Chapter 17: office slave

*With thanks to my editor – Chris6160

Author’s note: this, like other parts of the story, is about BDSM . It is the story of a consenting female submissive. If such subject material does not appeal to you then please choose not to read it. The law in many countries is such that consent is not a legal defence against committing “harm” to another. The definition of “harm” in this sense is very unclear. To be safe only the very few images that exist which show red marks consistent with a light punishment can be shown in this series.

A further complication is that the use of photos in many countries requires the permission of both the photographer and the person(s) in the image. It is too complicated to secure written permission when anyone else appears in the photo. For this reason, many of the photos included were not taken at the same time as the events described but are intended to help the reader visualise the events. This and the need to not show what could legally be classed as “harm” limits the number of available shots which show red marks. One appears at the end of part 8, another in part 14 and yet another in this part. The intent is to prove that I do know what it feels like for my body to be punished.

I wondered back over my different adventures as a submissive, realising just what a liberating experience it had been for me. I had gradually transformed from been hidebound by my inhibitions to an exciting sex life in which I had realised many of my underlying fantasises. Rather my inner self had compelled my body to live out my exhibitionist and cruel fantasies for it. I had no regrets at all.

That being said there were also the fantasies that I had never realised and possibly never would. I had at all times been drawn to the branding scene in the Story of O and was intrigued by the accounts of branding in the Keith Raniere trial. Having my body branded was definitely a fantasy. A key part of my submissive instincts was for my body to be treated as a commodity, as someone’s property. I had few doubts that branding would be intensely painful at first, more painful than I could enjoy, but I believed that I could live with the subsequent soreness. It would be worth it to see the mark of ownership on my deserving and subservient body. It was not the pain that troubled me. It was the irreversibility that concerned me. For now, I had no fear of being recognised as a submissive, for example, on the beach. I would be proud to show my submission, to let the world know that my body was the property of another. I often shared my fantasies with my husband. He knew that, if commanded, I would keep my word to tolerate any and all abuse of my body, including being branded. I also knew that he favoured the idea but was very hesitant about proceeding; concerned that it might cross the lines of legality.

Branding was not the only submissive fantasy of mine that was as yet unfilled. It was unlikely that it would ever be fulfilled. Other big fantasies were for my body to be put up for sale by auction and to be put on trial in a fantasy law court. These were eventually fulfilled as you will find in later parts of my story. For once my next adventure was not initially one of my husband’s schemes nor was it the result of any long-held fantasy. It happened unexpectedly and the fact that it was opportunistic rather than planned added to the excitement. An essential part of my (part-time) life as a submissive has been the sheer diversity of my different adventures. This one did not disappoint in providing new methods for my body to be abused.

My husband had booked a table in a highly rated restaurant some distance from home. The only booking we could make was for early evening so we had time to kill after dinner before catching the train home.

I was dressed conservatively by my ordinary standards – namely not very provocatively – but, as I often did, I included clues that other BDSM practitioners could identify. In this case it was not subtle; I wore a small black leather slave collar. The photo is the same dress but taken on another occasion.

We found a busy bar and settled in for a few drinks. I am used to men hitting on me in bars, even when I am with my husband. I noticed one man watching me carefully. He was, I guessed, in his late 40s and passably good looking. There was something about him, in his expensive designer suit worn with an air of self-confidence and authority. As soon as my husband was in the men’s room he came over and introduced himself as Tony.

Tony was full of compliments and it was immediately obviously that he had a presence, a charisma based on charm. It was impossible for me not to be attracted to him and, even more appealing to my submissive nature, he had an aura of power about him. When my husband returned Tony was not in any way phased. He told my husband how lucky he was to have such a gorgeous companion.

As conversation continued I l knew that my husband sensed the growing sexual chemistry between Tony and myself. Tony asked about the slave collar, which he obviously recognised. As usual alcohol had made me bold.

“I wanted to show that my body is the property of my husband here. I am his slave”.

Tony nodded knowingly. “I am a dominant myself”.

As the conversation developed the subject of limits and safe words came up. Tony seemed pleasantly surprised to find that I had neither.

“Wow! It would be a dream to do anything I like with a body like that.”

My husband intervened to tell Tony that it might be feasible for him to lend my body to Tony but, perhaps, he would like to drop round to our house to discuss arrangements in private.

Arrangements were made for the following evening. Neither of us had met Tony before. It would be presented as an opportunity for Tony to inspect my body in advance but it was also a chance to ensure that “absolutely anything at all” would exclude life threatening acts or risk of permanent damage.

In the slave competition Christos had left my body chained naked in our downstairs office to await collection. Huband had liked the idea and arranged my body in an identical way to await the visit of Tony. My husband deliberately chained my body and left me alone with my thoughts well before Tony was due to arrive. He knew well that this would heighten the experience of humiliation for me. I felt deliciously vulnerable, my body chained, waiting for the attention of someone who wanted to use and abuse it. My attraction to Tony’s aura of self-confidence and authority made the anticipation even sexier. The sese of power he exuded was yet more arousing. I couldn’t wait for him to exercise complete power of my subservient body.

