Savage Ruin

He appears rather foolish, tied up and silenced in that office chair.

I can't help but question what he was thinking, summoning me to his rescue. 

It makes me wonder if he had any inkling that my arrival could come at the cost of my own freedom or my own life even.

He only needed to secure those investors' signatures on the contract, a simple task. 

But my husband couldn't resist playing big man on the scene, wining and dining them for far too long.

He should have known better.

His boss doesn't just fire people; he eradicates them, unless they possess something of value he desires.

This is precisely why I find myself here, tasked with saving my husband's skin.

His boss, wearing a sinister smile, gazes at me and then shifts his attention back to my husband.

With a sense of purpose, he approaches my husband and double-checks the restraints to ensure they're secure.

Confident that my husband cannot escape, he signals for his henchmen to depart with a subtle nod.

He strolls past me, casually removing his jacket. I've been instructed to sit on the desk directly facing my husband.

From this vantage point, I can distinctly perceive the blend of anger and fear in my husband's eyes. 

As I gaze at him now, I understand that he never wished to involve me in this situation. 

His boss left him with no alternative.

His boss returns, pausing to gently cup my chin in his hand.

I instinctively lower my gaze, but he softly yet firmly requests that I meet his eyes. 

I comply with his command, though I despise how much he relishes this situation.

Still, there's a glimmer of hope that perhaps my husband and I might leave this place alive tonight.

My husband's forehead glistens with sweat.

He's acutely aware of the monstrous depravity of his boss. 

I see genuine fear for me in his eyes, and it's evident he's also terrified for himself.

If the dreadful tales are true, we both realize that neither of us will exit this place as the same individuals who entered...

His boss instructs me to take off my panties.

In compliance with his request, I get down from the desk and proceed to remove my panties while doing my best to keep my gaze steady on him despite my trembling.

I stand here, panties in my hand, unsure about what comes next.

His boss takes them from me and presses them to his face, inhaling deeply. 

Then, with ease, he casually tosses my panties behind him onto my husband's lap.

My husband whimpers and casts a despondent glance down at my panties.

His boss grins with a wicked smirk and then politely asks me to return to sitting on the desk.

I obediently comply and settle back on the desk's surface.

Nonchalantly, his boss approaches me and crudely pulls my knees apart, shamelessly exposing me to my own husband.

I refuse to let tears fall, even though my face is flushed to the point where my cheeks might ignite into flames.

His boss seizes my face with a firm grip, his cool hand contrasts with the burning warmth of my skin. 

He delivers a passionate, deep kiss to my mouth, his tongue delving inside as if daring me to resist or pull away.

Amidst the intense moment, faint, anguished cries escape from my husband.

I can't help but wonder whether this man is driven by his desire for me or fueled by my husband's distressed whimpering.

His boss descends to kneel before me, and I discreetly steal a glance at my husband.

The remorseful look in his eyes is evident, but I quickly avert my gaze. 

I won't allow myself to cry, not here, especially not in front of his boss.

His boss emits a pleased moan at the sight before him. 

Slow and with reverence he plants kisses on my inner thighs.

My husband whimpers once more, this time louder.

His boss pauses…

I quickly give my husband a warning glance, accompanied by a subtle shake of my head.

My husband appears surprised but then looks away as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

Because of my husband's shoddy business dealings, I am now in the possession of the man between my legs, at least for the present moment.

We both have no choice but to accept this circumstance if we want to ensure our survival.

I'm oddly relieved when his boss's kisses continue.

He spreads my legs wider, giving way to the soft, moistness of his tongue.

I tilt my head back, my gaze directed at the ceiling, not in pleasure, but to go inward and prevent myself from losing my sanity during this ordeal.

I take a deep breath.

As I lower my head, I catch sight of my husband, whose face now reflects complete resignation.

His boss licks more intensely, leaving me uncertain how to respond.

I glance anxiously at my husband, who gives me a slow, sorrowful nod. 

A single tear trickles down his face.

I shift my gaze downward, fixing it on the top of his boss's head. 

My fingers find their way into his hair, eliciting an appreciative moan from him.

He gently nibbles my pearl as if to reward me for my efforts.

I release my grip on his hair, and he stands. 

He turns his attention to my husband, licking his lips provocatively. 

Then, he pivots back to me, taking me into a passionate kiss.

I can taste myself on his tongue.

I squeeze my eyes shut to shield myself from the explicitness of it all.

