The Office Slave #5: Please, Master Read online

  The vibrator started to pulse. Her gaze jerked to the webcam, but it wasn't on.

  Then the door flung open and Mr. King strode inside. He was holding his phone in his hand.

  She hooked her knees over the armrests of the chair, her insides quivering with the pulsing device inside her.

  “You are so God-damned, fucking sexy I couldn't stay away.”

  He dropped his jacket and stripped off his shirt as he closed the distance between them. He stopped in front of her and dropped his pants to the floor.

  He knelt down and pulled the little cord attached to the vibrator and flung it aside. The still vibrating device rolled across the floor then under the desk. The humming sound, though slightly muffled, still filled the room.

  He grabbed his cock, which was towering tall and proud, and glided the tip over her wet slit.

  “Ohhhh, Mr. King.” The mere feel of it almost made her come.

  Then he drove inside her. Hard and deep. She gasped, grabbing his shoulders. He thrust again and she whimpered.

  “Oh, Master, please,” she begged. “I want to come so bad.”

  “You'd better fucking come.” He leaned against her ear and murmured, “And tell me what I want to hear.”

  “Yes! Ohhhh, yes.” Pleasure swelled inside her, pulsing through every cell in her body.

  He pumped harder and faster. The intensity of the sensations… of his thick cock stretching her… of it driving deep inside her… overwhelmed her with need.

  He drove deeper still and she moaned.

  “Oh, Master.” She arched against him. “I'm… ahhhh… going to come.”

  He spiraled his thick rod inside her and she clung tight, pulling him against her. The joyful sensations exploded inside her.

  “Erik...you're…making...me...ohhh…. I'm coming now.” Then she wailed her release as she shot off to ecstasy.

  He drove into her faster, groaning, then he jerked forward and pulsed inside her, hot liquid filling her. Driving her bliss higher.

  He continued pumping, keeping her orgasm going and going. Her moans slowly faded with the ebbing pleasure and finally she slumped back in the chair.

  His lips trailed along her neck.

  “You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmured against her skin.

  She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.

  “Thank you, Master.” She brushed her lips along his neck, then murmured against his ear.

  “I love you, Mr. King.”

  Sylvia never wanted to lie to him. But it's what he wanted to hear. And she wanted to make him happy. So she told him she loved him. Every day.

  The glow in his eyes was a reward beyond measure. To make someone that happy was a privilege. Especially when it was someone who cared for her so much.

  And loved her.

  And she wanted it to be true so badly.

  Maybe one day it would be, if she said it enough.

  Or maybe it didn't matter, as long as she acted as if it were true.

  Three more weeks had gone by and Mr. King was happy that Sylvia seemed to be falling in love with him. It was his dream come true.

  He held her close to him in the darkness, never wanting to let go. He breathed in the sweet scent of her hair and sighed.

  She murmured in her sleep.

  He kissed her temple, then stroked her hair behind her ear. She arched her body, her round ass brushing against his cock. It hardened immediately.

  “Are you awake?” he whispered against her ear, but she didn't answer.

  Then she moaned softly. The sound sent heat through his veins.

  He cupped her breasts and she arched against his hands. Her nipples were hard and swollen. His cock twitched. He nuzzled her neck and she sighed. He ran his hand down her stomach and stopped an inch from her mound, but she covered his hand and pushed it further down until it was between her thighs. He brushed over her folds, then dipped inside, just far enough to feel the moisture pooled there.

  Fuck, she was turned on. She was having a sex dream.

  His cock was so hard, it ached. She pushed her lovely ass against him again.

  “Master, please fuck me.” Her voice was soft and needy.

  He stroked her damp folds, wanting to push inside her so bad. He grasped his cock and slid it over her slick flesh, to her soft murmurs of approval, then he gently and slowly pushed inside her, groaning softly at the feel of her warm, wet passage gripping him snuggly.

  He teased her nipples as he glided deeper. She sighed softly.

  Once he was all the way inside, delighting in the feel of her all around him, he gripped her hips, holding her snug to him, reveling in being joined so intimately to the woman he loved.

