Tina (She’s all in) Ch 05

Tina lies over the chair, his cock in her mouth, once again licking it clean for him. She wonders what other uses he will find for her and what more disgrace and humiliations he will find to dump on her. She wonders how much she will take before she tells him no. A part of her whispers that she’ll never tell him no, that she’s to be his plaything for the rest of her life, being constantly impaled by his cock and ‘hoist by her own petard’, as it were.

Again her mind wanders back to the day they’d met. After failing to quiet her urges in the bathroom, by her own hand, Tina had been distracted, the rest of the day. She’d left early to prepare for her second assault on Jeremy Branson.

A stop on the way home for a mani-pedi, would give her a fresh coat of lacquer on her nails and a few shades of difference in the color. Another stop at the cleaners to pick up a particular dress. She’d left it for cleaning and alteration in the event that there would be some social event to attend with regard to Branson.

Then it’s home and on to the beauty ritual. First a short ‘power nap’ to make sure she’s all rested and alert. The steam machine for steam facials had cost a fortune, so she used it every day. Next was the bath, with the best moisturizing, best smelling oils available.

She relaxed in the tub, beauty mask smeared over her face and cucumber slices on her eyes. Even as here tense muscles relaxed, another tenseness was building deep inside her. She lowered her hand beneath the water, to lend a hand to the man in the boat. The oils in the water help. A small dab of waterproof lube helps even more. Slowly her fingers circle the little man. They stroked up and down the lips, then slipped inside, trying to reach that secret button, while the heel of her hand stroked the clit.

Her other hand reached for the controls for the whirlpool, turning it on, she positioned herself in just the right spot, with practiced ease. That hand then reached for her ample bosom and began began fondling each breast in turn, tweaking the hardening nipples in time with the stroking of her clitoris.

She started out slow and gradually increased the speed and the pressure. Faster and faster, rougher and rougher until her fingers were flying in and out and she was pulling painfully at her nipples.

Her breathing quickened as her masturbation reached a fevered pitch. Her favorite fantasies streamed through her mind as though she were flipping through the channels on the TV.

Suddenly, just as she was reaching the magic moment, one image came to mind and seemingly froze before her eyes… it was Jeremy Branson’s infuriating, patronizing smile.

She bolted upright in the tub, splashing water on the floor and losing the cucumber slices beneath the bubbles.

“Oh, HELL no, that’s not going to happen!”, she said aloud as she slammed her fist down into the water… succeeding only in splashing more water on the floor.

Tina never masturbated while thinking of any man she knew… she feared it would put her in the wrong state of mind, later, when she was busy manipulating him. And she damned well intended to have Mr. Branson eating from her hand by the end of the night.

She hit the whirlpool controls, grabbed the hand shower, washed her hair, removed the mask, rinsed off the bubbles and wrapped herself in a towel, then went to get ready for Branson.

As she walked down the hallway of his hotel, she checked herself one last time in a mirror there, before approaching his door. She went down the checklist: The hair was styled and every hair was in place. The makeup was just a little too heavy… just enough to give her that slightly slutty look. The little black Armani dress was cut down to here and up to there, showing just a hint too much cleavage at the top and giving the barest glimpse of the lacy tops of the black silk stockings below, when she walked. Or when she ‘accidentally’ crossed her legs the wrong way while sitting. Finally, the Louboutin shoes with their red soles and heels that were a touch too high.

Everything was perfect. Tina was ready for battle.

The only thing out of place was that nagging tingle from down below, due to her earlier attempts to satisfy it being frustrated.

She moved down the hallway to the door of his room, knocked and stepped back to take up a perfect pose. And waited. She could hear movement inside and was certain she heard someone come near the door. But nobody answered. Long moments passed, then she knocked again and went back to her carefully considered pose. Again she waited. Again there was no answer.

She’d checked. She knew he was in there. Why wasn’t he answering? She could HEAR someone in there! What the fuck? She was starting to get annoyed as she knocked for the third time, then tried to get back to her pose. She was too aggravated to get it right, though. The heels were a touch uncomfortable, being new and she was starting to feel self conscious just standing there.

Just as she was shifting from one foot to the other, the door swung open. Branson stood there with that maddening smile on his face.

