Sexy Excerpt: 'Eleven O'Clock Deadline' by Thomas S. Roche

Alison Tyler is the editor of "The Big Book of Bondage: Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint," from which this story is taken. Cleis Press has granted permission for its reproduction.

When Karen heard the office door open and close, she didn't panic. She knew the cleaning crew was still in the building, so she frequently worked this late. She was also aware that Chad might enter covertly by the back entrance, which the cleaning crews always left open, and approach her face-to-face if he came by to pick her up and managed to find parking.

She was duplicating documents for Phoenix, which were nearly finished, and she had an hour left to meet the FedEx deadline on the West Coast at 11 p.m., so she didn't even look up when the door clicked, hissed, and kerked.

With the help of the half-drunk beer on the cutting table next to her, Karen was beginning to decompress and let go of her stress. The beer was leftover from the holiday party, along with the other thirty or forty beers jammed into the utility room's overflow refrigerator. Though their bottles had now been carefully rinsed out and put in the office recycling bin, it was actually the two beers that had preceded the half-beer that had helped Karen unwind the most. She was feeling very free and ready to end this awful day because of the drinks and sheer tiredness. But she was anxious to finish copying before Chad buzzed her cell phone to let her know he was on the street downstairs. In fact, she was so occupied that she didn't even bother to glance over her shoulder to check who else was in the office.

She may have been slightly alarmed when she felt a large, heavy hand in her hair and another snatching her wrist. She let out a scream.

Then she heard Chad's familiar, heated snarl in her ear. It was his poor voice, which was equal parts dark chocolate and red wine. And in her throat, the scream died.

"Don't move a muscle," he ordered her. Avoid fighting. Lady, don't struggle or dare to scream once more. Follow my instructions to the letter, or you'll regret it."

The scream became a whine, then a groan.

"Chad, what are you doing?" Karen said. The cleaning crew has not left! They might enter.

With a growl, Chad said, "I'm depending on it. Do you think they want to watch me fuck you? Or would they enjoy a piece, in your opinion? I might consider giving them one if you're a good girl.

Sensation pulsed through Karen's body. Her knees were weak. She had no power.

Chad was lightning fast. He pretended to have done this a thousand times or mentally prepared it. Perhaps both. After removing his hand from her hair, he grabbed her other wrist. For a man with such large hands, it was easy to pin her wrists together in the small of her back. Since Chad was 6'2" and Karen was 5'3", this was actually quite simple. She had the slender figure of an athlete who pursued speed, whereas he had a large, broad, thick, muscular frame. She ran while he powerlifted. However, she was unable to run at this time. If she could, she wouldn't have wanted to, save for the voice telling her, "No, this is wrong! Not in the workplace.

And the much more sultry voice in her pussy said, "No, don't, Sir, don't hurt me, Sir. I'll do everything you ask me to." That voice also didn't want her to flee. It desired her to disperse.

By practically grabbing her by the wrist and her hair and dragging her to the cutting table, Chad made that part simple. Since most documents were now digital, the table had not been used for cutting for as long as Karen had been employed here. Instead, the cutter was on its side, nestled between the wall and the copier. Except for a few reams of paper she had placed there in case the copier ran out of paper, the table was empty.

The legs of the cutting table were powerful.

Chad forcefully split her legs by kicking her feet to the bottom of them. He slapped her ass hard, through her straight wool skirt, in response to her attempts to wriggle and struggle. She squirmed more and gasped. He pinned her to the table and gave her another spanking.

"I'll scream for help," she purred, and he gave her a heavier spanking, which caused her legs to get hot suddenly.

"I wouldn't advise that," Chad remarked, and gave her another, more severe spanking.

She let out a squeal. She writhed and attempted to shut her legs; he used his large black boots to kick them apart once more and secured her to the table with his knee, allowing him to manipulate her as his large hands wrapped rope around her wrists.

He quickly and tightly bound her wrists. She fought, feeling how firmly she was bound, her pussy getting wet. After fastening her wrists, Chad seized her hair once more and jerked her head back.

A ball gag appeared in his other hand.

Then she purred, "I'll scream."

He pushed the ball gag in and easily opened her mouth. Behind her long blond hair, he fastened it firmly.

He responded roughly, "Now you won't," while grabbing her hair. Karen moaned and squealed beneath the gag when she saw his hand vanish and return with a blindfold, but it was too late for her to resist more than a fleeting resistance. Karen would never know how Chad managed to blindfold a girl with such incredible ease using one hand, but a moment later, she was hunched over with her ass in the air and a ball gag in her mouth.

Chad's time to fasten Karen's ankles to the table legs was a little longer. As Chad tightened the ropes, she could feel them encircling her bare ankles and getting tighter. She struggled, but ended up caught in the middle of writhing and twisting. She was so moved on that her hips were virtually humping the table. She was leaking.

"I told you to stop struggling!" Chad would growl as he reached up and gave her a spanking on the ass while she resisted.

He would repeatedly slap Karen's cheeks through the little blue skirt while she whimpered and wiggled her butt.

Chad got up and pulled up Karen's skirt after tying her ankles to the table. It was a straight-cut, navy blue, high-quality wool garment that was too short to be businesslike. Although it wasn't quite a mini, it was short enough to draw attention from the office guys, and none complained to management.

Chad tucked the skirt's hem into the waistband and drew it to her hips. He began feeling Karen up by putting his hand between her legs.

He boasted, "That's a nice short slutty skirt." Additionally, you have nothing below. You must have been anticipating me. You lustful little office slut, you're good and wet."

