Adding insult to injury

Vanessa came back from her meeting frustrated. She had been unable to use her preparation time effectively - feeling Brand's eyes on her through the webcamera, waiting for a message from him, her mind turning and turning on her physical and mental anguish... and shameful confusion. Once in the meeting she had felt better. Awkward about her appearance, but still less distracted, focused on the task at hand and she had enough to be able to wing her part just fine. But Vanessa liked to be prepared for her work; improvising wasn't the way she liked to operate. She walked slowly, not wanting to return to the no-longer-safe place that was her office, and slowed further as she turned the corner that allowed her sight of the thick office door. Her heart leapt up and choked her for a moment as she saw a tall male figure, then relaxed.

It wasn't Brand, thank god. It was... Vanessa struggled for a moment. She knew the exceptionally lean man at her door. Dark hair, pale skin, sunken eye sockets that contrasted with the large orbs of his bugged-out blue eyeballs. Tall, dark, and a decent stone's throw away from being handsome. Who was he again? Vanessa tried to recall as she drew near, Brand was making her brain so scattered, she should know...

Cheryl saved her, bless her. "Ms. Lockley, Mr. Bullock is here to see you. Said he'd wait until after your meeting."

Timothy Bullock. Vanessa placed the man in front of her. Good schooling, good family, good connections, and a weak employee. Every employer of TAC's size had a few high-level men like him somewhere, in a prestigious, but ultimately useless place where they'd be unlikely to bother too many people. They were a burden of the connections that made the grand machine spin, a necessary evil.

He was still, on the surface, worthy of Vanessa's attention if he had been waiting.

She greeted Timothy and shook his hand. It was awkward - his hand was clammy and he grabbed her fingers rather than her palm, and shook far too firmly considering the positioning of his grip. Vanessa smiled professionally and invited him into her office.

"What can I do for you, Timothy? Or do you prefer Tim?" Vanessa didn't get an immediate answer. She really didn't need this. "Or is it Mr. Bullock?" Vanessa laughed falsely, "Sorry if I'm a little informal, but since we are all on the same team..."

"Umm, Timothy." Timothy's pronounced adam's apple bobbed nervously.

Vanessa hoped her smile was warmer than she felt inside. "Timothy, then. How can I help you? As you can see," Vanessa gestured broadly at her overburdened desk, thankful for the first time for the papers burying it, "I'm quite busy, as I'm sure you are too..." As much as it was a joke, men in Timothy's position did like to pretend they were busy.

"Is your eye okay?" The awkward man blurted. He had been staring, Vanessa realized. It was hard to tell, since it mostly looked like he was looking her in the eyes. 'Is it okay' - it was a black eye. What a fucking jackass, as if Vanessa wasn't as ashamed about it... about everything...

"It's fine, I just got hurt playing tennis, Timothy. How can I help you?" Vanessa repeated, and moved behind her desk to start arbitrarily rearranging the papers atop it, emphasizing her point of having work to attend.

"It's good to, um, finally meet you Ms. Lock-, uh, Vanessa. I've seen you around the office but I... we never have really had business together. I was there for a couple meetings, you, um, always looked good - I mean, you always looked like you knew what you were doing. At the meetings I mean," Vanessa was finding it hard to maintain her pleasant front at Timothy's inane rambling, "I was, uhh, talking to Brand, and..."

That name turned Vanessa's bored annoyance off. She feigned disinterest, and after the briefest of nervous pauses continued clearing her papers. She wouldn't get mad. She wouldn't reveal anything. She would listen. This might even be a good thing... probably not, but...

"He said that you and he were playing a - a game. That you had agreed to do a, uh..." Apparently his words failed him at that moment. Instead Timothy fumbled with his phone, and turned it to Vanessa. She leaned forward, eyes focusing on the little screen. Timothy tapped it.

Her own dripping, abused face stared at her, her voice played for her.

"My job... at TAC... is to swallow dick..."

Vanessa almost threw up on the spot. She eyed her garbage can, preparing to move quickly if she couldn't contain her stomach.

Brand had actually shown that video to...

And Timothy was waiting, looking questioningly at Vanessa.

As if he actually expected her to respond...

"So, umm, does that mean...?"

Respond by...

"Shut that off. There's been a mistake. It's private. Get out." Vanessa's sentences were clipped, but as level, as professionally calm as she could make them. She had to get in touch with Brand, somehow get on damage control. This wasn't...

