, she looked for the lift on her breasts. They were still voluptuous and pert, desirable and much more than a handful; still had long beautiful hair that could be teased attractively around her face. Still a good body.

They had many debauched expectations too at the time. She had been their total slut for several weeks. Even now, seeing the desks she had been bent over so often caused her palpitations and she could barely enter the staff canteen area without her face flushing at the memory of her exhibitionism.

Stroking her hand down over her stomach and into her thighs, she nodded appreciatively at the curve of her body. Still in shape, girl. The Summer holidays hadn't taken too much of a toll on her waistline. Parting her legs, she checked her pussy with her fingertips before leaning down to look. Kept shaved, her lips parted instinctively at the touch, offering the soft pink tongue of her inner labia to protrude quickly and willingly.

Was her body already thinking about her new idea? The sensation of feeling warm and moist between her legs always betrayed her true desires and though this idea had only just come to mind, her body was already agreeing to it.

Like an addict with temptation being too much to handle and subdue, she was craving her next fix.

The front reception held the table of raffle prizes, and though she had tried to make it look an exciting prospect to purchase tickets, no matter how much tinsel, glitter and signage was used, it still looked pathetic and uninspiring.

She had been in a tougher spot before with the lost bonuses, and the whole team had rallied when she had offered her body as compensation. The idea she was toying with now would effectively do the same thing again. But would they remember the fun they had with her or would she be something that had been done already and not have a powerful enough desire to repeat? Would she be a draw or would they think her as old news? She would have to find a way to incentivise them!

It was almost constantly on her mind when she had to interact with any of them now. Knowing that she had serviced their cocks and pussies repeatedly, and put on intimate displays of her own masturbation for their entertainment on several days, was a major turn on. She tried to hide her emotions of course, but she still received knowing smiles from some of them. The fit delivery driver for example, though he was always smiling, always had a special smile for her.

Since then of course she had tried to regain an officious control of the office, keeping herself aloof as far as they were concerned anyway, as much as possible.

To make the new scheme work, she had to find a way of reminding them that the prim, austerely dressed woman in the main office was slutty and worthy enough to buy tickets for.

It was not good enough to sell the use of her body and not make any revenue. This needed thought; marketing was key. She didn't want to just give herself away.

She couldn't necessarily sit herself on the table to advertise every day but maybe she could put pictures of herself on it instead?

Slightly humiliating obviously, but the numbers of people talking about her would grow and make it all worth while.

The bottle of wine was going to be the main prize, but maybe that could be relegated to a fifth location and she could make up the first four places instead?

Fourth prize could be a hand job at the winner's time of choosing. She held her right hand up to her eyes and checked out it's condition. The skin was very soft and her nails had a decent length, though they did need a little manicuring and painting up. She smiled as she thought how much a man liked having a soft delicate hand playing with his cock. Even a woman, if she won, would appreciate someone else's painted nails parting her lips and stroking her clit for her.

That would handle fourth place, in a manner of speaking. She could have a picture taken of her hand, perhaps holding a dildo or a cock if she could get one of the men to step up? She imagined the simple writing beneath the picture stating: 'IOU, one hand-job', and smiled to herself. She needed that manicure first though and a willing cock.

Should she specify where and when or would it be a bigger draw for them to be able to claim their prize whenever they wanted?

Third prize would obviously be a blowjob. Pursing her lips in the mirror, she watched the expression it gave her face. It made it look a bit needy and longing, as though actually desperate for oral comfort rather than alluring. She tried a couple of other poses and soon had the 'come hither' look she wanted with her lips slightly parted giving a hint of her tongue. If she lip-lined and glossed, she could make her lips almost look like a butterfly. That would sell, surely?

She smiled to herself and recalled the number of blowjobs she had had to give during the bonus debacle. She had swallowed so much spunk at the time it had almost become a food group for her. It was surprising how quickly and easily she had gotten used to the taste of cum. How she could almost tell what they had been eating. Which men produced more than others and began to see a notable softness on her skin where it had repeatedly lain and dried after a facial.

Applying her lipstick now for work, she wondered about a picture of that option for the table. Again, she could have the words written and ready to explain, and maybe she could actually kiss the laminated picture to leave lipstick residue. She would ask the girl at reception to take that picture, as she was used to her selfies. Goodness, she took enough of them.

She tried again and got the sultry expression she thought looked best. All she needed was full make up, dark eyes perhaps and a good angle.