He abruptly ends the kiss and takes a step back. 

With heightened arousal and growing impatience, he begins to unbutton my shirt, resorting to tearing it down over my shoulders after the third stubborn button.

Then, with a savage grip, he yanks open my bra, breaking the front clasp.

The force causes my breasts to bounce free of their constraint, further inciting the inflamed passions of his boss.

  

His boss leans in lustily suckling my breasts.

I make a conscious effort to avoid looking at my husband.

My arms are restrained by my shirt, leaving me utterly helpless as his boss forcefully seizes both of my breasts in his hands and presses them to his lips, bestowing passionate suckles and light toothy nips upon each breast in succession.

I find myself wondering just how long he has desired me.

To my chagrin, I involuntarily emit a moan, a reaction that only fuels his desire…

He gradually comes to a halt, casting a sly and knowing glance at me.

He orders me to remove the rest of my clothes.

I awkwardly scramble off the desk, hindered by my restrained arms.

By the time I've managed to free myself and fully undress, his boss has fetched a chair and positions it squarely in front of my husband.

I can discern the sheer horror in my husband's eyes, and we both share a grim understanding of what lies ahead.

His boss removes his belt and takes a seat in the chair.

He motions for me to come to him. 

I comply.

Standing before his boss naked, a shiver races down my spine, and my chest tightens with each passing second.

His boss speculates to my husband that I must be an excellent cock sucker. 

Then he orders me to kneel.

I can sense my husband's fury, a silent, raging storm behind me.

Tears stream silently down my face as the situation turns surreal.  

A nightmare from which I desperately wish to awaken.

Panic surges through me.

I'm torn between the instinct to flee and the compulsion to conform.

Yet, despite the maelstrom of emotions churning within me, I find myself complying with the command.

I'm aware of the dire repercussions that come with displeasing his boss.

I kneel before his boss, my head bowed, an unintentional gesture of obedience that feels like a betrayal of my own dignity.

In a low yet commanding tone, he instructs me to unfasten his pants and retrieve his cock.

The room around me seems to blur. 

Every movement is laborious.

My hands tremble as I face the task of unzipping his pants.

I cling to awareness as I extract his semi-soft cock.

The command to suck his cock pierces my fog of disbelief.

His words drag me back to the harsh reality of the situation.

Tears burn down my face as I clutch his thick cock in one hand and feebly begin to suck.

A faint and sorrowful sound emerges from my husband.

His boss goads me with depraved encouragement, urging me to display more zeal.

Closing my eyes, I attempt to envision him as my husband, seeking solace in the illusion amidst the extreme discomfort.

Pushing through the humiliation of it all, I perform with more vigor.

As I continue more intensely, I sense his boss taking great pleasure in my service.

His cock becomes harder by the second.

Amidst a tumult of shame and guilt, I find, to my own surprise, a sensation where my body seems to betray my inner turmoil.

I'm wet.

His boss sits back, his gaze locked with my husband's, a bold, unflinching stare, as I continue to perform with feigned enthusiasm.

As lengthy minutes stretch on, his boss finally reaches down and gently lifts me from my knees and assists me back onto the desk, where, with a sinful leer, he wrenches my legs apart.

His wicked gaze is still on my husband as he moistens two fingers in his mouth and then inserts them into my wet pussy.

My face burns with shame and embarrassment as my body once more betrays me, shuddering at the intrusion.

His boss withdraws his fingers, holding them up conspicuously before my husband, a silent but potent revelation of my body's betrayal.

The uncertainty of how my husband and I will recover from this ordeal looms over me, a question mark casting a long shadow on our future.

The situation takes an even more traumatic turn as his boss instructs me to use my tongue to clean my essence off his fingers.

Along with his additional directive, to maintain eye contact with my husband during this lewd task.

The room closes in around me.

Compelled by the unfortunate circumstances, I obey.

I lift my eyes to meet my husband's.

His eyes, wide with the pain of the moment, lock onto mine as I start, but it becomes too much for him. 

Eventually, he turns away, seemingly unable to bear the sight.

Initially, shame torments me, but as my watery gaze remains fixed on my husband, I observe that I'm not the only one grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and unwelcome desires...

The outline of my husband's hard cock protrudes through his pants.

Regrettably, I'm not alone in my awareness.

The sound of cunning, light laughter reaches my ears before I catch sight of the malevolent grin.

He taunts my husband, asking if he appreciates the view. 

