Mistress Wife Patricia
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Secretarial Duties 3 - Conditioning Patricia free porn video
Patricia arrived at her office at little early, planning to complete the several reports she had due before the weekend so she would have both days free. She and Bill hadn't seen much of one another lately, Bill being occupied with his new job and the required travel. Patricia was hoping to make up some lost time together this weekend. She had been occupied, too, but only partially with work.
First, there had been Barry, Patricia's erstwhile superior. Barry had tried to **** Patricia by d**gging her. While the experience had been enjoyable for both of them, Patricia had definitely emerged as the dominant partner in the relationship. She hadn't been looking for extramarital sex, but quickly came to enjoy it. She found dominating Barry to be unexpectedly exciting. And not only was Barry's cock larger than Bill's, he got harder than Bill and recovered more quickly after cumming.
Then there was the matter of the orgy with Mitch Johnson and his crew. True, it had only happened once...so far. But Patricia fully expected him to arrange another little party. Truth be told, she rather looked forward to it.
But she had no time for self-indulgence now. Today, she had cleared her schedule so she could get at least one of the reports done.
“Ted, please get me a venti mocha soy latte, no foam, one Splenda.” She knew that Ted knew her preferred beverage, but she enjoyed giving him her order. “And some sort of scone, if they have any. Or a muffin.” She closed her office door behind her.
Patricia took off her jacket, sat at her desk, and slipped off her shoes. Even though she planned a work day, she had worn Bill's favorite dress, stockings and heels. They were planning to go out after work tonight, and she felt like she deserved to treat him and herself.
“Yes, Ms. Winegarden. But Mr. Johnson called and wants to see you right away. Do you want me to bring the coffee and scone to his office? Or wait until you're back to get them?” Ted was an efficient assistant, but sometimes he just made things too complicated.
“No, go now and leave them in my office. Thanks.”
Patricia slipped her heels back on. Was this business or was it monkey business? She couldn't imagine what real business Mr. Johnson would have with her, but then again, she couldn't imagine him pursuing any kind of sexual liaison during the business day. Maybe he just wanted to arrange a private meeting and didn't want to use email or the phone.
“I should be back shortly, Ted.” She smiled as she closed her office door and passed his desk, walking to the elevator. Eyeing her reflection in the mirrored wall, she was pleased. While there was no time now to do more than touch-up her lip gloss, her hair looked good and though her dress was just a little too risque for the office, she was glad she had dressed for her planned day-to-evening transition. She liked the idea of looking sexy for Mr. Johnson, even if it felt a little silly, playing the coquettish little girl. After all, she had already let Mr. Johnson and his friends fuck her and he must know she would willingly fuck them all again.
“Ms. Winegarden. They're expecting you. Go right in.” Mr. Johnson's assistant looked up as she entered the foyer.
Patricia thought, “'They're?' Hmmm. What could this be?” as she entered Mr. Johnson's lushly appointed office.
“Ah, Patricia. Thanks for coming. I want you to call your assistant and have him clear your schedule today.” Mr. Johnson rose from his chair. There was another man, thin, moderately tall, with gray hear, standing at the window with his back to her.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson. Please, what's this about?” Even as she asked the question, she texted Ted with the request to clear her schedule. Fortunately, it was already essentially empty. Unfortunately, this meant that the reports would have to wait. Even before she put her phone away, Ted replied, asking what to do with her coffee. She smiled.
“Patricia, I don't think you've been introduced to Dr. Schmidt. Dr. Schmidt, Patricia.” The thin man turned and stepped forward. She had met Dr. Schmidt previously – at the orgy! Dr. Schmidt was the Undertaker!
“Patricia. How are you?” Dr. Schmidt's tone was indifferent, the words were a mere formality.
“I'm fine, thank you.” Patricia was a bit flustered at this unexpected encounter. She smoothed her skirt nervously. What was going on? Surely not an orgy here, now!
“Patricia, we enjoyed using you. And you enjoyed being used, didn't you?” Mr. Johnson faced her, standing intimidatingly close, while Dr. Schmidt watched her face carefully.
“Yes, sir.” Being this close to Mr. Johnson was causing Patricia to flush; she could feel her pulse speeding up. While she might dominate Barry and her husband Bill, these two men made her want desperately to please them. She turned her gaze to the floor and again smoothed her skirt.
“You want us to use you again, don't you, Patricia?” Johnson put his hands on her shoulders, peering into her down-turned face.
“Yes, sir.” Patricia's soft answer was loud in the tomb-quiet room.
“And you want to please us as much as possible, don't you, Patricia?” He lifted her chin with one hand, forcing her to look at him. Dr. Schmidt's interest was obvious.
Patricia was breathing hard. She was excited beyond all reason. “Yes, sir.” Quietly, but nonetheless clearly audible.
“We can help you do that, Patricia. Are you willing?” Johnson looked directly into her eyes.
She returned his gaze, losing herself in his icy blue stare. “Yes. Sir. Whatever you want.” u*********sly, she straightened her shoulders, making her chest more prominent.
Dr. Schmidt stepped forward. “Patricia, I'm going to hypnotize you. I'm going to help you relax, to enjoy pleasing us on a deeper, more profound level than you ever imagined.
“Hypnosis merely enhances your suggestiveness. I won't be able to make you do anything you don't want to do. Do you understand that?”
Still facing Mr. Johnson, Patricia softly said, “Yes, sir.”
“Look at me, Patricia.” Dr. Schmidt drew her away from Johnson. “Sit here and listen to my voice.”
