You’re surrounded by men in suits, their eyes exploring every inch of your body.
For them, you’re nothing but a piece of meat put on display. It frustrates you. Angers you. Makes you wish you could rip their eyes out for making you feel this way.
But the laments of a woman objectified are seldom heard. So you choose to endure in silence, patiently waiting for the day you will call the shots in the office.
And that day was approaching fast. Once the meeting was over, you would get your coveted promotion.
You took your seat in the meeting room, pretending that you didn’t notice half the place checking your ass out. There were men of all sizes and ages sharing your table, but not a single other woman. You were used to this. Your company had always had a reputation as a ‘boy’s club’. Your promotion to the upper management had sent shockwaves through the office, especially given your young age.
The women in the office considered you an inspiration. ‘Another glass-ceiling shattered!’ The men, meanwhile, spread rumors about you sucking cock to get your position.
As a consequence, it took you months of hard work to get your male subordinates to take you seriously. By now, most had come to respect your judgement. Your fellows in the upper management, however, were a different story.
Once everyone was seated, your boss, a burly man in his 60s named Chadwick, got up: “Gentlemen,” he shot out, “we’re here to discuss the future of this company. Before we get started, we need someone to take notes.”
Everyone’s gaze turned to you.
“Jack, you’re a good writer,” you said jovially as you handed him your pen. You weren’t going to let them reduce you to a secretary.
“Thanks,” he said, unamused. Suddenly, a smile: “Hey, we forgot the coffee. Mind getting it from the kitchen?”
You’d served them countless times before. Today would be different.
“Thanks, but I don’t like coffee.” You said while pretending to look at your notes.
Silence. Smothering silence.
“Do as you’re told,” your boss finally said from across the table.
“Yes sir,” you sighed in defeat.
Once you were back, the boss made you serve coffee to all the men. You did as ordered before taking your seat once more.
‘Endure. Just a little bit more,’ you whispered to yourself.
The meeting was boring. Dozens of presentations, a few jokes, tons of arguments and bickering. The few times you got to speak, the men interrupted you.
Then, the moment you’d been waiting for: Your potential promotion to regional manager. It was pretty much set in stone, but you needed the final seal of approval from the boss himself.
“Thanks for your work today, boys. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a few final things to discuss before we call it a day,” he said as he signaled for you and his inner circle to follow him out of the room.
Your boss’ office was massive, with gigantic windows on all sides. A command from his raspy voice activated the binders, ushering the room in darkness. Then came another command and the lights went on.
There were just enough seats for him and his inner circle. You had to stand, like a servant waiting to be berated. However, this would be no such thing. This would be your time to shine.
Throughout the years in this company, you’d been humiliated, degraded, called names behind your back, and much much more. But now, it was finally time to cash in. As regional manager, you would finally have the power to change the broken culture plaguing your office.
“I’m going to make this short. Why should you be our new regional manager?” Your boss asked.
Giddy with excitement, you told him about your time in the company and all the blood and sweat and tears you’d put into your work ever since you started as an 18 year old intern some years ago. However, as you were speaking, you could see that they were losing their interest.
Your boss interrupted you:
“Yes, I already know these things. But tell me, how far are you willing to go to get this job?”
“It’s been my goal ever since I started, sir. I would do anything,” You answered.
“Then get on your knees,” he commanded.
“Uhm’ excuse me?”
“Get. On. Your. Knees. Hands behind your back.” He repeated his command.
“Excuse me?!” You were shouting now.
The men in the room started laughing.
“Listen, if you want this job, you’re going to have to bring much more to the table than your ‘qualifications’. You’re a woman. If you’re going to be my regional manager, I expect you to know your place.”
You didn’t say anything. Words had escaped you. You were used to misogyny, but never this direct and obvious.
You finally got some words out: “I always knew you were a pig…”
“The way I see it, you’ve got two options: Get out of this room and speak to my friend in HR and then be swiftly fired, or do as I say and have your long coveted promotion. I don’t care either way. So what is it?”
There it was again, the one thing you could not escape: Men’s desire. It controlled every aspect of your life: the way you dressed, the way you spoke, the roads you travelled during the night. It was like a tentacle that violated every part of your body and wrapped itself around your limbs, making you dance like a marionette to the whims of the patriarchy.
The men took your silence as an invitation and rose up.
You hadn’t said yes. You couldn’t. It was too shameful to give yourself up like that. You’d bested the sexism of your co-workers, and despite all odds made it to management as a woman. But despite your best attempts to the contrary, you were a sex object.
The men surrounded you, pressing their bodies against yours. Hands started caressing your breasts and ass, groins were pressed against your cunt. A finger slid in your mouth. Then, a slap.
“Down on your knees… bitch.”
(To be continued)
[Hit me up if you’re interested in continuing this story]
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qczqt5/m4f_the_corporate_gangbang