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Unwilling but Able Ch. 01

By: aussie_101



Have you ever found yourself in a situation, where on the one hand: you hate what you're doing, you hate yourself for doing it, you hate that you have to do it and you hate that you were unable to do the right thing, to swallow your medicine, to take the punishment you deserve and resist the temptation to evade it by the most shameful means... but on the other hand, you love what you're doing, you love the forbidden thrill, the wickedly illicit pleasure of it, and you want more of it, more, ever so much more...

That's exactly how I felt, split and torn asunder by both guilt and lust, as I fucked my boss, fucked her long and hard, fed my gorging cock in and out of her incredibly, astonishingly slick tight cunt -- ostensibly, doing it only to keep my job, to keep from being fired for a fairly serious misdeed but also, doing it also because I wanted it... needed it... didn't really need an excuse to do it...

Let's set the scene. I'm, interning at a big city firm, freshly graduated after five long hard years at university. I'm married to a lovely lady: she's the bread-winner, we're the same age but she graduated a couple years before me with a degree in Commerce, and now she's got a big-ticket job with an investment group and she brings in the big bucks. She supported us through my last hectic years of Uni, and as a reward for our hard work she bought us a really big house; of course, then the arse fell out of the markets and her commissions died out, and we're struggling to make ends meet on a home that's worth less than the amount we owe on it. Life has been stressful, putting us in a position where we need to work to avoid losing everything.

So what do I do? I jeopardise my employment. 

I'm clever like that. I have a knack for getting myself in trouble, for doing what I know I shouldn't do and getting caught at the worst, most excruciatingly inopportune moment.

See, while I love my wife and everything, I wanted more. I'm into erotica, and pornography, and she's not -- most vociferously not. So I get my kicks when she's not around, often at work when I'm alone; my research duties can keep me back for long hours, and when they don't, I usually stay back anyway to "indulge" myself, locked in front of an ancient computer in a dark little cubicle at the end of a dim and dusty hall in the archival basement of our building, where people rarely venture and I'm free to read erotic tales, view pictures of naked ladies, and masturbate away to my heart's content.

I had been doing this for months, carefully at first, paranoid as hell: changing my screen and putting my cock away at the slightest sound from outside my dank little hidey-hole. But days would pass, nothing would happen, I would go entire evenings without even hearing anyone much less seeing anyone, and I grew bolder. I would spend extended sessions with my pants round my ankles and my cock in my hand; I would take pictures of myself, and share them with my circle of like-minded friends from Literotica; I even grew bold enough to obtain a webcam, and share online masturbation sessions with people from all the world over.

Time went past, and my fear of getting busted dwindled. Nobody knew I was there. Nobody knew what I was up to. Every computer throughout the firm had stern log-in warnings of terminated employment should I use the equipment for exactly these purposes, but the weeks kept passing and no retribution came. I assumed the long lectures that "IT is watching you, we keep a record of every website you visit and we do check it...", I took them to be empty warnings and I webcammed, downloaded and posted material of the most highly pornographic nature, at will and without fear.

Late one night, it was approaching midnight on a Friday, and I knew I would be safe. The firm always emptied on Friday night. It was "drinks night"; anybody and everybody would be at the bar across the street, celebrating big cases won and hard work done. Everybody except me: I had the webcam on, a very good lady friend from Literotica was on the other end of the connection, typing sexy things to inspire me as I stood naked, utterly naked, with a long pulsating erection and my hands all over it, the webcam rolling as I pulled and pounded and thrashed my orgasm to the brink, building and building and building...

...and then the door behind me whipped open.

My heart stopped. It literally seized for a moment, as the reality began to sink in; painfully aware that I was naked, that my cock was exposed, as exposed as can be, I couldn't help but turn to face the intruder...

...to find it was my section boss, a senior and very stern lawyer by the name of Valerie Turnbull. She was an emasculating, overbearing, ball-busting case winner who demanded of us interns the quickest retrieval of the most obscure legal trivia from the archives, and she'd tear bloody strips off us for every hour we dared to keep her waiting. 'No-Vadge Valerie' we called her, along with 'turn-Bulldyke', 'Valkyrie Valerie', 'Val the Impaler'; she was a man-hating man-eating bitch on ice, she knew we all thought it, and she was ruthless in using her reputation to get ahead and beat down everyone around her.

And now, with her eyes wide open in shock and surprise, No-Vadge Valerie was staring right at my cock. Staring right at the twitching, throbbing head, where a single drop of pre-come dangled precariously, before it dripped helplessly to the floor.

I awaited my doom, struck dumb with fear, and the seconds ticked past. Presently, Valerie started breathing again, and her eyes crawled away from my cock and up my body, taking in my toned abs and broad hairy chest and strong shoulders... and as she found my eyes, her own eyes narrowed.

"I might have known," she sneered.

I didn't say anything. What would anyone say, in that position? 'Take a seat, No-Vadge -- I'll be with you in a minute'? Oh, if only I'd said that... hell, I was in trouble anyway, why not have a laugh as my world crashed down around me? 

But I said nothing, as my heart pounded double-time to compensate for its earlier pause, and I waited helplessly with my cock staring at the ceiling as she composed her thoughts...

"I might have known," she said again. "I'd got the email from IT just this morning: congratulations, Jeremy. It appears you are the most prolific abuser of the firm's anti-porn IT policies we have ever had the misfortune of employing."

'Oh dear,' I thought. Seemed as though they were keeping tabs on my internet usage after all...

"Six hours a day," she read out, from a piece of paper in her hand. "An average of six hours a day, visiting illicit websites. Downloading illicit material. Uploading illicit material. Good heavens, boy -- is that a webcam?" she frowned incredulously, spotting the computer behind me.

I chose not to answer, invoking the classic right-to-silence act.

"So even as I was on my way down here, to FIRE you," she crowed, most spitefully, "you were filming yourself with your cock in your hand, putting on a live show? Using the firm's resources, to aid and abet your icky little perversion??"

I stood silent; all the while, though I'd thought it would shrivel good and quick, my cock had in fact stayed long and firm and hard, pointing up at me almost accusingly: 'it was him!' I could almost hear it cry. 'He done it! Kill him, spare me! I'm just the cock, not the brains!'

"Jeremy: I was looking forward to firing you," she sneered, the utmost definition of vindictive. "I was really, really looking forward to firing you. I've had the shittiest week. I lost a major case; two juicy new cases were passed over me to some useless male bastard in a contemptible continuance of your fucking male oligarchy; I've got my period," she added, extra-spitefully, as though she sought to wound me with the information, "and everything and everyone has been shitting me like nothing else. And then I get this email, and I think: 'Jeremy, you slimy little perv, I'm gunna fire you so hard you'll wish you'd never been born,'" she said, almost spitting it at me, such was the power of her venom.

"But then..." she went on, and her eyes fell straight to my cock: still gorging, in fact a little bigger than its norm, as though it sought to get me ever further into trouble. "Then I saw that big, fat, enormous cock of yours..."

And though I scarcely believed my own eyes, I realised her hand was on her crotch. Not in her pants -- boyish suit pants, she was one of those 'don't think me a lady' ladies and never would she ever wear a skirt -- but definitely, unmistakably, she was rubbing herself through her pants, her fingers had landed right on her spot; and as my eyes flicked back to her face, I still could scarcely believe to see that she was biting her lip, looking wistful, wanton: more feminine than I had ever seen 'No-Vadge Valerie' ever look, as she stared at my cock and drank it in.

She realised I had nothing to say to that, such was the depth and breadth of my shock, so she spoke onwards: "I think your friend, on the other end of that webcam, would appreciate if you finished the show," she told me, with a heated huskiness in her voice that nearly knocked me off my feet. "And I think... I think I would appreciate that too."

'Whaaaaat??' cried my inner voice. I could scarcely believe it: No-Vadge Valerie, instead of firing me... wanted me to pound out an orgasm? To wank myself, as she watched?

To my credit -- or at least, what little remaining credit I may be due -- upon finally finding my voice, the first words to leave my lips was: "But... Ms Turnbull: I'm married..."

She smirked at that, most unkindly. "Shoulda thought of that before you racked up seven hundred hours of internet-porn on company time," she pointed out. "Now you have a choice: do exactly as I say and exactly what I want, or I will fire you, and I will also level all manner of sexual harassment claims against you."

She managed to make the decision easy for me: my hand fell almost automatically to my cock, striking up a good rhythm in no time.

"Good boy..." she purred, and her lips curled back to bare her teeth with malicious pleasure. "That's the way..."

And so began the most incredible show of my life. I stood before her, utterly naked; I set myself back slightly on my feet, thrusting my pelvis out provocatively as I wanked, and wanked, and wanked. She soon ordered me to move slightly, setting my position just so, in a fashion I at first didn't understand... until I realised, she was positioning me for the benefit of the camera. She made me stand at a distance and an angle such that the camera could see me, could see my hand flicking up and down on my own cock -- and also, making sure that I stood so the camera could see her too. So that my friend on the other end of the line could see, that I had been busted, and I was being made to do what my boss wanted me to do.

And as she watched me -- as she watched me thrust my cock out at her, my balls tucked high and tight and smooth, my cock almost bursting out of itself with the incredible forbidden pleasure of it all -- she put on a show for me too.

At first she touched herself again, through her pants, not letting me see anything near as much of her as she saw of me: making sure I knew who was in control here, who was playing for whose viewing pleasure. But as time passed, as my orgasm built and built but wouldn't spill, her own pleasure grew; as though she couldn't quite help herself, she had to have more, and she loosened her pants to slip her hand in, to touch herself more freely, more intimately.

As she did so, I took her in, and realised to my surprise that she was actually a rather attractive woman. She had always dressed harshly and severely, with no form or fit to her clothes, advertising nothing; but as she unbuttoned her jacket so as to run a hand up her side and occasionally across her breasts, I saw she was actually fairly slim and trim in figure, with a pair of breasts nicely sized and nicely proportioned. With her permanent scowl she had always looked old, mid-to-late forties, but with her features softening as she gradually gave herself to her own mounting pleasure I realised she was much younger than we had all assumed: early thirties, I would guess, not really that much older than myself, and passably pretty. Far more feminine than I had ever thought her.

But though she was letting some of her private, personal self show, though she was giving of herself far more than anyone had ever had cause to suspect, in terms of femininity, of sexuality, of the sort of fire and passion we had never thought 'No-Vadge Valerie' capable: she still held the upper hand. Soon enough her pants became a hindrance, and so she reefed them down -- but instead of that being the engaging, exposing, levelling experience one might assume, she managed to use it to her advantage. With her pants and knickers around her ankles, her earlier claim of suffering through a period proved true: a very large sanitary pad was right there, right in the crotch of her panties, there was no missing it and she didn't even bother to hide it.

In fact, she took delight in it: "Yeah..." she growled at me, guttural, aggressive, as she saw that I had seen it, I had seen the pad and it had given me pause. "Look at it," she ordered me. "Look at it. That's right: that's my pad. That's right. It disgusts you, doesn't it?" she accused.