Finally, I heard the doorbell ring and the voices as my husband welcomed Tony into the house.

My husband spoke: “I have prepared your slave’s body for your inspection in the office here.”

I felt a wave of sexual desire, as if I could feel the hormones pulse through my veins. The door opened. Tony stood there just looking at my chained body.

“Good grief. She is even sexier than I imagined. There are so many things I would love to do to that wonderful body”.

He approached and ran his hands over first one breast then another. His first touch sent excitement through my body. Somehow his air of authority, his aura of power immediately conveyed the sense that my body was unquestionably his to use, abuse and control. Something told me that he would be a strict, possibly cruel owner. His hands ran over my well-toned abdomen and then slowly, gently up and down each thigh. The wondered of my chained and naked body being carefully assessed and appreciated was intensely arousing to me. His hands moved to my labia, squeezing both lips of the labia hard. I struggled not to moan with pleasure. Finally, one finger then two probed my wet pussy. It felt so good to feel him probing my most intimate parts as if they were his property. He withdrew both fingers and licked them carefully, tasting the moistness on them.

The sense of his power and his sexual dominance was overwhelming. Had he continued an early orgasm would have been inevitable. My husband and Tony left to discuss the arrangements for the loan of my body. I was left feeling very aroused. Had my hands been free I would have easily achieved the climax that was close. Perhaps it was a fitting torment that it could not. I could not help but wonder what the immediate future would hold. It would be so, so sexy for my body to be the property of a man who was so effortlessly dominant, one whom could convincingly exert such total control. My inner self hoped that my body would be humiliated and, above all, receive the cruelty that it deserved. Something told me that he knew well how to inflict pain. I was already more than ready for my body to receive it.

My husband and Tony eventually returned, drawing up chairs. I remained naked and chained. I was impatient to know what been decided for my body but, as a slave, I knew better than to speak uninvited. My husband told me that he would deliver my body to Tony’s office in two days’ time. I was to be his office slave for two days. I would be kept in the office overnight in chains and I should bring both pussy rings for the purpose. When he had meetings my body would be kept in a cage in a storeroom until he was free to use it again. I should also bring an item of swimwear to provide minimal coverage of my body if needed.

Tony concluded, “Your beautiful, sexy body will reach new heights of pleasure and it will pay for it in pain and humiliation.”

The tone of the words was so certain, so assured and so controlling that I wanted it to happen there and then.

My husband said, “Slave, do you have anything to say to the new owner of your body?”

“Sir, my body is your property to do absolutely anything that you wish to do with it. There are no limits or safe words”.

He replied, “Such a sexy body. I just cannot avoid touching it.”

Again he fondled, breast, thighs and pussy. Turning to my husband he asked, “Do you have a leather belt please?”

My husband took off his own belt and handed it to Tony. He stepped back a little and drew back his right shoulder. Swish, thwack and a stinging blow to my right thigh. He paused expertly to watch my body squirm in response to the initial sting. Another swish, thwack as a second blow struck. He certainly knew how to deliver a hard, sharp sting. Another two blows struck my left thigh, each with a pause between. Suddenly there was a change of pace and there was a frenzy of blows to my abdomen, each hard and stinging. My body writhed involuntarily as it struggled to take one blow after another.

Stepping back, he handed the belt back to my husband and moved forward to inspect the red marks on my nude body.

“That was a taste. Your body is even sexier when it squirms in pain. The red stripes are also incredibly sexy on it. Remember that I have no interest in what your body likes or dislikes. It will be used solely for my sadistic pleasure.”

I simply nodded in agreement. My inner self couldn’t wait.

My husband and I turned up at Tony’s office and took the lift to the top floor. Tony was there to greet us and ushered us into his office. It was gigantic and lavishly furnished. Tony sat in his leather chair behind the desk. My husband handed him my swimwear and pussy rings. He then removed my coat to reveal my completely naked body, save for my high heeled shoes. I immediately adopted my ordinary posture to make my body available; legs aside and hands clasped behind my back. Tony looked at my body slowly and carefully. I felt very, very sexy not just from the exhibitionism and humiliation but also in the knowledge that my flesh was now his property.

He ordered me to put on the “slingshot” and to walk around the room. The photo, obviously, was taken at a different time but is the same swimsuit.

“Perfect. It shows off your body well and is, just about, technically decent. You will only wear it when I tell you. Unless I do you will remain completely naked, perhaps restrained or leashed and perhaps not according to my whim. You will encounter some of my employees. You are by no means the first slave that I have brought to the office, so they are used to my unusual habits. You are not permitted to talk to them or to acknowledge their presence in any way without my express permission. If they speak you will not respond. Above all you must not allow them to touch your body without my permission, even if you are restrained. If you fail to obey your body will be subject to a level of cruelty than even a submissive slut like you will find hard to bear.”

He looked at me as if expecting a response. I looked down submissively.

