Corporate Slave

Excerpt

Cassie rolled her eyes upwards in a vain attempt to see the expression on Ben’s face. His cock wedged firmly in her throat meant she couldn’t tilt her head. Her lips were spread wide, tongue hanging out, the tip of it just caressing his scrotum. She’d taken the whole length, but it left her no room to maneuver. Her field of vision was entirely filled with a light fuzz of ginger pubic hair, a few inches of skin, and the bottom edge of his T-shirt—a lurid baby-blue color that didn’t suit his skin tone. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t giving the blowjob because she liked his dress sense, but because he was going to give her a Dress.

She hoped Ben would come soon, not because she wasn’t enjoying the blowjob, but because she was due at work soon. He was engorged and she could taste the pre-cum ejaculate already, but he seemed to be holding off on her. She gave a throaty growl and took his entire length, thankful she had full control over her gag reflex. His hand reached out and grabbed her hair, stopping her from pulling back. That wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was a man thing, wasn’t it—wanting to feel in control?

That was okay. She preferred it when she wasn’t in control. Sexually, at least. It gave her a sense of release.

Cassie made a gug ggg sound deep in her throat, which she meant as a question: what the fuck do you want me to do?

“Let’s make it real,” Bob grated. Then, raising his voice: “Hey, Luke, handcuff her for me, will ya? Hands behind her back!”

Luke, sitting on the other side of the room, looked up from the screen and removed his earpieces. Cassie caught a glimpse of a nude woman hanging by her wrists, legs splayed, flanked by two men in military uniforms. She was struggling, her body bearing the marks of abuse with a whip. She might have been screaming. Hard to tell whether the tinny sound coming from the earpieces now in Luke’s hand was screaming or music.

Luke hit a button on the remote, freezing the screen image, and picked over the litter of beer cans beside him until he found the cuffs.

She didn’t struggle. Not seriously, anyway. A token wriggle or two so he had to work at getting the cuffs on.

When her wrists were secured, Ben dragged her bodily forward, still on her knees, so he could sit in an armchair with her mouth still wrapped around his cock. It was hard to balance because Cassie’s own body weight pushed her down onto the cock, and she was able to come up only when Ben pulled back on her hair.

He grunted in satisfaction and pumped her head up and down. She tried to relax, knowing that at this rate he’d at least come quickly. He was, after all, fucking the fantasy in his head as much as he was fucking her mouth. She concentrated on getting her throat to relax and keeping it as lubricated as possible.

Ben was suddenly gasping for breath, much like Cassie herself, and released his flood. And it was a flood, filling her throat and sinuses but with more plastered on her face. He clutched at her straw-blonde hair tight enough to make her yelp, then relaxed enough that she could extract his cock from her mouth and try to suck in air. He pushed roughly on one shoulder and she fell back heavily on the carpet, lying on her side. Every time she coughed it seemed to bring up his fluid from her lungs. She sneezed, and gobs of it spattered the front of her T-shirt.

Oh well. It wasn’t like she’d be wearing it at work.

Ben was looking gray in the face. He reached for his inhaler, took a hit from it. She was relieved to see his breathing return to normal.

“One thing about you, Cass, you do good head.” He raised his voice. “Hey, Luke? You wanna do her as well?”

Luke was back watching the screen. The woman was bent over now, hands tied behind her back and lifted way above her head. In that bent position she was taking one guy in her mouth and one in her ass.

Luke waved vaguely at Ben. “It’s okay, man, it’s your deal.” He reached down absently to stroke Cassie’s hair. “Next time, girl, yeah?”

She struggled to her knees, her back to Luke, presenting him with the cuffs.

“Can I have these off now? Otherwise I can’t open my purse to pay him.”

Luke twisted the key in the cuffs’ locking mechanism, barely taking his eyes off the moving images on the screen.

Wordlessly, Cassie found her purse and extracted six notes, placed them on the coffee table by the armchair. The dress cost seven blowjobs, but she’d only had six with her and the seventh had been the for-real one.

She couldn’t even remember why a hundred note had come to be called a “blowjob”. Something to do with a celebrity whore being caught with some actor, and what he’d paid for oral sex, maybe thirty years ago. Before Cassie had been born, anyway. Everything had gone up in price since then, but strangely the price of an actual blowjob had remained about the same. Laws of supply and demand? How could that be?

Ben pointed to a cardboard box by the door. “In there. Pick one up on your way out. Choice of red, white, black or blue.”

She rearranged her skirt, used a tissue to take as much as possible of the gunk off her T-shirt. And, to Luke, “What is that you’re watching?”

He shrugged. “It’s a new pay site. Except it’s not just porn, it’s real prisoners. What you see is an actual prison somewhere, run by one of the corporate’s. The chicks that go there are all dissidents, you know, enemies of the state. They run live feeds from the interrogations. You get to see them tortured until they confess their crimes and stuff.”

Cassie shook her head sadly. Guys were so gullible.

But it was just as well. Her job depended on it.

On the way out she selected a black Dress. It came in a package about the size of a regular tube of hair conditioner. She dropped it into her bag. It was the newest must-have fashion item—hence the name, which always sounded like it should have a capital letter. But if that was the size of the packaging, there wasn’t going to be a lot of it.

All the more flesh to see, then, and all the easier to take off… In the right circumstances, of course.