Well... it didn't exactly turn me on. I had never before been exposed to that sort of thing; the ladies in my life being possessed of enough discretion, to keep matters of feminine hygiene to themselves. But Valerie... not only did she put it on display, she was almost using this item of fragile femininity as a weapon, as a tool to strike against me: a man, a symbol of the male oppression she obviously felt she had striven against all her life -- the 'male oligarchy', she had called it.

"Yeah..." she moaned, eyes closed, revelling in the power she held over me: that she was able to rub my face in the frailty of her womanhood, as it were, that she was able to put her menses right in front of me and I was helpless to avoid it. "Yeah..." and now her voice was higher, more flighty, and I realised her fingers were deep inside her...

"Yeah!" she growled, and all of a sudden her fingers were out: she was pointing them at me, and even in the dim light of the little cubicle I couldn't help but see they held a few bloodied flecks, just a hint of menstrual flow on her fingers. "Look at that!" she cried, triumphantly. "Look at that, bitch! Look at that!"

I was coming to the brink. I was getting ready to blow. Now I'm not a freak, don't think that the blood on her fingers -- her menstrual flow, that most personal and intimate of womanly things -- please don't think that turned me on; it was in fact something of a turn-off, but despite that, there was something else. 

The blood on her fingers meant something. It embodied the power that she was holding over me; it enforced in my mind, reminded me of the way she made me do what I was doing; it was the fact that I was her bitch, I was helpless, I was totally and utterly at the whims of her fancy, her mercy... 

It was the combination of those things, that all amounted to a strange, almost shameful turn-on. The fact that she was showing me her bloody fingers, that she could use them as a weapon against me and there was nothing I could do: it was pushing me to the brink.

"Yes!" she cried now, and I could tell she was as close as I to the ultimate release. "Yes!!" she cried again, as she smeared her own bloody show between her fingers and thumb; my heart faltered as she stepped towards me, even as the fingers of her other hand worked with merciless power and speed at her own nether-regions. 

"You hate it, don't you?" she grinned at me, through gritted teeth. "You hate that this woman, 'No-Vadge Valerie' has you where she wants you. Don't you? Don't you??" she nearly hollered.

I couldn't give her a verbal answer -- but a quivering gasp escaped my lips. It seemed to spur her on, and she suddenly changed tack.

"Oh, no, you don't hate it..." she realised. "You love it. You love it! You're such a bitch, Jeremy... you are such a little bitch!!"

And nothing more was said. She was right in my face now, she could say no more, and we raced each other to the end. My hands were a blur on my cock; her fingers worked and worked at her, at the vagina we interns secretly whispered she didn't even have, and she freed one hand to tear open her shirt and reef her bra over her head, spilling a pair of fine, very fine breasts before me; and her orgasm crept up on her, she gasped and moaned and groaned, finally sounding and looking feminine, looking beautiful, sexy, so like a woman...

...and as her orgasm came, as she gave herself to it and rode it over the edge, she grabbed one of my hands and thrust it forcefully into her mound, making me touch her, making me feel her slick running juices intermingled with the thicker, foreign but unmistakable texture of her monthly flows...

...and on touching her, on feeling that, on feeling with my own fingers her most personal of places and her most personal issue, I came. My cock spurted hard and I came on her, my jizz hit her on her bared stomach...

...and she nearly howled at the sight of it, and hungrily, greedily, to my utter shock and disbelief, she fell to her knees and she swallowed the full length of my gorging cock and she drank me, she drank me up, she cradled my cock and my balls preciously in my hands and she slurped and sucked it out of me, gobbling every drop as though it was a precious nectar that she daren't spill. 

I was so shocked that I came anew. I tipped my head back and roared out a second orgasm; as I kept on coming with a new, vivid fire, I beheld her with disbelief as she kneeled at my feet in the ultimate submissive pose, sucking up every drop of my cum as though she was the bitch and I was the master, her eyes flicking up at me from time to time, as though seeking my approval, as though desiring my love and acceptance of her sudden accommodating mode.

Presently we were done; my orgasm was gone, I was sucked dry, and I heaved with shock and disbelief as I fought to regain my breath. She rose to her feet, standing before me... 

...and she was back. 'No-Vadge Valerie' had returned. Her customary defiance and strength and hatred of all mankind was back in her eyes, and she beheld me proudly, without an ounce of shame or humility at her submissive turn; revelling instead, in her victory over me, and perhaps secretly in showing somebody that she was more than a ball-buster; that she could be attractive, and feminine, warm and giving and accommodating, not a ball-buster but a Woman: strong, proud and beautiful.

As though she could read my thoughts: "Don't you dare tell a fucking soul," she instructed, in a spine-chilling whisper.

I nodded, in dumb acquiescence.

She gathered her clothes, and redressed quickly. I started to do the same but she barked an order to desist, making it clear she would keep me naked for as long as she desired.

"Now then," she added, when she was ready to make her leave; she flicked her hair through her hands, smoothing it out as though nothing more than a gust of breeze had knocked it out of place. "If you want to keep your pathetic job, you'll do exactly as I say, when I say, and as I please. If not: you'll hit the streets, and when I'm done dragging your name through the mud you'll be as unemployable as the guy who shot Kennedy."

"Lee Harvey Oswald?" I supplied, the over-eager fact-supplier in me piping up.

"Shut up!" she snapped. "Do you understand me? If you cross me, I will destroy you," she told me. "And that is a fucking promise."

The awful reality of my situation was hitting home now; funny, how much easier it is to think of those you love when your cock isn't hard any more. "Please," I said, softly, with as much quiet dignity as I could salvage. "My wife... we have a mortgage... if I lose my job we'll lose our house, we'll both be ruined..."


Unwilling but Able Ch. 01



"Is that your wife, on the other end of that webcam?"

I hung my head in shame. She knew the answer, so I didn't bother to voice it.

"Didn't think so," she sneered, in victory. "Well, whoever they are, I hope they enjoyed the show..." and she even blew a sardonic little kiss to the camera, as if to rub it in.

"Right then," she went on, as she turned to leave. "You will meet me here, just after five, Monday evening. I expect my period will be done by then -- let's see how much fun I can get out of you, before I grow bored of you. Goodnight, 'Jizzy Jeremy'." And with that, 'No-Vadge Valerie' left.

I was in shock, at an absolute loss, as I stood there with a flaccid cock and not even an inclination to put my clothes back on. I felt like I may as well walk home naked -- not as if that would land me in trouble any deeper than I had already earned for myself.

It was a lose-lose situation. Either tell my missus the truth, and be divorced, and ruin the both of us; or keep it to myself, and hope that No-Vadge would toy with me for as long as possible before she grew bored of me and destroyed me anyway, to satisfy her own vicious whims.

I sat back at the computer, noting that my internet friend had indeed seen the whole thing, as advertised by a lengthy string of 'OMG OMG OMG OMFG' in our chat window. We got to talking about it, but even with her help I struggled to come to grips with it.

I was fucked, one way or another. I didn't know what to do or how to get out of it. What did No-Vadge have in store for me? How long would she draw out my suffering? And how could she possibly top what she had just made me do -- how could she possibly make it more humiliating, or hotter than what we had just done? Could she top it?

Oh, you better believe she could. 



Unwilling but Able Ch. 02



The weekend was interminable. Thankfully, I didn't see too much of the missus; she went shopping with her girlfriends Saturday, then that evening I went out with my mates and got absolutely blind drunk, spending most of Sunday trapped in the bathroom and hurling like a champion. It was the best way to avoid her, I reasoned. I couldn't hide my guilt otherwise.

Monday came, and the day passed too quickly. The dreaded hour of five o'clock -- the hour when I had been ordered to meet Valerie, my boss and tormentor, the woman who knew about my use of company computers to download and upload explicit material and who had used it to blackmail me into submissive, sexual deeds -- the hour was nearly upon me, and I had not properly decided my course.

How could I go forwards? How could I go on? If I did not do exactly as 'No-Vadge Valerie' told me, if I dared to disobey: she would have my job, she would accuse me of attempting sexual transgressions against her, and she was good enough a lawyer that she would make the charges stick. She could ruin my life, destroy me forever, at a flick of her whim. But if I did what she wanted...

I loved my wife. I didn't want to cheat on her -- the very idea made me sick to my stomach. How I regretted my actions, the actions which had brought me to this point. Was it worth it? The seven hundred hours of illicit internet use, viewing pictures, reading stories, uploading stories, webcamming most indecently... I would gladly give it all back, have it all taken away, if it could save me from where I was now.

All the same, much as I wanted to do what was right, I knew I wasn't going to do the right thing. I wasn't going to stand up to Valerie, and confess all to my wife, and take all my punishments like a man. 

I couldn't do it. I was too much a coward. I tried to tell myself it was because I loved my wife too much to hurt her, to ruin her, to drag her down with me when I lost my income and we would default on the enormous joint mortgage that we could barely afford as it was... first and foremost, I knew it really was because I was a coward, a liar, a dog. I was every bit the bitch that Valerie had labelled me. I deserved everything she dished out; I deserved every second of the very worst she could imagine for me, the very worst and more.

Before I really knew it, I had found myself back in the basement level of our building, in the dank little cubicle in a corner of the archival sections where I had committed all my sins. That was where Valerie had ordered me to be, at five o'clock... and she didn't make me wait long.

I heard her high heels clip-clopping down the darkened, abandoned hallway -- I heard her coming long before she got there. How had I not heard her approach last Friday, before she busted me naked and enormous and ready to come in front of my webcam? Had she tip-toed down the hall, hoping to catch me in some masturbatory act?

She kicked the door open, and simply stood there in the doorway: the architect of my doom. She loomed terribly, seeming to me bigger than she really was: a five-foot-six giant, clad in a nondescript charcoal pants-suit, her shoes a similar charcoalish colour, all of it designed to flatter her not at all, to hide the rather nice figure I had seen on Friday night when she had given in to her desires and stripped before me, as she pleasured herself while she made me pleasure myself in front of her.

She didn't let me dwell on the memories too long: "Strip," she commanded. "And in future: be naked before I get here. There's nothing I want to do to you that will involve you wearing your clothes," she promised.

I said nothing as I obeyed. Though I couldn't help but dwell upon what she had said: 'in future...' She was going to draw this out. She was going to keep dragging me back. This was gunna be hell.

She watched me in silence, taking in every piece of my body as it came into view: my chest, my stomach, my arms and legs... my butt, as I let my shorts drop, and then my cock as I turned to face her again.

"You're getting hard," she observed, dispassionately -- and it was the truth. Despite all my fears and misgivings, my wayward cock was swelling, growing perversely, starting its inexorable ascent towards its full skywards-pointing glory.

She looked up to catch my eye, all contempt and scorn. "You are such a bitch..." she murmured, with spite. "I can't believe you like this."

I felt compelled to defend myself. "I don't like this," I demurred. "I hate it."

