If you’re familiar with the free use secretary stories that I wrote earlier this year, you’ll know what these erotic fiction pieces involve by now: a secretary who has ‘free use‘ (the ability for the boss to fuck her as and when he wants) written into her employment contract. So far in the series, my lovely free use secretary has been interviewed, fucked over a desk while her boss is on the phone to someone else, and then used as a fucktoy to impress visiting clients. In this instalment, she’s cornered in the stationery cupboard by two members of junior management, who decide they want a turn too. If you’d prefer to hear me read it into your headphones, support me on Patreon for access (but don’t worry if you can’t afford to – it’ll go up for free here eventually anyway). Note that as with all the stories in the wank tales series, they’re fantasy, not a way to behave in real life. I enjoy these scenarios in my head, because I have a kink for misogyny. But this one – like the others – involves implied non-consent/coercion, brutality, misogyny, and women being used like we’re merely holes: a fun space to play in theory, but never a way to treat people in the real world.
The stationery cupboard is long and narrow, with floor to ceiling shelves. There are no windows, so it’s dark in there unless you turn on the light. The photocopier sits right at the end, blinking LEDs in the otherwise-gloomy space. There’s never a need for more than one person to be in there at a time, so the space between the shelves is narrow. If you’re in there and someone blocks the doorway, you can’t get out without brushing past them on the way.
She pops in to the cupboard, leaving the door ajar so she doesn’t have to bother turning the light on. She knows what she’s looking for, it’s right at the end, and the glow from the corridor outside is enough to show her where the paper is. Grabbing a couple of stacks of it and clutching them to her chest, she turns to leave.
That’s when they enter. Two junior guys, suited and full of swagger. They’re like mini versions of her boss: the one with whom she has the ‘free use’ arrangement. It’s accepted now that he’ll lend her out to others, but he’s not yet leant her to them. In the back of her mind somewhere there’s a vague understanding that he probably will one day. If they have good enough numbers come bonus time, their reward might consist of more than just a big fat cheque.
In short: she knows she’ll get fucked by them eventually. She’s OK with that. But as far as she knows, the boss has not yet offered her, so when the first guy steps forward she’s unsure how to behave. Should she resist? Comply? Without the boss’s say-so there’s really no way of knowing.
The second man blocks the doorway behind the first, and they both leer. They fancy themselves as menacing. Aggressive. Picture her as a frightened rabbit or doe-eyed virgin.
“Look who it is,” the first one says, taking another step so his face looms over hers. She can smell the boozy two-hour lunch break on his breath, but says nothing. Just looks down and clutches the reams of paper to her chest.
“I hear you like to get fucked, is that right?” he asks. She doesn’t answer. These two clearly don’t understand the key rule: you don’t talk about the fucking. You’re not meant to acknowledge it. You do or are done to, you do not discuss.
With one rough hand he tugs the reams of paper down, exposing the way her taut nipples tent the fabric of her blouse. With the other hand he pinches one. Lets out a satisfied grunt.
“You know you’re about to get fucked, don’t you?”
She does know it will happen eventually. But right here and now in the stationery cupboard… everything feels seedy and wrong. Like she’s going behind the boss’s back. If she lets them fuck her here and now she might just be in trouble.
The second man steps fully into the cupboard now, and closes the door behind him to cloak them in darkness. Not pitch dark – there’s enough reflected light from under the doorway, and from various LEDs – but dark like both the men know exactly what she’s thinking: this isn’t sanctioned. It’s not allowed. There’ll be trouble for somebody somewhere. But they’ve weighed the risks and decided that ‘somebody’ will probably be her. And the rewards are worth it: they want to test out what they’ve heard about the free use secretary.
“Don’t you want to get fucked?” the first man says again, raising his voice to try and prompt an answer. It’s like he’s goading her to tell him ‘no’, to struggle or resist, so she gives him a little of what he wants. Tries to pull away.
In response, he grabs her shoulders and spins her around so she’s facing the copier. She can feel his erection pressing insistently against her arse. She clings a little too tightly to the paper, so he yanks it away and she lets her arms fall down by her sides: instinctively slipping into compliance. He makes appreciative noises as he starts to grope her. Tugging her blouse out from where it’s tucked into her skirt, and worming his hands up so he can paw at her naked tits.
“See?” he crows as he pinches both her nipples tightly, “you do want to get fucked.”
