m/f

I slowly become aware of my surroundings….it is dark, cold, and clammy. I sit up; feeling a weight on my ankle I look down but it is so dark I cannot see. I slide my hand down my leg gasping as I feel steel locked around my ankle. My fingers continue to feel around my ankle stopping suddenly as they grasp a hold of a chain. I fall to the floor feeling along the chain trying to find out where it ends. I stop at a solid cement wall where the chain is attached. Sobbing, I start to look around, but it was so dark I could barely see my hand.



‘HELLO???? IS ANYONE THERE????’



I started shivering, and it dawned on me that I was nude. Where the hell are my clothes? Where am I?



I crawl back to the bed, if you want to call it that. It is more a slab of concrete as I discover when I reach it. I curl up crying, terrified not sure how I came to be in this situation. The last thing I remember was sitting at the bar chatting with a handsome black gentleman. He bought me several drinks throughout the evening, as we argued, but don’t remember what the argument was about. I don’t remember much after that. Is he the one that brought me here? What am I doing here?



I must have cried myself to sleep as the next thing I knew, loud noises were coming from outside the cell I was in. I blink as a light is shined my way, quickly I sit up on the bed shaking in fear.



‘Who are you? What do you want with me? LET ME GO NOW!!’ I start screaming at the figure in the doorway. Silently the figure approaches me and before I know what has happened a rope is looped around my wrists and tightened, the chain removed from my ankle and I am dragged out of the cell into a dimly lit space. I look around with fear filled eyes, seeing things that I’ve only read about. Quickly my hands are raised above my head, and I find myself hanging in the middle of the room, tiptoes barely touching the floor. Before I could mutter a sound, my mouth is filled with a gag, locked behind my head. The shrouded figure roughly pulls my ankles apart latching cuffs to them, leaving me completely exposed. Tears stream down my cheeks as I hang there, terrified about what will happen next.



He stands in front of me; big hands reach up and grab hold of my tits, pinching them tightly. He laughs as I squirm, attempting to loosen his grip. I shake in my bonds, anger starting to flow through my body at his treatment of me.



‘Do you remember what you told me last night, bitch?’



I think, trying to remember the night before, shake my head as my memories are gone. Something tells me that I have gotten myself into something I may regret.



‘You, my little white bitch, told me that there was no way that any black man could get you to submit to him. You flat out told me that no black man would ever touch your body sexually, and that as far as you were concerned, black men weren’t worthy of your time. YET, you continued to accept my generosity by drinking every drink MY BLACK MONEY purchased. So now, I will show you who is superior, and will prove to you that YOU WILL submit to a black man. Your life as you knew it is no longer. You now belong to me, just as my forefathers belonged to your forefathers. You will know pain like never before, and eventually you will beg me daily to beat you.’



With those words, he slapped my face not once, not twice but five or six times. My cheeks were on fire as tears of pain and fear streamed down my cheeks.



Why oh why couldn’t I ever learn to shut my mouth?



He moves over to the side of the room, I hear him rummaging around but I can’t see what he is doing. I shake, rattling chains as I become more and more terrified. He returns grinning evilly as his hands slowly reach out and grab my nipple. I scream into the gag as lightening flashes through my nipples. The pain won’t stop; I look down and see silver clamps attached to my nipples, a chain between the two dangling between my breasts. He kneels down between my legs; I feel his fingers harshly tug on my pussy lips. My body violently shakes as he places two more clamps on my pussy lips, dropping the chain. Before I know it, a large dildo is shoved up into my pussy, I try to lift my body upwards in an effort to get away from the intruder, but eventually my arms tire and I end up lowering myself onto the hard dildo. I hang there with clamps dangling from my tits and nether regions, my pussy filled to capacity as I impale myself on the hard cock sticking up between my legs.



To be continued…

“Please Rick, no,” I pleaded as I got into his car. “I’ll cooperate with you when we make the tape, I’ll hand deliver it to her, I’ll even hang around while she watches it; but I can’t have her in the room when we do it.”



“Why is that?” he asked.



“She’s my sister!” I exclaimed. “It’s gross enough that now she knows about the things you’ve done to me, and I don’t even want to think about what happened back in the diner. Christ, I think today was literally the first time we’ve ever even discussed sex.”



“Funny,” Rick commented, “I never would have guessed based on how you shoved your tongue down her throat.”



“She shoved her tongue down mine,” I corrected him.



“Ah, my mistake,” Rick laughed. “Was she also the one who came while a diner full of strangers watched?”



Forced to remember what I had done, I hung my head in shame. I couldn’t believe how low I had sunk. I couldn’t believe how much I enjoyed it. I couldn’t believe that no matter how disgusted I was with myself, I didn’t want it to end.