"You love it," she nearly snarled -- though I think she took some delight in that I was prepared to speak up, to try to defend myself. "Look at you! Look at that swelling cock of yours! It's calling you a liar, Jizzy Jeremy!"

"I hate this," I told her again, my voice level, quiet, not forceful -- I had no force in me for a strong argument, but I had to try. I had to speak up. "I hate this. I love my wife, I wish... I wish..."

"Shut up!" she snapped. "You love this. Your cock loves it, so you must love it. Look at you! You're as hard as can be -- longer and harder than any cock I've ever seen!"

I sighed -- I wasn't sure how to explain away the actions of my wayward cock, how to explain it to her or to me. "What my cock loves, and what I love, is not always the same thing," I tried.

"Bullshit. You are such a man," she sneered, most derisively, making it sound like an insult. "You're an animal. You might try to tell yourself that you're not, that you're a good person, that you love your wife and you wish things hadn't come to this... but you're an animal. Your cock proves you an animal, and a liar," she nodded, with a terrible, twisted grin.

"Your cock loves this," she went on, when it became clear I had nothing more to say. "Your cock loves it. Your cock loves the shame, the indignity, the humiliation... look how hard it is! How long, fat, throbbing it is! And I haven't even got started!!" and she was almost hooting with black triumph.

I hung my head. She was probably right. I probably was little better than a useless, snivelling, fuck-hungry beast -- I was ready, for whatever she was going to do to me. I was defeated; I was a broken man; and she knew it.

"Enough talk." Quickly, she unbuckled her pants and let them fall, stepping out of them and out of her shoes; I saw that, juxtaposed against the drabness of her suit, she was in fact wearing a very delicate, very sexy little number of black lace, a sheer and sensual pair of panties that surprised me -- I'd never thought of her as the type. 

"I'm going to show you how pathetic you are," she told me. "I'm going to use you and abuse you for all you're worth, and you're going to love it. Just watch, and say nothing."

And with that, she began to touch herself. She used two fingers of one hand, to touch her spot through her underwear: starting gently, sensitively, very arousingly, and my cock almost ached as I watched her.

She watched me while I watched her. She stared me down mercilessly. I couldn't meet her eyes, and I didn't really want to -- I was mesmerised by her fingers on her spot, in watching her touch and pleasure herself, so I locked my eyes on that and she didn't tell me to look away, for which I was glad.

"I want you to know..." she said, after a couple minutes' of silently pleasing herself. "I want you to know, I've been looking forward to this all day. I've been thinking on it... remembering what I made you do, last week... and it's been getting me wet, Jeremy," she informed me, in a voice low but not beguiling -- foreboding, actually, her tone not sexy but worrying, as I knew something bad was surely to come of it.

"I've been wet, almost all day..." she murmured, purring like the devil's black cat. "I've been touching myself, in my office, hiding my crotch and my fingers behind my desk... I've come at least half-a-dozen times today, touching myself and touching myself...

"And all the while, as I've dripped wetly and I've squirted and I've come, all the while: I've been wearing these knickers," she told me. "They've been wet... and then dried a bit... then wet again... and now, they are filthy," she whispered. "They're filthy with the smell of my drying juices; they're thick and crunchy with the salts and the dried-out, layered moisture of my sex... you can smell it, can't you?" she observed.

I most definitely could smell it. It wasn't a bad smell, but it was a strong smell, a very strong smell, the unmistakable and undeniable smell of a woman's hot wet sex. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react to it, how she wanted me to react to it, but... 

But I liked it. I had always liked the smell, the feel, hell: even the taste of a woman's sweet, thick nectar. I secretly loved to go down on a woman, and I tried to treat my wife to a bout of oral pleasure as often as I could, though she seldom let me because I would drive her beyond distraction each time and she hated to lose control like that.

"Look at your cock..." whispered 'No-Vadge Valerie', and I realised the thing had grown: over and above my usual generous norm, it was a twitching, throbbing monster. "Oh you sick little puppy," she accused me. "You love the smell, don't you? You love the smell of my day-old, drying, thick sticky juices. You sick little puppy!" she cried again, working at herself rather viciously now; the fact that I liked it was working for her, she seemed to simultaneously hate me for liking what disgusted her and also to find my arousal a wicked turn-on, and she was pushing more and more of the thin black lace into her cunt in seeking out her pleasure.

I envied her, that she was able to touch herself. I dearly wanted to touch myself too, I had wanted to touch myself from the moment I had stripped nude, but even though she had not broached the subject I knew I was not allowed to do so -- such a release would surely be forbidden. But still, I wanted to do it; my breathing was shallow and ragged, my agitation was clear, and my arms fought themselves back as I struggled and strained against the overwhelming urge to wank myself into oblivion.

And she knew it. "I bet you want to abuse yourself," she murmured, her own breathing hard and heavy as her pleasure built upon itself. "I bet you want to beat out a thick wad of sticky white cum, don't you...?"

I couldn't help myself: I nodded, my mouth open now, nearly gagging for the desire.

"Don't you dare touch yourself," she grinned, thereby confirming my suspicion -- I winced in genuine pain, but I obeyed.

"Yeah..." she almost moaned, as she kept working at herself, touching herself wantonly and without shame in front of me, as my cock ached and burned and yearned for the attention I was forbidden to give it. "Yeah, you love it. Don't you, bitch?" she asked of me. "You love it, and you hate it, all at once..."

I felt like I might come, even without touching myself. I felt like I might spontaneously come to orgasm, right there, right in front of her, with my hands tucked behind my back and clutching each other tightly to help me fight the urge to wank. It was such an excruciating, terrible, wonderful, beautiful sensation, and I watched with ever-building fire and ire as No-Vadge Valerie worked herself, and worked herself, until finally she tipped her head back with her mouth opened in a silent "O" and she came, she came quietly and gently but with a genuine release, and she rubbed her soiled underwear hard and unforgivingly up and down her slit, working as much more moisture as possible into her panties...

...panties which, I could foresee, she had further plans for.

But she made me wait. She made me wait while she wound herself down, slowly and deliciously from her silent little high, content for a minute to ignore my presence as she revelled in a marvellous little afterglow of which I was ever so jealous. Presently she regathered herself and caught my eye again, with an unkind grin growing on her face.

"Right," she said, and she peeled her underwear off. She literally had to 'peel' them away -- so slickened were they with the day-long flow of her juices, they clung sticky and unyielding to her snatch, the crotch finally coming away almost as she had the rest of her knickers pushed down to her ankles.

And she tossed them to me. "Put them on," she said, simply.

I had caught them, as a reflex; and as I reflected on her order, I reflected also on the feel of them in my hands, the crotch having landed in my fingers. They were slicker, more wet, more strongly-smelling and, frankly, almost greasy with the day-long accumulation of her wetness -- I simply boggled at them, and boggled further at the mere idea of what she wanted me to do with her underwear.

"Put them on," she said again, more forcefully.

I came slowly out of my stupor, though I was almost giddy with incredulity, almost overwhelmed by the sheer kinkiness of the situation; I lowered the item to my feet, slipped my legs in, and pulled them up into place. They were small and tight on me, but the material was sufficiently elastic and stretchy to accommodate my frame -- though my cock bulged comically against the material, stretching it almost to breaking point, looking like someone had pitched a two-man tent over the Washington Monument.

"Yeah..." she said, biting her lip with pleasure at the sight of me in her soiled undergarment; and it finally occurred to me that she was naked from the waist down. I snuck a look at her as she drank in the sight of me: she had a pretty little gusset, our Valerie, with a light covering of recently-shaved pubic regrowth showing her lips all puffy, pink and exposed, a slight sheen of moisture still evident.

"Now..." she added, and I realised an instruction was forthcoming. "Now... I want you to rub it in. Rub my filth into your filthy cock," she ordered, almost slavering at the idea of it. "But..." she added, as I reached tentatively for my extraordinarily tender, throbbing piece; "but... don't come. Don't you dare come. I don't want you to come yet. If you come, you're fired. Understood?"

I nodded, almost unable to speak. And I did as I was told: I took a hand, just the one -- for fear that two hands might bring me to the brink twice as fast -- and very softly, very gently, I rubbed the crinkly, crusty, slickly moistened lace into myself, moving my cock around as much as I could within the tight confines of her knickers, kneading the moisture into my tightly-drawn ballsack, all for her viewing pleasure.

"Ugh..." she nearly whimpered, and she was touching herself again, not caring that I saw her doing it: that I could clearly see her fingers toying and playing with her lips, dipping into her depths, pulling and tweaking at her gorging clit. "Yes," she breathed. "That's it, bitch. Rub it in. Rub my filthy juices into you. Feel it. Feel my moisture, the crustiness; smell it, smell the stench of my dripping cunt... yes, yes!"

It was a curious insight into Valerie, that she was unintentionally providing. I don't know why she was coming down so hard on herself, describing her delicious, juicy moisture in that way: it was a strong odour, but not a stench, she did not have a stinky sex -- it was a sweet, beguiling, enticing smell, made all the more strong and alluring for the day-long accumulation she had worked so hard to achieve.

And as she watched me rub it into myself, as she berated me and derided me and derided herself -- "yes, smell it! Smell the stench! Rub it in, rub my filth into you! Yes!!" -- I attempted to fathom: why did she describe her personal, beautiful issue thusly? Why did it rankle her so? Did she really think it irked me -- that I was appalled, disgusted by what I was forced to do, in any way?

I most certainly did not find it a turn-off, not in any way, shape or form. I was, in fact, struggling valiantly not to get myself fired -- I was ready to come, beyond ready, I wanted and needed a release bad, so bad. Having to hold it back, to find some way to move my cock against the slightly crunchy moisture of her panties as I wore them and massaged them into my cock, trying to do so without driving me over the edge -- withholding it made it all the worse, driving me beyond my limit and teasing me terribly, wonderfully and awfully, so bad it truly was painful...

"Enough!" she finally cried, and I could have kissed her except she probably would have killed me for it. "Take them off..." she ordered as she kept on fingering herself, and I quickly complied, hearing the urgency in her voice: she had further plans, and I was to obey before her next orgasm arrived...

"Okay... and now..." and she gasped, she heaved, and for a moment she could not speak for the incredible, mounting, doubling pleasure she delivered to herself, as she fought down an orgasm of her own...

"Now: put them on your head," she told me. "Put them on your head, with the crotch over your nose, in front of your mouth..."

She must have thought this would be the death of me. In fact, I did groan terribly at her order, though of course my groan was motivated by a terrible, exquisite expectation as I did as I was told, as I slipped the moisture-heavy garment over my ears and into position on my head...

"Now SNIFF," she barked. "SNIFF them. SNIFF my stench!"

And I did. I took both hands, I pressed the slick crusty crotch hard against my nose, right across my nostrils...

...and I inhaled her glorious, pervasive, incredibly arousing scent, the scent she for some reason called a 'stench', the scent that on its own very nearly made my cock explode.