My husband remains silent, his gaze steadfastly averted.

His boss loosens his pants the rest of the way and they fall to the floor.

 His cock is rock hard against my thigh as he forcibly kisses me again right before he enters me.

He moans and squeezes my neck tightly, pushing me back onto the desk.

I collapse back onto the desk's hard surface, my hands limp at my sides, my body besieged by the moment's intensity.

His boss holds a leg in each hand as he brutishly fucks my pussy.

Despite my efforts, uncontrollable moans escape my lips, a raw expression of the overpowering sensations coursing through me.

This involuntary display of mine only fuels his boss's fervor.

He fucks me even harder, deliberately turning at times to ensure my husband has a clear, unobstructed view of him slamming into my pussy.

When my husband continues to resist watching the obscene display unfolding, his boss threatens to bring in his henchmen for more than just a view.

His threat compels my husband to finally look, prompting his boss to throw his head back in hearty laughter as he continues to violently fuck me.

Despite the crushing weight of degradation that hangs heavily upon me, I find myself teetering on the brink of orgasm.

In a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of dignity, I reach for my discarded shirt, pressing it against my face in an effort to muffle the orgasmic sobs that threaten to escape.

But even this tiny comfort is swiftly taken from me.

His boss snatches the shirt from my grasp and carelessly tosses it towards my husband.

As I lie here, exposed and vulnerable, his boss, now wise to my impending climax, begins to taunt me.

His taunts are a cruel game, a vulgar display of power meant to push me to my limits.

He tells me how beautiful I am and how excited I make him.

He confesses, his voice tinged with a mix of triumph and desire, that he has yearned for me since the very first moment he laid eyes on me.

He continues to urge me with fervent words laced with a deep-seated desire for me to cum all over his big cock all while ferociously deepening his strokes and maintaining eye contact.

And I do.

I cum so hard on his cock. 

My body shutters and convulses as the powerful release surges through me. 

I nearly lose touch with my surroundings.

It courses through my entire body, leaving me breathless and limp.

As I descend from the heights of my orgasmic apex, reality strikes me like a blow to the face.

His boss gazes down at me with the most revolting, lascivious smile I've ever encountered.

This time, I can't conceal my repulsion. 

In a heated reflex that even I didn't anticipate, I slap him across his loathsome face.

My rebellion against his malevolent authority is met with low, sinister laughter. 

Without relinquishing his hold on my legs or slowing his pace, he simply shakes his head in response to my actions.

Fear courses through me, leaving me trembling with terror.

Silently, He tears his maniacal gaze from me and turns his focus towards my husband.

He mockingly inquires if my husband enjoyed watching what he compelled me to endure.

Then, with deliberate cruelty, he vividly describes to my husband how he intends to bring our encounter to a climax.

The situation escalates rapidly as he abruptly grips my arms and yanks me off the desk with a force that leaves me breathless.

The world seems to spin as I land hard on my knees.

The shock of the transition from desk to floor leaves me disoriented.

As I kneel there, trying to regain my bearings, he issues another command, his tone brooking no dissent.

He commands me to lift my breasts for him, insistent that I maintain eye contact as I comply with his directive.

I tearfully comply.

I hold my breasts up for him as an offering.

With loud sighs, he jerks his cock aiming for my breasts.

As he reaches his peak, his eyes bore into mine, unwavering.

His spurts hit my chest, neck, and breasts.

I don't dare look away.

As his boss regains his composure, he sternly orders me to remain on the floor, reasserting his control over the situation.

I remain on my knees, motionless.

Suddenly, his boss grabs my husband's chair, wheeling him before me with a startling abruptness.

The sheer madness of his action jolts me, adding a new layer of shock to an already nightmarish scenario.

As my husband comes into view, an utter sense of despair envelops me.

The instructions from his boss reach me through a dense fog, and my mind struggles to process them.

It's as though I have been reduced to an object in this man's twisted game, stripped of my humanity.

He directs me to suck my husband's cock.

Emphasizing that I should not cease my efforts until every single drop of cum has been devoured.

I look to my husband, seeking some form of connection or comfort. 

I find him avoiding eye contact.

As I extend my hands toward my husband's zipper, I catch sight of the outline of his cock bulging through the fabric of his pants.

I raise my eyes to seek his again...

This time, he meets my gaze, and I can't tell if it's love or lust in his eyes as I spring his cock free and begin to suck…