Something was wrong with me.
It would be natural to assume it's something Theo did, but I didn't have any hard evidence of it. It didn't really make sense, either - how would he possibly manage to do something like this? It was the alien. The stress. A psychotic break. A delusion.
I could ask for his help, even.
I didn't.
I didn't want to risk it, because I knew, honestly, that it probably was Theo. That all those arguments and alternate ideas were paper thin, that the far more logical conclusion is that I was under his control, and he's known as much from the moment he invited me over to his house.
I still didn't want to think it's Theo. Not because I thought that highly of him - he was mostly a resume and a set of skills, up until that day - but because that meant he had spent last night and this morning repeatedly raping me. That every time I sucked on his cock and came my brains out... every time he insulted me and sent me into a quivering mess of arousal... every casual smack and grope he gave me that only sent my desire through the roof... that was all rape. That the best sexual experience of my life was at the hands of a rapist scumbag, as he raped and degraded me.
"Nice outfit," he said out loud, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "Lock the door." I locked the door, and he beckoned me towards him, taking out his phone. "Sit on the edge of your desk. Give me a look like a sexy secretary," he told me, as I got into the position. I was seated a little awkwardly, twisting to face him, and I had no real idea what a sexy secretary looked like - so I decided to just pucker up my lips and smile at him, giving him a wink and a wave.
That was good enough for Theo. He grinned as he snapped a few pictures with his phone, standing up, moving around me, taking shots of my face, my tits, my legs, sliding his camera down to catch sight of my panties. I froze in place, feeling like I was on display in a shop - and yet, the almost creepshot element of him kneeling and taking a just-barely shot of my panties sent another throb of arousal from my clit right up to my brain, my lower lips seeming to just gush in response to that simple act.
It's hard to explain quite how I felt. There were two warring thoughts inside me: one part, afraid of what was happening, of the increasing power he was exercising over me, wanting to escape with the same intensity you scream at the idiots in a horror movie as they open the door to the basement; and the other part, wanting to just touch myself, to maul my own tits and finger my needy cunt, my arousal climbing as he just planted one hand on my thigh and forced my legs apart to make me give him a better panty shot.
"Fuck you're hot," he breathed out, standing up again, putting down his phone for a moment, clasping my cheeks with one hand, then dragging me into a ferocious kiss with him. He held my puckered up lips against his mouth, one hand reaching for my breast, giving it a firm squeeze, and I let out an unavoidable mewl into his mouth, my body responding to the cruel treatment with delight instead of pain. He broke off the kiss. "You know what'd be hot?" I panted softly, contemplating the question for a long moment, but he continued before I could actually figure out the answer. "You playing the role of the sexy secretary, for me, your boss."
I stared at him, my mouth slightly open. I was his boss. I was. I was just being mind controlled, or my free will had gotten fucked up some other way, or whatever. I needed to retain what little control I had. "Theo, I'm your boss," I said. It was stupid, honestly, but what else could I say in that situation?
"That's what makes it sexy," he declared with a big grin. He planted his ass down in my chair, reclining in it. It squeaked, the back bouncing back and forth as he found a comfortable position. "Damn, you got yourself a comfy chair," he said. Then he leaned back up, looking at her, suddenly serious. "Now, Ms. Nabel," he said. "I need you to perform your secretarial duties."
My clit throbbed in response to the statement. He said it so casually, but it was so obvious that in his mind, my 'secretarial duties' included sucking his cock. Or maybe I was misinterpreting him, and I was actually the stupidly horny one - that thought also made my pussy pulse, another spike of arousal and a moistening of my panties as I stood there.
Either way, I rose from the corner of the desk. The part of me that was concerned that I was being mind controlled, somehow, forced to obey Theo's every whim... it noted that he hadn't actually given me any orders. He hadn't said please, Darla, get down under your desk and suck off your employee. I just did so, a hot thrill racing up my spine as I made my way around the desk, as I approached him slowly. He slid the chair back an inch, spreading his legs wide. A cocky smile on his lips said he knew what I was about to do.
