The Light Between the Trees Ch. 02

Travis thrusts all the way in, crushing the head of his cock against my cervix. It's painful, but I'm too far gone now, lost in the haze of bliss, hovering on the edge of orgasm. I feel his cock pulse, expanding even wider, and then he's pumping into me, filling me with his seed.

I answer, clamping around him as my orgasm breaks, milking his impressive girth, pushing myself to new heights of pleasure, losing myself for a moment in the white ecstasy of my climax. Toby, Travis, his girlfriend, the humiliation, the feeling of just being used for his pleasure, the way he pulses inside me as his ejaculation rolls on and on, it all washes over me until my mind blanks and I'm left gasping for air, my panties still between my lips, slumped nude across the meeting room table in the middle of the office.

I hear Travis zip himself up and feel him pat me on the bottom.

"Thanks," he says, moving the chair back from the door.

He turns back to me and our eyes meet, his hand on the door handle. He's not going to wait for me to get dressed or even to get up off the table, he's just going to open the door and leave, regardless of who is passing outside. I frown at him, still gagged with my own underwear.

"Why?" Travis says, "Is that your question?"

He shrugs and opens the door, exposing me to the office. It's lunch time, and mercifully the desks that look in are empty. I realise that Travis didn't even consider that.

"Why am I doing this?" he continues, "I guess, it's the law of the jungle. I'm the dominant male. Deep down you know I am."

Travis pauses in the doorway. "You're wired to need me. It's not personal, it's just biology. You can't help it."

He gives me a sly grin and closes the door, leaving me alone. My body slumps, my forehead pressing against the table. I can feel him starting to leak out of me. I can still taste myself on my panties. I can feel the prickle of sweat on my skin. He's wrong. I can help it, I'm not a slave to biology. Travis is a prick, taking what he thinks he deserves. Yet, I can feel myself still gaping, stretched by him, my body buzzing with the afterglow of the orgasm he gave me. He called himself the dominant male, going against everything I believe in, everything I've fought so hard in my career and my life against: the sheer fucking entitlement.

I will get dressed. I will clean myself up, then I will go downstairs and find Travis and tell him to go fuck himself. I'm going to show him boss bitch. I'm going to take charge. He's got a girlfriend, he's not going to turn me into some conquest at work, I'm going to end it right now, today.

But, in the end I do none of those things. I finish my work and I go home. I heat up a convenience meal and stare at the television. Eventually, I get out my phone and scroll through my apps, tapping on Kikster and watching the familiar welcome screen appear.

I stare at the prompt. I know how much work the user experience team put into the few simple words on the screen, road testing dozens of prompts before settling on this one as the best way to start the journey.

Tell me what you want.

It's a test account, installed on my phone, completely separated from the company network. There's no way to link it back to me. I hesitate, then type one word.

Dominate.

The Everything Engine comes to life behind the scenes, running through a billion combinations in about a second and a half, just a brief pause that you could attribute to network lag. Then, the content stream begins to unfold on my screen and I scroll. News articles are displayed, then sports reports, showing politicians dominating a discussion or teams dominating the game, but there's one article that's different. I tap on the screen and begin to read. In the background, somewhere in the universe of ones and zeros, the Everything Engine notes my rejection of the previous entries and my interest in that one. Silently, tirelessly, it begins to construct a rabbit hole around me.

By midnight, it has served me up a first-person account of a woman looking to change her sex life, her relationship, to find the part of her that's missing. She's always been conservative, not prone to wild flights of fancy or taking risks, methodical. Her post details her descent into a world of risky sex and fast hook-ups, and the pleasures she found. At the end is a link to her profile on a website I would never have otherwise found. I tap on the link.

I'm prompted to register, and I hesitate. The woman's story still echoes in my brain, though, and I want to know more. I want to discover what she did next. I tap the link to join and it asks me for a name. I pick Raven, and unbelievably it's not already taken.

I take it as a sign, or maybe it's a portent.

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[Next chapter: Chloe explores a strange new world and meets someone. His name is Covalent and other than that, she knows nothing about him.

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