He guided her to a padded leather straight-back chair next to a small table.
“Just relax, dear. Listen to me. Shut out everything but my voice. Relax.” Even though he used a term of endearment, he still sounded totally indifferent, as if he used it simply so he didn't have to remember her name.
“I want you to count backwards from one-hundred. As you count, you're going to let yourself go to sleep. Count with me, now.”
“One hundred. You're very relaxed, very comfortable.” Schmidt's voice was intimate, firm.
“One hundred.” Patricia felt excited, but very pleased with herself.
“Ninety-nine. You feel very sleepy. You hear only my voice. Relax and go to sleep.” Schmidt's voice was so engaging, so comforting...
“Ninety-nine.” Patricia felt happy. Warm and cozy. This was nice.
“Ninety-eight. You're very comfortable, very relaxed.”
“Ninety...eight.” It was a little hard to think, but Patricia felt so good.
“Ninety-seven. Listen to my voice. Shut out everything else.”
“Niny seben.” Patricia didn't really want to speak, but she didn't want to disappoint Dr. Schmidt.
“Ninety-six. Go to sleep.”
“Nannee sex.” Patricia felt so completely relaxed that it was just too hard to articulate.
“Ninety-five. Let yourself go deeper and deeper.”
…
“Zero. You're completely awake.”
Patricia opened her eyes, feeling fresh and alert. She was a little chilly, so that her nipples were erect. She rubbed them between her fingers, which felt really nice. She didn't remember undressing, but she was completely naked except for her Wolford stay-ups and the strappy Via Spiga shoes. She drew her legs up, folding them under her. The leather felt good against her bare skin and stocking-covered feet.
Playing with her nipples was causing her pussy to grow moist. Patricia put one hand into her crotch and began gently rubbing her clit.
Looking around, Patricia realized she was in the conference room adjacent to Mr. Johnson's office and that her clothes were folded neatly on the conference room table. Further, there were more people in the room, seated along the far wall. She spread her legs, liking the idea that she was being watched, that these strangers liked watching her. She thought the black lacy tops of her stockings looked very sexy against the pale, smooth skin of her thighs. She hoped her audience thought the same.
Odd. She couldn't see their faces. When she looked any of them directly in the face, all she saw was a blur; she couldn't make out any countenance. It was a little creepy, actually. Somehow, she knew it was so her audience remained anonymous, which was exciting to her. She pinched her nipples, already hard and erect.
“Very good, dear. Just enjoy yourself. Johnson, bring it in. She's ready, now.” This last, Schmidt directed towards the open door to the office.
Patricia kept playing with her left nipple, while her right hand was teasing her increasingly wet pussy and clit. She had one leg straddled around each arm of the chair, allowing her observers a clear view of her smooth pussy, her fingers slipping in and out, and the now-visible coating of liquid lubricating her pussy and fingers.
Mr. Johnson pushed a small dolly carrying an odd device into the room. It looked like a peculiar footstool, a barrel split lengthwise, a length of split pipe, sitting wide side down, curved side up. There were two dildos mounted on top, a large one in front of a somewhat smaller one.
Before stepping away, he squirted some clear, viscous liquid onto the dildos.
“Sit on the Sybian, dear.”
Patricia got up, straightened her stockings, straddled the device, and carefully lowered herself onto it, guiding the larger dildo into her pussy and the other into her ass.
“Ooooh. Nice.” Patricia realized the liquid was a lube, allowing the dildos to slip in readily. She noticed that there was a control connected to the Sybian via a cable.
Schmidt picked up the control, and tweaked something.
“Ah...ah...ah...” Patricia felt the dildos move inside her, more snakes than vibrators. They felt like huge, squirmy, twisty worms, pulsing, contracting, and thrusting, all at the same time. She realized she was nearing orgasm very quickly.
“God, she's so hot!” Patricia barely heard the voice. The intense sensations demanded nearly all of her attention.
“Sit up, dear. Let us watch you come.” Somehow, Dr. Schmidt made demands, not requests.
Patricia sat upright, which caused her weight to push her harder onto the vibrating, pulsing dildos. She looked up, seeing her blurry-faced audience. One man had unzipped his pants and was stroking his cock. Seeing her effect on him, Patricia was pushed over the edge.
“AHHHH! God! I'm cumming!” With Bill, Patricia's orgasms were pleasant; with Barry, much stronger; and during her gang bang, they were intense. This was far stronger than anything she'd experienced. Her toes literally curled.
As she came down, she wondered whether she made more noise because her orgasm was more intense, or did she make more noise for the benefit of her audience?
“What a slut!” “I always thought she was a frigid bitch!” “I'm hard as a rock!” “Shit” “Make her cum again.”
There were many other murmurings. Patricia was still trying to catch her breath after her brain-numbing orgasm. She felt somehow pleased about the comments she heard. She purposely ran her hands up her abdomen, from her crotch to her shoulders, then began teasing her nipples, one in each hand. The murmurings increased in volume, but she couldn't make out the words because those amazing sensations inside her were suddenly stronger. Someone must have increased the setting.
“Uhnnn...uhnnn...uhnnn” Patricia's eyes rolled back. “Too...No...please” She couldn't keep herself from giving in to the overwhelming sensations. She felt the intensity building quickly; she squeezed her nipples tightly. The pain complemented the intense pleasure of the amazing fucking she was getting. The dildo in her pussy was vibrating and twisting and thrusting, all at once. It was WAY more intense than any man she'd had...and although she wasn't sure how many men had fucked her, she knew she had fucked more than her share. This, this was absolutely mind-altering. There was a thick, short snake coiling and uncoiling itself in her pussy. And the one in her ass felt like a tongue forcing its way in and out of her. She could feel her own juices running down her thighs. She was ready to cum again...the orgasm was building, pushing her towards bliss, oblivion, le petite mort...only not little at all.
