9:27 am, on the button, the office door creaked open. All the quiet figures inside turned towards the sound of groaning hinges, punctuated by the clipping of expensive heels on the tile floor. Everybody knew who it was; everybody knew she was late. They all just wanted to look.

Waltzing through the door without a care – and very aware of the eyes fixed upon her – she casually flicked her hair. It was only short, barely shoulder length in fact, but the motion still gave life to her straightened brunette locks and let them flow elegantly about her; a few stray lengths swiped across her cheeks like tiny cat-o'-nine-tails. They almost seemed to be reaching across her, desperate to touch her full red lips. They weren't alone in that sentiment.

“You're late,” a voice boomed across the room just as the door clicked shut behind her. All the prying eyes immediately dived for shelter in the flimsy cover of their work cubicles. “Again.”

She didn't cower. She didn't even flinch. Her smile simply grew a little further, her back seemed to straighten and she turned with a simperingly sweet look towards him: a tall, dark-haired man in the jet black suit, striding out of the large office at the end of the room.

“Yes, Sir. I am sorry, Sir.” Her voice was sweet and soft to an almost unnatural degree, her feet twisting coyly into the floor as she clenched her hands behind her back. She looked the image of the contrite naughty schoolgirl apologising to the headmaster. It was an act she'd perfected.

“So you continue to tell me and yet you continue to come later and later every day, Ms...”

“Please, Sir, call me Veronica,” she cut across him, her sickly sweet smile never sliding as he stared her down. People were beginning to peer over the cubicles again. Veronica tugged at her blouse, straightening it in an attempt to tuck it into the small black skirt perched high atop her long, soft legs. The material bulged and strained over her firm breasts, the buttons straining.

“Very well, Veronica,” he replied after a protracted face-off. “Consider this your final week.” Her face fell as though she'd been struck. He turned into the office as she cried out.

“No! Wait, Sir, I...”

The office echoed with the rampant clicking of heels as she hurried towards him. All eyes were now fixed on the pair of them. He turned as she barrelled into his wide chest, throwing her arms around him.

“Just what on Earth are you...”

“Please, Sir. Give me another chance!” Her soft tone had become a lot more hurried and desperate. “I know I've been late too much, but I'll... I'll make it up to you! This job means a lot to me.” Her voice grew quieter and quieter as she spoke, until she was almost whispering to him. “You know I love working here, Sir. With you.”

Her breasts heaved against his chest, her hair spilling across his shirt. He could only stand there still, struck dumb. Her fingers walked over his body as she pressed herself into him. He didn't know where to put his hands for the best, uncomfortably leaning against the door-frame. She looked up into his eyes, her own so beautifully big and watery.

“I'll do anything, Sir.”

He didn't know what it was that caused it. Maybe it was her scent, perhaps the feel of her pressed against him. It could have been his inner pervert growing excited at the pleading, desperate look in her beautiful eyes. Whatever it was, it went straight to his groin and flooded his manhood with a surge of blood. With closed eyes, he desperately wished it away, but the growth was inevitable. He knew she could feel it when she jumped, the pressure of his swollen length against her hip giving away his inexplicable excitement.

No amount of deep breathing and unsexy thoughts could help him, it just grew and grew until he could feel the throb and tightness in his balls. Opening his eyes, he panicked to find she had stepped away from him. Dozens of eyes stared his way – at the unmistakable bulge in his trousers. Veronica stood opposite looking coy and mischievous.

'Own it. Don't show any weakness,' he told himself, straightening up and clearing his throat.

“All of you, eyes down and back to work. Now!” his voice rebounded against the walls as every head in the office dove for cover. “And you...” he pointed to Veronica, his arm gesturing into his office. “My office. Now.”

He stood and watched her shuffle towards the door, his large frame blocking the exit as he followed her inside and the door slammed shut behind them.

The closure of the door made her jump. Veronica's normal easy confidence had subsided a little at the sudden strength in his voice. She had never heard him this way before. She stood contritely in the corner of the room, nervously watching him close the blinds to the inner office.

“I... I'm sorry, Sir, I...”

“No you're not.” It was his turn to cut across her speech. She opened her mouth, stuttered, and failed as he rounded towards her. “You're not sorry at all. You're just scared for your job. The fact is, Veronica...” he strode menacingly towards her as he spoke, gaining on her no matter how much she retreated – until her back pressed tight against the wall. “You're a little cock-tease, aren't you?”

