Your Slut Bitch

Even if I didn't already know for sure, anyone could tell it was your last night in the office prior to a major trip. It was the way you kept rushing from issue to issue, obviously trying to cross off as much as possible prior to your departure. As a result, everyone, including me, kept their heads down. Days like today were fairly predictable: what you found efficient, others found chaotic and very unfriendly, especially when you got stressed and the glare became constant.

The fact that I was sleeping with the boss didn't seem to offer me much protection on days like today, other than sometimes knowing what bra and knickers combination you were wearing that day.

Even if I hadn't spent the night and seen you get dressed, I knew they would always be matching, usually Italian and quite expensive, but always matching. It was just one of your quirks, along with never agreeing to morning meetings unless good coffee was provided and an almost anal obsession with grammar.

I often wondered what the office reaction would be if it became common knowledge that we were.... well, obviously not a couple, but something.

I guess bonk buddies was the closest appropriate term although that didn't account for the power dynamic when you got angry or stressed about the office and practically forced/ordered me to give you some relief. Not that I got particularly upset about that; for some reason dominant women in authority have always turned me on. A bit like Lucy Liu in Charlie's Angels when she wears the black leather outfit, but in your case obviously not Chinese. The rest of the image, however, seemed quite appropriate: short, thin, small high breasts and a surprisingly flexible body from your years of ballet, with a preference for kinky outfits.

If only the rest of the office knew what a kinky bitch you were underneath your corporate exterior. Your collection of sex toys alone - dildos, vibrators, nipple clamps, strap-ons, slave collars, costumes, patent leather stiletto boots and sex swing - would provide enough stock to start a small sex shop. Instead all they saw was the obsessive, occasionally manic, career bitch who seemed to have only a passing awareness of her department.

It still surprised me that you had revealed your other side to me when you "took" me at that conference. Technically I suppose what you did could be considered rape, but I have always shied away from the definition, primarily because I wanted it just as much as you did, even if I couldn't articulate that need at the time. Somehow you knew that tripping me to the ground and smothering me with your cunt until I licked you to orgasm, with your heels against my ears, was something I absolutely needed. The fact that you immediately walked off to your next conference seminar as soon as you had cum only cemented your dominance.

As a result, by the time you returned to find me still in your room I was already your bitch, even before you pulled the strap-on from your bag. I still remember the way you made me look into your eyes so you could see my transformation as your strap-on slowly but irresistibly penetrated me until I could feel your groin tight against mine and you officially made me your "bitch." Even now, just thinking about that day makes my cock hard.

I could hear you around the corner, berating a colleague for something or other, almost certainly not their doing, but being found at fault anyway. As the rant finished I heard you walking towards me. Keeping my head down I concentrated on my work in the hope you would just keep going, but no joy. Without even stopping I heard your voice ring out, "Rupert, be in my office in five minutes with the Landau-Masters file and make sure it is up to date before you get there."

So much for keeping my head down, I thought as I went to get the file. Landau and Masters were two high profile clients with a massively dysfunctional relationship, which generated no end of grief for us back in the office, but who senior management seemed to love due to the huge fees they generated. Quickly reviewing the file to check it was current, I made my way to your office and knocked.

As usual your only response was "Enter, close the door." Even though I knew this was how you usually responded to someone at your office door, I grinned quietly to myself, grateful that I wasn't insecure.

"I've got the file..." I began, but you interrupted me abruptly.

"Shut up and listen. I am going to have to work late to get everything ready for the trip, but I need some relief. I don't care if you go home once your work is finished, but be downstairs in the car park at 2130h."

I listened intently as you clarified your expectations. To be precise, at 2130h exactly I was to be bent over the bonnet of your car, trousers down, a blindfold around my eyes and my ass lubed.

"What about security...?" I began, but you interrupted me again.

"Relax, the security system is being tested at that time, so the cameras will be down for 15 minutes and all the staff will be in a meeting."

As if changing gear you started to glare at me suddenly, the tone of your voice noticeably less friendly.

"I saw you flirting with that new intern the other day, what were you thinking?"

Christ, I thought, you're in one of those moods. Normally you encouraged me to lust after our colleagues so I could confess to you what I would do to each of them if opportunity permitted. I think you liked both the voyeurism and the power implicit with controlling the sex lives of your staff. Every once in a while, however, the pendulum shifted and the idea of me just talking to another woman would set you off.

Opening the Landau-Masters file you dropped something on top of the most recent document and quickly closed the file.

"Oh yes," you continued, "You'll need to be wearing that when I meet you in the garage. Now get out and let me get some work done."

Taking the file, I quickly retreated to an empty office to see what I was supposed to wear. As I suspected, it was the purple g-string you had put on this morning. Judging by the warmth and wetness, you must have just removed it from your body. Whilst I appreciated the kinkiness, I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to get into them. They were tight on your body; to say your panties were going to be a tight squeeze was a significant understatement.

