Dirty Forbidden Collection

by Amira Bradford

  He ran his hands all over her body. He was particularly interested in the up stretched muscles of April's chest due to her hanging by her wrists. He stood closely behind her and felt her breasts, the curve of her waist, he unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way. He felt her thighs, he felt her pussy soaking through her skirt, the cum of two men dripping out. He pressed his body up against hers and lifted her skirt up. He ran his cock, dripping with saliva, up and down her slit, feeling her openings. He found her ass and began pressing in without warming her up. 'Relax. Relax.' April stuck her ass out as far as it would go and relaxed her anus. She felt Sir's head go in first. Then her anus closed in around it. She felt his head press through her rectum, shaft following.

  That first stroke was slow. And deceptive. After that Sir let out a sigh. He told her she had a beautiful tight asshole and he fucked her hard, April's weight bouncing on and off of him at his will, as April's hands were tied so highly that she couldn't get her bearings with her feet. April could feel with every stroke that gigantic head forcing through and the long shaft following. It was amazing to her how sensitive she was there, anally. Sir grabbed her by the pelvis with both arms and came in her ass. One of the men unbound her and she fell to the ground. She was covered in moist earth on her legs, her hands, her face.

  "The next time you take a promotion like that you'd better think about the people close to you," said the man with the third voice. 'Is that what this is about?'

  "Real close," said the woman. April thought she recognized the eye shadow but she couldn't place it.

  "We'll be watching you," said the man with the second voice. Somehow, April wasn't intimidated.

  "Don't even think about reporting this to the police. We've got dirty pictures of you and the old bastard," said Sir.

  "How'd you get those?" asked April.

  "It's amazing what you can do with state of the art technology. Untraceable."

  "Over the fence!" cried the man with the second voice. They started to lift April up but April fought them off a bit.

  "I can get myself over the fence. I'm not going anywhere. There isn't a car in this lot. Your van's my only ride home. Just let me do it." Sir agreed. April struggled over the fence in her spike heels, skirt suit, and opened blouse. The fence was cold. 'I'll get my blouse first thing.' Before she knew it she was over the fence. The first one over. She could run for it. But probably not in those heels or barefoot when they had the use of the van very shortly. No. April stayed put.

  "What a good girl we have," said the man with the third voice, brushing at her jawline after hopping off the fence. April recoiled a little. Where was her Sir? He was the next to jump over the fence. He laid down his territory over April, hissing at the man with the third voice who ultimately left.

  "Yes we do have us a good girl," he said, gently removing strands of hair from April's eyes and lips. He smelled her where her shoulder meets her neck and savored the scent. "I may have to visit her again sometime. Put her in the van!" The others scrambled to tie April's wrists again while April fought them off, briefly locking eyes with Sir and grinning. Sir looked away. The others were able to bind her wrists behind her back and tied her ankles together so she couldn't walk. April had to be carried to the van where she sat askew, her toes together and heels apart in a desperate little attempt to balance herself.

  The van started, jostled about when everyone was getting seated, and went on its way. It was another long drive back to the parking garage. April knew the way so they didn't put the cloak over her head. The man with the third voice had blond eyelashes. He ate an apple through his mask with a pocket knife. They all continued to wear their masks. Including their female driver. April stared at her trying to get a clue as to who she was. She inspected her fingernail polish, the shape of her legs, shoes, shoe style, anything. A strand of hair. But there were no clues. And that eye shadow she couldn't place. The man with the second voice had wrinkly eyelids and was perhaps an older man. The older man caught her inspecting him and threw the cloak over her head. After that, time seemed to stand still until finally they were at the parking garage. The others quickly untied April's restraints but left her cloak on. They threw her out of the van and handed her her briefcase. There she stood, pigeon toed, blouse unbuttoned and partially tucked in, hair completely in knots, grasping her briefcase across her chest, in shock. She finally opened the case and found her own car keys and drove herself home.

  The long weekend was spent more alone than April had ever wanted or planned. She had confused, conflicted, mixed feelings. Powerful and overwhelming feelings. And because of this confliction April hadn't the faintest idea how to even begin talking to someone about what had happened to her. April was horrified, disgusted by the men who had carried out her rape. She shuddered at the thought of these men, mere men, being stronger, more powerful than she, sampling her, taking her, using her, then dumping her. They had won. But she had warm feelings welling up inside her when she thought of the man who had facilitated her captivity and rape, tender feelings intermingling with her feelings of shame, intertwining with her feelings of worthlessness. Knotted up in the experience with those jokers with the voices was her experience with that leader. She wanted to live happily ever after with her amorphous memory of her dear Sir. And it was these latter feelings that caused April the greatest shame, above all else amorousness towards one that is proven stronger.

  Come Monday April treated all of her coworkers with an equal amount of suspicion. Everyone seemed to glance at her a little too long. The only person she knew she could trust was Janice. Janice was the only person who seemed to act natural. April treated her with usual aloofness, didn't greet her as she passed Janice at her desk on April's way in to her office, and shut the door behind her. April dropped her briefcase, unwound her shawl, and plopped into one of her comfy guest seats, knees together, ankles apart, arms spread sticking straight out on the arm rests. 'Paranoia is exhausting.' She sipped her Starbucks coffee drink. And again. She listened to the sound of her golden desktop gift clock ticking.

