2 comments/ 133786 views/ 16 favorites A Lesson from the Boss Ch. 01 By: JamieRed Only when the first blow hit did I finally realize something had gone horribly wrong. This trip was supposed to be easy--a three-day conference in DC, mostly listening and learning at the seminars. Only one presentation; no marketing. Just taking notes in sessions on our industry's latest trends. The new CEO, Mike, had wanted his senior VPs to attend at least two conferences like this every year. This time it was me and one other SVP, Darren, from production. When we'd checked in to the luxury hotel, we had each gotten two room cards, and Mike had asked for our extras, "just in case" he needed to look over any of the presentation materials while we were out. He promised he'd never enter without knocking and only use the key if he knew we weren't in the room. I believed him. He was the boss. That evening, we went to one brief welcoming session, then out to dinner with one of our vendors. A juicy steak, a glorious pinot noir, and three hours of laughing meant I returned to the room exhausted, tipsy, and ready for bed. I heard the door open about one in the morning, but my mind didn't really register what was happening. I am slow to wake up any morning, but now my head was clouded with wine. I struggled up and reached for the lamp when a blow across the side of my face slammed my head into the pillow and lights danced before my eyes. Hands grabbed my arms and spun me sideways across the bed. I opened my mouth to scream, only to have a silken cloth shoved deep into the back of my throat. Two figures hovered over me, illuminated by the moonlight from the window. We were on the 22nd floor, so I'd left the drapes open. The room seemed bathed in silver shadows, giving enough light for me to see the two men but not enough to tell much about them. They wore ski masks and a duffle bag over his shoulder made the one gripping my arms look hunched and menacing. "Hurry!" he hissed. His partner grabbed my nightgown and pulled it over my head, using it to tie my wrists tightly. Then he looked down at my bare breasts. "Damn! He was right about her tits. They're huge! Magnificent!" He grabbed my left breast, pulling it up to a point and pinching the nipple hard. My body, now shot full of adrenaline, bucked under him. Hands tightened on my arms, even though my wrists were now tied together, and fingers dug into my forearms. "Don't get distracted! Get her legs!" The partner went to the duffel bag and opened a zipper, pulling out a long bar, with what looked like cuffs on either end. Now fear shot through me as my mind finally comprehended what they were about to do. Terror. Real, honest-to-god terror. "NO!" I screamed, but the sound around the cloth was no more than a muffled whine. I fought, my body bucking and twisting. But my feet slipped on the sheets and struck only air as I kicked. The partner grabbed one leg and tucked the ankle neatly under his arm, his hands like a vise on my calf. He buckled the cuffs around my knees, one by one, the bar holding my knees so far apart that my hips ached. He then turned me over and pulled me toward him, lifting my hips easily and shoving two pillows under my stomach. My ass and legs now dangled over the edge of the bed, spread and exposed. He pulled another rope out of the duffle and tied it around my wrists on top of my gown, then secured it tightly to the bed frame, stretching my arms so tightly over my head that my muscles protested. I wasn't tall enough for my head to reach the other side of the bed, and I jerked my head to the side so that I didn't smother in the covers, air burning as it rushed in and out of my nostrils. The first man, finally releasing my arms, slung the duffle off his back, letting it hit the ground with a thud. "Damn, she's a fighter." His partner laughed, low and dark. "I do like a feisty bitch. You ready?" "And eager." I still fought, even as the fear clawed through me like an animal. Were they going to kill me or just rape me? They rustled through the bag in front of me, and my eyes widened as they pulled out a riding crop, a paddle, and a handful of clamps. They dropped them next to my face, amused by the look on my face as I stared at the clamps. "All in good time, slut." Then the blows started. One worked the paddle on my ass and thighs; the other used the crop on my pussy and back. Soft at first, then harder, building the red and the burn. I screamed into the bed, thrashing uselessly against the bonds, tears streaming from my eyes. Pain seared through me, and