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CHAPTER 18
GRACE’S VERY HARD LESSONS
by Dark Avenger. Copyright 2006. Email comments to darkavenger at tokyo.com.
The story so far:
Grace, an office executive in her mid-twenties, is discovered by her colleague Royston to have embezzled funds
from the company. In “Grace’s Hard Lessons”, Royston uses this blackmail her, offering her a way out by
modeling for a photography shoot for fashion designer Mr Nakamori.
The story continues in Grace’s Hard Lessons II (“Grace’s Very Hard Lessons”) with a flashback of the previous
two weeks where we see how Royston has methodically started Grace on a psychological transformation of
seeing her body as simply a piece of property belonging to her Owner, Mr Nakamori. To condition her mind to
become accustomed to displaying her body, Royston makes Grace wear increasingly provocative clothes to the
office. To get her used to the idea that her body is but an object for others’ pleasure, he plots for Grace’s violation
at the hands of his boss. Grace is made to solicit for oral sex from strangers, photographed in more and more
extreme bondage, and sexually used by her Owner’s photographer.
Royston eventually breaks Grace’s resistance to becoming the office slut, when she willingly submits to asking for
permission to cum. To reinforce her new identity, Royston advances Grace’s training into public humiliation –
making her first exhibit herself in a public place, then willingly submit to a molester, culminating in her forced
orgasm on a crowded bus.
CHAPTER 18 (MF,bondage,toys,humiliation)
========================================
I tried my best to feed her appetite
Keep her coming every night
So hard to keep her satisfied
Kept playing love like it was just a game
Grace shifted uncomfortably on her feet, as more people entered the elevator on the way down. As instructed by
Royston, she had cherry lipstick, dark eye shadow and mascara applied just minutes ago. But that was not the
reason she felt uncomfortable, certainly not the tight fitting executive blouse and skirt she had on, nor the very
tall heels which forced her to walk with a deliberate strut.
This morning when she came to work and reported to Royston’s office, he had locked the door and made her take
off her blouse. Then off came her balconette bra. With a length of hemp rope which he produced from his desk, he
had proceeded to loop it around her bosom four times, twice above her boobs and twice below. This he told her,
were instructions from her owner Nakamori, who wanted her to get used to the feeling of being bound. While
Grace have been bound numerous times in her photography shoot at Nakamori’s associate’s studio, it was only
for the duration of the shoot. Now she would be trained to accept bondage for longer hours. This would start
with her breasts, in the office. As she moved about the company that whole day, she would do so with her breasts
bounded tightly by the rope, under her blouse.
The fact that she was wearing a white blouse was bad luck for her then, but good luck for anyone with a keen eye
if Grace happened to stand near the window in the office with the bright sun outside. The darker color of the rope
could be discernible under the material of the blouse if one stared hard enough.
Her bare nipples rubbing on the front of her tight fitting blouse also made her nervous. If Royston had her take
minutes for any meetings today held in the conference room, there was a good chance the cold air conditioning in
the conference room would make her nipples erect.
Still, this was not the reason why she felt uncomfortable in the elevator on the way down to the ground floor of
the building. Earlier Royston had asked her to bring him coffee. As usual, while there was an elevator available,
she had to walk down the staircase near Royston’s office to the pantry. This staircase overlooked the main foyer
of the office and served busy executives and secretaries who did not want to wait for the main building elevator
and who would rather walk to save time going between the upper and lower floor. In Grace’s case, she would
rather not take the staircase for two reasons. Firstly, due to the rising hemlines of the skirts she wore to the office,
it was hard not to attract attention from male colleagues who lingered at the bottom of the staircase, hoping to
catch a glimpse of her panties. Secondly, the six inch heels made normal walking already a balancing act, let alone
carrying coffee cups or document folders up the staircase. Her face turned red at the recent memory when she
tripped and had to be helped up by a few male colleagues while stifling her near vibrator-induced orgasm.
The feeling of the rope binding her breasts, underneath her blouse as she carried the coffee from the pantry up the
staircase to Royston’s office felt strange indeed. She felt strangely subservient, and simultaneously an unsettling
sense of euphoria mixed with fear. Euphoria that nobody else besides herself and Royston knew that underneath
her blouse she was not wearing a bra, and that her breasts were not just naked but bound by rope under those
office clothes. That she had no control over her body, and how her breasts were protruding lewdly between those
ropes. Fear that Royston would cause her to accidentally or intentionally display her secret. Imagining the
shocked look on any of her co-worker’s face if she opened her blouse wide made her heart thump. They would
know at that instant that Grace was a shameless bondage slut.
