Date: Wed, 9 Apr 2008 13:56:44 +0800 (CST)
From: Casey Jordan <sub_casey@yahoo.com>
Subject: Office Slut: Part 1

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 1
(M/m, anal, toys, reluc, interr, humil, spit)

by Casey



"No lunch today," says the private message from you on yahoo messenger. "I
need to get off bad".

My heart starts to beat faster just reading those words, knowing what they
usually mean. From then on I can hardly concentrate on my work, my mind
helplessly wandering to similar situations, previous occasions on which you
had sent just such a message to me. You must have noticed it, too, for a
few minutes later another message flashes on my screen. "You look like you
can hardly wait. You're such a transparent little slut." My hardening cock
twiches. Shame overcomes me as I drop my gaze meekly to the floor.

When the others finally ask me out to lunch I politely decline, saying that
I had a late breakfast and that I want to finish some extra stuff. Some of
them look down skeptically at me, while a couple others give me advice.
"Don't work too hard, man," Jason tells me with a pat on my back followed
by a knowing glance at you, who seems to be engrossed in some reports on
your desk, sitting across the aisle, four cubicles away. I feel my heart
give a lurch as Jason continues on his way.  Does he know? Do the others
know? I've always feared that, in your wild and frequent desires to take
me, somebody might have seen or heard something. If word got out..

Once the others are all gone, you look up from your reports and gaze over
at me seriously. I can only wait, petrified to my chair as you stand up and
saunter slowly over to my cubicle, rubbing your obvious bulge lewdly as you
do so. I know all about that huge monster you pack in your pants. It's
long, it's thick and it's always hungry.

"Stand up and strip," you command me, your tone brooking no argument. You
are always supremely confident that I will obey you, as if you have a
divine right to be obeyed by me anytime, anywhere. And you do. I have no
choice but to obey.  Pushing my chair back nervously, I stand up - my small
young asian frame barely reaching your chest - and begin to unbutton my
shirt.

"Hurry up, faggot," you urge me impatiently. "Everything off, quickly!"

I have barely finished with the buttons before you take hold of the collar
of my shirt and yank it away off my body. You fling the shirt away like so
much rag, causing it to lie crumpled on the floor near the aisle. My hands
are shaking now as they turn to my belt buckle, but you let me finish with
it myself this time, merely crossing your arms on your chest and looking on
as I slide my trousers down my smooth hairless legs. What little hair I had
went quickly once you decreed that I keep myself smoothly-shaved except for
my head and a little patch over my now not-so-private parts. As I step out
of my trousers, you extend one foot to tug at them and then kick them away
off to one side. It's not enough that I stand there naked except for my
shoes and socks (you've forbidden me from ever wearing any underwear); you
want me to feel completely helpless and vulnerable so you make sure my
clothes are strewn all over the place, as far away from me as possible.
You know me too well. My naked form stands small and fragile facing you, my
hard 5- inch cock bobbing in the cool office air.

You take hold of my shoulders and turn me around roughly. I can sense you
bending down to reach for the ring that is dangling from a piece of string
between my legs. I gasp as you slide a finger in it and begin to pull on
the string, feeling the pressure begin to build in my guts. I grit my teeth
as you pull harder. I can feel my anal lips slowly giving way, pouting
outwards as you pull steadily on the string. Within seconds I can feel the
first anal bead appearing from my nether hole. You continue to pull firmly,
but not quickly, just enough to tease the thick sphere out gradually, a
sphere that is slightly bigger than the average pingpong ball.

"Bend over. I want to see this," you command me.

I obey quickly, bending over and placing my palms on my knees, arching my
back down and pushing my butt out the way you say I should always do
it. You continue pulling slowly until the sphere is halfway out. I am
panting now since my hole is being stretched at its widest. Then you stop,
making me wonder until I feel the bead slowly popping out the rest of the
way on its own. I cannot help but to let out a low moan as this happens.
You've always known how to make me feel like a slut, and that is exactly
how I feel as the bead slides out of my pouting boyhole.  You repeat this
process with the second bead, which is slightly smaller than the first one
but still causes me to moan as it pops out. As you start on the third, I
begin to relax, knowing that they only get smaller.

