Free use secretary 2: The phone call

Image by the brilliant Stuart F Taylor

Remember my free use secretary from about a month ago? How she got fucked in the middle of a job interview while doing a sterling job of pretending it was completely normal to get railed over your prospective boss’s desk while discussing salary expectations? Remember how we’ve talked about my kink for misogyny and the fact that it manifests in fantasies but should never be practiced in real life outside of a safe (and consensual) playspace? OK sweet. Well, she’s back. This is the next in the wank tales series. There are multiple free use secretary scenarios (catch the third, like wank-fantasy-Pokémon, if you support me on Patreon). This one’s called ‘the phone call’, and it features dubious consent (possibly coerced, maybe outright non-consent, I’ve tried to write in some consent cues but it’s borderline), plus other things that might be triggering to some people like choking, voyeurism and aggressively entitled posh bankers called Tarquin.

Free use secretary 2: the phone call

This one starts with a fairly standard fuck. Well, standard for this office, anyway. She’s bent over his desk, hands gripping the opposite edge so she can stay as still as possible (he prefers it when she doesn’t move at all), skirt yanked up around her waist and knickers pulled down just far enough to allow for entry. He’s fucking her with short, hard strokes in the cunt.

She stares straight ahead, not speaking or groaning with pleasure or doing anything else to acknowledge what he’s doing. He stares down at her cunt, watching the shaft of his cock slide wetly in and out, occasionally reaching forward to grab her hair and slam it in harder, or swatting firm smacks onto her bare arse with his palm, a look of bored curiosity on his entitled, misogynistic face. If you were dropped into this scene to observe it, at this exact moment, you would struggle to tell what their relationship was. They aren’t lovers – they’re clearly not in love. And she’s not getting off on this, either. He could be, perhaps. But his expression is frowning and serious. This isn’t a pleasurable fuck, it’s purely functional.

He’s fucking because he needs a fuck, and he’s chosen her because she’s available.

In reality, the reason she’s available is because this is part of her contract. In exchange for a marginally higher salary, she’s agreed to a ‘free use‘ arrangement: blow jobs to help long conference calls fly by, constant groping hands up her skirt and down her blouse.

She’s been in this job for a while now, and is no longer phased by what he does. The way he strides up to stand behind her while she’s typing up reports, then reaches down her top with firm hands, pinching her nipples with rough fingers and gripping his cock through his trousers. He doesn’t always make use of her cunt – sometimes it’s just this casual touching. These gropes and shuffles that are the background hum to her job, simultaneously mundane and also mortifying. Her attitude towards these touches is that she’ll put up with them for the paycheque. Tolerating them summons the same feelings as other little workplace humiliations, like when snitching colleagues copy the boss in on an email thread telling her off.

Last week her boss stood behind her giving notes on a presentation she was drafting. Drawling: “typo in that para – should be ‘practice’ with a ‘c’ not an ‘s’” as he pawed at her tits with one hand and beat at his dick with the other.

Today he just wanted a fuck. Pressed the intercom, ordered: “in here, over the desk. You can take your lunch break when I’m done.”

That’s why she’s here now, bent over and biting her lip and being ploughed with these methodical, functional strokes. She’s hoping he’ll come quickly so she can take a longer lunch, but it’s not looking likely.

Sometimes he comes really quickly: she can tell he’s been edging to porn on his phone in the bathroom, and when he strides back into the office with a rock-hard dick and an angry flush in his cheeks, she knows it’ll only take a minute or two before he dumps his cum inside her and tells her to get back to work.

But today he’s struggling.

He was hard when she came in, but he’s been in a bad mood all morning. And he’s been fucking her now for a good ten minutes – always the same brutal strokes – and he’s out of breath and tiring. The more frequently he smacks her arse, or yanks her hair or sometimes chokes her, the harder he’s trying to get there.

Just as she thinks he’s about to give up, the phone on his desk starts to ring. The volume of it startles both of them.

She expects him to pull out with a sigh of exasperated rage like he usually does. Wipe his dick on the hem of her skirt and order her back to her desk. But he doesn’t. Not this time. This time he keeps fucking as he picks up the phone.

“Yes?” he barks, through gritted teeth, before adopting a cheerier tone when he realises who it is. “Oh hello! Long time no see! New number? Yeah … Yeah.”