"Yes!" she roared, teetering on the brink of another orgasm. "Yes!! Sniff it in! Sniff my stench! Sniff the stench of my filthy horrid cunt, you fucker! Now LICK it!!"

I already was licking it: secretly, just the tip of my tongue beyond my lips, secretly tasting of her though she hadn't told me to and it may well have cost me my job and my wife and my home and my life, but I had to -- I had to taste of it. And now, in obeyance and seeming submission, I licked it up: hungrily, greedily, I lapped at the layered greasiness of her day-long issue in full view for her edification...

...and she came, she came to see me licking it, lapping it up, eating up that which she found abhorrent and torrid and turgid, the sweet and salty and overwhelming juices of her sex, she nearly fell backwards over herself as she braced against a shelf and she came, she hollered and howled wordlessly as she watched me eat it up hungrily, greedily, wantonly.

She had hardly begun to wind down, when she realised that her orders had not had the desired effect: I was not being belittled, humiliated to the extent that she required.

"You like it!" she realised, almost with horror, with revulsion. "You like it, you dirty sick fuck! Well if you like it so much --"she strode suddenly towards me, she pushed me down on my knees, and suddenly her puffy dripping snatch was right in my face "-- then eat it up, bitch! Eat my cunt, eat it through my panties!"

And so I did: using the slicked, slightly-encrusted crotch of her panties as a shield, I licked at her, I licked at her pussy. She pushed my head roughly into her, slapping my hands away when I reached for her legs for balance -- I was not to touch her, there was to be no skin-on-skin contact. She reinforced the fact: "Don't you touch me! And don't you dare touch me with your tongue, either! You cannot touch me! Lick me through my filthy panties -- lick my cunt, you fuck! Lick me up, fucker! Lick me!!"

I obeyed, most willingly now -- how I loved to go down on a woman. And the added thrill brought by the submission, the powerlessness, the ultimate kink of her demands... my cock ached, burned, yelled for attention but she had ordered me not to do it, I was not to touch myself, so I left it alone though it nearly killed me to do so...

...and I did as I was told, I left the crotch of her panties as a shield between my tongue and her snatch -- but even through the material, through the layers of moisture previously applied by her dripping cunt, I could feel her heat, her moisture, I could smell her scent more clearly, the smell hotter, fresher, so enticing...




Unwilling but Able Ch. 02



...and she became wild, she bucked her hips against me, she nearly crushed my skull with the force that she threw my head against her, she reached up a moment to tear her shirt open and throw her bra away and she stood over me naked, arching her back, tipping her head back, dynamic and alive and sexy and beautiful...

...and her orgasm began slow and low, she gasped and moaned brokenly, it started slow but it built, it built in intensity as my ministrations found more speed, more force, as I nibbled the panties to manipulate her labia and I poked my tongue with its lacy condom into her depths and I dragged the material with my tongue around her clit, around and around and over, around and around and over, faster, faster, deeper, rougher, and she came harder, and harder, louder and louder...

...suddenly she whipped the panties away, she tore them away to remove the barrier, and it was on: now I was tasting her, I wasn't tasting her slightly stale day-old juices but I was tasting her, and I felt the silken swollen wet hot softness of her sex against my tongue, my lips, my mouth, and I ate her, I ate her up, I ignored her earlier command and reached around to grab her arse and press her ever harder against me and she let me, she was gone, she was beyond thought and reason as she came for me, and came, and kept on coming...

...she was gone, she was utterly abandoned, she was wild and beastly and beautiful, her forcefulness and will had fallen away and now she was a woman in orgasm, she wanted it, she wanted me...

...she fell to the ground and pulled me over her, pushed me up past her hips -- not allowing me to fuck her as I so dearly wanted, maintaining at least that element of power over me -- but she did pull my cock into her mouth, and I came instantly, I came with a cry and a thrust of my hips as I hovered over her and she bore up and down on me, up and down, she held me in place and drank me and drank me, her fingers expertly falling behind my balls and milking my perineum, bringing forth each spurt with an exquisite abandoned holler from my lips...

...and then she'd had enough of my cock and my issue, she pushed me over roughly and climbed aboard me, sitting on my face and I brought her back to another orgasm very quickly, an orgasm that gradually began to abate as I slowed in my ministrations, as an intense and long-awaited afterglow fell upon me and I let her wind down, and she settled gladly back into exhaustion, and finally she raised her cunt off my face and moved back down lower upon me, sitting upon my chest, looking at me as I looked at her.

For a while, for ten seconds or so, I was seeing a different Valerie. This wasn't No-Vadge Valerie, bitch and boss, my tormentor and mistress -- this was 'Valerie', plain and simple, a Woman and nothing more. 

For that moment, we shared in something. We shared in a joy, a wonder, a knowledge, a contentment heady and intoxicating. She looked at me, with a hint of appreciation and awe: looking with disbelief, amazed at what I could do to her, the heights I could raise her to, the talent I brought and the different kind of woman I helped her to feel like when she rode my face, she felt my tongue and she came for me, she came with me, she opened up to me and was not my mistress, but my equal -- a partner in joy and abandonment.

But it didn't last. 'Valerie' started to leave her face, and 'No-Vadge' came seeping back: a squint developed in her eye and the warmth switched off, replaced by a cold steely stare. And even though we sat together most intimately -- her cunt slick, hot, moist and open, pressed against my belly as she sat straddled atop me -- she regained the look of propriety, the ownership, the look of a mistress ready to beat her slave into submission once again; as though by pinning me down with her cunt, she was enforcing the power she held over me.

She beheld me thusly for a while longer, letting me wonder what my fate was to be, until finally, all that she said was: "Same time tomorrow."

It wasn't a question -- it was an order. I nodded, with a resigned sigh as my glumness began to return.

"Get up and help me find my clothes," she instructed as she rose to her feet. I did so, and she got dressed, and just like on Friday she forbade me to dress until she'd had her fill of me.

"Remember: don't you dare tell a fucking soul," she told me, once she was clothed and she made ready to leave. "If anyone ever hears about this: I will cut your balls off and I will post them to your mother. Understood?"

I nodded again, still trying to find the breath with which I might speak.

"Good. See you tomorrow, bitch."

Once she was gone, I crumpled inwards on myself, defeated yet again. But even so, a lot had happened that night, and it gave me to thought and to wonder...

She had unwittingly revealed some kind of self-directed revulsion, some sort of disgust for herself as shown by her hatred of the juices she produced from her pussy, her description of her own hot-and-heady scent as a "stench"; and again, just as in our first encounter, at the very height of her pleasure she had turned the tables and gone down on me, she took a sudden submissive and subservient turn in serving my need and drinking up every drop of my cum, spilling not a drop, once again trying to catch my eye as she did so, seeming to seek my love and approval in doing so... until once again, that side of her vanished, and No-Vadge Valerie returned with a roaring vengeance.

She was a woman of a million shades and complexities, that No-Vadge. But I was not in a position to muse upon them -- I was her bitch, her slave, I was totally under her control with no escape in sight, perhaps forever doomed to whatever humiliation or kink she pleased.

'Man,' I thought to myself, as I made ready to get dressed. 'What else could she possibly have me do?'



Unwilling but Able Ch. 03



The next day came, and looming over everything I did in my day-to-day duties was the knowledge that I was to meet Valerie -- my boss, tormentor and mistress -- at five o'clock on the dot, down in the cubicle hidden away in the basement archival sections of our law firm.

It was not long after lunch, however, when one of my fellow interns -- a nice young girl named Janine, a friend of my wife's whom we had known since our Uni days -- tracked me down with some bad news. "Hey Jeremy: No-Vadge wants to see you," she informed me.

My blood ran cold, as though I had been injected with liquid nitrogen: it seemed 'No-Vadge Valerie' was not content to wait til five o'clock. "Fuck," I breathed.

"You okay, Jerry?" Janine asked me, with genuine concern. "You've gone all white."

I shook my head, and tried to laugh it off. "You know old No-Vadge," I shrugged. "The evil bitch is sure to have some kind of hell in store."

"Well, good luck," Janine called, as she hurried off on another errand. I watched her go, wishing she could know how very dearly I needed the luck she wished me...

I hurried to Valerie's top-floor corner office. I didn't want to get there in a hurry, but I was worried if she had to wait too long for me it would provoke her to ever-more unkind acts.

I approached Valerie's office with dread crawling all over me. She had one of the coveted corner offices with a gorgeous view over the harbour, separated from the rest of the office by full floor-to-ceiling-length glass panelling with a door right in the middle of the panels, the door fashioned from some ornate kind of wood -- oak, or cedar, or some such. It allowed her to keep a watchful eye over the goings-on of the plebeians with their desks scattered across the general floor-space of the upper level, and it also meant that she could always see you coming when you answered her summons.

She spotted me very quickly, and even from across the floor I could see the smug, evil look on her face -- a face that held terrible portents for my pathetic self. 

How I hated being in the position I was, how I hated being under her control, being her bitch... though I couldn't help but admit, when the heat was on and she had me doing terrible, depraved, humiliatingly sexual things to myself, it riled me up like nothing else. I didn't understand it and it worried me like hell, but it was the truth. I hated it... but I loved it, too.

I opened the door and entered her office, shutting the door behind me. "Hello Jeremy," she smirked, unkindly.

I chose to say nothing, merely awaiting my fate.

She seemed amused by my defiant silence. "So I was thinking to myself: 'how I do love toying with that Jeremy.' It's such a lot of fun; everybody needs a bitch, I reckon," she grinned, evilly. "It's a great way to work out your frustrations, putting your bitch down like only a bitch deserves."

I maintained my silence, wondering how many times she could pack the 'bitch' word into one sentence.

"So I was feeling bored, and it occurred to me: why should I wait til five o'clock?" she went on. "After all, I'm in charge here -- you have to do as I say, when I say, or I'll fire your sorry arse and destroy you forever. You do know I can -- and will -- destroy you, if ever I feel like doing so..."

An answer was required, so I nodded. Just once.

"Very good," she praised, hollowly. "Okay then: strip."

I blinked -- I was unprepared for that, and I hesitated.

"Go on..." she urged, with a smirk, as though she was encouraging a precocious puppy to relieve itself in the back yard. "Get those clothes off."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She wanted me to strip? Right there? In her office, with the glass walls, in full view of everyone...?

"Go on!" she repeated, less kindly this time. "Step back, step hard back against the door -- you stay close enough to that door, there's less chance someone will see you. They might see you, if they come close enough... but I don't get many visitors, people round here don't seem to enjoy my pithy banter," she grinned, as though she took pleasure in her ball-busting, get-ahead-at-all-costs reputation.

My shoulders fell: she wasn't joking. She was serious. She would have me strip, right there, in her office... the wooden door was wide and high, it would shield me from most of the people out there, but there was always the chance someone might walk up, someone might see me... and if they did: what then?