She blinked, looking up at him and suddenly remembering just how tall he really was as he blocked out the light. “I...”

“You're a flirtatious, teasing, confident girl,” he continued, regardless. “Yes, I did say girl. You come in here smiling and simpering, swishing your hair and you think you can ride all over us because you're a cute little girl who everybody wants to be friendly with. Am I right?”

She opened her mouth, but he wasn't stopping.

“You continue to disrespect me, to ignore my warnings and to do exactly as you please. Then you think it's clever to attempt to embarrass me in front of the office.”

“N-no, Sir, I...”

His voice grew deeper, not louder, and a single syllable simply silenced her.

“Ah! Yes, I think so. You think if you walk in here with your tits out front and your arse shaking in those heels then you can do whatever you damn-well please, isn't that it?”

“N-no, Sir, I...” her voice failed, trailing away.

“Then what is it, Veronica? Then why do you continue to defy me? To disrespect me?”

“I d-don't mean to, Sir, I... I just...”

He sliced through her stammer. “You just what, Veronica? Hm? You just can't help flaunting about like a little trollop, is that it?”

She gasped and shook her head. “N-no, Sir, I...”

He leaned in so close that she could smell his aftershave washing over her. Her protests faded.

“You should be careful, Veronica. You might think this big act is clever, but it could land you in some serious trouble, girl.” He left the sentence hanging, their eyes locked together. A shiver visibly ran over her slender body, pimpling her skin. Something in his voice made her knees tremble.

“Sir? I... What do you...” she asked through shaky, heavy breaths.

She could only watch his hand advance on her, her head pressed back against the wall, unable to escape. A single finger slowly stroked over her pale cheek.

“I mean that if you go around acting like an entitled little slut...” Stroking his palm slowly down her neck, his fingers walked encircled her throat. Bound in place, she shivered in his grip. “Then you might find that someone will start to treat you like one. Do you understand?”

Her wide eyes never blinked, but her chest heaved for every desperate, laboured breath. A feeble whimper escaped her, but it only caused his grip to tighten. Her eyes rolled back into her head and the whimper turned traitorously into a moan as she was stretched to her tip-toes.

“I said, do you understand?” he growled.

She nodded, giving a little whine as he eased the pressure. Her feet flat on the floor once more, her thighs came together and found an unmistakable wetness oozing from her sex. The feel of her need fresh against her thighs brought another tiny moan from her chest, her eyes clamping tight. This didn't go unnoticed.

“Ohh. I knew it.” He smirked. “I had you pegged for a dirty little slut from the start, I should have known you'd be like this. Feeling wet, Veronica?”

Her eyes flew open as he clenched around her windpipe once more. She shook her head, but the burning flush in her cheeks betrayed her shame.

“Oh yes, you are. I can feel you shaking and there's only one reason you just crossed your thighs and moaned, you little slut. It's just a shame that the whole office can't see you, like they saw me, isn't it?”

“I'm sorry, Sir, I... I didn't mean...”

A smile came across his face that filled her heart with dread. His grip never relaxed, but when he spoke his voice was softer, almost mockingly so.

“You say you really need this job, Veronica, yes?” She nodded. “And you'd do anything to keep it?” She nodded, this time far more slowly. Her eyes shifted nervously and he started to laugh. “Oh good, well I think you can start by apologising to everybody for making such a scene right now, don't you?”

She blinked, swallowed, and took a deep breath before she nodded, but just the once. With his grip released, she leaned on her knees, panting through her panic. Just a few seconds later she cried out again. A sudden sharp stinging pain seared her scalp as he grabbed a handful of her perfect hair and yanked her upright. She wanted to scream, but the unblinking gaze that met her petrified her to silence

“Well, go on, slut. Go apologise.” He released her hair and she straightened, trying to compose herself. Her hands tried to smooth out her blouse, but he batted them away. “Oh no. No pretence. No tidying yourself up. I love how dishevelled and desperate you look right now. That red flush suits you – much better than the pristine little princess who strolls in here whenever she damn well feels like. Go on, now. Open that door, go out there with your wet thighs clenched together, and apologise to everybody for your terrible behaviour. In fact...”