The blurry-faced men moved closer, surrounding her. Nearly all of them had their cocks out, stroking their erections. Even without seeing their faces, she could tell they were all watching closely. She could practically FEEL them watching her.
That thought was enough to make her cum.
“AAAAAH! Shit! So...fucking...good! Stop...it...PLEASE!” Patricia's nipples were stiff, her toes were curled so tightly her foot ached, she could feel her chest and neck flushing.
The snakes kept wriggling. She felt the sensations building again.
“OH, PLEASE, STOP. LET ME REST! PLEASE! OH!” Patricia bowed her head, tears welling and flowing down her cheeks. She tried to rise off the machine, only to realize that she was strapped on. She didn't know when that had happened. The snakes were pulsing and threshing even more strongly. She was now starting to breathe faster again. “No, no, no, no. No more. Too much.” She pushed herself as far off as possible, but was only able to withdraw an inch or so of those magnificent, wonderful, incredible pleasure-probes out of her. Her knees gave way and she again impaled herself, driving both dildos deeply inside her. “AAAAAH!”
She felt something hot strike her shoulders, a spurt of warm liquid, a small stream that landed near her neck and slowly ran down her back. Someone had cum on her! She had made him cum! She arched her head backwards, exposing her chest and neck and was instantly rewarded with another spurt, and then another.
She couldn't stop herself. Another orgasm swept over her. Cum was running down her chest, her stomach, her back. She opened her eyes to discover a monstrously hard, purple cock inches away, pointed at her face. Obligingly, she opened her mouth. She was panting, but whether from fatigue or eagerness, she couldn't judge. Hot, bitter cum splashed onto her lips, into her mouth. She smiled, mindlessly riding another wave towards its inevitable crest. She stopped trying to stop.
There was another spurt onto her face. And another. And another on her back.
Patricia lost count of the spurts...of her orgasms...of time.
Patricia grew aware again. She was lying on a leather-covered sofa. Her ass burned. Her crotch was wet and stung. Her jaw was sore. She was nearly covered with drying, flaking jism. One stocking was gone, the remaining one had a huge ladder from her toe up to the lace top. No shoes at all. She could feel her hair stuck onto her face and taste bitter residues in her mouth.
“Ah, awake.” Mr. Johnson looked up from his desk. “You can shower and freshen up in my restroom. Not too sore, I hope.”
Patricia giggled. “Thank you, sir. Was I satisfactory?”
“You were very good, Patricia. You'll get better with more practice. Dr. Schmidt will help you.”
“That sounds very nice, sir.” Patricia smiled as she walked to Mr. Johnson's private restroom. She saw an array of personal care products on the tile counter of the sink, along with some very plush towels. It dawned on her that the products were exactly those she used at home, right down to the various cosmetics and her preferred toothbrush.
Cum was drying on her skin, her hair. She sc****d some flecks off her abdomen with her nail. Impulsively, she put one onto her tongue. The bitter saltiness was oddly pleasant.
Patricia opened the shower door, turned the spray to hot, and stepped in. The warm water felt perfect on her sore bum and stiff leg muscles. She cleaned her hair, a little shocked at how much cum there was. She washed thoroughly, not wanting to leave traces that Bill might discover.
Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself with one of the plush towels. It was warm enough that she didn't feel any urgency about dressing. Since all her products were here, she took her time primping. Truth be told, she liked that one wall was a full-length mirror. It sounded vain, but she was proud of her firm, tight breasts and taunt abs. Preening in the mirror, she thought, “Not bad for an old broad. I could stand to lose a few inches off my ass. Nice legs, though. Too bad about the stockings. I loved those Wolford's. Ah well.”
She realized there wasn't any clothing in the washroom except the cum-coated stocking. She finished putting on her face, wrapped the towel around her, and returned to Mr. Johnson's mail office.
“Done already?” Mr. Johnson looked up and smiled as she entered his office. “Come here.”
Patricia walked around the corner of his desk, approaching him as closely as possible. He swiveled in his chair, and appraised her. “Drop the towel,” he told her.
Her whole body was tingling, flushed with warmth. She relaxed her arms and the towel fell to the floor.
“Nice. Very nice. Spread your legs, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson placed his hand on her upper thigh, waiting for her to give him easy access to her pussy.
Patricia spread her legs more widely. Mr. Johnson's hand slipped between her thighs, his thumb gently teasing her clit.
Patricia gasped a little. In spite of her soreness, she could feel moistness accumulating in her pussy. She had to fight an urge to grab his hand and force it inside her, to thrust against his pressure. She smiled, bemused by her own wantonness.
Mr. Johnson flicked her sensitive little bud faster. “You like that, don't you? Don't fight it, my horny little princess. Just relax. Let yourself go. Be the slut you want to be, princess.”
His voice was warm, steady, so reassuring. Patricia moved her legs further apart, and let herself press against Mr. Johnson's hand. She was wet, slippery wet.
Still stroking her with one hand, Mr. Johnson opened his trousers with his other. His rapidly swelling cock flopped out, a thick, white worm wriggling, stiffening. “Suck my cock, princess. Make me cum in your mouth again. Swallow me, princess.”