The jig would be up, I foresaw. It would all be over. Valerie would cry innocent, she would accuse me of bailing her up in her office and performing lewdly and against her will, and if I wasn't fired on the spot I would instead be charged with indecent exposure and hauled off in chains. But if I didn't do it... if I disobeyed Valerie... she would fire me, or instead make me do something even more humiliating, she would make me strip and run naked through the office, or worse...

"Come on, Jizzy Jeremy," she cooed, tauntingly. "You know you want to..." and she nodded at my pants, which I realised contained a large and obvious bulge -- that damn cock of mine. As much as her orders scared me and humiliated me, my cock somehow took a perverse pleasure in my subjugation and grew hard at her merest command, swelling and slithering serpentine in my pants like a python on growth hormones.

Sighing in defeat, I started to remove my clothes, stepping back to nestle hard up against the heavy wooden door as I did so.

"Good boy..." she praised sarcastically, as my clothes hit the floor. "Now go on -- beat one off. I want to watch you make yourself come," she purred, evilly. "Better make it quick, too..."

That much we were agreed on -- I wanted to spend as short a time as possible, naked and exposed in her office, so I set to work on myself with vigour.

But it was hard going. Valerie, sitting behind her desk, did nothing to spur me on; she simply sat there, leaning back in her chair, an elbow up on the armrest and her chin cradled thoughtfully, amusedly in her hand as she watched. In our prior sessions she'd join me in masturbating, she'd gradually show me more and more until she was as naked as I, as we pleasured ourselves in front of each other and got off on watching the other -- but here and now, in her office, masturbating on my own, I couldn't make myself come.

How typical, I thought as I pounded frantically away. Exactly when I need to come straight away, it was going to take all day.

My orgasm was probably held at bay by the fear. I didn't want to get caught by anybody else. It would mean the end of my employment with the firm, for sure. There would be no coming back from that: busted, naked and aroused and masturbating in a senior lawyer's corner office... perhaps that was her plan. She had grown bored of me already, and wanted my downfall to be as spectacular as possible.

I was determined to triumph. I was determined to bring on my orgasm, and beat Valerie this time. I tipped my head back, shut my eyes and imagined; I put my situation and my surroundings out of my mind and I imagined sexy things, thinking sexy thoughts, bringing up sexy images and memories to kindle my arousal. And to my surprise, I found myself automatically thinking back on my prior sessions with Valerie...

...thinking on how she busted me, in this very pose, down in the basement in front of my webcam...

...thinking on how she made me continue, how she began to touch herself as she watched me...

...thinking on how she stripped down in front of me, exposing her nice long legs, her curvy hips, her surprisingly nice breasts and creamy white skin...

...thinking on the look on her face as she watched me wank, as she sank her fingers deep within her in seeking her pleasure: her teeth biting her lower lip, lids heavy, eyes unblinking as she refused to miss a second of my show...

"That's the way," I heard Valerie murmur, from where she sat. "It's getting bigger now... it must be coming soon..."

She was right; my imaginings were working. I could feel my cock swelling ever-more, my orgasm pooling and charging deep in my loins, and I took heart. I didn't open my eyes though, drawing instead on further images...

Valerie, fingers deep within herself, the fingers of one hand slipping in and out of her hot grasping cunt as the fingers of the other toyed and played with her clit...

Valerie, head falling back, chest heaving, breasts rising and falling as her mouth falls open and she starts to moan, to gasp, to scream as she came... yes... yes...

Valerie, falling suddenly and without warning to her knees, her mouth falling on my cock and swallowing me quickly and whole, drinking me up, taking every shot of my orgasm in her mouth... mmm, yes, yes...

Valerie, her mouth filled with my cock and my creamy cum, her eyes swivelling upwards to meet mine, submissive, seeking my approval, needing my validation... oh, so close, so very fucking cloooose...

"Oh my..." said Valerie, and I knew she knew: it was going to happen. I was going to come, right there, in her office, any second now... 

My orgasm was brinking, boiling up, ready to spill, hanging by a thread, so close, so close, come on...!

...and it was right at that moment, there was a knock on the door behind me.

I stopped. I froze. Everything froze: time froze, my hand froze, my heart froze.

"Don't stop!" Valerie ordered, almost desperate. "Don't stop!!"

My eyes sprang open and I pleaded with her, pleading, please, no...

"You come right now, Jeremy, or you're fired!" Valerie snarled -- and I saw she had a hand buried beneath her desk, she must have been pleasuring herself too, she needed my orgasm to achieve her own...

...so I got back into it, pounding with a new fury, pounding and wanking even as the knock came again...

"Yes..." Valerie moaned, as she watched me work away and she looked around the door. "Yes..."

As the unknown visitor knocked for a third time, I came; my load came racing and roaring like a torrent up my cock and I came, it came jazzing out of me, flying far across the room to land several feet in front of me on the thick expensive carpet. I kept wanking, I kept pounding, and I kept coming...

...and I heard a quiet exhalation, a subdued exaltation as Valerie came too, as she released a gasping sigh and a quiet, very feminine, very delicate little moan...

...and even as I kept coming, as my cum pumped and spilled hotly out of my cock and streamed all over the floor before me, I turned and saw -- looking at me through the glass wall adjacent to the door -- I saw Janine, mouth open wide with pure disbelief, watching me as I stood naked in Valerie's office with an enormous erection and an orgasm streaming out of me.

Our eyes locked. I realised my mouth was open, I was grunting hard, gasping without control as the orgasm gripped me. There was nothing in my head, there were no thoughts, there were not yet any feelings of fear or terror, nothing but the white noise of an orgasm occupied my thoughts. All of that would come later -- for now, I was coming, and that was all.

I observed, almost dispassionately in my abandoned state, that Janine wasn't moving. She wasn't turning away; she wasn't making to leave; she wasn't running to tell everybody what I was doing in Valerie's office, to rat on me and get my sorry arse fired.  

She merely stood there, hard up against the glass, eyes flicking with disbelief from my cock to my face, her arms locked around a pile of documents that Valerie had probably sent her to fetch. That Valerie had probably sent her to fetch, with instructions to return at this very time...

Valerie. There she sat, behind her desk, a hand disappearing from view -- and though there were still a few hints of an orgasm about her own face, as she watched me come and watched me being discovered, the overriding theme on her face was one of vindictive glee.

I looked to her, the question evident on my face: 'what do I do? What do I do now?'

"Well, don't let her get away," Valerie instructed. "You'd better get her in here, nice and quick, before she goes and gets you fired."

I boggled at her, uncomprehending.

"Go on!" she barked, making me jump. "Grab her! Get her in here!!"

Orders from Valerie were to be obeyed, so I did just that: quick as a flash, I whipped the door open, grabbed Janine by the arm, dragged her into the room and slammed the door shut, pinning myself back against it to remain hidden from further prying eyes. 

Janine had stumbled slightly at my rough treatment, but she turned around and beheld me with shock, as my cock gradually stopped pumping itself dry.

"Jerry?" she said, incredulously. "What are you doing??"

I had no answer for her, aside from the patently obvious, so I said nothing; I looked to Valerie for help, not expecting anything from her, but she surprised me.

"Jeremy has been a very bad boy," Valerie announced; Janine jumped, perhaps only realising now that Valerie was in fact in the room, and she took a step to the side so she could behold us both. 

"He's been a very bad boy," Valerie continued, "and he has to do what I say, or I'll fire him. That is what he's doing."

Janine blinked. "Oh..." she said -- what else was there for her to say?

"Now then, Janine," Valerie continued. "You have two options, and I won't do anything to sway your decision. Either you can go and report what you've seen here to the senior partners, or you can keep it to yourself. Just know: if you do go and tell the partners, it will end Jeremy's career, end his marriage and destroy his life. I will make sure of that."

Janine took this in; bless her heart, I could see she didn't want that for me. "And..." she said slowly, the situation still taking time to sink in. "And if I decide to keep this to myself?"

"Then you're free to go," Valerie shrugged. "I can keep having my fun with Jeremy; Jeremy won't lose his job; and there'll be no trouble from me for you. You've done nothing wrong here, you're just an 'innocent bystander'," she added, with a smirk.

"Okay," said Janine; she took one last look at me, taking her time to look me up and down, drinking me in and lingering on my engorged, spent cock -- all of which surprised me greatly. 

"Well, I've always liked Jerry," she went on, "and I don't want to get him in trouble. I'm going to just drop off these files, turn around, and go. Okay?"

"That's fine," Valerie nodded, as Janine left the files on her desk. "You're very kind, Janine. Be sure to thank her, Jeremy," she added, making it sound every inch the order it was.

"Thank you, Janine," I mumbled, burning with shame, unable to look her in the eye.

"It's okay," Janine answered. I snuck a look at her as she approached the door where I had remained, and found her once again staring at my cock; she caught my eye, and to my absolute disbelief, there was a hint of a smile about her lips... a very definite hint, of a very particular smile.

'Oh no...' I thought.

But I stepped aside to let her escape, all the same; once she was gone, the door was closed and I was safely hidden once again, I shot Valerie a despairing look.

"Okay, go on, get dressed again," Valerie grinned. "Ahh, you do put on a good show," she added, sighing contentedly... and as if I needed anything else to put my head in a spin, Valerie lifted one of her previously-occupied fingers to her mouth and she tasted it, she tasted of herself, she ran the finger across her lips and then slipped it in to suck on it, greedily, hungrily, and with an incredibly steamy look in her eye.

I stifled a groan, but I said nothing more as I worked to set a new record time for getting dressed, ignoring the twitches in my cock that felt like the aftershocks following a magnitude-nine earthquake.

"I'll bet getting caught like that was a dirty little thrill for you," she spoke up, while she watched me dress. "And getting caught by such a good friend, too..."

I risked glaring at Valerie, as I wrestled my way back into my shirt.

"And you know: I rather think our Janine kind of liked what she saw," Valerie crowed, most maliciously. "Perhaps she has something of a crush on you, Jeremy? Hmm?"

I would stand silent no longer -- I had to speak my piece. "I don't think so," I told her. "She's a good friend of my wife's. She'd never think of me like that."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Valerie scoffed, grinning at my discomfort on the topic. "Well then, if you're so keen to argue the matter: let's find out for sure, shall we? Give me your email password."

I blinked: she wanted access to my email? Oh no... "No," I responded automatically.

No-Vadge Valerie's face hardened instantly. "Don't you DARE tell me 'no'," she hissed, dangerously. "You tell me 'no' ever again, I'll have the senior partners on line one and your wife on line two," she added, picking up her office phone. "We'll all have a merry little conference call, to bring everyone up to speed on your antics. How does that sound?"

I sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat; I spelled out my password to her, watching as she wrote it down.

"Right," said Valerie, in a business-like tone. "Time to see if we can bring Janine into the fun. Go on back and watch your emails; this is going to be a bunch of fun," she added, with her trademarked evil leer.

Having been dismissed, I left her office, my perverse little mind wondering who was going to clean up all the spilled jizz on the floor. I wandered in a daze back to my desk, clicking to my email program to watch for whatever sordid little message Valerie would send on my behalf... and I didn't have to wait long.