Second prize could be full sex. She had been fucked by most of them anyway at one time or another, though there were a couple of new employees on the staff list now.

How could that look on the picture? Maybe lying down and naked or in stockings, with her leg crooked and a patting hand on the ground beside her. Perhaps wearing her heels too? That had been a theme last time, especially for the men. Something about keeping her off balance and girly.

Which left first prize.

What could she offer that would be the big draw? That all the staff would want, male or female? Something that they hadn't already had from her and would stimulate thorough ticket sales.

Well, that answer had been the result of her consciousness mulling it over during the night. She thought she had the answer which might appeal to them all. It was an idea which had begun to formulate in the early hours and which she was now ready to run with.

She could offer a full 24 hours of sexual slavery to the winner!

It would mean that she would be on hand 247 from the moment she got to their house until the moment she left, irrespective of whom else was in their home. It was no good to start demanding stipulations, people got bored with that. It was no good assuming that the person with the winning ticket would live alone. It was even more probable that the partner had no prior knowledge of how they had received their bonus all those months ago, or that she was a practicing slut.

Hmmm. That could be tricky to explain. Maybe she should say that she would also remain mute and leave any tricky explanations to the winner?

She could wear a mask to disguise herself, but if the winner was taking a sex slave back to their house, their spouse would have to know about it. They would be totally aware that she was their partner's boss and there was no disguising her without a full hood.

That had been an idea with just eye and mouth holes. Complete mute anonymity. Just a series of willing holes for use and a naked body for abuse. The thought turned her on even now and she fought to stay in the moment.

How many spouses would tolerate that without many questions? That wouldn't be her problem.

She wondered if the delivery man had a partner or whether he would bring a mate round to double team her. That might be an interesting experience rather than a bloke and his wife.

Should that be part of the first prize then? She would offer to become a couple's sex slave to do with as they wished. She might end up cleaning their house whilst naked and being used periodically, which was still a bit of a turn on for her, despite the manual labour implications of it.

Hmmm. That would sell tickets wouldn't it? She would obviously feel completely exhibited and slightly humiliated, being on hand for them to do with as they wished, but it was a major turn on for all concerned and surely worth a few hundred pounds of tickets?

She ran her finger along her slit and found the usual dampness. Yes, she was definitely turned on by those thoughts. Most of the men at work were married and she had met most of the wives at one after-work do or another. The delivery bloke was still a bit of a mystery and the older lady in the outer office was most likely in a lesbian relationship even though she didn't talk about it. But whatever was the case with the winner, she would have to work with it.

How could slavery work as a visual tabletop offer though? How could she emphasise that aspect of the implication?

She understood and could perform all the established sex slave positions of course: Attention; Inspection; Table; etc. She could adopt the 'Ready for Use' pose without being asked in-between uses throughout the day and wait calmly for the next instruction. It might mean that at times her pussy would most likely leak down her leg and perhaps drip on the floor, but unless she was told to lick or clean it up, she would have to tolerate it.

No doubt they would use her fully in every single way. Her mouth and pussy obvious receptacles, but should her ass also be on the menu? That could be a negotiation, but if she was told to cum for them, then that she would have to do.

She felt a shiver of excitement drift from her pussy to her brain. The thought of being constantly alert and repeatedly used for her body was a compelling one. Would she be allowed that orgasm? How many would she be told to have? Should that be a stipulation?

How could the picture for the raffle table look? She had in mind an old-fashioned photo booth set of pictures with herself in different slave poses arranged in series. Maybe with the words SEX SLAVE printed across the front at an angle like a watermark over the images.

She could get the reception girl to take those pictures too. If she took her heels in to work and maybe a collar and leash to really emphasise the point, she could get changed during a toilet break and clear her desk as a podium to pose on.

The thought obviously excited her and she wondered if she had time for a personal moment right now. It wouldn't take long.

Fuck it.

She sat on the edge of the bath and lifted a foot up onto the toilet bowl.

Holding a breast firmly with one hand she slowly stroked around her open pussy with the other and closed her eyes. Her head was now full of what she was planning to do.

A finger inside. Now two.

How many people would cluster around that weak-ass display of prizes then? How many of them would make a beeline for it, desperate to purchase tickets? How many would be intrigued by a full 24 hours of having their own personal sex slave? The more entries, the more likely the win would be.

Should she adjust the ticket price? Would she make more money leaving each ticket at fifty pence with the hope that each person bought thirty or forty, or put the price to a fiver and limit the number each person purchased?