my clit felt as if someone had struck a match on it. I tried to count the blows at first, then it all became a endless round of slaps and pops, and pain swelled over my lower body and filled my mind. Then they stopped, and the partner rubbed his hands slowly over everything, pressing in on the flesh, while the first man returned to the bag. Hands caressed me, rubbing my ass, then fingers moved gently in and out of my cunt. "You like it, don't you, bitch? Like the burn. Like the arousal of it." I struggled in a burst of fury, but they only laughed. Then I heard a soft humming, and I twisted my head. The first man held in front of me a huge vibrator, one with a large clit stimulator. I tried to shake my head, but I knew my own body was about to betray me. I have one of the same kind of vibrators at home, and it's my favorite toy. I can't resist it, and I can come multiple times in one night with it. Sometimes as soon as I insert it. This was not good, not good at . . . . The head touched my swollen, painful clit, and I moaned, my back arching. "He said she'd love it," the partner said. "Said he knew she was a slut in disguise." Humiliation racked me. Who was "he"? How would "he" know? Was this arranged by someone who knew. . . . I groaned as the big head moved down, rubbing me, up and down, making my juices flow. I fought it, my eyes squeezing tight. Go somewhere else, don't think about it. Let your mind . . . Then the vibrator was in, deep, the clit stimulator pressing hard against me, massaging, working its magic. The humming increased as the speed did, and my hips reared, pressing into the arousal. I hated it, and loved it. My orgasm peaked quickly, and my cunt tightened, my body rocking, jerking with the waves of pleasure. They laughed, and I heard more zippers. With a sudden jerk, the first one shoved his cock, hard as a pipe, into my ass above the vibrator. Pleasure turned to anguish again, as my asshole resisted, tight and virginal, and he had to pump hard to get fully in. Lights danced in my eyes from the pain, but I had little time to react. He drove hard and fast, opening me, and he let out a low moan of satisfaction as he finished, pulling out and dumping semen on my back and ass. He pulled out the vibrator and shut it off. I felt empty, used, and spent. My mind reeled with the pain, the humiliation of the unbelievable orgasm. I panted for breath, and my body gave in to exhaustion, deflating limply on the soaked sheets. "Oh, no, you little whore," the partner said. "No time to relax. We've only just begun." With that, he gathered up the clamps near my face and the first one grabbed my hips, flipping me over. My arms twisted across each other as he did, wrenching my shoulders. He readjusted the pillows under my lower back, so that now it was my pussy that was most exposed, spread wide. He picked up the crop again and slapped my thighs and lips several times, causing me to jump each time. With a grin of wicked pleasure, his partner spread my lips and attached a clamp to each. I screamed against the cloth as the teeth bit in, to no avail. "Scream all you want, my little slut. It only makes us crazier to fuck you." He attached weights to each clamp and draped them over my thighs, ensuring my lips were pulled as far apart as they could be. Then he attached two to my clit, the fire of it soaring through my cunt and all the way to my brain. He stepped back, and the first one began with the crop again, sharp, snapped blows on my pussy, thighs, and ass, as his partner went to work on my breasts. "Magnificent," he muttered again, as he massaged them, rolling the flesh in his large hands. "You like having these played with, don't you, whore? Like having them pulled and spanked and pinched." I shook my head furiously, but the truth was, he was right. One former boyfriend had been so adept at teasing my breasts that he'd once brought me to orgasm just by using them. I squeezed my eyes shut tight against the thought, but the partner seemed a master at his job, and my mind, my body, gave way as he massaged and licked, teased, sucked, and pinched my nipples. "You love it," he whispered. "You want more, slut." The crop slapped harder, and arousal spread through me like rain, and my nipples tightened, wanting more. Without warning, I moaned with the pleasure, and they both laughed. "We have her," the partner said, and he reached for more clamps. One for each nipple and one each for the side of my breasts. He then got off the bed and the first one stepped to the side and grabbed the spreader bar, pulling