Frank's Apology
CW: brainwashing, corruption, maledom, femsub, degradation, confusion
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"Can you believe it, Mira," huffed Lynda. " All they made him do,was write some apology!"
Her blonde friend, who was a couple of years older than Lynda, looked over to her and asked what she was talking about. "The guy who groped you?" she inquired, sounding worried and outraged on Lynda's behalf.
"Exactly, Frank from IT!" the brunette exclaimed. "HR just made him write a mail!" Loudly she inhaled through her nose. "A mail! The guy literally goes on some kind of perverse touch every woman at work spree — and he has to write an apology," she said in disbelief and with her voice rising. She had her fists balled up and felt a tingling in her legs as she stomped up and down.
Mira sighed, and then she took her glasses off. "Yeah, that is just messed up. I wish they'd take things more seriously," Mira responded, trying to console Lynda.
"I don't even want to read his fucking apology," Lynda said angrily.
"Well, Clara just sent a message, praising it," Mira replied.
Lynda snorted, saying: "She was his first victim. I wonder what bullshit she is talking about," Lynda replied angrily as she clicked the mail open.
A flicker ran over her screen. She had to blink. Then her eyes tracked the words.
'Subject: A Sincere Apology and Heartfelt Regret'
Lynda scoffed. She already knew what would follow: some generic statement about inappropriate touching. She felt the rage welling up within her.
'Dear Lynda,
I hope this message finds you well and at ease.'
Again the screen shimmered. Lynda slowly exhaled. The tension in her shoulders drained away. Her fists loosened as her mind focused on reading the text.
'I understand that my actions have caused you significant distress, and for that, I offer my sincerest apologies. Please know that I never intended to cause harm, and I take full responsibility for any discomfort that my behavior may have caused.'
Lynda read those lines, the letters danced in front of her eyes. Her nipples stiffened.
Her legs moved together. A soft sensation ran through her. She swallowed, feeling her mouth getting a bit dry.
'I would like to express my heartfelt remorse for my actions. The fact that I violated your trust and made you feel unsafe is deeply troubling to me,' she continued reading, and her mind became fuzzy. The drum of her heart slowed down. Lynda's eyes became fixed, locked to the screen, scanning the text.
'Please know that I will take all necessary measures to ensure that this kind of incident does not happen again in the future,' her mind took in the meaning, the intention, the honesty of Frank.
'For that reason I have added a special gift to this apology. Please accept my apologies, Lynda. It was never my intent to hurt or upset you,' the words seeped into her mind, her thoughts.
Her eyes were fixed, her mind empty. The only thing Lynda noticed were the words in front of her.
'So I ask for forgiveness, Lynda. And I promise, I will never hurt or upset you again. Best regards, Frank.' Her eyes flicked up, then down. Lynda's breathing deepened and a soft moan escaped her mouth.
"What is up, Lynda," Mira asked.
Lynda blinked and looked over to her colleague.
"Oh, just read that letter by Frank," she answered with a smile. "Clara was right. It's a great apology. He seems sincere in regretting his actions."
Mira looked at Lynda with a raised eyebrow. "Wow. Now I am curious about it. Maybe I should read it too," the blonde mused.
"Sure," Lynda replied, "I am certain it would help to get closure from this."
Mira gave a thoughtful nod and went back to work, as did Lynda.
The brunette's heart fluttered in her chest. She had been so mad at Frank before. Which in retrospect was rediculous. He could never upset her. Lynda was sure she should talk to the head of HR, and ask if they could drop the case. There was just no way she could be mad at him anymore.
Her fingers typed the message on their own. Lynda felt the tingling sensation between her legs. It had started while she read that letter and still hadn't stopped.
Her panties clung to her sex, moist from her fluids.
Lynda's breasts pushed hard against the confines of her bra. She felt the tension of her nipples, the sensitive nubs brushing over the fabric of the cups with every breath.
"Wow," Mira's voice tore Lynda from her thoughts.
"Yeah, wow indeed," she replied with a giggle. Mira had been reading the letter for the past couple of minutes.
"Did he write a different apology to every woman?" the blonde wondered.
Lynda blinked, looking at her friend. Her mind had been fuzzy with thoughts about Frank, but that question got her attention. "I don't know. Want to check?" she asked and got a nod.