  For a moment she couldn't bring herself to work, though there was so much to do she quickly got lost in paperwork and the long day had almost passed her by when at 5:30 Janice came rushing into her office.

  "What have I told you about knocki-"

  "It's Mr. Bradford!" Janice exclaimed, flailing her hands in the air.

  "The Old Bastard?" April asked. "What about him?"

  "He's having a heart attack! He was in a meeting and he just fell over clutching his chest. They've called 9-1-1!" said Janice. The Old Bastard was dead by the time the emergency response team arrived. An autopsy later revealed a massive coronary. He left his Cellucorp position and shares to his eldest son, Milton. Milton obtained his college degree on a football scholarship and never obtained any higher education degrees. He worked his way in and around the company in various managerial fluff jobs that seemed to be given to him rather than earned by him. These were jobs that could, in April's opinion, handle his inferior intellect. When he officially took over the company he was called to deliver an introductory speech before much of the upper level staff and his words were poorly delivered and ill received by much of the personnel. He was widely regarded as incompetent and many were worried for the future of the company and the security of their jobs. The Old Bastard may have been impossible to work with due to his stubborn thinking, ferocious decision making, and hot tempered remarks, but he knew how to run the company. Milton was clearly hopeless. The general feeling throughout the company was that the company was going to take a turn for the worse and everybody was bracing themselves for rough and rocky times.

  About a week after he took his position Milton called April into his office. He asked her a series of questions about how she felt about her new position. April did her best to answer as intelligently and capably as possible, trying to blatantly surpass him on an intellectual level, forgetting her place. Competitive girl. 'Meathead.'

  "We have a press confer
ence with Channel 5 tomorrow I will need a brief address written for them," said Milton. "And I want to initiate a new customer education philosophy in this company. You need to spearhead initiation of this philosophy within the company first, then lead the team for marketing it to the public."

  "I can have Janice write something up and I'll assemble a team for the new company philosophy," April said.

  "As assistant vice president of marketing, April, you will now oversee all aspects of the marketing area including internal and external communications, multi-channel marketing and advertising programs, public relations and community initiatives to support Cellucorp's strategic goals and customer-education philosophy and culture. I expect you, not Janice to write the brief speech. And when you assemble the teams for marketing the new company culture I expect you to be the head of those teams working, not delegating."

  "Yes sir," said April. She was shocked by his response to her. He was more intelligent than she thought. He'd given her a verbal beating and reminded her of her place in her relation to him. This verbal beating was like an intimate tendril reaching out, reaching deep down her mouth like Sir had, down her throat into her stomach, massaging the warm spot she felt for her Sir. All her mixed and twisted feelings came rushing back through her after this verbal slapping and she carefully placed one spiked heel in front of the other with haste and care not to let a tear drop from her eyes on her way back to her office. She passed Janice on her way in without greeting her again, this time not out of aloofness but out of fear that she would see her tortured face. Once she sat at her desk the tears began to flow. She liked his new initiative. She wrote the speech through tears and e-mailed it to Milton immediately. "Nice work," he e-mailed back. April felt a new kind of satisfaction. She found herself wanting to please him with this new enterprise.

  April continued, on a regular basis, to impress Milton during the new customer education campaign. On the Eve of the launch of the public campaign the company threw another party in the C.E.O.'s office. April once again found herself shaking hands with people who smiled at her, and gestured genuinely. She found herself wondering again what they were really thinking when they shook her hand, this time if they were her rapists, if maybe one of them was her Sir. Who fit that description? At one point one of April's superiors complimented her on her L.A. proposal and they wanted to see her notes on it.

  "Sure! I can go get them for you right now," she told them and she excitedly marched off to her office to get the notes. She was distracted with her excitement. She didn't see him follow her. After she walked into the office he walked in behind her and closed the door behind him. She turned around. It was Milton. She was pleased to see him. She wanted to tell him about the notes. She wanted to impress him. She stood in front of her desk, facing him as he walked towards her swiftly. He grabbed her by the neck and kissed her deeply. April wasn't herself. Normally she would have kissed back, massaged him all over, grabbed at him, but she didn't do any of those things. Her body just went limp. She completely gave in. This seemed to turn Milton on because he began groping her all over, behind her head, around her thigh, against her breast, along her back.

  He put her hand on his already semi-hard cock through his pants and April seemed to wake a bit, kissing back a bit, languidly rubbing Milton's cock, feeling it harden in her hands. He wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. He lifted her up and carried her over to the wall, jamming her back into it, April holding on. Milton unzipped his zipper and pressed April's skirt up over her hips, feeling across the back of her ass for the string of her g-string. He found it and pulled it aside. Milton shoved his cock into April's pussy without any lubrication. She felt his cock pass through the exterior mouth of her inner labia, then pass into soft wet insides.

