The screen showed a very cute and lithe brunette tied nude to a wooden chair, her legs bent in a kneeling position and bound thigh to calf with leather straps. Her arms were also bound, but they were raised over her head, bent at the elbow and held tightly together by a similar strap, which raised and showed off her small perfectly shaped breasts. A Hitachi magic wand vibrator sat on the seat of the chair between her spread thighs, the large head shoved tightly against her bald pussy.
The girl’s face was contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony as the vibrator did its work on her.
He turned the volume of the computer up the tiniest bit, and she could faintly hear the girl’s cries.
He moved the cursor to the “X” at the corner of the screen, his hand staying on the wireless mouse, ready to click it off if anyone came by the door of the conference room.
The girl on the screen was being forced to cum over and over again by a man in a black robe. The girl was obviously multi orgasmic, and she was being required to announce when she climaxed by her torturer. The girl was gasping for breath between orgasms, begging the man to make it stop, but he only turned the intensity of the wand up higher.
She stared wordlessly as the girl on the screen writhed on the chair, straining against her bonds, her cries, no, screams of agonized pleasure sending a jolt of sensation straight to her own crotch. Her nipples hardened and she felt herself getting wet, her clit swelling and she squirmed in her seat, imagining herself in that position. She loved being sexually dominated, loved being treated rough, and the scene on the computer was hitting every note for her.
“You like that?” he asked her in a low whisper.
She nodded, transfixed by the scene on the screen.
She wriggled in her seat as she became more aroused, squeezing her thighs together. He noticed her nipples hardening through the thin fabric of her white blouse.
He saw her shifting in her seat and asked, “You’re getting wet, aren’t you?”
Again, she nodded, this time shifting her gaze from the screen to his eyes.
“Put your hand on your pussy,” he said, “give it a little squeeze.”
She glanced nervously towards the door of the conference room, looking to see if any of the other associates or secretaries were around. It was nearing the end of lunch, but anyone could pass by the door at any moment. It seemed quiet, so she moved her hand under the big mahogany table. She put her hand on her crotch, caressing her aching pussy through the thin fabric of her pants.
She inhaled deeply and her thighs involuntarily squeezed together in response to the warm wave of pleasure that coursed through her lower region at her touch.
“Good?” he asked.
“Fuck, yes…” she breathed.
“Rub your clit.” He said. “Rub that hard little clit.”
She let out a small grunt as she applied more pressure with her index finger, pushing down on the swollen nub through her pants.
“Oh…” she moaned softly, her eyes half closing and her head bowing slightly.
“Look at that girl on the screen,” he whispered. “Look at how he’s making that bitch cum over and over…you love that, don’t you? You’re imagining yourself like that, aren’t you?”
“Yeeess,” she whimpered, her fingers rubbing harder between her legs. Her other hand brushed up over her chest, stroking her thumb over her erect nipple.
“You want to cum?’ he asked.
“I can’t like this…not here…” she protested, glancing out to the hallway again.
“But do you want to…?” he pressed her.
“God, yes.”
“Then do it…Whore.”
Her eyes locked onto his at the word.
“Whore.” He repeated
He knew he had struck a chord with her.
“Whore. Fucking whore. You want to cum, don’t you, you little cumslut whore?”
She nodded.
“You like that word, don’t you-whore?”
“Yes.” The word came trembling out, her eyes never leaving his.
“Tell me you’re my whore…my dirty little whore.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, her hand still in her crotch, and then whispered, “I’m your dirty fucking whore.”
“And you want to cum, don’t you?”
“Yes…yes, I want to cum so badly,” she said, her voice low.
