This story contains sexual exchanges and activities between adult males, both consensual and non-consensual, and scenarios involving punishment/torture, bondage, domination/submission, humiliation, and exhibitionism. If you can't bear to read such stuff or if it's illegal for you to do so, please stop reading right here. Otherwise, enjoy!
This story is about a submissive young (22-year-old) gay asian male who's gone to work for a multi-national company as a programmer, only to discover that his caucasian supervisor is a sadistic, boi-loving man bent on dominating him and using him for his carnal pleasures. Just to put things into perspective, our protagonist is slim, small and stands at only 5'2" (small even for asian standards), while his supervisor is big, hairy and stands at a beefy 6'4".
Comments and suggestions welcome at: sub_casey@yahoo.com.
Office Slut - Part 5
by Casey
I arrive at the office on Saturday morning with trepidation. I know I have not been called up for work. For one thing, whenever any of us had been called in for overtime in the past, we'd been told of what extra work we'd be doing at least one day earlier. For another, although my memory is a little hazy, I can still recall bits and pieces of that last conversation between you and Mr Lloyd. No, I'm not coming to the office on a weekend for work. I'm being told to come so that I can be used for sex.
The thought that my boss and supervisor can call me up for sex any time they want as if I'm a common street hooker both disgusts and excites me. And the fact that I have no choice but to obey their whims gave me a hard on from the moment I woke up in the morning. Having to shove a buttplug up my ass before I even left the bed made it worse, and my cock stayed hard all the way through breakfast and then the fifteen minute drive to the office. Thankfully you'd started me wearing panties recently instead of going without underwear altogether, or the tent in my pants would have been obvious to anyone.
I'm still uncertain of my own opinion about being shared with Mr Lloyd. Over the last three months you've had exclusive access to my body. Despite the often public humiliation you subjected me to, you never let anyone else use me before this. I wonder how you knew that Mr Lloyd likes men, too. Did you talk to him about us? If so, have you already told him everything? All those humiliations. All those fuck sessions in the toilet and in the pantry and in the main office area when there's no one around? Those late night 'overtimes' when I become your living, breathing plaything bent over chairs and partitions or strung up against his door? All of my shame, exposed. My cock twitches as it hardens even more.
When I get up to our floor, I find that the door is already unlocked, but the office is deserted. I take a peek past the glass door into Mr Lloyd's office but find it dark and unoccupied. Walking along the aisle in-between the other cubicles towards my own, I try to imagine what you and Mr Lloyd have planned for me. One thing I'm fairly certain of, though, is that my young asian ass is set to be plundered by both men very soon. The prospect of my boicunt being introduced to a second cock makes me shudder with anticipation.
I come to my desk and switch on my computer out of habit. As I gingerly lower myself on my chair, careful to minimise the jostling on the black buttplug buried up my boypussy, my gaze falls on the note on my desk, scribbled not so discreetly with a thick marker pen.
"Morning, bitch," It greets me in big red letters. "The moment you arrive, you will immediately take off all your clothes and dump them out of the way. Then, you will wait for us at your desk in only your panties and the buttplug. Do NOT put your clothes back on for ANY reason, or you will regret it for a long, long time."
My knees go weak as I read the note and hear your domineering voice in my head. After only a moment's hesitation, I stand up and, looking around to make sure that I'm indeed alone, begin to remove my clothing. As it's the weekend, I have on a plain blue t-shirt and jeans. I untuck the t-shirt and pull it off over my head. Gooseflesh runs along my arms and shoulder blades at the cool air-conditioning. Then I undo my belt and zipper before pushing my jeans down my legs. Stripping in the office feels almost natural to me now. I fold both items and shove them into a drawer.
My hard cock strains against the front of my frilly red panties, filling it nicely and with the head pushing snugly under the waistband. It tells me just how far I've come from the shy, naive, closeted homosexual that I was before you decided to make me yours, when the prospect of being used sexually by my work superiors turns me on so blatantly.