While he catches up with the person on the other end – she can hear enough to know that it’s Old Boy Network stuff – he continues to slide himself in and out of her cunt. The rapid, frantic strokes of before have slowed a little. Now he’s rutting with an air of detached boredom while he chats to Rupert or Harry or Tarquin from wherever he happens to be: a rival firm or a friendly one, whatever. They’re all the same. The in-and-out of his dick is edging rather than purposeful. He takes his time over each ‘pop’ as the head of his cock slides past the tight ring at the entrance.

Her cunt is being used to keep his dick hard, but he won’t try to come again until after he’s hung up.


As the conversation continues (boring chat about takeovers and asset yields and other inside gossip) he starts to play, half-bored, with one of her tits. Slipping her shirt down from shoulders to waist, and roughly turning her so she’s now awkwardly angled and easy to grope, he pinches one of her nipples in his free hand. It hurts but she endures it, twitching only slightly at the sudden pain. Speaking into the phone, he outlines some details of a recent project, all the while watching her face for a reaction as he digs his nails into the sensitive skin of her nipples, eventually pinching and twisting so hard she cries out.


He slaps her. Puts on a burst of energy, fucking a few brutal strokes in to show her who’s boss. At the end of the phone, his friend picks up on what’s happening, asks if he’s balls deep in some slut.

“Oh yeah,” he replies. He’s not ashamed. He explains in sordidly simplistic detail: “new girl. I’m breaking her in. I’d say you should try her out some time, but she’s not doing much for me today.” At that, another flurry of fucking – and audible grunts – before he asks: “mind if I put you on speaker? I could do with both hands.”

The answer must come back in the affirmative, because he presses a button on the phone and tosses the handset onto the desk, before reaching forward to grab her shoulders, leverage to better yank her roughly all the way down onto his cock.

She can hear his friend now, giving him instructions from afar. Suggestions like “if you choke her, her cunt will get tighter” and “see if you can make her squeal for me.” She obliges with a little squeak of pain: it really does hurt, after all, and being allowed to make noise gives her something to focus on rather than watching the clock.

The boss doesn’t like that, though: he slaps her arse again and tells her to ssssh. Explains to his friend, in the pauses between thrusts: “I find it… easier to come… if they shut… up…”

But he’s still not coming, and time’s getting on, so he’s amenable to his friend’s suggestions. “Slap her tits.”

“Take your belt to her.”

And eventually, inevitably: “Why not come in her ass?”

“Good idea,” her boss says between grunts. Reaching down to a nearby drawer where he keeps a stash of lube, he adds in a matter-of-fact tone “It’s been a while, that’ll do nicely.”

Pulling out and lubing up, he looks down at her body like he’s appraising it. On the other end of the phone, telltale moans and shuffling noises let her know that his colleague is joining in at a distance.

“Oh yeah,” the boss says, pressing the tip of his swollen cock against the entrance to her ass. “This’ll do it.”

And with that, no more foreplay: he shoves it in.

One long, firm, tight stroke all the way from tip to base. The thickness of his erection and the speed with which he switched from cunt to ass means she’s barely ready so he has to push it hard.

All the way in: one stroke. Accompanied by a moan of utter and complete satisfaction, as the tightness of her ass only just gives way to the unyielding rigidity of his dick.

Unngh,” he says aloud, for the benefit of his friend on the phone.

That’s it,” he crows as he buries himself balls deep.

One stroke to get it in, and just a few more more to tip him over the edge, peppered with grunting and groans so there’s no doubt he’s almost there.

She can feel the first shot of spunk thudding up the shaft as he gives in to one final moan and thoroughly empties himself inside her.

As he delivers one or two more thrusts, milking the last few drops of cum from his cock, she hears grunts from the other end of the phone too.

Then a cheery goodbye and a dial tone, as her boss pulls her skirt down, and sends her off for lunch.



Note: free use secretary is a fantasy, not a how-to manual for real life, and it is (I HOPE OBVIOUSLY) never a way to treat someone unless they’re fully into this kind of role-play and you’ve both discussed it in detail beforehand. I am extremely fond of my free use secretary, she’s been my pal on many a horny journey. If you’d like to read/hear a few more of her adventures, I’ve published part 3 (impressing the clients) as audio porn over on Patreon, and part 4 (the stationery cupboard) will go up there soon too. Or I might read it on the live hangout later this month. Join for £2/$2 per month or £22/$22-ish per year and you’ll instantly have access to all existing parts of this deliciously sordid little fuckplay.

If you don’t have the cash for Patreon (I understand, no shade – times are really tough), you might like these other ‘boss being an entitled dickhead’ fantasies: the conference call fuck or belts and blow jobs, both of which are available for free.


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