  She pressed her head back against his shoulder. “Please, I need you.”

  Ah, fuck. Her words sent joy pounding through him.

  He drew back, then eased into her again. Her slick passage squeezed him in an erotic stroke as he pulled away and then glided deep again. So hot. So tight.

  “Oh, yes. Yes,” she whimpered.

  He picked up speed, filling her hot passage with his hard-as-rock cock. His heart pounded. His head spun as he fucked this wonderful, sexy woman.

  Her breathing—fast and erratic—echoed his own. Now he was thrusting into her like a jackhammer. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

  “Oh, God...” The last word ended on a squeak, and she sucked in air. Then she moaned.

  God, she was starting to come.

  He found her clit and stroked it while he pounded into her. Her soft moans grew higher pitched as she arched her back, pushing her pussy tighter to him, her head resting back on his shoulder.

  Then she wailed and he exploded inside her, erupting like an angry, pent-up volcano.

  They slumped together, breathing rapidly. She took his wrists and wrapped his arms around her and snuggled back against him.

  He pressed his lips to her neck.

  “I love you, Mr. Grant,” she murmured softly.

  Something was wrong. His body stiffened behind her and...Had she just told Mr. Grant she loved him? That was bad. He wouldn't like that… but… Confusion coiled through her.

  He pulled away and the haze of sleep dissipated.

  Where was she? She glanced around the room, barely seeing anything by the ghostly moonlight.

  Then it hit her.

  Oh, God. She wasn't in Mr. Grant's bedroom. Mr. Grant had… Her heart contracted. She didn't belong to him anymore.

  She turned to glance over her shoulder.

  Mr. King's piercing blue eyes locked on her confused ones for a second…

  Then he pushed away, his big cock sliding from her body. He said nothing as he got out of bed and strode from the room.

  The rest of the night, Sylvia barely slept. Mr. King didn't come back, and she wondered if she should go to her room to give him space, but that might be exactly the wrong thing to do. He might take that as even more of a rejection.

  Because clearly he'd found her professing her love for another man a huge rejection.

  Her heart ached. She hated that she'd hurt him.

  Her eyelids fluttered open to sunlight and she realized she had finally dozed off. Mr. King was standing by the bed, staring at her. His presence must have been what had woken her.

  “Here, put this on,” he said as he dropped something on the bed.

  It looked like a leather and chain harness.

  “Be downstairs in ten minutes.” He turned and strode away.

  She pushed herself from the bed and rushed through her morning routine, then donned the harness. The leather straps hugged her body and the chains cascaded in gentle arches under them. Her breasts were completely bare, surround by the leather straps, and her pussy and behind were exposed, too.

  She walked down the stairs. Mr. King was waiting for her in the living room, a stern expression on his face.

  “Mr. King… Erik… I'm so sorry—”

  “Silence.” His harsh tone sto
pped her words flat. “Kneel in front of me.”

  She knelt and, in a very business-like fashion, he took her wrists and wrapped a leather band around each one.

  Then he held up a collar. On the front the word 'slave' was spelled out in metal letters. He pushed her long, dark hair out of the way and fastened it around her neck.

  He stood up. “Now let's go.”

  Her eyes widened. “We're going out. But...”

  “Put on your coat. You'll be fine,” he said tersely.

  She found her coat, which suddenly didn't feel long enough. She stepped into the black pumps sitting at the entrance, then followed him out to the car.

  She glanced his way every few minutes, intimidated by his stern expression. This wasn't just him being the authoritative Master. He was upset with her.

  He pulled up in front of an elegant, high rise hotel. The doorman opened the car door for her and she carefully held her coat together as she got out of the car, not wanting to flash everything she had at the man and passersby.

  She felt very self-conscious as they walked across the lobby. He stopped at the desk.

  “The other gentlemen have already arrived,” the desk clerk said as he handed Mr. King a key card. He then grasped her arm and led her to the elevator. Moments later, they stood outside the double doors of a suite. She realized this was the same hotel where she'd first met Mr. King. When Mr. Grant had summoned her here to pleasure his four associates in celebration of a business deal. Mr. King had been one of those four men.