I sit back down on my chair to check on both my work and personal emails. It feels weird to be sitting there with nothing but a pair of girl panties on, but it also feels very erotic. My personal email, which I used to register on several gay sites, contains several messages asking me for pictures and the like. One guy tells me how excited he is at reading my very submissive profile and how thoroughly he'd make use of me if I lived closer to him than I did. He'd turn me into a collared slave dog and post my naked pictures to all of his friends and also all over the Internet. I get even harder as I imagine how that'd be like, but I also know that I could never actually submit as completely as that as it'd ruin my life. I can't imagine living as a 24/7 sex slave, thinking of nothing else other then pleasing your Master. I want a life of my own, a good career and things to own and such.
After about ten minutes I feel the urge to piss, so I get up and head for the restrooms. The path takes me into the pantry and across the wide, floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the building. Thankfully, the blinds are drawn, or I'd run the risk of being spied by anyone sitting in the backroom of the building behind ours. Still, the thought of being seen in nothing but panties makes my heart beat a little faster. I wish that I'm brave enough to open the blinds and parade myself across the windows.
It takes a bit longer than usual to piss, as I need to relax my rock-hard cock before it can accomplish the feat. I lean back and relax in the feeling of release as the stream of yellow liquid splashes into the porcelain bowl. It still sometimes shocks me that I'd submitted to drinking piss a few times in the past. The liquid waste smells foul and tastes even worse. How could it have happened? But deep down I know the reason. It was because you made me. And you can make me do pretty much anything.
As the stream fades into a trickle, I shake my now half-hard cock a little to get rid of any excess piss before stuffing it back into my panties. Then I reach for the doorknob and yank the door open.
Only to come face to face with two tall men in grey work smocks and caps proclaiming an electrical services company.
My jaw drops and the blood drains from my face. However, judging from their reactions, they're just as surprised as I am.
The moment I recover my wits, I shove at the door and slam it back shut.
Oh god. What am I going to do now? I've just exposed myself as a horny, panty- wearing asian boi to two complete strangers! My heart beats very loudly in my chest as I wring my hands inside the stall. How come I didn't hear anything? I curse silently at my carelessness. What if they tell everyone about me? My life would be destroyed. What if they wait for me outside of the building later so that they can grab me and get a piece of me themselves? Or what if they're homo-bashers and wait to catch me alone so that they can beat me to death? Who let them in, anyway? And how the hell am I supposed to get out of the stall now?
"Open up, bitch," I hear your voice calling out from the outside. You're outside? My mind struggles to keep up with the shock of discovery and the sudden turn of events. You're outside. And you're calling me 'bitch' right in front of the two workmen. Oh my. You must've arranged it all. Oh god.
"Come on, boy. Don't make me have to give the order twice."
Despite the shame wracking me, the cold promise of something far worse in your voice leaves me no choice but to obey. I feel myself shrinking into a little ball as I reach out again for the door. There is a seemingly deafening click as the knob turns in my hand. The door swings open slowly, like the yawning abyss to my doom.
The workmen are still there and still looking down at me with wide eyes and half- hanging jaws. You're standing to one side of them and as I emerge from the stall, you run your eyes up and down my body with undisguised lust. I drop my gaze to the floor and take a very small, hesitant step out of the stall. I can't even begin to imagine what the workmen might be thinking at the sight.
"I told you to wait at your desk," you say in a level voice. I flinch at the tightly-controlled anger in it.
"I.. I'm sorry, Sir. I re.. I really had to pee, Sir."
I'm very painfully aware that the two complete strangers are hearing every word.
"I'm sorry, guys," you seem to be saying to the workmen. "The slut lacks training. I've been trying to make him be more respectful to men for a while now. Bitchboys do not slam the door in the face of their superiors. You guys go on ahead and do what needs to be done. If you need me, we'll be in that room at the other end of the office."
There is no audible response to your remarks but I can imagine the looks of disbelief on their faces. In any case, I have little time to ponder on any of it as you immediately grab my arm in an iron grip. Then you swing me about and propel me through the main office area towards Mr Lloyd's room. I grit my teeth at the pain in my arm, but am unable to do anything more as you drag me about so easily.
Within a few seconds I'm standing in front of the big boss' office and in the next moment, the door is opened and I am flung unceremoniously into the room. As I stumble and regain my balance, I realise that, contrary to my expectations, there are several men in the room instead of just Mr Lloyd.
