I squirmed in my chair for the rest of the work day, hoping my wetness wouldn’t get on the chair. I felt very…vulnerable, going without my panties, but he had taken mine and of course I didn’t have any extra. That only made me hotter, and it felt like everyone knew what I was feeling, and what I was, or wasn’t wearing. No more skirts, I told myself. But would pants be worse? Constantly rubbing against my slit as I walked.
When the clock hit five I was ready to go. I quickly gathered my things and was rushing towards the door. I was almost there when I heard that voice. “Melissa? I need to talk to you for a moment. Come to my office.” I groaned internally. I turned to follow him, only to see he was gone. I considered, for a moment, just leaving. But I sighed and headed to his office reluctantly. When I got there, the door was already closed. I knocked gently on the door, and heard an, “enter.” I nervously opened the door and closed it gently behind me, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. He was sitting at his desk, going through paperwork.
“Sit, and wait a moment.” He commanded. I blushed and sat in the only chair available—the big leather one. It was a comfortable chair, but I couldn’t help but be reminded of what had transpired earlier that day. I blushed and squirmed a bit, but stopped after a hard glace my way. I wasn’t allowed to squirm ever? Instead, I channeled my nervous energy into fidgeting with my fingers—picking at the chipped nails. I considered pulling out my phone to play with, but he told me to wait, and I had a feeling that didn’t count.
Finally, he sighed and seemed to finish what he was doing. He got up, and walked over to me. I started to stand, but he easily pushed me back into the chair, and leaned over me. I gulped, unable to look away from his eyes, and unable to do more than squirm. He wasn’t touching me, but he was very, very close. I licked at my lips. The orgasm from earlier hadn’t been enough. I always had been a little hyper sexual. Always needing more. I bit my lip. He smirked a little.
“I’m going to kiss you. You are not going to kiss me back, or touch me in any way.” He stated, and I whimpered softly before his lips pressed against mine. He kissed me slowly. I felt his lips slide against mine and I quivered with the need to respond. My hands balled up beside me and I whimpered again. I ached to touch and be touched. I ached to touch back.
My back arched, and a whispered, “please..” escaped my lips. He didn’t respond, other than to deepen the kiss. I heard a soft growl from his throat as his tongue swept into my mouth, and I moaned, shaking now in the need to respond. My head became foggy with my need, and it took everything I had not to respond.
He pulled back, eventually, and I felt a hand stroke my hair. “Good girl. Very good girl. You’re learning quickly.” I whimpered softly. “This time you may kiss back, but only if you want to be fucked.” I gulped and whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He knelt on the chair, his knees on either side of mine, pressing my legs together. He grabbed my hair and tipped my head back, and his lips pressed hungrily against mine again.
I moaned and writhed, my hands scratching at the leather beneath me. I gasped into his mouth, trying to resist the urge to kiss back. He was kissing me ravenously, and it was hard not to respond. Impossible, even. After he growled again, I moaned and finally responded, my lips moving against his and my tongue flicking against his own.
My hands reached up to wrap around his neck, but he jerked my head back with my hair and growled loudly, reminding me that I was not to touch him. I whimpered pleadingly, but put my hands back down. If I couldn’t touch him, I had no control. I shook again, and tried to grind my hips up against him, but I could get very little movement, trapped as I was.
He released me after several minutes of this, leaving me gasping for air. “Bend over my desk. Now.” He ordered firmly, and I scampered to obey. He hadn’t told me to strip this time though, and I was confused…until he lifted my skirt up. I still wasn’t wearing any panties. “Open your mouth. “ He ordered, and confused, I did. He shoved something into my mouth. Some..cloth, that tasted like..oh no. I shook my head, trying to get what must only be my panties out of my mouth, and whined, but he only wrapped another piece of cloth around my head and in between my teeth, keeping them in. Then, cloth covered my eyes, and I moaned into the makeshift gag.
I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and my legs were kicked forcefully apart. I whimpered, almost afraid, but the wetness on my pussy told me I was aroused. I felt the tip of his sheathed cock against my pussy..it went up and down, up and down. Sliding just a little bit into my hole before pulling out and gliding over my clit. Back and forth. I whined as loudly as I can.
The thing about being gagged is you don’t even have enough power to beg. You can’t ask for anything. You can’t say anything. You’re reduced to being…a toy, nothing more. No matter what you may want or need, it cannot be communicated, and it could go unfulfilled for ages until you finally get it…if you get it at all.
I burned, rocking back against him, trying to beg with my body what I couldn’t ask for with my mouth. Finally, he pushed it in farther than the first inch. Slowly, slowly he pushed it in, until it was about halfway in, before pulling it out. He repeated this, going in and out slowly, each time getting a little deeper. I moaned in need, my nails scraping against the wood. I didn’t just need an orgasm at this point—I needed to be fucked. Hard.
He started to go faster, and I rocked back against him eagerly. Or I tried to. I felt a sharp swat on my behind and I cried out into the gag, the sting burning through to my core, I stopped rocking against him with effort. My eyes began to water with my unsatisfied need, and I had to reach out in front of me and grab the other edge of the desk to keep myself still.
I felt a hand in my hair, pulling my head up. “That’s right. You know your place, don’t you, girl? You know you’re just here to get fucked.” I whimpered and tried to shake my head, but he held it tight I couldn’t argue with my mouth gagged either. “You don’t need to say a word. I can read it in your body as you struggle not to press against me. You want to be fucked hard, girl? Then I’ll fuck you until you can’t stand.”
He released my hair and I cried out as he shoved into me hard, over and over again. I was starting to rise towards orgasm quickly, and I couldn’t hold it back after he ordered, “Cum, slut!”I moaned and writhed as he pounded into me, unable to keep a second one from rising. Each time, on the brink of orgasm, he’d order me to cum again.
I lost count of how many orgasms I’d had. Too many, before he finally came himself. I moaned out another orgasm, my sensitive insides clamping down on his cock as he came. When he pulled out, I relaxed, finally. My fingers went to the makeshift gag, and I tried to pull it off before my hands were lightly swatted away. I whimpered softly, but put my hands down.
I felt myself get picked up and sat down on a lap. He stroked my hair and until I settled down, then he removed the gag as well as the blindfold. I blinked at the bright light of the room, before leaning back against him. I didn’t bother to struggle anymore. I was caught.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/7gqr2f/training_in_the_office_ch_3mfnonconsent
Definitely following along for this one. So. Fucking. Hot.