Office Slut. Part 1

My name is Svetlana, I'm 25 years old, tall, 173 cm, toned, firm 'C-cup' breasts, slender 'legs for days', straight hair the color of 'dark chocolate', green eyes, lips slightly full, sensual. Not exactly the look of a nerd or someone with a red diploma, right? Yet that's exactly what I am. By the time I graduated university, I was called 'stuck-up' and 'untouchable'.

My story began at the end of last year, 2014, when rumors of a crisis started to spread. I worked at a large bank, as the head of one of the investment departments. There was no doubt the bank would survive the crisis. Nor was there any doubt about how costs would be cut

— through salary reductions and staff layoffs. It should be noted here that rarely does anyone get into such organizations just like that — husbands, lovers, dads, moms, and a whole list of solid reasons stand behind practically every employee, especially those holding even minor managerial positions.

In my case, a miracle happened or luck finally remembered me, but I got the job practically off the street — straight from university — the staff was expanding, one position remained vacant, the lowest and lowest-paid position in the department. Maybe none of the 'connected' people wanted to take such a salary, maybe they needed a workhorse who would do the work of four, or maybe my former boss simply saw potential in me. Either way, I didn't think long about it and happily started working. The former boss turned out to be a good guy, the kind they call 'decent'. He saw that I was on fire with work and tried to gradually promote me. So, about two years later, I became the head of the department.

And then he himself got promoted. And his place was taken by Matvey Alexandrovich — a young man of thirty, tall, effete, one pity — looks like a handsome prince, which can't be said for his character — domineering and petty, a lover of asserting himself, 'putting subordinates in their place', not shying away from personal attacks, a real energy vampire. In short, our 'fun' days began. Then Matvey Alexandrovich started gradually firing employees he didn't like, replacing them with his buddies. My turn came — he summoned me, as they say, to the carpet, said there were more suitable candidates for my position.

— "You, Sveta, are certainly a gifted girl, but I need something more. Come here, comment on this diagram," — and he lays out some sheets on the desk.

I approached, stood next to him to get a better look; spread out on the desk were BDSM photos, and he was stroking me below my back with his hand. I couldn't take it and slapped him with all my might.

— "Well, Sveta, you fool! Consider your dismissal question settled. You'll come crawling back to me begging for a positive reference, I'll give you a reference, bitch, you can be sure!"

I ran out of the office. Surprisingly, no one called me in the next day and everything was calm. A week passed. As I learned from gossip, Matvey had submitted a petition for my dismissal due to incompetence, but my former boss, who was now Matvey's immediate superior, rejected this petition and said he had no right to touch me.

Six months passed, I worked, Matvey nitpicked over trifles, spewed venom, made me work overtime, but nothing more. The crisis hit. As everyone expected, they started cutting staff. At first, I felt quite confident, but when I learned that my former boss had been transferred to another city, I realized I wouldn't stay here long, and started sending out resumes to other large companies and banks. Refusals came from everywhere, even though some of them had previously tried to recruit me themselves. I understood — Matvey kept his word, and his references about me were, to put it mildly, unflattering. And I desperately needed a job — I had a half-paid mortgage on a luxurious apartment in the center and a car loan. Working as a regular employee was out of the question — I simply wouldn't have enough to pay, they'd take the apartment and car, I'd be left alone in a strange city, without housing or means of subsistence. I kept going to work and prayed that Matvey wouldn't remember me. No such luck. On the third day, the phone rang with an imperious "come in".

On the way to his office, I thought about what to do. Of course, these weren't my first thoughts on the topic. In the end, the decision was made — I'll sleep with him, since he wants it so much. Ten minutes of endurance, and he'll finally leave me alone, maybe even promote me. With these thoughts, I knocked on his office door.

— "May I?"

— "Come in."

No "have a seat", fine, I'm standing. Matvey shuffles papers, pretends I'm not there, about ten minutes pass, I understand he's doing it on purpose. Finally, he looks up at me.

