Date: Tue, 15 Apr 2008 10:45:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Casey Jordan <sub_casey@yahoo.com>
Subject: Office Slut: Part 3

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 3 (M/m, oral, reluc, interr, humil)

by Casey



It's fairly early in the morning when something flashes at the bottom of my
computer monitor. I glance at it and see your name on the title. "Shit," I
thought as I suddenly remember the assignment you gave me yesterday
afternoon. I had been so busy for the rest of the day that I completely
forgot about it and the fact that it was due this morning. I continue
swearing at myself as I click on the flashing rectangle.

"Hello fag," says the single-lined message in the Yahoo Messenger window.

I glance surreptitiously over at you but you are not looking at me. I am
just about to reply when I see the notification indicating that you are
typing another message. I wait.

Within a few seconds a new line appears under the first one.

"I bet you're wondering how it'd feel to have my cock shoved up your
boycunt right now."

My heart lurches, my cock twitches and my asshole tightens
instinctively. Even after all this while a part of me still resents how my
body reacts so violently and uncontrollably to you. A simple message like
that seems enough to transform me immediately from a normal young man to a
ravening, cock-hungry boyslut who just can't stop thinking about other
men's cocks.

"Well, tough luck," a third line appears. "But tell you what, go upstairs
into the meeting room right now, undo your zipper, and wait for me."

My knees go weak. Oh god. You've apparently found yet another way to use
me.

"And make sure you stand facing the door," says the fourth and final
message.

I almost let out an involuntary whimper as you once again so easily take
control of me. I can barely sit up as the feeling of utter helplessness
washes over me, siphoning my energy away and suffusing my muscles and
joints with a weakness I find both delicious and intoxicating. With just a
few words you've stripped me of all of my outer shell and laid my pitiful
gibbering soul bare to the world and your cruel designs. Oh, the power that
you have over me!

I rise slowly from my chair, my legs shaking slightly and my heart thudding
in my chest. I keep my gaze lowered as I make my way between the others'
cubicles towards the door. Outside, the lift opens to reveal three other
passengers, all of whom work in the various other offices located in the
same building. As I enter and press 4, I try to focus my thoughts on other
things, praying fervently that my cock, unrestrained by any sort of
underwear as it is, would not betray me in public. It's been some time
since my own cock obeys me though, as it now seems to be more your creature
than mine. The softest word, the slightest look from you is enough to make
it respond and stiffen. There was a time when it never crossed my mind to
worry about such things, but that was before you took control of me, before
you made my body yours.

The familiar lady at the reception counter smiles at me as I enter the
fourth floor, which houses the company's top management and various meeting
rooms.

"Here for the meeting?" she asks pleasantly. I nod and smile back,
belatedly realising that there is indeed a departmental meeting scheduled
for the morning.  Terror begins to grip me like an icy hand around my heart
as I twist my head around quickly to look at the clock on the wall. The
meeting starts in ten minutes!

The lady is also looking at the clock. "Well, you're a little early."

"It's okay," I manage to half-stammer past the lump in my throat. "I'll
wait inside."

Our usual meeting room is just about a dozen steps past the
receptionist. As I walk I pass a couple of other employees, one of whom
recognises me and says 'hi'.  The other seems to be preoccupied with the
files in his hands. I don't know all that many from the fourth floor, since
we only come up here from the second floor for meetings such as this. And
I've only been in the company for five months. Five very long months, three
of which as a sextoy as well as a programmer.  By the time I reach the door
I'm almost a nervous wreck thinking about how you could possibly want to
use me this time. My life as your office fucktoy has been our own little
secret so far. Surely you're not going to show me off like this to the
whole department!

Almost shaking now, I turn the handle and slowly push the door open. The
meeting room is quite big, able to house up to 20 people at the same
time. The projector is already switched on, as is the air-conditioning, but
the room is empty. I close the door behind me and then take five steps
forward into the room. I turn then and fighting the fear in my mind, slowly
unzip my pants. I know that the bottom part of my tucked-in shirt would
mostly obscure the view of my exposed penis, but that still doesn't help
should I ever need to explain my appearance. I can claim that I forgot to
zip up after going to the toilet, but the embarrassment would still be
unthinkable.