Patricia smiled and leaned forward, burying her head into his crotch. She eagerly slurped his penis into her mouth, gently sucking, sliding her lips up and down the encouraging shaft. “Mmmmmm.” She caressed his testicles with her hand.
In return, Johnson slipped three fingers into her cunt, still firmly stroking her clit. “You like that, don't you, princess? You like my cock, you like cock. You like feeling them swell and harden. You like making me feel good, don't you? You're such a slut.” He wriggled his fingers, filling her, teasing her, exciting her in an entirely different, unique way.
“Feels so good.” Patricia's words were practically undecipherable, but she didn't want to take Mr. Johnson's cock out even briefly. There was something satisfying about feeling that beautiful, now-hard cylinder of flesh in her mouth, about making Mr. Johnson close his eyes in satisfaction. She pushed her mouth down around that cock until her lips were pressed against the base. Usually, she gagged before she took cocks so deeply, but now she was completely comfortable, even feeling the smooth tip pressing into her throat. She scratched his testicles very gently with her nails, feeling satisfaction with the resultant stiffening of Mr. Johnson's body.
He was close. Should she delay him, or bring him off quickly? Which would give him more pleasure, she wondered. Patricia knew she had made him cum in her mouth before, that she had swallowed his cum eagerly. She didn't do that for Bill. At least, not often.
Without warning, Johnson put his hands firmly on Patricia's waist, lifted her, pulling her mouth from his cock, and then pushed her onto his lap, forcing his cock deep inside.
“OH! God, that feels SO good!” Patricia was amazed at how lovely it felt to have his hard, thick cock fill her. She couldn't feel anything but pleasure. No soreness, not the least. Johnson was rocking his hips, gently thrusting in and out of her. He used his thumb to stimulate her clit. This was so good! She put a hand on each breast, cupping them, massaging them, tweaking her nipples, arching her back, her weight forcing him even deeper. She felt herself nearing orgasm.
“You're so tight, princess. I love fucking you! You have a slippery, tight, perfect pussy, princess! Such a totally outstanding fuck!” Johnson was thrusting harder and faster. “You make it feel sooo gooood, slut.”
With his right hand, he pushed her hand aside and squeezed her breast cruelly. “That's it, princess. Let me hear you moan. Push yourself deeper onto my cock. Let me feel you cum, princess. I want to feel your pussy squeeze my cock. That's it, princess. Cum on me.”
Patricia was cumming. She could feel her juices oozing out onto his crotch. She could feel her PC muscles alternately clinching and releasing that beautiful cock. And now she could feel his cock throb inside her, jet of hot cum splashing inside her. He squeezed her breast again, even harder. Such perfect pain! She went limp against him, her hand gently teasing his her, her lips kissing his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Ah. Very nice. You're one very good fuck, princess. Here, let me have your towel.” He pushed her off his lap, then used the towel to wipe her juices off his crotch. “Your clothes are over there. Good day, Patricia.” Johnson threw the towel in his trash and turned his attention to whatever work was on his desk. Clearly, he had dismissed her already.
Patricia thought about showering again, but decided against it. Nude, she wiped her own crotch with the other towel, then slipped on her stockings and fastened bra. She didn't find any panties, but decided she probably didn't really need them. She slipped her dress on over her head, stepped into her shoes, and took a minute to fasten her necklace around her neck.
She opened the door. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson.”
“Ummmm.” He didn't even look up.
Patricia went back to her own office.
“Ted, I'm back. Hold any calls. That meeting was MUCH longer than I anticipated.” Patricia headed straight to her own office.
“Er, do you still want your scone and latte, Ms. Winegarden? I can mike the coffee to warm it.”
“That would be nice, Ted. Just bring it in.” She entered her sanctum, sat at her desk, and smiled. Then she pulled up the first report.
The afternoon went too quickly. Although she didn't remember the details exactly, her morning session had lasted until 12:30, so effectively, she only had half a day's work. Still, Patricia was able to focus on her tasks more completely than usual. Perhaps the morning's activities had cleared her head? Maybe she ought to do this every morning. She smiled.
She texted Bill, asking him to give her an extra hour before picking her up.
When he finally arrived, the office was empty. Since security knew him on sight, he came directly to her office.
Patricia looked up and smiled. Bill was so sweet. Not always as attentive as she wished, but always sweet.
Suddenly, she wanted Bill, in the worst way.
She stood, stepped forward, and hugged him tightly. He returned the affection, and kissed her. The gentle kiss became a passionate one, as Patricia's one hand explored his back while the other played with his hair.
Bill picked her up and set her on her desk, pushing her back until her butt was fully resting on it. He kissed her throat, and his hands started pushing her skirt up.
“What's this? No panties?” Bill couldn't hide his surprise.
“I was kind of hoping you might feel frisky,” Patricia responded, breathing hard. All that sex this morning and now she was feeling as horny as a teenager. “Mr. Johnson was right,” she thought. “I really am a slut.”
Bill knelt at her knees and kissed each knee, then each thigh. She leaned back, supporting herself on her arms. This was his usual prelude to eating her! Would she taste differently to him? Would he know? She felt her pulse racing.
Bill's attentions moved up her thighs, then focused at the sweet spot. If he could sense any difference, he didn't show it. He licked and sucked for what seemed like hours, but was probably minutes. She didn't cum, but it did feel really nice. Patricia relaxed and let the waves of pleasure wash over her.