— "Have a seat, though the conversation won't be long," — and smirks, — "I'm informing you, as required, two weeks in advance of your layoff. You may go."

I didn't expect that turn. I thought he'd start harassing me again and all that. But, apparently, I had really hurt his pride that time, so much that he wants to humiliate me more than sleep with me.

— "You're still here? You're bothering me, I have a lot to do. You're free, I said." — And smiles sweetly.

— "Matvey Alexandrovich"

— "Hm?"

— "I am, after all, a good employee, responsible, diligent, my department always meets and even periodically exceeds plans, I'm asking you to give me a second chance."

— "Sveta, Sveta dear, a second chance — that's all childish babble, we're not in kindergarten and I'm not a teacher who's going to spank your bottom for misbehaving. As I said before, I have more suitable candidates for your position. That's all, it's business."

— "Well, what if... I... if I agree... to your previous conditions..."

— "What conditions? Are you playing riddles with me?"

I'm silent, not knowing how to say it.

— "I'm a busy man, Sveta dear, you're the one who's free as a bird now," — and laughs, — "don't waste my time, there are plenty of companies that would gladly take you, with such references," — laughs again, — "what did you say? Responsible and diligent? Good luck!"

I blush deeply and force out:

— "I agree to sleep with you!"

He bursts into laughter:

— "And you think a fuck with you is worth the pleasure of throwing you out like a stray dog? You think I don't know you called all the companies and they all refused you — all because, as I said, I gave you simply excellent recommendations. Now they won't even take you as a manager, decent firms won't even let you in the door!"

Tears are in my eyes, but there's no way out, either the street or this humiliation.

— "Matvey Alexandrovich, perhaps there are any options, any, with roughly my income preserved," — I switch to a whisper, tears streaming, — "I agree to anything, I simply have no choice..."

— "Any, you say? Stand up."

I stand up, he examines me like a live exhibit, I know I look sexy and a flicker of hope appears — not all is lost! His lust will take over!

— "Good-looking, bitch."

I grit my teeth, as no one in my life has ever dared to treat me like this.

He smirks.

— "Well, I have one option. But, as I said, simply fucking you won't give me any pleasure anymore. I have five such sluts a night. Still want to know what I'll offer you?"

I answer, silently moving my lips:

— "Yes"

— "The bank is trying to get out of the crisis, and I, as a person with creative and non-standard thinking, have been tasked with developing a plan of measures to increase revenue. My proposal — in-house elite whores, whom we will provide to VIP clients, guaranteeing complete satisfaction of any of their needs, anonymity, and access at any time, and they, in return, will attract investments specifically in our bank. So now I'm looking for candidates, you fit the external parameters quite well. I expect only one word in response — yes or no, any other proposal or question will be interpreted by me as no. So if you want to clarify details, only after your yes. And your income will remain at the same level."

I was simply in shock and couldn't even comprehend what was said. At the same time, I understood that for now, there were no other options.

— "Yes..."

I was as if in a delirium, it seemed like all this was happening in a nightmare.

— "Good. And now the second part of the interview. How many men have fucked you?"

— "What?"

— "Listen, Sveta, you're either stupid or a bitch who's really as proper as you look. That's over. You just agreed to become a whore, you'll be fucked as they want and where they want, and you shouldn't irritate me, or I might change my mind. And you know what irritates me? When what I want isn't done immediately!" — he was simply delighted with this whole situation, he managed not just to humiliate me once in return for his offense, but actually get me at his complete disposal and with my voluntary consent, even no — after I myself asked for it!

I'm waiting for the first and last time — how many — men — have — fucked — you!!

— "One"

— "You're lying"

— "No-no, really, just one, my ex-boyfriend, we broke up, I didn't have time for a relationship because of work" — my mascara ran down my face, I noticed black spots from tears on my blouse

— "Hmm... I thought with an ass like yours, you should have more experience in such matters. Well, okay, let's see what you can do. Get undressed!" — said Matvey, leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head.

