Other Destiny Stories:
Destiny’s Crush | Destiny the Guide | Destiny’s Language | Destiny and the Share-House | Destiny’s Friends
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After thirty years of societal degradation of the rights and position of women, the expectations of women in the workplace were a little different.
When young, pretty Destiny learned that she had been successful in the highly competitive process to be an unpaid intern at Goswell Solutions, she was delighted. And not just any intern – but specifically working as an assistant to one of the senior partners, the handsome Eric Brant.
She showed up for work on her first day in her prettiest outfit – a short skirt that emphasised her ass and brought to mind thoughts of her pretty, hairless pussy, and a tight white button-up shirt that hugged every curve of her tits.
She knew she had chosen her outfit well when the identical twin blondes in reception stopped playing with each other’s large plastic tits long enough to regard her with naked jealousy, worried that she would steal the male attention they craved.
That knowledge was reaffirmed in the elevator, travelling up to the floor where she would work, when a man stepped in on the second floor, and promptly bent her forward at the waist, without saying a word. Destiny grabbed the handrail in the elevator for support as the man casually took out his cock and plunged it into her cunt from behind. He fucked her in an idle, bored way, for seven floors – barely a dozen thrusts – without saying a word to her, before pushing her off him roughly as the elevator dinged his floor, tucking his cock back into his pants, and leaving without a backwards glance.
It delighted Destiny to be used so casually and roughly, knowing that the man had been able to please himself so easily, without having to expend effort or thought on her preferences or comfort or humanity. It was the aspiration of every young woman to be a particularly attractive item of sexy furniture – not just an object to be ejaculated into, but a particularly pleasing and useful object.
And her joy was accentuated when she finally arrived at Eric Brant’s office. He took a single look at her, stood up from her desk, and slapped her hard across the face.
A good slap was better than a wolf whistle or a demeaning name. It showed that a man cared literally nothing for your pleasure, and was comfortable hurting you on a whim, for his pleasure. And to know that Eric Brant not just felt at ease in slapping her, but actively wanted to do it, made Destiny’s heart skipped a beat. She had thought she might have to wait an hour for her new boss to acknowledge her – but instead she had his full attention immediately.
“Thank you, sir,” she said immediately – the only appropriate response to a face slap.
And then, to her amazement, Mr Brant went a step further, and grabbed the front of her shirt, and ripped it open, exposing her swelling teenaged tits.
She felt her cunt gushing with arousal at the implication that Mr Brant wanted to see her udders – that they might actually please him. She arched her back to thrust her tits forward, that they might appear bigger and more attractive to Mr Brant’s gaze.
“You’re the new intern cunt?” asked Mr Brant.
“Yes, sir,” breathed Destiny. She didn’t bother telling him her name. Women’s names weren’t important, and he hadn’t asked for it.
“Very good,” he said. “You’re going to be my cockwarmer. Do you know what that involves?”
She had to confess that she didn’t, although she liked the sound of it. Mr Brant slapped her again for her stupidity, and she thanked him for slapping her.
He didn’t so much explain as demonstrate. He took a pair of fur-lined cuffs, and secured her wrists behind her back. Then he took a pair of tight clamps, with heavy round weights hanging from them, and applied these to your nipples.
“Cockwarming duty doesn’t use much of your brain,” he told her, “and it sometimes leads cunts to be imaginative or have thoughts. The pain from these clamps will steadily increase during the day and you’ll soon find you’re quite exclusively focused on the pain in your tits. We’ll release them and let the blood flow resume four times during the day. You’ll be gagged with my cock when it happens. You’re welcome to scream around your mouthful of cock, but if I feel teeth for even a second there’ll be consequences.”
There certainly would be consequences. It was a crime punishable by imprisonment for a woman to cause the slightest pain to a man’s cock without his explicit permission in advance, no matter the circumstances.
Next Mr Brant fitted a leather collar around Destiny’s neck. He sat in his office chair, and took out his cock, and beckoned her over.
Destiny knelt obediently between his legs, and opened her mouth. Mr Brant guided her down on his cock, and Destiny moaned happily as she took the long, warm shaft into her mouth, and tasted his pre-cum.
Then Mr Brant clipped her collar to his belt. Destiny could now no longer pull her head far enough away from his waist to get his cock out of her mouth. She was trapped in the cocksucking position.
“You don’t need to actively stimulate me,” he told her. “In fact, that would be distracting. Just hold my cock in your mouth, swallow everything that comes out of it, and don’t make me think about you, or your comfort, or get in my way.”