“Yes sir. Please use your property as you desire”

I was a little surprised that my husband did not leave. Apparently it had been agreed that he could stay as an observer.

It has often puzzled me why dominants so often like the bodies of their slaves oiled. Probably it makes the body look sexier. I had also heard that it increases the pain from a beating, but I doubt that from personal experience. In any case I am not complaining. I discover having massage oils rubbed into my naked body a wholly pleasurable experience, particularly when it includes a very thorough oiling of the labia and vagina. Tony was particularly thorough in that respect.

Tony dragged a table across the room so that it adjoined his desk. He covered it with something akin to large towel. He instructed me to lie on the table and adjusted my position by tugging on my arms and legs until he was happy with my position.

“I need to make some business telephone calls and I want to be able to see your naked body so I can think what I would like to do to it later. You must keep exactly that position. If you move I will beat your body.”

I knew that Tony was strict, that instructions were not given twice. I tried to hold the position but before he had made the first call, without thinking I moved slightly. On his desk was a long flexible plastic ruler. With a single movement he picked up the ruler and wacked my tits with it hard. I struggled to keep still, failed, and received a second blow. My inner self, as at all times, was delighted in my body’s pain and humiliation. He started hist first call and without interrupting his conversation inflicted another blow on my abdomen.

It continued in this way throughout several calls. During each call the slightest movement would trigger an immediate blow to my naked flesh. My thighs, breasts and abdomen became very familiar with the sting of the flexible ruler. The pain was not intense and my body was becoming used to the beating. There was something very sexy in the game of domination and submission. Giving me an impossible position to hold was a delightful way for him to assert the control and dominance over my body. Psychologically the cat and mouse approach heightened my sense of being owned, of my body being a commodity for his sadistic lust. The delicious thwacks to my nude flesh heightened the experience further. I was very ready for sexual intercourse.

Once Tony had finished with his company calls I was commanded to stand up and put on both the swimsuit and my high heeled shoes. I waited for further instruction.

“Slave, deliver these documents to the despatch room in the basement and return here.”

I took the elevator to the basement. The doors opened into a scruffy room with piles of boxes. Inside were two slightly rough looking men in brown overall coats. I remembered my instruction not to speak so I held my hand out with the documents. Neither made any effort to take them.

“Walk up and down,” one of them instructed. I did as told, not forgetting that the swimsuit only left a little to the imagination. I walked slowly, with a sexy sway.

“This one is special, much sexier than the others.”

The two men looked at each other and gave a wicked smile to each other. One scribbled on a piece of paper, folded it and slipped into the hand that was holding the documents.

“Take that and the order forms back to your Master.”

In the lift I couldn’t withstand looking at the note. It said, “If you want the orders sent please send them back with your slave naked and with permission to grope.”

I handed the note to Tony without speaking. He opened it and roared with laughter.

“Take that swimsuit off. Go back and return the order forms to the despatch room. You should allow the guys to fondle that sexy body as much as they like.”

I returned to the basement, again, now wholly nude, walking as slowly and sexily as I could. This time they took the documents. I stood with legs aside and hands clasped behind my back to allow access.

“I cannot remember a sexier naked female body than that.” The other man agreed.

My sexual hormones were working in overdrive. The humiliation and the knowledge of the groping to come was superbly arousing. When they got to that stage they would discover a very wet pussy. Rough hands roamed over my thighs and abdomen, then over my breasts and my ass. All of this appealed so much to my exhibitionist nature and, even better, the humiliation of my owner requiring me to supply my body for the pleasure of strangers enabled me to free the slut inside. Finally, they took it in turns to probe my vagina, the first with two fingers and the second, less comfortably with three.

“That was the sexiest body I have explored,” said one.

The other slapped my ass. “Back to your Master with you. He will have plenty of use for your body.”

As I returned to Tony’s office he was in the middle of a telephone conversation. He beckoned me to sit in a chair and wait. Putting down the phone he started to speak.

“I am going to tell you a little of the immediate future for your body. I have a meeting here a little later and I will shortly introduce you to my special slave room. As you know I occasionally have a slave in my office and I have it specially equipped for my use of slaves in what was once a storeroom. During my meeting you will be kept in the room, restrained and inside a cage until I am ready to make use of your body. You will also be spending the night chained in the room. Much as I would love to spend the night with you, I cannot take you home. I am married. That is why I have slaves in my office. All my employees have signed confidential non-disclosure agreements.”

“I also need to tell you that as soon as I saw you in the bar wearing a slave collar I knew that I needed desperately to possess your body, if only for a time. From the first moment I fantasised about what I would do with that superbly sexy body. You will discover what I had in mind. Your complete obedience is expected.”

He passed me my pussy rings and I obediently fitted them in place. I was ordered to stand. A slave collar was fitted and my hands cuffed behind my back. He also fitted metal shackles to my ankles and a length of chain between them. The helplessness of my nude body was incredibly sexy. I could only shuffle rather than walk. My body was now even more a commodity for his sexual pleasure. I expected it to be sadistic. This would be the stuff of a number of my fantasies.