He popped the top button her blouse, lowering her already dangerously revealing neckline further. The faintest hint of a deep purple bra peeked from behind the thin material, cupping the beautiful creamy breasts so tight. He knew her nipples must've been cutting through the fabric.

“There. Now go.” His hand cracked across her arse as he ushered her towards the door, opened it wide, and pushed her out into the office.

The sea of eyes peeked up as the door opened and Veronica shuffled uncertainly out to meet them. She trembled a little and crossed her legs, immediately regretting it as she remembered her wet shame. It was all she could manage not to moan aloud.

“Veronica has something she would like to say, don't you, Veronica?” The deep voice boomed from behind her. This gave permission to her peering peers to all lock fully focus on her as she stood there, squirming. “Come on, girl. Don't start being shy now, all of a sudden.”

“I... I'm sorry,” she croaked.

There came a deep tutting sound. “Louder, girl.”

“I'm sorry,” she spoke shakily.

“Sorry?” he asked with mock confusion. “What are you ever sorry for?”

“I'm... I'm sorry about my conduct. My behaviour. It's not good enough...”

Behind her, she could hear him chuckling. He whispered in her ear and her whole body tensed. She shivered, shaking her head almost imperceptibly, but a quiet, stern growl in her ear broke her resolve. With a deep breath and a reddening of her cheeks, she spoke again.

“I've been a bad girl.”

“Good!” he cried, stepping out of the office. “There, so that's that, we can all go back to normal now, can't we? Good. Back to work everyone!”

All workers hurried back to their tasks and Veronica took a step away from the office, but a single monotone grunt behind her stopped her dead.

“Not you,” he chuckled, quietly. “I'm not done with you, yet. Inside.”

Her eyes scrunched tight, her thighs pressed together and her teeth clenched. The finality of his words - the sharpness of his tone - just cut her to the core. She could feel the pulsing of her pussy with every word. She hated it. Stepping inside, her muscles quivered. The wave of his aftershave washed over her, the door closed shut and locked with the faintest click. The sound echoed through her head.

“Well,” he walked around her to sit casually on the edge of his desk. “That's the workforce placated, at least, isn't it?”

She nodded, still inarticulate and becoming less able to meet his eyes by the second.

“Now there's just the small matter of how you apologise to me.”

“Yes, Sir,” she croaked. “I am sorry, Sir. I am. I won't be late anymore, I...”

His patronising chuckle muted her instantly. Her cheeks felt as though they would combust as she stared at his shoes and quivered on the spot.

“Oh, no, Veronica. No. I'm afraid no ordinary 'I'm so sorry, Sir, never again, Sir' is going to cut it this time, miss. Not only do I deserve a real apology, I feel like I need some real assurance that this isn't going to happen anymore. Don't you agree?”

A deep, nervous swallow and the upwards flicker of her eyes was all she could manage. She doubted she could have spoken if she even knew what to say.

“How are things with your boyfriend, Veronica?”

She blinked, shocked by the question, and suddenly ashamed at the way she had forgotten him, standing there wet and shivering in her boss's office. It took her a second to compose herself, before she finally replied.

“Fiancé.”

His face lit up.

“Ohhh. Even better! Fantastic! Congratulations, Veronica!”

She swallowed again, uneasy with his excitement. “Th-thank you, Sir.”

“Does he know what a dirty little slut his fiancée is, I wonder? Does he know how you walk around here shaking your stuff for everyone who walks by?”

“Please, Sir, I don't-”

“Oh but you do, Veronica. You do. No doubt he thinks you're doing very very well here, am I right? You go home and tell him how hard you're working, how you've got the boss eating out of your hand?”

She shook her head, but he only laughed.

“Oh, I'm sure you do. Look at me.” She raised her eyes, furiously blinking back shameful tears. “How would he react to you losing your job here?”

“Oh no, Sir, please, I can't-!”

A single raised finger halted her protests. “You don't want me to tell him what you're like at work, then, do you, Slut?”

The emphasis he put on her new title made her scrunch up her eyes, squeeze her thighs, and whine to herself.

“No, Sir.”

“I shouldn't tell him about the transparent blouses and braless summer days?” Her eyes dropped to the floor once more. “Or about the tiny little skirts that are always riding up and showing off your little panties?”