He was right. I had to get down on my hands and knees to maneuver myself into position. If it hadn't been for my powers, I'd have scraped my knees up on my office carpet, crawling around down there, but I got down there anyway. I knelt under my own desk, neat and prim. My butt balanced on my heels; my knees pushed into the carpet. He had a great view down into my cleavage, his gaze going directly for where my breasts pushed against one another, to the dark line of shadow that the low-cut blue top showed off.
There was something shockingly erotic just about the position itself, my needy cunt absently throbbing as I looked up at him from down there, my hands momentarily on my thighs. Here I was, kneeling under my own desk, the position itself awkward and uncomfortable. There was little air circulation down there, so it instantly felt hotter, the stagnant air seeming to wreathe me in a quiet heat.
He didn't say anything. He didn't complain about the fact that I was just kneeling there. He wanted to watch me make the next action all on my own, I realized - and my clit absently throbbed at that thought.
He wanted me as an active participant in my own humiliation.
Was this even really humiliating? I was only kneeling down here to give a blowjob. I could easily imagine some horny girl giving her boyfriend a nice blowjob during work hours. It wasn't that crazy. Even the roleplay could just be some playful role reversal.
But, no. It was humiliating. I felt it bone deep. He'd been presumptive when I'd entered my office; he'd ordered me around, taken photos of me; he'd declared this was what we were going to do, without even asking. The whole point of everything seemed to expressly be to humiliate me. To take the competent CEO and forced her to kneel in front of her employee and suck his dick.
Maybe it was all just in my head, more of that soupy submissive kinkiness that was making me stew in ideas like that because they got me horny, but the thought felt as solid and real as a brick.
I reached up for his pants at last, and his grin grew broader as my fingers unzipped his fly. There was the faintest tremble to my movements, energy and anxiety embroiled together to make my fingers shake softly as I moved. With the same energy and focus - not even bothering to look up at him again - I unbuckled his belt; undid the top button of his pants; and then, with his assistance, tugged it and his underwear down to around his ankles.
His cock pulsed in the air, lively and eager for me to work it over.
I leaned forward, wrapping my lips around his cockhead, and he let out a low groan as his cock desperately twitched inside my mouth.
He hadn't ordered me into this. He hadn't even said what he wanted - he could just as easily have been asking for a backrub, or at least for a seated ride. I had been the one who had chosen to get down on her knees underneath her own desk, to withdraw his thick throbbing cock from his pants, and then to put it in my mouth.
I guess I could pretend like I was retaking control of my life, that I was taking the initiative so that I was no longer just being forced into this or that by his commands. That, rather than meekly submit, I had chosen to act so that I could at least feel like I was my own person.
The truth is, the thought of my own active participation in this whole thing made my clit throb, my pussy clenching around empty air as it did its best to soak my panties. I had my employee's cock in my mouth, having willingly stuffed myself under my own desk, and I had done it in large part because I'd known it would make me so intensely aroused. My nipples scraped against the inside of my own bra as I finally flicked my eyes up to him, and he just grinned down at me. His hand reached down to casually stroke my hair, looking cocky and confident as he treated me like a loyal pet nuzzling her master's groin
The temperatures down there slowly grew warmer and warmer around me, as I started to gently bob my mouth up and down his cock. I could walk through a nuclear inferno without so much as singing my hair, but I could still feel the heat growing around me, the balmy press of stagnant warm air against my skin. It was vaguely uncomfortable, but I didn't really mind, focused instead on the continuously climbing arousal I was experiencing.
I let myself be carried away by it. The confident hand on my head. The large cock in my mouth. The gentle, repetitive bob of my mouth up and down the first couple inches of his cock. The heat in between my thighs continued to grow and grow, and I let my brain shut off. I didn't have to think. I could just suck. Wasn't that better than growing into an anxious mess about mind control or consent? Wasn't that easier? Smoother?
