To Victoria Go the Spoils Ch. 06

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The Blowback.
2.6k words
4.65
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Part 6 of the 6 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 08/20/2015
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Victoria sat in front of her computer, counting down the seconds until she could leave work. Her mind wandered, and she envisioned Sarah. Her sub -- Vicky had begun thinking of the younger woman in that manner -- had the night off, both from work and from Vicky's bed.

At least Sarah's not out with Eddie, she thought, risking a glance at the hirsute goliath sitting a few desks away.

"Miss Troy," her supervisor called out.

Annoyed, she snapped out of her daydream and turned her head toward Bob Dornan's office.

"Could you come here, please?" he continued.

Checking the clock on the wall, she sighed.

"Are you kidding me?" she whispered. "Another minute and I'd have been out of here."

Rising slowly, she shuffled across the carpeted floor as Eddie and two other workers grabbed their assorted belongings and made their way to the exit.

"Yes, Mr. Dornan?" she asked, adjusting her glasses as she remained one step outside the room.

"Come in and close the door," he said.

Frowning, she wondered what this might be about.

"Have a seat," he directed, pointing at the chair in front of his broad wooden desk.

Sitting down, Vicky interlocked her fingers, mostly to keep her hands from shaking. Suddenly, the dominant side she'd cultivated over the last few weeks had dissolved.

"I don't know how to put this," he said. "So, I guess, I should just say it."

Vicky nodded a fraction of an inch as he looked at her.

"Yesterday, I overheard Eddie and Sarah talking in the back room," he said.

Her face fell, her gaze dropped into her lap, and she could feel the blood rushing into her cheeks.

"Are you forcing Eddie and Sarah to have sex with you?" he asked.

She remained silent. He waited a few moments.

"Is it true?" he pressed.

"How could I make them have sex with me?" Vicky argued, flashing her ice-blue eyes at him.

"Eddie mentioned some videos," Dornan said. "And, that you threatened to show everyone if they didn't do whatever you wanted."

Vicky deflated, nervously shifting in her seat.

"Blackmail is illegal," he counseled. "You could be arrested. Even go to prison."

"I don't want to get in trouble," she groused. "I just wanted to fuck Sarah."

"Well, it's hard to blame you for that," he allowed. "Very understandable, in fact."

"The way she prances around here in those short skirts, and little tops...," Vicky began, desperately grasping at a defense.

"But, that doesn't make it right," he pointed out, needlessly.

"Are you going to call the cops?" she mumbled.

"No," he said. "If..."

"If," she echoed, positive she knew what he'd say next.

"You get Sarah to fuck me," he offered.

Panic swirled in the pit of her stomach. She stared into his eyes, measuring his resolve. He didn't flinch.

"Why should I let you play with my toys?" she asked.

"Because, if you don't, I will call the police," he threatened, bluntly.

Her short-lived bluster faded.

"I doubt she'll go that far," Vicky opined.

"I'll give you 24 hours to figure out how to make it happen," he told her.

Stunned, she didn't speak, and she blankly scanned the floor.

"You can go now," he said, not waiting for a reply.

Without looking at him, Vicky stood up, and left the office on unsteady legs. Angry and afraid, she trudged home, trying to think of a way out of this.

Normally, Vicky dressed conservatively for work. The next day, however, she modified her standard attire, donning a loose, short, black skirt which contrasted nicely against her pale skin, and barely fell to the top of the thigh high stockings she'd pulled on; a tight, thin, low cut, white shirt over a black lace bra prominently displaying her full, C-cup breasts, and black ankle boots.

During her shift, she could feel the weight of her co-workers leering. Though some of her female colleagues dressed this way on a regular basis, Vicky never had before, and it certainly caused a reaction. It did for her as well. The new level of attention both made her uncomfortable and excited her.

As quitting time approached, she went to the ladies room to freshen up, grabbed her things from her desk, and then made her way to Dornan's office. She hadn't seen him all day. Leaning against the doorframe, she knocked. He'd been waiting.

"I'm glad I didn't have to call for you," he said, without looking up.

"Bob," she said, quietly.

Lifting his head, his mouth fell open as he took in the sight. She could see his eyes lingering on her chest. A tiny spark ignited in the darkness of Vicky's growing despair. For the first time, she admitted to herself that he was not unattractive. Though 15 years older than her 30, she found him ruggedly handsome; standing 6'3" -- looming over her 5'7" -- with a heavy build, square jaw, short dark-brown hair, and blue eyes.

Vicky smiled at his reaction, then sauntered in, turning to place her phone and bag on a small table across from his desk, bending slightly -- allowing him to ogle her ass -- as she surreptitiously aimed her cell phone's camera. He cleared his throat when she sat down, crossing her legs deliberately while he watched.