The boss himself is sitting behind his big desk and smiling broadly at the sight of my near-naked body tottering into the room. Seated on the sofa before the desk are three men, two of whom I've never seen before. The other one is Steve. Steve, whose cubicle is across from yours. My mind goes back to that day when you'd more or less shown me off to him by fingerfucking my mouth as he watched on. Oh god. I should've known that something like this would happen. Here I am, naked except for a pair of skimpy girly panties in a room full of men, two of whom are complete strangers to me. Not to mention the two who'd seen me earlier and are still out there somewhere!
And Steve! Oh god. He'll never look at me the same again from now on.
"Ah, glad you can join us, boy," Mr Lloyd says. Then he turns to the others. "Guys, this is Casey, the bitch we've been talking about. The office slut. Hmm.. 'office slut', I like that. Maybe we should make a new position just for you? Go and stand there in the centre of the room, boy. Let the guys have a closer look at you."
It takes a not-too-gentle nudge from you to make me step forward. I keep my eyes on the floor as my hesitant steps bring me to stand by the coffee table. I can see the three sets of shoes around me and can imagine how the guys are oggling my body.
"He's cute," an unfamiliar voice says. One of the strangers.
"Don't you mean she?" The other one says. "But yeah, and sexy, too." A pause. "And almost completely hairless!"
"He's a natural femboy," you agree. "But I had him go through hair removal treatment a couple times just to be sure."
"Can I touch him?" The first man asks.
"Sure. I can tell you he'd like that. Feel him up all you want while I go and set up the video camera."
The video... Panic seizes me by the guts, enough to make me glance up to see where you're going. For the first time I notice the tripod standing in the far corner of the room. I can see the video cam in your hand as you approach it. Oh no! I can't believe that you're going to record this!
"Please," a small whimper escapes my lips despite myself.
"Hey, he's got a cute little girly voice, too," the first stranger remarks. "I'm going to enjoy listening to you cry out as I fuck you later, boy."
Then a hand falls on my right thigh and begins to carress the back of it. I shudder as the touch sends electric pulses along my skin.
"Very smooth. Just like a girl's."
"How would you know that, Roger?" The second stranger chuckles. "You probably never felt a girl up all your life!"
"Hmm.. Good point."
The other man then starts to feel me up my sides, stroking the lower half of my ribs and then my waist before moving on down my left thigh. As he strokes it, he'd slip his hand under the leg hole of my panties to carress the mound of my bubble- butt. Very soon, all four hands have begun to explore my body, and the constant stroking and rubbing is beginning to have their usual effects on me. I can feel my cock starting to respond.
Only four? I glance out of the corner of my eyes to see Steve sitting back on the sofa. He has his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes are boring into my face very intently. As I stare, the corner of his lips twitch cruelly, like the promise of violent sex. I feel myself flinching away at the sheer desire in that look.
"See," you say from the far corner of the room. "I told you guys she'd like it."
The shame of being referred to as a 'she' only serves to fan the kindling of my lust. Yes, I can no longer pretend it to be anything else. The reality of my life is that I am and will always be your fucktoy. And now you're going to share me with several of your friends. I will become their fucktoy, too. They will use me like a girl, breeding my holes with their manseed. Why don't I just run away? Why do I simply stand there and let them do anything they want to me? Because I like it, want it. I want it more than anything else. The pain and humiliation I suffer at the hands of these men turn me on like nothing else ever had.
"Wow, she's already completely hard," says the man on my left. "And we haven't even begun to fuck her yet!"
"Show them what you have in your pussy, boy." Mr Lloyd, who's been fairly quiet so far, orders me. The hands that have been feeling me up moves away. For a moment, I freeze, not knowing what to do.
"Just bend over a bit and turn around slowly so they all can see what's up your bum," Mr Lloyd explains patiently.
I bend over, placing my hands just above my knees and then start to turn slowly on the carpet.
"Hell," Roger exclaims. "That's a fair-sized one, too." He's obviously refering to my buttplug. "The boy's got a hungry pussy. Will you look at that, John?"
"I think they'd want a better look at it, don't you agree, boy?" Mr Lloyd asks me. "Peel down your panties, just the back of it, until they can fully see the plug."
