4 comments/ 28281 views/ 10 favorites The Fixer Ch. 02 By: StephenWolfe60 Life had finally begun to settle back into a peaceful routine for me in the weeks since Derek had returned to the home office, at least to any casual observer. I smiled, I chatted, I was friendly with people on a surface level. I went to the kids games and acted like just another mom in the bleachers. I fixed dinner and made school lunches in the morning. I had been able to get back into a workaday routine that served to keep my mind busy enough that I didn't find myself thinking back over the trauma of that last week before headquarters had finally called Derek back home and out of my life, hopefully forever. Still, I was not the same old Diane. I was the only one who knew it except maybe for Derek, and I was pretty sure that self centered jerk wasn't thinking about me anymore. As much as I hated the thought of Derek's face every time it popped back up in my mind's eye, he had begun something in me that I was trying very hard to ignore. If I let my thoughts drift back to that hour in the store-room with Derek, I became so overwhelmed with self loathing, so utterly disgusted at the behavior I had consented to, I would lock myself in the bathroom and cry. When the whirlwind images and intense feelings of those stolen moments came back into my mind, they were juxtaposed against images of my husband and children, and I felt devastatingly ashamed. For weeks after I would find myself wanting to cry and having to conceal it, or waking up in the middle of the night gripped in guilty fear. I worried that I may have caught an STD, or that Derek would brag to someone about the things he'd done to me, and my co-workers at headquarters would find out, or that my husband would somehow suspect. I knew for sure I could never confess it to him. Sure, it was the only time I've ever really been unfaithful, and it was just that once, but I'm too ashamed to admit to the level of depravity I sank to in that one episode. I can hardly even bear the shame of repeating the things I said and did in my own mind. I guess that's why I'm writing this. A quick visit to a discreet women's clinic allayed the fear of STD's, and over the next few weeks, I had been able to get past the guilt enough to live with it at some level. Then, there are these other times I awake in the middle of the night. The times I find myself suddenly awake in my sexless bed next to my snoring hulk of a husband. I feel so alone. At these other times I struggle with even stronger feelings than fear, guilt or self-loathing. As traumatic and shameful as my one-time "tryst" with Derek had been, it was unfortunately the first time in years that I had experienced an orgasm that was not the result of impulsive, secretive and deliciously dirty masturbation. I had also never experienced multiple orgasms prior to getting fucked by Derek, I hadn't even thought they were possible for me. As much as I hate to admit it, the orgasms I experienced with Derek were the best and most intense I have ever had. The whole thing had been an intense workout; for days afterward I was sore all over. He had spanked my bottom bright red, stretched my poor little vagina with his big cock and my virgin rectum with his big finger and given me a three day UTI to boot. Those were just the physical consequences. The psychological ones were longer lasting; the shameful feelings in the pit of my stomach every time I thought of the degrading acts I'd consented to. I couldn't imagine much worse than being on my knees licking a man's scrotum, eye to eye with his anus while reaching around front and jerking his cock. I had no other experience with which to compare to that one single hour, not in my entire proper, predictable, well planned out life. I had been forced to deal with all my girlish ideas about sex, my notions about "love making"; I had been fucked by a man I didn't love. In fact, I didn't even like Derek, but I now knew that I loved to get fucked, and I was now officially a whore. If it hadn't been for the fact that I loathed Derek as a human being, and for the fact that he had brought our "intimate" experience to a close in such a traumatically degrading and humiliating way, I have to admit that I might have toyed with the idea of an affair. I had even thought about calling him up when things got slow at the office, but I was either far too proud or fearful of rejection to follow through. I knew I would never go through with it of my own free will. And there it is again, that catch phrase that keeps bubbling up from my subconscious mind, tormenting me as it collides with my very strictly ordered conscious mind; "Of my own free will". It's that tiny thought that makes it so tortuously difficult to keep my fingertips from finding their desperate way into my panties on those nights I wake up next to the hubby in a state of arousal so severe that I can't keep my hands off my nipples and clit. My heart pounds in my throat as I tune out his smell and sound enough to bring some relief to my