"Have you come to a decision?" he asked, finally.

"No," she answered, firmly.

"Excuse me?" he returned.

"Why should I help you fuck a girl half your age?" she challenged, her voice even.

"We've been through this, Victoria," he said, loudly. "I'll call the police. You'll be arrested; not to mention fired."

"So, now you're the one committing blackmail," she retorted.

"What's good for the goose, is good for the gander," he said, standing up.

He glared down at her.

"I guess I don't have a choice," she conceded.

Rising, she stepped toward the desk, sliding her hands up her sides, and then across her flat stomach.

"But," she continued, "I can't let you fuck Sarah until I find out what you're capable of."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"She hasn't had much...in the way of size, I mean," Vicky said.

"Eddie doesn't provide that?" he asked.

She couldn't help but laugh.

"Not even close," she revealed.

"I understand," he said.

"I need to see what you've got," she explained.

She positioned herself at the side of his desk.

"There's something you should know," Bob said, moving behind her, and leaning in close.

Vicky turned her head to look into his eyes as his left hand slid up her back.

"I'm not a submissive little bitch, like Eddie," he growled, weaving his fingers into her hair.

Before she could respond, he pulled hard, and she gasped. Holding her securely, his free hand groped at her chest, pulling down her top and bra, exposing her breasts.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't wanted to see those," he said.

"Are you gonna talk all night, or are you going to fuck me?" she spat through gritted teeth.

Bob kicked her feet apart, spreading her legs. His right hand drifted under her skirt and inside her black lace panties.

"Jesus, you're soaking wet," he groaned.

Vicky couldn't deny she was aroused, and moaned loudly when his fingers found her clit. He made no attempt to be gentle, rubbing roughly as her body involuntarily doubled-over. A harsh tug of her mane compelled her to stand up, and she whimpered.

Releasing her hair, his hand shifted to her throat, and he squeezed hard, cutting off her breath. She couldn't disguise the shiver that ran through her body, and, even as she fought for oxygen, Vicky wiggled her ass against him.

"You're already close, aren't you?" he scoffed.

Unable to move her head more than an inch, she nodded. He hesitated for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her cheeks rubbing against his aching cock.

"Don't hurt me," she whined.

His grip on her neck tightened, and Vicky clutched at his hand, trying to pull it away. He continued manipulating her button as she struggled.

"That's it," he mocked. "You're mine now."

Vicky felt the unstoppable sensation blooming in her lower belly. Her labored breath caught in her throat, and she stiffened.

"Cum for me," he commanded.

She had no choice in the matter. Her body convulsed violently as an orgasm ripped through her, exploding every nerve. Bob's hand left her throat, dropping to her chest. He squeezed her right breast while she gulped for the air he'd been denying; writhing as she came. Her knees threatened to buckle, but Bob and the desk provided enough support to keep her from falling.

"More," she pleaded.

Vicky quivered for more than a minute, and the audible evidence of her pleasure echoed off the walls. Her ecstasy had not yet subsided when Bob's hand left her crotch.

"Clean them," he ordered, bringing the sticky fingers to her mouth.

At first she refused, keeping her lips closed tightly. He pinched her nipple, hard, and she yelped, allowing him to push the slick digits inside.

"Do it," he said, as she tried to twist away.

Finally, she relented, winding her tongue around his fingers.

"Does it taste good?" he prodded.

"Mmmm, hmmm," she hummed.

"Good," he snarled.

Pulling his fingers from her mouth, he shoved her forward, bending her over the desk. Then, he planted his left hand in the middle of her back, to keep her in place, and ripped off her underwear, dismissively tossing them aside.

"What are you doing?" she wailed, turning her face toward the camera.

"I'm going to fuck you like the little slut you are," he replied.

"Stop," she wept. "I'm sorry...I..."

"Shut your mouth, whore," Bob shouted.

Once more, his fingers invaded her pussy, and she squirmed, trying to evade the assault.

"Why are you doing this?" she stammered.

"This is exactly what you wanted, you filthy cunt," he seethed.

"No," she bawled. "I don't."

"Now, it's my turn," he declared.

"Please," she begged.

Abandoning her wetness, he fumbled to open his pants. She managed to look back at him, watching as his stiff cock popped free of his underwear; she guessed it to be seven inches long, and, thankfully, thicker than Eddie's. Her fingers clawed at the edges of the desk and she braced herself.

Bob guided himself to her; nudging the head between her slick lips. Without hesitating, he forced himself inside her, steadily sinking deeper. He clenched Vicky's waist as he plunged into her.