Timothy nodded his head agreeably, and backed away toward Vanessa's door. "Uhh... yeah. Okay. Sorry, then. I thought that it seemed a little... but, umm, I'm just supposed to let you know, that if you, like, don't want to... Brand said something about getting Gerald and Williams - Big Williams, you know, Scott Williams, in here next..." Timothy's tight smile was apologetic, like he hadn't been the one to come into Vanessa's office, her space, with that disgusting video, implying she was to perform on him. "... and then he said that if you said 'No' to them too he'd message, uh, Tom and D- "

"Wait!" Vanessa could see the pattern forming. It was unacceptable. Even more unacceptable than this. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. "Wait. Just..." It kept rising. Kept coming back. Vanessa swallowed it again. "Just give me a second. Lock the door."

Timothy's trembling hand turned the lock on the handle to the heavy door behind him. He turned back. "So... you're serious?" Timothy looked at the pretty black woman in front of him with barely-contained excitement in his bulging, froggy eyes. "You'll seriously do it?"

Was she serious? Was she serious!?! Vanessa's anger flared, replacing the bile she had **** herself to swallow. Timothy's very lack of poise only made it worse. This stupid, scrawny, pale-ass motherfucker had stalked her, waited for her, come into her office, threatening...! Vanessa was fuming.

This was too much, even after what she had been through - that was personal. That was between her and Brand, for them alone to work out, for her to deal with. She dealt with him. Took this shit from him, and only when she had to. Not from fucking Timothy Bullock, a man completely beneath her notice - anyone's notice that took their job seriously. For Brand to really expect - to send in this twerpy, lanky schmuck... to let him too have control over her...

That wasn't the deal. It - this simply wasn't fair!

Timothy looked excited as a schoolboy. Jesus, how **** was he? He was a little goofy looking, but there were worse looking men in the world, and he made plenty of money. He couldn't be this... this fucking amateurish about sex, could he? He practically bounced over to Vanessa. She backed up, as far as she could go, completely put-off, wondering how Brand had put her in a position where she was even contemplating -

"So... you're going to suck my dick, right?" Timothy asked.

Did he really need confirmation?! For fuck's sake! But Timothy, after already showing her that video, doing his part to coerce her, to **** her, having run up to her bouncing like an idiot, and more in her personal space than Vanessa would ever have previously fathomed allowing him, had paused. He was actually waiting, like he couldn't believe...

Vanessa couldn't look him in the eyes. "Yes, Timothy. I will... do that." Just get this over with, Vanessa. "Just drop your p- Mmph!"

Timothy, in a moment of surprising, completely unwelcome boldness leaned forward and planted his open mouth right over Vanessa's, mid-sentence. His tongue breached her lips, worming its way in. His hands found her skirt, pressed in, and lifted, bunching it up and revealing the skin of her smooth, clean-shaven brown thighs. Vanessa was taken so by surprise that it took her a moment to disengage, to push back against Timothy's chest.

"N-" Vanessa had to turn her head, squirming, to avoid another slimy tongue-filled kiss from invading her mouth, "No kissing."

"Oh... I..." Timothy looked into Vanessa's eyes. He looked embarrassed, and a little hurt. Vanessa couldn't have cared less, except after a moment his eyes got a little harder, "You're just all about sucking it, huh slut?"

What the fuck did he think this was?! Despite her humiliating, compromised position Vanessa was becoming almost as confused, as completely and totally flabbergasted at Timothy's bizarre attitude as she was angry. Her bewilderment took her out of the moment long enough for Timothy to continue hiking up her skirt, yanking it around her ample hips so he could **** her pantied buttocks.

"Please, Timothy..." He slid his hands under Vanessa's underwear from her backside, wrapping his way between her thighs, and spread the tender flesh within. Hard. Her scent - from her erotic morning shower, her earlier blowjob, and maybe just a little even Timothy's molestations found the opening he made in the side of her panties, and hit the air.

Timothy backed off for a moment, face wrinkling at the sudden release of the musk of Vanessa's arousal, "Holy shit, that's strong. Don't you wash down there?!"

How dare he! "What?! I - I wash every day!" Vanessa couldn't avoid... she blurted out... she sounded so stupid! But she was extremely hygienic! It was just... "I've just been doing..." Doing what? What was she going to tell this dickwad about her recent activities? Vanessa shut her mouth, humiliated.

"No, it's just... maybe black women smell different..." Vanessa almost squawked in indignation at Timothy assigning the sudden and unexpected release of Vanessa's scent to a judgement of her entire race, "Or, like, more powerful. I've never been with a black chick before..." Timothy's eyes lit up again. Vanessa couldn't have been more repulsed than she felt at that moment. "I kinda like how it smells." He re-evaluated Vanessa's aroma, and moved in for another kiss!