throbbing, inflamed pussy. It's so very hard to stay quiet. "Of my own free will" "What if I was held down? Restrained? Gagged? I couldn't do anything about it, my assailant (or assailants) would have control over me." "The things they'd do to me wouldn't be my fault. Anything I might feel wouldn't be my fault." I dealt with the knowledge that I could conceivably exercise my free will over the control of my fingertips on my clitoris and stop masturbating in the same way I usually dealt with all other truths about my sexual needs; I buried it and got busy with the day to day things of life. When my cycle comes around, the time at which my pre-menopausal ovaries are launching those last desperate eggs, the feelings of sexual desire become so intense that my body becomes my own enemy. The smell of my own pussy makes me horny. Frenzied lust grips and controls my entire being, to the point that fingertips are not enough. I can't help but think about Derek and his massive penis when it gets to that point. I have tried everything in the vegetable realm to achieve that delirious feeling of being stuffed to capacity and maybe just a little beyond. Bananas, cucumbers, zucchini's of graduating length and girth, they get the job done to a small degree, but it almost seems to make things worse. It always ends with an orgasm, but the total experience is always a slight let down. Too, I always feel so self conscious shopping for cucumbers. It probably wouldn't be so bad if I weren't digging through the pile looking for a nice big one with a head on it. Something is always lacking when I'm the one in control of the large object I'm impaling myself with. My mind races through a dozen scenarios while I jerk off. I used to make a pathetic attempt to filter my fantasies through my matrix of scruples, but that didn't ever hold up long. Scenes flash across the flickering screen of Diane's inner theater as I search for an image that can bring my hot, sweaty libido and my writhing, tortured body to that unique union which results in blissful release. The "Damsel in distress" theme usually wins the day and gets me off. It had started with images from movies that I had tried to turn my eyes from, movies I had verbally declared "inappropriate" to my husband as he watched with me in the darkness. I would tell him that had I known there was something like this in the film, I never would have let him rent it. Then I silently keep hoping for more. My mind flashed through scenes of blouses ripped open, wrists grasped brutally and wrenched behind slender backs, faces slapped, buttocks spanked, pretty movie stars tied and roughly bound to every type of furniture, fixture, and apparatus. The loud, wet slapping sounds of a woman being taken forcefully from behind. We never miss an episode of "Game of Throne's". I have to remind my husband to turn the volume down so that it won't wake the kids. You'd think that would make him hard. The lascivious, dark-wet sounds of sucking, the gagging sound of a girl on her knees before a powerful man, forced there by coercion, blackmail or the sheer brute force of masculine hands on her shoulders, big powerful hands grasping the soft hair at the crown of her head, the grimacing face, the animal grunting as he takes his pleasure by emptying his bloated glands into her unwilling mouth. In Diane's theater of the mind the hero of the show is always the antagonist. A hard, brutal unscrupulous anti-hero who gives the heroine what she wants by taking everything she has. I've had to come to grips with the discovery that I'm turned on by the thought of submitting to degrading treatment. Who knew? Eventually, my fantasies always revolve back around to the semi-darkness of an office store room. But now my own hands are tied to the top shelf of that sturdy rack made of two-by-four lumber and plywood. Somewhere in the mêlée of images and feelings, the large, rough fingertips are manhandling my breasts and nipples, spanking my buttocks, I feel the splintery texture of the wood grain against my wrists, the huge cock forcing it's way up into me, stretching me open from the center of my being with each penetrating thrust, a hard male abdomen slapping against my soft buttocks and pounding my delicate pink crotch to a state of fiery hot redness, somewhere in this ugly mess of hot, wet, dirty fever, my body takes over and I spasm, quake, and collapse into a quivering pile against what ever solid object is close by, as my little mental freefall comes to a grinding, shuddering collision with my day to day reality. After a few blissful moments of silent, breathless oblivion, I wipe my drooling vulva with tissue, pull up my panties and go about my well timed routine, putting the whole thing out of my mind until the next time the hormones rage and my body decides take control. This quite often takes place in my office toilet, shortly after I close up at the end of the day. Anyway, I was coping. Things seemed to be getting better, at least somewhat normal. Then a couple of weeks ago, everything changed --------(o)--------- One particular morning last month, I found myself away from these thoughts. I felt lucky to have a packed schedule, incoming calls, people to deal with and papers to deal with. The phone rang yet again, and a delighted smile crossed my lips when I looked down at the caller I.D. and saw the name of my good-looking friend Kenneth displayed. I let it ring a couple of times, smiling inwardly at the thought of Ken on the other end stewing. I knew that in a few moments I would be downplaying his subtle flirting, parrying his charming advances in the little verbal fencing match that had been going on between us for years now. It was a game of letting him know I was unavailable, yet still keeping him guessing enough to keep him hanging on the line. I knew it was wrong to play with him like this; I was clear in my conviction that I was not leaving my family for another man, but on the other hand, it was always nice to know a sweet, good looking man was interested in me. It was also nice to get the upper hand by not acting overly anxious to pick up. I played my phone game with him, and the call ended with an agreement to meet at a restaurant later that day for our once a month lunch date. I actually felt a little cheery for a change as I got back to work. I caught myself talking to myself quietly in the little sing-song voice I used sometimes when I was alone at the office. "Looks like I'll have time for lunch, then with luck, this list will be all checked off. Maybe I can even close the office early and catch up on those invoices!" The phone rang again, a number I hadn't seen before, caller ID blocked. I picked up quickly. After I gave my perfunctory office phone greeting, a strange yet somehow familiar male voice answered my "How may I help you?". "Hello Diane, this is Mr. Falco" Ray Falco was VP of the company and regional executive in charge. I gasped slightly and unconsciously hung on the line, lost for words. "Diane? It's Mr. Falco? Vice president of your company?" The voice was familiar from videos at the company website. He sounded a little miffed that I seemed unfamiliar with his name. I broke from my state of shock. "Of course...Mr. Falco, how nice to speak with you! I am so sorry I was at a loss for words, one doesn't get a call like this every day! How are you today?" "I'm fine, just fine thank you! Say Diane, I'm in the neighborhood and I wanted to stop by and visit your office. I have some exciting news I'd like to share with you personally." I knew that he wasn't asking if it was "ok" to stop by. I collected my wits and answered cheerily, "Certainly sir! I would love to see you." "Good, very good Diane, I should be there within 15 minutes." I wrapped up the call with all courtesies extended, and panic struck. I began running around the office tidying up in a disconnected fashion, mostly picking things up and putting them back where they already were. I was still talking to myself, but I could hear the panic in my own little voice. "What is he coming here for? What is this "Exciting News" he has to deliver personally? I ran to the restroom for a quick grooming check, giving myself the usual brutal critique in the mirror, primping my hair and making a poor last minute choice to touch-up my makeup. Not a good decision, as it turned out. I don't normally wear much makeup and in my nervous state I had gone slightly over-board with eye shadow, lipstick and rouge. As I stood back and checked the mirror I thought "Nice job Diane, you now look a little like a prostitute, with no time to wash off and re-do." I had been panicky, now I was a nervous wreck. At least I had worn a pretty outfit today. I looked at myself from the neck down and admired the combination of a knee length skirt, crisp button down blouse and light sweater. It was very feminine and comfortable, tastefully highlighting my modest assets. I wore my usual black framed glasses. "Great", I thought, "I look like a librarian ready to do a little moonlighting as cheap hooker on her lunch break!" Mr. Falco was going to be there any second, and It would have to do. True enough, I heard the office door open a second later and rushed out of the toilet to meet the big boss. Ray Falco was a tall man, just about a head above my height, and powerfully built. He looked like he could be a retired prize fighter with his broken roman nose and blocky cleft chin. He was impeccably dressed, with shiny shoes, a gold Rolex on his wrist and a sapphire ring on his pinky. His custom tailored suit did a nice job of hiding his middle age paunch. "Diane, so nice to see you!" he smiled and looked me directly in the eyes as he extended his hand. "I've been looking forward to visiting you and your outstanding little office for some time, but it's hard to get away from town." "Before I share the good news, I'm going to need the restroom, then I'd like a quick tour of your facility!" I showed him to the convenience and he excused himself to take care of his business. I had to try to tune out the barnyard sound of the big man splashing down