"Don't forget your tongue, Ms. Nabel," Theo added, and I felt a sudden sharp heat in my cheeks, my eyes flicking open.
Once again, I was humiliating myself in two ways: firstly, by sucking my employee's cock underneath my own desk, while he pretended to be my boss; and secondly, by not even being that good at it.
My tongue got involved in the action, then, starting to flatten and stretch around the underside of his cock. His taste was sharp, the flavor almost overwhelming, but my arousal just continued to climb. I got back into the rhythm of it, bobbing up and down as I licked and tasted him, each pump on my mouth up and down his cock accompanied by a wet slither of my tongue against him. I let myself drift off in the moment, marinating in the arousal of the position, the heat itself seeming like a quiet reminder of the humiliating position I was in.
He casually shifted his hand from petting me to gripping my ponytail, at that point. My eyes flicked open, looking up at him over my glasses, but he just grinned down at me, sadistic and domineering at once. A pulse of arousal hit me at that moment of eye contact, a knowledge that he was going to use my mouth like a jerkoff aid and there wasn't anything I would do to stop him. Not could do - he hadn't ordered me into this position, so even my concerns about mind control didn't matter - but would do. I would let him treat me like crap, just for the pulse of arousal it'd bring to my sopping wet cunt.
Then he started to fuck my face. He dragged me down his whole length with a single powerful push, his cock pressing past my gag reflex. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes again, though I had started to get used to this, my body seeming to increasingly realize that it was fine when there was a fat cock blocking my airways. Maybe the pangs of arousal throbbing between my legs were also serving to make it easier, as I was conditioned to associate being choked on his fat cock with pleasure and desire.
He didn't seem to think about any of that. He wasn't worried about ruining my makeup, about me potentially puking or choking on his cock, or even about the rugburns my knees would probably be receiving from just how rough he was being with my mouth. On the contrary, he just started to fuck my face, pumping my mouth up and down his cock, his length making my throat swell over and over as he tugged me up and down on his dick. At some point in there, he started to lean forward, shifting to look at my computer, fingers clacking to wake up my computer. My eyes peeled back in their sockets, my arousal intensifying as I was used and ignored, something about being treated like a toy like this serving to entice my fucked up brain.
Then sound started to come from my computer. I recognized it almost immediately as the sounds of the very same porno he'd been watching on our first date (just yesterday). He was jerking off with his mouth while watching a porno.
The heat in between my thighs was unbearable at that point, my pussy weeping and pleading for attention. My mouth was being brutally fucked, and I was dimly aware that my tongue was still quivering and wriggling inside my mouth to try to add to his pleasure... but my focus was instead on the feeling in between my legs. I tugged up my skirt, gently sliding it along my thighs. I pushed aside my panties with trembling fingertips, and just gently touched my slick pussy, and that was enough to send me over the edge. Moans escaped my throat, repeatedly cut off by the cock plunging deep into my throat.
The sound and sensation of my moans and vibrating throat seemed to entice Theo into paying attention to me again, leaning back to look down at me. Once more, he had that same contemptuous grin, the look in his eyes telling me that he thought this was a moment of total triumph. I had nothing, he had everything. I was the CEO of the company, but I was also the one who had crawled under the desk so I could be used as a cocksocket by my own employee. My glasses went askew from the force of the facefuck, and then flew off my face, clattering to the ground.
I didn't try to stop them. I just looked up at him through teary eyes as he continued to use my mouth like that - and then he groaned, dragging my head down all the way to throat his cock completely. His groan grew louder as he cast his head back, and I could feel the pulses of his dick as he just unloaded straight down my throat. I couldn't taste him - he was depositing his seed straight down my esophagus, skipping past my tastebuds. My eyelashes fluttered as my own arousal spiked, starting to masturbate as I got choked like that.