Unfortunately for her, Royston was not happy with the cup of coffee that she brought up to him from the pantry.
The coffee was not hot, he complained. She would be sent across the street to the sandwich shop to buy a fresh
cup of brewed coffee for him. To make sure she understood it was punishment, she would not be making the trip
unencumbered.
Royston however, liked to fuck around with her mind, so he told her that she could choose to either wear panties
or not, when she was out to buy coffee. He told her he preferred that he kept her panties with him, so she
wouldn’t dally out there too long, but that if she chose to keep her panties, they would come at a price. Looking at
the white skirt which covered only mid-way to her thigh, he knew that Grace would choose panties given that
she was already feeling insecure going out to the street braless with her breasts bound. What was the price? She
would have to bring another two items with her to buy the coffee.
Remembering how she was tricked to take the bus with panties worn only on her wrist two days ago, Grace said
she would choose to wear panties, only if she was allowed to wear it the normal way. After all she reasoned what
could be so bad about bringing two more items with her to the sandwich shop. Something embarrassing to
humiliate her again? Vibrator? Nobody would see the items she would be carrying, he reassured her, and it’s not
a vibrator. And so, she chose to wear panties.
After applying her lipstick, dark eye-shadow and mascara (in a bid to make her look as sluttish as possible),
Grace returned to Royston’s office and was told to put her hands on his table. He walked around the table to
stand behind her, and lifted her skirt up to her waist in an unhurried fashion.
Grace could not see what he was holding. With a forceful tug that made Grace gasp in alarm, he pulled down her
red thong panties all the way down her thighs, almost reaching her knees. Grace wondered if Royston was finally
going to fuck her. Was she going to be fucked in a standing position from behind by him, just like how her boss
Mr Shih raped her? The thumping of her heart was in her ears. She gripped the edge of the table so tightly that
the whites of her knuckles showed.
Instead, Royston held out an object in front of her face - a smooth ivory-colored object with a flange at the end.
Grace did not immediately recognize it for what it was, but she was about to find out how it would be used on
her.
As her trainer, Royston had taken great pleasure in picking what would be Grace’s first butt plug from
Nakamori’s extensive collection. There was one that looked like a chewy pacifier, and another that bore a strong
resemblance to a toy for dogs called the Kong. There was a diamond-shaped plug, a copper-colored plug with
bumps and ripples, and a tacky pink silicone plug molded into the likeness of the baby Jesus (someone’s lame
idea for a joke apparently about feeling the Lord inside you). There was a plug that was inflatable much like a
blow-up doll, a stainless steel plug that would feel like a barbell in the girl’s behind, several hand-carved wooden
plugs, and even a clear acrylic plug that acted as a magnifying glass once it was inserted
Nakamori wanted to prepare his bitch slut physically, to dilate her anus for an assortment of acts of sodomy to
which she would be subjected. But more importantly, he clearly intended to make her aware of her status, as
someone who would be used for others’ pleasure regardless of her own responses. The plugs were meant to open
her in the fullest sense, to get her receptive to the idea that she would be taken at will by the men who own her.
After some deliberation, Royston had picked out an ivory plug for Grace – it looked simple, but was special in its
way.
First, Royston had her coat it with her saliva. Still standing behind her, he held the butt plug in front of her face,
and instructed her to lick. He simply moved it up and down and rotated it, letting her tongue do the necessary
lubrication. When he was satisfied she had licked every inch of its surface, he took it away from her mouth, out of
her view.
“Hold your skirt up, and spread your legs,” he said, leaning in close enough to Grace to smell her hair. Grace
moved her feet as far apart as she could, the thong panties now taut between her knees. “Very good, slut, ” he
said with a smile, “now place your upper body on the table, transfer your weight as much as possible onto it,
with your feet still on the floor. Keep your hands holding your skirt up.”
Clutching the edge of the table for balance while holding the end of her skirt up against her hips, Grace pushed
her ribcage flat on the table and inched her feet forward. Standing on her toes due to her high heels, the muscles
at the backs of her legs were stretched tight. Royston looked admiringly at how well her ass cheeks were
presented. He looked closely at her anus and cunt lips, both displayed brazenly for his examination. But he
wanted to milk her humiliating position for what its worth. He added, “Grace, now that’s a nice of view of you
that isn’t that commonly seen in the office. Hahaha.. now I want you to reach behind you with both your hands,
and show me your anus.”