for what seemed like ten straight minutes. I busied myself at my desk until he emerged, then stood up perfunctorily and went about showing him all the assets of my humble office building. I started with the break/conference room. Thank God I had done the dishes! I actually do a stellar job of keeping things tidy, which I was very happy about today. I showed him the adjoining warehouse and then circled back to my office, concluding the tour. Mr. Falco pointed to the storeroom door asking "What's in there?" I felt a quick shot of nervous adrenaline "Wh-Why, that's just a..um, storeroom." "Oh, well let's take a look!" Falco motioned me to go first. I hadn't gone in there much anymore since the 'incident', and I led the way with slight trepidation. I flipped the light on and walked in. Space was tight so I had to go all the way in to allow room for him to enter. I ended up standing in the halo of the harsh overhead light on the exact spot where Derek had so thoroughly debased and degraded me. "As you can see Sir, it's pretty Spartan, no frills, just sturdy storage racks." Mr. Falco was looking around, "Well, I do appreciate a well built rack." When his eyes came back to me, they stayed parked at chest level. His pleasant smile faded. I had grown increasingly uncomfortable from the moment I had stepped in here, and my discomfort was now at the point of involuntarily visible agitation. The space was closing in around me and my only exit was blocked by a large man who made no attempts to conceal the fact that he was eyeing my boobs. My eyes fell to the floor and for the first time I noticed a spattering of light stains on the dark carpet at my feet. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could not seem to slow my breathing. My voice suddenly kicked cheerily into gear. "Well, that concludes our tour!" My attempt at a cheery smile must have been pathetic, but I made it anyway. Mr. Falco snapped out of it and the smile returned to his face, "Very well Diane! I can see you do an excellent job of representing us out here, the place is immaculate." The relief I felt as I followed him out was compounded by the fact that he hadn't asked about the stains on the carpet. I took a deep breath and could feel my heart rate slow down slightly as we walked back into the office. Mr. Falco walked over to my desk, "Do you mind if I use your phone Diane?" "It's yours sir!" Well, it was, literally. He made a quick call and asked the receiver to take all my calls for the next hour or two. He then wrote a number down and handed it to me. "If you would please, forward your phone to this number. It's my secretary, and she'll handle your calls while we have our meeting. Oh, and hang your 'Out to lunch' sign on the door and lock up." I promptly did as ordered. I noticed Falco pulling a couple of side chairs together, facing one another in front of my desk. He motioned me to one of the chairs and I seated myself. He sat opposite and began. "I'm sure you're wondering about the good news I spoke of, so I'll cut right to it: I'm personally giving you a very healthy raise and a generous bonus." I'm sure my face must have betrayed my happiness. My raises had been steady but slow and small, barely keeping up with the cost of living. "When Derek was here last summer, I had him develop a report on the business you do here in Stonybrooke, and it turned out extremely favorable. Diane, all the numbers point to you as the responsible party." "I am appointing a top sales rep to take responsibility for your area and he will answer directly to you. He will only be checking in here on a weekly basis, so you'll still have the office to yourself. Sound good?" It sounded great! Not only had I got a raise, I still had relative autonomy and wouldn't have to get used to a new office-mate. I really didn't want that since my experience with the last one. I nodded my approval enthusiastically, Yes Mr. Falco indeed it does!" He seemed so sincere and wise, so fatherly. I was genuinely touched, my eyes beginning to brim. I placed both of my hands in his as I looked up into his eyes and asked him, "How can I ever thank you for this? He responded with a measured slowness, the wheels turning in his head. That should have been a clue about all that was to come, but I took him at face value, like a child. "Well Diane, I'm glad you asked. There are of course, some expectations that go along with this raise." I sat up and listened earnestly. The Fixer Ch. 02 "First and foremost, I want you to know that Derek is fully responsible for my decision. If he hadn't brought you to my attention I would have given he and the other sales staff credit for the great business out here." I was taken aback. I guess Derek wasn't such a self centered jerk after all, and apparently, he did think about me from time to time. "Well I will thank him the very next chance I get." Falco smiled. "Well, you'll have that chance very soon," he cocked the gold Rolex, "Derek should be here any minute." I was so very conflicted internally at this point, I didn't know