Kasey's Confession Ch. 22

My crying and self-pity was interrupted by Mr. Masters knocking on the bathroom door. He was knocking lightly, but enough to demonstrate that while he wasn't angry about me running off, he wanted me out of there.

"Give me... a minute," I sobbed.

He waited while I washed my face and tried to wipe away my tears. I picked the stilettos up on the floor where I'd thrown them and put them back on. I wanted to walk out and try to act like everything was just fine. Yes, I'd found out Erica had made amateur porn movies with Chris and other people, and unless Mr. Masters was lying there was more than just the one. She was trying to convince me that she couldn't even kiss me as long as she and Chris were together, all the while she was carrying on in home movies with multiple men and women?

I was horrified, but I was also done with her. I was done with her as well as with Marci and anyone associated with them. There wasn't anything I needed to prove to anyone, especially not Erica. She was the biggest slut of them all.

"I'm sorry," I told Mr. Masters after emerging from the bathroom. "I know the woman in that movie, the hot blonde, and she always used to tell me crap about not cheating on your boyfriend and being honest and then I see that..."

"I turned it off," Masters said. "I knew something about that movie was upsetting you. She was a friend of yours?"

"No one special," I lied. "Just someone who thought she was better than other people, but she's just as much a liar and a slut as everyone else."

"I would absolutely LOVE to fuck her," Mr. Masters said. "That pussy of hers is so hot, even after so many poundings, I would just love to do her. Any chance you could help me out?"

At first I wanted to hit him, but I didn't have the strength, and I was resigned to the belief that Erica was a liar who had jerked me around for two years professing love for me and a code of honesty and fidelity. My heart was breaking, and I wasn't going to defend the woman who was breaking it.

I said nothing, and Masters shrugged and said, "Well, I've watched eleven or twelve different guys fuck her, so it's almost like I already have fucked her, you know?"

I again felt like screaming at him to shut up and not talk about my beloved Erica that way, but I couldn't do it. I was becoming more naturally submissive to men, especially when I was dressed, and the reality was that he had watched her in so many porno movies putting herself out there like a piece of fuck meat that I couldn't really condemn him for his raunchy sentiments about her.

"Why don't we forget about the movie and the girl and get back to the reason I came over?" I said, realizing I had a perfect opportunity to change the conversation. "Wouldn't you rather fuck me?" I asked him as I turned around and bent over in front of him.

"Well, that's a horse of a different color," he laughed. "Look at that sweet, tight faggot ass. I would not mind pounding that one bit."

"One condition," I said slyly, feeling a sudden rage of inspiration, "whenever I suck you or fuck you or anything at all, I want you to call me 'Erica,' okay?"

"Why?" he asked stupidly.

"That's her name," I said and knelt down to kiss along the length of his hairy thigh, "the slutty blonde in the movie. That's her name."

"Mmm," he said as he watched me kissing my way up his thigh to his crotch, where I began slowly devouring his balls. "You've got my kind of dirty mind, Erica. Lick those balls, Erica, lick those balls and suck my cock, you slut."

It was a completely new high and got me more turned on and eager to please than I ever had been before. I went down on Mr. Masters with newfound enthusiasm, and he could see how much calling me "Erica" was exciting me, so he continued.

"You suck a great cock, Erica," he said as I went down on him and bobbed up and down on his cock while looking up into his eyes. "Suck it, slut, suck it real good."

He stopped me and then made me stand up. Then he hit the "play" button for the tape so it began playing again. The younger woman was going down on Chris while the "daddy" man was fucking Erica mercilessly, pounding his cock into her perfect pussy while he grunted and she moaned loudly and begged him "fuck me harder... HARDER!"

I couldn't bear to watch, but at the same time I couldn't look away. Mr. Masters stood behind me, groping my ass through my shorts and then reached around to unbutton them and started yanking them down along my thighs and then let them drop to my ankles after they passed my knees.

"You have a great ass, Erica," he said, and I was uncertain if he was talking about me or Erica on the tape, because the man was turning her over so her ass was in the air. The man on the tape then began groping her ass in the same way Masters was groping mine.