Grace shut her eyes tightly, imagining how she looked already. She had to let go of the end of the table, hence
pressing her upper body even flatter into the surface of the table. She stretched her hands back toward her
asscheeks, her lacquered fingernails juxtaposing nicely on both sides of her little puckered asshole. She held her
breath as she obediently spread herself apart, her face now flaming at what she felt was an extremely
embarrassing position, all the more so because she was not tied up or being forced, but simply doing it on request,
like the slut that she was. She stood there, bent over and holding herself open, waiting for his next move. What
was he doing? She could feel a light breeze from the office air-conditioning system brushing coolly across her
genitals. She shivered slightly.
She then felt Royston’s left hand just above both of hers, his thumb and forefinger holding her still while adding
just a bit more stretch to her little anus. He then touched her with the tip of the butt plug, and she jumped at the
contact, her mind racing as she tried to imagine what this was going to feel like. Obviously, he was going to put
that thing inside of her. And it wasn’t an ordinary dildo for her cunt – he was going to put it in her ass! Surely it
would hurt? Would he just insert it halfway? It looked.. much too long ! Would it ream her ass?
Gradually, Royston began inserting the plug up her anal passage. As the first inch of the rounded tip entered her,
she gasped and let out a little “aah…uunh” sound, but she did not dare to make more than a peep for fear of
being heard by other people walking along the corridor outside Royston’s office.
The plug kept sliding in, eased by her own saliva that still coated the ivory shaft. As it went in, the part of the
plug inside her got larger and larger, and Grace felt the incredible feeling of fullness get fuller. Surely this had to
stop soon, she told herself silently, as she bit her lip and endured the discomforting sensation of her little hole
being increasingly stretched as the plug went further and further in.
Royston noticed Grace was holding her breath. She had turned her head to one side on the tabletop, and Royston
watched her face, enjoying seeing her lips pursed over clenched teeth, her mascara-blackened eyelashes squeezed
shut, and her eyebrows and forehead in a tight frown. Grace had no way of knowing when the stretching would
stop; she could only stand there on tiptoes, bent over, ass in the air and held wide open with her own fingertips,
feeling the thick ivory shaft going unbelievably deeper into her backside.
When it was about two-thirds of the way in, he stopped the anal invasion, letting her think it was in all the way.
Her facial tension eased, and she slowly opened her eyes. Royston didn’t move. She twisted her head slightly to
look back at him, silently pleading for the penetration to be over. He smiled at her, still not moving. Her whole
body began to relax, although she kept herself spread with her hands, not daring to move without permission.
Then, without warning, he pushed the plug further in, giving it a little twist. Her eyes flew open wide,
accompanied by an involuntary whimper of surprise as he neared the widest part of the plug. Her eyes quickly
shut tight again as she realized there was still more to come. A single tear formed in the corner of her eye, and
trickled down her cheek. Incredibly, her anus was able to stretch open more.
Finally, the butt plug passed its widest point, curving like the top of a fat carrot into a tiny stalk at the end. As this
part of the plug passed into her, Grace whimpered in surprise as her rubbery sphincter muscle tightly snugged in
around the neck of the plug, clutching the intruding device - almost lovingly, it seemed - sealing her ass.
Grace’s breath now came now in quick little pants as she began to apprehend the feeling of fullness from her anus
all the way up inside her bowels, how helpless she felt.
Royston reflected that Grace being penetrated by a plug would give her the physical feeling of being opened up,
but rather than a sense that her anus is filled or blocked, the psychological effect on her was to awake her
awareness of how available she is, both physically and emotionally. The plug would help bring her to a state of
mind where the last vestiges of resistance, all thoughts of closing herself, of keeping anything in, have been
extinguished. He released her and let her stand up, whereupon her skirt slipped down and covered her ass.
Beneath her skirt, Grace realized that she would constantly feel the flange at the bottom of the plug, whether or
not she was wearing panties. She could immediately feel that the butt plug would always keep her ass-cheeks
slightly spread, and would rub against them as she walked, making it impossible for her to keep her mind off the
anal violation. She would also continually be aware of the self-betrayal of her anal sphincter holding the butt plug
in place.
“Can I pull up my panties yet Sir?” she asked.