  Milton pressed her into the wall by the hips and fucked her from below. April felt gravity drop her deep onto him. She wanted to be impaled by him. She gave in completely, bouncing with each thrust so that she could help create a longer thrust, bouncing high up on Milton's cock, and dropping down upon it with greater force. Milton pulled April off of him and carried her over the threshold to the desk where he put her down on her feet. With one swipe he knocked everything off the desk except for the lamp. He placed her on the desk and positioned her on all fours. The desk lamp was the only light in the room and it shone across April's breast. Milton jumped onto the desk and crouched over April, smelling her back. April was transported back to when Sir smelled her neck and she opened herself up to Milton, she arched her back as far as it would go, offering herself up to him. He entered her. This time her inner labia were wet and he entered her with ease. He fucked her briefly and began pressing himself into her ass. 'Relax. Relax.' He pressed his wet cock into her ass and April was able to relax. She bent her elbows and lowered her face down to the surface of the table. Milton appreciated this and pressed his enormous hand around her neck pressing her side-turned face into the desk. April melted, arching her back even further. It was in this position, under these conditions, that Milton came in her ass. He climbed off her, zipped his pants, thanked her, and left. April climbed off the desk, holding her skirt up, found the tissues on the floor and wiped herself up so as not to stain her skirt. She got her notes and left her office.

  April spent the next week in a confused daze. Never had she sought out men more powerful than she and now she sought out two. Sir was more physically powerful than she and Milton professionally more powerful. Two Fridays following the work party Milton asked to see April in his office. He wanted to invite her to dinner and the theater. Dinner would be at his place. He would like to cook for her. April blushingly accepted to Saturday.

  Saturday morning April slept in until noon. She ran on her treadmill for an hour and prepared herself an egg white omelet with peppers and tomatoes. She ate while watching the afternoon news, maybe one of their new ads would come on. April stewed in her workout juices, the heat from which emanated from her sweats. April proceeded to take a long bubble bath. She washed her hair in special smoothing shampoo, shaved her legs, slipped a bar of soap in between her waxed labia, making sure each fold had been cleansed. She vigorously massaged with the bar of soap under her arms and had to rinse carefully. She washed every crevice of her body and stepped out of the tub a cleansed woman. She dried herself off and laboriously lotioned her entire body. She stepped into her pale pink robe trimmed in antique lace.

  She sat down in front of her make-up table with the brush in one hand and the hair dryer in another. Her hair was to look perfect. She dried her hair with the brush and applied a serum to it that made it shine. She spent a great deal of time applying make-up to her face. It was to be just noticeably more than office make-up but nothing garish. She stepped into her garter skirt, black with a red lace panel in the front, and stepped into each stocking slowly, taking care the seams would go smoothly up the back, taking care the heels were in just the right place. April stepped into her highest spike heels of all. They were black patent leather with ankle straps and a red sole. They had a one-inch platform and red stitching and lacing going up the back of the heel. 'Now. What to wear?' April leaned into one hip in front of her closet. There were frilly things, lacy things, revealing things. Finally April decided on an easy access thing, a little black dress, low scalloped edge in the front, but very low cut and made of this very stretchy material that could easily be brushed aside. It hung loosely from an empire waist and was very short. It blew assertively in the wind, always revealing just enough. April chose a small black and red patent bow clip for the side of her hair to match her shoes. She put on red ultra-last lipstick. 'This stuff never comes off.' She dropped her essentials into her purse and was out the door.

  They went to the theater first and saw Troilus and Cressida. Milton brought April back to his apartment. There were a series of hallways once you entered the main door and finally they entered the main space. First one walked into the dining room. Further away from that, behind a set of metal stairs, was a r
ather cozy looking living room, with leather sofa and huge screen TV. To the right of that was the extensive kitchen with long woodblock counters and six burner Viking stove. The copper pots hung from the ceiling. There was a half eaten loaf of bread, a knife, and some butter on the island. Milton gestured April to help herself. April cut herself a piece of bread and buttered it. Milton offered her wine and she accepted. Milton made a contemporary looking meal of steak tartar and steamed garlic broccoli. For desert he served chocolate souffle. April nearly licked her plates as she sat at his bar, in his lion's den.

  Milton came around the bar and pulled April by her wrist. He pulled her towards the stairs, up to his bedroom, which had a cinder block wall, a king sized bed with a shimmery navy and black comforter, and two simple night stands. He kissed April again, grabbing both sides of her face and then pressing her head down lower. Milton unbuttoned and took off his shirt. April noticed a yin yang tattoo on his forearm. The same tattoo Sir had. Milton was Sir.

  Part 2

  After Milton kissed April, grabbing her cheeks with his enormous hands, massaging her face, massaging her scalp, he grabbed her hair at the top of her head and began pushing her down. April felt her knees bending and she was less passive this time, though she always obeyed the hands at the top of her head. When she passed his neck, she snapped out and licked it. The hands pushed her down further. When she passed his nipples she reached out and stroked them with her tongue. The hands stopped momentarily, then resumed. She passed his belly button and attempted to stick her tongue in.