When he finished coming, he peeled me up and off his cock, letting me breathe. I'm sure my face was a mess, drool and tears running down it as he leered down at me. His free hand - the one that wasn't holding my head in position by the ponytail - reached down for my top, groping and squeezing my tit through the fabric of my top. I mewled, thighs wobbling softly. "You know what I'm watching right now?" He asked me.
"Yes," I breathed out. I was horny enough I no longer really cared about dignity - I was just wallowing in my current position.
"Yes, what?" He said.
"Yes, sir," I breathed out. He grinned at that, his cock pulsing in front of my face, and I brainlessly opened my mouth, tongue stretching out. I was rolling out the red carpet for him to use my face again, even more, drool sliding slowly down my tongue as I stared up at him through hazy eyes.
"Good girl. That's my sexy secretary. You're so fucking smart, but right now, all those smarts are being put to use pleasuring your new boss." The way he spoke around me was an intoxicating mix of complimentary and humiliating. I saw it how he did: the higher I was by any external metric, the more erotic it was that I was kneeling underneath the desk, acting like an obedient little cocksucker.
"Yes, sir," I repeated. Just agreeing sent another pulse of arousal through my body, my fingertips starting to gingerly tease my slit.
He used my hair to drag me up from down there. I wobbled on my heels as I forced me to my feet, having been kneeling long enough it took a moment for me to regain my balance - or maybe it was just my sopping wet cunt that made it so hard to think. I realized I had started to sweat at some point, my shirt clinging to me awkwardly, and he just smiled as he saw it. "Guess it was hot down there," he said.
"Yes, sir," I repeated once again - and he gave me that same contemptuous grin, sending another pulse of arousal through my body. He bent me over his desk, my skirt having already been hiked up around my waist, my panties having already been pushed aside. My cunt wept as I trembled in that position. My tits got mashed into the desk. My nipples were hard, and now being crushed, my whole body trembling with arousal at the sensation of it.
He was manhandling me, jerking me around like a piece of meat. The thought came to mind that he had no idea that him tugging on my hair to reposition me was totally painless, but he did it anyway. That was how uncaring he was.
Or, perhaps he was caring, and he'd detected just how horny it made me to be treated like my comfort didn't matter. He slid his cock against the entrance to my pussy, making me shudder softly as he teased me like that. Electricity laced up my spine, and I felt my whole body tremble with unmet tension, a physical need to get fucked that was getting excited. I planted my hands on the far rim of the desk and pushed my butt back towards him - and he used his grip on my hair to yank me back into position.
"Wait. Stay still," he ordered, and my whole body stilled in response to his command. Even the tremble of arousal became subdued. "Stretch those legs and feet of yours. Put your ass so high into the air that you're on your tiptoes."
I obeyed. My ass rose, and rose. My toes just barely touched the ground. No normal woman could have maintained that position for any length of time, but I was Andromeda. I could fly and punch through steel. Behind me, Theo teased my slick pussy with his cock, just rubbing back and forth, sending lightning bolts of pleasure up my spine to my brain as I trembled in place. I swallowed. "Please," I breathed out at last. "Please, sir, please fuck me."
"Please fuck who?" He asked me. "I know this pussy of yours is stretched up as high as it can get to make it easier to fuck you, but who exactly am I fucking?"
I mewled. Inside my head, the stew of arousal and need and humiliation just grew more intense, my mouth opening and closing as I remained static in place. My cunt clenched around nothing as I tried to think, the desperation simultaneously making it difficult to think clearly, and easy to focus on the exact task I had been given. "Please, sir, fuck your dutiful secretary who loves your powerful cock."
He yanked on my ponytail and slammed himself balls deep inside me. I immediately came, moaning loudly, and he didn't bother to stop me, just starting to rut at my slick, dripping-wet cunt. My brain felt like it was dribbling out between my thighs as he rammed away. My nipples scraped across the surface of the desk, hidden behind the fabric of my top and my bra both, but still getting intensely stimulated. I was so horny that everything felt good - I'm pretty sure if he'd just been grinding my upper body against the desk, I probably could have come that way, that's how warmed up I was.
