Robert Vickers: Easy office girl

And she loved it.

"I think that will do. Now to make sure you don't leave here unsatisfied," he said, going to a cabinet.

He pulled out the longest vibrator Cheryl had ever seen. She wondered if he intended using that on her – all the way up into her delicate, sensitive snatch.

He did.

She screamed when he rammed it in. He didn't try for finesse. He just crammed it straight up her twat. Once there, he flicked on the switch in the base of the plastic dildo. The gentle buzzing quieted her, made her feel sexy again.

She sighed and relaxed even more.

When the riding crop smacked across her tits one more time, she came.

With the buzzing contrivance in her, she seemed to be filled with a million little butterflies all gently stroking their soft wings against her pussy walls. It was pleasant, it was stimulating. She loved it.

Then he landed another blow with his riding crop. The wicked little whip left only a tiny red splotch. But the major effect was the pain it sent arcing into her body. He was a master with accomplishing the most with only a little effort.

He kept up the steady, light beating until she was convulsed with one orgasm after another.

"You like this, huh?" he asked in his flat voice.

"Yes, damn you, yesss!"

"Don't swear."

He let her have the whip across her well spanked butt. The pain sailing into her body sent every nerve on edge. She was completely aroused now. Her being was one giant, raw, pulsing nerve ending. The lightest touch was all it took to set off another orgasm in her ravaged body.

The vibrator churned mindlessly inside her cunt. She worked the plastic rod even further up into her juicy quim. It felt so snug, so secure, so nice there. It made her know she was totally alive for the first time in her life.

She needed this kind of rough stuff. She needed it like a man dying of thirst needs water.

She had never known it before. It had been a hidden urge locked up behind her contempt for all men. But when Morgan showed her that a man could make her do whatever he wanted, she found her true self. She needed to be used by this man in whatever fashion his mind could conjure up. It was necessary for her.

"I'm tired of you." He turned and left her on the floor with the vibrator chugging merrily away in her cunt.

She didn't know how long she lay there, her arms chained behind her back, her ass burning from the spanking, her insides aching from the enema. It was long enough for the batteries to run down in the vibrator. She thought it must have been at least two hours.

Then he came back.

"Please, I need more! Do it all to me again! Please!"

He looked bored. "Never mind that. Come into my office." He turned and went back through the door into his plush office.

She struggled to her feet. She was a bit unsteady. But she managed to follow Morgan. She wanted more from him. She needed his abuse to show her that she couldn't use a man like a paper towel, then discard him.

"Sit down," he said, indicating a straight-backed wooden chair.

She screamed when she sat down. The seat of the chair was filled with thousands of sharp little needles.

"Shut up and sit!" he barked.

She sat.

The prickles going into her tortured ass reminded her of his complete dominance over her. She would do anything she could to please him. The brief sensation of his cock fucking her was worth all the humiliation he dished out. She would do anything to get more of it.

"Here's a one-year contract. I provide food and board. Nothing else for the entire period. And, if you successfully finish the year, you collect ten percent of the station's gross. Not net, gross. It's doing well. And if you push up the revenue with better ratings, you stand to make a couple hundred thousand. But only at the end of a year."

"B-but what if you fire me?"

"You get nothing."

"B-but…"

"You'll just have to make sure you continue to please me. Your continued employment will be predicted on all sorts of duties. Your air time, of course, plus the station manager's usual job. And, uh, whenever I require your presence here, I'll buzz."

"I… I have to sign the contract before I get the job?"

"Of course."

Cheryl furiously thought about what she should do. It would be pure hell going through an entire year, not getting one cent. But the carrot dangled at the end of the stick – at the end of the year – was enticing. A quarter of a million dollars, maybe more!

And all she had to do was sign – and let herself be used in whatever fashion this man chose. For a year. Three hundred and sixty-five days.

She decided. The pain in her ass decided her. The way her insides ached from the corrosive enema decided her. The whip marks, the spanked ass, the bruises from her chains, all decided her.

This was a man she could worship. "Where do I sign?"

He had to unlock her chains for her to sign the contract, then he used her again. All night long.

And she loved him for it.