Sitting in silence, I wanted Rick to say something. I hated being left alone with my thoughts; thoughts that made it increasingly difficult to pretend that this was all rape. Not in the habit of reducing my pain, though, Rick simply drove in silence; giving me ample time to torment myself.



Ricked pulled up in front of a small house. Parking the car, he got out and waved at Rachael, who had been following us. Taking a deep breath, I exited the vehicle and followed Rick inside.



He led me into his living room and instructed for me to sit on the couch. As I obeyed, Rachael took a seat next to me, with Rick sitting in a chair opposite the coffee table. As they stared at me with examining eyes, I looked around.



Rick’s place was small, but not tiny. Nearly devoid of any decoration, it was clearly the abode of a single man. While I wouldn’t call it dirty, it was certainly a bit on the messy side — though random objects were carelessly left without a proper place, I didn’t feel like I needed a tetanus shot to sit down.



“She’s too messy,” Rick observed. “I want her enthusiastic and happy for this, especially if you’re planning to show it off.”



“Good point,” Rachael agreed. “Could we also make her look a bit more whorish? Right now she looks like just some random girl, it doesn’t really mesh with the ‘sex fiend’ image that I think you’re going for.”



“I’d like that,” Rick remarked, “though I don’t exactly have a closet full of women’s clothing. I do have scissors, though, if you’d like to make some quick alterations to what she’s wearing.”



“That could do work,” Rachael stated. “I’ve got some makeup to fix her up as well.”



“I’ll grab the scissors,” Rick said as he rose, before turning his attention to me. “Sara, give your sister your clothes. I expect you to obey her as you would me until I return.”



Outnumbered and on his turf, I had no choice but to comply. As Rick left the room I took off my shirt and handed it to Rachael. Removing my pants, I saw her eyes grow wide. Looking down, I understood why — my panties were soaked, where they were once opaque white cotton they were now practically transparent.



“I hope you’re not planning to sit back down with those on,” Rachael warned. “Frankly, you shouldn’t even have them anymore. It seems to me that if a man can make your panties that wet, you ought to offer them to him as a trophy.”



“Please Rachael,” I pleaded. “He’s not in the room. You’re my sister; you need to stop helping him violate me.”



“I may be your sister,” she sneered, “but until he gets back I’m your fucking owner. I don’t want to disappoint him; maybe if you were as diligent in your duties you wouldn’t find yourself in this mess. If you don’t want to see how willing I am to abuse the fuck out of you, sister or not, you’d better remove the panties and offer them to him when he gets back.”



Sobbing, I slid my panties down and gathered them in my hand. Now naked except for my bra and the sex toy strapped crudely to my crotch, I felt extremely vulnerable. Rachael’s obvious stares only intensified this feeling. I wanted to tell her to stop, that it was inappropriate to look at her sister like that, but given the situation it seemed pointless.



Rick returned with the scissors and handed them to my sister. Remembering Rachael’s instructions, I offered him my panties. Smiling, he glanced at Rachael knowingly.



“What’s this?” he asked, feigning ignorance.



“A trophy,” I mumbled in shame.



“Aww, how sweet,” he laughed. “Tell me, what have I done to earn such a trophy?”



I wanted to give a short answer in the hopes of quickly ending this conversation. Rachael seemed to have guessed that, and shot me a warning glance, as if to remind me that my answer had better be good. I didn’t want to provoke her, and giving Rick a brief answer was unlikely to make him stop embarrassing me anyway.



“You made my cunt so wet that I soaked through my panties,” I whimpered. “When a man does that, he deserves a trophy. Please accept my panties as proof of your conquest.”



“Good answer,” he acknowledged, “but I can’t take all the credit here. I merely set the situation up; it was your sister that ultimately pushed you over the edge. I think she deserves the trophy, not me.”



Mortified by the thought but without alternative, I offered my panties to Rachael. Rachael looked at me with disgust for a second before accepting them, but held them at arm’s length. I hoped that she would put them down, but she didn’t seem interested in letting it go so quickly.



“What the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” she laughed at me. “I’m certainly not going to wear them, not after you’ve defiled them like this. Wait, I know — open your mouth, bitch.”



As I opened my mouth, Rachael wadded my panties into a ball. Carefully examining them, she manipulated the fabric so that the inside of the crotch was facing out. Once satisfied, she stuffed them into my mouth and took a seat.



“Keep those in there until you’re told you may remove them,” she ordered. “You can occupy yourself by sucking the cunt cream out of them.”



“Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to discuss some of the ground rules,” Rick announced. “As you know, Sara, you’re about to star in your very own pornographic video. Both your sister and I have plans for showing off this video, so it’s critical that you deliver a performance that will work with the ideas we’re trying to convey. Do you understand?”



Unable to speak, I simply nodded my head in acceptance.



“Good girl,” he praised. “So, first rule: you will not identify either your sister or myself at any point. Both of us have reputations to protect, and we can’t be seen as the type of people who would stoop so low as to fuck a disgusting whore such as yourself. Do not refer to either of us by name, or give any indication that you know who we are.”



“The second rule,” he continued, “also concerns identity — this time yours. You will identify yourself by your full name on tape, and will not attempt to conceal your identity in any way throughout the shooting. In the finished product, there should be absolutely no doubt in the viewer’s mind that it’s definitely you getting your asshole reamed. Understood?”



I nodded again.



“Finally, I want you to demonstrate enthusiasm. I want you desperate for cock, not reluctantly accepting it. Grovel for it, beg for it, spare yourself no dignity. In other words, quit pretending you’re being raped — you’re not fooling anyone, anyway.”



Laughing at his comment, Rachael put the final touches on my shirt. She had slashed away the bottom so that it would only come down to a couple inches below my breasts, and given it a plunging neckline to show my cleavage. She held the altered clothing up for Rick’s approval.



“Not ideal,” he critiqued, “but I suppose it will do the job. Get her dressed and made up. The bathroom is down the hall.”



Rachael escorted me to Rick’s bathroom, carrying me newly altered clothes in one hand and her purse in the other. Entering the bathroom, she stood me in front of the mirror and removed the panties from my mouth.



I could see what Rick meant when he said that I was too messy. My face was sticky with a mixture of tears, saliva, and cum. Grabbing a washcloth and holding it under the sink, Rachael prepared to correct this.



“Try to relax,” she encouraged. “You don’t have a choice in this, so you may as well enjoy it.”



“Why are you helping him?” I sobbed. “Are you really that mad about what happened in high school?”



“I’m still a little irritated,” she admitted. “High school could have been fun without you cock-blocking me every chance you got. To answer your question, though, I’m not just helping him — I’m helping you. You’ve always been so obsessed with being so proper. I think a nice, hard ass-fucking could do you a world of good. It sounds like you enjoy it, anyway. Did you really cum twice?”



“Yes,” I confessed. “I don’t know what happened. Have you ever had anal sex?”



“Oh god, no,” she laughed. “Sara, I know you think I’m a little loose, but I’m not a slut. Only sluts take it in the ass.”



Rachael finished cleaning me up and applied the makeup. She did good work. Not only did I no longer look miserable, I really looked like a whore. As I marveled at her work, she stripped off my bra and removed the vibrator. Handing me the clothes, she instructed me to put them on.



Calling them clothes would be a bit of a stretch. I owned swimsuits that exposed less skin than my shirt and pants now did. Rachael, however, apparently didn’t think that she had gone far enough. Picking up her lipstick, she wrote the word “WHORE” across my chest in bright, red letters. It might have just been my imagination, but it felt like she used the opportunity to cop a feel.



“There,” she stated, “now you look the part. I need you to act the part, too. I want to see you cum hard, Sara. I’ll know if you fake it, too — I am your sister and all. If you don’t cum for real, I will let Rick know. Promise me that you’ll show your little sister how a slut cums when she gets fucked in the ass.”



“I promise,” I sighed. After the experiences in the diner and Kate’s apartment, I knew I would anyway. The challenge would have been if she had made me promise not to cum.



Rachael marched me back into the living room where we found Rick playing with a camera. Handing it to Rachael, he removed his shirt and tied it over his head, hiding his face. He instructed me to take a seat on the couch as Rachael turned the camera on and pointed it at me.



“Hi there!” he announced. “What’s your name?”



“Uhm, Sara, I guess?” I stammered out.



Rick let out a heavy sigh and motioned to Rachael to stop recording. Approaching the couch, he took a seat next to me. Grabbing me by the shoulder, he pulled me over his lap. I put up no struggle; I knew it was futile anyway.



“It wasn’t a trick question,” he explained. “You don’t have to guess. You know what your name is; all you have to do is state it clearly for the camera — along with your last name as well.”



“She didn’t sound very cheerful, either,” Rachael pointed out. “If you’re going to punish her, can I help?”



“Possibly,” Rick pondered. “Let’s let her decide. Sara, you’re going to be spanked for your poor performance. Would you prefer that I deliver the spanking, or your sister?”



“Please don’t make me pick,” I begged. It was bad enough that I was going to be spanked, making me decide who did it was just evil.