Bill eventually slowed and stopped. “Babe, let's just get some take out, go home, and watch a video.” Either he had cum in his pants or he wanted to continue as quickly as possible.
“That sounds delightful. I love you, Bill.”
Hand in hand, they left for the car.
First, there had been Barry, Patricia's erstwhile superior. Barry had tried to **** Patricia by d**gging her. While the experience had been enjoyable for both of them, Patricia had definitely emerged as the dominant partner in the relationship. She hadn't been looking for extramarital sex, but quickly came to enjoy it. She found dominating Barry to be unexpectedly exciting. And not only was Barry's cock larger than Bill's, he got harder than Bill and recovered more quickly after cumming.
Then there was the matter of the orgy with Mitch Johnson and his crew. True, it had only happened once...so far. But Patricia fully expected him to arrange another little party. Truth be told, she rather looked forward to it.
But she had no time for self-indulgence now. Today, she had cleared her schedule so she could get at least one of the reports done.
“Ted, please get me a venti mocha soy latte, no foam, one Splenda.” She knew that Ted knew her preferred beverage, but she enjoyed giving him her order. “And some sort of scone, if they have any. Or a muffin.” She closed her office door behind her.
Patricia took off her jacket, sat at her desk, and slipped off her shoes. Even though she planned a work day, she had worn Bill's favorite dress, stockings and heels. They were planning to go out after work tonight, and she felt like she deserved to treat him and herself.
“Yes, Ms. Winegarden. But Mr. Johnson called and wants to see you right away. Do you want me to bring the coffee and scone to his office? Or wait until you're back to get them?” Ted was an efficient assistant, but sometimes he just made things too complicated.
“No, go now and leave them in my office. Thanks.”
Patricia slipped her heels back on. Was this business or was it monkey business? She couldn't imagine what real business Mr. Johnson would have with her, but then again, she couldn't imagine him pursuing any kind of sexual liaison during the business day. Maybe he just wanted to arrange a private meeting and didn't want to use email or the phone.
“I should be back shortly, Ted.” She smiled as she closed her office door and passed his desk, walking to the elevator. Eyeing her reflection in the mirrored wall, she was pleased. While there was no time now to do more than touch-up her lip gloss, her hair looked good and though her dress was just a little too risque for the office, she was glad she had dressed for her planned day-to-evening transition. She liked the idea of looking sexy for Mr. Johnson, even if it felt a little silly, playing the coquettish little girl. After all, she had already let Mr. Johnson and his friends fuck her and he must know she would willingly fuck them all again.
“Ms. Winegarden. They're expecting you. Go right in.” Mr. Johnson's assistant looked up as she entered the foyer.
Patricia thought, “'They're?' Hmmm. What could this be?” as she entered Mr. Johnson's lushly appointed office.
“Ah, Patricia. Thanks for coming. I want you to call your assistant and have him clear your schedule today.” Mr. Johnson rose from his chair. There was another man, thin, moderately tall, with gray hear, standing at the window with his back to her.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson. Please, what's this about?” Even as she asked the question, she texted Ted with the request to clear her schedule. Fortunately, it was already essentially empty. Unfortunately, this meant that the reports would have to wait. Even before she put her phone away, Ted replied, asking what to do with her coffee. She smiled.
“Patricia, I don't think you've been introduced to Dr. Schmidt. Dr. Schmidt, Patricia.” The thin man turned and stepped forward. She had met Dr. Schmidt previously – at the orgy! Dr. Schmidt was the Undertaker!
“Patricia. How are you?” Dr. Schmidt's tone was indifferent, the words were a mere formality.
“I'm fine, thank you.” Patricia was a bit flustered at this unexpected encounter. She smoothed her skirt nervously. What was going on? Surely not an orgy here, now!
“Patricia, we enjoyed using you. And you enjoyed being used, didn't you?” Mr. Johnson faced her, standing intimidatingly close, while Dr. Schmidt watched her face carefully.
“Yes, sir.” Being this close to Mr. Johnson was causing Patricia to flush; she could feel her pulse speeding up. While she might dominate Barry and her husband Bill, these two men made her want desperately to please them. She turned her gaze to the floor and again smoothed her skirt.
“You want us to use you again, don't you, Patricia?” Johnson put his hands on her shoulders, peering into her down-turned face.
“Yes, sir.” Patricia's soft answer was loud in the tomb-quiet room.
“And you want to please us as much as possible, don't you, Patricia?” He lifted her chin with one hand, forcing her to look at him. Dr. Schmidt's interest was obvious.
Patricia was breathing hard. She was excited beyond all reason. “Yes, sir.” Quietly, but nonetheless clearly audible.
“We can help you do that, Patricia. Are you willing?” Johnson looked directly into her eyes.
She returned his gaze, losing herself in his icy blue stare. “Yes. Sir. Whatever you want.” u*********sly, she straightened her shoulders, making her chest more prominent.
Dr. Schmidt stepped forward. “Patricia, I'm going to hypnotize you. I'm going to help you relax, to enjoy pleasing us on a deeper, more profound level than you ever imagined.
“Hypnosis merely enhances your suggestiveness. I won't be able to make you do anything you don't want to do. Do you understand that?”
Still facing Mr. Johnson, Patricia softly said, “Yes, sir.”
“Look at me, Patricia.” Dr. Schmidt drew her away from Johnson. “Sit here and listen to my voice.”
He guided her to a padded leather straight-back chair next to a small table.
“Just relax, dear. Listen to me. Shut out everything but my voice. Relax.” Even though he used a term of endearment, he still sounded totally indifferent, as if he used it simply so he didn't have to remember her name.
