Pixie Isobella

‘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 my boss 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.’ Chapter 1 of Molly’s Cage is here.

Thank you for reading my stories!

Molly’s Cage will eventually be published as a novel. In the meantime, have you read Tatiana’s Awakening – an erotic novel with discipline and non-consent themes? Check it out on All These Roadworks and Smashwords.❤️

Molly’s Cage: Chapter 12

[Femsub maledom office erotica with non-consent, degradation, discipline and chastity belts. This chapter has medication themes]

My day was long and embarrassing, and what was even worse was that I knew Mr Hunter would tell me I had to do it all over again tomorrow.

He ordered me to be seated at my desk with my legs spread whenever he was in a meeting. My pussy couldn’t stop clenching and releasing, constantly aroused now not just by the dildo’s continual alien presence but also by the knowledge that Mr Hunter was watching me there. I was as though I could feel his eyes boring into me, watching my most secret place, and that turned me on in ways I didn’t even want to think about.

My day was so busy and I was never free of him. When he wasn’t in meetings, he was constantly sending me for files from the storage or getting me to photocopy documents or fetch him cups of coffee from the office kitchen.

I never got a break. I wanted to feel angry about that but underneath my anger at how unfair he was, I also felt a disturbing amount of pleasure. I felt warm inside from the knowledge that I was obeying Mr Hunter, I was serving him…

Maybe he will fuck me later, my body whispered to me, and I shivered in need at the thought.

He did not fuck me later.

Once the day was done, Mr Hunter sent me for the usual errand to fetch him a light dinner from a restaurant down the street. Then as usual I knelt at his feet, my short skirt hiked up around my waist, his hands absentmindedly groping my breasts while he ate and finished off some work.

‘You’ve been good today,’ he said finally, after about an hour’s work. ‘Less backtalk. This new treatment must be good for you. I must remember to keep you busy and under observation from now on.’

‘It’s humiliating,’ I said, forcing the word unwillingly out of my mouth. ‘Why do I have to do this?’

I flushed at my temerity — some part of me really didn’t want to speak back to him. It was easier — it was better — if I just stayed quiet.

‘I spoke too soon,’ he chuckled, squeezing one of my breasts with his whole hand. ‘I guess I can’t expect you to learn compliance in one day. And you have to do this, Molly,’ he emphasised my name, ‘because you’re still behaving like a slut. Look at yourself right now.’

‘B-but,’ I said, keeping my eyes lowered, while the more sensible part of my brain yelled at me to be quiet. ‘I’m only here, at y-your feet like this, because you t-told me to be here.’

Mr Hunter just chuckled, his hand stroking my breast squeezing harder.

‘If you weren’t at my feet, Molly, you would be at some other man’s feet,’ he said with finality in his voice. ‘You would be flashing your titties at him and spreading your legs for him. Letting him drive his hungry dick into you while you panted and moaned. I know what sluts like you are like.’

‘I’m n-not…’ I said, wanting to say I’m not a slut but Mr Hunter interrupted me.

‘You’re whatever I tell you to be, darling,’ he said, laughing again, his wandering hand still squeezing and stroking my boobs. ‘That’s the kind of girl you are. Speaking of which,’ he chuckled, reaching across to his desk to pull something out of a drawer. ‘I’ve got something for you. Something to help you be well behaved. Something to help you please me. Look up at me, girl. Open your mouth.’

I obeyed him, still flushing. I hated meeting his eyes when I was at his feet, half-naked like I was right now. It was easier if I kept my eyes down, on the floor, pretending that I was literally just the toy he treated me as.

Mr Hunter popped a white pill onto my tongue and handed me a glass of water.

‘Swallow it, Molly,’ he said, his voice firm. ‘Do as I tell you. It’s not the last thing — or the worst thing — that I’m ever going to tell you to swallow.’

He smirked down at me, innuendo rich in his voice, and I flushed hotly. I wanted to argue with him but I felt physically incapable of it. Not here, not like this, with my breasts spilling out of my tight shirt, my boob still in his hand, my crotch fully on display, my body begging to be fucked… So I swallowed, tears rising in my eyes at the feeling of the pill sliding down my throat.

‘Good girl,’ Mr Hunter said, his voice approving. ‘It’s a little something to help you obey. And it has some other, more physical effects as well. I’ll be giving you one every morning and every night. You’ll see the results in a few days, a week at most.’

I flushed, looking down again. I didn’t ask him what the pill was. I realised that I didn’t want to know. My pussy clenched around the dildo inside me, my cunt tingling in need, not just at the constant invasion but also — oddly — at my submission to Mr Hunter. I was turned on by just obeying him, at letting him just do something to me without me questioning or resisting it.

I was silent for the rest of the evening, as Mr Hunter packed up his work bag. He told me to tidy my clothes. I walked silently beside and a little bit behind him out to his car, fear rising inside me at my own arousal. Oh gods, I just wished he would fuck me already. I wanted so badly to lie underneath him, to feel him hard and hot inside me, driving into me while he breathed hard and roughly, gasping in pleasure.

My days drifted back into a pattern, and I hated how reassuring I found it. I swallowed the little white pill the following morning without question, and then again in the evening, and then again the following day.

I tried to be obedient and compliant, enjoying the warm feeling of satisfaction I received when I knew Mr Hunter was pleased with me. So I let him inspect me and medicate me in the morning, then I would sit at my desk, on display for Mr Hunter during all of his meetings. Then in the evenings, I always knelt at his feet, a sweet, gentle, compliant doll with boobs for him to fondle while he worked late.

‘Can you feel the pills working?’ he asked amused, one night about a week later.

I didn’t know why he was so amused but it was difficult to think anyway. His fingers were squeezing one of my nipples teasingly between his finger and thumb, while his fingertips ran back and forth across the sensitive tip. He had been doing this for so long tonight that the nipple felt raw and over-stimulated, and I wanted him to stop, but I also really didn’t want him to stop.

I swallowed, trying to work out how to speak. I was used to being silent with him by now, and I was so turned on by his hand on my breast, and the constant flush of arousal running straight from my nipple to my pussy, that it was hard to speak. But Mr Hunter just laughed when I didn’t answer.

‘Like that,’ he chuckled. ‘You’re quieter. More compliant. Just how I like you. You haven’t spoken back to me in days.’

I flushed at the truth of his statement, feeling trapped by my own feelings. On the one hand, I wanted to be angry at him. But, on the other hand, I felt that if I just relaxed a little more and obeyed him, maybe… Maybe he would touch me even more, maybe I would more often feel that warm rush of pleasure that I felt every single time that I knew beyond doubt that I had pleased him.

I couldn’t work out whether this new compliance was the pills or just me. Was I obeying Mr Hunter because he was drugging me with some kind of pacifier, or was I obeying him because I actually wanted to? I also couldn’t work out which was worse.

I tried to disobey sometimes and it never really worked, and then I always fell into the pattern of just obeying him again. I was so used to obeying Mr Hunter by now, and life at work was certainly more pleasant when I didn’t give him excuses to put me in my place, to tell me what a bad girl I was.

Please follow me for more stories! Chapter 13 of Molly’s Cage is now here.

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