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She seemed to like that. She pushed back against him and pressed her head down on the blotter. She began moaning and moving her hips in rhythm with his thrusts. Jack couldn't hold back, he came with a rush. He kept rubbing her clit and in a few seconds, she came too. He could see a deep flush spread over her neck and cheeks.

When he was finished, he pulled away, watching the drool of fluids leak from her wide-open pussy. God, she was a hot lover! He wanted to push her further, if he could.

He allowed her to rise and go clean up in the bathroom. When she came out, he stopped her. “Let's talk about your stubble."

She blinked. “Yes, master?"

"Don't bother shaving tomorrow. I want you to have a Brazilian wax at a salon I'm going to send you to. They need some hair to work with, they tell me."

Jack could see the color drain from her face. “But, sir-won't that hurt?” Her knees came together involuntarily.

"It's possible, but I think they try to keep the pain to a minimum. But if you'd prefer, we could have one of the workers shave you every morning. I'll bet that would be a great incentive, huh?” Jack pictured her on her back on her desk, her pussy facing the door, while a different worker shaved her every day under the gaze of others in the corridor.

El clearly didn't like that idea. “No, that's okay. I'll go to the salon."

"Great.” Soon, he planned to add other elements to the work she'd have done, but that would have to be arranged later. Ever since the idea had come to him yesterday, he'd wanted to add body jewelry to his company slut. It would make her more exotic and desirable.

If he handled it right, it would also kill two birds with one stone. Jack remained dissatisfied with the bruises he and Jim had left on her body. It worried clients and it made him seem like an overly cruel master. But he was sure she'd need additional punishments. After her beatings, he'd bet she'd choose almost anything but that, including piercings. She didn't have to know that he no longer wanted to bruise her.

"You may go,” he said, dismissing her. He returned to his desk, not bothering to look up as El quickly dressed and left. But he turned on his camera and watched as she settled in, her legs spread wide for him under the desk.

CHAPTER 8

El's stomach was growling. She checked the clock: one-ten. She hadn't heard anything from Jack for more than two hours and wondered if she should just go to lunch on her own like she used to do or wait for his instructions. Remembering her many painful lessons, she decided to do nothing until he told her to.

Suddenly, the intercom buzzed. Breathing a sigh of relief, El's hand dropped to her lap and began rubbing her damp pussy even as she picked up the receiver.

"Yes, sir?"

"El, I've been remiss. I should've sent you to lunch. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, sir. Would you like something, sir?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm meeting a client for a late lunch. Go ahead and take forty-five minutes.” The voice paused. “But first, come in for a minute."

El's heart began to pound. Now what? S he dutifully entered the office and stripped, then knelt; it was becoming routine.

"You've had kind of a light day today, haven't you? Just one fuck and two blowjobs. So I've got a way for you to earn some extra money."

El didn't know how to respond. She wanted to turn him down and just be left alone for lunch, but she knew better than to refuse.

"Thank you, sir. What can I do?"

"You probably have forgotten, but Hank's retiring Friday. I told him to stop by my office at two today for a special thanks from me. Will you take care of him?"

El's mind recoiled. A bigger pig than Hank she'd never met. He was a profane, loud misogynist who thought the world had been ruined when women got the vote. To be Hank's plaything worried her.

"Hank, sir? He's kinda rough, isn't he? He might hurt me if you're not here to protect me."

"Hank? Nonsense. Sure, he's a little rough around the edges, but he knows better than to hurt our slut."

With a sinking feeling, El knew she was trapped. “Well, all right, sir. I'll do my best."

Dismissed, she dressed and escaped. She had no car, so she had to walk to a nearby restaurant. She had barely made it to the sidewalk when a car pulled up. Inside, she recognized two men from the day shift, on their way back from lunch.

"Hey, Ellen!” The driver, a squat black man, grinned at her. His name came to her suddenly: Duane.

"No, she's called El now, aren't you, gal?” the other worker put in, a skinny white man named Ralph. He'd apparently read the interoffice memo.

"Er, yes. Mr. Sawyer calls me El now.” She waved and started to walk away, hoping they'd let her go. But Duane backed up the car to catch up with her.

"I also understand that you have to be nice to us workers,” he said, leering.

El tried to set him straight. “Jack's in charge of all that,” she told him. “You have to clear it with him."

"That's true,” Ralph added, “but the way I hear it, you gotta show us your goodies whenever we want."

"Well, not out inpublic,” El responded, feeling the heat rise in her chest. “I mean, I don't want to get arrested."

Duane reached around behind him and opened the back door. “Get in. Or we'll tell Jack how you weren't very nice."

She wanted to refuse but feared additional punishment. She climbed in and closed the door. “Don't you guys have to be back at work?"

"Yeah,” Ralph said. “But first, we want to see a little show. Let me see your tits and pussy."

She pulled up her top, letting them have a good look. They whistled and high-fived each other.

"Now the rest,” Duane said. She left her top propped up over her breasts and lifted her ass up off the seat. She raised the hem of her dress, pushing her bare pussy out for them to see. Ralph reached out to touch her, but El didn't want to offer her services for free. She yanked her skirt and top back down and opened the door.

"Hey, that's not very friendly,” Ralph said.

"Like I said,” she told him. “You have to talk to Jack about that. I'm not supposed to just let everyone have at me all the time."

They didn't try to stop her as she got out. As the car drove back into the lot, El could hear them hooting and hollering.

She walked to the deli. She still had no money of her own, so if she was going to eat, she'd have to find Frankie. It wasn't so bad, she told herself. He's a sweet kid. Jack might even give her credit for blowing him again.

Frankie was behind the counter when she entered the nearly deserted deli. His face lit up. “Hey, the Sawyer secretary! Glad to see ya!” Another young man just stared at her. El surmised that Frankie had spilled the beans.

"What can I get for ya?"

She ordered a tuna salad sandwich and an iced tea. “Can I get that to go?"

"Well, sure. In fact, I woulda delivered it!"

"No, I wanted to get out and stretch my legs.” For some reason, both boys thought the line was hilarious.

"Um, do you have any money?” Frankie whispered as the other man prepared her food.

"No, I don't,” she whispered back, feeling the color rise in her cheeks. “I was wondering if we could have the same arrangement?” She couldn't believe she was offering to trade a blow-job for a sandwich.

"Well, what about Sam?” He pointed over to the other young worker, a thin young man wearing glasses, who stopped making her sandwich long enough to tip an ear in their direction.

El shook her head. “Only one of you. That's more than fair."

"Well, ya gotta give him something or he'll tell the boss that I'm giving away food. I'll get fired."

El thought for a moment. “Would you mind if he watches?"

Frankie gave a shrug and went over to talk with Sam. Sam said something back and Frankie came over to El. “He says if you're naked, okay."