“I want you to count backwards from one-hundred. As you count, you're going to let yourself go to sleep. Count with me, now.”
“One hundred. You're very relaxed, very comfortable.” Schmidt's voice was intimate, firm.
“One hundred.” Patricia felt excited, but very pleased with herself.
“Ninety-nine. You feel very sleepy. You hear only my voice. Relax and go to sleep.” Schmidt's voice was so engaging, so comforting...
“Ninety-nine.” Patricia felt happy. Warm and cozy. This was nice.
“Ninety-eight. You're very comfortable, very relaxed.”
“Ninety...eight.” It was a little hard to think, but Patricia felt so good.
“Ninety-seven. Listen to my voice. Shut out everything else.”
“Niny seben.” Patricia didn't really want to speak, but she didn't want to disappoint Dr. Schmidt.
“Ninety-six. Go to sleep.”
“Nannee sex.” Patricia felt so completely relaxed that it was just too hard to articulate.
“Ninety-five. Let yourself go deeper and deeper.”
…
“Zero. You're completely awake.”
Patricia opened her eyes, feeling fresh and alert. She was a little chilly, so that her nipples were erect. She rubbed them between her fingers, which felt really nice. She didn't remember undressing, but she was completely naked except for her Wolford stay-ups and the strappy Via Spiga shoes. She drew her legs up, folding them under her. The leather felt good against her bare skin and stocking-covered feet.
Playing with her nipples was causing her pussy to grow moist. Patricia put one hand into her crotch and began gently rubbing her clit.
Looking around, Patricia realized she was in the conference room adjacent to Mr. Johnson's office and that her clothes were folded neatly on the conference room table. Further, there were more people in the room, seated along the far wall. She spread her legs, liking the idea that she was being watched, that these strangers liked watching her. She thought the black lacy tops of her stockings looked very sexy against the pale, smooth skin of her thighs. She hoped her audience thought the same.
Odd. She couldn't see their faces. When she looked any of them directly in the face, all she saw was a blur; she couldn't make out any countenance. It was a little creepy, actually. Somehow, she knew it was so her audience remained anonymous, which was exciting to her. She pinched her nipples, already hard and erect.
“Very good, dear. Just enjoy yourself. Johnson, bring it in. She's ready, now.” This last, Schmidt directed towards the open door to the office.
Patricia kept playing with her left nipple, while her right hand was teasing her increasingly wet pussy and clit. She had one leg straddled around each arm of the chair, allowing her observers a clear view of her smooth pussy, her fingers slipping in and out, and the now-visible coating of liquid lubricating her pussy and fingers.
Mr. Johnson pushed a small dolly carrying an odd device into the room. It looked like a peculiar footstool, a barrel split lengthwise, a length of split pipe, sitting wide side down, curved side up. There were two dildos mounted on top, a large one in front of a somewhat smaller one.
Before stepping away, he squirted some clear, viscous liquid onto the dildos.
“Sit on the Sybian, dear.”
Patricia got up, straightened her stockings, straddled the device, and carefully lowered herself onto it, guiding the larger dildo into her pussy and the other into her ass.
“Ooooh. Nice.” Patricia realized the liquid was a lube, allowing the dildos to slip in readily. She noticed that there was a control connected to the Sybian via a cable.
Schmidt picked up the control, and tweaked something.
“Ah...ah...ah...” Patricia felt the dildos move inside her, more snakes than vibrators. They felt like huge, squirmy, twisty worms, pulsing, contracting, and thrusting, all at the same time. She realized she was nearing orgasm very quickly.
“God, she's so hot!” Patricia barely heard the voice. The intense sensations demanded nearly all of her attention.
“Sit up, dear. Let us watch you come.” Somehow, Dr. Schmidt made demands, not requests.
Patricia sat upright, which caused her weight to push her harder onto the vibrating, pulsing dildos. She looked up, seeing her blurry-faced audience. One man had unzipped his pants and was stroking his cock. Seeing her effect on him, Patricia was pushed over the edge.
“AHHHH! God! I'm cumming!” With Bill, Patricia's orgasms were pleasant; with Barry, much stronger; and during her gang bang, they were intense. This was far stronger than anything she'd experienced. Her toes literally curled.
As she came down, she wondered whether she made more noise because her orgasm was more intense, or did she make more noise for the benefit of her audience?
“What a slut!” “I always thought she was a frigid bitch!” “I'm hard as a rock!” “Shit” “Make her cum again.”
There were many other murmurings. Patricia was still trying to catch her breath after her brain-numbing orgasm. She felt somehow pleased about the comments she heard. She purposely ran her hands up her abdomen, from her crotch to her shoulders, then began teasing her nipples, one in each hand. The murmurings increased in volume, but she couldn't make out the words because those amazing sensations inside her were suddenly stronger. Someone must have increased the setting.
“Uhnnn...uhnnn...uhnnn” Patricia's eyes rolled back. “Too...No...please” She couldn't keep herself from giving in to the overwhelming sensations. She felt the intensity building quickly; she squeezed her nipples tightly. The pain complemented the intense pleasure of the amazing fucking she was getting. The dildo in her pussy was vibrating and twisting and thrusting, all at once. It was WAY more intense than any man she'd had...and although she wasn't sure how many men had fucked her, she knew she had fucked more than her share. This, this was absolutely mind-altering. There was a thick, short snake coiling and uncoiling itself in her pussy. And the one in her ass felt like a tongue forcing its way in and out of her. She could feel her own juices running down her thighs. She was ready to cum again...the orgasm was building, pushing her towards bliss, oblivion, le petite mort...only not little at all.