Masters pulled down my panties and I kicked them, and my shorts, away so they were no longer around my ankles. He reached into a bowl next to the couch and pulled out a condom, which he quickly unwrapped and pulled down around his throbbing cock.

The man on the tape was rubbing his cock along the crack in Erica's ass, and Masters was doing the same with me. As the man began entering Erica's ass from behind, Masters did the same with me. When Erica moaned as the man pushed into her, I did the same as Masters pushed his cock into my ass.

The man had Erica over the arm of the sofa, and I watched them intently on the screen, tears filling my eyes. Masters pulled me towards the couch and threw me over the arm of it and began to enter me again, able to much better penetrate me than when I was standing and crouching down to grant him entry.

"I love your ass," Masters said as he pushed his cock so that the head popped into my asshole. Pushing down on my back to bring my ass up higher, he pushed even harder so that the shaft of his cock began roughly penetrating me. There was no lubricant involved.

He fucked me roughly and I sobbed openly and loudly, still watching the scene on the television screen as it went in for a close-up of Erica's beautiful ass and the big cock that was splitting it and pounding her poor little asshole as hard and fast as Masters was pounding mine. Eventually, my sobs turned to moans and screams as Masters kept fucking me and calling me "Erica."

As Masters was about to cum, he pulled out of me and ripped off his condom. His semen shot across my back and he loudly moaned, "Damn, you are a great fuck!" before slapping my ass hard several times and then saying very plainly, "Get dressed and get out of here. I need to get to a meeting."

My ass was incredibly sore, but I gathered up my things as quickly as I could. I put my panties and shorts back on, cleaned myself up in the bathroom, and after a struggle got my socks and sneakers on, picked up my travel bag and came back out to the main room.

"I'll be wanting to see you again," Mr. Masters said with a smirk. "You are a wonderful slut, so eager to please, and that crying is such a turn on."

"Thank you, sir," I said as I realized I still had tears in my eyes despite no longer crying vocally.

There were so many thoughts swirling around in my head that I didn't realize, or care, that I was driving back to work in my shorts. When I walked through the front door I drew stares from the receptionist and others gathered in the area, but I was so numb with thoughts about how I'd gone to a hotel room to let a client of the company fuck me, and the shocking revelations about Erica, I thought nothing of it.

"Keith, honey, get in here," said the voice of Diane, the office manager, who was standing outside her office glaring at me.

"Yes, ma'am," I said quietly before following her into her office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped at me after closing the door behind us.

"Ma'am?" I was genuinely confused.

"When you come to work in this office you come to work dressed professionally. No matter what you are doing outside of this office, when you come here you are dressed appropriately. Am I making myself clear?"

The realization hit me suddenly. With my mind as preoccupied as it was, how I was dressed hadn't even been an afterthought. Once Diane pointed it out, I felt suddenly ashamed and embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't think," she said. Diane walked around me like a drill sergeant inspecting her troops, shaking her head and fuming.

"I can go home and change," I said. "Please don't fire me or write me up."

Diane laughed. "You have become too valuable for that. Mr. Masters called me right after you left and said he was 'very pleased' with you. He's very interested in seeing you again."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Damn though, you have legs most women would die for," she said with a smile. "In all the time you've worked here I never imagined you could be such an asset."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Mr. Womble has heard about the work you did today keeping an important client satisfied," Diane said, referring to the company president. "He'd like to thank you personally, however with the way you are dressed, showing up like this, I'm not sure I should allow it."

"I can go home and change and be back in a half hour, ma'am."

She kept pacing back and forth in front of me, looking me up and down. "Do you have fucking glitter on your legs?"

"I use a lotion that has glitter, yes ma'am."

"Do you even have balls, Keith? You are the sorriest excuse for a man I've ever seen. You shave your legs and go to the tanning salon and put glitter lotion on yourself and prance about in those shorts with your ass hanging out of them and you are supposed to be a man?"

I choked on my words, unable to respond as I felt myself starting to cry again.

"Oh Lord, you are pathetic," Diane sighed as she saw me getting choked up and the tears welling up in my eyes. "You're not a man, you're a pathetic, dick sucking sissy crybaby."