Destiny found herself beaming with happiness around her mouthful of cock. She was experiencing what it was like to be an important woman in the modern workforce. It was a huge honour to be an accessory to the cock of such an important man. She knelt there, perfectly still, Mr Brant’s cock in her mouth, and tried to think arousing thoughts about being gang-raped, so that her pussy would stay wet, and the endorphins of arousal would counteract the rising sense of pain in her cruelly-clamped udders.
After about an hour, Mr Brant paused from answering emails to reach down, grab her hair, and urgently skullfuck her for ten minutes or so, at the end of which she felt her mouth flood with his hot, salty sperm.
She swallowed that gift like a good girl, and about a quarter of an hour later it was followed up by a chaser as Mr Brant casually relieved his bladder into her mouth. She swallowed that too. Mr Brant didn’t even look down at her or acknowledge she was there.
It was everything a girl could wish for, to be casually used as a masturbation aid and a toilet by a man who didn’t even know her name.
At around 11 am, Mr Brant reached down and took the clamps off her nipples. As he had warned her, she DID scream – the pain of having them removed was so much worse than the pain of having them on – but it only came out as incoherent muffled moans around his cock, and she was far too well-behaved a girl to allow her jaw to tighten on his cock or let him feel the slightest hint of her teeth.
He left them off for a full ten minutes, and even reached down to idly caress and massage her aching tits, before reapplying them.
Immediately afterwards, he got up to head to the break room to have his lunch, and this was where Destiny suddenly discovered the real skill needed to do her job well.
When he rose from his chair, it was without warning, and Destiny found herself yanked upwards by her collar, Mr Brant’s dick still firmly in her mouth. He pushed his chair back, and turned – twisting Destiny’s body – and began to walk. Destiny, unprepared, was dragged along by her collar. Mr Brant walked with his legs on either side of her head. He took no care for her comfort, and as a result Destiny found her head buffeted painfully by his thighs.
She struggled to get her legs under her, but Mr Brant was walking too quickly, and she was just dragged along, her beck between his legs and her body dragging along the carpet behind him. And all the time with his cock still in her mouth, as she struggled not to let him feel her teeth.
When he reached the breakroom, and stopped to take a sandwich from the refrigerator there, Destiny had time to get her knees back under her, and this time when Mr Brant moved again, heading back to her office, she was able to attempt a quick, shuffling knee walk to keep up with him, moving backwards as he moved forwards, the nipple weights swinging painfully beneath her udders with each movement.
She noted the envious glances cast at Mr Brant by his subordinates. Not every man could afford to have his cock in a woman’s mouth around the clock. Destiny was a status symbol – the kind of accessory that showed off Mr Brant’s wealth and influence. She blushed with pride, even as she desperately tried to keep up with Mr Brant’s movements.
Soon they were back at Mr Brant’s desk, where they resumed their previous positions. Mr Brant gave no indication whether he was pleased with Destiny’s performance – or even that he acknowledged her existence – and that was how it should be. He ate his sandwich, but of course there was no food for Destiny, other than the pre-cum leaking from the tip of Mr Brant’s cock.
And so the day went. He ejaculated into her mouth twice more, and pissed once. He took the clamps off her at scheduled times. Each time it was agony, but Destiny had been showing her initiative by thinking sluttier and sluttier thoughts all day, and by the time of her third clamp removal her cunt was so uncontrollably wet that the pain gave her a hands-free orgasm. Mr Brant *did* seem impressed by this – actually looking at her, and giving her a raised eyebrow – and Destiny blushed with embarrassed pride.
At the end of the day, Mr Brant unhooked her from his waist, and she was finally allowed to pull back from his cock. He pulled on her collar until she rose to her feet, and when she was standing in front of him, he slapped her twice across the face, and then three times across her large tits.
“You were acceptable,’ he told her – and that was the highest praise any girl could ever expect. Destiny practically swooned.
“Thank you, sir,” she gushed, unable to truly express her gratitude with words.
And with that, she was dismissed. The work day was over.
Being an intern didn’t pay any money, of course, and so Destiny would be sleeping in the slut cages in the building’s basement, along with all the other female employees who didn’t have specific male owners. She found herself sharing a cage with the twin bimbo receptionists – and she had been correct before in her estimation of their jealousy. It turns out that both sisters had applied to be Mr Brant’s cockwarmer, and both had been passed over in favour of Destiny.
They took out their frustration by raping her through the night, forcing her to lick their cunts and suck their breasts, even as they slapped and pinched at Destiny’s udders and clitoris. It made Destiny ashamed – not because there was anything wrong with being raped by other women, but only because Mr Brant wasn’t there to see it and be entertained by it.
Tomorrow was another day, though, and Destiny looked forward to continuing her exciting new career in the female workforce.
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Does the discomfort of fucking an unlubricated pussy count as “the slightest pain”?
Probably! But Destiny is a good slut and she gets wet quickly at the slightest male interest…