His fingers moved from her moist entrance to her clit, caressing her naked, smooth slit. Karen writhed, and her groans became louder.

She had removed her pantyhose after the second beer, leaving her legs and pussy naked. She always shaved for Chad because he liked her that way, and Chad got what he wanted, especially when he asked politely.

She wasn't just "good and wet," but dripping. Was she soaked and soaking from the struggle, or had she been when he came in? She used to fantasize a lot at work, but today she had been far too preoccupied with the Phoenix account. When he had grabbed her, she was most likely dehydrated.

With moisture throughout, she could feel Chad's fingers moving in and out of her pussy, caressing her entrance, channel, and clit. It was streaming down her bare thighs in rivulets.

He purposefully pushed his fingers in—two, it seemed—roughly enough to cause her to groan under the gag. Karen and Chad sensed she was much more damp inside than outside. That was a clear indication that she had been suddenly and intensely aroused.

The sensation of his touch turning her from dry to wet was one of Chad's favorite things. At first, Karen wasn't always fond of it, but Chad's eagerness won her over. The idea that Chad could quickly start her sexual reaction cycle from zero to sixty was the only thing that made her feel more attracted to him.

Just as he had done when he brought her into the meeting room.

Chad removed his cock and unzipped his pants. Karen groaned as it rubbed her slit with its head. He alternated between fingering her with two or three fingers and tickling her clit and entrance with his head.

He stroked his cock against her and hissed, "You want this?" "You want my cock up inside you, slut?"

Karen pretended to be the victim against her will. She shook her head on the cutting table's cold, unyielding surface. She gave a little wiggle. She writhed and fought. Her desire increased as she struggled to resist her impending ravishment, making it more difficult for her to maintain her denial. Already, her hips were grinding in a brazen burlesque of fucking. The table made her nipples feel firm. Around the gag, her mouth was moist and drooling. She desired to put her mouth to his cock.

However, she continued to shake her head, and Chad understood.

As he whipped the belt out of his belt loops, it hissed harshly and acridly, and his buckle rattled. Karen squirmed, squealing. She shook the table with the force of her ass wiggle. She made so much noise that she felt excited and afraid simultaneously when she thought of the cleaning crew, but she could not stop herself. They were going to whip her.

Chad stepped back enough to give him some swing distance and remarked, "Let's see if this changes your mind."

Elegantly, violently, the belt hissed down. A searing slash of anguish touched her bare cheek. With the first blow, a muffled sound that sounded more like a groan than a shout came out of Karen's mouth. However, the sound intensified to a scream as the afterburn took hold. Karen experienced the fire of catharsis when she realized she could scream as loudly as she wanted—no one would save her—and the ball gag successfully silenced her.

The belt repeatedly snapped down. As the anguish spread across her bare thighs and ass, Karen struggled against the chains. She had no power. After giving her ten or twelve strokes, Chad reached underneath her and took her blouse. He pulled rather than unbuttoned it. Buttons flew. The blouse was pricey, but Karen didn't give a damn. He expertly undid her front-clasp bra by pushing his hand up under her. Her naked tits with a blindfold on, as she waited for the other breast to receive the same treatment, Karen was unaware of what was about to happen until she felt the first hot, firm squeeze on one. The pain got worse.

Clips for binder.

Chad was unable to remove Karen's blouse without tearing it to pieces since her arms were bound behind her back. This would have been acceptable to Karen at the time, but Chad followed caution. He slid the filmy silk gown down to reveal her shoulders, leaving it splayed across her back. Karen could feel running from her nipples to her clit to her pussy while both of her tits were pinched. As Chad positioned himself and rubbed his cock against her entrance, she bit into the gag.

He spoke clearly and slowly.

He asked her, "Do you want my cock inside you?" "Do you want to be fucked?"

Karen did; her insatiable desire for it made it difficult to think clearly. Despite her need for the searing lances of pain over her behind, she made herself shake her head. Chad handed that to her with a snarling snarl of anger. He took a step back and strapped her fiercely, applying scorching red stripes to Karen's exposed ass.

She believed he moved like a god as he swung that thing, the oiled leather of his belt as smooth and supple as Karen herself had made it only that Sunday night, kneeling on a pillow in front of the coffee table covered in newspapers, collared, naked, and incredibly turned on. Did she think he would use it for this kind of thing? That on Wednesday, the ropes she had dutifully cleaned and looped into six-foot lengths would encircle her ankles and wrists, and the large boots she had also mink-oiled that evening would kick her high-heeled red pumps wide apart? She would be at the office when she smelled the silky, supple leather blindfold and the mink oil she had applied to the ball gag's strap?

She had anticipated it.

As hard as she could handle, Chad gave it to her. He also knew exactly when to stop—the instant she broke, not because the pain was too great, but rather because she was so hungry for him that she was unable to refuse. Not merely to act.

He pinned her bound body more securely to the table by pulling her hair and leaning down on top of her. He addressed her directly.

"Do you want to be fucked?"

Karen remained silent since she was unable to say no. Because she needed it so badly and believed she would fucking die if he wasn't within her within a minute, she was unable to force herself to shake her head. However, being unable to request it felt both delightfully and tragically similar to the situation she was in most of the time: waiting for masculine lust to take over and being silent in her yearning.

This time, it did. She didn't want to be taken by Chad. He deliberately pressed his lips on the nape of her neck.

He leaned down and said, "I guess you really don't want it," once his cock was positioned at her opening and his fingers caused her vaginal lips to split wide. Fortunately for you, I don't give a shit.