He didn't do that, though. Instead, he recklessly, ruthlessly pounded me. I could hear the computer continue to play the porno, but I didn't care - getting fucked felt too damn good to care.
No, that's a lie. Yes, my arousal meant that I was hardly going to complain about a porno being played mere inches away from my face as Theo fucked me. But no, the fact that it was there, still playing, only aroused me further. Again and again, over the course of our tumultuous, not even day-old relationship, Theo had gone back and forth between being ecstatic that he was fucking me, and relishing the chance to ignore me and treat me like a convenient sex toy. In this position, I couldn't even tell if he was watching it - maybe his focus was completely on me, genuinely, watching my ass compress each time he hilted inside me. One of his hands gripped me by the hips, holding me in place, and the other held onto my ponytail, tugging at my upper body by it, twisting my head up while not actually letting me raise my torso thanks to his grip on my hip.
If I'd been a normal girl, it probably would have been the most uncomfortable position to get fucked in imaginable. As it was, though, that fact only added to my arousal. Another casual act of degradation and selfishness on Theo's part. My pussy milked and squeezed around his cock, and I felt myself getting closer to another orgasm. This time, my brain managed to function enough to shift my hands from where they gripped the edge of the desk, instead covering my mouth.
It was helpful - I muffled the moan that came mere seconds later, as another orgasm hit me, fireworks going off inside my skull. Theo hilted inside me, yanking on my hair at the same moment, groaning as my body spasmed beneath him, cunt going crazy around his cock.
He was so rough and forceful and controlling, and my pussy was sopping wet from the treatment, juices oozing down my inner thighs as he just railed away at my cunt. Each thump of his hips against my ass made the desk seem to shake beneath me, and he shifted his grip again, letting go of my hair to instead grope my ass cheek with one hand, the other still on my hip to keep me in place. "Stay like this. Just like this," he grunted, his voice dripping with arousal that suggested he might come very soon.
He started to spank me at that point, sharp and forceful and truly vicious. Each smack seemed to resound in my office, louder than the wet sounds of his repeated penetration of my cunt. They were sharp and harsh, the absolutely most vicious spankings he could give me, but I didn't care at all. After all, they didn't hurt.
No, that's not right. I did care. The viciousness he was striking me with was something so sadistically cruel that it set off more fireworks in my brain. After all, if I'd been a normal girl, this would probably hurt like hell and leave me struggling to sit down for days. I got all the arousal that apparently came with being mistreated by somebody who seemed utterly uncaring about my well-being, combined with the knowledge that my butt was in fact safe from his smacks.
After banging on my butt cheeks like a pair of bongo drums for a full minute, he leaned down over me, his breath hot in my ear, his hands sliding up under my shirt, pushing it up and up until my bra was exposed. He continued to rut away the whole time, the desk shaking and squeaking beneath me, my hands still tight over my mouth, holding back the mewls and moans and other varied sounds of pleasure as I got fucked like that. Orgasms came almost without warning, I was that horny.
"God, you were made for sex," he breathed out in my ear as he slipped his fingers under my bra to squeeze my tits.
I just mewled. My hard-won PhD, my scientific and engineering accomplishments, my successful company - to him, that was irrelevant compared to my boobs. I'd spent my whole life trying to downplay my natural bounty in order to be taken seriously as a scientist and engineer and businesswoman, and he was treating them like the most important thing about me. An intrusive thought came to mind, despite all that.
Wouldn't it be so humiliating to agree with him?
Wouldn't it send intense pulses of pleasure down into my cunt, to agree that my brains and education and business acumen and everything else were nothing compared to my tits? To pull my hands away from my mouth, not to argue with him, but to agree?
I was sorely tempted, and my hands started to slide away from my mouth, but I didn't get the chance to. He groaned as he suddenly bottomed out inside me and simply erupted. The feeling of him coming inside me, spunk flooding my needy pussy, was enough to make me come yet again, eyes peeling back as my hands once more tried to cover my mouth to disguise the noises of pleasure.