Then, suddenly... YANK!!!

"Nnnnnnnnnnngggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!" I moan loudly and long, almost like a cow
in labour. My knees almost give way as you yank the whole thing completely
out of me in one swift motion. I feel as if my guts are being pulled out
along with it, and I can feel my ass-walls and lips collapsing outward,
twitching in the air for a couple of seconds before my natural reflexes
pull them back in. I throw my head back and continue to pant and moan, my
feet staggering for purchase as I strive to keep from falling over and
upsetting you.

As I continue to whimper, something flashes in front of my face and I focus
my eyes on them. With your hand reaching over my head, you are dangling the
string of beads in front of my face. I can see them, all eight balls
glistening with my own assjuice.

"Take them in your pretty little mouth," you order me. "And you'd better
take them all."

I push myself further forward, asshole still smarting and winking from the
previous ordeal, and take the first and smallest ball into my mouth. I know
that just holding it in my mouth wouldn't do; you'd want me to 'make love
to it', as you always want me to do with anything that goes into my mouth.
So I run my tongue over the bead and flip it over and over in my mouth,
licking all the juice from it and swallowing. You shake the string
slightly, urging me to go on and take another. Obediently I slide my tongue
out and take the second one, cleaning it of my own assjuice. By the time I
reach the fourth bead, my mouth is becoming fairly stretched. The fifth
ball has nowhere to go but inside my left cheek, while the sixth ball
pushes two other balls to the other side, filling my right cheek. My mouth
is now very full, both my cheeks puffed out to accomodate the beads that
just spent half the day in my boy-ass.

You shake the string again. "I told you to take them all," you warn me. But
try as I could I cannot quite manage it.

"Useless little cunt," you swear at my disobedience. "You _will_ take them
all."

Taking hold of my little waist with your other hand you begin herding me
forward towards my desk. Then you push my bent-over form onto the desk, my
chest pressed hard against the cool wood. The desk is kind of low so this
makes my ass push up and out towards you, exposing my hole completely to
your gaze. You gather the remaining two, largest beads in the palm of your
hand and begin to mash them against my lips, forcing them to go into my
over-stretched mouth, eliciting muffled moans from me.  "Mmmphh...
Hmpfff...."  Tears begin to gather in my eyes.

I hear the sound of your zippers as your other hand frees your member from
its confines. Then the hand presses down on the small of my back, trapping
my smooth little body under the upcoming onslaught. Within moments I can
feel the head of your cock pushing against my tight opening.

You break into me easily, taking only about a minute to bury six inches of
your thick shaft into my boychute. You know that is more or less the
deepest I can accomodate, but it has never stopped you from trying to stuff
the remaining three inches inside me anyway. With one hand pressing down on
my back and the other forcing the beads into my mouth, you begin to grind
against me, screwing my boycunt in a circular motion in an attempt to force
more of your cock into me. I can feel the hefty girth of your tool - almost
twice the thickness of my own - pressing against my asswalls, forcing them
to balloon out of proportions. Your cockhead pokes and probes at something
deep inside my guts, urging it to give way. I remember your promise to me,
that one day I _will_ take all of you in me, even if you have to shove your
hand in and re-arrange my insides yourself.

I imagine what it would be like if someone were to step in at that moment.
There I am, bent over my own desk in only my socks and shoes, my mouth
fully stuffed with anal beads and being forced to take more, my little body
bouncing back and forth as you ram your throbbing mancock in and out of my
boycunt. I am grunting and moaning like a bitch, partly because of your
cock raping me and partly because each in-stroke would force my mouth to
stretch even more around the slime-covered anal balls. The two remaining
beads are now almost completely in, my lips stretched and open, my mouth
stuffed to obscene shape with the white balls.

Pushing down even harder on my back, you lean your much larger body onto
mine and begin pumping into me even harder, slamming my thighs into the
edge of the desk mercilessly. It seems to me like everyone in the building
must be able to hear the racket as the desk in turn slams repeatedly into
the partition walls.  You breed me like this for what seems like hours,
oblivious to my yelps of pain and the flailing of my arms as they push
despairingly and ineffectually at your strong steel-like hands and pumping
hips. Drool drips continuously from my splayed open mouth, making a sizable
pool on the desk along with my tears. The fact that anybody might come into
the office at any minute and witness my abuse and degradation finally
drives me over the edge and before I know it, my rock- hard boyclit is
spraying large amounts of boy-sperm all over the carpet.

