tagBDSMFace Up To It

Face Up To It


This is a femdom story with scenes of reluctant participation. If you think you might find such material offensive please look for another story.


Chapter 1

I never wanted to be involved. I had only been with the bank a few months, straight out of university, but I did not want them to think I was a spoilsport.

The office party had been in full swing for a couple of hours and a lot of alcohol had been consumed but I moderated my own intake. Rob, the chief trader on the Far East desk, was being his usual oafish self and several glasses of wine were helping to bring out the worst in him.

He was too attractive for his own good and made no secret of the number of notches on his bedpost. There was, therefore an inevitability that he would eventually try it on with me. His mistake was to make his move in the open for all to hear because my equally public reply was a refusal.

I called him an arrogant prick and if he had had any sense he would have laughed it off. Coarse language was the order of the day on the trading desk, and everyone else was prepared to view the exchange as a joke, but Rob would not let it rest.

He referred to me as a lesbian, just within hearing, but worse still, for a newcomer, he suggested that I was not part of the team. I was sorely tempted to reply in kind but managed to rise above it.

It was then that he started a game of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' and he soon had his colleagues baying in approval. At that point I thought about leaving but I was not going to give him the satisfaction.

A gaggle of girls gathered around me protectively and I was grateful for their show of solidarity. "Someone needs to take that shit down a peg or two." It was Pam who had spoken and I guess it came as no surprise. She was one of the secretarial team; a lovely young woman in every sense but she was constantly bemoaning her losing battle with her weight problem. Rob was forever jibing her about it suggesting that if she were ever to shed a few pounds he might even deign to ask her out.

Some of the other girls were a little the worse for wear and they now started whispering amongst themselves leading to some raucous laughter. When they explained to me what they intended to do I was uneasy but, as they were doing it to even the score on my behalf, it was hard to refuse.

Pam disappeared and returned minutes later with a long glass tube with a funnel opening at one end. It was kept as a permanent trophy on the wall of the coffee room and was something of a badge of honour amongst the traders.

As soon as Rob saw it his natural machismo came to the fore and he immediately volunteered. Normally he would have lain down on the floor but the party was being held in the cavernous reception area and some of his colleagues retrieved one of the large marble topped coffee tables from the edge of the room.

He was helped down onto the table top and then the tube was held over his face. He took the end of it into his mouth and signalled his readiness at which a pint of beer was slowly poured into the funnelled end.

Tradition had it that he was held in place so that if he stopped swallowing the remainder of the beer would spill over his face. Normally a couple of the others would pin his shoulders but on this occasion, to whoops of appreciation, two of the secretaries volunteered. They both made a big show of it as they hitched up short skirts and straddled his body. Gina, the lighter of the two, sat astride his chest whilst Karen sat across his thighs.

Rob made much of the fact that they were both former conquests, even hinting at a threesome, but they laughed indulgently.

To his credit he managed the whole pint, notwithstanding the burden of Gina on his chest, but as soon as he finished I immediately straddled him taking up station behind her. As everyone laughed he joined in good-naturedly but the strain of my added weight was apparent.

No sooner was I settled than Clare sat across his shins and he realized the true extent of his predicament. He tried to buck us off, playfully at first then a little more forcefully but with two of us pinning his arms to his sides he was helpless.

For a second or two the atmosphere was uneasy but when Pam reached for the zip of his trousers it erupted again. I sensed that one or two of his workmates were thinking about rescuing him but, outside of the trading office, he was not universally popular and Pam was being cheered on by the majority both male and female.

I could see that his anger was rising, he wanted to swear, but he knew that the only way to save face was to go along with it. He had, after all, been the architect of many similar pranks in the past.

Pam made a show of being disgusted as she delicately slid her fingers into his trousers and flipped his cock into the open.

I had heard the rumours, who had not, and I could not resist a look. I have to admit that, even in its flaccid state, he was blessed and I suspect that, secretly, he actually enjoyed being put on display.