Once he was finished coming, he pulled out of me, slumping back into my chair, which squeaked as he just landed his whole weight on it. I let my posture adjust slowly, still so aroused and worked up that I was worried just wiggling on the desk might make me come.
After a minute or so, he casually smacked my ass. "Fuck, you're one hot piece of ass, Darla," he said, and I just moaned.
I wasn't getting fucked. My brain had the time to reconstitute itself. I could have gotten up and fled my office at that point, if I wanted to.
Maybe this was what I wanted? Maybe there was no mind control, but deep down, Dr. Darla Nabel, genius physicist, in fact wanted to get her brains fucked out by her crudest employee?
No. There was definitely something wrong with me. Maybe it wasn't Theo, but something...
"Clean off my cock, Darla," he ordered. "Use those pretty lips of yours. Then I'll get out of your hair and let you get some work done."
I slid off the desk at that point, instantly kneeling in front of him again. The stagnant heat of the air down there was even more intense, now that my skin was flush with arousal from all my recent orgasms. Despite all that, I just leaned forward towards his cock.
It was half-erect at that point; it stayed as much, even once I leaned forward to start licking my juices off his length, the sharp tangy taste clinging to my tongue.
I guessed that even he could eventually reach some physiological limit, at which point his dick would request a break.
Part of me wished he hadn't. It wasn't just that fucking him felt so goddamn good. It was also that when he was fucking me, I didn't have to worry about mind control. I was just a submissive masochist for him, getting off on his humiliation and cruelty, and thinking wasn't part of my job. I could just let my brain shut off and enjoy myself.
Whereas, right now, doing something as mild as licking a half-erect dick clean, my brain could spend its time thinking about how stupid and easily manipulated I was.
Once I was finished, he shifted on the chair, starting to pull up his underwear and get dressed. "I remember reading-" he said, as he tucked away his dick, the thing vanishing from my sight as I remained kneeling down there, "-you live in some kind of penthouse thing, right?"
"It means that trips to the office are shorter," I explained. "It's actually smaller than your place." Though, it was nicer - the furniture came with the room, and was thus tasteful and high class and very comfy.
"Yeah, yeah," he grunted as he stood up, buttoning up his pants before buckling his belt. "You came over to my place, I should visit yours. I bet it's nice. Plus, I can see what your wardrobe looks like. You look way better in those clothes than your normal fair," he noted. One hand casually reached down for my breast, slipping through the dipping cleavage of my top to just casually grope it. My pussy clenched. "Give me your address," he ordered.
I rattled it off before I could think better - and then he made me repeat it as he put it into his phone.
"Anything I need to get in?" He asked. I hesitated a moment. "Just answer me," he ordered, sounding annoyed at my reticence.
"You need a code to use the elevators on the ground floor," I explained. "I'm also supposed to tell them that I'll be having a guest over."
He wrung the code out of me, ordered me to tell the staff that I would be having a guest over - he even made me tell them he was my boyfriend - and left me alone in my office.
My top was drenched in sweat by that point, from kneeling in the hot space beneath my desk, and coming my brains out. I tried to straighten myself out, finding my glasses where they'd clattered on the floor and putting them on. For a moment, I considered getting to work, just to try to put everything that had just happened - everything that was happening - out of my head.
I shook my head. It might feel convenient and easy, but it wouldn't actually solve anything.
It pretty much had to be mind control, or something like it. As I ran things over in my head, not every single detail stuck out, but enough did that I was reasonably sure that Theo knew what was going on with me. He'd ordered me to come over for a date, rather than asking; and when I'd hesitated to hand over the code to my suite, he'd ordered me to give it.
In a court of law, sure, maybe his lawyer would say he had no idea what was going on, and he'd just noticed I was a submissive little masochist who got off on being degraded and loved to be ordered around.
This wasn't a court of law, though. This was my life.
I was going to take back control of it.
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