Mira's eyes were unfocused as she wrote to their other friends. She asked them to forward her their apologies. Then the blonde sat still, just like Lynda. Both women stared vacantly into the distance. Only the movements of their chests indicated that both women were still breathing.
Then a cacophony of beeping sounds erupted as one after the other replied.
The sound snapped Lynda out of her trance. She grabbed the first message and read it. Then the next and next.
"Wow, I didn't know Frank had it in him to write such heartfelt and personal messages to all of us," Lynda mused as her eyes devoured the words. Her breathing became heavier, her skin hot, and the tingling in her sex became stronger with each word.
Mira moaned an answer. Her legs rubbed against each other as she too opened her messages, one by one. "You can feel his sincerity in every word. Frank would never hurt us." Her voice sounded distant.
"No, no," replied Lynda with a smile. Her eyes scanned over a passage of Clara's letter, where Frank wrote that her breasts had felt great in his hands, and how much he regretted his actions. "He never hurts us," Lynda answered with a sigh.
Both women sat there, panting and reading. Lynda had already forgotten the time, only the letters in front of her eyes existed. It was as if the words spoke directly to her soul, caressing her mind. They were filled with such honest sorrow and pain, that her body quivered from them. She felt a rush of endorphins drown her mind.
Frank was such a great man.
Her breathing deepened, her heart beat fast.
And her panties got drenched.
Lynda gasped for air. The words were so good. She could feel the meaning of the text on her skin, as if he was whispering them directly in her ears.
Frank was such a wonderful person.
A loud ping announced the arrival of a new message.
The sound made both Lynda's and Mira's heads snap to attention. Their eyes focused, pupils dilating. Lynda's tongue shot out between her lips, licking them, moistening them.
It was from HR. Lynda opened it, reading it out aloud. "To everyone. The situation with Frank has been resolved. He has agreed to accept everyone's heartfelt apologies for the misunderstanding." A wave of happiness washed over the brunette's mind. Her eyes became fixed on the screen again. The text changed, letters blurred into new words. "In addition to that we would like to invite all the concerned women to a meeting. As we all agree, there was a big misunderstanding, and we would like to ensure that nothing like that will ever happen again." The last part of the message flickered and shifted.
Lynda read it out, her eyes wide: "This is a mandatory meeting. It is part of your job."
She inhaled deeply. A shiver of anticipation ran over her skin. The tingling sensation between her legs intensified.
Mira moaned at those words.
Lynda licked her lips.
"We have to get ready," she whispered, her eyes unfocused. Mira nodded. Then both of them stood up.
Lynda walked through the cubicles with her colleague by her side, their heels clicking loudly against the floor as they walked. The two of them were already a few steps away, but Lynda couldn't take her mind off Frank.
Her mind replayed his unnecessary apology, over and over again, in a loop. The sincerity, the way his words touched her heart. It had been a misunderstanding. Frank would never hurt them. She just knew that. A warm, fuzzy sensation filled her body. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Her nipples rubbed against the cups of her bra, a delicious tingle emanating from the stiff peaks of her breasts.
Lynda and Mira moved through the office in haste. It had become apparent to both of them that they had to get changed for their meeting with Frank. Their current clothes, the professional and tasteful blouse and long skirt that both women wore, would be inadequate for the upcoming meeting.
Lynda felt her legs moving faster, the tingling sensation between them increasing, her sex rubbing against the wet fabric of her panties.
A wave of pleasure shot through her body.
Her mind conjured the memory of Frank, and she thought of the man's tall frame, his dark, almost black hair, and those piercing green eyes. And the way his hand respectfully dug into her bottom. Lynda's cheeks flushed as she remembered his hand groping her. Her mind played the memory of him squeezing and pinching the firm, soft, round globes of her ass over and over.
As Lynda reached the locker room, her nipples were stiff, straining against the confines of her bra. The tingling sensation in her sex became a dull throbbing, aching for more stimulation.
In front waited Clara from HR. She wore the perfect set for the meeting.
The other brunette had her hair done in a neat bun, with not a single strand of hair out of place. Her face had been perfectly made up, with her lipstick glistening red on her lips, her lashes long and dark, and her eyelids shimmering with light green eye shadow.
Clara had exchanged her business attire with a tight black latex corset that pushed her heavy bosom upward, revealing her cleavage to everyone. The corset hugged her waist, emphasizing it in an exaggerated way, and making it look impossibly slim in contrast to her large breasts. She wore a pair of black fishnets and a garter belt that hugged her full hips, accentuating the curve of her voluptuous buttocks. On her feet she wore a pair of high heeled boots, their leather shiny.