I move to obey, hooking my thumbs into the waistband on the back of my panties and pulling it down over my upturned mounds. Cool air begins to carress my now naked buttocks. The downward pull on the front of my panties forces my hard cock to one side and almost makes it pop out. I can feel the tears starting to blur my vision as the humiliation starts to overwhelm me.
"Hook the waistband under the plug," Mr Lloyd orders me. "Good. Now bend over more properly and really show them that beautiful, stuffed boycunt!"
"Fuck," I hear Roger say. "He has such white, creamy, rounded buns. Other bitchboys - and probably girls, too - would kill for them. I can't wait to sink my cock between those beautiful globes!"
"Stop turning," Mr Lloyd orders me again. "Now pull that plug halfway out."
I almost moan aloud at that order. With my butt pointing out and one hand on my knee, I grab the base of the plug and pull it slowly out of my chute. Although I'm well greased, the plug has been snugly inside for almost two hours that pulling it out is not completely effortless. Keeping it halfway inside, which put the thickest part just outside my hole, is much harder.
"Nice," John says approvingly. I can feel his breath on my bum as he takes a close look at my anus. I can only imagine how my asslips look as they are wedged open by the thick black toy.
As I hold my ass open by virtue of the plug, I can hear the creak of a chair and a few moments later Mr Lloyd's shoes come into view. He continues walking until he is standing on one side of me, without obstructing Roger, John and Steve's view of my behind.
"I think it's too small," Mr Lloyd announces loudly. I realise he's talking to you. "He should be permanently stuffed with something at least twice as thick."
I almost laugh outloud. He's got to be joking.
"Yeah, I know." Your voice comes back from the corner where you're adjusting the video cam. "I'm just about to get a whole new set of toys for him."
"At least he's got our cocks to play with for now," Roger quips. Low general laughter follows this comment. I can feel my burning cheeks getting even hotter.
"Damn right," Mr Lloyd agrees. "Ok, bitch, now fuck yourself with the buttplug. Do it. Hard and fast."
I do moan this time. The humiliation of being told to fuck myself in front of all the men is overwhelming, and predictably my cock throbs and hardens even more until it seems that it might soon tear through my panties altogether.
Grabbing the base of the plug more securely, I begin to push it back in. The thick bit pops inside my anus, giving me temporary relief. But then I am pulling it back out. Unlike a dildo which usually has a fairly even thickness along it's length, a buttplug has a relatively narrow neck part which your sphincters close over. So every time I pull it out, I'm forcing the plug's thickest part to exit my hole, and every time I push it back in, I'm forcing the same part in while at the same time inadvertently allowing my anus to relax as it closes over the narrow neck, which really only serves to heighten the sensations for the next round of pulling and shoving. It's something you sometimes make me do as a punishment on my hole or when you really want to loosen me up. Does Mr Lloyd know this, perhaps?
Within seconds I've begun to grunt at each in-fuck and out-fuck. I can feel my asslips growing weak and distended as the plug's thickest part keeps ramming in and out of me.
"Mmm.. Look at that hole pouting and then collapsing," says Roger. "I think I'm in love with the boy's pussy already!"
"How does it feel, bitch?"
It's Steve. His familiar voice, which I'm used to hear as being cheerful and smiling is now steely and even a little contemptuous. My face feels as if it's just burst into flames.
"Tell us. How does it feel to have your dirty little cunt fucked with a buttplug?"
The whole room falls silent. It's as if everything hangs in the balance, waiting for my response to Steve's question. In a way, they do, at least with regards to Steve's perception of me. I realise that my hand have stopped moving the plug in and out but nobody had commented on it.
"It.. It feels good."
"Yeah? Do you want to continue fucking yourself with it?"
I nod hesitantly, my lips quivering.
"Then beg us. Beg us to let you continue to fuck yourself with the buttplug."
Shame floods me and the first drops of tears finally start to roll down my cheeks. My crimson-red face feels so thick that it feels completely numb.
"P.. Please.. Please let me f.. fuck myself."
I know that from that moment on, I no longer exist to Steve. At least not the I that is his peer and work colleague, the quiet but smart member of the development team, the friend with whom he and the others would go off and have a drink with on late evenings at the office. To him, I'm probably no longer even human. From now on, he'd look at me and see the same thing you see. A fucktoy. A mindless sexual object who exists merely to give him and guys like him pleasure.