Already turned on by the uncertainty of what would happen later tonight, I went to the bathroom to put your knickers on. Squirming my way into them took longer than I anticipated, not helped by the sensation of the silk rubbing tightly against my cock and balls which kept my erection constant. In the end I got them on and tucked my cock into the tiny patch of cloth at the front, the string part tight and deep inside my butt cheeks. Going back to my desk I was constantly aware of my compressed cock and the rubbing of the string inside my ass.

Somehow I managed to get everything I needed to get done and was in the process of clearing my desk when the phone rang, the extension number being yours. Answering quickly, I heard your voice soft in my ear.

"You're wearing them already aren't you?"

After responding with a yes I heard you laugh quietly and reply "You're such a slut," before hanging up.

Thanks to a run of lucky traffic lights, I was home in 10 minutes. Two minutes later I was on the couch in just the g-string, my cock released and glad of the extra room. I figured I had another 60 minutes before I needed to head back to work and meet you as directed. Two episodes of Futurama later, I was dressed in chinos and a football jumper, obviously still wearing your panties, my ass was lubed and my nipples were clamped with your favorite nipple clips.

I arrived at the car park with five minutes to spare, parked the car next to yours at the far end of the car park and mentally ran through what I needed to do next. I figured I would lose the chinos, but keep the football top on. That way if anyone happened to wander through the car park I would look relatively respectable - well, as much as possible, and the low lighting would help.

With only two minutes to go I got into position, one of your scarves around my head to blindfold me, my forearms resting on the bonnet of your car, my body bent so my ass was prominent, all the time thinking, what if someone sees me?

I am fairly sure it was the longest two minutes of my life. After a short eternity I heard the elevator ding in the distance at the other end of the car park, followed by a couple of muffled voices, the roar of an engine starting, then diminishing as the car left the car park. The silence that followed was deafening.

All of a sudden my ass exploded in pain as your hand landed on it with what seemed like tremendous force. Somehow you had gotten behind me without a sound and commenced to spank my ass. Inside my head was a combination of pain, humiliation, lust and a lingering doubt that maybe it wasn't you behind me delivering the spanking. That doubt soon disappeared when I felt you pull the g-string as tight as possible up into my ass, then tickle my balls with your nails in fleeting, feather-like touches that almost turned me to jelly. It was one of your signature moves. I felt a sense of relief knowing it was soon, followed by a sharp pain as your fingers closed around my balls and squeezed hard.

Your voice seemed to echo across the garage, although I assumed that was because of how close we were.

"You had better be ready slut, I have a new dildo to break in."

Behind me I heard the click of what sounded like a flick knife, my assumption rapidly confirmed as you cut your panties and pulled them off me before pushing my body down onto your car bonnet.

Reaching back to hold my ass cheeks open, I brushed my fingers against your dildo which felt huge to my unseeing touch. Positioning the head of the dildo at the entrance to my ass, you penetrated me with just one thrust. I screamed in disbelief as I struggled to relax and accept your cock. It felt huge. One small part of my brain was vaguely aware you had started to commence slow, relatively gentle thrusts, but the rest of me was just trying to process the scale of the penetration.

I was suddenly conscious that you had started to fuck me with your usual vigor. Obviously you had given me all the transition time I was going to get. Despite my scattered mental state my body responded as per your training, pushing back up to meet your downward thrusts. I felt your hands roaming my body and your pleasure at discovering the nipple clamps.

"Good bitch," you breathed in my ear as you pulled them tight, one after the other, stretching my already pain filled nipples away from my body.

Underneath the almost relentless onslaught of your rubber cock I was being slowly, but irreversibly transformed into a quivering slut. The shock and awe of its entry had been replaced with pleasure and an almost tangible need to take as much as you could dish out.

"Harder," I heard myself moan without any conscious planning. "Take me, hurt me, fuck me as hard as you can, then fuck me harder."

Even with the blindfold I could "see" the smug look on your face. You had taken me to this point previously but never as quickly.

As your thrusts gained intensity, like a steam engine coming up to full speed, I felt your hands on my hips, getting maximum penetration. I was close to cuming and was blathering like a drunken fool.

"Fuck me, rape me, make me your slut bitch forever." The words emerged from my mouth like some bizarre mantra.

Suddenly I felt your right hand around my balls, pulling them roughly, then in perfect timing with your next thrust, squeezing them hard as your cock lanced through my body. I cried out as I released, the intensity of the fuck causing me to spray cum all over your radiator screen and bonnet.

You were still fucking my now non-responsive body, but winding down like a runner after a sprint, the diminishing thrusts a welcome reminder of the pleasure and pain you had just delivered. You reached down to my cock and wiped my cum on your fingers, then pushed them into my mouth to lick clean. As I licked, you surprised me by removing your cock from me. The void in my ass was almost painful, my audible disappointment obvious as I lay slumped over your car.

I felt you leaning over my body, then you whispered in my ear.

"Well that should keep you going for the next 72 hours while I'm away, so no talking to interns." Returning to your official public self you continued, "Now get your ass off my car."

As I dressed and started to contemplate how I was going to sit down and drive home, it suddenly occurred to me that in the middle of my sexual frenzy I would have participated in any sexual act for you, no matter how depraved. Then I remembered, of course I would. After all, I am your slut bitch!