how to react, what to say. Fortunately Mr. Falco picked up the conversation. "As I mentioned briefly, there are some expectations that go along with the raise, and one of them is that you undergo training. Are you OK with that Diane?" "Oh definitely sir, I have been chomping at the bit for a chance to improve and grow." "Well very good. You'll be pleased to know I have placed your friend Derek in charge of your training!" -----(O)----- As if on queue, I heard the front door being keyed and unlocked. The door swung open and the last person I had hoped to see walked through it. His long, lanky form sloped into the room with ease in his nicely draped suit, briefcase in hand. I must have looked like a ghost. Mr. Falco seemed overjoyed, like he was greeting his long lost son, "Hey!! There he is! The Fixer!" Derek laid his case on my desk and turned to wrap his long, thick fingers around Falco's big ham hand and pump his arm, followed by the quick "guy hug" with a mutual back slap. He turned immediately to me, spinning on his heels and coming at me like a freight train. "Diane honey, how are you!? It's been way too long!" Derek's voice made it sound like we were the best of old office mates, violently separated by some tragic circumstance. "Wow baby, I see you decided to start wearing a little more makeup, good call, looks sexy as hell!" He didn't miss a beat, throwing his arms around me and pulling me against him like a rag doll, mashing my breasts into his chest as he kissed my cheek. It was completely uncomfortable, and I tried to put up a good appearance for Mr. Falco by not struggling too much. I reached my hands under his arms and patted his back awkwardly. I was already thinking about the last time I had seen Derek, and my discomfort was growing heavier by the second. As if he'd read my mind he broke the hug, grabbed me by the shoulders and held me up at arms length, as if he were inspecting me, my tip toes against the floor. "Wow, seems like just yesterday Diane, and you look even better than the last time I saw you!" He gave me a big wink. "Have you been working out? He smiled knowingly at me, "Drinking those protein shakes?" He gave me another exaggerated wink. I turned my head aside from his leering gaze. He was making this clear enough. His comments could be interpreted plainly as: The last time I saw you, you were down on your knees in front of me with my rank smelling semen dripping from you hair. I was rutting my big penis between your lovely tits, shooting my ripe, pungent sperm up your nose and all over your pretty face and shoulders... I gasped suddenly and stiffened. I had been taken back to that moment and had been caught in time. It was as though I had been in a spell for the past few seconds. How long had I been out? For a panic stricken second, I felt the room spin and I thought I might have to throw up, I struggled for breath. I could hear Derek's voice, seemingly small and far away, now coming back into focus as he held me by my shoulders and spun me around to face Mr. Falco, laughing. "What did I tell you about that sexy librarian thing boss, huh? I sucked my breath in all at once, coming back around. I realized I had no control whatsoever. No control over this situation, over my life or my body. I was sure now that Derek had told Falco about the storeroom, he had to have told him. That's why Falco had me show him in there. I felt so completely small, helpless and objectified. Derek's huge hands gripped me by my thin shoulders and showed me off to this powerful executive, who nodded his smiling approval. I saw Mr. Falco's gaze fall from my face to my chest, watched his jaw go slack and his eyes glaze over with lust as they zeroed in on my breasts. All the above feelings and emotions compounded and collided; small, helpless, objectified and frightened, bringing my tortured mind to the point of madness. Suddenly, I was horrified to find myself in an extreme state of heightened sexual arousal. Derek spun me back around, and with his body blocking me from Falco's view, he slipped his right hand down from my shoulder and firmly grasped my left breast, squeezing it and giving it a couple of quick shakes. He responded to my wide eyed astonishment with a quick wink as he turned to open his briefcase. I was to slow in my attempt to brush his hand away and now stood before Mr. Falco with my hand on my tit. I hated myself for it, but the sudden shock caused a flare-up to rush through my body. My face and chest flushed as hot as fire and a sudden spasm in my womb caused an uncontrollable gush, soiling my panties. I instinctively squeezed my legs together to keep it from running down my legs, which only made things worse. I could feel my swollen labia protruding, slick with nectar, and the feel of my wet sex squirming between my thighs was making me deliciously hot all over. I couldn't stop rubbing my thighs together. I dropped my hand down quickly as Mr. Falco gave a slight startled head shake. My face must have been nine shades of crimson. "Ahem, um Diane, if I could