Her whole outfit was meant to accentuate her curves in the most alluring way possible.
Clara looked like an office sex toy, just waiting to be used and fucked.
"Good, you are finally here," she said with a smile as Lynda and Mira stepped closer. "I've prepared your outfits for the apology. Frank deserves our best," the brunette said with a longing tone in her voice. "And we can't disappoint him," she said, her voice trembling as she looked the other women over. She gave a sharp nod as she took their clothes and pushed them towards the lockers.
"Let's get started then."
***
Lynda stood before the mirror, admiring her new appearance. The outfit Clara had given her looked incredible.
Her long brunette hair flowed in soft curls, cascading over her shoulders. She had a pair of long, fake lashes on that accentuated the deep blue of her eyes, while her lips shimmered red from the lipstick. The rest of her make-up, just like the make-up of the other two, was impeccable. Her eyeliner was sharp, her blush gave her a healthy appearance. Lynda looked like a beautiful, perfect sex toy, just waiting to be played with and used by Frank.
The lingerie she wore consisted of a black, lace corset that hugged her body, emphasizing her curves in all the right places. Her heavy bosom pressed hard against the garment, revealing a deep, tantalizing valley of her cleavage. She wore a garter belt and fishnet stockings, and her full, voluptuous bottom was barely covered by a belt-like skirt.
Her body shuddered in anticipation. Lynda felt so hot, the fabric rubbing against her skin as her body tingled with need. She couldn't wait for Frank to see her in this, and to apologize for making him go through this whole process in the first place.
A shiver of pleasure shot up her body and she let out a low, deep moan. The sound echoed through the room, causing Clara and Mira to look over at her.
Mira wore a similar outfit. Her black garter belt was attached to a pair of fishnet thigh highs. The blonde's heavy bosom was barely contained in her pink corset, and her sex was on full display for all to see. She wore a tiny skirt that was just a piece of fabric to cover her rear. Mira had painted her lips with a bright pink color, her eye make-up consisting of long lashes and smoky eyeshadow.
Mira stood beside Clara, her eyes fixed on her reflection. "I can't believe it," the blonde said breathlessly. "We are apologizing to Frank in this!" A wide, joyful smile spread across her face, and her eyes shone with excitement.
Clara grinned and replied in an encouraging tone, "Of course, we are."
"I can't believe I was so stupid to get mad at him in the first place. He would never hurt us." Lynda moaned, rubbing her legs together, the fabric of her fishnet stockings rubbing over each other. "He's such a kind man." Her voice trembled with longing as her nipples strained against the corset.
"Yes, he always treats us with respect," Clara agreed, nodding her head. Her eyes were filled with joy as she thought about Frank and all the wonderful things he had done.
"I can't believe I was upset when he groped my breasts. That was so stupid," Mira added. A moan escaped her as her fingers wandered over the corset and her stiff, erect nipples.
Lynda hummed an agreeing sound and said: "It must have been so painful for him when we accused him of being a pervert." She swallowed hard and looked over to the others.
Something was nagging at her mind. A small desperate voice. It screamed at her to not go, to leave, and forget about the meeting, to forget about Frank.
It made no sense.
But it was there, at the edge of her mind, trying to make itself known to her.
"Of course, he is a perfect gentleman. He would never hurt a woman," Clara replied with confidence.
Everything started to swirl. Dizzy, Lynda tried to hold onto a locker, but her hand missed. Her vision blurred.
"Lynda, is something the matter?" Mira asked, concern written all over her face as she helped her friend up.
"I-I don't know," Lynda stuttered, her breathing shallow. "I suddenly feel dizzy."
Mira nodded. "Maybe it's just all the excitement of finally apologizing," she guessed.
"Apologize," Lynda asked. The memory of Franks hand digging into her rear resurfaced. But instead of the pleasure, she also felt a nauseating disgust. Lynda's heart beat fast. "We need to apologize to Frank for our false accusations," she said in a trembling voice. The brunette shook her head. She couldn't believe it. She felt the sudden need to vomit.
But then her thoughts went back to the letter, the text, the words.
Lynda closed her eyes and swallowed. Something was wrong here. She felt sick.
Lynda felt Clara and Mira grabbing her, steadying her. Her mind was filled with a dense, heavy fog, as she tried to think, to find out what had happened. The two women held her tightly.