How many visitors to reception would also see the raffle table and buy a ticket? She hadn't thought about that. Random people were in there all day long. Granted, most of them were drivers and working men who would all appreciate the new set of prizes on offer, rather than the prim and proper business women who would potentially look down their noses at her. Fuck it. The men especially would appreciate her as the new prize.

Word of mouth might bring in more money. There was a thought. How about the whole trading estate purchasing tickets with her sexual slavery as the main prize on offer?

Could she manipulate the winning ticket to make it someone she wanted to fuck more than anyone else? The company delivery driver for example?

But then, would it be more exciting to not know who she would have to perform for? Not know who was going to fuck her and have that control completely removed from her? Purely a free use slut for that entire day. That was an extremely powerful thought.

She was close to cumming now.

How long would they need to recover between each release and be ready again throughout the day? If she was being used by their wife too, that woman might have a lot more stamina and she couldn't imagine a bloke not being turned on by their wife with an obedient sex slave. It certainly wouldn't be a boring day. She would have to submit completely and utterly to everything they wanted from her.

There it was. A happy orgasm. A blast of relief through her body as the tension released. She had been so worried recently about completing her money-raising task but it was a simple enough solution in the end.

She opened her eyes and panted slightly at her exertions, a smile creeping across her face at the pleasure she had given herself and realising that a plan had been sorted and a weight off her shoulders.

Making plans already, the next steps were to paint her nails and get all the necessary pictures taken and printed out. Marketing would have to be swift and holistic. Should she get copies made and posted around the business and around the trading estate? Did she need to see the new prizes evident everywhere with her slave poses on random walls around the workshop and in the rest room?

As posters perhaps? Full glossy colour or stylish black-and-whites?

She would choose whichever would generate the required interest and hopefully the necessary ticket sales. High definition colour would leave nothing to the imagination whereas black-and-white could create a little mystery. It wasn't like she hadn't walked naked around the entire business premises before, but seeing the lasting wall art of her was another level of exhibition.

She had been walked on a leash around the shop floor several times for multiple men to use during those days of repaying the missed bonus. But at least she didn't have to repeatedly see her naked sluttiness except when she caught sight of herself in a mirror.

She would have to swallow hard, in a manner of speaking, and accept everyone's judgement of her. It was a trade-off. She had to promote the prizes to encourage participation. End of concern.

Another quick cum? A glance at her watch confirmed she had the time before she needed to leave for work.

Regarding her fingertips on her nipple, she made the instantaneous decision to take some red nail varnish into work and apply it during the ten o'clock zoom call. A couple of coats and her hands would look amazing for a photograph.

A squeeze of her nipple and a gripped cup of the breast flesh. She felt the usual flood of excitement through her very core.

She could wear the fishnet stockings and suspenders with the stiletto heels to work today which would make it quicker to prepare for the lying down pictures. Those would also look fabulous for the slave poses.

Her fingers comfortably on her sex again. Familiar. Erotic. A tease of her clit and now the rise of high emotion.

The reception girl would be the perfect person to take the pictures of her. If word of mouth sold, then she would sell bigtime. She wouldn't mind if it meant half an hour away from the phones ordering her slutty boss around.

She felt open and warm. Tight and delicious.

They could take the half an hour when the delivery driver came in. See if they could use his cock for the handjob picture. He wouldn't mind if she promised to finish him off afterwards as payment to have his cock in the pictures.

She pushed deep and interchanged between her fingers.

What if he demanded more? His cock was going to be immortalised on a poster after all. That would be no problem, she had taken him before in both ends. On one memorable occasion, he had interchanged between her pussy and mouth and made her taste herself on his flesh.

He had lasted a good few movements back and forth, making her suck him clean each time before he replaced himself in her pussy and fucked her hard again. He had ended up cumming in her pussy and then made her clean him off with her mouth. There had been a lot of cum dripping out of her for quite some considerable time afterwards.

Almost there.

Residual cum had still been seeping out from his cock when she had been made to suck him clean and dry as he had to get back to work and obviously didn't need stained clothing. He then zipped himself up and left her completely used and feeling comfortably abused on her office desk. Her ass was still facing towards the open door for all to see as he opened it and went back to work.

It had taken her a few moments to recover herself and then mop up as she remembered. He had been a copious cummer.

No more girl! She had to get going. Reluctantly she dragged her hand away from her pussy and washed out a face-cloth ready to wipe her pussy down and freshen up.