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Message-ID: <28602asstr$980680202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Norm DePloom" <normdeploom@hotmail.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 27 Jan 2001 19:27:17 PST
Subject: {ASSM} Corporate Slut part 01(M+F+/f, rape, dominance)
Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2001 06:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.
If you don't like stories bout forced sex, don't read it.
If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, don't read it.
If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this story, don't read it.

Copyright (c) 2001 Norm DePloom.  ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written
permission of the author.  This story may be freely distributed with this
notice attached.  The author may be contacted at normdeploom@hotmail.com
All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any resemblance
to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

Corporate Slut
By
Norm DePloom

The Weekend
My new job was every thing I had expected it to be.  Boring, useless,
repetitive paperwork with a pay check that barely covered the rent on my
crappy little two room apartment.  As I took off my clothing and stepped
into the hot shower I, as was my habit, reviewed the events of the last
week.  My Friday-after-work shower is a ritual that goes back to my very
first job.  I normally shower in the mornings before I go to work, I had
showered that morning, but on Friday evening, when I get home from work I
always take a shower to symbolically 'wash the week off' and transition into
my weekend mode.

As I rubbed the well-lathered washcloth over my body I thought about how
badly I needed a man inside me.  Since I had moved to the 'big city' I
seemed to be perpetually 'between' boyfriends.  Since I detested the whole
'single bar' thing I reluctantly accepted the fact that I would be spending
the evening with Vibrating Victor, my most loyal lover.  By the time I
stepped from the shower and grabbing a towel, headed for my bedroom I was
eagerly looking forward to my evenings first round with Victor even before I
fixed myself dinner.  Hey I told you I needed a man inside me, didn't I?

I didn't see them, and I didn't hear them.  All I knew was that something
was put over my head and that, despite my struggles, a gag of some kind was
forced into my mouth before strong hands lifted me into the air and, after
carrying me into my bedroom, dumped me on my bed where they proceeded to tie
my wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed.  I continued to pull and
fight against the ropes until I wore myself out and lay still listening.  I
was sure there were people in the room enjoying watching my naked body
writhe and pull against the restraints, but I could not hear anything but
the noise of the city.

I do not know how long I lay, naked, tied to the bed.  At times I was sure
that I heard the rustle of people moving around the room, or soft footsteps
on the worn out carpet around the bed. Then I became aware of soft music
coming from the other room of my apartment.  The music and the chatter of
people at a party slowly grew louder until it drowned out the city noises.
How many people, I wondered, were in my apartment taking turns enjoying the
view of my naked body.  Much to my surprise my nipples crinkled and I could
feel myself getting wet when I pictured myself naked and tied spread eagle
on the bed with a room full of horny men stroking themselves while they
watched me struggling to get loose from the bonds.

The first few times I was touched I almost thought I was imagining it, but
then it became apparent that a silk scarf, or something light and soft, was
being moved over my body.  I hate to admit it, but my desperate need to have
a man inside me had not been diminished by what were obviously preparations
to gang rape me.  If anything I was more ready and more needy now than I had
been when I stepped from the shower.

My already hard nipples hardened to the point of being painful when the
scarf was pulled back and forth across them.  I wanted to scream at them
through my gag.  I wanted to yell at them to stop teasing me and get on with
the gang rape I needed so badly.  As soon as those thoughts passed through
my mind, as soon as I realized how much I really wanted to spend the night
being gang raped by a room full of strangers, a wave of humiliation washed
over me.

The scarf was replaced with fingers moving over my skin and, at least for
the time being, avoiding the one place where I needed to be touched the
most.  I was wet.  I was open and ready to be taken, and I'm sure each and
every person enjoying the show in my bedroom that night could see how wet,
open and ready I was.  I lost control of my hips and they started jerking up
and down making sex motions in the air.

The cords holding my ankles were loosened and hands pulled my knees up and
apart opening my private area for the whole room to view.  I felt someone
climb on the bed and almost wept in gratitude for the soon coming relief.
Kneeling on the bed between my legs the person who climbed onto the bed
placed a hand on each of my legs just above my knees.  Ever so slowly these
warm hands moved up my inner thighs getting closer and closer to what was
rapidly becoming the very center of my being.  Just as the hands reached the
crease separating my thighs from my crotch they veered upward circling
around the center of my universe to run through my pubic hair.  After
reversing direction the hands again just barely missed the one place I
wanted them to be and moved slowly back up my inner thighs towards my knees.

Hands cupped my breasts, and mouths began to work on my nipples as the hands
started another journey down my thighs.  'Please-' I wanted to yell through
my gag. '-touch me, take me.'  The hands came right up to the very edge of
my opening before once again veering off and moving back up my thighs.  I
imagined a well-muscled Adonis with a huge erect penis crouched between my
legs teasing me before he takes me with one powerful lunge.