My hands and knees were shaking, and as much as I tried to keep it together I couldn't. I began sobbing openly, and when I tried to talk, I could only mutter the most pathetic excuses and apologies imaginable. "I don't want to be like this," I cried.

"Oh, you poor thing," she said in a tone of voice meant to mock me. "Do you wish you were a real man? Do you wish that when you play pretend dress up like a man that you could actually be one? With legs like you have, and that ass getting fucked in hotel rooms in the middle of the day, there isn't much chance of that."

I looked down at the floor silently and said nothing. There was a knock on the door and shortly afterwards it popped open.

"Diane? Are you busy?" asked the voice of Mr. Womble, the company president, from the doorway.

"No, Mr. Womble, come on in," Diane said. "Close the door behind you, please."

Mr. Womble came into the office and closed the door. He walked over towards me and looked me up and down for a moment before speaking.

"Is this the one who is helping us keep our contract with Masters' firm?" he asked Diane.

"Yes, this is Keith," Diane said.

"Keith? Are you supposed to be a guy?" he laughed. "With glitter on your legs and shorts like that?"

"I like to be called Kasey, sir."

"Masters said you liked to be called 'Erica,' which seems more appropriate to me."

"If you like, sir."

I couldn't believe how pathetic I sounded or how pathetic I was. It seemed unnatural to not say "sir" or "ma'am" after addressing someone. I didn't dare question or challenge anyone who put me down or mocked me. After seeing what a slut Erica really was, all of my resistance to becoming the submissive sissy I truly was melted away. I had fought it because of the hope I had of being with Erica, but since that no longer seemed possible, and since she had lied to me and misled me, and now I was no longer fighting.

"So, let me ask you again, Erica. Are you a man?"

"No sir, I'm not a man," I said through my tears.

"I've heard the rumors around the office, and I know you showed Masters a good time. And, I must admit, I'm a married man with children at home, but the idea of having you suck my cock is pretty appealing to me right now. What do you think about that?"

"I'll do whatever you want, sir. I would love to please you."

Mr. Womble started laughing. "What exactly do you do for us normally? I know you work down in customer service, but what exactly do you do down there?"

"I take commercial orders and respond to customer questions and complaints..."

"Taking orders?" he chuckled. "That sounds about right. I have an idea for a job you'd be better suited for. We have that warehouse out on the other side of the city where we keep our major inventory. We have two guys out there usually who oversee the place and move inventory as needed, that sort of thing."

"Yes sir, I know about the satellite warehouse."

"Good, because I want you to head out there now in your cute little shorts and see Tyrone and Jerry out there. Tell them I'm setting you up in the second floor office to take over the computer inventory and all that jazz. That will be your new job."

"Sir, are you sure? It seems to me they've always handled everything themselves."

"Are you questioning me, cocksucker? You are going to go out there and do this job for the company, and you are going to be available for special jobs when Diane calls you about them, and if the boys out there want any special services from you, I think you know what to do. Those boys have been working out there together for the past ten years and they need a little something special."

"Yes sir," I said, looking at the floor and watching my tears fall and hit the carpet.

"If I know those guys, they are going to tear that cute ass of yours up," Diane told me. "I've heard those two are hung like horses. Have you ever tasted dark meat, Keith?"

"No ma'am," I admitted.

"Oh, sugar, that is about to change in a big way," she said with a big smile. "Go clear out your desk and get out to the warehouse. Scoot!"

When I went to my desk and started clearing it out, putting all of my personal things in a box, everyone in the office stared at me. I could hear whispers and a couple of misplaced giggles, but other than that everyone just stared at me or pretended not to notice. I said nothing to them, as I tried to be quick about getting my things together, but as I stood in my short shorts with my shiny legs glistening, tears streaming down my face, it wasn't easy to make a quick and quiet exit.

When I got to my car, I beat my fists against the steering wheel, sobbing while I said, over and over, "This is out of control, this is out of control." I knew it was, but I was more upset that I liked it being out of control, that I liked being made to feel like a slut, and that I liked the ridicule.

Then I threw my head back against the headrest and groaned, "Erica, why? Why did you turn out to be just another person using me?"