it up over my body. The partner pulled the clamps from my pussy lips and clit, and I bucked as the blood rushed back. He stepped up, pulled his cock from his pants, and rammed it into my cunt. He was big, bigger than the vibrator, and he plunged in hard and deep, grabbing my hips and riding me unrelentingly. His thrust were so deep and powerful, my entire body bounced and moved on the bed with each one. I struggled, screeching into the cloth, but I came hard, my juices coating both of us. He pulled out at the last minute, showering my pussy, belly, and thighs. The first one released the bar and my legs dropped loosely, limply over the pillows and the edge of the bed. They moved quickly, uncuffing the spreader bar, and gathering all the toys. I couldn't move from the pain and exhaustion. The partner untied my wrists last, and as he did so, he whispered, "He just wanted to make sure you knew who was in charge. He wanted you to feel it tomorrow, in your chair. No panties. He'll know." With that, they were gone. I gingerly pulled the cloth from my mouth. My own panties. I got a drink to moisten my parched mouth, and I almost picked up the phone and reported the attack, but his last words haunted me. Mike? Was this Mike's doing? But why? None of the SVPs had challenged his taking over, especially me. I was good at my job, but I sure didn't want his. And I wasn't qualified for it. Did he think I would challenge him? I took a shower instead, cautiously washing each bruised and welted area of my body. It was almost 6am. I was supposed to meet Mike and Darren for breakfast at 7am. It was definitely going to be an interesting day. A Lesson from the Boss Ch. 02 I dressed meticulously for breakfast in what my ex-boyfriend had called my "soldier suit": a demure navy blue suit, cream silk blouse, thigh-high hose, lace bra, and navy pumps. The bra's lace made my bruised nipples ache. No panties, and not just because of the command from last night. My ass and thighs still burned like fire, and the number of welts around my pussy lips had startled me. Sitting with my legs closed, as a lady should, was going to be difficult. Still, I tried, but I squirmed slightly as the server sat my plate of eggs and fruit in front of me. The chair in the elegant restaurant was covered in soft brocade, but I could feel ever whorl in the pattern on the back of my tender thighs. Mike gave no sign that anything had changed. He was pleasant and business-like. As always, he'd paid careful attention to his appearance. His sales background served him well as CEO, and his dark hair was as immaculate as his thousand-dollar suit. Mike's genuine tan--from days in the tropics, not the salon--emphasized his good looks. He treated Darren and me cordially, professionally, and we headed to the first seminar in high spirits. I twisted as I sat in the hard conference chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Finally, I pushed the chair back and sat with the barest edge of it under my thighs, leaning forward so that most of my sore ass was up off the surface. Mike poured me a glass of water from the pitcher in front of us and leaned closer as he handed it to me. "Are you OK?" I nodded, but drank deeply, and I thought I saw, from the corner of my eye, a quick smile on his face. When I glanced at him, however, he seemed focused on the speaker. So the day went. Me squirming and trying to hide it; him occasionally asking me if I were OK. Finally, dinner arrived, and I was deliciously grateful for the dark restaurant and flowing wine. I drank several glasses, relishing the lush, dark taste and aroma, and when we left, I was glad we had taken a cab. We retired to our adjacent rooms, and this time I carefully put the security lock in place before taking a hot bath and slipping between the sheets. I slept on my side, which was the only part of my body not still carrying the tenderness of last night, and naked, since my gown had been destroyed in the attack. I awoke to a pressure on my face. My eyes flew open, adrenaline spiking, to see masked faces over me again. My mind, dulled by the wine and lack of sleep, reacted slower than last night, but I still managed to get one slap off at a face before my hands were captured and tied again. How did they get in here? I twisted my head, trying to look around before they could get the gag in my mouth--a washcloth from the bathroom this time. No good. Almost out of instinct, I struggled, kicking and pulling my arms, and a hard blow to the side of my head dazed me. I temporarily went limp. They