Mouths sucked my nipples, hands massaged my breasts, fingers caressed almost
every square inch of my body, every inch that is except the place where I
needed to be touched the most.  My whole body trembled in anticipation as
the hands moved slowly back down my thighs a third time.  I no longer cared
who might be watching or how good the 'show' was, I tilted my hips up and
tried to pull my legs further apart to open myself even more hoping to
entice the torturing hands into touching me where it really counted.

"No." I screamed and sobbed through my gag when the hands were pulled away
just short of where I wanted them.  Then while all the other sucking and
touching continued almost unnoticed a single finger touched me on the edge
of my left outer lip.  Another fingertip touched me on the upper edge of my
right outer lip.  'Yes-' I screamed in my mind. '-open me.  Enter me.  Take
me.'  The fingers moved with expert, exquisite slowness up my outer lips.  I
held my hips up my body trembling offering myself waiting for that first
magic touch on my clitoris.  The fingertips circled without touching and,
leaving me feeling like a stark raving insane lunatic, moved back down the
crests of my outer lips until they met where the lips meet at the bottom.
The hands turned so the fingers faced outward then began the slow journey
back up the inside surface of my slick outer lips once again headed toward
my eager begging-to-be-touched clitoris.

My whole body was shaking with sobs as I begged through my gag for relief
from this exquisite pleasure-torture.  I can't tell you how long this
continued.  I only know that it wasn't until I felt like I'd go totally and
permanently insane did I finally feel him inside me.   I started cuming as
soon as he entered me and the waves of orgasmic pleasure were mixed with
waves of shame and humiliation.

Although rest of the weekend is a blur I do remember isolated incidences. I
do know that I was taken and used in just about every way possible by men
and women alone and in groups.  Since I remained blindfolded the whole time
I'm still not certain about everyone who participated in my humiliation and
ultimately the beginning of my rebirth as a corporate slut.

Back To Work
When I woke up Monday morning I first thought was that I had just
experienced an incredibly realistic sex dream.  That was quickly followed by
a wave of humiliation and total self disgust when I remembered how
enthusiastically I had ended up participating in my own debauchment.

I found a pile of neatly laid out clothes with a typed note instructing me
to 'wear these clothes, and nothing else'.  I put the note back on top of
the pile and looked around.  I found not a clue as to who had been partying
in my apartment and in my body all weekend.  I did discover that I really
had no choice about wearing the clothes they had laid out for me.  All my
other clothing had been taken. Not even a sock or a pair of panties was left
for me.

I took a closer look at the clothing they had left for me.  It was what
could only be described as an archetypal quintessential 'slut uniform'.  I
found a black garter, black silk stockings (very nice, high quality), spiked
high heels, a push up bra designed not to support the breasts as much as to
display them, a black skirt that looked more like a wide belt and a silk
blouse that was so shear it looked like nothing more than a wisp of gray
smoke when I held it up to look at it.  The clothes may have been 'trashy'
and 'whore-ish' but they definitely were not 'cheap' every item was of the
highest  quality. The outfit laid out for me cost more, I was sure, then I
would make in the next month.  The person, or persons, doing this obviously
has a 'thing' about silk.

I was learning a lot about myself in those days.  Just the thought of
wearing my new 'slut uniform' in public scared me senseless, but it was also
making my nipples hard and I was getting incredibly wet.  I'm sure I would
have 'chickened out' if I'd had so much as a towel to wrap myself in, but
they had left me no choice.  I would have to wear the 'slut clothes' even to
go out and buy 'decent' clothes, not that they had left me any money to buy
new clothes with.  The only thing in my apartment, other than my furniture,
was my new slut clothes and enough change for bus fair to work.

I put on the garter belt first, then the stockings.  I avoided looking at
myself in the mirror while I dressed.  After the stockings I put on the bra
and finally the blouse.  Whoever bought these clothes new my exact size.  I
stood for a minute preparing myself before turning towards the mirror.  What
can I say?  I looked like a whore.  You know what they say, 'Look like a
whore, feel like a whore.'  Well, I'm sure somebody said it.  If not, then I
guess I'm the first.

Whoever the group of people were who spent the weekend playing with my body
they had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure I would show up at work
looking like a tramp.  I fully expected to be canned as soon as I walked in
the door at work, but at least if they did fire me then they'd have to pay
me for a week's work and I'd be able to buy something decent to wear.