She says nothing. His colleague steps a little closer to observe. Maybe unzips his flies and starts to massage the blood into his own cock. Casually, the way he would if he were sitting in the work toilets idly gazing at porn on his phone, debating whether or not to beat one out. Meanwhile, the first guy, growing bored of simply groping, grabs the hem of her skirt and yanks it up so it’s bunched around her waist. He grunts in appreciation when he notes that she’s wearing no knickers. Tells his colleague as much, then adds “and she’s so fucking wet” as he pokes at her slit with busy fingertips.
Our secretary stares blankly at the wall above the photocopier. Shifts only slightly to assume a more comfortable position. Palms down flat on the top of the copier, back arched slightly to allow him easier access. This stuff is habitual by now, it’s not deliberate. She gives in to him the way she’d give in to his boss: this is her job and she’s good at it.
He rips her shirt off completely. The second man comments appreciatively on her tits. Tells the first he wants a turn sucking those nipples. The men talk back and forth about her, no longer trying to goad her into speech – just rating and appraising her like she can’t hear what they’re saying.
The stationery cupboard echoes now with the sound of both men rubbing harder at their cocks. The one directly behind her has the head of his dick pressed up against the crack of her arse, and at the top of each stroke as he wanks, he smacks into the flesh of her bum. Grunting as he builds to a climax, she wonders if he’s going to fuck her or if he’ll just come like this: shooting ropes of spunk all over her naked bottom, then pulling her skirt down and sending her back to her desk.
“You gonna fuck her?” his colleague asks.
To answer, the first man – the one whose dick is oh-so-nearly inside – grabs her by the back of the neck and shoves her down so she’s fully bent over the copier. His cock pulses and throbs at the thought that he’ll get to do what he’s been dreaming about ever since he heard of the ‘free use’ arrangement. He’d love to savour this moment, but the second guy’s right there, reminding him that he wants a turn too, and the clock is ticking.
“God, I’m desperate,” he says. “Hurry up – I need to dump this load inside her soon.”
That’s enough to get the first guy going – he holds her by the neck, pressing her naked tits onto the cool plastic of the photocopier, keeping her steady as he slides his dick inside. Revelling in the warm, wet clench of her cunt down his shaft as he stretches her open. Releasing a sigh of gratification that’s mostly a performance – showing off to his friend that he’s in. He fucked her first.
That first stroke quickly turns into a flurry of deep thrusts as he takes what he wants. She tries to keep from making any noise herself, thinking only of how long she’s been away from her desk. Will the boss notice? She’s not sure.
Firm, rhythmic strokes have the first guy grunting more eagerly behind her now. If it weren’t for the bunched-up skirt at her hips she’d be bruising where the edge of the copier jams into her flesh. He’s fucking her good and hard now, eager to come.
But he doesn’t want to come inside her. By the faint light of the LEDs in the dimness of the stationery cupboard, this guy really wants to watch his own dick spit spunk onto her skin. Maybe he’s married to someone who won’t let him do that. Perhaps it’s been too long since he had a woman at all. Whatever: he’s got an idea in his head and he needs to see it through. Doesn’t have any other choice, really – as soon as he knows what he wants, he’s convinced himself that he cannot come without doing it. He pulls his cock out and presses the tip of it right against her arse, and moans ‘fuuuuck’ as the first squirts pump out and gush against her skin. The second guy, just behind him, beats harder at his dick, craning his neck so he can get a good view of the first man as he splatters her.
Then the door opens.
Someone clears their throat. She recognises the sound instantly – it’s her boss – and goes limp. The man who’s just used her and the one waiting his turn both jump like startled rabbits, and look around to see how much trouble they’re in.
“What’s going on here?” the boss drawls casually.
“We’re just… umm…” a long pause while they all take in the scene. Her, bent over the copier, blouse torn off and tits out and skirt hiked up to her waist, dripping in the cum from the first guy’s urgent fucking. The second guy frantically trying – and struggling – to stuff his rock-hard cock back into his pants.
“Looks to me,” says the boss, gripping his crotch where his dick is already twitching semi-hard, “like you’re in the middle of something here. Please don’t let me interrupt, I was just looking for ___.”