“I heard you the first time”, he said jovially, “Come on in.” “You’re certainly an impatient, little thing”, he continued.

He walked back into the suite, without a backward glance to her, as she followed. He stopped short and suddenly turned around. Tina almost plowed into him. She stopped just short, then almost fell, as her ankles became unsteady in the heels.

He stood there, just inches away and gave her a slightly puzzled look, as she struggled to stay upright.

The amused smile slowly began to return, “You seem a bit nervous, Tina… is something wrong?”

“No, Jeremy, nothing at all”, she replied as she tried to get her composure, not to mention her hair, back under control.

“Mr. Branson”, he corrected her.

“Umm, wha… excuse me?”, she stammered, more than a hint of her frustration getting into her voice.

He turned and started to walk once again across the room, speaking over his shoulder, “I’m accustomed to a certain degree of respect from underlings and subordinates”, he stated nonchalantly. “You know, things like NOT having them trample me, and being addressed as ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Branson’… things like that.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Branson, I’m sorry… the shoes are new”, she rattled off, entirely too fast. She was losing it, here and she knew it. She had to get back on track… back in control.

“I’m sure they are”, he said in a bored tone, as he stepped to the bar and made himself a drink.

“So, what is it that you want, Tina?”, then continued, ” I DO have things to do, so if there’s something you want?”

“Umm… your pen…”, she stammered, as she dove into her purse, trying to find the offending object. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, even as another type of heat starts to rise from below. She had deliberately put it at the bottom of the bag, planning to raise one leg to rest the bag on her knee to support the purse while she looked for it, thereby ‘accidentally’ flashing a bit more thigh than was seemly. but when she had gotten flustered, she had forgotten the plan.

She continued, “You forgot your pen in our meeting room, today, I was just going to drop it off to you, it’s a rather expensive one.” Finding the pen at the bottom of her bag, she held it up. A slight shiver went up her spine as she caught sight of herself in the mirror behind the wet bar. She was standing there with a silly, triumphant look on her face from having found the pen… much like a child hoping to be praised for an accomplishment. Her carefully coif-ed hair was mused just enough to spoil the effect and her dress was just a bit skewed from her near fall. It had ridden up to show just a bit too much of the stocking tops. It had also ridden down, allowing just a bit of one nipple to peek out above the neckline. The whole ‘classy slut’ look she’d so carefully planned had gotten a lot less classy and gone more toward the slut side.

She had stood there, looking like an idiot, the pen seeming to hang in the air of it’s own volition, as he started to circle her. He’d looked her up and down, as though appraising her… as though she were a piece of furniture he was thinking of buying for his living room.

“Now, Tina”, he scolded, “I think we both know I don’t forget things… especially not a jeweled pen that cost more than you made last year.” “Besides, I saw you take it so you’d have an excuse to come here.” “So, what do you want, Tina?”

“Wha.. well, I hoped we might talk about the deal…” she stammered.

“You came here dressed like that, to talk?”

Standing behind her, he had grabbed her upper arms and steered her closer to the mirror.

“You come to my hotel, dressed like a whore, returning an ink pen you stole… just so you could talk?”

“You do know this hotel has security cameras?” “You do know that the cost of that pen would qualify it as grand larceny?”

“What do you think your bosses would do, if I called off the deal because of their shady practices of sending the office whore over to try to fuck me into closing the deal?” “I could send along a copy of the security tape, to show you outside my door, striking your poses like a call girl.”

“What do you think that would do for your promising little career?”

“Or should I just call the police and have you arrested for solicitation?” “I wonder what the Bar Association  would think of that?”

Tears began to well up in her eyes, even as moisture of another type was building in her pussy. “My God”, she thought, “how did he maneuver me into this situation?”

That was when all the internal conflict had begun, as she answered herself, “He didn’t, you maneuvered yourself into this.”

Outloud: “Sol… solicitation?” “That’s crazy… it would never stick.”

“It doesn’t HAVE to ‘stick’ to make you the laughing stock of your profession.”

He reached around and started tracing her nipples through the thin fabric of the dress, then hooked a finger inside the neckline and slowly pulled it down to expose one of the now rock hard teats.

“So, what do you want, Tina?”, he whispered into her ear.