As soon as I stepped out the front door into the chilly air my nipples
crinkled and, with each wobbly unsteady step on heels far higher than any
I'd ever tried to walk on before, rubbed against the front edge of the push
up bra cup.  I found it to be both irritating and stimulating.  The cold air
swirling around my naked private areas sent chills up my spine.

I could see the crowd at the bus stop from a block away, and tried to time
my arrival with that of the bus.  I could see the men, and some of the
woman, nudging each other to let them know that there was something worth
looking at approaching.  I hung back until everyone else had boarded then I
suddenly realized that there was no way for me to step up into the bus
without flashing the driver, and who ever was seated behind him, twice.
Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard I grabbed the cold steel rail and
lifted my right leg while the driver, and the two men behind him, stared
unashamedly at my exposed crotch.  My face burned with visible humiliation
as I lifted my other leg, giving the three leering men another good look at
me.  Red faced and swallowing hard I climbed the last step into the bus and
quickly moved to the only empty seat left.

"You'd better not leave a wet spot on my bus seat" The driver leered at me.
As I lowered my bare bottom onto the cold plastic, I could feel my face
burning red and I tried not to look at anyone around me.  Every time I
glanced up I could see the men around me staring at my hard nipples, clearly
visible through the thin silk blouse I'd been forced to wear.  I crossed my
arms and hunkered down in the seat, trying to make myself invisible.

The two-block walk from the downtown bus stop to the office building where I
worked seemed to take forever.  I continually pulled at my skirt as it road
up my thighs with each step, threatening to expose my panty-less crotch for
all to see.

"Good morning slut."  Was the first greeting I heard when I walked through
the door.  I could feel my face burning as I walked to my desk.  I tried to
ignore the rough fabric on the seat of my secretarial chair rubbing on my
tender unprotected pussy as I shuffled through the weekend mail sorting it
into piles by department.  Not wanting to talk to anyone, I kept my head
down, not looking up when a shadow fell across my desk.

"Mr. Smythe wants to see you, slut."  My supervisor said then, without
saying another word she turned and walked back to her own desk.  'There's
something different about her.'  I thought as I walked toward the elevator.
'And why would Mr. Smythe be sending for me and not Mr. Phillips?'  Mr.
Phillips was the personnel manager and the one I would have expected to give
me the ax for coming to work dressed like a tramp.  That's when it hit me
and I reached out to support myself against the elevator wall as the
implications of my realization made my head reel.  I'd been so self
absorbed, so obsessed with the clothes I'd been forced to wear that I had
totally missed that every other woman in the office was dressed just like I
was.

I leaned sideways, my head moving with the elevator doors as they closed,
peering out into the office to confirm my realization.  All those ladies who
had come to work all last week attired in conservative business clothes were
dressed today just as whorishly as I was. I remained deep in thought,
contemplating the significance of what I'd just seen, as the elevator moved
quickly and quietly up three floors, where the doors opened and, after
waiting patiently for the allotted time, started to close again.  Realizing
what was happening I thrust my arm into the path of the closing door then,
after the doors re-opened, stepped into the plushly carpeted hallway, which
led to Mr. Smythe's office.

I was in a state of total confusion as I walked into Mr. Smythe's outer
office.  His secretary was no where to be seen, so I quietly tiptoed over
and peeked through the open door into Mr. Smythe's inner office.  Mr. Smythe
waved me into his office without taking his eyes from the computer screen on
his desk.

"No, no,-" He said when I stopped in front of his desk.  "-over here dear."
He finished indicating that I should stand beside his chair.  In this day of
political correctness and sexual harassment lawsuits I was surprised to be
called 'dear' by a man at work.  I walked around his desk and stood beside
his chair.  He seemed to ignore me at first, then without warning, or asking
permission I felt his hand move up my right inner thigh from my knee right
up to my exposed crotch.  His hand moving over my silk covered leg was in
many ways more sensual and more blatantly sexual than his hand on bare skin
would have been.  I recognized the touch immediately, this was the hand that
had tormented me so unmercifully Friday night before the fuck-fest began.

My body responded while my mind was still trying sort things out.  Before I
realized what I was doing my pelvis tilted forward and I leaned eagerly into
his invading hand.  Mr. Smythe easily slipped two fingers into me, still
without taking his eyes from his computer screen.

"Oh my god."  I whispered when curiosity finally forced me to look at Mr.
Smythe's computer, where I saw a video of myself tied to my bed and being
ravished by four or five men simultaneously.