took advantage of the time to pull me off the bed and one held me by the wrists and hair, forcing me to my knees facing the window. Behind me, I heard the scraping, rustling sounds of furniture and bedclothes being moved. "She looks beautiful like this, don't you think?" I recognized the voice of the partner from last night. "All gagged and ready to fuck." "Shut up," the first one said, "and let's get her ready." The hand in my hair pulled up and I struggled to my feet as two other hands grabbed my arms and jerked them hard behind me and out of the partner's grasp. I screeched into the cloth as they bound my wrists and elbows together, and tried to kick out with one foot. They slung me around, and I gaped at the bed. One of the straight chairs from the desk had been turned upside down on the bed to form an a-frame, the legs sticking up in the air. They had padded the top of the frame with pillows, and they lifted me, shoulders and legs, and settled me down across the chair, so that my head and breasts hung on one side, my ass on the other. My waist and hips were pinned between the upright legs of the chair. Within seconds, the spreader bar was between my knees, holding me wide. Then they stood back to admire their handiwork. The chair had been placed near and across the foot of the bed, which meant my head drooped near the edge of the bed closest to the door. My breasts pressed against the slats of the back of the chair, and with a nod at his partner, the first one moved forward and began to manipulate the flesh of my large breasts, forcing them through the narrow openings between the slats. The first pain of the night, and I whimpered as he pulled the nipples, tugging them hard, stretching them, as my tits slowly eased through, bulging like overfilled balloons. "Now let's really get started," the partner said, glee in his voice. The duffle bag sat at their feet, and they opened it. He pulled out the riding crop; the first one lifted out a belt of soft leather. Humiliation wracked me, and I squeezed my eyes tight as the first blows came, harder than last night, running pain over me like scalding water. The belt seemed to lance my already tortured ass, thighs, and pussy, as the crop popped sharply against my tits, stinging tightly. To my horror, my nipples hardened and stood out like scarlet pearls against my reddened flesh. My screams into the cloth gave way to moans, and tears flooded my face. Then, they stopped. Gently, the first one rubbed a soothing cream over my ass and thighs massaging it into the muscles. The partner used a cold wet cloth from the bathroom to clean my face and sooth the raw flesh of my tits. But as they did so, they used the tenderness to arouse me, one rubbing my clit between two fingers, pulling, but without pain. His partner teased my nipples with the cloth until I realized my arousal ran deep. I tried to shut if off, turn my mind away, but, as it was last night, it didn't help. Then the first one took at the vibrator as his partner pulled up a chair to my side. The vibrator moved against my clit, slowly, pushing my need higher and higher. The partner whispered. "You really are a slut, aren't you? You need this. To be taken. Whipped. Controlled. Fucked. Made to cum until you pass out." The vibrator slid in, and the first one turned it higher, shoving it deep, holding it. I fought it, tried to turn my head away from the partner, who wound his fingers into my hair and turned my face back toward him, even as the fingers of his other hand squeezed and pulled my nipples. "Fucked hard, like the bitch you are. Bound until you can't moved, fucked until you can't walk." I came hard, my back arching, my body thrashing like a trapped animal in my bonds. I could feel the flood of my juices pouring out of me, and the orgasm rocked me until my head spun. The partner laughed low, and pinched the nipples harder. "I knew it. You love it. Want it. You just came like a whore in heat, and you want more, don't you?" I tried to shake my head, spit oozing around the cloth, but he held my hair tighter, pulling my head back. "Yes, you do." The vibrator remained in me, on high, and I heard another sound, another humming. Dismayed, I tensed as a second vibrator entered my ass, and the first guy leaned against me, holding them deep in me with one hand as the other reached for a paddle. I screamed into the cloth as the paddle struck, and the partner released my hair and backed away and reached for a set of weighted clamps. He hung them on my nipples as my head drooped forward against the chair. With