With nervous movements, shaking from sobs I couldn't hold back, I started unbuttoning my blouse, then my skirt, threw them on the floor, hesitated under his mocking gaze, took off my bra, restrained myself from covering my breasts with my hands, pulled down my stockings with my panties, got tangled in them with my heel, finally, threw them aside too.

— "Yes... Climb onto the desk, get on your knees, back to me"

A visitor's desk was placed against Matvey's massive oak desk, so it formed a T-shape. I scrambled onto the visitor's desk, stood as he said.

— "Now rest your head on the desk, use your hands to slightly spread your buttocks."

I started wailing out loud, my hands were trembling, but I knew that one act of disobedience — and I'd be on the street. Nothing followed next. I stood like that and sobbed, humiliated so much I just wanted to die.

— "I will fuck you, yes, but I don't like that you're crying. You'll stand like that until you calm down, and then I'll fuck you. But your time — until five in the evening. If you don't calm down by then, you can go to your bright unemployed future. Understood?"

— "Yes," — I barely squeezed out.

— "And one more thing, address me as 'Master'. It's not hard for you, and it's pleasant for me. Agreed?" — and slaps my ass.

— "Yes..." — and I hastily add, — "Master." Matvey chuckles, I can't calm my sobs. I understand I have less than an hour left, otherwise this whole humiliating circus was for nothing. I try with all my might to get my thoughts in order. After about fifteen minutes, I start to calm down. "Soon this will be over, endure." I hear Matvey open some desk drawer and something hard presses against my ass.

— "Arch your back more, spread your buns"

I comply. It feels like a pencil or pen

— "That's how you look more fun, I was getting bored waiting for you to stop howling"

He's doing it on purpose, as he realized I was starting to calm down, a new wave of shame and disgust rises to my throat, I choke on tears, a few teardrops roll onto the desk, but I don't cry anymore.

I hear him stand up, unzip his pants

— "move to the edge of the desk, without changing your pose"

I start scrambling backwards, realizing how ridiculous I look

— "answer me when I give you a task! 'Yes, Master', 'I obey, Master', you're a smart girl, use your imagination!"

— "yes, Master"

By this time, I'm already at the edge of the desk. Without further ado, he drives his cock into me and starts silently fucking me hard. I can't take it and scream, as my pussy is completely dry, it feels like I'm being shredded from the inside. Plus, he mercilessly spanks my ass.

— "you like it, huh?"

I scream

— "I can't hear an answer, scum! You should be thanking me that you won't be sleeping in street dens!"

— "yes, Master! Thank you, Master!"

— "Fucking bitch, mattress, you'll know your place, slut, in this life — pussy up, scum, pussy up! I'll teach you! Turn around!"

I turn around, he opens my mouth, quickly shoves his cock in and cums, painfully squeezing my nipples with his fingers.

— "Swallow, slut, swallow it all"

I choke, fight the gag reflex, but somehow swallow everything.

He pulls out his cock, takes my chin, looks into my eyes, smirks that vile smirk of his.

— "Did you like it?"

— "Yes, Master."

— "Look me in the eyes!"

I look him in the eyes, my teeth chattering from anger and shame:

— "Yes, Master."

He gives me a resounding slap, so hard my vision darkens.

— "Returning the favor. You can get dressed."

With trembling hands, I somehow pull my clothes back on.

— "And here's another thing. For a VIP whore, you only have the looks, no skills, and with obedience, I assume, there may be problems. So for now, you'll service our employees. That's the second part of my anti-crisis plan. We reduce their salaries in exchange for such a girl-slave. Naturally, laborers, office plankton, and managerial staff will have different mattresses. You would have been quite suitable for managers, but since you have a sin before me, you'll work it off with the laborers."

I realized he had planned this from the very beginning, the whole idea was to lower me as much as possible, he never had any thoughts about pampered VIP clients — laborers, uncouth brutes, uneducated, rude boors, dirty, stinking of sweat and hangover — loaders, cleaners...