Just Another Day at the Office (4 page)

Chelsea sat back on her heels, trying to cover herself. Jayson doubted she’d noticed the stream of cum dribbling from her mouth, or she would have hastily wiped it away. She would eventually get over this shyness, but it would take more than a few hours.

Never taking his eyes off of her, the sub guy said, “Eighteen twenty-two.”

Jayson peeled off a twenty and handed it over. “For a tip, want her to suck you off, too?” He resituated his cock in his pants and zipped them again.

“Hell, yes.”

She tried to dart away, still on her knees, but Jayson got down behind her and stopped her progress. He nodded and raised an eyebrow at the delivery guy, who tossed his bag on the desk and made short work of freeing his dick. It was hardly more than half the size of his, so she should have no problems taking it.

As the other man walked forward, Jayson reached down between Chelsea’s legs and turned her vibes up to a five each.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned.

He slid a finger over the leather strap—just over the little annoying nub—to rub gently but insistently on her swollen clit as the young man eagerly fucked her mouth. After only about ten strokes of Jayson’s finger, her foot was twitching against his leg and she was crying out like a cat in heat against the delivery guy’s cock. A few seconds of that, and he spurted his load in her mouth.

“Good girl,” Jayson whispered in Chelsea’s ear while the other man straightened himself out, took his cash, and left.

How sick and twisted must she be to have enjoyed that? Chelsea drooped back against Jayson after her latest orgasm, the taste of cum still strong on her tongue, almost wishing she could do it again.

The buzzing in her pussy and ass hadn’t let up at all, and he was still lazily rubbing his finger over the damned nub pressing against her clit beneath the leather strap while his other hand squeezed her tits over and over again, building her up to another one before she’d fully recovered from the last. Was he a fucking sadist?

Before she could come, though, he stood her up and bent her over his desk again. His hands went to one of the locks on her belt-harness-thingy. Thank the freaking lord. She didn’t think she could take much more of this shit.

After a minute, he had one strap undone and had disconnected the butt vibe from the harness. He started to slowly pull it out and she groaned.

“That feel good?” he asked. Damn him, he sounded like he was laughing at her.

She didn’t want it to feel good, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t. Chelsea nodded.

He slid it out almost completely, and then shoved it back in and started a fucking motion with it. Even as he did that, he rubbed and squeezed her clit over and over again, and then her feet resumed their twitching. She braced herself for another massive orgasm, but then he pulled it all the way free from her body. The vibe from her pussy followed a moment later.

“I bet you need a bathroom break,” he murmured.

She glared at him, but nodded.

He paraded her through the office and she fought not to look into any of the open windows and doors—God only knew what she’d see in a nuthouse like this, after what had been going on in his office all day—then he held open a door for her to enter.

Chelsea quickly took care of business and washed her hands. In the mirror, she noticed a dried stream of semen trailing out of her mouth, and she quickly washed it away…and then rinsed her mouth with mouthwash that she found on the counter. When she left the bathroom, he was right there waiting for her to take her back to his office. Good grief. It was like he thought she was going to up and leave on him or something. Where the hell did he think she would go without a stitch of clothing on her other than knee-high socks, pumps, and a kinky leather belt strapped around her waist and locked in place?

He led her through the halls and back into his office, then bent her over his desk again. “Stay right there,” he said. Then he moved around to the other side of the desk and picked up the other, bigger vibrator—and a new butt plug. Holy crap, this dude was going to kill her before the day was out. How on earth was she supposed to get through ninety days of this sort of torturous bliss? At the moment, she didn’t know how she’d get through even just one.

When he came back around behind her, he switched one of the damned things on. A moment later, silicone heaven moved over her slit, jumping around like Mexican jumping beans. He worked it in and out of her sex, a degree at a time despite her hissing sounds at the pain of it, until he had her stretched and filled as far as she’d ever been. She thought then he’d move on to something else, but instead he jostled it around in there, up and down, side to side, making sure to hit every part of her womb with the cursed thing.

His finger probed at her butthole, pressing inside again like he’d done earlier to the first knuckle, then to the second, all the while following the same sort of pattern as he’d used with the vibrator. When he pulled both his finger and the pussy vibrator almost all the way out and then slammed them home again, taking up a frenetic fucking pace, Chelsea moaned against the desk. She might have drooled a bit, too. It was hard to be certain, since her body was producing insane amounts of wetness all over the place.

But then again, since she’d drooled cum earlier without noticing it, she probably was drooling. Damn him.

Then Jayson angled the vibe down and hit her g-spot, and she had another massive, intense orgasm.

Before she knew what was happening, more cold lube hit her nether hole, and then the next steel butt plug was working its way inside, vibrating like a rabid cell phone. Jayson worked it slowly, stretching her and filling her, pushing it so far she thought she’d rip in two if he didn’t stop soon.

Finally it was all the way inside, and her sphincter closed around the narrower part just before the base. He kept fucking her pussy with the vibe there for a minute until she almost came again from the continued pressure her g-spot, then he reattached the harness and locked the padlocks. He turned the vibes down to a lower setting—still enough to drive her berserk, mind you—and then patted her a bit harder than necessary over the leather pad holding the torture devices in place.

This vibrator was so long and had such girth that it was still sticking an inch or two outside her vulva, creating an odd, crazy pressure on her already too swollen and sensitive areas.

“Well, why don’t we eat?” he said way too cheerily, and went back around to the other side of his desk.

She glared at him and took a seat across from him, taking pains to ease all of her weight onto a single ass cheek, so as not to press the damned things further up inside her than they already were. She’d learned her lesson on that score, already.

