It was not enough that I obeyed, despite my workload.

It was not enough that for 4 hours I had that fat-ended wooden dildo wedged in my cunt and a vibrating bullet intermittently buzzing against my clit. At his command.

It was not enough that my orgasm count was up to four.  Four!  We had only reached that number once before.

It didn’t matter that I had work to do.

It didn’t matter that the restrooms are not private.

It didn’t matter that my freshly-post-orgasm cunt was tighter than hell.

Nope.

Not at all.

He instructed me to go right at that very minute, as I was still recovering with a flushed chest and accelerated heart rate. Go to the restroom and fuck myself with the dildo. Not a little bit, not just farther in and tiny outward pulls.

Nope.

Not at all.

Fully out, fully in. Each movement my eyes widened and I tried so hard to be silent as the fullness violated my tender cunt. Aware of the sloppy wet sounds it was making. Aware that the first time I pulled it fully out I felt all the liquid from my previous 4 orgasms leak down my ass. I held my breath and listened for the creak of the door. Listened for footsteps. Confident that I heard nothing, no one, I grasped the short handle and channeled his rough intentions; I did it the way he would. The first minute was difficult, every inward thrust was an intrusion. It was not an easy self-fuck; every stretching-out shove into my cunt was a bit painful. It took effort. It was a good pain though as the fat wooden bulb pushed against my G-spot. Then it was somewhat easier, my cunt was opening for this unforgivably large dildo, and every firm push to my G-spot made me gasp a little, made my eyelids flutter a little.

Such depravity. Locked in a corner stall with my jeans and panties around my ankles and legs spread wide in a slutty fashion, I followed orders. Soon I made my best effort to look normal on the outside and I pulled up my jeans and panties, making sure to replace the bullet to it’s correct spot – firmly nestled between my lips, pressing against my clit.

Two hours later…..

It still was not enough that I continued to obey, despite my workload.

It still was not enough that he ripped another orgasm from my spent body. Five – a new record.

It didn’t matter that the restroom would  be even busier given the time of day.

It didn’t matter that I was sore and tired.

Nope.

Not at all.

He demanded one last fuck, one last violating act of work-time debauchery. His intent was to leave me stretched out and sore as a reminder the rest of the night; a reminder of his power and ownership.  I gasped at the pain as I slowly pulled the dildo out and flushed in embarrassment at the wet suction-y noise that followed. I walked a thin line of being as silent as possible and as rough as possible while other women were going about their business around me. When it hurt less and was less of a violation to my body I stopped. Wiped it clean and put it in its velveteen bag. Wrapped the cord of the bullet vibe around itself and tucked both toys back in my little black zippered pouch. As I walked back down the hall to my desk, my shoes clicking on the tiles and an innocent black bag tucked under my arm, I smiled serenly at a passing coworker and bid her goodnight.

And she has no idea.

Not at all.

Related posts:

1. Whore on the Floor
2. A deeper shade of slut
3. Wanton Greedy Slut
4. Necessary Roughness