“If you don’t want to decide, that’s fine,” Rick shrugged. “You can get a spanking from both of us. If you’d rather just get one, though, I recommend you tell me whom you’d like to deliver it.”



As Rick slid my pants down to my thighs I thought about my options. If I went with Rick, it would probably hurt a lot more — he was a lot bigger than Rachael, after all. Additionally, Rachael would probably resent me for it. Going with Rachael, on the other hand, would mean that I’d be spanked by my little sister, which seemed especially humiliating. Still, it would be less painful, and I didn’t think Rick would mind it if I chose her.



“I guess I’ll go with Rachael,” I groaned. It sucked, but at least she might be a little gentler.



“Why aren’t I surprised, you little dyke whore?” Rachael laughed, putting down the camera and approaching.



Burying my head in the couch, I braced myself for the impact. It came quickly, and it came hard — it was clearly a mistake to assume that Rachael would be gentle. I was shocked — not only that Rachael would be willing to hit me that hard, but that she was even capable of doing so.



“Careful,” Rick cautioned. “I don’t want any bruises that are visible in the video. Try not to leave any marks.”



“Aww, come on Rick,” she argued. “This bitch is probably loving this. Go ahead and check her cunt, I bet she’s already juicing up down there.”



I silently prayed that he wouldn’t. Rachael was right — the humiliation, the burning sensation spreading from my ass cheek to the rest of my body, and the overall feeling of powerlessness was taking its toll on me. My mind might have hated this, but my cunt was drooling for more.



My prayers went unanswered. Encouraged by my own sister, Rick crudely jammed his hand between my legs, worming his fingers into my pussy. As he began finger fucking me, I again buried my head in his couch, trying to ignore the tell-tale wet sounds emanating from my crotch.



“I guess a few marks wouldn’t by a problem,” Rick conceded, “and she does seem to enjoy it. Try not to draw blood, though.”



“Told you so,” my sister laughed as she struck me again. “God, I love the way her ass jiggles when I hit it hard.”



It was humiliating. I felt so intensely vulnerable, bent over Rick’s knee, unable to fight back or even defend myself. The fact that they both knew how aroused I was made it worse, but the fact that my little sister was the one responsible made it almost unbearable. Closing my eyes, I tried to pretend that it was someone — anyone — other than Rachael doing the spanking.



“I think that’s enough,” Rick announced after Rachael had hit my several more times.



“I was just getting warmed up!” Rachael protested. She was enjoying this way too much.



“Don’t be disappointed, I’m sure she’ll do something worthy of punishment soon enough,” Rick comforted her. “And hey, maybe the next time I’ll get a bit more creative than just spanking. I can think of other ways you could abuse Sara that might be more enjoyable.”



Rick’s words scared the hell out of me. I could easily imagine him punishing me by having my own sister sexually assault me, and the way that Rachael was acting I could imagine her going along with it. I told myself that it was disgusting, and on a conscious level I believed it, but my cunt was intrigued.



Climbing up off Rick’s lap I took a seat on the couch. It hurt a bit to sit down, but I did my best to conceal it. My cunt might have been looking forward to the next punishment, but my brain was perfectly fine with putting it off as long as possible. As Rachael turned the camera back on, we began again.



“Hello, there!” Rick announced. “What’s your name?”



“I’m Sara Fishuvudet!” I replied, doing my best to sound cheerful.



“Wow, Sara, you sure sound happy,” Rick observed. “What’s got you in such high spirits?”



“Well,” I answered, “I’m about to get my ass fucked! There’s nothing I love more than a nice, hard cock up my ass!”



“And who is the lucky gentleman who will be doing this deed?” Rick asked. “Is it someone you know?”



“I don’t know,” I answered. “It might be? I don’t really care, as long as I get ass-fucked.”



I wondered if I was overdoing it. With Rick’s face covered by the mask it was difficult to judge his reaction. I didn’t want to act any sluttier than I needed to in order to avoid punishment, but without seeing his reaction it was difficult for me to know where that line was.



“So, Sara,” Rick continued, “tell me about the last time that you got ass-fucked.”



“It was just last night,” I answered. “I was hanging out with some friends, and this guy fucked me in the ass while they watched. It was so hot; I came twice!”



“Was that guy a friend?” Rick prodded.



“No,” I answered honestly. “Actually, I fucking hate him. He’s a real piece of shit. But you know how it is, whores like me can’t be picky, and his cock was hard!”



I hoped that my comment at the end would spare me Rick’s wrath. In a way, describing him as my enemy worked for the image he was trying to portray, and it was just too tempting to pass up a chance to verbally bash him. I wished that I could see his face; I really wanted to know if he was smiling or growling at me.



