"Spread Wide Secretary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vickers Robert)

Chapter 2

Veronica didn't know if she should do this or not. Yet she felt so rotten all the time she knew she had to do something to change her life drastically. Last night with Stan should have been the best fucking ever. It should have been. He was turned on in a big way and the memories from her own wedding night had come back strongly enough to allow her to get off once – just once.

The word rattled inside her head. Once. Only after they'd been married had she been able to get off a dozen times or more. The climaxes had come like a string of firecrackers going off. But that happened no longer.

Now she had to be content with a single come.

And even this was denied her most nights they fucked. Veronica knew that she had to do something. And maybe answering the ad in the newspaper would do it.

Stan didn't like the idea of her finding a job. So, she thought, she just wouldn't tell him she was going out looking. Maybe if she found a job she could recover some of the feelings lost in her marriage. Maybe she could drive away the boredom stalking her constantly.

Veronica knew she should have enjoyed the hell out of the fucking Stan had given her last night. And she had – for a few seconds. That convinced her she wasn't totally around the bend. There was still life left in the trim, sleek white body she possessed. Getting out into the world, meeting people, finding new interests, maybe all that would revitalize her so she could enjoy the wondrous things in life – like Stan's huge prick.

Acme Manufacturing Company, the ad read.

Her bright blue eyes skimmed down the small ad until she came to the bottom.

"So, Acme it is," she said to herself. "They need a secretary – and I'll give 'em the best damn one in the whole world. Me!"

She finished off her coffee, made sure Stan had left for the office, then went and dressed in her new brown tweed suit. She studied herself briefly in the mirror and knew she was a knockout.

"That job's as good as mine," she said confidently. And out she went to land it.

"Well, Mrs. Hines," said Mr. Marshall, the director of personnel,

"these are hard times. Recession. Lots of people out of a job. We have more people wanting this single job than you can imagine."

"But I'm qualified," Veronica protested, leaning forward slightly. "I can do the work. I want to do the work."

Mr. Marshall leaned back in his chair, as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes raked over the impudent swell of her tits pushing against the thin blouse under her tweed jacket. He hadn't missed a single sway of her womanly ass or the slender, smoky flash of her pantyhose-clad legs as she'd come into the room.

His cock began swelling as he eyed her.

"We need team players, Mrs. Hines. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I'll do whatever I can for the company," Veronica said slowly. The blue-eyed blonde had the uneasy feeling he was watching her like a snake watches a bird.

"It goes beyond that. We get lots of women as qualified as you are. You need to show me something… extra. You need to show me you can work on my team, do things for me… as well as the company," the portly man added hurriedly.

"I don't understand," Veronica said slowly, afraid that she did understand. He wasn't going to give her the job unless she put out for him.

"Come, come, Veronica," he said, taking the liberty of calling her by her first name. "You're not stupid. I can see that. And I can see much more. You know what I mean." Mr. Marshall licked his lips and stood up, the bulge obvious in his pants.

Veronica didn't know what to do. She could leave, but she wanted the job. It seemed perfect. But to put out for such a pig!

The slight delay spurred Mr. Marshall on. He came over and laid his hand against her cheek, stroking lightly.

"So lovely. I'll bet you have a damned near virgin-tight pussy, too.

Don't you, my dear?"

"Burn in hell, you slimy toad!" she cried, recoiling from his hand as if he'd burned her.

She read the anger in his eyes and tried to run. She only got a couple steps before he caught her. He spun her around, his fingers gliding out to the collar of her blouse. He dipped down the neckline and grabbed.

With a savage jerk, he sent the buttons skittering to all corners of the room. Her naked tits bobbed into view.

"Mr. Marshall! You can't do this!"

"I can and I will. You come on so damned strong. You one of those goddamn Women's Lib types wanting to push men around? You a cockteaser, you sultry bitch? I'll show you what it takes to make it around Acme Manufacturing!"

His fingers locked like steel bands on her arms. She fought, but it did no good. He lifted her like a rag doll and carried her to the small couch near the far wall of the office. He dumped her unceremoniously on the sofa. She felt the springs protesting the sudden load. Before she could get her feet under her to roll away and escape, Mr. Marshall was beside her.

"I'm gonna tie you up and show you what I want from a team player at this company. Maybe you'll get the idea so I don't ever have to fuck you like this again."

Veronica gasped when he pulled loose the curtain sash and looped it around her left wrist. He knotted the cord at the leg of the sofa. No matter how much she fought, he was heavier and stronger. He soon had both her hands bound above her head.

By the time she thought about kicking, he was ready to fasten her ankles to the legs of the couch. He didn't bother to strip off her brown tweed skirt. He just rolled it into a tight band around her waist, exposing her stocking-clad legs. He went ahead and tied her ankles securely, leaving the blonde woman half naked and helpless on the sofa. He looked down at her and lightly brushed his fingertips over one of her trembling nipples.

"You get off on this, don't you, you common slut? Well, I'll show you what a real man can do. I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before. And you're gonna love it."

