Swallowing My Boss's Load Like a Good Little Whore

After the conference I wrote about last time I'm not just his conference slut anymore; I'm his daily office cocksucker. Almost every day, I sneak into his corner office, drop to my knees like a whore, and suck his fat cock until he blasted his hot load straight down my throat. No chit-chat, no reciprocation—just me servicing him like a cheap hooker and then slinking out with the taste of his jizz lingering on my tongue. It was humiliating, it was rude as fuck, and god, it made me so wet I could barely focus on work afterward.

First one happened just a few days after we got back. It was a Monday morning, and the office was buzzing with post-weekend chat. I got a curt text: the day before "My office, 10 AM. Wear something slutty." So I done myself up like the obedient cum-dump he turned me into. I slipped into a tight black pencil skirt that hugged my ass so hard On top, a sheer white blouse with the top three buttons undone, letting my lacy red bra peek out like an invitation to grope. Heels, of course—four-inch stilettos that made my legs look endless, I strutted into his office, heart pounding, pussy already throbbing from the anticipation.

He didn't even look up from his desk at first. "Lock the door, slut," he growled, leaning back in his chair and unzipping his pants. I did as told, my cheeks burning with shame as I dropped and knelt between his spread legs. His cock was already semi-hard, thick and veiny,. "Suck it, you worthless bitch. Make it quick—I have a meeting." No foreplay, no compliments—just straight to business. I wrapped my lips around his shaft, gagging a bit as he grabbed my hair and shoved my head down, forcing me to take him deep. The musky scent of his balls filled my nostrils as I bobbed like a pro, slurping and choking on his meat while he scrolled through emails on his phone. "Deeper, you cock-hungry whore," he muttered, thrusting up to hit the back of my throat. Tears streamed down my face, ruining my mascara, but I didn't stop. I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum leaking out, and worked my hand on his balls, squeezing them just how he likes. It didn't take long—maybe five minutes of me humiliating myself before he grunted, "Swallow it all, cunt," and exploded. Rope after rope of thick, cum flooded my mouth, sliding down my throat as I gulped like a desperate slut. He held my head there until he was done, then pushed me off with a smirk. "Good girl. Now get the fuck out." I stood up, and left without a word, my panties soaked and my dignity in shreds. Back at my desk, I could feel his load settling in my stomach, a constant reminder of what a filthy office toy I'd become.

2 days later He was on a call when I entered, motioning for me to crawl under his desk. My face flushed with humiliation as I got on all fours, the carpet rough on my knees, and shuffled under there. His cock was out, waiting, and I knew the drill. While he droned on about quarterly reports to some exec on the line, I started sucking—slow at first, licking from base to tip, savouring the way he twitched in my mouth. "That's right, keep going," he whispered down to me mid-sentence, his free hand fisting my hair to guide my rhythm. The degradation hit hard; here I was, this educated woman reduced to a hidden blowjob machine, gagging on my boss's dick while he conducted business. Spit dripped down my chin as I deep-throated him, my throat convulsing around his girth. He loved making it rough—pushing my head until I choked, calling me a "dumb cumslut" under his breath. The call dragged on, and so did I, edging him with my tongue until he finally hung up. "Finish it, you greedy whore," he commanded, yanking me harder. I sucked furiously, hollowing my cheeks, until he erupted with a low groan. Cum shot down my throat in forceful spurts, so much I nearly coughed it up, but I swallowed every drop like the trained pet I am. He zipped up, kicked my thigh lightly to signal I was done, and said, "Out. And fix your lipstick" I crawled out, stood on shaky legs, and left, the flavour of his seed coating my mouth as I pretended to work the rest of the afternoon.

Fast-forward six months, and the routine has turned me into a full-blown cum receptacle. My boss no longer fucked me, no more pounding my dripping pussy, no more making me scream as I cum on his cock I serviced him, swallowed his load, and got dismissed. Endless teasing and denial that left me throbbing and desperate, It didnt help that Hubby was working away a lot at this time as well. Word had gotten around, too. Whispers in the break room, leering glances in meetings—I got a reputation as the bosses bit on the side. I ended up fucking a couple of the other guys in the stationery cupboard as I was so horny. Let me paint the picture for you, complete with my slutty satin outfits.

Every morning, I'd do myself up in something satin and stockings. Take one typical Tuesday: I slinked into the office wearing a deep burgundy satin blouse, the kind that's so thin it moulds to my tits, my hard nipples poking through. Paired it with a matching satin pencil skirt that hugged my ass and thighs. No panties, of course—why bother when you're just there to be used? Boss texted me mid-morning: "Office. Now." I hurried in, locked the door, and dropped to my knees without a word. He didn't even acknowledge me at first, just unzipped and shoved his semi-hard cock in my face. "Suck it dry, you pathetic whore”, grabbing my hair and forcing me down. I gagged on his thickness, tears smearing my makeup as I bobbed like a pro, my satin blouse rubbing against his thighs with every thrust. No touching myself, no relief—just me slurping away until he flooded my throat with his hot, sticky load. "Swallow and get out," he said, zipping up and turning back to his computer. I left with cum breath and a aching pussy, the satin fabric now wrinkled from the rough handling, a visible sign of my humiliation.

The boss's indifference only fuelled my desperation. He stopped fucking me altogether after the first month I was just a mouth to him. "You're good for one thing, slut," he'd say while I choked on his dick. "Don't expect anything in return." It drove me insane, leaving me wet and frustrated, rubbing my thighs together under my desk just to get some friction. And that's when the reputation spread. Guys started "accidentally" brushing against me in the halls, murmuring shit like, "Heard you're generous with that mouth." I played coy at first, but the denial was too much.