"Hey Janine," she wrote, in an email from me to the very same. "I'm so sorry you had to see that. I feel so bad. I hope you don't hate me for what you saw; I really can't stand what she's making me do, I hate every second of it. I'd love a chance to explain myself to you -- No-Vadge has got me busy all afternoon, do you think you can meet me in the archival records room down in the basement, about 5pm today? Please just come and let me explain myself... I'm sorry, Janine," Valerie wrote for me, in a surprisingly effective turn of creative writing.

Janine's response came back very quickly: "Hi Jerry. You poor thing! How did this happen? Why do you have to do that for her? I could hardly believe what I saw in her office... don't be sorry though, I'm sure you're innocent in all this. It wasn't that hard on the eyes, anyway," she added, and my heart sank as I saw she added a suggestive little ;) on the end. 

So Valerie was right; she was more perceptive than I would have paid her credit. More perceptive than me, at any rate -- never once in my life had I suspected Janine may have had a thing for me.

"So yeah," Janine's email continued, "I'll definitely meet you this evening down in the basement. I'm so curious to know how this all came about... who knows, maybe we can put our heads together, think of a way to get back at her, eh? Poor Jerry. Cya at 5," she signed off.

I was aghast, utterly aghast. I couldn't let Janine be sucked into all this -- it would end in tears, I knew. Janine had always been a good friend to me and to my wife, she was such a lovely person; if my failings were to get her in trouble too...

I wanted to send her a reply. I wanted to write to her: "No Janine, it's a trap, stay away..." but before I could even put fingers to keyboard, an email came into my inbox from Valerie.

"You'll be there at 5 for Janine," she instructed. "Don't warn her off. Don't stand her up. Come to my office for further instructions."

My heart sank to its lowest ebb. 'Fuck,' I mentally cursed, as I rose to do her bidding. 



Unwilling but Able Ch. 04



It was a few minutes to five, and I sat in the dank little cubicle in the basement of my firm's archival levels, hating myself.

This was the room where I had committed all my sins; this was where, outside of office hours, I would sit night after night and download pornography, upload pornography, and masturbate like crazy. This was where my boss, No-Vadge Valerie, had caught me doing exactly that; and now this was where I would have to seduce my good friend Janine, in order to keep my job, keep my house and keep my wife.

My instructions were burned into my memory. "You are to wait for Janine in the records room," Valerie had told me, after summoning me to her office. "And when she gets there, you're to tell her what you did; you're to tell her what you've done by my instruction, how you've humiliated yourself and submitted to my whim and will; and then, you have to fuck her."

I had boggled at Valerie when she dropped that on me. "What? How?"

"That's up to you," Valerie shrugged. "But that's what you've got to do. You have to fuck her, right there in that room, so I can watch."

I stared at her. "You'll be there?"

"In a fashion," she leered.

"But how?" I asked, more of myself than of Valerie.

"Find a way. Seduce her. Win her with your charms," she sneered. "If that fails: pin her down, and do it to her until she enjoys it."

I shuddered at the very thought. "I could never do that."

"Then you'd better be at your charming best," grinned Valerie, derisively. "Because I promise you: if you fail to fuck her, the jig is up. I'll expose you, and fire you, and you can watch your world crumble around you. Howzat sound?"

That sounded pretty shit, in my opinion. "Understood," was all I said. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, most certainly -- get cracking!" Valerie commanded. "Start working on your 'game plan'. I can't wait to see how you'll go about it... and I can't wait to see how you're going to look, while you're fucking that skinny little bitch," she added, with a leering sneer on her face.

So at a few minutes to five, I was waiting for Janine, filled to overflowing with the thickest, blackest kind of self-loathing. Up to this point, everything I had done for Valerie and with Valerie was not exactly kosher -- far from it, what with the stripping of clothes, the masturbatory performing, the mutual masturbation and bouts of oral sex -- but at least it hadn't hurt anyone. 

It had been, in fact, been done on my part to avoid hurting anybody else; if I had refused No-Vadge Valerie's demands she would have had me fired, she would have destroyed my career before it had even begun, she would have torn up five years of study at University, she would have left me with no options and no prospects; my wife would have found out about my addiction to pornography and my relationships with other women over the internet, she would have divorced me; and with my reputation destroyed, I would have lost all forms of income, my wife and I would have defaulted on the enormous mortgage and we would both be financially ruined. I had tried to justify it to myself, that my actions were all to protect my wife, to spare her the humiliation and betrayal and disaster that she did not deserve, that would all have been due to my failings. I could either cheat on her with Valerie, or destroy my wife -- it was a case of choosing the lesser evil.

But now, Valerie was intent on dragging poor young Janine into it. Janine was such a sweet young thing; a friend of my wife since before I had met them, she had always been kind, bright, bubbly and friendly, and we shared most of our classes together while studying Law back in University. Though she was a very attractive girl -- slim and slender, but athletic, with sizable breasts for her frame, tight curves and an awesome gym-toned rump -- I had never seriously thought of her in lecherous terms, treating her more like a friend, even a sister. But the way she had looked at me, when she found me naked and hard and wanking in Valerie's office, the way her eyes had drunk me in, staring and unblinking as she watched me cum...

She was interested. There was an attraction for me, which I in my dumb unseeing way had never noticed in all the years I had known her. Janine's attraction for me had not escaped Valerie's notice; and the evil harridan now intended to rope Janine into our tangled web, to what intent I hardly dared to imagine.

I was torn. I was beside myself with guilt and self-directed hatred. It was no longer clear, where the greater evil lay: if I warned Janine off, or if I failed to get into Janine's pants, Valerie would destroy me. If I managed to seduce Janine, Valerie would somehow use that to her advantage, either as further evidence to damn me or perhaps, perhaps she would do worse...

I wouldn't let myself think on it. I already knew what I was going to do; regardless of whether it was right or wrong, I was going to try my damnedest to bed Janine. I was already in too deep, it was far too late to try to do the right thing now -- all I could hope for was the least dreadful outcome, that nothing worse than Valerie secretly getting her kicks out of somehow watching me and Janine get together, would result. Though even now, as I heard footsteps approaching my basement cubicle, I had no idea how Valerie intended to watch us...

The door opened, and with the utmost dread I turned to see... it was Janine. "Jerry..." she breathed, pausing wide-eyed as she saw me.

I looked to her with the utmost regret and apology in my eyes. "Janine: I am so, so sorry..." I told her.

"Hey: it's okay," she assured me, suddenly full of care and concern as she approached me, stopping at a short distance.

"I... I'm sorry you had to see me doing that..." I went on.

"Jerry: I told you, it's okay," she said again, and I saw a smile playing about the corners of her mouth, betraying the fact that in some ways she quite enjoyed what she saw of me, naked, engorged, cum streaming hotly out of my cock...

I sighed, feeling defeated. "Thank you, Janine," I murmured. "Thanks for being so good about it. You could have gone and got me fired, or you could have gone and told Melinda..." I stopped, and genuine tears stung my eyes. "Janine, I hate myself so much, for what I'm doing behind her back..."

Janine's face was a picture of sympathy and understanding, and she leaned forwards to take my hands in hers. "Oh Jerry..." she said. "Talk to me. Tell me all about it."

So I did just that. I laid out as much of the truth as I dared: I told her of what I got up to after-hours, how I spent seven hundred hours in six months downloading and uploading pornography on the very same computer in the room where we stood, and how Valerie had been informed by IT and on her way to fire me she had found me much as Janine had found me earlier that day, naked and abusing myself... and I told her how, instead of firing me, Valerie decided to hold it over me and blackmail me into performing for her will, how she made me do things for her and to her in order to save my job and my marriage.

"That evil bitch!" Janine commented, on receiving the full story. "That is so wrong! I can't believe she's doing this to you... Jerry, I am so, so sorry!"

"Oh Janine: don't be," I told her, glumly. "Don't pity me. I'm not worth it. I deserve what I'm getting; I deserve every second of it, and worse."

"Jerry, no!" Janine scolded, taking me aback slightly. "Don't talk that way! Don't you dare think that way! You're a good guy, Jerry," she assured me, releasing one of my hands to rub me on my upper arm; it was a gesture at once supportive, and mildly suggestive, and as I looked to her I saw in her face not only her usual warm expression of friendliness and encouragement -- once again, I saw something more.

"Really, Jerry, you are such a wonderful guy," she said again, and she took a half-step closer. "For as long as I've known you, Jerry, you've been nothing but a stand-up bloke. You're smart; you're funny; you've been so good to Melinda through all these years, she's so lucky to have you..." and there it was again, she was looking to my eyes, putting herself out there and looking to me, searching in me for a response.

I was hesitant. I liked Janine; I really liked Janine. Though part of me didn't want to do this to her, didn't want to bring her into my hell, didn't want to take advantage of her most-flattering affection for me... there was another part that responded to her advances, a significant part of me below the beltline that was already swelling and growing, as though responding to the pheromones in the air; my heart pounded against my chest and my nostrils flared as I sought for extra air, struggling to breath through my mounting excitement.

But I fought it all down, if only for the sake of not coming on too strong. It had been ages since I had seduced a woman; Melinda and I had been together for what already felt like an eternity, and like many married people, I missed the hunt, I missed the allure and the excitement of enticing a woman into my arms. I had to do this right. My job... my marriage... everything depended on winning this woman. In some ways it seemed easy, she was making a clear and obvious pass at me and a bit of action was definitely was on the cards; but, being the clumsy oaf that I was, far too many times in my life I had stuffed up and destroyed even the easiest of opportunities. That I somehow managed to bag Melinda, sometime in the dim and distant past, was something of a minor miracle...

Because I wasn't saying anything, Janine spoke on. "You don't deserve this, Jerry," she said again, speaking low and soft, which made me lean in towards her -- all the better for hearing what she said, of course. "I mean, sure, you've made a few mistakes, you've been a bit of a bad boy..." and she was grinning when she said that, clearly thinking back to what she had seen, how much she had seen of me back in Valerie's office "...but nobody's perfect, Jerry. We're all entitled to a bit of 'fun'..."

Oh damn -- the look on her face when she told me that could have lit a room full of candles, such was the heat hiding behind her smouldering brown eyes.

"Janine..." I said; I hesitated, unsure how to approach what had to be done, and I decided on playing a bit coy. "Janine, I want to thank you for being so good to me. Thank you for being so supportive. If you had done something else today... if you had gone to the bosses, or if you had gone to Melinda..." and, as much to my own surprise as to Janine's, I found genuine tears brimming in my eyes.

"Oh Jerry..." she said, with a wry smile at my silliness -- as though the fears I held over how much I had to lose were silly trifles. "Come here," she instructed, beckoning me in for a hug, and I did just that.

We held each other for a while, electricity crackling in the air. We were so hot for each other, the chemistry crackled between us, and we both knew it. It was there; it was up for the taking; but something held me back. I couldn't quite bring myself to make a move -- I could have, I could have kissed her there and then, I could have had her as simple as that, but I simply couldn't do it. Something held me back.