Whichever it was, he apparently wasn’t angry enough to stop filming. Walking into the frame, he stood in front of me and dropped his pants. His semi-hard dick flopped out, but he didn’t grab me or force me to do anything with it. Realizing that he probably wanted me to take the initiative on camera, I forced myself to smile and put it in my mouth.



Rick didn’t seem to approve. He shoved me back against the couch, causing me to look up in confusion. Playfully, he reached forward and slapped me across the face.



“I know you’re eager to get that dick hard enough to ram up your asshole,” he laughed, “but try to slow down a bit. Give it some kisses, first.”



It made sense; Rick wanted me to look like the aggressor, not the victim. By telling me to slow down on camera, he made it look like he was the chaste one. Figuring I would look like a whore no matter what happened, I played along.



“I’m sorry, sir,” I pleaded as I planted kisses along his shaft. “I just love cock so much, sometimes I can’t control myself.”



“It’s okay, bitch,” he laughed. “Take your time, though. I promise, you’ll get your ass fucked soon enough.”



If Rick’s cock was any indication, he approved of my manner of speech. It grew rapidly under my kisses until it was rock hard. Feeling him put his hand on the back of my head, I opened my mouth to allow his cock into my mouth.



I tried to move my head forward but Rick wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he simply held me in place as he forced his cock further into my mouth and down my throat. It took all of my energy just to suppress my gag reflex as my nose butted up against his stomach.



Rick held me in that position for several seconds. Running low on oxygen I began to worry, but he released my head before I felt the need to struggle. Moving his hand to my chin, he leaned down to whisper in my ear.



“I know you probably didn’t enjoy that,” he whispered. “If you’d like to avoid having it done to you again, I recommend you show me how a good whore sucks cock. No matter what I say on camera, I want you to be aggressive — hurt yourself it if need be. Fail me, and the next time I ram my dick down your throat I’ll keep it there until you turn blue.”



Rick stood back up and placed his hands on his hips. Not wanting to be gagged again I lunged forward, eagerly shoving his cock into my mouth. Forcing it into my throat until it became uncomfortable I began a series of quick, short thrusts.



“Deeper,” he growled.



Obeying his order, I began going deeper with each stroke. It was tremendously uncomfortable, but in a way, that made it hot. Each time I forced myself to push just a little further, until I had it in all the way. I hoped that Rick appreciated my efforts, but there was no way to know for sure.



Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rachael slide her hand down the front of her skirt. I wasn’t sure how to handle it. My mind screamed at me that it was wrong, that she shouldn’t do things like that in my presence, and especially not as a result of abuse that I was suffering. At the same time, I wanted her to continue. I don’t know why, but the idea of my own sister masturbating to my brutal throat raping was a major turn-on. It didn’t matter, anyway — even if I had the words to make her stop, I’d be unable to speak them with Rick’s cock rapidly plunging in and out of my mouth.





Chapter 1: Monday Mornings



Monday mornings always sucked. This morning was worse than usual however. My head still hurt from imbibing way too much alcohol over the weekend. I hadn’t drunk so much that I blacked out since I was a 19 year old corporal and stationed at Fort Hood, Texas; over a decade ago. I guess it just goes to show that sometimes a guy never learns.



I tried to ignore my lingering headache and focus my attention at the task at hand. Following my usual morning routine, I was making the final adjustments to the large butt plug that would work Mandy’s veteran asshole for the rest of the day. Mandy was my personal secretary. She was a cute, mousy, little blond in her early 30′s. You know the type: Bubbly personality. Terminally flirty. Every guy at the office’s wet dream. I’d been plugging up her ass for years, ever since we discovered our mutual love of the gaping female nether hole over a few too many beers at the bank’s Christmas party some time back.



“Mr. X, would you mind finishing up? I need to get the Franklin account filed before lunch,” Mandy asked politely as my mind wandered again. She was bent over my desk with the skirt of her suit thrown up over her back while she reached around to pull her ass cheeks apart helpfully for me. I had the three inch by twelve inch rubber dong about half way up her bum when I had gotten distracted with thoughts of my old military days.



I didn’t approve of normal butt plugs. In my very learned opinion, the tapering at the neck allowed the sphincter to relax and defeated the entire purpose of the exercise. As such, I preferred dilator plugs that either were a consistent thickness along the entire length or even got wider towards the base. Of course this required rubber or leather panties to be worn to keep the plugs in, but that was a mute point; she had to wear panties anyway, didn’t she?