"OH MY GOD" I repeated considerably louder when Mr. Smythe's fingers pushed
against my 'G' spot just when his thumb started rubbing against my clitoris.
My body jerked repeatedly against his hand in small sharp fucking motions.
Mr. Smythe continued stimulating me with his fingers until I was right on
the verge of an orgasm then he removed his fingers just as his secretary
walked into the office.  She smiled at me sweetly while I stared at her with
open-mouthed amazement.  She was wearing a corset that must have been laced
up and tied so tight that I have no doubt that she had trouble breathing.
It left her breasts even more exposed than my bra left mine.  She wore black
nylons held up with red elastic garters around her thighs and spiked heels
higher than the ones that had been left for me.  Her smooth clean-shaved
crotch was on display for all to see.  She handed Mr. Smythe an intra-office
envelope then after giving me an up and down glance, licked her lips
invitingly and left the room.  Just as she reached the door she gave me
another look over her shoulder.  As she turned and walked from the room I
saw, what I was later to learn was a butt plug, projecting from her
posterior.

"Take this envelope-" Mr. Smythe instructed me. "-and return to work."  As
he continued to talk Mr. Smythe ran his hands over my silk covered thighs
and my bare butt.  "From time to time during the day you will be summoned to
the offices of the Corporate officers listed on the envelope-"  I spread my
legs trying to entice him to touch me where I really needed to be touched.
"-at the end of the day you will report back to me.  If all the officers
give you a good report you will be retained by the company as a 'Slut In
Training' with a considerable pay raise.  Now get." He finished giving the
inside of my thigh a pat.   As I turned to leave the office Mr. Smythe's
attention returned to the video of my gang rape playing on his computer.

As I walked through the door into the outer office I found myself suddenly
being embraced by Mr. Smythe's secretary.  While she massaged my butt with
both hands she laid a line of kisses along my neck, speaking to me in a soft
whisper between kisses.  I had never done anything with a woman before, but
I felt thrill-chills run up and down my spine with each of her kisses.

"Just relax-" She advised me.  "-and enjoy what's about to happen to you."
She moved her hands up placing one on each of my cheeks.  "If you have any
problems just come see me."  She said as she brought our mouths together.  I
didn't really believe that it was going to happening until our lips touched
and her tongue pushed between mine.  As she explored the inside of my mouth
her hands moved down across my breasts and stomach then, slipping under my
short skirt, she moved her thumb gently back and forth over my clitoris.  "I
want to be your minter." She said breathlessly then guided me out of the
office and back into the hallway leading to the elevator.

Is that what they call it now? I asked myself as the elevator quickly
dropped me back to the first floor.  I walked in somewhat of a daze from the
elevator back to my desk, then stood open-mouthed staring at my chair.  It
looked just like the chair I had used all last week, an expensive
high-quality secretarial chair, except now it had a large plastic cock
sticking up right where I was expected to sit down.

"It's Mr. Smythe's."  Debra, the woman at the next desk said.

"Huh?" was the best I could do in reply.

"It is modeled on Mr. Smythe's cock-" she explained half standing so I could
see there was one protruding from her chair's seat also.  "-he says he likes
to have the feeling that he's fucking all of us at the same time."  I'd
never seen a cock, plastic or flesh, being pushed into or being pulled out
of a woman before, the sight was intriguing.  When she raised up her inner
lips drug along the surface of the plastic cock and were pulled into view,
when she lowered herself back down they were pulled back inside.  I looked
back over at my chair and my head spun once again with the realization that
every woman in the building was working with a replica of her boss' cock
inside her.

I gave the chair a closer look reaching out and touching the plastic cock.
It felt both soft, and firm and slightly warm, almost like the real thing.
There was an additional protrusion in front of the cock and another one
behind it, at the time I had no idea what they were for.  I knew that I
would have no problem getting it inside me, in fact the way I was feeling I
really needed it inside me.  I just did not want to lower myself onto it
with every one in the office watching.

"Are you going to sit down and start working?"  I heard my supervisor's
voice from right behind me.  "Or do I have to show you how to use basic
office equipment."  It was the first time I'd ever heard a large plastic
cock described as 'basic office equipment'.  'I wonder-' I thought as I
spread my legs and lowered myself onto my 'basic office equipment' chair.
'-how many miles she's logged on one of these.'  Reaching between my legs
with both hands I grasped the shaft of the plastic cock with my left hand
and spread myself open with the fingers of my right hand.  Then, trying to
ignore all the eyes watching me from around the room, I worked myself
further and further onto the up thrust plastic cock.

I could feel my face turning redder and redder as I lowered myself on to my
new chair while a whole room full of people watched.  When I was fully
seated I realized what the additional protrusions were intended for.  The
one in front rested against my clitoris while the one in back massaged my
ass every time I moved.