please have your attention, Derek has a brief training video for us to watch, then we'll have a short session working on the concepts presented." I found my way uneasily to my seat and crossed my legs, unintentionally squeezing my swollen, slippery lady parts together once again. I didn't want to cross and uncross my legs while seated opposite Falco, but I also realized just then that I was enjoying my own little secret stimulation too much to make it stop. I felt so agitated, needing to scratch the itch so badly I was actually rubbing my crossed legs together as imperceptibly as I could. I had to ask myself; how far had I descended into the labyrinth? I would soon find out. ------(O)------ Derek removed a widescreen laptop from his case and opened it on the top of my desk, fiddled with the touchpad and opened a video. He adjusted it to fullscreen, pressed play and walked around to stand behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I jumped in my seat at his unexpected touch, but the warmth of his big hands transferred quickly into my tense, nerve wracked shoulders and I found myself strangely welcoming it. I was reminded of the way Derek and I had actually laughed and enjoyed each others company in the moments before I called him into the storeroom for help. Just as the screen on my desk flickered to life, it flashed into my mind how in reality, I had set up the storeroom situation, teasing Derek by bending over in front of him, pushing the heavy box up to the highest shelf, knowing I would need his help, that he would have to get close to me... The laptop blared with typical annoying training video background muzak, and the title and credits rolled by. "Techniques for Increasing Sales Volume". A man in a suit started speaking instructor-speak, then suddenly, it was if someone had changed the channel. The screen darkened quite a bit and I strained forward to see what was going on. I didn't know what I was looking at, it just looked like a bad home video of empty space. I figured it to be technical difficulties. Then I heard my own voice. "L-look, I'm...I'm not very good at...at blowjobs, and I don't...I just..." "Alright, fine I'll do it." Then I saw my face descend onto the screen, coming down face to face with Derek's long, curved cock. I saw him put my hand around his thick cock, his hand around my wrist instructing me how to stroke him. I was mesmerized by the image, and suddenly realized what I was sitting there open mouthed watching. When the onscreen Diane reluctantly began gingerly licking the head of Derek's cock, my senses exploded and I went into flight mode. Dereks grip became like iron on my shoulders clamping me down to my chair as my legs came uncrossed and I struggled against him. In my thrashing about I glimpsed Falco grinning at me. Derek grabbed me by the hair at the nape of my neck and I suddenly felt the urge to become docile in his grip. He craned my head roughly around to the screen, in time to watch myself stroking his balls, licking and sucking his knob as I stroked his massive dick. I couldn't believe the images, bringing back to life the very things I had visualized while diddling myself sore for the past couple of months. It was obvious that Derek had edited it down to his favorite "Storeroom Highlights", my sluttiest acts caught on film. "Stick your tongue out as far as you can" I watched slut Diane's head pulled back by her hair, the way my hair was being gripped just now, Derek beating his knob against my outstretched tongue, rubbing his slimy cockhead across my face. My head began to spin, and I rose to my feet in a panic, ready to run. Derek relaxed his grip on me for a second, and I bolted. I looked around for the exit and started to launch myself towards it, to run as fast as I could from the Kafkaesque madhouse my life had suddenly become. I made just one step towards freedom when I felt the strong male grip on one arm, then the other. "Diane", I heard Derek's deep quiet voice right next to my ear, "Surely you don't want to leave right when your first training session is about to begin?" The evil humor in Derek's voice almost made me give up then and there, but his tightening grip on my elbows behind my back caused me to renew my struggling against his grasp. He worked his strong right arm around my elbows and squeezed them both together between his flexed bicep and forearm. His left hand found a large hank of my hair, right at the back of my neck. He flexed and locked my arms and yanked my head back by the hair at the same time as he spun me around to face Mr. Falco. "Derek is right Diane, if we let you run off now, we'd all regret it, especially you." "When Derek told me his little story about the way you responded to his rough treatment, I thought he was making the whole thing up." His eye penetrated me. "But I was just going by the little I knew of you, outward appearance, professional behavior and the like." Falco's evil smile deepened, "But when I saw your performance in his little cinematic masterpiece, I knew we had to break