“Sorry Mandy, here you go,” I apologized as I forced the remainder of the plug into her bottom. I massaged her well toned ass cheeks as she gasped in surprise and tensed at the unexpected violation. “I trust this is to your satisfaction?” I asked as I pulled up her leather panties, situated them around her waist and attached the tiny padlock at the small of her back, locking the plug in her ass until I took it back out just before we left for the day. The lock was unnecessary as she would never take it out without asking, but we both enjoyed out little games together and the added aspect of submission really got her juices flowing. Sometimes I was a little jealous of her boyfriend Jeff as she was usually so hot and bothered by the time she got off work that he was the one who got thrown onto the bed and fucked when she got home, not the other way around.



“That’s just about right. Thank you Mr. X,” Mandy said as she stood up and smoothed out her pin striped skirt over her bubble butt. She would be moving around the office all day with that large plug shoved up her backside while most of our coworkers would be oblivious to the plight of her straining sphincter and well stretched lower intestine. “Although, over the last week or so, I’ve really started to be able to get around without much discomfort. In fact, I almost forget I have this in me sometimes. I think we may need to step my butt up a size or two tomorrow,” she said mischievously and grinned.



“I think that’s a lovely idea, Mandy!” I responded. “Why don’t you take the petty cash credit card down to the boutique over lunch and buy a few more appropriately sized models and we’ll try them on for size tomorrow morning. Just to make sure we have enough time for a proper fitting, clear my schedule from 8:00 to 9:00 tomorrow morning. That should give us enough time to properly pack your hole. I’m thinking something around three and a half inches wide and maybe sixteen inches or so long. Use that as a baseline but get whatever size you think will make you feel most uncomfortable but still allow you to get you job done.”



“Of course, Mr. X. That sounds perfect,” she responded as she headed for the door, ass swaying provocatively as she did. “Oh! Don’t forget, you have a 10:00 AM with Mr. Bixby from City Mutual and an 11:00 AM lunch meeting with Mr. Stevens from corporate.” With that she was out of my office and back to her duties.



Damn! I hate it when she leaves but I love watching her go!



***



I looked at my desk clock; it was already 9:20 and I was getting too annoyed for this early on a Monday morning. Or at least I should be. Janet’s till from Friday had come up five cents short. Again! This was a reoccurring problem with the girls who worked the drive through window. Despite my extraordinary leadership and motivational abilities — and I have the corporate certificates and impressive looking awards framed on the wall to prove it — those girls just kept misplacing money. A nickel here. A dime there. I swear! If it wasn’t for me covering for them they would have been sent packing years ago! Of course, I had reviewed the security tapes from last week and I’d watched Janet deliberately open her drawer, pull out a nickel, and drop it down her abundant cleavage; all while looking at the camera and smiling mischievously. A good manager’s job is never done I guess.



I opened my lower left desk drawer to retrieve my ‘Teller Correctional Panties’, as I liked to call them. They were something of my own invention. They looked a lot like a normal garter belt at first glance, but that’s where the similarity ended. A garter belt went around a woman’s waist with straps hanging down and ending in clips to hold up stockings, but these panties were slightly modified. The straps that hung down did not end in clips but small metal hooks. They were designed to be inserted into a woman’s anus and pulled tautly outward forcing the most delicious gapes. I’d dubbed them ‘Gape Panties’. I’d tried to sell the design to a few lingerie companies but it seems that the world just isn’t quite ready for models to walk down the Paris runway while reporters and socialites examine their colon health from the comfort of their seats. I guess I’m just ahead of my time.



I walked out of my office and passed Mandy’s desk on my way to the drive through tellers’ booth. She was hard at work surfing the web for the latest in butt busting paraphernalia and nodded politely at my passing. I glanced at the screen long enough to see she was on a page that catered to gay men with a similar anal fetish; tomorrow morning should be fun, I thought to myself.



As I reached the locked door to the drive through tellers’ booth I banished all traces of a smile from my face and put on my best disappointed frown; back to business. My key card allowed me access to the booth and I stepped inside. Only the two tellers who worked the drive through, Mandy and myself had unfettered access to this part of the bank; a fact which allowed me a certain freedom to choose only very qualified women for the teller positions back here.



“Good morning, Mr. X,” Janet and Mai said in unison as they glanced at me from their positions. While Janet was a slightly older red head in her mid 40s, Mai was much younger lady in her later 20′s and of Japanese descent. Both women took care of themselves however, and my dick hardened at the sight of them. They were both naked from the waist down, save for garter belts, stocking and heels. While such a dress code would have been scandalous at any bank in the world, they got away with it because the outside wall came up to their chests and hid their lower bodies from our customers. No one inside the bank had access to their booth that wasn’t already in on their unorthodox dress code, so they couldn’t be surprised by their coworkers either.