"Everybody back to work."  The supervisor announced clapping her hands like
she was talking to a group of children.  I watched as she moved back to her
own desk and with a most natural and practice motion lowered herself onto
her own piece of  'basic office equipment'.   I started my boring tasks,
shuffling papers into different piles, and discovered that every time I
moved I could feel it not only deep inside but also directly on my clitoris
and on what, I was rapidly discovering, was an equally sensitive ass hole.
Believe me it gave a whole new level of excitement to sorting mail.

Every time I looked around the room people would suddenly look away,
pretending that they were not watching me.   Usually they would look up at
the clock first then pretend to be busy with work on their desks.  I finally
realized that, this being an office, they naturally had a pool going on how
long it would take me to cum the first time.  Knowing that everyone was
going to see me when I came, I tried to sit as still as possible while I
worked, but despite the best of intentions I would, every few minutes, find
myself rocking back and forth on my 'basic office equipment' stimulating
myself while everyone watched.  Each time I would turn bright red and,
ignoring my co-workers giggles, make another attempt to sit absolutely
still.  I quickly discovered that the effort to not cum only made me more
excited.

I have no idea how long I lasted but there came a time when I abandoned all
pretense and, holding onto the edge of my desk for dear life, rocked
unashamedly back and forth working my hot wet pussy on the large hard
plastic cock while moaning 'Oh god...Oh god...Oh god...' over and over
again.  The people in the office actually left their desks and gathered
around mine for a better view of the new slut having her first corporate
cum.  My whole body stiffened and, it seemed to me, I spent an eternity
dancing impaled on the plastic cock that protruded from my chair until I,
babbling incoherently, collapsed onto my desktop and laid there, for how
long I couldn't say, with drool oozing from the corner of my mouth and
puddling on the papers below.  I was barely aware of an official time being
declared and a wad of money being given to one of the bystanders before they
all dispersed to their own desks to climb back onto their own 'basic office
equipment' and return to their work.

"Mr. Harper wants to see you."  My supervisor announced as soon as the
audience had left.  Standing on trembling legs I wiped the drool from my
face and, looking down at the cum covered plastic cock, wondered if office
etiquette called for me to wipe it clean before I left the room.  I actually
got a small applause from my fellow workers as I walked to the elevator.

My inner thighs were wet and sticky and my legs were still trembling, as I
approached Mr. Harper's office. I wasn't sure how much of the leg trembling
was left over from the orgasmic display I'd just given my fellow employees
and how much was excitement over what might be demanded of me next.  Just as
I reached for the door to Mr. Harper's office I was stopped dead in my
tracks by a devastating thought.  Why was I still there?  Why had I made no
objection when Mr. Smythe put his fingers inside me?  When his secretary
kissed me and fingered my clitoris?  Why had I fucked myself on the plastic
cock with everyone watching?

I released the doorknob and, leaning face first against the wall, began to
cry.  I did not like the only answer I had to those questions.  In fact I
found myself emotionally crushed by the answer.  Today was not like over the
weekend, then I'd had no choice.  Even if I'd ended up enjoying everything
they did to me, I was still being forced.  Today I was a volunteer.

As I cried and the worst of the emotions drained from my body I felt a
presence behind me. Then I felt her body against mine seeming to cover me
completely and hold me against the wall.  I was totally surprised by how
relaxed I became, as her warmth seemed to flow into me.

"What am I?"  I asked with a desperate whisper.  Before answering she took
my wrists and pulled my arms over my head and held them there almost as if
I'd been tied to a hook.

"You-" She answered holding my wrists with her left hand and allowing her
right hand to move slowly down my extended arms. "-are a slut."  She
finished simply and directly, but without the condemnation usually
associated with the word and certainly without the derogatory tone I used
with it in my own mind.  My body totally relaxed and I would have collapsed
on the floor if she had not been holding me up.

"But-"  She asked as her hand continued to explore my body.  "-what is a
'slut' but a woman who has decided to enjoy sex to the fullest degree
possible?"  Her right hand eventually found my clitoris once again.  "We can
surrender to the degrading connotation forced on that word by our male
dominated society or we can glory in the freedom available by claiming that
word for our own and wearing it as a badge of honor to designate a woman how
embraces her sexuality and lives her life for all its worth grabbing every
moment of pleasure afforded her.  Your body has already made its decision.
Now we're just waiting for your mind to catch up."  She turned me around
and, still holding my arms up in symbolic bondage, kissed me deeply and
thoroughly, a kiss that left me feeling like I belonged to her.  That being
another feeling that I wasn't really sure I was ready for.

"Now get your tight little ass into Mr. Harper's office and see what
surprises he has for you."  She ordered giving me a gentle shove down the
hall.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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