The Woman On Steve's Lap

Marie watched. All of it.

Steve wielded the whip with a cool confidence that took away the cruelty of the act. The woman accepted it. Not a sound came from her lips, even though she had refused the gag that had been offered to her. Only the tension in her jaw and the moist glint in her eyes, which were fixed on Steve, revealed what was going on inside her.

Marie flinched with every hissing blow. And yet she was not disgusted. “Was that normal?” she asked herself. Am I normal?

Her European upbringing made itself felt emphatically. Consent, equality, self-determination. Keywords that she had assumed to be universally valid. The certainty that only a yes is a yes. These were immutable women's rights. Exercising **** without the consent of one's partner was **** and had to be punished. All of this raced through her mind. Intellectually, there was no doubt about it. Her feelings said something else. And her body had its own opinion anyway.

Marie could tell that Steve was not unaffected by his actions from the glistening bead of sweat trickling slowly down his temple and the clearly visible bulge in the front of his jeans, which was getting bigger and bigger.

When he finally released his victim's bonds, she sank to her knees—not out of exhaustion, but because she wanted to thank him. She hastily opened his belt and zipper. She almost looked like an addict wanting to get her next hit. As soon as Steve's freed cock sprang out, she let it disappear into her mouth.

Marie had to swallow hard at the thought of putting something so big in her mouth. The wet smacking sound echoed in her ears.

But Steve wanted to do anything else right now. With an ease as if she were just a doll, he lifted the woman up and carried her to the seating area. He sat down in the armchair opposite Marie, the woman on his lap. Marie watched with wide eyes as the American woman lowered herself and let his thick, erect rod slide into her pussy. He began to fuck her from behind with relish.

That was too much. Marie jumped to her feet and fled.

Only when she arrived in the conference room and the door closed behind her did she come to her senses. She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, smoothed her costume and put on a professional expression. A minute later, no one could guess what she had experienced – and, above all, felt.

She professionally paced the seats at the conference table. On her tablet, she checked that all the documents were available in the cloud for the delegation members to access. She sent a QuickMessage to her colleagues reminding them that the conference was scheduled to start at 1 p.m.

She glanced at her watch and was shocked to see that it already was almost 1 p.m. How long had she been in the side room with Steve? She doubted that she could have lost track of time so completely, but the facts said exactly that.

Only a few minutes left. Now she had to perform. Normally, that would have been a focal point she could concentrate on. Today, it was just an additional stress factor. She didn't have time to find a washroom and freshen up.

On top of that were the memories she wanted to repress. They weren't so easy to ignore. She couldn't do it when the tension in her body wouldn't subside. Her heartbeat was restless and wouldn't settle down. Her skin was more sensitive than usual; with every movement, her clothes rubbed against parts of her body that were incredibly irritable. The unpleasant wetness in her panties wouldn't go away.

She had believed that she could set boundaries that other people were not allowed to cross. Now she had to realize that these boundaries were less firm than she thought if she didn't defend them. She gritted her teeth. She would never accept that a display of power could corrupt her. Giving up her right to self-determination and freedom was not an option. And above all, it had nothing to do with sexuality. A self-confident, independent woman knew better than that.

No, she would never humiliate herself the way she had seen US women do.

But the doubt remained. It followed her like a shadow she couldn't shake off.