Corporate Enslavement

by Steven Drukker

  “All right, get her up there so we can begin.”

  They got her up there and began. For over an hour and a half they raped Meredith in her mouth. When the board members were through with her, they gave the security men a go at her. Semen inundated her palate and tongue, she felt like retching from all they had made her swallow by merely tilting her head back and letting it run down her throat. What she hadn’t been made to swallow covered her chin, stranding onto the rug under her knees. Her total humiliation at the office complete, they had her bound for transport to the company training facilities for women.

  While watching the beauty of the Southern Coast slip by and her freedom with it, Meredith cringed in grim anticipation of what would become of her once the bus stopped. She hoped it would never stop, given what she had been put through earlier. She had been given a preliminary exercise in her forthcoming indentured service to the corporation. She was to be a sex slave for the management whom she had formerly worked with. They had told her this. While forcing their penises in her open mouth, they had each outlined the duties she would perform while at the training and service facility where she was to be delivered in stringent bondage. As they spurted their semen over her protesting tongue, spewing the foretaste of her fate into the back of her mouth from their rigid penises, she felt the salty warmth of her future slide down her throat as she gurgled helplessly with her head held back until she choked down what was given. Another hand in her hair and another penis growing turgid and long in her mouth was her reward for having successfully coaxed ejaculate to spurt in her mouth with lips and tongue. She had to do it nearly twenty times before they were through with her. The way they had placed her on her knees with her feet raised and strapped on either side of the pole, forcing the pole hard between her buttocks, making her lean forward without the possibility of moving back would have made her fall on her face but for the way they bound her arms. They had pulled her manacled wrists up level with her head and tied the short connecting chain between the steel cuffs to the looped rope on the post. Meredith angled forward supported only by her bent knees with her arms raised straight out behind her wrenching her shoulders back making her look like an ornate open-mouthed bonnet figure on a vintage marque of motor car. That she couldn’t shift her position and all she could move was her head was precisely how they wanted her for the ignominious ritual of her dismissal. By holding her hair, one had actually brushed her hair back and held her by the ears, they worked her head back and forth like a puppet forcing her to fellate them until she felt the warm rush of their salty ejaculate at the back of her mouth. Her relegation ritual completed, she was released to be stripped entirely naked but for her shoes and, when bound, paraded through the halls and down to the private drive where she and Darlene were prodded aboard the red bus. She wondered if Darlene had suffered the same or similar humiliation as she had. She couldn’t tell by looking at her. She certainly hoped Darlene couldn’t see the evidence of what she had been forced to do. She hissed around her gag, sucking the saliva now covering the bright red surface of the ball. Some dribbled down her chin, feeling like the semen that had spilled from her lips earlier. She could still taste it although her saliva diluted it and only a faint trace of its pungent bouquet remained. Meredith moved her head back and forth as if to deny she had so much of their semen in her belly. She felt nauseated. It was to be a sensation she would have frequently in her bleak future. She would get used to it.

  The change in attitude was palpable when the red bus stopped. The men aboard walked forward from where they had been sitting. The women craned their necks to see where they were and grew restive while the men relieved their legs of the tight strapping. In pairs, they were released from their seats and urged to the narrow stairs. Unsteady on their legs, they had to be helped down and then off the bus. Darlene and Meredith were last and when they stepped off onto a gravelled drive, they joined the other girls at the end of their queue. Meredith knew most of the others; they had worked for her in one way or another over the years; all were her juniors in both years and position at the firm. As if to add to her humiliation, making her acutely aware of her ignominious demotion, Meredith was forced to pass in review so to speak as she was paraded down the line. She couldn’t bear to look at them, but they watched her with mixed feelings. Some, seeing a top executive bound and gagged, naked and as helpless as they, knew it didn’t forebode well for them while others savoured her comeuppance with unabashed interest in spite of their own identical circumstances. Drooling around her gag, breasts thrust forward in embarrassing exhibition, bedevilled by the cutting strap between her legs, Meredith waked the gamut of her shame and degradation trying desperately to keep from crying in front of those she considered, until now, her inferiors. Despite her efforts, the emotional agony of being displayed in public naked and humiliated caused tears to course down her pale cheeks while all watched. She was grateful when she was chivvied into line with the others in penultimate place; Darlene stood at the end of their rank. She tried to shrink in anonymity; to disappear by staring at the neo-classic façade of the company’s training annex looming portentously before her.

  “Now you lot listen up.”

  A brawny black man, looking like a caricature of an image on a bottle of cleaning agent, strode before their cowed rank. He had no neck and his biceps were as big as most men’s thighs. His shiny bald pate glistened above broad handsome features and squinting malevolent eyes. In a basso-profundo rumble, he spoke to the women.