The only two seats in the room were two tall stools on which they would sit. The stools themselves were normal; the large cone shaped plugs mounted to their tops were not. The cones were wide enough at the base that there was no way that their butt cheeks could ever actually touch the stool’s seats, but that was the point. At the moment, Janet was sitting down attending a customer while Mai was standing at the back of the booth filling out paper work. Mai turned slightly, without interrupting her work, to give me an excellent view of her dilated and gaping anus. Japanese Henti artists had at least one thing right: The sight of a beautiful Asian girl with an obscenely gaping anus was a truly magnificent form of art!



I walked up beside Mai, pretending to inspect her work. My hand, as nonchalantly as possible, found her shapely ass cheeks, squeezed it once and then disappeared up between those same shapely ass cheeks; her sphincter quickly adjusting itself around my wrist. Mai, to her credit, barely registered a flinch.



“Have a good weekend, Mai?” I asked.



“Not too bad, Mr. X,” she responded without missing a beat. “I was visiting my parents up state all weekend. Needless to say, I’m glad to be back to work. They do get very tiresome.”



“Parents can be like that,” I responded starting to pull my hand out slightly until her young sphincter was tautly stretched around the largest part of my clenched fist before allowing my hand to be sucked back into her needy body. “I don’t go home much for that very same reason.” I took up a slow, steady rhythm of fisting her ass as she continued to appease the bureaucracy. I waited for Janet to finish up with her oblivious customer: A cranky old lady who wanted her check cashed with this many $20s, that many $10s and the rest in rolls of quarters. Who the hell needs $50 in quarters in the 21st century anyway, I asked myself. Finally, Janet finished up and the cranky old lady drove off.



“Would you mind putting this on hold for a few minutes while I have a word with Janet?” I asked Mai, regretfully extracting my hand from her softly convulsing anus.



“Certainly, Mr. X,” she responded regretfully. The slight flush on her cheeks, the ones on her face not below the ones below her waist — stay with me here people — the only noticeable telltale of how much she was getting into her impromptu anal fisting session. She glanced quickly out of the thick bullet proof window to ensure that no customers were waiting before bringing my soiled hand up to her lips to clean off my fingers. Her eyes never left mine as she moved from one finger to the next; ensure each one was sparkling clean. It never ceased to amaze me how much suction the young woman could create with her mouth. It was one of her most admiral talents. Too bad it’s not the kind of thing that would be acceptable to place on a resume.



Finished with her task, she returned to her seat. Mai lined up the cone shaped plug under her recently vacated rectum and lowered herself down. The muscular ring opened up like it was accepting an old friend, which it most definitely was. She pulled her feet up to the highest set of bars on the stool to place her full weight onto her ass’s outer ring. She then took a few seconds to reapply the thin straps of Velcro that held her ankles to her thighs before her next customer pulled up to her window. Mai began talking to her new customer with no outward signs of the amount of stress that she’d just willfully placed her talented nether hole under; she really did love the dress code at her job!



I took a step over to Janet as she turned on her stool to face me. The stool itself didn’t turn; she merely allowed the oversized cone violating her back hole to rotate 180 degrees around the inside her straining orifice. She had a knowing look in her eye.



“What can I help you with, Mr. X?” she asked. I sized her up, like I always do when she’s in this position. Her natural FF cup breasts were almost busting out the top of the almost-too-revealing-to-be-appropriate-in-a-business-environment silk blouse she normally wore; possibly the source of the aforementioned cranky old lady’s crankiness. However, most of the male customers, and even some of the female ones, appreciated the view very much and so no one ever said anything to her about her choice of tops.



Just below where her blouse ended her engorged and dripping pussy lips were clearly visible, as was the lower part of the cone shaped plug prying apart her well worn asshole. My eyes traveled back up her body in a most unprofessional manner to meet her eyes once again. I banished the smile that had formed on my face and put my best disappointed frown back on; the one I had put on earlier before getting distracted with Mai. My momentary lapse in sternness did not go unnoticed my Janet, but she didn’t comment on it. What good is her pretending to screw up, and me pretending to punish her, if we don’t play our preordained rolls?



“It seems that your till came up short again last Friday, Janet. This is your seventh discrepancy this month,” I said seriously. Janet’s face showed sudden bewilderment and she cast her eyes down, right on queue.



“Ooooh! Busted!” Mai proclaimed from behind me.



I turned my head around to look at Mai briefly to reprimand her. “And your record is none too brilliant either Ms. Zhu. I suggest you attend your customer and leave the employee correction to me: The manager. You know, the guy who makes the big bucks to make sure that you two still have jobs tomorrow,” I said with a slight twinkle in my eye. Mai, looking properly scolded, found something else to focus her attention on; I’m pretty sure it was more the wiggling of her hips to force the cone further up into her ass than it was the impatient looking man in the pickup truck at her window.