First guy was Mark from accounting—a nerdy type with a surprisingly big cock. It happened about three months in. I was restocking supplies, dressed in a sleek navy satin wrap dress that tied at the side, the fabric so slippery it felt like it could slide off with one tug. My tits were practically spilling out, the deep V-neck showing off my cleavage. Mark "needed" some folders and followed me in, closing the door with a click. "Heard about you and the boss," he said, grabbing my ass through the satin. I didn't resist "Fuck me then, if you're man enough," I whispered, hiking up my dress to reveal my bare, shaved pussy. He pushed me against the shelves, yanked open the wrap with one hand, and slammed into me from behind. No foreplay, no kissing—just raw, animalistic pounding. The satin bunched around my waist as he rutted like a dog, calling me a "dirty office slut" while shelves rattled. He came quick, filling me with his load, then pulled out and left me there, dripping and unsatisfied. I didn't cum but the degradation made me touch myself later in the bathroom, fingering my cum-soaked hole while biting my lip to stay quiet.

A couple weeks later, it was Jason from sales, I was in emerald green satin this time—a button-up blouse and high-waisted satin trousers that shimmered under the fluorescent lights, making my ass look like a shiny target. He cornered me in the cupboard during lunch, pretending to grab staples. "Boss says you're free use," he smirked, I unbuttoned my blouse, letting my tits bounce free, the satin framing them like a gift. He shoved me to my knees first, making me suck his average dick until it was slick, then bent me over a box of printer ink. "Take it, you whore," he told me, slamming into my pussy without a condom—raw and reckless. The satin trousers pooled at my ankles as he used me like a fleshlight, slapping my ass and pulling my hair. He lasted longer, grunting obscenities about all the "office action," before dumping his cum deep inside. Pulled out, and sauntered off. Me? Left panting, with cum leaking down my thighs. I had to waddle back to my desk, the satin sticking to my skin, reeking of sex.

This all went on for about a year over that year, I'd say at least 15 guys got a piece of me—boss included, plus Mark and Jason from before, and a rotating cast of sales bros, and IT nerds. They'd corner me in the cupboard, the bathroom, slamming into my holes quick, rude pumps, cum dumps, and "see ya, slut." I'd slink away with jizz leaking out, satin outfits stained and stretched, pretending to file reports while fantasizing about the next using.

I got headhunted for a new role—same corporate thing, but with a fat pay increase I couldn't refuse. I handed in my notice with mixed feelings; sure, the salary sucked here, but I'd miss being the office slut.. The constant humiliation, the whispers calling me "the company cumdump"—it was my twisted high. Boss didn't even blink when I told him; just smirked and said, "One last blowjob for the road?" I obliged, of course, on my knees in his office one final time, gulping his load. The team threw me a leaving party on the last Friday—booze, bad speeches, and lingering stares from all the guys who'd had me. I showed up dressed to kill a slinky red satin cocktail dress that clung to every curve like a second skin, the fabric so smooth and shiny it reflected the dim bar lights. Low-cut front plunging, exposing sideboob and making my tits jiggle with every step. The hem barely skimmed mid-thigh, and with no panties underneath, a gust of wind could've flashed my shaved slit to the whole room. Paired it with stilettos.

The party dragged on with fake well-wishes, but I knew the real fun would come after. As things wound down, two sales guys—Jason and his buddy Trevor, a tall, ripped guy pulled me aside. "One for the road, slut?" Jason whispered, his hand already groping my ass through the satin. I was tipsy and horny as fuck I nodded like the eager bitch I am. They had a hotel room booked nearby—just a cheap, seedy spot for "after-party drinks," they said with a wink. We piled into a cab, their hands roaming under my dress the whole ride, fingers teasing my wet pussy but never letting me cum. By the time we stumbled into the room, I was begging for it.

They didn't waste time—Jason shoved me onto the king-sized bed, he yanked down the front of my dress to free my tits, the fabric pooling around my waist "Look at this whore, all dressed up for her farewell fuck," Trevor laughed, unzipping his Jeans and pulling out his thick cock. Jason did the same, flipping me onto all fours so my ass was up, the satin skirt hiked high to expose everything. They spit-roasted me right there, raw and ruthless, like I was nothing but holes to fill. Trevor grabbed my hips, slamming into my pussy from behind—no lube, no warning, just his girth stretching me wide on the mattress, pounding me so hard the headboard banged against the wall, my tits bouncing wildly under the twisted satin. Meanwhile, Jason knelt in front, fisting my hair and forcing my mouth onto his dick. "Suck it like you mean it" he sneered, thrusting deep enough to make me gag, tears streaming down my face and ruining my makeup. They synced up their rhythms—Trevor railing my pussy with brutal slaps, his balls smacking my clit, while Jason face-fucked me, his cock hitting the back of my throat with every push. The satin dress was ruined now, cum and spit dribbling down my chin onto the shiny fabric as the room filled with the sounds of slapping skin and my muffled moans.

"Switch," Jason said after a few minutes, and they flipped me round. Now Jason was buried in my pussy, calling me a "greedy cumslut" as he hammered away from behind, while Trevor made me deep-throat him, his hands on my head holding me in place until I choked. No mercy, The hotel room reeked of sex. It didn't take long for them to blow—Trevor first, pulling out of my mouth to paint my face with thick ropes of cum, some landing on my exposed tits and staining the red satin white. "Marking our territory one last time," he chuckled. Jason followed, flooding my pussy with his load, then shoving me flat on the bed to clean him off. I did, slurping my own juices mixed with his seed off his softening cock, the degradation hitting its peak as cum dripped down my thighs onto the sheets. They zipped up, and left me there in the room—dress disheveled, face glazed, pussy leaking—telling me to "enjoy the new job" I fixed myself up as best I could, the satin clinging sticky to my skin, and ubered home, fingering myself to a orgasm while replaying the using.