  “I am Jonathan. I am the discipline and punishment master here. I am the worst thing that can happen to you here at the training and service annex. Like the name, you will be trained for service. Should you for any reason be found wanting or disobedient while in either training or service you will be brought before me. You don’t want that to happen. I will hurt you and place you in punishment restraints that will make what you are wearing seem like leisure wear. You will adhere to my discipline and my orders immediately and without question. If you don’t, you will be the sorriest women on the planet.”

  The sheer size and demeanour of the man was intimidating. Coupled with the half-dozen uniformed men arranged in a semicircle behind him, each clenching three-foot long dog whips, the women took everything he said quite seriously. When he gave them his first order they moved hastily to obey. They were convinced they didn’t want to feel his wrath and they certainly didn’t want to feel those wicked looking whips on their bare flesh. So, on his order to turn and face the bus, all fourteen of the nude, bound and gagged women turned and faced the bus. Meredith felt peculiarly self-conscious as she turned with the rest of the women. None of them had ever seen her follow an order - she gave orders. Now as she turned to face the bus along with the others, extravagantly thrusting her sumptuous breasts forward toward its bright red exterior, she felt as if all eyes were on her and she were the only one bound helpless and naked before the other office girls as well as the unknown foreign men who commanded her. The shiny surface reflected their nude helplessness. By casting her eyes down, Meredith could see her reflection with Darlene on one side and one of the office girls she didn’t know on the other. The rest of the line was adumbrated in vague red repetition to her left. The sameness of their strained posture and bound helplessness didn’t detract from Meredith’s individual sense of shame. In some ways, it was a relief not to have to stand utterly naked and helpless facing those cruel looking men. The grinding embarrassment and crushing indignity of holding her breasts out in flagrant display; her uncontrollable drooling undisguised by the enforced upward tilt of her tear streaked face by her high stiff collar and the stringently tight straps drawn across her pale cheeks, buckled and locked at the back of her neck, silencing and forcing her to hold the bright saliva shiny ball, not only in her wide open mouth, but in a showy presentation of her helplessness between her dilated lips clasping the rubber sphere as if to show them her thoroughly gagged state of degradation while completely preventing her from objecting to her condition:
all this she now saw reflected in the shining red mirror of the bus that had brought her and the others to stand and act as they were ordered by cruel masters of their dismal destiny. Meredith felt lonely in her abject misery. The enormity of her disastrous fall from grace made inordinate by her formerly high position seemed all the more insufferable as she stared at her lewdly displayed reflection on the side of the bus. Her helplessly bound exhibitionism; inescapable physically, was as staggeringly wretched emotionally whether she displayed it to herself or to others. Turning her back to the men simply displayed other aspects of her physical and emotional restraints. Her mere obedience to the order to turn and face the vehicle that had brought her to this place and time portrayed her newly acquired servility. Her tightly strapped elbows and bared buttocks, cleft so deep and hard by the strap between her legs, now offered the men standing behind her another view of her nude and stringently bound body held in the obscene physical pose that matched her emotional restraint utterly cowed by the man who called himself Jonathan-her discipline and punishment master.

  Darlene, Meredith and the whole of their line reluctantly acknowledged Jonathan’s dominion over them by arranging themselves in further helplessness at his next command.

  “Step right up to the side of the bus, ladies. Stand with your chins and breasts pressed right into it.”