There was a series of clicks as camera phones were produced and some of the girls were egging on Pam to try and add a little more life but even I was not prepared for what happened next.

She moved to the head of the table and, without another word, she sat astride his face. It all happened so quickly. There was a flash of heavy, stockinged, thighs as she flipped up her dress and then she was there, facing us, with a sly smile on her face.

He struggled fiercely, although this was probably not apparent to the others, as his range of movement was severely handicapped by our combined weight. Again, I sensed that one or two people were troubled by the nature of events but most were still laughing.

In truth, I felt a little guilty and assumed he must have been having trouble breathing. Pam, sitting heavily, with her thick velvet dress hiding him from view, would have been enough but there was the added consideration of Gina constricting his chest.

Pam moved just a little and, notwithstanding the raucous noise, I am sure I heard him gasp. I thought that that was to be an end to it but she settled once more. She looked directly at me and, as she did so, she gently rocked her hips.

It was at that moment that I realized that she was enjoying it as more than just a prank. I felt my face redden but, at the same time, I was aware of a tingling in my sex. Without thinking, I shifted a little on his stomach to ease the irritation but in so doing I pressed up against Gina's back.

She laughed and immediately put her head back against my shoulder. Her thick, dark, hair cascaded over me and I was enveloped in her heavy, musky perfume.

I had amicably broken up with my long term boyfriend when we went our separate ways after university, and there had been no one since, but now the warmth and proximity of Gina's very desirable body was giving rise to some very strange and inappropriate thoughts.

I tried to ease away from her but, as I did so, there was fresh crescendo of laughter. Awkwardly, I looked back and was amazed to see Karen with her hand round his cock which was now standing splendidly to attention.

If I thought it impressive before it was now even more so. Karen's delicate fingers could barely encircle it and it throbbed under her touch.

The assumption was, of course, that he must have been enjoying it but I suspected that it was just the autonomic male reaction. I returned my attention to Pam to find that she was making the most of the situation.

Her movements were a little less controlled, her eyes were unfocused and any last doubts I may have had were dispelled. It must have been stiflingly hot beneath her bulk but, instead of the concern that I should have felt, I found that I was getting hotter myself.

The focus of every ones attention was Karen, and they now set up a rhythmic chant as she pumped her hand ever faster, but I could not take my eyes off of Pam. There was a new urgency about her and her face was determinedly set as she ground her hips until, finally, I saw that she had lifted her feet from the floor altogether.

Her eyes were tightly closed and her body was shaking almost imperceptibly. Gina had not seemed to notice but I felt an acute sense of envy as I realized that she was climaxing on his face.

Pam quickly composed herself as Karen brought the show to a close. To the disappointment of her audience she did not make him come deciding that it would be more fun simply to leave him frustrated. She was the first to get up from him and we quickly followed suit.

I felt a little embarrassed when I saw that his shirt now bore a stain that had nothing to do with perspiration but no one else seemed to notice. Instead they were checking on him. He appeared a little spaced out, unsure of his surroundings, and for a moment or two he didn't even bother to adjust his trousers.

As he gathered himself I could see the fury in his eyes but a spontaneous round of applause and a reaffirmation of his status as an all round good sport defused the situation; nevertheless, we deemed it prudent to retire to the ladies room.

We laughed uproariously, particularly when Karen made a pantomime of scrubbing her hands clean, but I cornered Pam and smiled as I whispered. "That was outrageous!" She checked to make sure none of the others were looking. "Do you want to know the best of it?"

Before I could respond she lifted the front or her dress and I gasped. Not only was she not wearing panties but she was sporting the thickest growth of hair that I had ever seen on a woman.

As we rejoined the party I feared another confrontation with Rob but he seemed to be having a good time with the two girls who were on attachment from our Milan office.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and I was starting to think about a taxi home when I was politely tapped on the shoulder. "Do you need a lift?"

