Blackmailing Jessica Ch. 03

Briefly she considered leaving work, skipping the meeting entirely. After Bowman's comment earlier, she knew that wasn't an option. This was an important client, and she had a responsibility to the firm. To her career.

He'll punish me if I disobey. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through her, and she realized she was breathing heavily. This couldn't be turning her on -- she wasn't some craven, despicable slut!

"I hate you, Drew," she muttered. She couldn't take the chance of the DVD ending up in Bowman's mailbox. It was only another obstacle to overcome, no different than any other she had conquered. Resolutely she squirted the lubricant up and down the length of the loathsome thing, coating it liberally. Bending over, she spread her ass cheeks with one hand and pressed the tip of the slick rubbery missile inside her with the other.

Her rectal muscles tightened and she forced herself to relax, gasping shallowly. She eased it slightly out then back in even further, feeling it stretching her. That seemed to be less painful and she began sliding it in and out, pushing further inside her with every stroke, and causing a rush of excitement between her legs.

She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror, grimacing as she eased the plug even deeper. Her mother was undoubtedly spinning in her grave right about now. Firmly, she pressed the slippery, intrusive thing up deeply inside her.

Panting, she placed both palms on the counter, the adrenaline rush making her heart race. It was firmly lodged within her, the muscles tight around the smaller flange at the base. It felt like a brick in her ass. It made her want to pee, especially with the anxiety flooding through her. She winced as she stood up, feeling it move. This would be even more difficult than she had anticipated. After pulling up her pantyhose she smoothed the skirt down around her legs.

Cringing with every step, she left the bathroom and gathered her laptop and a few other things she'd need for the meeting. With one hand on her office door, she took several deep breaths. The diabolical object invaded every aspect of her consciousness, that impaling shaft deep inside her, the ring of muscle stretched painfully around its base. Her heart was pounding.

It would take all of her concentration just to appear normal. It's showtime, Jessica. Composing herself, she put a smile on her face and opened the office door.

A quick right, then down the hall about fifty feet to the stairs. It rapidly became apparent that she couldn't walk at her normal swift pace -- she had to move rather cautiously, lest the horrible thing shift too suddenly inside her. She imagined it slipping out, leaving a horrible bulge in her panties. Or worse yet, having to bend over and pick the despicable thing off the carpet. What would she do with it then?

She glanced to either side out of the corners of her eyes, checking to see if anyone was looking at her. The Ice Princess, right here in the office, with a rubber plug shoved up her ass. A hot flush stole into her cheeks.

She passed a junior ad executive in the hallway. "Good afternoon, Jessica," he said. She nodded abruptly, not making eye contact, as she continued down the hall. It seemed she was forced to move her butt back and forth even more than normal as she walked in her high heels, and she desperately hoped it wasn't obvious.

After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the stairway. The conference room was on the next floor down. She winced a bit as she took the first couple of steps. It was very difficult to do even the slightest thing, with that repulsive object inside her! Goddamn you, Drew. I'll get you for this. Awkwardly she made her way down the stairs.

At the bottom, she held onto the railing for a moment, waiting for her heart to stop pounding. A file folder slipped from under her arm and dropped to the floor, its contents scattering across the carpet. She struggled not to cry out, whimpering slightly as she bent down, and began gathering the papers with her free hand.

"Here, let me help you with that." She jumped, startled, not having heard anyone approach. Drew crouched down next to her, gathering up the file and putting the stack of papers inside.

She could feel the plug move inside her as she stood up, a tingle of excitement and embarrassment making her blush. He was wearing a denim shirt with a colorful tie, cartoon characters or something. He handed her the file, the familiar little grin on his face. Under his gaze, her face reddened even more.

The last thing she wanted was for them to be seen together. She looked around, but the hallway was deserted. "Goddamn it, Drew," she hissed. "You've gone too far. Not at work, do you understand?"

"I wasn't sure you'd go through with it," he said in a low voice. "Good girl, Jessica. I like it when you're obedient."

"I'm not some little puppet you can manipulate!" she whispered fiercely. "You've had your fun, you got the job, now it's over. This stops now. Got it?"

He glanced up and down the hall. "Come here," he said quietly. Gripping her arm firmly above the elbow, he steered her into a little alcove containing a copier and several vending machines. There was a door at the back, leading to a small closet where office supplies were stored. She stumbled as he pushed her into the closet and closed the door behind them.

The space was tiny, and Jessica fought to control the claustrophobia welling up inside. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Now, look, Drew --"

Without saying a word, he took the laptop and file folders from her trembling hands and set them on a shelf. She gasped as he spun her around. He put his hand around her neck, pinning her back against him. His hand was large, and he held her easily. She remembered his strength, pinning her down on the car hood in the garage. Although his grip wasn't restricting her breathing, she could feel the authority behind it.

Jessica was terrified. She had a special fear of being strangled or drowned, and she desperately tried not to make a sound. Her muscles were locked in panic. He could easily squeeze the life out of her if he chose.

"Just relax," he murmured in her ear as he pulled her skirt up. He spanked her sharply, making her whimper in protest. "No pantyhose from now on, girl," he whispered as he caressed her ass. "I want you in stockings. Understand?" He spanked her again firmly.

"Yes," she whispered hoarsely. Goddamnit, her butt stung!