“I.. I just want to l leave, sir. ” “Please, let me leave and I won’t do this again… I swear.”

He exposed the other hardened nipple and began kneading them with his fingers. “This deal could make or break your career, couldn’t it, Tina?”

“OH SHIT!!”, she thought, “He’s going to blackmail me.” A shiver went up her spine. One part of her said it was from fear. The other side argued it was from lust. The spreading moisture in her thong was leaning toward the lust side.

Slowly and deliberately, he said, “What do you want, Tina?” “What do you really want?”

Standing there, watching in the mirror as he played with her nipples, her mind raced. Her heart raced. And her cunt throbbed. She had never felt so helpless, in her life. Never felt so degraded. Never felt so frightened.

“Never felt so horny!”, that inner voice stated.

“What do you want, Tina?”, he repeated.

And then she was shocked and awed when, for the first time, that slut side had taken over.

“I want you to fuck me, Sir.” She heard the words. She knew it was her own voice. She even saw her lips move, in the mirror. Still she couldn’t believe she’d said it.

She looked at her own image in the mirror and had scarcely recognized the creature staring back at her. The supremely confident corporate lawyer was gone. All that remained was this woman who looked more like a deer in the headlights. A slutty, disheveled thing. The hair was a mess. Her tits were hanging out of the top of her dress. And that damned pen… it was still hanging there at the end of her arm, as if she were trying to keep it from floating away.

“Put the fucking pen down!”, she yelled at herself. “Where?” “Where do I put it?” “I can’t reach the bar… I’m not going to drop it… what do I do with it?”

Later, she would kick herself for that internal squabble. With all that was happening, the only thing she could think of was the pen?

Her attention was called back to things outside her head, as he pinched both nipples sharply, sending an electric shock from those nipples, straight to her clit.

“Does the little slut want to be fucked?”, he teased.

“Y.. yes sir.”

“Say it”, he whispered commandingly.

“The little slut wants to be fucked”, she said, once again astonished by her own words.

He took a step back, then spun her around none too gently to face him.

“Take off the dress, Slut”, his tone made it clear this was NOT a discussion.

She reached behind her and un-zipped the dress and let it fall in a puddle around her feet.

“Now the thong.”, he’d told her.

She quickly worked the damp thong out of her ass and lowered it to the floor, with the dress.

He reached out and took the pen from her hand. At this point, she would have fucked him just for that small mercy.

Turning away from her, he went and seated himself in a chair some feet away.

“I want you on your hands and knees, Slut.”

She had hesitated, her mind almost clearing for a moment, she just needed a second to figure a way out of this.

He wasn’t going to give her that second, “Shall I just call the police, then?”, he asked as he reached for the phone.

“No, sir”, she squealed and quickly got down on all fours.

“Now crawl to me, you filthy little slut!”

She had no options. She knew it. She began to sniffle and snivel, as she crawled to him.

When she got close, he directed her to turn to one side. His hand came down on her backside with a sound like thunder. It felt like a bolt of lightning had hit her ass. It also seemed that it traveled straight to her vagina.

“OW!”, she screamed.

“Say ‘Thank you, Sir’ “, he instructed.


Another blow stung her cheek.

“Say ‘Thank you, Sir’ “, he repeated.

“Thank you, Sir” she said.

Another blow to her other cheek sent another bolt through her body and she almost came, on the spot.

“Thank you, Sir” She needed no prompting this time.

“That’s a good little slut”, he said as if praising a puppy for using the paper.

Then he’d stood up and taken of his trousers. He knelt down behind her, shoved her face to the floor, holding her ass in the air and plowed into her without warning.

There was no foreplay. No discussion.

He simply fucked her. Long, hard and repeatedly. He took what he wanted, without hesitation or concern for her.

It was the most brutal, horrifying, exciting, frightening, satisfying fucking she’d ever gotten, to that point in her life.

She lost count of how many orgasms she had.

That night was the first time he’d made her thank him for fucking her. Also the first time he’d made her lick him clean, afterward.

I t had taken two days before she could walk without pain.

Now, weeks later, tied over the chair, his cock is again in her mouth as she licks and sucks it clean, after yet another brutal fucking.

And thinking of that first time has started her pussy tingling all over again.

On to Part 6

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