It was Simon the head of the Settlements Office. As part of my accelerated graduate training I had spent a few days with Simon and his small team earlier in the year. The office was considered a bit of a backwater but I was required to have a working knowledge of its operations.

Simon was sweet and I suspected that he had developed a crush on me. At twenty eight he was seven years older but it could almost have been the other way round. He was a bright young man but lacked Rob's natural assertiveness and, for now, his career seemed to have stalled.

The girls called him Clark Kent and it was easy to see why. He was tall and well built with boyish good looks and even wore similar, unfashionable, glasses. I had no qualms about accepting a lift from him but I did not want him to read too much into it.

He made small talk as we drove out of the city but I listened distractedly. My mind was still buzzing with the events earlier in the evening and the prospect of a warm bed and my trusty vibrator was growing ever more appealing.

When we arrived outside my building there were a number of youths congregated around the entrance. I told him that they were harmless but he insisted on seeing me to my door.

I got out my keys and turned to say goodbye but he looked so forlorn that I found myself offering coffee whilst at the same time desperately hoping that he would be gallant enough to refuse.

Unfortunately, his face lit up and he followed me into my flat which was a complete tip. I am normally tidy by nature but I had been away at the weekend and out every night since.

I cleared the armchair so that he could sit down and, having made coffee, I took the sofa. Whilst I was in the kitchen he had taken off his glasses, the first time I had seen him without them, and it did wonders for him. He was so much more attractive without them, and I thought about telling him so, but he read my mind.

"I don't want them calling you 'Lois Lane'." "I'm sorry?" "You let 'Clark Kent' take you home" I must have let my discomfort show but he smiled disarmingly. "I know what they call me; besides, you'd be more at home with Spiderman."I was too bemused to answer and he started to laugh. "I think you're beautiful; you remind me of Kirsten Dunst"

I guess that there is a passing resemblance, albeit I am a natural blonde, but I was more concerned about the familiarity of the remark. I was beginning to think that he was besotted.

I steered the conversation back to less personal topics but I was amused to see that he kept taking surreptitious glances at my legs. I do not know what possessed me but I started to tease him.

To begin with I kicked off my shoes and rubbed my foot against my calf. It was a simple, innocent, movement but he made a point of looking away and he lost the thread what he was saying.

Caught up with the spirit of devilment I stretched languorously and then tucked my legs up underneath me. My party dress had a very short skirt and my change of position caused it to ride up.

I was now turned slightly away from him but his reward was an expanse of thigh and I wondered how long he could resist. He took an unnatural interest in the Yves Tanguy reproductions on the wall but he was fighting a losing battle.

He gave a first, furtive glance, only to wrench his eyes away but then he made much of sitting up straighter so that he could take a longer look. I asked him about the party, whether there was anyone who had caught his eye, and, as I did so, I idly picked at a non-existent thread on my skirt making a point of lifting it a little towards the light.

He was totally perplexed. My suggestion that he was on the look out for some one and my steadfast refusal to acknowledge, in any way, that it might be me had him confused. He was too much of a gentleman to come straight out with it but his body told its own story. He was now having to sit with his hands in his lap to cover an all too obvious erection.

My heart was beating a little faster and I was no longer feeling tired. My thoughts went back to Rob and the frustration he must have felt when Karen teased him to the edge and now I had Simon in a similar position.

I like to think of myself as a nice person but, at that moment, some darker spirit was at work within me. "You don't have to hide it..."

It took him a second or two to realize what I was talking about but when he did so he blushed furiously.

"Let me see it..." He looked at me aghast as if I had asked him to reveal himself in the middle of a shopping precinct rather than in the privacy of my flat. I thought, for a moment, that he was going to get up and leave but the possibility that his ultimate fantasy might be about to be fulfilled held him in check.

I could see the turmoil in his eyes. He wanted it to be romantic, a gentle beckoning towards the bedroom, not this hideous blatancy. "Don't be coy..."