“Don’t be so impatient, my love,” Royston said, with an annoying wink. He turned to a shelf behind him.
“Your butt plug is the first object you have to carry to buy the coffee,” Royston told her.
“Here’s the second object,” he continued. Opening a velvet case, he took out three small silver balls, each about
three quarters of an inch in diameter, connected by a string.
“Do you know what these are?” he asked Grace.
“No Sir!” she confessed, eyes wide.
“You will today,” he said, “very intimately so.”
They were called benwa balls, with roots in the orient, probably Japan. The Chinese knew them as jade eggs,
while others called them Burmese bells, but whatever form they come in, the idea was to insert them into the
vagina for subtle stimulation throughout the day, although they were sometimes used during intercourse as well.
A woman’s vagina was forced to flex in order to hold the weighted balls inside her, and this created a pleasurable
feeling as they rolled about inside the wearer as she continued her daily activities. As a bonus, with the constant
flexing of the vaginal muscles, this increased blood flow to that area, causing most women to be aroused
constantly while wearing the balls. In modern times, benwa balls are also used by women post-pregnancy who
needed to strengthen their pelvic floor muscles.
As a variation of benwa balls, duotone balls consisted of a smaller metal ball that jiggled independently inside a
larger ball made of plastic or silicone, a feeling that could not go un-noticed. Duotone balls also typically were
connected by a string for easy retrieval. Nakamori knew someone who made a hybrid, combining the gold-plated
or silver surface more typical of benwa balls, with the independent rotating core of duotone balls. It was this
hybrid version of the duotone balls which Royston had for Grace. In fact, the string was specially made for use on
Grace, but she didn’t know it. As requested by Royston, the string would dissolve approximately after an hour of
insertion, depending on the amount of juices that the recipient of the balls would generate.
Grace had no choice but to stand there as Royston slowly inserted one duotone ball at a time, into her pussy.
“Focus and squeeze your muscles to hold them in,” he told her. Royston knew that as Grace was a beginner at
this, the balls will not stay in for very long, since her muscles were yet untrained. With some strengthening,
eventually Grace’s muscles would involuntarily respond whenever the balls were inserted in her, and begin
pulsating.
When that happened, Royston would increase the size and weight of the balls, or have Grace hang one ball on the
outside while two stayed on the inside. Perhaps he would even introduce weighted balls with chimes in them, or
balls which were not smooth but had a noduled surface for greater stimulation. With stronger pelvic floor
muscles, Grace would be able to squeeze the cocks of her clients fucking her, to give them a more intense orgasm.
She herself would achieve stronger orgasms, since the pelvic floor muscles contract involuntarily during orgasm.
--
Grace stood in the elevator, as more people entered the elevator from various floors on the way down. She grew
more uncomfortable as men and women stood around her. She could feel the rope binding her breasts tightly,
nipples rubbing against the front of her blouse, the butt plug in her ass and the benwa balls in her cunt.
When the elevator reached the ground floor and she started walking out to the street, Grace realized it was much
worse than she had it in the office. With the butt plug in her, she was forced to plant her feet slightly apart on the
ground at each step. Either folks thought she walked funny or assumed she was a slut who spread her legs so
often that was how she walked.
To make it worse, the feeling of the balls floating freely in the vagina and constantly massaging the vaginal walls
caused intense sexual arousal.
Walking on high heels, with her legs slightly spread, she also imagined she could feel the balls sinking lower to
her vulva. This gave her an irrational fear that they would drop out, even though she was wearing panties. As a
result, Grace tried as much as possible to constantly flex her vaginal muscles to hold the balls, which only served
to build up her sexual arousal.
As she walked along the sidewalk to the sandwich shop, she was aware of people watching her. “They don’t
know..!” she told herself, trying to calm herself down, “they don’t know..” she muttered. There was no way they
would know that her ass and pussy were filled, nor that her tits were really tied up under that blouse. Nobody
knew her panties were already starting to get soaked. No way they knew that with each step, her nipples, anus
and cunt were getting stimulated, getting aroused.
Grace half imagined that she would stumble into someone who might have seen her disgraceful behavior on the
bus the other day. She knew that she would just die of shame if someone pointed at her and said, “Look, that’s
the slut who orgasmed on the bus!” There was no way she could refute the accusation – for who else but a slut
would actually be fingered to orgasm by a molesting stranger on a crowded public bus? The fact that her public
orgasm was witnessed by several people, haunted her dreams.