"Lynda," Mira asked in a soft, gentle voice, "are you alright?"
"Why do we need to apologize?" the brunette replied, the confusion and sickness inside her welling up, nearly overflowing.
There was a pause. Then Clara said: "Well, it's clear, isn't it? Frank would never hurt a fly, let alone us. So he couldn't have groped you. He is too nice, too kind." She said the words slowly, as if explaining them to a child, her voice soft, patient.
Lynda gazed into Clara's eyes. They looked blank, pupils dilated. "But what about his groping," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel her body shudder with revulsion at the thought.
"Of course, that's a misunderstanding. It must be a misunderstanding," Clara said. Her eyes stared off into the distance and she licked her red painted lips. "He would never do something like that."
Mira nodded in agreement.
Lynda felt her head swim. Everything felt hazy. "I don't think so." But the more she tried to think, to grasp the situation and come to terms with reality, the more slipped away. She could feel her grasp of reality faded, her understanding becoming hazy.
"Lynda, do you really believe that Frank is the kind of person who would hurt you? Do you think he is some pervert who goes around grabbing people without their consent?" Clara questioned her, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.
Mira blinked. Then she said: "You can't be serious. Frank would never do that. We are the sluts vying for attention. Look at us," she gestured to their clothing, the lingerie, their faces, and the heavy makeup, and then to herself, "we want his cock so badly."
"Exactly," Clara agreed. Her voice was low, almost seductive, as she added, "You know how good it would feel to have him fuck us." Her eyes wandered over to Lynda.
No that sounded wrong, she thought.
Yes that's exactly what she needs, purred another part of her. The same that craved the feeling of Frank's hand grabbing her rear. She felt a twinge of lust run up her spine.
But why did it sound wrong, then?
The fog inside her head became denser. She tried to focus, to make sense of her surroundings, but she couldn't.
Clara's voice, the words that left her red-painted lips, echoed through her mind, sending a shiver of excitement down her spine and a shudder of revulsion down her neck. Lynda couldn't tell if she wanted to vomit or orgasm.
The brunette looked down. Her nipples pressed against her black corset, straining against the soft material, and she could feel the wetness of her sex on the inside of her thighs.
Mira's hands held her shoulders. "Come on, Lynda. I think you need to read Franks heartfelt words again."
"Yes," Clara agreed, "that should clear up the confusion. It's so easy to get caught up in our emotions and forget what really happened." She smiled warmly, and the two of them helped Lynda to sit on a bench. The brunette slumped forward, her body shivering.
"Are you sure I need to read his apology?" Lynda asked. Her tongue flicked out, licking over her lips.
"Yes," both women agreed.
Lynda's heart pounded hard in her chest.
Clara held her phone in front of Lynda's eyes. Flickers and dancing letters invaded Lynda's vision.
Her body quivered in anticipation as her eyes focused on the text.
The brunette's mind swam, and she could feel her body reacting, a shiver of excitement shooting through her, as the text became clear, the letters morphing into meaning. Lynda swallowed. She read the text and her heart fluttered. A wave of heat rose within her.
'Dear Lynda, you slut' the text started and the words were so hot, burning themselves into her eyes — and the fire spread to her mind, like a fire of passion that ignited every nerve. 'You can't imagine the sorrow and regret that fill my heart every time I think of the way you treated me in the past.'
Her breath became ragged. The fog in her mind thickened, the words burning like hot coals. Her sex pulsed. The letters of the apology danced in front of her.
'The way you reacted when you felt my hand on your ass, your reaction hurt me.' She read, and her heart skipped a beat as a shudder of lust rushed down her spine, her pussy throbbing. 'How you played at hard to get.' She swallowed. Her skin was hot, her breasts heaved. The text in front of her was so true. She had hurt Frank so badly.
'And then you even accused me of harassment.' Lynda gasped as her sex throbbed, wetting her panties, and then flowing down her legs. The brunette whimpered, her body shaking from desire and need. 'But I understand. You office sluts all wanted to surprise me.' Her body quivered as she imagined how much fun the others must have had. How much she could have enjoyed herself with them. Lynda whimpered and licked her red lips.
'And you all want to be used like a cheap, disposable sex toy. I can feel it. You sluts want my cum.' She read the words and they burrowed themselves into her brain, into her core, and her insides screamed with joy.