He wanted to say something but could not find the words. On the one hand his goddess had fallen from her pedestal but he was the victim of his own baser instincts. He could not hold my eye as he slowly and awkwardly worked down the zip of his trousers.

His erection needed little encouragement to spring free and he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. He was not quite in Rob's league but was longer and thicker than the average.

He instinctively took hold of himself, more to cover his embarrassment than to brag, but the livid head betrayed his excitement. "Stroke it for me...do it slowly."

He looked as if he had been caught in the act by his mother, and it confirmed my suspicion that, despite his age and obvious good looks, his experience with women was limited. He remained frozen in indecision and I decided to help things along.

"Do you like my legs?" I lifted my skirt a little higher giving him a glimpse of tanned flesh above my stay up stockings and he whispered under his breath. "Oh God..."

His hand began to move but with a delicacy that confirmed that he was afraid of coming too soon. To add to his torment I slowly uncurled my legs and stretched them out in front of me with my toes pointed before relaxing with my thighs slightly parted.

He could have looked between my legs but his innate sense of probity would not allow him and I was amused to see that the strain was causing him to perspire. "Come over here..."

It was hard to keep my laughter in check as he waddled awkwardly, still holding himself. Any other man would have presented his erection to my mouth but, from the look on his face, I could see that he just wanted to kiss me. As he leaned over me I put my finger to his lips. "Just kneel here..."

He went to his knees, grateful that he was a little less obviously on display, but he was still unsure of me. I made him wait for a few seconds and then I opened my legs a little wider presenting the inside of my knee. "Kiss it for me..."

He bent stiffly and pecked a single kiss but he could no longer resist a glance between my legs. For an instant some vestige of my old self almost made me close them but the thrill of what I was doing won out.

I allowed my legs to fall wider apart. "A little higher..." He hesitated but then kissed further up my inner thigh and I saw his nostrils flare momentarily. Only then did it occur to me that I must have smelled a little ripe. I had had no opportunity to clean up properly since the party and my panties were now wet through for a second time.

"Don't stop..." He looked uncertain. I guess that this was not how he had envisaged the evening panning out and it was probably all a little too close to nature when compared to his fantasy.

He reached the dark band at the top of my stocking and it seemed to act as a psychological barrier for him. He kissed repeatedly on the same spot and was loathe to venture further onto bare flesh.

I felt an irrational annoyance but, in truth, it must have seemed an unedifying prospect. I could, by now, smell my own arousal and for reasons I could not explain I had not been so turned on for a long time. "Don't disappoint me..."

He crossed the border but his kisses were unsure, a mere brushing of the lips, and I wanted no room for doubt; I opened my legs altogether to let him know exactly what was wanted of him.

He looked up imploringly, his eyes begging me to relent, but the very fact that I could make him do it was stoking the fire. He moved ever inward and then paused uncertainly at the very edge of my panties. "Kiss me..."

I used the words that he wanted to hear but not in the context that he wanted to hear them. He pulled back just a little and I could see the conflict rage within him. He wanted me so badly but I was making him pay a high price.

His neck stiffened as he pursed his lips and leant forward to place a kiss on my panties at the centre of my sex. Incredibly, that one touch, with its suggestion of reverence, was enough to take me over the edge.

The tension I felt, as I waited to see if he would go through with it, was suddenly dissipated as a shock wave of pleasure rolled outwards from my sex to tingle my whole body.

Without thought I put my hand to the back of his head and held him close as I came to terms with the surprise. I was left limp by the intensity of it and suddenly felt a desperate need to use the bathroom.

I excused myself unceremoniously and left him waiting as I gave myself time to clean up and recover.

When I came back he was sitting on the sofa with his clothing adjusted, trying to look casual, but my reappearance clearly excited him.

"Simon. Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling too great. Would you be okay if we called it a night?"

He looked totally crestfallen and I thought he was about to try and talk me round but his good manners held sway and he got to his feet. "Another time perhaps; I could take you to dinner..." I smiled kindly. "That would be nice. Let's talk about it next week."

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