He grinned evilly as the machine pistoned into me back and forth again and again, my br**sts swaying as I succumbed to its rhythm.
“You look beautiful like this, little slave. Your face so flushed and bright. Your body so pliant and eager. I want you to cum for me soon.”
The bulge in his pants was just at mouth level. I longed for him to feed his length to me, to taste him as I knelt there, helpless and bound. Instead he moved back, leaving me with a file in each hand.
“Look these over, will you?”
I whined as the machine picked up speed, f**king me in a way that made my fists clench and my back arch beneath the onslaught. Mr. Drake laughed, the sound making the hairs on my neck stand on end. He was loving this, and the thought made me cry out, my body responding to his presence, his control... His desire.
I shuddered as I came, my lips forming his name as delicious heat spread through me, lighting up every nerve ending like stars in the night sky.
He was back at his desk when I came back down, my body overly sensitive and aching for more. His eyes burned into me, and I knew what he wanted. I awkwardly flipped open the files with each hand, cuffed as I was, and tried to focus on the papers within. My vision narrowed as the machine sped up again, pulsing as it drilled into me.
“Please!”
Mr. Drake just watched me, a wolfish grin plastered to his face.
“Get to work, Isabeau.”
I looked down, moaning as the dildo passed in and out, rubbing my tender folds, the friction inside of me making my pleasure rise once again. I focused as best I could on the first receipt, my eyes blurring with tears. I didn’t know if I could cum again, I was so sensitive, but I knew I was helpless to resist.
My eyes darted back to the stack of papers.
Cocktails at Morton’s Pier Yacht Club. I twitched my fingers, shuffling the page to the side.
Golf at the Hayworth Greens. I moved it to look at the next.
Four cases of toner from Office Warehouse. Next receipt.
Coffee with clients. Next receipt.
Reams of paper. Next....
OH GOD...
All the words danced and swirled as my body contracted, the piston whirring in and out, faster and faster, electricity coursing through me until I couldn’t stand it.
“Fuuuuck!”
I screamed as I came a second time, my thighs shaking as I convulsed again and again. Mr. Drake’s eyes were scanning one of the earnings reports, but his lips twitched up into a smile at the sound of my cries.
“Please...”
I felt wrung out and too tender to even think about another orgasm. Every rasp of the black rubber against my lower lips sent jolts of sensation spiking through me, pleasure so intense it became pain. I was a raw nerve, exposed and delicate, being treated most indelicately by the heartless machine plowing into me as long as Mr. Drake saw fit to torture me like this.
I glanced down at the papers again, trying to distract myself from the pulsing inside the very heart of me, making my eyes water and my limbs tremble.
Dinner at the Morton’s Pier Yacht Club.
Software license purchases.
Office supplies.
Gift cards for clients.
Edible arrangements.
Next, next, next...
I was at the very edge of my limits, and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ward off the heightening spiral of overwhelming feeling so like pleasure, but as ruthlessly sharp as the edge of a knife, carrying me mercilessly toward another peak.
I cried then, tears running down my cheeks, wanting to pull away, but unable to budge. I didn’t know if I could handle it if I came again. Maybe my atoms would fly apart, or my body would simply alight, the sensation burning me alive. Maybe I’d combust right here, setting his carpet on fire. Maybe, I’d... maybe...
All thought became impossible as I screamed again, wailing like a wounded animal as the orgasm took me, crashing over me with the force of a tsunami. In the distance, I heard Mr. Drake’s voice, although the words had no meaning. Not while I was like this. Not while I was a slave to feeling, a human-sized nerve, and nothing more.
“I found it. Oh God, Isa, I found it here. He’s taken it all. Everything.”
The machine whirred to a stop, the dildo inching its way out of me with a wet plop that matched how I felt. Like a puddle, poured out over the restraints, a spill on the office floor instead of Isabeau.
Strong hands unhooked the restraints and pulled me gently to my feet. I leaned on Mr. Drake, unable to stand just yet.
“Oh, my sweet Isabeau. I wish I could linger in this moment with you, but we can’t. I need you to come back to me, little slave. Come back and get dressed. I need your help. Now, more than ever.”
He held me tight for a moment, supporting me and rubbing my back, letting me come back to being myself again. When I could finally stand, his words caught up to me.
“What do you mean ‘he’s taken it all?’ Lex is just outright embezzling?”
“He was, but it’s worse than that. The pension fund is completely cleaned out. He must have been planning this for ages, but... I just hope we’re not too late to stop him. The employees’ retirement fund...”
I slipped my underwear on as quickly as I could, and reached for my skirt. “We need to call the police.”
“We have to find him now, Isa. He must have planned his withdrawals to coincide with the investor weekend, so I wouldn’t be watching the accounts. If he made a move like this, then he’s probably trying to leave the country. Today, if he can.”
I slipped on my bra and shoved my arms through the sleeves of my blouse. “We need to call the airports. Tell them to be on the lookout for him, and then call the police.” I looked around for my heels. Mr. Drake handed them to me.
“I’ll drive. You call.” He handed me his cell phone and grabbed the file he’d been examining.
We were jogging out of his office toward the elevator bank when a thought hit me.
“What if he knew we’d be in the office today? Especially after your fight last night, he must know you’d be suspicious of him.”
He stabbed at the elevator button, his posture rigid. His hand drummed impatiently against his leg. “What does it matter if he knew we’d be here?”
“If he thought ahead, he would know we’d call the airlines and the authorities first thing, to try to trap him. He has to leave the country to retrieve the money, right?”
Mr. Drake’s jaw tightened. “Yes. He would have wired it into an offshore account.”
“Then what if he’s not going to the airport? What if he has another way to leave?”