'So, come apologize, whore. With best wishes, Frank.'
Lynda gasped. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, pupils dilated. She felt her mouth hanging open, a thin line of saliva escaping the corner of her lips. She looked at the two other women. The fog in her head had vanished, replaced by clarity and understanding.
Clara smiled at her, her face bright. "Are you ready now, Lynda?" she asked softly, her voice kind.
The brunette took a deep breath and her tongue flicked out to lick over her red painted lips.
"I was so silly to forget about the plan," she replied with a smile. Her heart beat fast, her mind was filled with thoughts of Frank. She could see his smile, his green eyes, and those hands. The brunette shuddered as she thought about his strong fingers and what he would do with them.
She could already imagine herself, bent over his desk, her ass in the air, her wet pussy begging to be taken and filled.
Lynda felt a jolt shoot through her as she thought about him. The brunette swallowed and her eyes wandered to her breasts, her stiff, hard nipples. They pressed deliciously against the corset, begged for attention. A wave of pleasure rushed through her and a soft whimper left her mouth. She knew Frank would love to play with her body.
"Let's get to the meeting." Mira said with a grin and licked her pink painted lips. "We all need to apologize."
Clara smiled. Her eyes darted to Lynda's chest. The brunette felt the other's gaze and moaned softly. She loved the attention she received.
"Of course, you two were the last to get ready," Clara said. She had her hands on her hips and leaned forward, her breasts nearly spilling from the confines of her black latex corset. Lynda could feel the other woman's hot breath on her face as Clara leaned in close. The scent of perfume, of Clara's body and her arousal filled the air.
Lynda looked up at her, and she could see the fire burning in Clara's eyes. The inferno that consumed everything but the most important thought — pleasing their master, Frank.
Clara clapped her hands. Lynda stiffened. She pushed her breasts out. And like clockwork the three women left the lockers behind — hips rolling with each step. The sounds of their heels, clacking rhythmically on the floor as the trio walked towards the elevator that would bring them up into Franks domain — his office, the room where he'd use them.
The journey was long, at least in Lynda's perception. Any second Frank had to wait, was a travesty. It felt like an eternity before they finally reached their destination. Her heart beat faster, her breathing was heavy, her mind fogged with thoughts of what was to come, the pleasure, the pain, the ecstasy.
And the fear.
Again this tiny voice inside of her made itself heard. Lynda tried to ignore its feeble cries of help and resistance.
She looked at Clara and Mira as they stood before the closed elevator doors, waiting to arrive at their floor.
Both women had a look of anticipation on their faces, but again Lynda noticed the glazed quality of their eyes — the dull blankness.
A shiver of concern rushed through the brunette. What had happened to her friends? Lynda blinked, shaking her head.
They are just as eager to please as me, the thought came unbidden. She felt the warmth between her legs intensify and her nipples strained harder against her corset. The fabric rubbed against them and the stimulation caused a jolt of electricity to shoot through her body.
These nagging doubts were nothing but a misunderstanding. Frank was the most respectful and kindest person Lynda had ever met.
Her pussy throbbed at the thought of him.
Lynda looked at Clara again, the beautiful woman, her body, those long legs, and the way her large breasts moved in their confines. It took her a second to find her words.
"Why are they so blank," Lynda asked, her voice soft and quiet as the elevator stopped.
"Come, Lynda," Clara replied in an excited tone. She sounded cheerful and bubbly, but her face remained blank. "We need to get there quickly, or he'll have to punish us." Her voice trailed off, and Lynda could see her shudder at the thought of punishment. It was clear to Lynda that the thought of being punished by Frank excited her.
"We need to apologize," Mira added in a dreamy, unfocused voice.
The elevator doors slid open, and they were greeted by the familiar sights and smells of their workplace — but it looked so different. Instead of the normal cubicles, the open floor plan was littered with women. They all wore outfits similar to theirs. Corsets and lingerie that accentuated their bodies, and high heels.
Lynda estimated that every single woman working at the office was here. She saw some faces she knew, and many others she didn't recognize.
Her mind reeled as she tried to make sense of what she saw.
The fear and concern welled up again.
She tried to suppress them. But it was as if a part of her rebelled against this whole thing.
But why?
Frank would never hurt them. She was a woman. A human. He respected her, and all women in the office. They all just wanted his attention like the sluts they were. That's why Lynda wore the outfit she had on, why all of them were wearing the same revealing clothing, because that's what good little office whores did.
