‘If you were a good girl, well behaved, and modest,’ said my boss smirking at me, ‘we wouldn’t even be here. But I think we both know you’re not, don’t we? You’ve demonstrated pretty comprehensively over the last couple of weeks how slutty you are. Sluts don’t get to choose which men look at them, do they Molly?’ Chapter 1 of Molly’s Cage is here.
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Molly’s Cage: Chapter 11
The new miniskirt was so short that it felt even more indecent than usual pulling it up to my hips in Mr Hunter’s office for him to ‘inspect’ me.
‘That’s right,’ said Mr Hunter.
He was taking longer than usual over his inspection, while I blushed with humiliation, unable to see his face.
‘You’re keeping yourself shaven at least. Good girl. Learning your lessons, I see.’
Mr Hunter sat up straight, smiling to himself. He starting to organise his daily work on his desk, leaving me standing feeling humiliated in the centre of his office with my skirt hoisted up.
‘I’m glad you’re learning some lessons at least. You owe it to all men who enjoy you, Molly, to let them see all your charms. No hiding anything away.’
‘B-but I th-thought,’ I said, stammering, angry and nervous at the same time, ‘I thought the whole point was that you were trying to train me to be good, you th-thought I was t-too much of a slut, and you were t-trying to m-make me l-less…’
Too late, I realised how infelicitous my outburst was. All I was doing was providing him evidence in my own words that even I thought I really was a slut.
‘Can you be good?’ ask Mr Hunter, a mean look in his eyes as he looked straight at me. ‘I challenge you. Don’t think about sex at all today. Can you do that, Molly?’
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to convince him. Instead, I just bit my lip and stared at the wall, feeling humiliated and exposed.
I couldn’t stop thinking about sex or fucking. Not for a whole day. Not with the dildo inside me. Not wearing this uncomfortable chastity belt that rubbed constantly against my clit. Certainly not in this short skirt and tight shirt that emphasised how large and round my breasts were. Not after weeks of thinking about nothing but sex, all day, every day. Not after weeks of never being allowed an orgasm.
‘I thought not,’ said Mr Hunter, sounding satisfied. ‘I’ve got a new task for you today, Molly. Come over here and look at this.’
Feeling trepidatious, I walked over to his desk, my skirt still awkwardly, embarrassingly up around my hips. Mr Hunter put his hand on my bare butt while he showed me something on his screen and I flushed to feel him touching me so casually and intimately. As if I was his property to touch and stroke and caress.
I flushed even harder when I saw what was on his screen. It was a video feed from underneath a desk – my desk, I guessed. When I sat down at my desk, the angle of the video meant that he would be able to see my legs and crotch, in a constant live feed to his computer.
‘I want to know what you’ve been getting up to at your desk,’ he said sternly. ‘So I’m going to keep an eye on you from now on.’
‘B-but I can’t ‘get up to’ anything,’ I said angrily, unthinking. ‘I’m wearing this stupid belt!’
‘And just as well,’ said Mr Hunter suavely. ‘Who knows what you used to do at your desk all day before I made you wear it. I’m glad I caught you and put a stop to that.’
I flushed angrily, mostly at myself for being so stupid as to have been drawn again into his trap.
‘Today, and from now on, you’ll sit with your knees wide apart. I’ll be watching, so I’ll know if you don’t.’ He smiled condescendingly. ‘I’ll be watching with pleasure. I might as well get some recompense for disciplining you. I want your knees on either side of your chair so I can see everything that happens between them. Is that clear, Molly?’
‘B-but I c-can’t do that,’ I said, hating how I was complaining. ‘People will see!’
‘You should have thought of that before,’ Mr Hunter said sternly. ‘Your decisions have consequences, Molly.’
I wanted to scream at him that I wasn’t a slut. I wanted to yell that he couldn’t do this to me. He had no right! I knew I would lose my job if I yelled at him. Flushing at myself, I realised that it wasn’t my job I was horrified about.
I bit my tongue, realising that I didn’t even know what I would do if I wasn’t horny all day like I was at the moment. I had never felt quite so alive as I did at the moment. Oh gods, I wanted…
I flushed as I realised what I really wanted right now was for Mr Hunter to push me backwards onto his desk. I wanted him to fuck me hard and rough right on top of all these work files, thrusting ruthlessly into me until he came deep inside my wetness.
I blushed deeper as I saw Mr Hunter watching me, a knowing smirk on his face. I didn’t know how, but he could tell what I was thinking.
‘Put your skirt down, girl,’ he said, running his eyes down my body for one last look. ‘You haven’t earned my cock inside you yet. Go sit down at your desk and get those knees open for me. I’ve got a long board meeting starting in ten minutes and I want some entertainment. I’ll tell you when you can stand up again.’
The morning was torture. I left Mr Hunter’s office and sat down in my desk chair, feeling humiliated and embarrassed. I shouldn’t obey him. I knew I shouldn’t. I couldn’t believe Mr Hunter was going to spend all morning watching up my skirt, between my legs.
Flushing hotly, trying to ignore the fact that I knew he would be watching, I spread my legs where I sat. However much I tried to ignore it, I knew that right now, in his office, Mr Hunter was watching and sniggering his pleasure at being able to see under my skirt where my thighs met the rough leather of the chastity belt.
I tried to work but all I could think about was Mr Hunter watching me – an all-day impersonal ‘inspection’ that could go on for as long as he wanted. Even more embarrassingly, I was so turned on by knowing he was watching me.
The dildo’s constant presence inside me meant that every so often I would rock my hips as if fucking, a slight but visible unconscious, unplanned movement. I knew Mr Hunter would see it, and sure enough, when he finally came out of his office after his long meeting was over, he was sniggering down at me with a superior smile on his face.
‘Just as well I’m keeping you under observation, my little slut,’ he said quietly, his eyes fixed on my spread knees showing me exactly what he meant. ‘But you did keep me entertained.’ He chuckled again. ‘I’ve sent you a schedule. Those are my meetings. I expect you at your desk during all of them, so I can keep an eye on you. And for my own entertainment, of course.’
‘This is humiliating,’ I said, hating how my voice sounded petulant. ‘I’m meant to be doing my job. N-not…’
I broke off and Mr Hunter smoothly filled in the gap. ‘Yes, you are meant to be doing your job, aren’t you, Molly? That’s what started this in the first place. Your inability to keep your legs shut. Your insistence on displaying your charms for anyone to look at.’
His eyes met mine with a firm, unbending gaze and I dropped my gaze to my desk, defeated again.
‘Yes,’ Mr Hunter said. ‘Now, do you have any more disobedience for me this morning?’
‘No, Sir,’ I said softly, wondering how I had gotten myself into this and why I couldn’t seem to get myself back out.
‘About time. Go fetch me a coffee from down the street. Then get me the files for the Sloane meeting. I need you back here at your desk in twenty minutes.’
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Chapter 12 of Molly’s Cage is here.
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Pixie Isobella 