He gave a low chuckle. "I may even let you wear panties occasionally, if you're a good girl."

She groaned softly as he reached down and teased the plug gently. He pressed it further inside her, forcing her to her toes. "You like that, don't you, slut?" he murmured.

Slut. The dangerous nature of her predicament only seemed to excite her further. She moaned as he reached around her waist, rubbing her lower belly, before sliding his hand inside her pantyhose.

"What a naughty slut you are, Jessica," he chided, gently teasing her. She was unbelievably aroused. She squirmed, pressing back against him, feeling his own excitement. He could certainly tell. The humiliating wetness between her legs was obvious.

It seemed he knew exactly how to touch her, just the right pressure. His hand was firm around her neck, pinning her against him. She panted shallowly, grabbing onto the shelf in front of her with both hands, as a shudder went through her body.

"Please don't," she begged, her voice breaking. "Not like this."

He slid a finger inside her and she gasped at the sensation. She was ready to explode.

"Your slutty cunt belongs to me now, Jessica. I own you," he murmured.

Cunt. How she hated that word. Her body spasmed underneath his touch.

"You're a filthy little slut, aren't you Jessica?" he continued. "Tell me what a filthy slut you are."

"God, no," she pleaded. He had such control over her! It's true, Jessica, you are a filthy slut. Her body was betraying her. She despised herself for it, for her weakness.

"Say it," he whispered.

"I'm a ..." She tried to force the words out.

"Say it!" he repeated.

"I'm a filthy slut," she whimpered. "Your filthy slut!" She thrust her hips forward, against his hand. He released his hold on her neck and clamped his hand tightly over her mouth as she climaxed explosively.

As she jerked and squirmed, the intensity of his domination and his control excited her even more. She was perversely grateful for his hand muffling her cries -- surely, someone would have heard her out in the hallway. It seemed to go on and on forever, wave after wave of pleasure cresting inside her. Her muscles contracted around the intrusive rubber thing lodged inside her, pulling it even deeper. Finally it subsided. She became aware that he was keeping her standing, one hand around her waist. Her trembling legs could barely support her, and she leaned against the shelves, gasping for breath.

Her lips felt numb, and she doubted she could speak. She had never experienced anything like that in her life. Of course, she'd had orgasms before, but that didn't even seem the right word for what she'd just gone through. The totality of it shocked her, and frightened her a bit. Every nerve was tingling.

He released his hold over her mouth. "Good girl, Jessica," he murmured in her ear.

His praise sent a second orgasmic rush through her belly. She had complied with his disgusting order and Drew was pleased with her. She felt satisfied and somehow proud, still too woozy for her diligent rationality to retort. Dazed, she tried to gather herself together.

As he released his hold on her she turned around, stumbling a bit, leaning against the shelves for balance. He lifted her chin so he could see her face, then gently kissed her on the lips. "We'd better get going," he whispered. "Or we'll miss the meeting."

The meeting! She had forgotten all about it! Desperately she looked at her watch. They were nearly thirty minutes late!

"Don't worry, Jessica." He chuckled. "They moved the meeting back a half hour. You should check your e-mail more often. We're right on time."

He turned and opened the closet door and stepped out into the copier room, whistling to himself. Jessica tried to compose herself. Her entire body was flushed. She gathered up her laptop and the files, and then followed him out the door. The horrible plug continued to wordlessly violate her, reminding her of its presence with every step. Shakily, she followed Drew down the hall to the conference room.

The entire meeting was a blur. She hardly said a word, tapping aimlessly at the keys on her laptop as everyone discussed the upcoming advertising campaign. Jessica was the only woman in the room -- she felt intensely female, waiting for someone to notice, to ask if she was all right. Maybe they could even smell her.

Crossing and recrossing her legs as the meeting progressed, she desperately tried to appear nonchalant and unaffected. Every now and then Drew would glance over at her, that little grin on his face. She looked away, blushing hotly. and squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

Finally, mercifully, after more than an hour, it was over. The client, a short Asian man (she couldn't even remember his name), shook her hand and made some comment about looking forward to working with her in the future. She smiled and said something in reply, unable to think coherently. Without even looking at Drew she left the room, hoping she could maintain some semblance of normalcy until she got to her office.

Her whole world was coming apart. Getting up the stairs was especially difficult and she gripped the railing tightly, willing herself not to cry out. If anyone said a word to her, she felt like she would burst into tears. You can do this, Jessica. Just get to the office and you're home free. Gritting her teeth, she climbed up the last few steps.

Once in her office, she stumbled gratefully to the bathroom and bent over the counter. After pulling down her pantyhose, she eased the repugnant thing out of her, gasping in relief. She dropped it into the sink with a grimace. Legs trembling, she sat down on the toilet, the seat cold against her bare butt.

She put her face in her hands and fought the urge to weep uncontrollably. Filthy little slut ... I own you. The words reverberated in her head. Cunt. Jessica took a deep breath and stood up, pulling her pantyhose up over her hips. She reached back and massaged her ass gently, wincing a little.

Her image in the mirror looked haggard. "I hate you," she whispered defiantly. She had to regain control. It wasn't a game anymore. This was rapidly escalating to the point where it could destroy them both. She wasn't a filthy slut -- she was a smart, ambitious, career woman. No man had ever gotten the upper hand against her, and she'd be damned if he would be the first.

To be continued ...