She entered the sandwich shop. There were two men and a lady in the line before her. She joined the line to order
her coffee – no, Royston’s coffee.
With the bound breasts, butt plug and benwa walls stimulating her body, it felt like a haze was shrouding her
mind. The sensations (as much as she tried to ignore them, she could not succeed) clouded her judgment,
displacing logic with desire. She shuffled her weight from her left leg to her right, and back to her left again,
waiting for her turn to order coffee. She fidgeted repeatedly, straightening her back to ease the tension in her
damp loins, only to feel the tension increase instead in the constrictive rope encircling her tits. Meanwhile her
anal passage felt fuller than ever.
Finally she got her coffee. No milk, one sugar. She noticed someone at a table in the shop smiling at her. It was
George, the nerdy guy from accounting. Grace acknowledged him with a slight nod, but otherwise chose not to
make much eye contact.
There was a monologue in Grace’s head. She sucked George’s cock just earlier that week. He didn’t force her or
blackmail her. She seduced him. She knew he had the hots for her. She made George cum into her mouth so she
could ask Royston for permission to cum. George must know she was a slut. He must know that Royston was
whoring her out, making her his slut. George knew her secret, why she was under Royston’s control. Royston
told her that George found out while reconciling some accounts, but she was half convinced that Royston simply
revealed it to George to ensure her further humiliation. Nevertheless, she hoped George would not reveal it to
more people, or she would have to end up sucking more cocks. She hoped George would not share her.
Grace realized with a start and a blush that her eyes were on George’s crotch as he sipped his coffee, talking to
Jim, another guy from the accounting department sitting opposite him. She was unconsciously looking forward to
her next orgasm, her next feed of man-cum. “You fucking slut,” she chided herself mentally. She couldn’t believe
she was thinking about her own cum for the day. While the thought crossed her mind for only a split second, she
was disgusted by herself – she had actually considered whether she could get George’s semen load again to earn
her permission !
Grace quickly left the sandwich shop, feeling the banal taste of shame in her gut meld into the delicious
sensations emanating from her juicing crotch and stiffened nipples.
**
Back in her cubicle, Grace started to work on the presentation that Royston had asked her to prepare. She knew
that in less than two hours time, she would be having a meeting with Royston and Mr Michelson, in Royston’s
office. Mr Michelson was a managing director from their London office, a very nice and approachable man, not
like the ever serious Mr Shih, nor the eccentric Mr Ko. Many folks called him simply Mr M. A few folks called
him by his first name, John. Mr Michelson used to visit their office quite often, back in those days before when
Grace was still relatively new to the company. The last time she saw him was almost two years ago.
The most remarkable thing about Mr Michelson’s appearance though was his size. He was a huge man, towering
above all the ladies and most of the men in the office. He was not fat though, just had a large build with a chest as
huge as a barrel, massively thick arms and legs. Wearing a full business suit, he would cut an extremely imposing
figure. If he stood next to Grace, he looked like a giant. Lifting her bodyweight with one arm would be a breeze;
in fact he could easily hold both her wrists together with one hand.
It wasn’t easy for Grace to concentrate on the presentation material. The presence of the butt plug tightened her
vagina, which were already full with the weighted duotone balls. Every movement she made, she could feel the
duotone balls clicking together and that damn plug in her ass. Then it got worse. The butt plug began vibrating!
That son of a bitch Royston, she cursed. She should have known, all his toys seemed to be remote control enabled.
If all the vibrator training she has received in her pussy was bad, this was worse. The sensations in her rectum
were driving her insane, especially in the sitting down position with the flange of the plug wedged against the
chair and her ass-cheeks. She desperately tried to force herself to relax so that her sphincter was not clamping
down on the intruder in her anus. Occasionally though, Royston would play with the multi-speed setting
remotely and ramp it up, causing her to involuntarily squeeze her muscles. When she did, the sensations were so
intense that her knees would press together, her eyes will roll-up and her mouth would drop open while she
could only manage an unintelligible gurgle. The gentle but still audible noise of the buzzing Backdoor Probe also
meant that she would try to hide the noise by covering her tummy with her cushion each time somebody was
walking past her cubicle.