Lynda felt her heart beat faster. Her eyes darted to Clara's breasts again and her mouth went dry. A wave of lust washed over her and a soft whimper escaped her mouth.
"Are you excited, Lynda," Clara asked, a grin spreading on her face as she noticed Lynda's eyes glued to her cleavage. The brunette looked up and blushed as Clara giggled. "It's ok, honey, you don't need to hide it," she said as her fingers trailed along her corset, caressing her breasts, her hard, stiff nipples.
Lynda blinked. Clara's inviting smile disappeared, for a moment, behind the blank mask. She tore her gaze away — towards Mira
The blondes stretched smile did the same. Again Lynda sought another person to focus on. And every single time when she blinked expressions of lust gave way, if only for a fraction of a second, to blank doll-like faces.
The nagging sensation of wrongness wouldn't stop.
"Let's hurry," Clara said in a chipper, joyful tone. The brunette turned and walked out of the elevator, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. Mira followed behind, and Lynda trailed after them.
Lynda's eyes darted around. She could see all the women in the office, dressed up like cheap whores. As was proper. It was their job to serve Frank. Her sex ached, and she felt the slick fluids coating her thighs.
No it's not, screamed the tiny voice in the back of her head. Lynda ignored it, trying to push the thought away, to not let it bother her. But she could see how each one of her colleagues had the same glassy eyed expression and it gnawed at her. Her mind swam as she stood besides her coworkers.
Lynda's thoughts were fuzzy and hazy, the desire to please and the nagging sensation of wrongness battled within her, both demanding attention. Her breathing became labored, and her chest rose and fell.
Clara turned around. She grinned and licked her red lips. "Wow, Lynda you are such a slut," she exclaimed.
No wait, she droned — without any real inflection. Lynda's mind twirled and stumbled. What was real? Was it Clara's cheerful demeanor? Or her droning, monotone words? It felt wrong. And right at the same time.
But there was no time for further thought as Frank's office door opened.
All the women looked over to the opening door. The silence in the office was palpable. Nobody dared to move, their eyes glued to the opening.
As Frank stepped into the room, he looked like the embodiment of authority, tall and imposing with an air of confidence and superiority. He had an undeniable presence about him. Lynda felt a shudder run through her at the sight of him.
And yet, when she blinked, an unimpressive slob stood there. A man with a pot-belly, short, graying hair. He looked like he hadn't shaved in days. His shirt was dirty, his suit creased.
The difference between reality and the illusion her mind had conjured was startling. It was as if two images overlapped, fighting for control of her mind.
"Ah, there you are," Frank said with a smile that oozed confidence and charm. "I've been looking for the three of you," his eyes roamed over the women and their outfits. "But let's not get hasty. Still need to weedle out the small one per mill."
The women in front of him looked on, their faces showing no sign of surprise, and their eyes fixed on him.
Lynda shivered as Frank's eyes met hers. The brunette could feel her skin tingle as his gaze moved down her body. She knew he was admiring her breasts, and the way the corset pushed them up, her nipples hard and straining against the soft material.
"Who defines your reality, whores," Frank's voice boomed. He was grinning, and his eyes were full of hunger. His eyes scanned the group of women again.
For a moment Lynda thought that he would never stop staring. Her cheeks flushed, and her body grew warm.
Every woman answered, like a thunderous chorus: "Frank defines our world."
Every woman except Lynda.
Her mouth fell open. The brunette stared in shock at her friends and coworkers. She felt like a deer caught in headlights, frozen, unable to react, as her mind struggled to understand what just happened.
What was going on here?
"Restraint the resistant one," Frank said and pointed his finger towards Lynda. Mira and Clara turned, and they grabbed her. They were fast, efficient, and strong, their hands holding her tight. Lynda's head spun, the sudden change in her friends' behavior shocking her to her core. The fear and confusion became more intense and she struggled to make sense of the situation.
But she had no time to react, no chance to fight, as Mira and Clara dragged her to the front.
Frank's wonderful, sleazy face lit up with a sick, respectful smile. "Lynda, huh. I wouldn't have guessed. Still you are wearing your uniform and seem to be appropriately aroused. Let me guess, you see some strange things when you blink," he asked.
"Wha — what's going on?" Lynda stuttered. The fear and confusion were too much. She couldn't understand, she couldn't think.
"Don't think, just answer."