  He opened the door and she stepped inside. It was the same large, luxurious suite with four beige brocade upholstered armchairs with high backs and wooden armrests arranged around one side of an oval coffee table, a plush beige couch on the other side. A large window overlooked the city below.

  She stepped further into the suite and déjà vu washed through her when she saw the other three men from that previous meeting sitting in the chairs waiting for them. The men—Mr. Robertson, Mr. Jacobs, and Mr. Smith—were all as handsome as she remembered, wearing their expensive, well-tailored suits and silk ties.

  “King, good to see you again.” But Mr. Robertson's gaze was locked on her.

  “You, of course, remember Sylvia.”

  “Of course we do.” Mr. Jacobs' familiar grin set his eyes alight. “Does this mean Grant will be joining us, too?”

  “No,” Mr. King said curtly. “Sylvia is mine now.”

  Mr. Robertson chuckled. “Well, I never thought he'd let her go. I wish I'd known. I would have beat whatever offer you made for her.”

  Mr. King lifted an eyebrow. “It's a good thing you didn't know then, isn't it?”

  Mr. Robertson laughed again. “No offense intended, King. Just be sure to let me know if you intend to part with her.” The man winked at her. “I'd be happy to take her off your hands.”

  “Or is that why we're here?” Mr. Smith asked. “To bid on her? Because I'm certainly interested.”

  “As am I,” said Mr. Jacobs.

  Butterflies fluttered through Sylvia's stomach. Mr. King was mad at her about last night, and frustrated that she didn't return his feelings, but… would he sell her?

  Mr. King waved away their comments. “Let's drop any talk of such mundane things right now. I invited you here to have a drink.” He walked behind Sylvia and reached around her and unzipped her coat, then tugged it open, baring her to them. “And enjoy a little entertainment together.”

  The men's eyes widened at the sight of her essentially naked body. Mr. King pulled the coat from her shoulders.

  “Gentlemen, let's move the coffee table. I think it'll just be in the way.”

  In two seconds flat, the three men had moved the oval table out of the way, leaving an open space between the chairs and the couch. Mr. King gripped her shoulder and pressed her forward, guiding her to the center of the open space.

  “Why don't you three sit on the couch,” he suggested as he sat down in one of the chairs.

  They sat, staring at her body with hunger in their eyes.

  “Turn around, Sylvia.”

  She turned, slowly, her eyes downcast.

  “Are you offering the same as Grant did?”

  “No,” Mr. King said. At their frowns, he added, “Grant set limits. I have none.”

  “You mean we can—?” Mr. Smith asked.

  “Do anything you want with her,” Mr. King interjected.

  Mr. Robertson laughed. “Well then. Let's get started. Come over here, Sylvia.”

  “Look at her collar,” Mr. King said. “Tonight she has no name. Just call her slave. And she will call each of you Master, or Sir. Understood, slave?”

  “Yes, Master.” She walked to Mr. Robertson, who sat in the middle of the couch.

  “Kneel down, slave,” he said as he unzipped his pants. As she did, he pulled out his cock, which was just starting to rise. He grasped her hair, coiling it around his hand, then pulled her toward him. He pressed his cockhead to her mouth.

  “Suck it.”

  She opened her mouth to take him inside, but he pulled her head forward, driving his cock halfway down her throat.

  “Do you like it rough, little slave? Because I want to ram my cock right up your ass so hard you'll scream. Last time, your sweet, fucking little mouth and cunt just wet my appetite for this.” His hand stroked over her ass, then squeezed.

  Sylvia shivered at his words. Would Mr. King really let this man hurt her? Because the way he described what he wanted to do to her gave her no doubt the man wouldn't care if he did. In fact, maybe he wanted to hurt her.

  “Hey, Robertson, don't scare her,” Mr. Jacobs said. “I don't want her all tense and nervous when I fuck her.”