She shook her head, biting her full lip to control her shivering. “N-no, Sir.”

“Look at me.” His voice wasn't so forceful anymore, but its strength still carried. She glanced up, meekly, stroking her hair from her eyes. He was beckoning her closer, still lounging on his desk. Her feet autonomously carried her forward until she stood close enough for her knee to touch his.

His strong hands reached out, thick fingers walking along her hips. Every muscle and fibre in her body vibrated with apprehension. He tugged and plucked at her blouse, releasing it from the tight waistband of her skirt. Veronica gnawed on her lip, trying to remain calm as he began to deftly flick the buttons free, the material falling open by the inch. The warm office air still felt cool against her navel, goose-bumping her flesh. She felt her nipples stiffen to diamond as he reached for the final button.

“N-no, Sir, please...”

He stopped, but his hands didn't leave her. She glanced nervously into his firm, level gaze, and crumbled beneath it, looking immediately away with teary eyes.

“What did you say, Slut?”

Again she flinched, but found the strength to reply.

“Please, Sir, don't...”

“Don't what? Treat you like a slut? But this is how you want to be treated, isn't it, Veronica?”

She shook, choking back a cry as his big hand wrapped tight around her blouse and pulled her closer. She could feel his breath on her chest, his scent intoxicating her just when his big firm palm cupped the wet, ruined gusset of her panties beneath her skirt. She cried out a little, gasping for a desperate breath of air. Jis fingertips teased along the patent outline of her very wet and very swollen folds. They followed the trail down the inside of her thighs and collected the tiniest droplets of her escaping juices. His grip relaxed just enough that she could watch him brazenly suck his fingers clean, theatrically moaning at the taste of her.

The pulse of need from her cunt was undeniable. Her eyes rolled into her head and she whimpered with the sheer powerless of it all.

“Well, that is one juicy little pussy for someone who doesn't want to be treated like a slut, Veronica.”

“Please, I...”

“Yes, I know. You love it. You wish you didn't, but we both know you do. This is just how you want to be treated, isn't it? I bet fiancé doesn't treat you like this, does he?” She shook her head. “No, you're his little princess, aren't you? He wouldn't know what a filthy little slut his babygirl really is deep down, would he? He wouldn't know, for instance, that at the Christmas party you sucked Josh dry in the car park so he would complete your assignment for the new year.”

Her eyes darted up, mouth falling open – trying and failing to speak. She wanted to protest, deny it, but she couldn't. Just looking into his eyes made her wet and her voice failed.

“I didn't think he'd know about that. I bet you didn't think I knew about that either, did you?”

She shook her head once more, letting out a tiny little sob.

“Oh it's okay, don't cry, Slut. I won't tell him.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. She swallowed and managed to croak out, “You won't?”

A warm smile came across his face, a single finger wiping away her tears. His fingers softly caressed her hair. “No, I won't tell him. Provided you're a good girl.”

She shuffled anxiously on the spot, but his hand was on her ass in a second, pulling her back towards him. “Sir? A... A good girl?”

“Yes, of course. Well, my good girl, to be precise.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she began to find her voice. “I... I will, Sir. I will be good. I'll be a... Good girl.”

He smiled. “Good. That's a good start. But I want you to be my good girl. Are you my good girl?”

She chewed her bottom lip for several seconds before she nodded, silently.

“Oh no no no,” he told her, standing up and immediately making her feel tiny beneath his enormous frame. “I want to hear you say it. Say that you'll be my good little girl, Slut.”

Again she clenched at her new title, a fresh trickle of wetness arcing down her thighs.

“I...” she blinked, steadied her breath and whimpered before continuing, slowly.. “I... I'm your good little girl, Sir.”

“Excellent, Slut. Good girl.”

A pulse in her sex greeted these new titles fondly. She watched, helpless, as he resumed his unbuttoning of her blouse. One last flick laid the fabric aside and two strong hands casually brushed it off her shoulders to puddle on the floor. Veronica's creamy soft skin shivered in the air as his fingers stroked across the ample cups of her bra. The fingertips expertly found her throbbing nipples behind the thick material and the first grazing touch made her knees tremble, a deep moan pouring from her core.

“Ooohhh, you do like that, don't you?”

“Sir, please, I...”