  He watched as they moved forward, savouring the agony caused by their tightly drawn quim straps even by the scant three or four steps they had to take to press their breasts and elevated chins to the smooth red surface. When they were all properly situated, Jonathan order them to move their feet back while still leaning into the side of the bus. Awkwardly, they did so. At a certain point, at a certain distance they overbalanced and, without the use of their arms and hands, couldn’t possibly bring themselves upright again without help. They leaned into the warm red surface, squashing their breasts out to the sides, staring in unfocused distress at the flat red metal wall supporting them with their legs angled well out from the vertical. Walking behind their line, four of the uniformed men working in pairs stepped behind each of them and, hooking their feet inside their ankles, forced their legs apart and farther back by simply dragging their ankles back and to the sides. Meredith gurgled behind her gag as she felt her chin and breasts slide down the side of the bus as her legs were spread open. They made the angle between her leaning body and the vertical side of the bus acute and thereby rendered her inescapably pinioned to the side of the bus by her own weight. She couldn’t bring her legs together without toppling over and she couldn’t raise herself without the use of her arms. The position exhibited the dark slash of leather rending their vulvas and the variety of genitalia from hirsute plump gashes to downy slits of moist flesh, exuded in pink inflorescence on either side of the tautly drawn leather between them. Meredith hadn’t been able to imagine what she must have looked like in her strained posture from the front until she saw her reflection on the bus. But now, with her legs forked wide she could actually feel the bulge of her vulva open and exposed, split by the strap drawn between her legs. Shivering in revulsion she again felt degradation lapping at her in waves of exquisite humiliation. She felt like an obscene mannequin being used to display female genitalia for the morbid curiosity of strangers. From the time she had stepped into the boardroom, everything that had happened had incrementally increased her shame and embarrassment while diminishing her authority and power, not only in her own estimation, but in the terribly demeaning presence of women she had little in common with. It was so unfair, she thought. Straining against the tight strapping and the outrageous pose she had assumed upon the order of a black man she now knew as her master, Meredith clenched her buttocks and stiffened her legs when she sensed his presence behind her. She could do nothing to hide her shame or her leather-riven sex. It crushed her. She so wanted to move, to assume a modest posture, to be properly dressed. Perhaps if she could just speak to him he would understand her situation and if not let her go, at least let her plead her case before him or his supervisor. Meredith dithered about the protocols and wondered about the chain of command at the facility. In remarkable self-delusion she thought about how important she was to the company in her former capacity. Surely, they would see that if she could just explain. She didn’t belong here with the rest of these young women. It was too …Her mental rationales were interrupted rudely by a huge hand nearly covering her tautly strained bare bottom. Meredith started, raising on her toes in shock that someone beneath her station would touch her so familiarly, conveniently forgetting she had performed fellatio on six security guards earlier.

  “Keep your position, slag, or I’ll lay into your fat bum with the whip.”

  Meredith’s fantasies evaporated with a wet gurgle around her gag. She stood still but trembling while her soi-disant master stroked her bottom cheeks, hefting and fondling them like so much horseflesh, while she helplessly presented herself to him with her back arched as if to offer them to his touch. With her knees locked and legs spread wide, leaning against the bus as she was, the tension of her posture jutted and distended her tightly clenched bottom and kept her full thighs taut and her well muscled calves hard and bulging. It also spread her vulva. She groaned when his fingers moved through her pubic hair along her labia, feeling the compression of her swollen lips caused by the tight strap drawn between them.

  “Take another notch in that. She’s got too much slack.”

  While he moved on, one of the men pulled her crotch strap up another notch, causing a saliva laden shriek of anguish to burble around the red ball strapped in her mouth. Meredith knew she was being singled out. None of the other girls, although they were rudely handled in much the same way she had been, suffered the cutting agony between their legs she did. She could feel her swollen lips protuberant and bulging on either side of the strap nearly cutting her in two. It simply increased her shame and humiliation along with the flagrant display of her sex and powerlessness. Meredith’s world was red; the ball in her mouth, the side of the bus, and the sharp red torture of the strap that hurt so. Watery self-pity smeared her cheeks and chin with tears and slaver. Then she heard the distinctive clink and rattle of chains.

  Until she felt a cold steel shackle around one of her ankles, Meredith didn’t know what they were doing. The unyielding rigid steel compressed her ankle and she heard the distinct sound of its lock clicking closed. When her shackled ankle was yanked inward to accommodate the short length of the chain, she nearly tumbled over, but managed to stay upright by pressing her torso, crushing her breasts, hard into the side of the bus. Then she felt the constriction of her other ankle in a heavy steel circlet, another loud click and Meredith wore her first pair of leg-irons.

  ‘My God,’ she whimpered to herself, ‘does it never end?’

  The sheer weight of the medievally heavy shackles and their massive chain were frightening. The way they clasped her ankles in steely clawed desperation locked in unremovable hindrance, not only locked Meredith in the steel embrace of leg-irons, but also further reduced her to the status of a prisoner. She sank another notch down in the physical and emotional grip of torture and captivity. Her mind couldn’t bear it. They were disembowelling her with the limitlessness of their control. The physical pain and restraint, unbearable as it was, paled next to the emotional rape of her dignity and status. They were making a slave out of her.

  The next thing that happened was to show how correct she had been in her assessment of what she was becoming.

  The abrupt cruel wrenching of her head and shoulders as she was jerked up from the side of the bus by her hair and the strap around her arms was as frightening as it was painful because now she stood in her place in line wearing leg-irons as well as the rest of her bondage. Brought in line one behind the other Meredith could only see the tightly cinched elbows and the crown of the girl in front of her since both their heads were raised by their collars. She tried, by casting her eyes down, to see the configuration of what it was that weighed so heavily a
round her ankles. They must be huge, she thought, feeling the cumbersome leaden weight forged securely around each of her slim ankles. She couldn’t see them, but she felt them. Even the chain between seemed heavy despite its shortness. She had briefly felt its movement between her ankles when she had been yanked to her feet and made to turn and queue up.