And of course, trying to muffle the buzzing sound by pressing the cushion against her tummy was a mistake – it
not only made the anal vibrations more intense, but she could also feel the thrilling vibrations transferring to her
lubricating vagina. The repeated cycles of forced relaxation and involuntary squeezing made Grace aroused as
hell. With each squeeze she could feel the duotone balls resisting her vaginal walls, moving while the inner core
of the balls tingled, creating delicious sensations. Her panties were soaking wet. The path to a thrilling orgasm
was tempting, but she knew the consequences if she did not seek permission – she did not want another
punishment like her public orgasm on the bus.
Yet it was impossible for her to work on the presentation to Mr M, perhaps Royston’s way of destroying her
career and reputation completely at the company.
After the vibrator butt plug continued for five minutes pushing Grace to the verge of a climax, it suddenly
stopped. Grace was perspiring in her seat, fists clenched. She could not fight it again. It was useless to resist.
Grace picked up the phone, and dialed Royston’s extension.
“Royston speaking,” said the voice at the end of the phone.
“Sir?” said Grace with a tone of resignation. No matter how many times she called him Sir, she still could not get
used to it. “This is Grace.”
“I know it’s you, Grace”, said Royston. She could almost see him grinning on the other side of the line. “What can
I do you for?” he said.
Grace purposely ignored the crude joke he had just made, and said with hushed tones, “Sir, I am trying to work
on the materials for our meeting with Mr M. Can I.. um… remove the plug please?”
“Can you remove what?” said Royston, feigning deafness. Grace did not know that Royston had set the vibrating
butt plug’s vibration on random mode – it would turn on and off approximately six times an hour, and even he
did not know precisely when.
“The plug.. the butt plug” replied Grace in a slightly louder tone. She felt embarrassed hearing her own voice
saying this. She did not want to shout since there were people about.
“Well… “ said Royston, who appeared to be considering. “Are your panties wet?”
“Yes…” said Grace.
“Soaking wet?” said Royston.
“Yes Sir…” said Grace.
“Soaking wet such that your juices are wetting the cushion on your chair?” said Royston.
“Um… almost Sir..” replied Grace in a small voice.
“Good. Come to my office now. Show me how wet your panties are, and I may allow you to remove the butt plug.
But if the butt plug goes, so do the panties. The benwa balls stay inside, you understand?”
“Yes Sir,” replied Grace.
“Hang on, before you come over, unbutton the top two buttons of your blouse.”
There was a pause, and then she said, “Yes Sir.” She put down the phone.
Two minutes later, she was standing in Royston’s office, in front of his table, while he was seated on his leather
chair behind the table. The top two buttons of her tight fitting blouse were undone, putting the strain on the third
button.
Royston was looking for something in his bookshelf when she came in. His back turned to Grace, he was
humming a tune. Grace recognized it as the hit song by the band Maroon 5. As he turned toward Grace, he was
mouthing the lyrics, “I tried my best to feed her appetite…. Keep her coming every night… “
Then he pretended to suddenly notice Grace standing in front of his table. “Oh, my dear Grace,” he said in a
patronizing tone, looking at her from head to toe. “My dear fuck muffin. How’s your ass feeling?”
“Very full Sir,” she replied, eyes looking down. She looked up to meet his gaze, with pleading puppy-like eyes,
saying, “Please Sir, it’s impossible to work when it goes off,”
“Like NOW?” he said, his hand pressing the button on the remote in his pants.
The butt plug fired into a vibrating frenzy, immediately provoking a reaction in Grace’s stance. Her shoulders
rolled forward while her upper body slouched, and her head drooped. Subconsciously she was bending one knee
first then the other next, her toes pointing inwards as if she needed to pee urgently.
“YYYeess… Sir… like now…” she said through gritted teeth, suppressing an involuntary exhalation.
Royston laughed, and replied, “Wonderful. And how do you like the duotone balls inside your pussy, slut?”
Grace struggled to answer, her eyes half closed. She realized that she was holding her breath from the effort of
trying to stay sane. “Th- the balls are – are v-very uncomfortable, to be f-frank, Sir,” she said.
“Uncomfortable but you are SOAKING WET, aren’t you, slut? Dressed like a floozie, buying coffee, walking
about in public with masturbation balls in your cunt. You say you don’t enjoy it, but your little cunt gets wet in
the morning just anticipating what I will do to you, isn’t it!”
Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “haha, just like the bus-ride that day. Didn’t you CUM, with someone
finger-banging you? You came like a cum-whore, Grace.”
Grace’s cheeks flushed with the memory.
“You ARE a cum-whore, Grace,” he stated in her face. “Say it!”
“I- I … am.. a .. cum.. whore..” she said.