The blurry-faced men moved closer, surrounding her. Nearly all of them had their cocks out, stroking their erections. Even without seeing their faces, she could tell they were all watching closely. She could practically FEEL them watching her.
That thought was enough to make her cum.
“AAAAAH! Shit! So...fucking...good! Stop...it...PLEASE!” Patricia's nipples were stiff, her toes were curled so tightly her foot ached, she could feel her chest and neck flushing.
The snakes kept wriggling. She felt the sensations building again.
“OH, PLEASE, STOP. LET ME REST! PLEASE! OH!” Patricia bowed her head, tears welling and flowing down her cheeks. She tried to rise off the machine, only to realize that she was strapped on. She didn't know when that had happened. The snakes were pulsing and threshing even more strongly. She was now starting to breathe faster again. “No, no, no, no. No more. Too much.” She pushed herself as far off as possible, but was only able to withdraw an inch or so of those magnificent, wonderful, incredible pleasure-probes out of her. Her knees gave way and she again impaled herself, driving both dildos deeply inside her. “AAAAAH!”
She felt something hot strike her shoulders, a spurt of warm liquid, a small stream that landed near her neck and slowly ran down her back. Someone had cum on her! She had made him cum! She arched her head backwards, exposing her chest and neck and was instantly rewarded with another spurt, and then another.
She couldn't stop herself. Another orgasm swept over her. Cum was running down her chest, her stomach, her back. She opened her eyes to discover a monstrously hard, purple cock inches away, pointed at her face. Obligingly, she opened her mouth. She was panting, but whether from fatigue or eagerness, she couldn't judge. Hot, bitter cum splashed onto her lips, into her mouth. She smiled, mindlessly riding another wave towards its inevitable crest. She stopped trying to stop.
There was another spurt onto her face. And another. And another on her back.
Patricia lost count of the spurts...of her orgasms...of time.
Patricia grew aware again. She was lying on a leather-covered sofa. Her ass burned. Her crotch was wet and stung. Her jaw was sore. She was nearly covered with drying, flaking jism. One stocking was gone, the remaining one had a huge ladder from her toe up to the lace top. No shoes at all. She could feel her hair stuck onto her face and taste bitter residues in her mouth.
“Ah, awake.” Mr. Johnson looked up from his desk. “You can shower and freshen up in my restroom. Not too sore, I hope.”
Patricia giggled. “Thank you, sir. Was I satisfactory?”
“You were very good, Patricia. You'll get better with more practice. Dr. Schmidt will help you.”
“That sounds very nice, sir.” Patricia smiled as she walked to Mr. Johnson's private restroom. She saw an array of personal care products on the tile counter of the sink, along with some very plush towels. It dawned on her that the products were exactly those she used at home, right down to the various cosmetics and her preferred toothbrush.
Cum was drying on her skin, her hair. She sc****d some flecks off her abdomen with her nail. Impulsively, she put one onto her tongue. The bitter saltiness was oddly pleasant.
Patricia opened the shower door, turned the spray to hot, and stepped in. The warm water felt perfect on her sore bum and stiff leg muscles. She cleaned her hair, a little shocked at how much cum there was. She washed thoroughly, not wanting to leave traces that Bill might discover.
Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself with one of the plush towels. It was warm enough that she didn't feel any urgency about dressing. Since all her products were here, she took her time primping. Truth be told, she liked that one wall was a full-length mirror. It sounded vain, but she was proud of her firm, tight breasts and taunt abs. Preening in the mirror, she thought, “Not bad for an old broad. I could stand to lose a few inches off my ass. Nice legs, though. Too bad about the stockings. I loved those Wolford's. Ah well.”
She realized there wasn't any clothing in the washroom except the cum-coated stocking. She finished putting on her face, wrapped the towel around her, and returned to Mr. Johnson's mail office.
“Done already?” Mr. Johnson looked up and smiled as she entered his office. “Come here.”
Patricia walked around the corner of his desk, approaching him as closely as possible. He swiveled in his chair, and appraised her. “Drop the towel,” he told her.
Her whole body was tingling, flushed with warmth. She relaxed her arms and the towel fell to the floor.
“Nice. Very nice. Spread your legs, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson placed his hand on her upper thigh, waiting for her to give him easy access to her pussy.
Patricia spread her legs more widely. Mr. Johnson's hand slipped between her thighs, his thumb gently teasing her clit.
Patricia gasped a little. In spite of her soreness, she could feel moistness accumulating in her pussy. She had to fight an urge to grab his hand and force it inside her, to thrust against his pressure. She smiled, bemused by her own wantonness.
Mr. Johnson flicked her sensitive little bud faster. “You like that, don't you? Don't fight it, my horny little princess. Just relax. Let yourself go. Be the slut you want to be, princess.”
His voice was warm, steady, so reassuring. Patricia moved her legs further apart, and let herself press against Mr. Johnson's hand. She was wet, slippery wet.
Still stroking her with one hand, Mr. Johnson opened his trousers with his other. His rapidly swelling cock flopped out, a thick, white worm wriggling, stiffening. “Suck my cock, princess. Make me cum in your mouth again. Swallow me, princess.”
Patricia smiled and leaned forward, burying her head into his crotch. She eagerly slurped his penis into her mouth, gently sucking, sliding her lips up and down the encouraging shaft. “Mmmmmm.” She caressed his testicles with her hand.