Veronica fought against the ropes. The more she struggled, the tighter the knots became. She felt the circulation cutting off her hands and feet. Naked to the waist, she thought she was at least going to escape having him fuck her. If he tried to untie her legs to get her skirt off, she could kick him away.

Mr. Marshall came back with a large pair of scissors. He shoved the sharp-pointed instrument next to the girl's tender-fleshed leg. She cringed and tried to get away. She couldn't. The ropes held her too securely. He pressed the scissors into her skin and began cutting away her pantyhose. She gasped when he reached her thigh, her skirt bunched up around her waist.

He was so close to her cunt!

"Please, Mr. Marshall, let's talk about it. We can -"

"We've talked. It's time I did something."

He began cutting across her snatch. She felt the cold metal blades pressing against her cunt lips. He had caught her bikini briefs and sheared them away at the same time.

By the time he was all the way down her other leg, the lovely young woman was totally naked on the sofa. Never had she felt more helpless in her life. She watched a man she thought she knew tower over her and menace her.

"Now we fuck," he said.

She shivered with cold and fear. His hands caressed her belly, moved to the blonde tangle of her pussy mound. He grabbed a handful of her fleecy cornsilk pubic hair and jerked. She screamed as her hips lifted involuntarily off the sofa.

"This is the way I want your hips to be when I'm ready to fuck your cunt. Do you understand?"

"Mr. Marshall, please, don't do this to me."

"Do you understand?" he demanded again.

He pulled harder on the handful of pussy fur he held. She though she would go out of her mind with pain. It had been rough when she'd lost her cherry when she was only fifteen, but the pain had been nothing like this. She had loved the nearness of cock then and, in spite of her misgivings, she had thought any cock in her body was better than getting none.

But this was torture. The man who should have been interviewing her for the job was misusing her – abusing her!

"Yes, oh God, Mr. Marshall, stop! Don't do it to me! Not like this."

She began to sob quietly. The tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to reach out and wipe them away, but with her hands bound over her head, she couldn't.

She had to watch Mr. Marshall slowly undress. He peeled out of his shirt and showed his sagging chest, gleaming with the sweat of exertion from tying her up. As he shucked out of his pants, she was surprised to see his hard-on. It quivered and jerked at attention in front of his crotch. She had been expecting him to force her to suck on it to make it hard. But his cock was already a fully functioning fuck stick.

He threw away the last of his clothes and jumped onto the couch.

Veronica groaned as the springs bounced under her. This caused her arms and legs to feel as if they would be pulled out of their sockets. She didn't know if she was more scared or more turned on.

The sight of the man's cock did things to her. She remembered how good it had been once, how she had enjoyed fucking men. But now, he was so demanding that he had turned her off. Veronica didn't know how to react.

So her body responded for her.

Thick juices began boiling in her pussy. She felt the sluggish fluid leaking around her puckered pussy lips and running down into the crack of her ass. As the love oils ran into her asshole, she remembered with growing lust how it would feel having Mr. Marshall fucking her there.

In spite of herself, the blue-eyed blonde was getting more and more turned on.

"Get that ass off the couch like I told you!" snapped Mr. Marshall.

"Please, Mr. Marshall, let me go. We can work this out."

"Do it!

The frightened girl didn't have the chance to obey. Rough hands grabbed a double handful of assflesh and lifted until she was straining at the limits of her bonds. She shrieked in agony. What was worse was the way his fingers dived down into the humid canyon between her buttocks. She couldn't help remembering the gentle touch Stan had used the night before. And she hadn't really responded then. But she was getting hotter and hotter now because of Mr. Marshall's rough treatment.

Veronica was confused. She didn't know what to do, what to feel. She felt her hips lifting in response to the brutal man's orders.

"That's more like it. Now what do you want up that slimy cunt of yours?" He lifted even harder until Veronica thought her arms would come unglued from her body.

"Your c-c-cock!" she stuttered. "Stuff it in and fuck my cunt!"

"Good, but not good enough. You're going to have to beg me for my cock after all you've said. It's not dull, is it, having me fuck you? Tell me, dammit, tell me!"

Veronica hardly knew what to do or say. Lightning bolts of blazing agony lanced into her shoulders. She thought her hips would break under the strain. As the man kneeled between her wide-spread legs, she experienced a completely and totally helpless feeling that wouldn't go away. It was even worse than when she went to her doctor to have her cunt examined. Feet in those metal stirrups made her feel exposed; this was infinitely worse.

"Please fuck me!" she gasped. She would do anything to make the pain go away. She was humiliated and debased. Anything that would get the man's rocks off so he would leave her alone was okay with her.

"Again. Tell me again and in more detail."

"I need you fucking my cunt. I need to feel your cock buried all the way up my pussy. I need it sooooo!"

She was shrieking with the misery of her situation. And when the man's cock slammed into her delicately scalloped inner cunt lips, she shrieked again. It was so unexpected that it sent a tremor of fear throughout her tender, young, bound body.

The head of his throbbing cock parted her slippery cunt lips and sank into her body. She thrashed around but couldn't really move. His hands brutally pinched her asscheeks and lifted her off the couch. His prick shot another inch into her convulsing cunt.