Eating was about the furthest thing from her mind right then. Yeah, she probably needed her energy. Especially if he was going to keep making her come like he had been. But how the hell did he think she could concentrate on that while her pussy and ass were still in all-out, wild, monkey-sex mode?

Somehow she forced about half a sandwich down. In the meantime, he ate two.

“All done?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

Chelsea just nodded.

“Well, I suppose we should get you dressed again.”

For fuck’s sake, it was about time. She turned to get up and grab her bra, but Jayson stopped her before she could.

“No bra.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘no bra’?” With tits like she had, she couldn’t go out in public without a bra. She’d be bouncing and jiggling all over the place.

“I mean no bra. And I’ve already trashed those boy shorts you were wearing. You won’t need those anymore.”

Who the hell died and made him the Hitler of her life? Chelsea frowned at him. “Fine. Be that way. Well, care to take this thing off of me?” she asked with a bit more sarcasm than she’d intended, pointing to the leather straps around her pelvis.

Jayson raised an eyebrow as he headed to the coat closet, pulling her blouse out. He held on to it instead of handing it to her, then bent over to where he’d kicked her skirt earlier and picked it up. “No need to do that,” she said nonchalantly. “You’ll be wearing it while we shop.”

He’d lost his mind. He’d lost his ever-loving mind. There was no other explanation for it.

Yet when he held out her blouse, she put her arms in the sleeves and let him dress her. He left some of the higher buttons undone and Chelsea started to do them up, but he stilled her hands.

“I like it how it is.”

The way he left it, it would be clear to anyone and everyone that she didn’t have a damn thing on beneath it. Her still rock hard nipples were pressing against the fabric, alerting the whole fricking world to her state of arousal.

The next thing she knew, she was awkwardly stepping into her skirt, trying like mad not to shift the vibes and failing miserably at it, then he pulled it up and zipped it into place—somehow adjusting it to where it was shorter than it ought to be.

When Jayson straightened, he clapped a hand over her butt and grabbed on to a cheek, guiding her out of his office like that. She had to practically sprint to keep up with his long legs as he led her down the hall toward the elevator, which made the vibes jostle around inside her. The other offices they passed had their mini-blinds open, like Jayson’s, and she struggled to keep her eyes ahead of her…but despite her best effort, she caught a glimpse of a man in a cowboy hat tying one of the other assistants up in ropes. She wished she hadn’t seen that.

At the end of the hall, he pressed the down button, kneading her butt while they stood and waited.
Oh, my God
. Somehow, that seemed to ease the plug deeper inside her. Even more shocking, she
liked
the feeling of having it deeper, even though it was slightly painful, especially the way it pressed against the way-too-freaking-big vibe in her sex through the thin membrane separating them.

The bell chimed and the doors opened, and Jayson pushed her inside the already crowded elevator by her ass. A dozen or so men in dark suits appraised her, spending undue time on her half-open shirt and taut nipples pressing against it, not to mention on the fact that her companion-slash-boss-slash-whatever-the-hell-he-was had yet to remove his hand from her butt.

When they stopped again a few floors down to let some more men on, Jayson put his free hand on her right breast and pulled her back against him to make room.

Chelsea’s face felt hotter than the sun. She pinched her eyes closed and tried to pretend she was anywhere else. Toledo. Pakistan. Mars.

That didn’t do much good, since the man next to her, one who smelled heavily of cigarettes and cheap cologne, leaned over closer to her. “You’re Jayson Grant, aren’t you? Defensive lineman? Care if I touch her?” he asked, as though she were a piece of property that Jayson owned.

She sucked in a breath, ready to tell him to go fuck himself, when Jayson grunted.

What the hell did that mean?

Then the cigarette-cologne man’s hand roughly darted inside her blouse and grabbed on to her left breast. He pinched her tit hard and twisted. Jayson hadn’t let go of her right breast, and was now squeezing her nipple in a similar manner.

Chelsea tried to cry out, but nothing came from her mouth but air.

The harder they squeezed, the rougher they handled her, the more it went straight to the vibes between her legs. Her right foot started twitching. Then the left one did, too.

Jayson leaned down and whispered in her ear, “If you’re going to come, wait until we’re in my car.”

How the heck was she supposed to stop it when they were driving her crazy with need?

Finally, the elevator stopped again, the bell dinged, and the doors opened. One by one, the men in suits filed out, most of them giving her longing looks over their shoulders as they adjusted the erections in their pants on their way. When there was no one left but Chelsea, Jayson, and the man draining all the blood from her tit with his iron grip, Jayson turned to the other man. “That’s enough.”

Both hands on her breasts dropped immediately and she cried out from the loss. The pain in her nipples was worse now than when they were pinching the ever-loving life out of them. She tried to lift her hands to them to add some pressure and ease the ache, but Jayson stopped her.

“You don’t touch yourself unless I tell you to,” he murmured in her ear.

“Thanks, man,” the cigarette-cologne man said.

When he was gone, the pressure against her butt started up again as Jayson guided her out of the elevator and through the lobby to the parking garage. He opened the passenger door to a fire-engine red Jaguar XKR. “Lift your skirt up to your waist before you sit down,” he commanded.

He was one sick bastard, but up to that point, she’d had the most intensely satisfying erotic day of her life, so Chelsea did what he told her to do. Leaning over her, he buckled her in, then closed the door and made his way around to the driver’s side. He started the ignition and it roared to life. Then he shifted into gear and drove out of the garage. The powerful engine added even more vibrations to her already vibrating butt and pussy, until she was one big, vibrating mess of need.