I stand there waiting for almost five nerve-wrecking minutes before the
door opens again, making my little balls shrivel up in panic before I hear
the sound of your voice. To my chagrin, you don't enter sraightaway, but
leave the door half-open as you talk to somebody outside. The thought of
that guy or anyone else passing by taking a peek into the room is enough to
make my heart beat loudly in my ears.  However bad is the situation you put
me in, you always find ways to make it even worse. Despite everything, I
can feel my cock starting to harden as my body responds to this callous
treatment of my dignity - or what little shreds of it that I have left. A
small voice inside of me acknowledges this. Yes, see how you're actually
getting off on being treated like this? See how much of a slut you really
are?

Finally you enter the room, and without even glancing at me, you make your
way to the far end of the table and sit down. You let me stew for a couple
more minutes before motioning me over, still without even once glancing at
me. Obediently I make my way around the table to stand by your chair.

"As you know," you begin to say while browsing a file on the table, "we're
having a departmental meeting today."

I nod, but I might as well have not bothered for all the attention you give
me.

"During the meeting, you will be kneeling on all fours between my legs and
servicing me with your cuntmouth."

My knees go weak once again as the blood rushes to my face. Oh God, the
shameful things you make me do!

"You can keep your zipper undone," you assure me as if in casual
conversation. "Oh yeah, and unbutton your shirt completely, but do not take
it off."

I stand there by the table gawking at the predicament I find myself in. You
look up at me with a hint of impatience.

"You'd better hurry up and take your position," you advise me. "The others
will be arriving soon."

Almost in a panic I drop down to my knees, pull my shirt from my pants and
begin to unbutton it. Then I squeeze myself between you and the table, my
haste causing me to bump against the table and bruise my back. All the
while you are looking down at me calmly, never once deigning to move and
give me room. I feel like a total whore, as if I'm doing all of this out of
my own sheer desperation to get at your cock. However, my haste is
justified as I hear the door open just as I pull my legs in after
me. Immediately I position myself, on all fours, right in between your
widespread legs, as the last thing I want to happen is for somebody to sit
down on a chair and bump his or her feet into me. I can hear voices now,
and many footsteps entering the room.

"Well, what are you waiting for, bitch? Take my cock out and make it feel
real good," you mutter under your breath.

As the chairs around the table slowly fill with people, I reach out to your
pants and slowly pull down your zippers. I can see the bulge up one side of
your pants already growing. I reach into the fly of your boxers and pull
out your hefty cock, the cock that rules my whole life, and start to make
love to it. Without meaning to, I almost make the loud smacking and
slurping sounds you like as I lick up and down the shaft, using plenty of
saliva to wet your manhood. I must remember not to make the sucking sounds
or to gag loudly once I'm deep-throating you later.  Luckily, the meeting
table is wide enough that there's reasonable space between my body and the
others' feet, but they might still bump into me if they stretch their legs,
and of course there is always the risk of someone peeking under the table
for one reason or another!

As the meeting is about to start, somebody mentions that I am not present.

"Oh, yeah," you answer as if just remembering something. "He won't be
joining us this time as he's got something important to take care of."

I blush privately at that. If only they knew what that important thing
really is!

I'm amazed at your control as you conduct the meeting. No one would have
guessed that you're having your cock sucked all the while. I can feel the
little tremors in your legs but your voice is steady except for a few times
but you cover it well by coughing. It becomes a sort of an involuntary
challenge for me, as despite my bitterness at the treatment I try my best
to give you as much pleasure as possible, taking the occasional spates of
coughing as my own little victories. I take your cock as deep as possible
inside my mouth - although like my boycunt I've never yet managed to take
the whole 9+ inches - and use my throat to intensely massage your cockhead,
just the way you taught me to that second time you used me in the toilet.
My own hard cock hangs out of my opened zipper, hard, drooling and
unattended. I know better than to use my hand to relieve myself, but even
if I want to, it is impossible as I have to put both my hands on your
thighs to steady myself.