She stopped there, whimpering as one hand deftly flicked the clasp of her bra. Instinctively she grasped it, arms closing around her chest, but the swift, stinging strike spanking across her arse made her yelp and drop it. Her hands desperately fumbled to cover her modesty, but he was too strong. His iron grip clutched at her wrists and forced her arms out wide. Her stiff, perfectly pink nipples were exposed, but her open mouth produced only a mewl of need when two warm soft lips enveloped her aching point and all articulation deserted her.

Whimpering under the onslaught, she desperately tried to bite back her pleasure-driven cries, but she couldn't hide it. The sharp intake of breath and full body shiver that greeted his teeth grazing her puckered flesh only spurred him on. His hands yanked her forwards, lips never leaving her tender flesh, as he pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him, sitting on the prominent bulge of his cock and instinctively grinding against it, despite all her reservations. Teeth clamped down on the swollen flesh of her nipple, a cry poured forth, her eyes clamped shut and she was lost.

She fell to her knees and, with the bleary opening of her eyes, she caught the opening of his zipper and the bulging length that sprung free before her. Her mouth fell open – whether by surprise or by instinct – and it was immediately seized upon. Dextrous digits descended upon her short hair and pinned her in place as she helplessly watched the thick, engorged length approach and swiftly fill her open, waiting mouth.

He was too big. Her throat constricted and her body flinched, pulling back with a desperate gasp for air. Her hands clawed at his hips, for which she was rewarded with a solid smack across her cheek. Expelling a lungful of air in a shocked, pained gasp, she looked up through foggy eyes at his firm countenance.

“You're supposed to be my good little girl, Slut, don't make me punish you again.”

Again she flinched and again she was struck, this time crying out loud.

“Oh no no no,” he told her, stuffing his stiff shaft back inside her gasping lips. “If you can't be quiet, I'll have to gag you, Slut.” Again he gently slapped her and again she whimpered, the sound drowned out by the solid slab of meat stuffed in her mouth. His grip was firm enough that he could push deep into her throat, thrusting his hips, no matter how much she clawed and pushed at him.

Her eyes streamed with tears, lungs fighting for air. Her mumbled, pleading cries did nothing to slow the relentless thrusting of his hips, pushing him deep inside her before she could finally breathe once more.

With harsh and ragged breath, make-up streaking down her pale cheeks, she dribbled uncontrollably down her chin and her heaving chest, her tits glistening in the artificial light.

“Please, Sir...” she choked, swallowing and desperately panting. “Please, no more...”

“No?” he asked with a look of mock disappointment. “Maybe not.”

One heave of his hand pulled her straight to her feet. She leaned against the desk, filling her lungs with precious air, as he circled her predatorily. His hand stroked down her back and slowly over her arse. The single touch caused her to tense up before the stinging crash of a solid hand against her flesh.

She cried out, turning to avoid the second blow, but it wasn't enough. A hand on the back of her neck slammed her into the desk and pressed her bare tits against the cool wooden surface. She thrashed to break free of his merciless grip, to no avail. He kicked open her thighs, hiking the skirt up around her waist and gouging his fingers deep into the pert, firm flesh of her arse.

First, he would squeeze her cheek, then sharply spank it, softly stroking the stinging skin and soothing its burn. Veronica felt her resolve weakening with every stroke as her cunt betrayed her a little more, adding to the growing pool in her panties that he would occasionally test with a tickling touch. She lay still and whimpered with every strike, her body flinching, but her pussy throbbing.

“I'm afraid you know that I have to teach you a lesson, don't you, Slut?”

When she didn't respond, the smack came across her swollen cunt. The shriek she let out was chased by the most plaintive whimper yet.

“Y-yes, Sir. I have been a bad girl.”

He laughed at this, immediately.

“Oh, you do learn quickly, my little slut. Yes. You have been a bad girl. But Sir will make you into a very very good girl, won't he?”

She nodded, but this too earned a short sharp swat across her engorged lips.

“Yes, Sir!” she cried, correcting herself. “I've learned my lesson, Sir.”

Again the room filled with his laugh.

“Oh no, Slut. Not yet. You haven't learned a thing yet.”

Hooking his fingers around the wet, ruined panties, he pulled and managed to tear the sodden fabric from her in a single, violent motion. The cool kiss of the air on her wet, pulsating lips made her almost leap from the desk.