He calls her by name. He so rarely does that. Usually she’s just ‘you’ or ‘her.’ Sometimes he summons her with a snap of his fingers, but rarely does he call her by her name. It comes as such a surprise she almost stands up and turns round. But the next words out of his mouth are “no no, don’t get up – I just need a run-down on that project.”
Looking at the second junior colleague, the one who hasn’t come yet, the boss waves him forward with a brisk sweep of his hand. It’s getting crowded in the stationery cupboard now, so he dismisses the first man by opening the door and gesturing ‘out.’ Tucking himself back into his pants, the first guy doesn’t need to be told twice. He squeezes past the other two and slips out of the door, closing it softly behind him.
“A run down please,” the boss says. And the second guy doesn’t think too hard about his luck, just grabs it where he can. So while the free use secretary begins a cheerful overview of what’s happening on the project – updates on who’s sent what and what’s still being worked on – the second guy pulls his pants down just far enough to expose his marble-hard cock and swollen balls, and slides inside her cunt.
“We’ve heard back from their legal team,” she tells the boss, stumbling slightly over the words as she’s vigorously fucked. Her breath hitches in time to the deepest moment of each in-stroke, which satisfies both men. Her boss is slowly stroking his own dick as he watches her get fucked. Expensive wristwatch clicking against the zip of his fly as he beats at his cock. It’s narrow in the stationery cupboard, and it’s dark, so he can only just see the faint outline of the guy who is urgently thrusting into her. Stepping to one side and leaning against the shelves, he can make out a tiny bit more: the outline of her tits jiggling as she’s fucked. Her hair in a ponytail swinging with each thrust. But for him, the talking is the main event. She continues to babble about the project, updating him on the report she received this morning – a summary of which is on his desk – and from the quavering note in her voice he can tell that his colleague’s dick is rigid and punishing. He can hear the slap of flesh on flesh – louder and wetter for the fact that she’s already covered in ropes of fresh spunk from the man before. The boss registers each grunt as the junior guy slams it home, and if he had more empathy he’d marvel at the fact that his free use secretary was managing to remain so calm and focused.
The rhythm builds, and as it does she lets out the occasional squeak. The copier rattles as she’s fucked so smartly against it, and she grips the plastic cover on the other side to try and keep her balance as the speed of the fuck increases. The second junior colleague can’t believe his luck to get away with this – no trouble, just encouragement – he grits his teeth and slams it in harder. But being watched by senior management is making it tricky to come. He’s rock solid and desperate and he can feel the ache in his balls, which urgently need to be emptied. The panting, rhythmic way she’s still talking gets him closer, but he’s worried that when she’s done with her update he might be dismissed – frustrated and unspent – to go and beat a lonely one out in the bathroom to ease the pressure.
Fucking now with an urgency that’s almost become rage, he slams it in so hard she has to bite her lip. Loses her place in the update. Swallows down a frustrated sigh and starts again.
The boss, meanwhile, is watching. Gripping his own dick so tightly that he’s close to the edge of coming. He wants the first guy done so he can dump his own load. Tugging at himself with a casual fist, he tells the junior guy:
“Why not try her ass?”
That’s it, that’s enough. The very thought of it – being given permission – the offer itself is enough to tip him over the edge so he lets out an unnngh of release. Cock twitching, spunk pouring into her, his thighs shake as he milks the final few waves of his orgasm out, pumping thick shots of cum deep inside.
When he’s done, he steps aside. The boss pushes forward swiftly, brushing against him and placing his hand on the small of the secretary’s back. Spitting on the taut head of his own dick, he tells her “continue,” then presses it against the tight ring of her ass.
As she lays out the plan for the next stage of the project, he stuffs it all the way in. Fucks with short, brutal, firm strokes which you can hear in her breath while she chatters. And then comes inside her with such force and volume that she briefly forgets the point she is making – the sensation of cum thudding through the shaft of his cock, pulsing inside her, it’s almost enough to knock her off course. But she’s a professional, and she’s used to this.
As he dumps the final portion of cum nice and deep, she tells him they’ve got a conference call at 4 pm. She’s booked a meeting room.
He pulls out, smacks her jizz-filmed bottom with a satisfying thwack, and tells her to clean herself up before dialling him in.
If you liked this, check out the other stories in this series – part 1 (the interview), part 2 (the phone call) and part 3 (impressing the clients) or the wank tales tag for more kinkified misogyny and other things I masturbate over.