  Mr. Robertson kept pulling her forward, until his cock was fully in her mouth, then held her there.

  “King, I really want to fuck her, too, but I’d prefer to do it without an audience,” Mr. Smith said. “How about you let us take her into the bedroom, one at a time?”

  “The slave likes having sex with more than one man at a time,” Mr. King said, “but if you'd like privacy from the others to fuck her, I'll allow that. But only if I'm present.”

  “Sure thing,” Mr. Smith said.

  His sideways glance at Mr. Robertson, and the fact he’d shared her in front of the other men before, told her that Mr. Smith probably didn't care about the others being present. It seems she wasn't the only one Mr. Robertson made uncomfortable.

  “I don't give a fuck who sees me,” Mr. Robertson said. “And right now, I just want that pretty little mouth fucking my cock.

  He tugged her hair, pulling her back, then rammed her forward again. She felt like she was choking on his big shaft.

  “Give the woman a chance to breathe,” Mr. Jacobs said.

  Mr. Robertson pulled her back again, his hard cock dragging along her lips.

  “You want to get down there and do it for her?” he asked.

  He pulled her forward and back, filling her again and again. Then she felt him tense and he shot deep into her throat.

  When he was finished, he pulled her off and released her hair, then slumped on the couch.

  “Mr. Smith, take the slave into the bedroom and I'll join you in a minute.”

  Mr. Smith stood up and took Sylvia's hand, then led her to a the double doors at the end of the room. He pushed them open to reveal a huge bedroom with a large king-sized bed in the center.

  “I'm sorry Robertson treated you like that,” Mr. Smith said as he sat on the side of the bed. “He had a few drinks before you got here and he's acting like a jerk.”

  She nodded, and sank to her knees in front of him. She rested her hand on the front of his pants and felt his large bulge. She unzipped him.

  “Would you like me to suck your cock?”

  He smiled. “That's what I like. A woman who knows what I want.”

  She smiled, then drew out his erection. She wrapped her hand around it and felt the blood pulsing through it. She pressed it to her
lips and licked the tip, then widened her mouth to take the mushroom-shaped head inside. She glided forward and back, swirling her tongue over the hot, firm surface.

  The door opened and Mr. King came into the room, followed by Mr. Jacobs.

  “Robertson has left,” Mr. King said. “Evan, would you still like privacy?”

  Mr. Smith shook his head. “I wouldn't want Carl sitting out there on his own.”

  Sylvia glided his length again and he cupped her head, guiding her lightly.

  “In fact, Carl, come join me,” Mr. Smith said. “She can do us both at the same time.”

  Mr. Jacobs sat down on the bed beside Mr. Smith and unzipped his pants, then pulled his cock into view. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked while she glided on Mr. Smith's cock a few more times.

  Then she switched and pressed Mr. Jacobs' cock to her lips. She watched him as she opened her mouth around his cockhead and took it inside, the whole time stroking Mr. Smith's column with her other hand.

  She took Mr. Jacobs deep a few times, then drew back to switch.

  “You know, I'm loving this,” Mr. Jacobs said, “but this will make me come pretty fast, and I'd really like to enjoy the sight...”—he grinned—“and feel of this beautiful, naked woman at our disposal.”

  “Good idea. In fact, I have something to make this a little more… stimulating,” Mr. King said. “Slave, come here.”

  Sylvia released both hard cocks and stood up, then walked to Mr. King. He pulled something that clanked from his suit jacket pocket. It was a three-way chain with three tweezer-like clamps.

  The nipple clamps she understood, though had never used them, but the third… The possibility sent nervous excitement surging through her.

  He opened one of the black tipped pincers and clamped it around one of her nipples. It pinched a little., but was also arousing. He clamped the other nipple. The chain, which was about as heavy as a dog leash, pulled on her nipples, causing more stimulation. Then he crouched in front of her and his finger glided over her folds. She felt him position the other clamp over her sensitive flesh and…

  “Oh...” The pinching sensation there was… odd. It hurt a little but also felt… good.