About halfway through, while another colleague is presenting the details of
the progress of the current project, I feel you tense up, give a low grunt
and then you are cumming in my mouth. Spurt after spurt of creamy mancum
floods my tongue, forcing me to swallow twice in quick succession and then
a third time as the last squirts dribble into my mouth. I check myself just
in time before I let out that long low moan of satisfaction that you're so
familiar with. It's something that you've been chiding me about for a long
time. It's an automatic moan that I make every time you finish unloading
all your manseed in either of my holes. It makes me feel like a whore but I
can't help it. "There, you hear that?" You'd say.  "Hear how happy you are?
That's the sound a cumdump makes when it's used properly, when it's been
royally fucked and then filled with the mancum it craves."

Despite having swallowed all of your semen, I know that my job is far from
over.  So I just keep on sucking, keep on making love to your cock with my
tongue and my hollowed out cheeks. Your cock softens a little but remains
half-hard as i nurse on it.

The meeting drags on for about another half an hour. My jaw is aching now,
and your cock has become rock hard again but it seems that you are not
interested in cumming a second time, since my ministrations no longer force
you to fake a cough.  In any case, I will only be able to stop when you
command me to; my duty is clear.

Near the end of the meeting, I feel something hard caressing my neck. I
look sideways and to my chagrin realise that someone - the guy who is
sitting beside you - is rubbing the tip of his shoe on my neck. Maybe it's
just an accident? I shift my body slightly away from it, but the shoe
follows me. Even worse, now it travels up my neck, along my jawline and
then presses against my cheek. Whoever it is, he knows! Oh my god, someone
knows that I'm down there sucking your cock during a departmental meeting!
The shoe leaves my face, only to move down and caress the skin on my chest
and then along my belly. Then the man jabs the tip of his shoe up against
my belly, sharply but not hard enough to hurt. He does this several more
times, until, unexpectedly even to my flushing self, in my twisted state of
mind I actually understand what he wants me to do. I shift my body a little
closer to you and him. The shoe can now reach further, and it does just
that, taking the opportunity to nudge not too gently at my straining cock
and taut little balls. The third time the shoe brushes against my cock, I
feel the world exploding around me as my own cum boils over and shoots out
of my small asian cock, splattering onto the carpet underneath my quivering
body. I try to stop myself but it's too late, and even as my hands tremble
on your thighs and my lips tighten automatically around your cock, I let
out a loud whine and then a whimper as my whole body stiffens in the throes
of ejaculated passion.

As I come down from the sexual high, I realise that my whole body is
burning with the red heat of shame. I look around me slowly, but there were
no feet except for yours and the ones that drove me over the edge.

"Nice timing," I hear you say. "Just as they were going out and making
enough noise to conceal it."

"Yeah," another voice says. A voice I think I know.

The meeting is apparently over. I was cumming as the others were getting
out.  Relief and shame floods me until I feel like I'm going to cry.

"He's quite good, you know," I hear you say to the other man. "You should
try him sometime."

"Maybe I will. He's certainly very obedient, and he seems to have a knack
of knowing what other men want from him." I blush even more furiously as I
realise that the guy is talking about the fact that I understood the little
jabs with his shoe.

You push your chair backward a little then, pulling me out slightly from
under the table just enough so that I can see you looking down at me.

"Kiss it goodbye for now, and then tuck it back into my pants," you order
me. "And try to look like you're really going to miss it!"

I make my pouty, disappointed-at-the-parting face and kiss your cock on the
head, right on the slit, before packing the huge snake back into your
boxers.

"Hmm.. this could be more convenient than I realised," you muse. "It means
that next time, should the situation arises, I would no longer need to go
to the toilet. Nor would any other man in the room, I guess."

You grin nastily down at me as my eyes widen with horror at your words.

"Well," you say as you rise from your chair. "You can come out from there
now.  But please, we can't have some boyslut prancing around half-naked in
the office.  You should tidy up your clothes and look like a proper
employee for a change."

With those last words, you and the other man - whom I still cannot see
-leave me there, trembling in the aftershocks of orgasm and burning from
the shame of humiliation, my cock still rock hard over the drying stains of
my own discarded boycum.