A hand brushes against my panty-covered cock, and suddenly I start cumming.
"Holy.." Roger half-exclaims as I groan and stiffen up in the throes of my orgasm. My hand gropes around and finds purchase on Mr Lloyd's strong forearm as I try to keep myself from sinking to my knees at the strength-sapping release. I can feel the cum building up inside my panties before starting to seep out through the frilly lace. By the end, I'm shaking like a leaf in the wind, still standing only by virtue of my desperate clutch on Mr Lloyd's arm.
The shame is so unbearable now that all I want to do is die. I've just shot my load at the slightest touch while fucking my ass with a buttplug. And all in front of five other men, while clad in a pair of girl panties. If that doesn't announce me as a complete slut, I don't know what would.
"He's really into this, isn't he?" John comments.
"Sorry, guys," you apologise from the far corner of the room. "Cum-control has never been his strong point. I should've attached a cock-ring on him beforehand."
"You kidding?" Roger says. "I want to see him shoot as much as he can. I like to see boys forced to cum whether they want to or not."
"When I fuck a guy," John disagrees, "it's about my enjoyment and not his. I'd never let him cum while I'm using him. Once, I made a boy hold off his orgasm for a whole month while I used him every day. When I finally let him masturbate, he passed out as he cummed."
"Guys, guys," you interject, sounding much closer now. "Let's not get into a debate on the cum-control of sex slaves for now. I'm sure there's enough of him to go around. Anyway, the cam is ready. I think I might've got that last incident on tape, too."
"All right," agrees Roger. "Let's get you out of these messed up panties." The last is directed at me.
The man reaches for the waistband of my panties and then slowly starts to pull them down my legs. He seems to be careful not to let too much of my semen leak out, although there is nothing to be done about the bits that now congeal around my shaft and among the strands of my short pubes. Apart from losing a few more drops on my legs, Roger successfully removes my panties while keeping most of my cum cupped in the fabric in his hands.
My heart sinks as he grins up at me. "Now open your mouth and say 'aaah'."
As I part my lips, Roger shapes the slime-dripping panties loosely into a small bundle and shoves the cum-filled cloth into my mouth.
"Suck it. Suck all of the cum from your panties."
I close my mouth and start to suck on the frilly thing. There is a lot of cum in it, and soon my mouth is filled with the taste and smell of my own semen. While I continue to suck, you nudge me upright and turn me around until I am facing the video cam in the corner. The thought of myself being recorded in such a state horrifies me, but the knowledge that my humiliation can then be played back over and over again to be watched by the men sends tingles up my spine.
"Let a little bit drip down your chin, then swipe it up with a finger and stick it back in your mouth," you order. It takes me three tries to manage that properly. "Good, they're gonna love that."
They.. ?
Suddenly a hand reaches between my legs, latches on to the buttplug buried in me and yanks it out viciously. I let out a muffled grunt and squeeze my eyes shut at the pain.
Mr Lloyd brings the plug around and shoves it right against my nose. "Smell that, boy?" He asks me. "That's the smell of a nasty, dirty boycunt. Your sweet mouth will be working on that, next."
"Meanwhile," you say as you look around at Mr Lloyd and the three men still seated on the sofa, "why don't we all get ourselves comfortable?"
There is a general murmur of agreement and then the men start to undo the buttons on their shirts as well as their belt buckles. All except for Steve.
You notice this, too. "Steve?"
The man shifts his gaze from its intent, predatory study of my features to you. "Can I have his ass, first?" He asks you matter-of-factly.
You blink and look around. "Well.."
"Not for my cock," Steve continues. "You guys can have his mouth first. I want to open him up good with those toys we brought. I want to rip him apart with them."
A chill descends all over my body at his words.
You look like you're thinking for a moment. Then you nod. "Sounds good."
I look on in horror as the five big caucasian men strip all around me, my mouth clamped around a pair of bunched up red panties and sucking my own cum from them, my small slim asian body naked and shivering, my eyes teary but my cock quickly growing hard again at the prospect of more shame and humiliation at the hands of these men. And all while a video camera is recording every detail of the action. I realise then that I am indeed well on my way to becoming the office slut.
(To be continued..)