vibrators in my ass and pussy, I came again, weaker this time, my body spent. The first one pulled the vibrators out and dropped them in the bag, replacing them with more weighted clamps on my pussy lips and clit. The pain overwhelmed me and every muscle went limp. I was unable to fight any more, unable to move, unable to do anything but absorb the punishment. "I think she's ready," the first one said. "Indeed." His partner went to the door that adjoined my room to Mike's, and pulled it open. Light spilled in, and my CEO strolled in, still in his business suit. Backlit by the yellow glow, Mike appeared calm, his hands at his sides. I could only imagine how I looked at that moment, defeated, coated in sweat and semen, my body covered in red patches and welts. Mike walked around the bed, his fingers lightly tracing along my shoulders, back, and ass. He tugged on the weights clinging to my clit and I whimpered. He made a slight shushing noise, then put his cool palm flat against the cheek of my ass. He turned and came back to my face, tugging on my clamped nipples. "You are a beautiful woman. Intelligent. An asset to my staff. MY staff. I wanted you to realize exactly how much in charge I am, and what it means to be obedient to me. The rewards will be greater than you can imagine, but you must be obedient." He stopped in front of my face. "Are you willing?" I should report this; have him arrested. Instead, I nodded. "Very good." He gave a look at the first one, and I heard a chair slid to the far edge of the bed. The clamps were removed and I groaned, then stopped as another sensation began, a warm firm touch on my clit, circling, pulling, massaging. His tongue! I closed my eyes, a deep, almost unfathomable pleasure building in me as his tongue explored, pressing, pushing in as deep as he could. Mike reached down and removed the cloth, and a sob of pure pleasure burst from me. My arousal seemed endless and I needed to cum, to climax hard. But the tongue always stopped too soon, always pulled back at the last moment. "Do you want to cum?" Mike asked. "Yes, oh YES!" "You would do anything? Beg for anything?" This was agony. "Please!" Mike unzipped his pants and pulled his cock free. Huge and dark, almost purplish, it was engorged, pre-cum already moistening the tip. "Take it," he commanded. "Suck me off." He plunged his hands into my hair and pulled my head back. My mouth opened, and he stepped up, shoving it into my mouth. Salty and hot, so thick it felt as if I had a soup can in my mouth, I gagged, then fought back the sensation. I push my tongue against the length and sucked as hard as I could. At my pussy, a tongue still explored, driving me mad. I moaned against Mike's cock, and he let out a little sigh. "That's it, my pet." But he didn't wait for me to try harder. Instead, he tightened his grip on my hair and began to fuck my face in earnest, forcing my jaws apart and driving his cock in and out, faster and faster. I gagged again as he started to cum, semen shooting down my throat and filling my mouth. He let go with one hand and grabbed my nose, forcing me to swallow. Then he stepped back and motioned to the partner. "Your turn," he said, then returned to his room, closing the door behind him. The partner stepped into his place with a grin. "Now that we know what you can and will do. . ." He jerked my head back and I took his cock in my mouth. Smaller than Mike, he fucked me harder, and I gagged more than I sucked, until he too came. I swallowed some, but he pulled out and shot most of his cum on my face and hair. At my pussy, however, the first man devoured me as if he were at a buffet, licking and biting ever inch. This time, I came in an explosive flourish, my body shivering in its spasms, deep moans echoing out of me. It wasn't yet over. They both fucked me again, the first one in my mouth; the partner in my ass. Both showered me with their semen, and both used the riding crop again. But it became a blur, and sometime near dawn, I passed out from the pain. When I woke, I could barely move, but I was clean and properly tucked in. I got up and took a long soothing bath. I had one more day of the conference. Again, Mike acted as if nothing had passed during the night. I did notice, however, that Darren had a difficult time sitting still, and I gave him an understanding smile as I passed him a cold glass of water. That night, Mike invited us both to his room, and sometime after the fifth or sixth bourbon, Mike mentioned to Darren how much I craved spankings and double penetration. . . .