It is not the first time that I cum without touching myself under your
assault.

Suddenly you yank me off the table and push me down roughly onto the floor.
Again I know what you want and I wait there on my hands on knees, my back
low and my butt high. Soon I can feel your hands on my hips, pulling me
back onto you as your mancock slams into me again. As your red hot poker
settles into its customary glove, you reach out to grab my hair in your
fist and pull my head back. You fuck me like this for about 10 minutes,
your hand jerking my head back painfully in tandem with your cock plowing
into my depths. Without your hand to keep them in, the anal beads begin to
untangle and finally fall out of my mouth. This also means that my cries
are no longer muffled, and cry out I do, and sniffle and whimper like a
poor raped bitch.

Then you lift me up, one arm around my small waist and the other hand
firmly cluthing my hair to keep me upright, your cock never leaving my
hole, and carry me over into the pantry. I am now no longer a stranger to
being carried around everywhere during a fuck, since one of the first
promises you ever made to me was that you would fuck me everywhere, that
there wouldn't be any place in the office or anywhere else for that matter
where i wouldn't take your cock inside me. In the pantry, you lay me down
on the round coffee table, twisting my body on your cock until I am lying
on my back on the table. You lift my legs onto your thick shoulders and
hunker down low over me, pressing my knees far enough that they are almost
slamming into the table on either side of my head at each in-stroke. You
proceed to power-fuck me like this long and hard. The force of your fucking
shakes the table constantly and would at times cause it to tilt and slam
noisily back onto the floor. I wonder what the people in the office
downstairs are thinking.

Finally, I can feel you tensing up, and on the last in-stroke you keep your
cock inside me, grinding it into my guts. You hunch down lower until your
face is inches away from mine, my knees this time pressed firmly down onto
the table effectively folding my body in two. You let out a long low growl
as your cock begins to pulse, once, twice. On the third pulse your rich
mancum spurts into my depths, a thick strong jet I can actually feel
spraying my insides, followed by another, and another. You unload eight or
nine spurts inside me, filling me with the essence of your manhood, adding
to the gallons you have already deposited over the last few months. As you
pump your huge load into my sweaty, fevered little boy body, my eyes glaze
over and I cum again, shooting my own semen hard onto my chest and belly.

As my young balls surrender their last few squirts of cum, you stare deeply
into my eyes and open your mouth. I can see your throat moving and I open
my own mouth wide, knowing what is coming. I wait demurely, teary-eyed and
panting, as a big glob of spit appear in your mouth and plops its way down
into mine. I savour the thick liquid on my tongue, tasting the totality of
your hold over me, the utterness with which I belong to you, just the way
you say I must. Then I swallow it, my eyes never leaving yours, feeling
more worthless than I've ever been.

Satiated, you pull your softening mansnake out and pack it back into your
pants. "Don't clean up," you tell me before you leave. "You can put your
clothes back on now. But don't forget to stuff the beads back in!"

I get up gingerly from the table, careful not to let your cum leak out, and
make my way slowly back to my desk, picking up my pants and shirt along the
way. I'm now much more aware of my nakedness and I quickly shove the anal
beads back into my asscunt, noting how some globs of cum are squeezed out
around the balls anyway. I pull on my trousers and button my shirt back on.
The sweat on my body and the streaks of cum on my chest and belly
immediately make my shirt stick to my skin. I feel sticky and dirty. As I
look down at my humiliating state in despair, I can see you looking over at
me with a smirk on your face.

Just as I finish tucking my shirt in and buckling up my belt, the first of
our colleagues return from lunch. I sit down and pretend that I have been
working all the while. But the feeling of cum seeping out of my boypussy
onto my pants makes me feel so degraded and used, and the smell of semen
wafting from my cubicle and my body seems to be overpowering. Surely some
of my co-workers would notice? Surely they have begun to suspect, somewhere
in the back of their minds, the truth about how you use this cute little
asian boyslut when they aren't looking..?