“No, no, Sir! Please, no, don't! I don't... My fiancé...!”

His hand immediately snatched at her hair and yanked her around to face him.

“Yes? Your fiancé what? Should I tell him just what you've been up to, Slut?”

“No, I...!”

“I think he'd be very interested in this, don't you?”

He reached for his phone, lying on the desk next to her. Turning it around, she could see herself – all ruined make up, wild hair and bleary eyed – and the tiny blinking 'record' light in the corner.

“You... You're recording this...?” she choked, the shame flushing her cheeks a deep red. She looked into her own desperate eyes and immediately saw what a whore she looked. Against all her better judgement, she could feel her sex clench and drip a little more.

“Every single second. Just in case I feel like he ever needs to see who you truly are.” His tone carried no remorse, no shame. He was actually smiling at her. “I told you. You're my good girl. You're my little slut, now.”

She stared back at him, unflinchingly, as his fingers teased through her soft, sodden slit.

“You don't want me to show him, do you?” he asked.

She shook her head. A ringing crack echoed through the room and she winced, her arse burning with the impact. “No, Sir.” Her reply came gutturally.

“Good.”

Veronica felt him move behind her as he pressed her back into the desk. She lay still until she felt something thick and insistent brush through the length of her aching pussy from clit to ass, splitting her lips and causing a small cascade of wetness to tickle its way down her skin. It felt so good, but she tried to resist. She struggled and cried out, thrashing against the iron hand holding her immobile.

“Enough of this, you little slut,” he growled, seizing her by the wrists.

She struggled and fought half-heartedly as he locked her in place, the weight of him keeping her pinned to the desk while he bound her arms in something thick and heavy. Her arms were soon powerlessly trapped behind her back, her fingers clenching and unclenching uselessly as the material tightened against her skin.

Again his feet kicked apart her legs and she felt herself collapse against the desk. Tears ran down her cheeks as she felt two big hands crack simultaneously across her glowing, tender ass. The treasonous moan that escaped her only made her feel more ashamed.

“We both know how much you love this, you little whore,” he stated, now leisurely stroking his swollen head through her lips while she futilely squirmed beneath him. “It's best to accept your place and be a good little slut. We'll have so much more fun this way. We both know this is what you want. This is what you need, isn't it?”

The hard, heavy smack of his cock across her clit made her whole body tingle. Her only response was a faint and desperate whimper. She felt him lean closer to whisper in her ear.

“I'll tell you what,” he said, quietly. “Let's give you a real cock and see how that changes your tune.”

The stroke inside her was instantaneous. Her body went rigid as he plunged inside her saturated lips, stretching her out with ease.

He was huge. She cried out instinctively, her shrieks stopped suddenly by a strip of cloth pulled between her lips and tied behind her head. His girthy length never left her as the material tightened down, but she couldn't stop from squirming and writhing on it. It felt immense, stretching, and stuffing her.

The thrusts came slow, but each felt bigger and deeper than the last. She adored the deep, drilling sensation of him splitting her sweet pussy, filling her until she couldn't help but cry and yelp into her make-shift gag. Every inch felt like agony - like the limit - but each was followed by another. Deeper and deeper he drove while she thrashed beneath him. The river of her juices was flowing nicely now, giving him every chance to fill her completely.

Every thrust rubbed her nipples into the wood, sending sparks to her sex. The grip and smack of his big hands just electrified her and sent her nerves into overdrive. Every cracking spank across her ass just made her hips move faster and her pussy clench tight on the invading cock burying inside her.

At last, with what felt like an immense effort, she felt his balls slap against her swollen clit as he buried himself inside her completely. She shrieked and howled into the gag, her hips rolling and gyrating as he held himself so deep and thick inside her that she feared she'd tear.

The next few minutes dissolved into an eternity. She wailed throughout, her body grinding on autopilot against the merciless pounding as he gave her long, full thrusts. Unable to move, resist or even cry out properly, she could only lie there, take it all and enjoy the total pleasure of being utterly fucked.

Through her mewling high, she felt him pull all the way back and tensed herself for a deep, pounding blow inside her. It didn't come. Instead, he slipped back and out, leaving her aching; swollen pussy gaping and desperate for more.

