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Collected by Djian
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Collected by Djian
Corporate Slut
If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.
If you don't like stories about sex with underage
children, 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.
Find my stories here-
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/normdeploom/
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
Part 01
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.