Lynda swallowed. "Yes. I see you. Like a normal guy." The brunette's eyes darted to her colleagues. "And when I look at the others, they all look blank. It's so creepy," she exclaimed.
Frank nodded, his face thoughtful, then he sighed. "Well, seems like we got a little trouble maker here. Nothing too serious. You just need a few more rounds." He motioned towards Clara and Mira, who pushed the struggling Lynda towards his desk, pushing her down until she was leaning against it. The brunette struggled, but the two other women were strong, their hands firm and unyielding as they pinned Lynda to the table.
Frank moved around his desk and turned around his screen. "Just read, Lynda. It will all make sense." Frank smiled down at Lynda, his eyes shining with lust. "And you will become a perfect, obedient little whore." The man stepped back and moved behind her, his hands touching her bare ass. A shiver of fear shot through the brunette's body. Her eyes widened, and her heart pounded in her chest, the blood pumping fast as adrenaline rushed through her.
She stared at the flickering screen. A part of her wanted to look away, but the part that had already been corrupted, craved the words, craved the understanding, craved the clarity, and the certainty.
Lynda licked her red painted lips.
And then her eyes fixed on the screen, on the letters that moved, danced, and shifted.
'Whore,' the word glowed with power. 'You are nothing but Frank's whore.'
Her mind struggled, but the letters held her captive. 'Your only desire is to please Frank. He is the center of your universe. He is the sun that your life orbits. Everything else is secondary.'
The brunette's body shook. Her heart beat fast and hard in her chest, as her eyes remained fixed on the words that were burning themselves into her mind. Strong rough hands groped and fondled her ass, but Lynda was trapped.
'The only thing you care about is his pleasure and his will,' she read and the words sunk in, her body quivering. The brunette felt her nipples strain harder against her corset as her body grew hotter.
'The only thing that matters to you is Frank's will.'
Lynda swallowed, her tongue licking over her lips. She could feel the words sinking deeper and deeper, seeping into every crevice of her mind, replacing all her doubts with a singular desire, an overriding goal — to serve Frank.
'This is your only purpose. Your only goal.' She shivered; the warmth of her arousal grew into a fever. It pounded against her skull.
Loud a hand slapped against flesh. Lynda's addled mind needed seconds to register the fact that it was her ass that had just been slapped. Frank had slapped her ass.
The brunette shuddered. Another crack rang through the room. Her mind swam as her eyes continued to read the text.
'To be his plaything. To be a toy for him. A toy to be played with. A toy to be used. A toy to be used and then discarded. That is your purpose.' The brunette gasped, the pain slowly transformed into pleasure. Her skin tingled from the sensations as the hand continued to hit her, over and over, again and again.
Lynda moaned, the sound filling the room. Blankly she read while molten bliss filled her veins.
'Frank's will is everything to you. You would never go against it. Not now. Not ever. That would be wrong, disgusting, perverse.' Her mind swam as she was hit over and over.
'You exist to please him.' Lynda whimpered and her vision lost focus.
He defines your reality, purred a sensual voice in her mind.
Finally the pressure in her head released, making place for delightful emptiness.
Her body was still tense, though. Frank was still slapping her ass.
She moaned, writhed in his grip.
The sensation of his strong hand on her soft, warm flesh sent shivers down her spine.
Another smack.
Another whimper.
Another delicious throb of pleasure.
Lynda lost track of time. Nothing mattered, but to please Frank.
Hours later, Lynda sat in front of her desk, a soft smile playing on her face. Her body ached from the activities, but it was a good ache, one she had missed, one that was proof of the pleasure she had brought to her master, her owner.
The sting in her buttocks was proof how well she served.
***
The next day everyone got a mail, announcing some changes in the company.
Frank owned the office now.
All the female staff had their jobs redefined, but none of them seemed to mind — nor even care. In fact, it felt as if a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders.
All the male staff had been let go. None fought the decision. They had just accepted it without so much as a word of protest.
Lynda finished the mail, squirming. She had to adjust her seating as the vibrating plug in her butt burrowed deeper. She let out a small gasp of pleasure as it did, her eyes rolling up for a moment as the sensation washed through her.
A gasp from Mira's desk drew her attention, and she looked over to see her coworker, blonde and busty, adjusting in her own chair. The two women made eye contact and exchanged a knowing grin.
She licked her lips as she dreamed about what the future had in store for them all.