The sudden emptiness was unbearable. She felt so used, so denied, to have been so full and left so frustratingly empty and exposed. Her arse raised and lifted, rolling and searching for him as much as she could. She felt despicably slutty and wanton, but the craving in her cunt was too much. She needed more. She screamed and thrashed, shrieking as she sought the sweet impalement again.

“Ohhh,” he laughed behind her. “Changed your mind have you, Slut?”

She nodded, violently, her hips bucking and lifting her swollen cunt invitingly high.

“You mean you want more of this big, hard cock inside you, Veronica?”

Her muffled cry vaguely sounded like a strangled 'yes.'

This only made him laugh, which in turn made her even wetter. Something about his laugh just gripped at her core and made her drip with need. She felt so humiliated and it made her ache with a need she'd never known.

A light in front of her face surprised her. She blinked rapidly to focus on the camera screen. She barely recognised herself. Her eyes were wild and streaked, her cheeks flushed red and slick with tears. Her teeth were clamped tight around the gag in her mouth and she could just make out the streaks of dribble at the corners of her lips. He was behind her, smiling and confident, as her red, swollen ass cheeks shook in the air searching for cock.

“Say it for the camera, Slut,” he commanded.

The gag fell away and she treated herself to a long, deep breath, gazing deep into the slutty, desperate eyes looking back at her.

“Please, Sir, fuck my little cunt with that big fucking beautiful dick right now, I need it!” she cried – her most articulate and clear sentence for quite some time.

“That's my good little Slut. Yes! Who's my good little slut, Veronica?”

“I am!” she cried. “I'm your little slut. I'm your fucktoy. I'm your whore. Just please fuck me, please give me that fucking monster cock, I need it!”

He must have known she would scream, because his hand clamped tight around her mouth just as soon as he pistoned inside her once more, balls smacking hard into her clit. The howl was deadened slightly by the palm over her mouth, but it soon fell away. His fingers wrapped tight in her hair while the other hand beat a steady rhythm against her ass.

The thrusts grew faster as her moans and cries grew sharper. Together they seemed to stretch higher and higher and she could hear him grunting with the effort. A certain pride took over her and she knew she was going to make him cum. She could think of nothing else. The image of him exploding inside her consumed her mind and she furiously began to fuck hard against the cock pummelling senselessly into her over and over.

“God, I knew you'd make a fucking delicious little whore, Veronica,” he groaned through gritted teeth, another spank reverberating through the room.

“Yesss. I'm a dirty little slut, Sir. I want your cum. I want that beautiful cock to cum inside me,” she hissed, looking back over her shoulder.

He was sweating – now apparently shirtless and glistening with the effort. His teeth were ground tightly together and his breath came in deep, rough gasps. It culminated in a deep, primal growl.

“Fuck! I'm going to cum in that tight little cunt and pump you full, you filthy little slut!”

“Please!” she shrieked, writhing, and desperately trying to reach him with her bound hands. “Give it to me. I need it!”

She looked back, watching him hammering himself heavily inside her with a twisted, pleasurable excitement. She felt empowered, watching how he pushed himself on, seeing how he struggled and groaned with the effort.

“Fuck me!” she urged, feeling her climax closing.

His big hand reached out and slammed her hard against the desk, pinning her in place. The moans tumbled from her lips as she knew he was only seconds away.

“Beg!” he ordered her, chewing the word.

“Please, Sir!” she moaned, almost simperingly, “Give your little slut that hot fucking cum! I need it. Please, Sir. Cum in me. Take me! Fill me!”

His deep, rumbling growl announced his climax. Veronica tensed, waiting, before the first thick pulsing rope of cum pumped deep inside her and threw her crashing over that edge into the whirling, roaring abyss. Whining, howling, crying, and screaming, she thrashed beneath him and felt every jet of cum push her further over the brink, firing every shivering muscle in her body. Begging incoherently and moaning filthy expletives, her hips milked his every thick creamy drop until he finally pushed her off and stepped away, leaving her mewling on the desk.

Panting to himself, he watched her body shiver and tingle through the last pulses of her climax, her arms still fighting the belt restraining her. Convulsions repeatedly wracked her, accompanied by unintelligible whines and cries. Her skin shining with sweat and her pink, swollen pussy starting to ooze the first trickle of cum, he grinned and pressed 'stop' on the recording.