you and train you, for your own good as well as for our pleasure." I couldn't do or say anything, just hung my head and whimpered. "You're right to feel afraid my delicate little bird, we do mean to break you. You have some pain coming your way." He rose from his chair to tower over me. I glanced sideways at the image on screen, Derek's hands on my head, fucking my mouth with the big, blunt head of his cock, "Good girl, mmmm"... Falco's big sausage fingers began delicately unbuttoning my sweater, then my blouse as he spoke calmly and deliberately, with an amazing power in his voice. I heard the voice of storeroom Diane coming from the laptop, "Yes, yes, put it all the way in, pleeease Sir!" "You are going to feel the lash against your soft white skin." He continued smiling that calm, Cheshire cat smile as he described my ensuing predicament. "And you are going to feel all of your sex holes stretched, painfully so. My sexual apparatus is large, and you already know about Derek's" Onscreen Diane was growing more insistent than I had remembered, "Please sir, please put your big cock all the way inside me and fuck me with it." I glanced over to see Derek rear back and ram it home as I howled like an animal. Falco's fingers undid the last button, and he pulled open my blouse and sweater, pushing them back down my shoulders and exposing the cups of my bra, my soft breasts quaking inside like frightened doves. He reached over and paused the laptop. "No more distractions, your training begins." Being restrained and undressed was utterly mind blowing, but my experience just continued to get more intense by the second. Falco calmly reached down and picked up heavy steel shears from the tray on my desk. My panic level rose to a frenzy as I struggled and almost swooned in Derek's grasp. I became rigid with fear as I felt the cold steel against the skin of my stomach. As he slid the blades upward I could hear steady, rhythmic whimpering of a woman who sounded like she was being pushed to the edge of a cliff. It increased to open mouthed gasping cries as the shrill metallic sound of the blades opening filled the quiet room. As the lower blade slid under the elastic band of my bra and continued upward into my cleavage I almost swooned in panic. The unthinkable feel of the sharp, cold steel between the tender flesh of my soft white tits kept me utterly motionless. The shirring sound of the blades as they clove my bra in two almost caused my knees to buckle. Falco gifted me with the feel of the scissor points raking against my skin all the way down my abdomen as he withdrew them. He deftly snipped the shoulder straps as well, then pulled my ruined bra from me and threw it on my desk, laying the scissors down beside. I sucked in huge lungfuls of air and exhaled deeply, dropping into a swoon. I was held up only by Derek's strong grip on my arms and hair. Falco turned and reached for my breasts. As he brought his hands up, I was preparing for the pain he had just promised. I closed my eyes tightly and tensed for the blow. I braced myself for slapping, mauling, hard pinching, abuse. The certain expectation of pain made the otherworldly sensations that followed incredibly intense and profound. Falco tickled the very tips of my nipples with the tips of his fingers and thumbs. The brief, well timed, perfectly spaced tweaks caused electric jolts of sensation to shoot back into my body from the sensitive tips of my breasts. It caused my mouth to fall open and gasp in wonder. "Very pretty breasts Diane, 34C?" I nervously nodded affirmation. He alternately raked his perfectly manicured nails gently up the delicate underside of my tits, tickling the tips of my nipples, circling my aureoles, pinching lightly and pulling, letting the elastic flesh bounce back then pulling his hands away at just the right moment. I could hear myself whimpering when he withdrew his hands, falling into his teasing game like a stupid little puppy. He was good. My nipples are extremely sensitive, but continued play just seems to numb the sensation as they harden. This sparing, deliberate, patiently timed teasing was setting my nipples on fire, and the fire was catching fast throughout my body. I wished impossibly that my husband had somehow got a clue before it was too late, then I let him slip quickly from my mind. Falco spoke as rhythmically as a hypnotist; "Do you want to be trained in this manner Diane?" I heard my "yes" leave my lips before I was even conscious of making the decision. "Will you submit to my training? Do the things I order you to do?" I was now so deliriously horny I could not even conceive of saying no. I would have done or said anything to get these dirty, powerful men to put out the fire that was burning me up. "Yes" "Diane, you need to address me as 'Sir' from now on" "Yes Sir" "Understand this Diane: Your primary objective will be to please me in any way I order you to, is that clear?" The words stuck in my throat a little as I thought this over. It seemed like a pretty big commitment. Suddenly I my nipples