I returned my attention to the errant teller in front of me, “Here at Town Bank we do not condone or tolerate sloppy money handling; this is a bank after all! I’m afraid you leave me no choice but to apply corporal punishment or to put in the paper work for your position’s immediate termination. It’s your choice. Which is it going to be?” I already knew the answer before I even asked the question; it’s the same ultimatum I give her once or twice a week.



“I’m sorry sir, I guess I need reminding again,” she answered without meeting my eyes. “I do get too sloppy at times.”



“I assumed as much,” I responded, knowing that the sloppiness she was referring to was not the sloppiness of her work. It was a far more accurate description to the dual holes between her legs and buttocks. “Go ahead and stand up and let’s get you into your ‘Teller Correctional Panties’,” I commanded.



She meekly stood up, stepped to the side of her stool and bent over the counter slightly. I kneeled down behind her, holding up the gaper panties so she could step into them with practiced ease. After I had secured them around her waist, I seated the hooks into her still gaping anus. Just standing there her ass must have been gaping at least three inches across!



“Just remember: This is going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me,” I said I as I stared to pull the straps tight. Janet closed her eyes and whimpered as the straps were drawn outwards forcefully; her bright red rosebutt opening up like a flower in blossom in the spring. I continued to pull and tug at the straps as hard as I could until the gaping chasm between her butt cheeks was over five inches in diameter. Janet was shaking slightly with a tear or two in her eyes by the time I’d finished.



“Now, hopefully you’ll do better in the future,” I said as I admired the view. I could see right up into her guts for almost a foot; a foot of intestine and beyond that I knew well enough to be her proctologist. I could have stayed there for hours admiring that beautiful distended anus but I had other duties to attend to. Standing back up, I placed my hands on Janet’s shoulders and guided her tortured asshole back over the large cone on top of her stool. I pushed downwards and she sat obediently, allowing her punished sphincter to wrap itself around the majority of the cone shaped plug once again. I leaned down to once more admire my handiwork and noticed that Janet’s asshole had become so dilated that her cheeks were now less than an inch from actually touching the seat; the additional force of the Teller Correctional Panties assisting the plug to force her asshole to almost five and a half inches in diameter. I made a mental note to have Mandy pick up the next size larger cone plug for Janet’s stool when she went shopping over lunch. I should probably go ahead and have her pick up a larger one for Mai also; I don’t like playing favorites after all.



“Now that that little bit of unpleasantness is done with, you ladies have a productive day,” I said heading for the door. “Janet, come see me in my office sometime after lunch once you think you’ve been properly chastised.” She nodded wordlessly.



“Oh, just one more thing before I forget,” I said turning away from the door and walking up to stand behind Mai. Picking up a random sheet of paper on her counter and addressing the young Japanese girl, “be sure to get a copy of this on my desk before lunch.” The actual form was irrelevant. In fact, I had no idea what it even was. It was just a nonchalant way for me to put my hand on her shoulder and press firmly downwards; this added fifty or sixty more pounds of body weight to her already tortured anal sphincter. I was rewarded with a soft squeak from Mai as she sank farther down on the widening cone by at least another inch.



“Of course, sir,” she responded pleasantly after only a few moments hesitation to regain her composure. “Would you like to continue our conversation on bureaucracy that we already started over lunch? I’m sure your knowledge on the topic is ‘large’ enough to ‘fill’ any questions I may still have,” she said with a sly grin.



“Unfortunately, no. Not today,” I responded with heartfelt regret. Mai looked noticeably deflated. “I have a lunch meeting that will probably run long. And I don’t expect it to be anywhere near as satisfying as our usual lunch time conversations. Perhaps Mandy can free up some time on my calendar this afternoon. Give her a call and see what she can move around.”



“Yes, sir! I’ll be sure to do that,” Mai said cheerfully. That girl’s insatiable lust for all things anal never ceased to impress me.



Finally taking my exit, I closed the teller booth door and headed for my office. I knew I wouldn’t see Janet again to remove her ‘Teller Correctional Panties’ until it was closing time. Since she made a point to intentionally screw up and be forced to wear them, she had no intention of shortening her sentence.



God! I love my employees sometimes!



As I passed by Mandy’s desk, she stopped me with a raised finger. “Beth Johnson is holding on line three for you, sir.”



“Thank you, Mandy. I’ll take it in a minute,” I said as I walked into my inner office.



It’s good to be The Boss.

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