I was disappointed and upset, but I couldn't really be angry with her. She wasn't doing anything any sluttier than I was. She might be, in Mr. Masters' words, "the queen of double penetration," but I had sucked off six men at a party and I had, just the night before, sucked off three men, including letting Tony's huge cock throat fuck me.

And then I had arranged to give another man head the following morning after making him breakfast.

I knew I couldn't afford to lose my job, and I drove out to the warehouse and tried to hold it together. When I got there, I wiped my tears away and picked up my box of belongings and walked in through the front door, trying to act as casual as possible.

Tyrone and Jerry were two very large, very strong, black men who ran the satellite warehouse. They basically ran their own show and I'd been out to the warehouse a couple of times for work related issues, but it was very rare to do so.

"Whoa, what's up," I heard Jerry say after I walked in.

"Mr. Womble sent me out here," I said, trying to sound businesslike. "He wants me to take over the computer inventory and tracking and all that."

"What the fuck for?" Jerry asked. "Ty and me have been handling that for the past five years."

Tyrone came into the front office of the warehouse wearing a tank top and basketball shorts. "Hey, its Kasey the cheerleader," he said after seeing me, "the skinny white faggot who got turned out on Halloween. What you doing out here in those hot pants? Looking for trouble?"

"Womble sent him out here to do the computer shit," Jerry told Tyrone. "That's some bullshit."

"We've handled everything for five fucking years out here," Tyrone spat. "Why the fuck they be sending your fairy ass down here to do shit already being handled?"

"I don't know. I just do what I'm told."

"Skinny ass white boy in hot pants wanna do what he told, eh?" Tyrone laughed and slapped Jerry on the back. "You thinking what I'm thinking, Jerry?"

"I'm getting some kind of idea."

"So, you trying to run one of us out of a job, hot pants?" Tyrone asked me as he circled around me muttering "mmhm" as he looked me up or down. "You trying to put one of us on the unemployment line?"

"No sir," I said while looking down at the floor. "Diane and Mr. Womble told me to come out here and take over the computer part of the warehouse."

"So, they think we can handle the grunt work but not the fancy computer shit? Are we supposed to be stupid or something? Maybe we can't even figure out how to turn the computer on? Maybe you think we're just a couple of dumbass—"

"Give him a break, Ty," Jerry said, pushing Tyrone away as he circled closer to me so that I could feel his breath on my face while he ranted at me.

"I'm really sorry," I said as I stood there with my knees shaking. I was terrified of these two men who were physically superior to me.

"Sorry?" spat Tyrone. "You sorry you out here trying to steal one of our jobs? Or maybe you think you can do both our jobs. I don't think your faggot ass could handle stacking a pallet or unloading a truck. You think you can do that?"

"Ms. Diane said to come out here and do the order entry or whatever on the computer system, but I won't be out here for the whole shift. She wants me to go out and entertain clients and things like that but she just doesn't want me around the office."

"Is that right?" Tyrone and Jerry both folded their arms in front of them and looked at me sideways.

I swallowed hard and said, "Mr. Womble said I should be available to both of you if you want any, um, special services from me."

"You mean like sucking our dicks?" asked Jerry.

I swallowed hard again. "Yes sir, I believe he meant special services like that. He said he appreciated the hard work you both do out here and sent me to show his appreciation. I don't think he meant for me to replace either of you."

"So, you our bitch now?"

"Yes sir, I'm your bitch now."

After that, I began taking orders from Jerry and Tyrone without question. I went out to the store and bought them soda and chips with my own money and even opened the bag of chips for them when told to. I washed their cars out in the parking lot and came back wet and covered in soap suds, to which they remarked "no chance of this bitch winning a wet t-shirt contest" and laughed at me.

It went on like that through Friday, when I asked them if I could go out to lunch. They didn't seem to care, but I always asked their permission before leaving or doing anything shy of going to the bathroom.

I'd always met Erica for lunch on Fridays at the mall. Even though I was in short shorts, which I always wore to the warehouse, and I had a pair of pants in the car along with other outfits in case I had to entertain Mr. Masters or another client, I didn't change before going to the mall. I didn't want to hide my legs. I spent a lot of time keeping them smooth, tanned and sexy. I wanted to show them off and I didn't want to be ashamed of who I was or what I did any longer.