"Oh, fuck," she quaked as his hip bones bumped into her ass cheeks.

He paused for several seconds; feeling her wrapped around him. His hands crawled up her body -- his right gripping her shoulder; his left collecting her hair. Retreating several inches, he then pulled her back as he thrust forward, ramming his cock into her.

"Yesss," she hissed as he filled her.

Bob repeated the action. Then again. And, again. Fucking Vicky hard and fast; watching her body shudder each time their bodies collided.

"You like that?" he jeered as he pounded into her. "You like getting fucked like a whore, don't you?"

Before Vicky could reply, she felt his rhythm change. He trembled as he balanced behind her.

"Don't cum inside me," she protested, trying to push back against him.

"Yes," he grunted.

"Don't you fucking dare," she roared.

Vicky escaped his grasp, and slipped off the desk, landing on her knees to his right. Pivoting, he caught her hair once more, pulled her head toward him, and placed his glistening cock on her lips.

"Suck it," he demanded.

She resisted, attempting to turn away.

"Make me cum," he grumbled, dragging the tip of his dick along her cheek.

Reluctantly, Vicky took him in her mouth, tasting herself on him, and tried to relax as the head of his cock entered her throat. Reflexively, her hands flew to his hips, but he held her until she began to gag.

"You're not done yet, bitch," he raged, releasing her.

Raising her head, she glared at him. He returned the look while playing with himself; using long, slow, smooth strokes up and down the shaft.

"Straighten up," he directed. "I'm gonna shoot it on those big tits."

Lifting herself, she sat back on her haunches, and he placed a foot on either side of her. His breathing quickened as he jerked himself.

"Shit," he groaned. "Here it comes.

His entire body tensed, then his hips bucked, knocking her back a few inches, and he shot a stream of cum that splattered across her chest. Taking an unsteady step forward, he deposited hot semen on her pursed lips, and Vicky flinched, turning her head.

Straining to remain standing, Bob fired several more times, coating her breasts with his seed. The sticky fluid oozed downward, some of it dripping into her lap. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as he watched.

"Fuck, that was hot," Bob rasped.

Exhausted, he staggered backward, and collapsed into the chair right beside Vicky's phone.

"I haven't cum that hard in years," he wheezed.

"Not even with your wife," Vicky asked, leading him cautiously.

"No," he admitted, temporarily incapable of rational thought.

"She doesn't do it for you?" she pried.

"These days, I'm lucky if she even looks at my cock," he lamented, "much less puts it in her mouth."

Wearily, Vicky got to her feet, and plucked half a dozen Kleenex from a box on Bob's desk. She began wiping away his cum; taking care to clean herself thoroughly.

"And, when we do have sex," Bob added, without prompting, "she lays there like a dead fish."

"Hmmm, that's too bad," Vicky said, feigning sympathy; slyly inducing him to continue.

He did so.

"It's been this way for 10 years," he said. "I'm fuckin' tired of having blue balls."

Vicky finished scrubbing herself.

"Yeah," she noted, holding up the clump of tissues, before dropping it in the garbage. "I think you've been saving it up."

Having recovered, Bob stood, closed his pants, and moved past her to sit in his chair. He watched Vicky as she hastily adjusted her clothes. She retrieved her things -- including her torn panties -- and walked toward the door.

"I'll expect you back here at the same time tomorrow," he said. "With Sarah."

"Oh, about that," Vicky said, turning. "I'm going to need a raise in order to be your pimp."

"How about I let you keep your job," he retorted.

"In that case, I'll have to make sure your wife sees the video I just shot," she countered, holding up her phone.

"Bullshit," he thundered.

Vicky tapped a button, and Bob heard the audio of the beginning of their encounter. She let it play for a full minute before shutting it off.

"Isn't technology great?" she observed, facetiously. "You can upload video while shooting it, and queue it up to post automatically if you don't stop it."

Bob snapped to his feet, the color draining from his face.

"Turn it off," he commanded.

"Maybe...when I get home," she sneered.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I think another two dollars an hour would be a good start," she responded.

"I can give you 50 cents," he said.

Vicky turned to leave.

"Stop," he said. "I can make it a dollar."

She took another step.

"I can't do more than that without contacting HR," he said.

"Well, if you want to fuck Sarah's pretty little pussy, you'd better get on the phone," she taunted.

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"I'll give you a day," she warned, "then, I'll call everyone at corporate headquarters and complain that you offered me a raise if I'd fuck you."

Half an hour later, safely back at her apartment, Victoria watched the video she'd made. Then, e-mailed a copy to Bob, along with pictures of the bruises he'd left on her neck and breast.

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