There's something really sexy about being tied up, blindfolded and made to do things, even if it's just lying there while men do things to you. I was a normal late teenager girl until, with a group of my girlfriends one night, we watched 'The Story of O' you know the one with that Bond girl playing the lead. I couldn't believe how wet it made me just watching it. The other girls all laughed and, of course, I joined in but I couldn't take my eyes off the tv screen. A few days later I found my own copy in the local video shop and I went bright red when the sales guy scanned it in; I could now watch it all on my own.

I've had a few boyfriends and I'm not a virgin but it all seemed so sordid somehow, back seats of their cars or in some dark alley. No, what I wanted was a guy like 'Sir Stephen' to take control of my life and my body. At first, I didn't like the idea of being beaten or whipped but I understand why for it makes you obedient. My orgasms generated while watching the orgy scenes would be mind blowing. I would be naked and my fingers working between my legs as I imagined being used solely as a sex object.

I suppose I was ripe for the plucking, so to speak, so when Gerald came into my life I fell like a ripe plum into his lap. This was my second year in the office and one Monday morning Gerald became my new manager. He was old, say forty, and I'm sure he had a family tucked away at home but I didn't care. When I say I fell into his lap I did quite literary, for one night, I was working late when I tripped over a trailing lead and fell head first into his lap.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I got to my feet.

"That's all right, June," he said, helping me up. "I quite enjoyed it, actually.

He had a twinkle in his eyes and his hand stayed on the bare flesh of my upper arm longer than he needed to. After that he would often stop and chat to me, and then, one day, he asked me to stay late and help him out with the end of the month figures. It wasn't that he was handsome or anything but he had something, an aura about him.

He didn't ask my permission, he just stripped me naked and pushed his big fat cock into me. I was half lying across his desk while he pumped into my responding body.

"Fucking sexy slut," he whispered in my ear

"No, please," I begged, but not too much as his cock felt wonderful inside me.

"You're my slut now," he said, as he pounded into me.

He had finished now and was zipping himself up. I sat up and looked about for my clothes.

"Stay put," he snapped, as I started to get off his desk.

"Please, my clothes," I said, pointing at the pile on the floor.

"A pretty slut like you should always be naked," he said.

His words sent a thrill though my body but I still felt naked and vulnerable just sitting there. He had finished dressing then he approached me again. He pulled my knees apart and moved between them.

"Such a pretty slut," he sighed, his hands moving over my hot skin.

When his fingers reached my pussy, I was on fire again.

"Good, a slut should always be wet and ready for any man to fuck her," he laughed.

"Please," I groaned as his fingers worked inside me.

"Need a hard cock now, do we?" he laughed.

"Please," I begged again.

"Don't worry, my little slut," he laughed, "I'll get you all the cock you can take."

My body bucked under his touch and I came again, harder if that was possible.

It wasn't long before I regularly stayed behind after hours to get myself fucked across his desk or on his carpeted floor.

"So, you want some more of my cock, my slut," he said as he looked up and saw me standing in his doorway.

"Please," I begged, looking down at my feet.

"Come in and lock the door," he laughed. "Now take all your clothes off."

It felt strange, and very naughty to be naked at work, especially when the cleaners were doing their rounds.

"Lie down and spread 'em for me," he said crudely.

I felt that familiar tingle surge through my body as I spread my legs for him.

"My, what a pretty sight," he said. "Why don't you touch yourself for me?"

"What!" I said, staring up at his smiling face.

"Touch yourself and makes yourself come for me," he said.

I didn't want to make myself come, I wanted him to do it. It looked like I didn't have a choice so I cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples. The pain, as always, surged through my body making my pussy even wetter. I could hear myself moan.

"That's right, my slut," he encouraged.

I moved my right hand to my sopping pussy and my hips jerked as I found the right spot.

"Please fuck me," I begged.

"Soon, my slut," he said.

I could feel my orgasm coming now as my fingers rubbed harder between my legs. Then it was there and I bucked uncontrollably on his piled carpet.

"Very good, my slut," he laughed. "One day I must video you doing that."

"Please," I said, holding out my hand to him. "Fuck me now."

His hard cock slid into me with ease and my hips pushed against him.

"I'm going to introduce you to some of my friends," he whispered in my ear. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, yes," I shouted, for I would do anything he wanted.

The strap stung like hell as Gerald whipped my naked back.

"Ahh," I screamed.

"Like that, do we?" he laughed and he whipped me again.