Royston increased the speed of the butt plug to high, as he continued humiliating her. “Cum-whore, when you
were buying coffee, did you almost cream in your panties simply from all the men watching you? They can
recognize a slut masturbating just by the way she walks, you know? What were you wearing on your feet?”
“My- my fuck me heels, Sir,” she replied.
“Yes, your CFM shoes,” he said, “and what are you saying to all these men looking at you?”
“Come Fuck Me….” Grace replied, her knees buckling.
Just as Grace thought she was close to cumming (without permission!), the vibrations in her ass died down.
“Take off your panties and show me how much of a cum whore you are,” said Royston, “or would you prefer to
sit down on that couch, spread open your legs and show me?”
Horrified at the second idea, Grace reached under her skirt, and started to pull down her panties. She paused
with the panties tight around her knees. Royston did not seem to want to get up to see how wet her panties were.
Leaning down, Grace hooked one finger onto one side of her panties and pulled it down to her ankle. Then she
worked her panties around the high heel shoe and got one side off, and repeated with her other foot and high
heels. While doing so, she felt the benwa balls slipping lower, so she had to squeeze her vaginal muscles to hold
them in.
Royston had picked a smaller set of benwa balls for Grace, since this was her first time. When she got used to it,
he would step up the training with slightly larger and heavier balls, which would be harder to hold in. The idea
that she would eventually be doing her grocery shopping with the balls in her pussy ,with no panties to hold
them in, made his cock harden – if she sneezed, laughed or coughed, the balls would be sure to drop out.
Holding the panties in her hand, she approached Royston’s desk and put it down in front of him. Grace was
feeling extremely vulnerable that the butt plug was still lodged in her ass while the benwa balls were in her pussy.
Royston was watching her intently, but Grace could not guess what was on his mind.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door which made her jump. She was mortified when Royston looked at her
and said…“Come in” !
“John ! You’re early….” said Royston as the door opened and the older man appeared. Grace’s heart was in her
mouth, as her panties were still on Royston’s desk. The anxiety and shame was apparent from her face, like a little
girl caught peeing.
“Ah, everybody is here!” said Michelson, “I just wanted to make sure that there were a couple of items that we
would be covering later in our meeting. Can we just have a chat for five minutes?”
“Yes, sure John. Why don’t you take a seat at the couch with Grace. Let me retrieve my notes and I will join you
in a second,” replied Royston. With a casual move, he had picked up Grace’s panties and dropped them in the
drawer of his desk.
“Grace! How have you been? You look great!” beamed the towering man, looking at her chic jacket and short
skirt. He moved forward, to which Grace also leaned forward. They quickly exchanged kisses applied to each
side of the face.
“Thank you.. Mr Michelson,” said Grace nervously, like a little girl caught with her panties down. “It’s a pleasure
to see you again,” she said.
The pleasure she had on her mind that she prayed NOT to happen was the possibility of the butt plug going into
a vibration frenzy again. Here she was, standing in front of a managing director with a butt plug filling her ass,
and no panties. It would be incredibly humiliating if the benwa balls dropped out from under her skirt !
Awkwardly, she remained standing, with Mr M smiling at her. She looked away, tucking a fringe of her hair
behind her ear. She felt a chill grip her heart when she suddenly remembered the two top buttons of her blouse
were still undone. No wonder Mr M looked at her again queerly just a second ago! Embarrassed, she could not
button up without attracting more attention from Mr M, so she decided to leave them. She didn’t want him to
start speculating what she was doing in there with Royston if she suddenly buttoned up – a sure sign of guilt. She
would rather have him think she wore blouses like this in the office, and didn’t bother wearing a bra.
“Hi,” said someone at the door. It was an attractive young woman, a few years younger than Grace, dressed in a
pristine white executive suit.
“Oh yes, come in Dawn,” said Mr Michelson, “Dawn is my trusty right hand woman,” the big man said with a
grin. “She will join in the meeting later too. My other associate, Lance, is on his way.”
“Good to meet you Dawn!” said Royston, shaking her hand. “Nice meeting you finally Royston,” the lady smiled.
“The pleasure is mine, “ replied Royston. “Dawn, meet Grace,” said Royston, “Grace is my assistant.”
Dawn appeared to raise an eyebrow with that statement, but said nothing.
“Hi,” said Grace and Dawn, shaking hands with each other. “We’ve already know each other,” announced Dawn.