But she was determined. She pressed herself close, she pressed herself hard against me, and I had to turn my hips slightly to keep the bulge in my pants from making itself known against her belly. "Jerry..." she whispered, her breath hot against my neck and sending a tingle across my skin, up to my scalp and down to my toes. "I've always been so jealous of Melinda, Jerry... I've always wished I could have a guy like Melinda's, a guy like you, just like you..."

She was egging me on, and it was tearing me to pieces. Everything south of my beltline was crying and screaming for release, for me to just jump on her and do it already; but my head and my heart still held me back. It was a combination of not wanting to cheat any worse against Melinda than I already had -- sure, Valerie and I had done a lot, but at least I hadn't yet stuck my dick into her, which I knew would happen if I gave in to Janine -- combined with a will, a will strong yet dwindling, fading fast, to keep Janine clear. To keep her innocent of any wrongdoing, and out of Valerie's clutches.

But Janine was there, she was right there, in my arms; she was so warm, she smelled so good, her heat was thick in the air and it filled me up, it made my mind go light, my heart race a mile a minute, my cock stretch and rile against my pants as though it sought to reach out and poke her...

I had to do something, I had to vent, I had to have some release. I did as little as I dared, as little as I hoped would offset my pending heart attack yet somehow do enough to sate Janine's unmissable desire: I leaned back and kissed her, gently on the forehead, in as tender and caring and appreciative a fashion as I could manage; I wanted not to make my desires known upon her, but instead to let her know I appreciated her, I appreciated her support, I was so thankful for her being there for me exactly when I needed somebody, more than any other time in my life I needed someone there to understand, to tell me it was okay, to tell me I wasn't a monster, to remind me I was a victim...

"Thank you," I breathed. I kissed her again on the forehead, saying "thank you" again, and then again a little lower, kissing her on the cheek, and barely had I opened my mouth to say "thank you" again: Janine darted in and kissed me, hotly, on the mouth... 

...and it was on. There was no holding back the release that poured out of me: I took her strongly in my arms, returning her kiss with change. I let all my pent-up feelings, emotions, worries and guilt simply pour into an internal chamber where they mixed and swirled and turned into pure liquid desire, and I then let that desire pour out of my lips upon hers, I let it pour through my hands all over her body, I let it pour out through my hips as I pinned my throbbing erection between the two of us, pressing it hard and with heavy intent into her, and she responded most positively.

She moaned, she mumphed and she groaned with exquisite delight as we kissed, and kissed, and kissed some more. I let my kisses wander down her face, down her neck and as her button-down shirt suddenly became unbuttoned in a flurry of our hands and fingers, I kissed her along her shoulders and about the soft, creamy-coloured flesh of her chest.

"Jeremy..." she breathed as I kissed her, and I revelled in hearing her use my name, thrilling as she released my name as a sigh of long-awaited content: "Jeremy, yes... oh Jeremy, I've wanted this, I've wanted this for so long..."

We kissed some more, I went back to kissing her again on the mouth, as though I had rather not hear what she had to say. But she shortly broke off, sneaking around to bite me on the earlobe, and fighting back a resigned sigh I sank my lips into the tender hollow of her neck as she spoke again...

"Jeremy, I have wanted you for so long. Almost since the time you and Melinda first hooked up, I wanted you... you're so handsome, and sexy, and funny, and genuinely nice -- you're such a rarity! An actual nice guy!"

I cringed secretly at that -- and I hoped, I desperately hoped and prayed, that wherever she was, No-Vadge Valerie couldn't hear us right now... oh, how she would snigger if she heard Janine calling me a 'nice guy'.

"Oh Jeremy..." Janine continued. "All these years, you've always treated me as a friend, as a person -- not just a 'chick', not just a thing, an object like most guys do. I've never even caught you perving on me, checking me out, I've never really known whether or not you ever thought of me that way, whether you've ever found me as attractive as I've found you... and Jeremy: that's only made me hotter for you."

I didn't speak; I said nothing, making as if I was too hot and heavy to form words and sentences. She seemed content with that, though she spoke more...

"And then, this afternoon when I saw you, in No-Vadge's office, all hot and naked and so big and long and hard...!" and she ground her hips against me, she worked herself into the tender, aching bulge in my pants, even as I tossed Janine's shirt away and worked to get out of my own shirt, taking a moment to drink in the sight of Janine topless: her breasts in a bra, simple in white cotton, but so glorious, so wondrous, and I pressed my chest as I bared it into her, to feel the gentle swell of breast against me...

"...when I saw you," she went on, "when I saw you with your cock in your hand, and with massive gobs of hot white cum jazzing across the room and dripping onto the carpet... oh, Jeremy, it was the hottest thing I'd ever seen," she confided, with a thrillingly wicked, dirty edge to her tone. "I... I could hardly look away from it, I had never before seen anything so beautiful, so big, so hot..." and she reached down to squeeze my cock through my pants, even as we pushed my shirt away and raced to free the thing "...it had me so distracted I didn't even realise No-Vadge was in there, and when she finally sent me away... Jeremy... I went straight to the bathroom..." and she leaned back, as my trousers fell to the floor, and she caught my eye to deliver the sting in her story: "...I went straight to the bathroom, Jeremy, and I fucked myself like crazy."

My mouth fell open at the news, and I could see it: I saw Janine, formerly in my mind all sweetness and innocence, I saw her now locked in a cubicle, her skirt pulled roughly up about her hips, her panties thrust aside, two fingers thrust deep into her sweet little cunt as she pictured my cock and she brought herself to orgasm, imagining how my cock felt inside her...

I almost fell on her, such was the new flood of my desires. I almost tore her bra off her, beating the clasps in record time and freeing her gorgeous, perfect little puppies, grabbing them, kneading them and squeezing them roughly, greedily; as I did so, she rid herself of her skirt and she was about to do the same with her panties, but I wouldn't let her. I stopped her, I grabbed her and spun her around, and before she could cry in protest I had my hand in her panties -- and my fingers landed directly upon her spot, making her snap backwards and freeze, her body arching stiffly backwards, her head tipping back as I immediately found her pleasure, as I landed expertly upon her button and brought her to a sudden gasping halt...

I was to be the boss. I was going to be the boss this time. I had had enough of being the bitch, of taking orders: here -- without going so far as to subjugating Janine, I liked her too much to do that to her -- here, I was going to take the lead, and show Janine the way.

I rubbed her, just once, to show her what I could do: a quick, firm little circle, right upon her spot, and it made all the air in her lungs escape in a long, drawn-out sigh. I waited until she had inhaled again, watching her breasts rise alluringly as she drew in an extra-large breath, and I did it again: another quick swirl on her spot, firm but not rough, and again it let all of her air slip free.

I held her close against me, pressing my aching girth hard into her; and as I toyed with her and played with her, she tried to return the favour, reaching behind her to seek out my long hard rod with her hands. She couldn't get to it at first, as I had it pressed so firmly into her, so she contented herself with exploring my body instead: running her hands down my muscly thighs, and up across my strong stomach, reaching back and upwards to trace the muscles of my back and shoulders, exploring the strength of my body with her hands.

Her ministrations felt wonderful, her appreciation of my body clearly telegraphed and most welcome; for the first time since forever, I felt appreciated, I felt wanted... I felt worthy. All my self-directed hatred, my feelings of worthlessness, they had all vanished on the breeze. In this beautiful, young, vivacious and generous young woman, I had found once again a sense of self-worth; and as I built her up to orgasm, I once again felt masculine, I felt like a man, and as I gently massaged her into a quiet, subdued orgasm -- as she tipped her head back onto my shoulder, as I took her breast in my free hand and as I rubbed her gently and lovingly, she came, she came for me with a quivering sigh of immense contentment and joy.




Unwilling but Able Ch. 04



On letting her wind down, now I freed her of her underwear -- I whipped them down her legs, sudden and unexpected as I still stood behind her, and she yelped with surprise and laughter before rounding on me and doing the same, finally freeing my gorging cock and laying her hands on it, gently, reverently.

"I want to make you cum..." she whispered, catching my eye with a gloriously dirty glint in her own. "I want to swallow you up, and make you cum for me... I want to drink every drop..."

I sighed in relief -- she wanted to blow me. As Clinton famously said, that does not strictly entail a sexual act; it was a lot to do with my wife's best friend, but at least I would not actively, actually 'fuck' her. "Yes please," I told her, matching her grin.

She made an awfully cute little noise of absolute glee, and she fell to her knees; but as she did, my heart was suddenly gripped by despair, as I saw Valerie standing in the doorway.

Even as Janine fell to her knees and took my cock in her hand, teasing it and working a glob of pre-cum into the knob, my entire being crumpled as I saw Valerie standing there, arms folded, simply watching. She had removed her noisy high-heels to approach silent and barefoot; and as she saw me see her, she beheld me with a derisive, smug air of ownership.

I must have involuntarily shrunk away from Janine when I saw Valerie; it was exactly when Janine was moving to take me in her mouth, so she looked up: hot, naked but concerned. "Jeremy? Are you okay?"

My eyes flitted to the doorway, unwittingly seeking direction from Valerie -- falling instantly back into the role of the bitch, without even thinking about it. Valerie mouthed a sentence to me, and I read it loud and clear: 'Let her blow you,' she instructed.

I looked back to Janine: she hadn't cottoned on, she was as yet unaware of the intrusion. I forced a smile; "Just teasing you a bit," I told her. 

Janine put on a cheeky face of mock indignation. "Do you want me to suck your cock, or not?" she demanded of me.

I smiled warmly. "Go on: blow me," I invited. "Eat me up. Gobble me up, suck me long and hard, and drink every drop."

Janine grinned in victory: "My pleasure," she winked, and without further ado my cock was in her mouth, and she slurped and sucked along my length tenderly and expertly.

I made a show of leaning back, bracing myself against a filing cabinet, but I could not help but look to Valerie. Her eyes were locked on my cock in Janine's mouth; we were set at a slight angle, Janine's back to the doorway, but turned just enough so that Valerie could see Janine's lips slipping up and down my shaft, she could see my bulging purple head popping out of Janine's mouth momentarily as she rested her jaw and wanked me, before swallowing me up again, making my pleasure mount.

As I watched Valerie watching us, I saw the familiar softening of her hard, hateful expression; I watched with fascination as gradually her guard dropped, and her excitement took over. Her arms uncrossed, and her hands fell, playing perhaps unconsciously upon her thighs, her fingers wandering up and down her legs, sometimes inward, sometimes outward.

I hated what Valerie was doing to me, and to us. I hated the concept of her lording over me. But at the same time, I found it incredibly riling; watching Valerie gradually give herself over to her surprisingly intense sexuality was at once fascinating and so very arousing, and I wanted to feed it, I wanted to make her give herself over quicker.