In return, Johnson slipped three fingers into her cunt, still firmly stroking her clit. “You like that, don't you, princess? You like my cock, you like cock. You like feeling them swell and harden. You like making me feel good, don't you? You're such a slut.” He wriggled his fingers, filling her, teasing her, exciting her in an entirely different, unique way.
“Feels so good.” Patricia's words were practically undecipherable, but she didn't want to take Mr. Johnson's cock out even briefly. There was something satisfying about feeling that beautiful, now-hard cylinder of flesh in her mouth, about making Mr. Johnson close his eyes in satisfaction. She pushed her mouth down around that cock until her lips were pressed against the base. Usually, she gagged before she took cocks so deeply, but now she was completely comfortable, even feeling the smooth tip pressing into her throat. She scratched his testicles very gently with her nails, feeling satisfaction with the resultant stiffening of Mr. Johnson's body.
He was close. Should she delay him, or bring him off quickly? Which would give him more pleasure, she wondered. Patricia knew she had made him cum in her mouth before, that she had swallowed his cum eagerly. She didn't do that for Bill. At least, not often.
Without warning, Johnson put his hands firmly on Patricia's waist, lifted her, pulling her mouth from his cock, and then pushed her onto his lap, forcing his cock deep inside.
“OH! God, that feels SO good!” Patricia was amazed at how lovely it felt to have his hard, thick cock fill her. She couldn't feel anything but pleasure. No soreness, not the least. Johnson was rocking his hips, gently thrusting in and out of her. He used his thumb to stimulate her clit. This was so good! She put a hand on each breast, cupping them, massaging them, tweaking her nipples, arching her back, her weight forcing him even deeper. She felt herself nearing orgasm.
“You're so tight, princess. I love fucking you! You have a slippery, tight, perfect pussy, princess! Such a totally outstanding fuck!” Johnson was thrusting harder and faster. “You make it feel sooo gooood, slut.”
With his right hand, he pushed her hand aside and squeezed her breast cruelly. “That's it, princess. Let me hear you moan. Push yourself deeper onto my cock. Let me feel you cum, princess. I want to feel your pussy squeeze my cock. That's it, princess. Cum on me.”
Patricia was cumming. She could feel her juices oozing out onto his crotch. She could feel her PC muscles alternately clinching and releasing that beautiful cock. And now she could feel his cock throb inside her, jet of hot cum splashing inside her. He squeezed her breast again, even harder. Such perfect pain! She went limp against him, her hand gently teasing his her, her lips kissing his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Ah. Very nice. You're one very good fuck, princess. Here, let me have your towel.” He pushed her off his lap, then used the towel to wipe her juices off his crotch. “Your clothes are over there. Good day, Patricia.” Johnson threw the towel in his trash and turned his attention to whatever work was on his desk. Clearly, he had dismissed her already.
Patricia thought about showering again, but decided against it. Nude, she wiped her own crotch with the other towel, then slipped on her stockings and fastened bra. She didn't find any panties, but decided she probably didn't really need them. She slipped her dress on over her head, stepped into her shoes, and took a minute to fasten her necklace around her neck.
She opened the door. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson.”
“Ummmm.” He didn't even look up.
Patricia went back to her own office.
“Ted, I'm back. Hold any calls. That meeting was MUCH longer than I anticipated.” Patricia headed straight to her own office.
“Er, do you still want your scone and latte, Ms. Winegarden? I can mike the coffee to warm it.”
“That would be nice, Ted. Just bring it in.” She entered her sanctum, sat at her desk, and smiled. Then she pulled up the first report.
The afternoon went too quickly. Although she didn't remember the details exactly, her morning session had lasted until 12:30, so effectively, she only had half a day's work. Still, Patricia was able to focus on her tasks more completely than usual. Perhaps the morning's activities had cleared her head? Maybe she ought to do this every morning. She smiled.
She texted Bill, asking him to give her an extra hour before picking her up.
When he finally arrived, the office was empty. Since security knew him on sight, he came directly to her office.
Patricia looked up and smiled. Bill was so sweet. Not always as attentive as she wished, but always sweet.
Suddenly, she wanted Bill, in the worst way.
She stood, stepped forward, and hugged him tightly. He returned the affection, and kissed her. The gentle kiss became a passionate one, as Patricia's one hand explored his back while the other played with his hair.
Bill picked her up and set her on her desk, pushing her back until her butt was fully resting on it. He kissed her throat, and his hands started pushing her skirt up.
“What's this? No panties?” Bill couldn't hide his surprise.
“I was kind of hoping you might feel frisky,” Patricia responded, breathing hard. All that sex this morning and now she was feeling as horny as a teenager. “Mr. Johnson was right,” she thought. “I really am a slut.”
Bill knelt at her knees and kissed each knee, then each thigh. She leaned back, supporting herself on her arms. This was his usual prelude to eating her! Would she taste differently to him? Would he know? She felt her pulse racing.
Bill's attentions moved up her thighs, then focused at the sweet spot. If he could sense any difference, he didn't show it. He licked and sucked for what seemed like hours, but was probably minutes. She didn't cum, but it did feel really nice. Patricia relaxed and let the waves of pleasure wash over her.
Bill eventually slowed and stopped. “Babe, let's just get some take out, go home, and watch a video.” Either he had cum in his pants or he wanted to continue as quickly as possible.
“That sounds delightful. I love you, Bill.”
Hand in hand, they left for the car.
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