“Really?” said Mr Michelson.
“Yes,” replied Dawn, “Grace and I were from the same college.”
“That’s great,” said Royston, looking at Grace with an amused expression.
“It’s nice seeing you again Dawn. It’s been four years, hasn’t it?” said Grace.
“Yes, I didn’t realize you worked here,” said Dawn.
Mr Michelson laughed, touching Dawn on her elbow in a friendly way, adding, “Well life is full of coincidences,
isn’t it? “
Making himself comfortable on the couch, he explained himself to Royston and Grace, “I didn’t know Dawn’s the
daughter of an old friend of mine either ! When I saw her impressive credentials, I said to myself, I got to hire this
smart and promising young lady! Two years later, here we are, and I’ll add ‘capable’ too! ”
“Oh, John, you are making me blush with all those compliments,” Dawn said with a smile. Turning to the other
two, she said in a tongue-in-cheek manner, “My boss is nice, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know about nice,” said Royston jokingly, “but everytime he drops by this region, I know I have a lot of
work to do!”
With that the men laughed. “Work.. yes, “ said Dawn, sitting down on the couch, opening her folder, with a wry
smile.
Grace took the opportunity to look at Dawn again. Her hair and makeup were immaculate, and she was very
pretty. She had lost the geeky glasses she wore in college.
Royston located his documents from his desk, and walked over. He beckoned Grace to sit down with him on one
side of the coffee table while Mr M sat on the other side, with Dawn. Grace obeyed, and sat down carefully,
concerned every second that the benwa balls would slip out of her cunt accidentally.
Barely two minutes into the discussion, Grace let a small cry escape her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized
immediately. She had interrupted Mr Michelson who was talking to Royston. The big man stared at her in
wonder for a second before erupting to a gentle laugh. Dawn stared at her too.
Grace squirmed a little in her seat. “I just remembered that I left my mobile phone at home,” she lied, her face
turning hot. The truth were that benwa balls in her cunt were vibrating! Grace had no choice but to keep her legs
even tighter together, for she was so afraid that Mr Michelson or Dawn would hear the humming of that stringed
little devil emanating from between her legs!
Michelson continued talking but every now and then his eyes would look at Grace, who seemed to be feeling
very uneasy and tense.
The five minutes seemed like an eternity to Grace, for it was as if the metallic balls had a mind of their own,
wreaking havoc in her love canal, pushing back against the vaginal walls that tried to restrain them. Whenever
they contacted each other as they rolled and floated about inside of her, they would rattle even more violently,
setting her entire lower abdomen and pubic zone on liquid fire. Her juices were flowly freely, and without the
panties, she could feel the wetness seeping out from her cunt hole, threatening to make a wet spot where she sat
on her skirt.
Grace could sense Dawn looking at her periodically, suspicious if not a little annoyed at Grace’s mannerisms.
Grace could not help but be self-conscious under that piercing gaze. She felt ashamed. It was as if Dawn could see
right through her clothes – see how Grace was in this meeting not wearing any bra or panties. Her old college
rival would discover how Grace was a slut who loved displaying her body in the office, a slut who let men stick
their toys and penises into her holes.
With the benwa balls vibrations getting stronger, Grace was in a quandary. On the one hand, she didn’t want
Dawn to think she was masturbating in their presence, as some girls do by squeezing their thighs as they sit. On
the other hand, she was deeply afraid that if she forced herself to relax, her vagina’s grip on the benwa balls
would slip. Without her panties, the balls would drop at her feet!
In desperation, Grace quickly crossed her legs. Immediately the warm and wet sensation doubled, triggering a
spasm of pleasure that danced in her crotch and spread to her rope bound breasts and erect nipples. Grace felt
herself approaching the brink of orgasm, but somehow managed to pull herself back. She almost came right then.
While she managed to stifle the moan within her and stay completely quiet, the rush of color to her face and flush
in her skin was apparent. FUCK, she told herself. Dawn must have seen the look on her face.
“Could you pour us more coffee grace?” said Royston.
Grace looked slightly pale, but nodded quickly. She had to stand up, and she knew she had no panties.
Relaxing her pelvic muscles, while standing up, to neutralize the overwhelming sensation resonating from the
depths of her womanhood, was simply out of the question. Royston continued talking about the presentation.
Getting up from her seat slowly, Grace felt a pang of panic, as she felt one of the heavy duotone balls pushing
against her vagina entrance, threatening to pop out.
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