felt as though they had been administered an electric shock. Falco had clamped down on them with his thumbs and forefingers and was pulling them roughly in opposite directions. The calm tone of his voice did not change, "You need to answer me without hesitation if this is going to work Diane." "Y-Yes, yes Sir" I stammered. I wasn't even conscious of Derek's hand letting go of my hair until I felt it's intrusion under my skirt. He was probing my crotch through my sodden panties and pantyhose. Derek shouted with the glee of an incestuous second cousin getting his first stink finger out behind the barn "Oh my God boss, you would not believe how wet she is!" He laughed out loud, "Diane! Did you pee your panties?" My face flushed crimson hot. The combination of Derek's long fingers massaging my pudenda and Mr. Falco's hard grip on my nipples was was sending me towards the edge very rapidly. Falco let go of my left nipple and rapidly slapped my breast with a sharp upstroke. As he let go his grasp on my nipples, and the blood rushed back to swell them painfully, causing me to gasp. He gently cupped and stroked my tits, circling my aureoles with his thumbs. It was unlike anything I had ever felt. "Do you want me to give you an orgasm Diane?" I answered quickly, "Yes Sir, very much, please Sir." "Good girl. Understand that you will only be allowed an orgasm when I order it, and you need to ask permission first." "Yes Sir. May I please have an orgasm Sir?" He smiled and slid his hands across my skin, wrapping them both around my slender neck. "What do you think Derek? Should we reward Diane? She's been a very good girl so far." Derek said nothing but let go his grip on my arms, leaving me to stand on wobbly legs. He then deftly gripped the waist band of my panties and tights and yanked them down roughly. I was now held by Falco's hands around my throat, and I quickly found my feet as my arms dangled uselessly. Derek's large fingers were now working that magic on my pudenda, stroking, pulling, inserting slightly. I never got it out of my mind, the way he had played me like a violin in the storeroom. Derek really knew how to play with a pussy. I moaned like a cow. Now that I think of it, if you're a simple slut, Derek is the perfect man for you. He has a nice hard body, a big penis, and he knows how to gage a woman's responses and manipulate her body. I found myself now hoping he would go down on me the way he had before. Mr. Falco interrupted my daydream. "Get your idle fingers busy Diane, I want to see you play with your nipples while you cum." I hesitated, resulting in two sharp slaps to the underside of the same left breast. My hands got busy, and gingerly I began to masturbate my nipples as Falco's hand returned to my throat. He now placed a slight pressure there, increasing but not quite choking me. Derek plunged a couple of fingers into my vagina, and he brought his other hand around front and teased it up under my skirt, brushing across the skin around my hairy venus mound. Falco spoke, "Diane, I want you to play with your nipples like you normally do when you masturbate. In fact, put on a little more of a show than you normally do for your own pleasure." "Yes Sir" Two of Dereks fingers together were easily as big as my husbands penis, and he was fucking me with them. He inserted a third finger and started fucking me in earnest as the hand reaching around front began stroking my mound, grasping and pulling at my sheathed clitoris. As ordered, I was diddling my nipples with a great deal of decorum for Falco's benefit. I opened my eyes and saw him staring at what I was doing, entranced. I had never masturbated in front of a man before, even my husband. The sudden invasion of that intimate privacy pushed me over the edge and set me off to the races. The Fixer Ch. 02 I felt like such a sexy little beast watching the affect it was having on Falco, his shark eyes glazing over, hypnotized. "May I please cum now sir?" His eyes rose to meet mine, and I frowned like a spoiled little girl and made the most pathetic puppy eyes I could conjure. Had he said no, I don't think I could have stopped myself. Fortunately, he nodded his consent and continued to watch my face as I descended into the vortex. As the dam broke I grasped my nipples hard. Falco's grip tightened substantially around my throat and my head started to spin as the circulation was restricted. Derek was hand fucking me at full throttle, the obscenely wet sound assaulting my ears as I felt all my energy explode through my sex. As I came, he shoved his thumb into my rectum. I was so out of control I allowed my weight to fall back against Derek's hand. He drove his thumb hard up my ass as I bucked and humped against him, milking every bit of pleasure from his fingers. I let myself fall into the grasp of the two strong men and my body hung in suspension, quaking spasmodically as the orgasm tore its way through me. I heard a woman screaming in blissful ecstasy somewhere far away and the sound began to fade rapidly. I almost blacked out.