She gasped and tried to tell him to stop. The words wouldn't come. In spite of her predicament, Veronica found herself being more and more turned on. This was a different style of fucking. Veronica hardly knew her own body any more. She couldn't respond to her own husband, but Mr.

Marshall's rough fucking made her all wet in the pussy and hot to feel even more of his long, hard prick fucking into her. She was too confused. The lovely young woman didn't know what to make of it.

What did it matter if she didn't approve of being tied up while he was fucking her?

His prick sank another couple inches into her virgin-tight cunt. She quit struggling and tried to enjoy the fucking. The ropes cut savagely into her wrists and ankles and made her feel cold all over. But his cock warmed her right up the center of her body.

The blue-eyed blonde's loins blazed hot as Mr. Marshall slammed balls deep into her cunt. She felt the tender walls of her pussy rushing to expand around the thick plug of his cock. She gasped with delight when his hips began stirring the prick around inside her. She was able to enjoy every single twitch and pulsation that way.

"What do you want, bitch?" the man demanded. "Tell me what you want me to do. And it had better be the right thing!"

"Fuck meeeee!" she screamed.

His hips slammed forward, burying his prick even deeper in her cunt.

She sobbed with the pain and pleasure as his body ground into hers. He had smashed so hard and fast into her cunt that her pussy lips had been folded inside. Her cunt walls collapsed mightily around his cock as orgasm seized control of her body. She thrashed around, straining once more against the ropes binding her.

Something about being unable to move freely added fuel to the fires of her come. She thrashed harder, felt more restrained by the ropes and burned brighter with her climax.

"Fuck me, damn you, fuck me, fuck me, fuck meeee!" she bellowed.

The man gasped as her pussy crushed down on his prick. He pulled back against the intense pressure surrounding him. He thought a hand in a velvet glove had gripped his prick. But the lewd squishing sound as he broke the incredible suction of her cunt told him different. He wasted no time ramming his cock back in to the hilt. His balls slapped wetly against her upturned ass as he repeatedly fucked her.

Total delight seized Veronica. She let herself go. There wasn't anything else she could do. And the feel of his cock working so insistently against her pussy warmed her with more and more friction.

The thick cockhead expanded as his powerful strokes lengthened.

Every single thrust into her agitated cunt lifted her ass off the bed now. He didn't have to grasp her asscheeks and pull at them as he had done earlier. She felt her own inner juices lubricating her crotch as his bush ground passionately into hers.

"More! Fuck me more!" she cried. All she heard was the pounding of her own pulse in her head and the man's deep grunts as he exerted himself even more.

She thought she would die if he stopped fucking. But he was too turned on by the situation to stop. She came hard. The orgasm was the sweetest she had had from any man. But Mr. Marshall hardly noticed her intense joy as her cunt tightened around his cock. His balls had shrunk and the intense passion locked inside with the boiling hot jism spurred him on.

He fucked faster. His hands rested on either side of the bound girl's body. His prick vanished into the golden nest of her pussy and stroked hard along the juicy walls of her cunt. The heat from her guts boiled out and set fire to his fuse. The heat inched back along his cock until it reached the powder keg of his balls.

He exploded. His prick reamed her out and then it erupted. Hot jism fountained from the end of his cock. He shrieked in joy and arched his back to drive himself even farther into the bound woman's pussy.

Veronica almost came again. Almost. And it was that wracking need that made her strain so hard against the ropes that they cut into her flesh and caused blood to flow.

"More, you ignorant cocksucker. Fuck me more!" she begged. "I need it!

God, do I need more fucking! Your cock, gimme your fucking cock.

Please, oh, please…"

Veronica relaxed on the sofa, sobbing. She turned her head to one side so she wouldn't have to see Mr. Marshall straighten. His prick limply slid from her cunt amid a flow of her own oils and his spent come.

"Good," the man said. "I approve of a woman who knows how to be a team player. Do you want the job? If you do – and you know the rules around here now – it's yours."

Veronica didn't speak to him as he snipped her wrists and ankles free of their bonds. She rolled over on the sofa, crying. But she was confused. The blue-eyed blonde didn't know exactly what she was crying about.

Was it because the man had raped her? Or was it because she had gotten off on it? She had enjoyed this bizarre fucking as much as she had enjoyed more sedate fucking when she'd first gotten married. She felt alive inside, in spite of the humiliation and degradation of the rape.

"I… I'll take the job," she gasped out. It sounded like a stranger's voice. But the warmth in her loins was familiar. It was the same lovely feeling in her guts that she'd always had after a hard fucking back in the good old days. The days before she'd become frigid.

"Good. Report to work tomorrow morning at eight. You'll be under Karl Bennet in the purchasing department."

Mr. Marshall went back to his desk, already dressed and looking bored.

Veronica slowly sat up and rubbed her wrists. The buttons on her blouse were all gone. She didn't bother looking for them. She pulled the front of her tweet jacket tightly around her, pulled down the wrinkled brown tweed shirt and walked out of the office on shaky legs.

But she'd gotten the job!

And the spark of fire inside her had been rekindled in a bizarre, outrageously degrading way.