So I put on a show for her. I pretended to ignore her, and gave myself to my own mounting pleasure; I half-closed my eyes, tipped my head back slightly, and ran my hands caressingly and encouragingly through Janine's hair, urging her on, pushing more of my length into her mouth. As time went by, Janine gradually started to deep-throat me, tentatively taking more and more of me into her until her lips were reaching the end of my long, thick shaft, the muscles of her throat clasping wonderfully and expertly about my knob, bringing me closer and closer.

My apparent abandonment worked for Valerie: perhaps encouraged by the thought that she wasn't really being watched, she started tending to herself, loosing her pants and slipping a hand deep in to pleasure herself; I watched as her mouth opened wide as she touched herself, as she treated herself the way she knew best, doubtlessly running her fingers all through her mounting wetness and teasing her clit roughly, mercilessly.

I couldn't believe how well I was faring against the situation. My orgasm was quite far off; Janine's mouth felt awesome, and my excitement was through the roof with the newfound joys of Janine's affections and with Valerie's masturbating witness to our shenanigans, but somehow I was not yet ready to come. It was as though I was waiting for something... waiting for more...

And it was not long forthcoming. Presently, Valerie sought to catch my eye; with Janine safely engrossed in deep-throating my full length, I looked to Valerie, and read her lips as she spelled out my next instruction: 'Fuck her. Fuck her in the cunt. Now,' she added, a hint of desperation about her face with her final word: she needed to see it. She needed to see me fuck Janine, to bring about her own pleasure.

My heart fell again, knowing that I had no choice but to comply -- to go all the way with Janine, and commit the ultimate deed against my wife and my marriage. Now: how to go about it...?

"Mmm, Janine..." I breathed, not having to fake the heavy pleasure in my voice. "Janine, I want you... I want, I want to take you..."

She stopped, slipping her mouth off my cock to look up at me expectantly.

"Janine: I need to fuck you," I told her, putting the full heat of my horniness behind my eyes as I met her look. "I can't take any more -- I've gotta put it in you..."

With an almost animal noise of abandoned joy, Janine leapt to her feet and into my arms. I held her weight easily, she was very slight and I had more than enough strength -- I lined her up and teased her, very gently, bringing the tip of my cock to nestle within the wondrously wet warmth of her outer folds.

"Ohhh..." she quivered, eyes closed, her arms wrapped about my neck; her eyes snapped open and she held my eye.

"Fuck me," she instructed. "Fuck me please. Fuck me, Jeremy! Fuck me!!"

Now there was an order I would not object to, and I complied: I let her descend upon my cock, and we both gasped as my knob entered her, and as she sank lower my shaft stretched her willing lips -- she was slick with her excitement, but also extremely tight, and I felt like I was cramming myself into her, such was the width and length of my own excitement. I almost felt like checking, asking if I was actually hurting her, but as though she heard my thoughts her eyes opened, and even through her gasping pleasure I saw the encouragement, the plea to not stop, to put it in all the way.

So I did. I let her fall, and fall, until she settled against the base of my shaft and I was in her, I was in her all the way... and I remembered there were other eyes on me, I sensed Valerie had a new requirement.

I looked to her, and at first I didn't understand what she was mouthing to me: 'burn her bound...'? 'Derm a ground...'?

"Turn... her... around," Valerie suddenly said, loud and clear.

We both froze, Janine and I. I shut my eyes against the sudden welling of shame and guilt; up to now I had been able to put most of it out of my mind, I hadn't dwelled on the reality of what I was doing to Janine for Valerie, but now it was all too real. I wasn't doing this with Janine -- I was doing it to her, under instruction. And I had never hated myself more than at that moment.

"Do it!" Valerie barked, and I complied: I span us about-face, ninety degrees so we could both look to Valerie, her hand buried deep in her trousers, her shirt torn open so she could caress her breasts, all of which she continued to do even in spite of our shock.

"There we are..." Valerie purred evilly, as her eyes crawled up and down us, drinking in the sight of Janine and I together so intimately. "Such a beautiful sight," Valerie added, in a contemptuous sneer.

"Jeremy?" Janine asked of me, tremulously, incredulously as she beheld Valerie -- and in that one word, in invoking my name, Janine managed to stab me with a thousand knives of guilt.

"That's right, my dear," Valerie crowed. "We've set you up. I told him to fuck you -- and so he did! Such a good little bitch he is," she added, most spitefully.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered to Janine, my head hung in shame, hiding behind her shoulder. "Janine: I'm so, so sorry..."

"Oh, you're not sorry at all," Valerie nearly snarled. "I'll bet your cock is just as hard as it was before I spoke -- if not harder! Isn't it, Janine? He's still got his big fat cock crammed hard up into you, and it's still hard! Isn't it!"

Janine nodded her reply, confirming the truth of it; my eyes were shut, daring not to see the horror I imagined on her face.

"Of course it is. He's an animal. He's nothing better than an animal, a pig, a tool! Nothing more!" Valerie spat at us. "Well, go on then, animal," she added, when I had nothing to say to that. "Go on. Fuck her."

My head snapped up, and I looked to Valerie. "What?" I spoke.

"Fuck her," she repeated. "Fuck that girl. Show her how much an animal you really are."

My eyes narrowed. "No," I told her. "I won't do it."

Valerie's eyes hardened too. "I told you not to tell me 'no'," she simmered. "Do it. Fuck her. Fuck her hard, right now -- or I'll destroy you. I'll do it. I'll finish you, and your marriage, and your wife and your life! Fuck her!!"

"NO!" I roared in return. "No I won't! I won't do it! I will not rape her -- I don't care! Do your worst!"

"Jeremy..." Janine began, but Valerie spoke over her.

"Don't you pull your cock out of her," Valerie warned, as I made to lift Janine clear -- to save her from the violation Valerie would have me inflict upon her. "If you pull your cock out of her, I will finish you, and I'll finish Janine too."

"Jeremy!" Janine spoke again, stopping me as I ignored Valerie and tried to lift her clear. "Jeremy -- it's okay..."

"Janine: no..." I tried to tell her. "I won't... I'm not gunna rape you, Janine, I don't care what she says—"

"But Jeremy, she'll tell Melinda!" Janine hissed at me. "And she'll have you fired! I can't have that, Jeremy. I won't let her do it."

My face was fallen, utterly aghast.

"It's okay, Jeremy," Janine tried to assure me. "It's okay..."

"Fuck her, Jeremy," Valerie ordered.

"Jeremy: it's okay..."

"Fuck her, Jeremy."

"Jeremy: I want this..." Janine whispered, and against all expectation, to my absolute surprise: that wonderful, dirty little glint was back in her eye. "Fuck me..." she breathed.

"Fuck her, Jeremy!" Valerie repeated, her tone taking on a new edge as she picked up on our exchange.

"Fuck me, Jeremy..." Janine entreated me, even as I continued to boggle at her.

"Fuck her, Jeremy!"

"Fuck me, Jeremy."

"Fuck her, Jeremy!!"

"Fuck me, Jeremy!"

"Jeremy...!"

"Jeremy: FUCK ME!" Janine cried, and I was doing it, I was already doing it: I was fucking her. All my shock and horror at where I thought the situation had landed was gone; I knew now, that Janine wanted it, she truly wanted it. Not only did she not want Melinda to find out about us, not only did she not want me to lose all and everything I had -- Janine wanted me to fuck her, to fuck her long and hard, in front of our boss. She wanted it. 

And who was I to refuse?

I fucked her. I grabbed her, stepped forwards and braced her bottom against the computer desk, and I fucked her; my cock slipped in and out, in and out, I fed my gorging throbbing monster -- riled up to new heights, feeling bigger and harder than I had ever felt it before -- I fed it in and out of her, nearly pummelling her with my force.

And she loved it. She rode me, she grasped me and took me in, her hands held onto my body and her cunt held onto my cock, and she let herself go; her pleasure built, it mounted, doubled and doubled on itself, her orgasm grew and swelled and painted her face in an exquisite picture of incredible, unbelieving gratification...

...and we both turned to watch, as Valerie tore her clothes away, she dumped her trousers and tore at her knickers and threw away her shirt and her bra, and she stood as naked as Janine and I as she treated herself roughly, without pause, slapping at her clit and pounded at least three fingers into and out of her cunt, her glorious breasts rising and falling as she gasped and moaned and groaned almost in time with Janine...

...and as I watched their orgasms build, as I watched Janine getting ready to come for me and Valerie racing to match her, my own orgasm took root; suddenly it was there, it was upon me and ready to blow, as I grabbed a firm hold of Janine and hoped like hell she was up-to-date with her birth control...

...and as one, the three of us came, we came together, we came hard; we yelled and we hollered and we screamed as we came all at once, as my hips pounded into Janine's and I thrust my steel-hard monstrous rod into and out of her glorious hot wet cunt, as Janine's body went stiff and she reared back and she howled out her pleasure with her fingers falling to her clit, rubbing her up into an additional lather of frenzy, and as we both watched Valerie as she fell back against the doorway and she came, she held open her sex and let us watch us she pounded herself with all the fingers of her hand, her thumb pressing madly into her clit and mashing it without mercy.

We stayed at our peak seemingly forever, thrusting and rubbing and pounding ourselves and each other; eventually we were spent, we collapsed on ourselves and we simply lay where we fell, gasping for breath, tumbling back to earth and to reality.

I held Janine in my arms, and we looked into each others' eyes; Janine's were full of wonder and thanks, but in mine I knew I had mostly a terrible gleam of trepidation -- I knew what Valerie was like, once she got over the afterglow.

I was soon proven right. Hardly had Valerie regained her breath, she suddenly leapt to her feet and, quite unexpectedly, she made for the computer -- the very one on which I had committed my seven hundred hours of sins; and before we knew what she was doing, she had disconnected a flash drive and -- oh no -- a webcam.

"I can't believe you didn't find this," Valerie told me. "I'd hardly even hidden it! Ahh, Jeremy," she grinned derisively, "you're a pretty thing, but you're dumb as shit."

"What's on the drive?" Janine asked, tremulously.

"Oh, just the footage of everything you two just did," Valerie told us. "And if either of you breath a word of any of this: I'll post it on the company forum, for all to see. Janine, you will be humiliated, in all your naked slutty glory; and Jeremy, now I have your password, I can post it under your profile, and you'll be fired."

"But..." Janine piped up; she would have to do the speaking for both of us, for I had lost all abilities for cogent thought or conversation. "But won't it out you too -- won't you be on the video?"

"No no, silly girl: I angled the camera so it couldn't see the doorway. Ahh," sighed Valerie, with heavy self-satisfaction: "Now I have you both where I want you. See ya." And pausing only to regather her clothes, she left.

I could have cried. "Oh no..." I breathed. "Janine: I'm so sorry... I knew she'd do something like this, I should have looked for the camera—"

"Just hang on a sec," Janine instructed; she dismounted my still-twitching cock and went to the computer, apparently looking for something on its hard drive.

"Aha!" she cried, victoriously. "Jeremy: I think we might just be able to gain the upper hand here..."