Vanessa, completely flustered, didn't know what to do anymore. She was just trying to give this guy a blowjob!

Jesus, was that what she was trying to do? Was that what she was reduced to? It was. It really was, and in her state she didn't even protest when the insulting, repellent white man in front of her leaned in and smooched her beautiful thick lips, **** his gross, slimy tongue in her mouth, and... removed her panties, removed her protection, letting them drop to her ankles after they went over the curve of her hips and black butt.

Timothy held her close, manipulating her butt, he even stroked her... down there, stroked her hairy flower with his hand. It was rough. Everything was rough, especially his crude, boyish kiss. Vanessa felt like he was trying to jam his tongue down her throat, trying to lick her fucking tonsils. She whimpered in disgust, which Timothy appeared to take as a sign of approval, because he - he stuck a finger inside Vanessa.

She had to get him out of her. Out of her mouth, and her vagina. She couldn't take it. She was going to snap, really snap, really go crazy. Vanessa leaned back, pushing Timothy away gently. She moved fast, before she would have to listen to more of his asinine talking or complaining, she kissed his lips, quickly, and then his neck. He finally, thankfully, withdrew his bony, squirmy finger from inside Vanessa, and she pushed him back so his rear was against the edge of her desk.

Vanessa trailed her hands firmly down Timothy's front as she sank to her knees, honestly trying to seduce him in an effort just to keep his mouth shut, to gain control of the sex act she would have to perform. She put her naked, dark thighs together once she was down, and felt that thing between her legs squish, and a little warm shiver move its way from her loins to her sickened stomach.

She couldn't really be getting aroused by this could she?

It... it was natural, Vanessa told herself, as she unbuckled Timothy's pants, trying her best to keep the loathing she felt towards Timothy, herself, and what she was about to do off her face. It was just her body, preparing her for sex. Lubrication, to avoid getting damaged. But why... time and again... was it like this? It was so shameful, so humiliating that she... no not her. It wasn't her. But her body... it kept getting turned on by these vile experiences. Vanessa worked her hands, tugging at Timothy's pants, freeing Timothy's hard member. She couldn't stop from squeamishly screwing her eyes shut as she stuck her hand into the dark space of Timothy's trousers and finding... It. Something warm and hard, and she dragged it out of that dark hole so she could slurp and suck on it.

Vanessa opened her eyes, and saw it. She half-expected Timothy to be small, the way he acted, the way he had approached his encounter with Vanessa.

It wasn't huge. It was slim like the rest of him, and quite crooked. But it wasn't tiny either. It looked at her, and bobbed. A bead of precum greeted her, a taste of things to come. Timothy gripped the back of the black woman's head, and pulled her stiff, unwanting neck and shoulders and head closer, pulled her towards it. Vanessa opened her plump lips, and took him in her mouth.

"Ohh yeah," Timothy tapped the back of Vanessa's head with his fingers. He pulled her in a little deeper. "I can't believe this is really happening."

Vanessa couldn't believe it either. It was a nightmare, and it wasn't ending. She opened her jaw wide to avoid scraping Timothy's bent shaft with her teeth as it curved into her cheek, poking and stretching the supple flesh of her face from the inside.

"Mmph!" Vanessa groaned around Timothy's dick as it speared her cheek more, warping her face, bulging. He seemed to enjoy the pressure on his head sliding against the inside of her wet mouth, and Vanessa **** her aching jaw even wider to accommodate him.

"Wow, you really are a cock slut." Vanessa looked up hatefully. Timothy was looking down at Vanessa, his bugged-out eyes lusty and satisfied. She looked down again, sick to her stomach, and concentrated further on making his crooked member feel good, so that she could end this.

"You love this, don't you?" Vanessa kept her eyes down, kept working. "Touch yourself, stick a finger in. Show me how wet you are sucking my dick, slut." In his position of control over her, all traces of nervousness had disappeared from Timothy's voice. It was like the dignified professional woman had empowered the lame, goofy moron by kneeling and sucking on his dick. Timothy grabbed her head, and began going a little harder, "Do it. Do it slut. Show me."

"Do it, yeah, do it. Do it bitch. Do it cunt. Yeah, stick it in there. Do it..." Timothy was lost in his own rhythm, in his own little universe where he was a real man, with real power. He wasn't letting up, and Vanessa, after hearing him tell her to 'do it' for what felt like the hundredth time, with his dick invading every corner of her mouth and gagging the top of her throat, gave in and put her hand between her legs. She stuck herself, with two fingers, and masturbated for Timothy. "Oh, fuck yeah. Show me bitch. Show me what you've got for me. I wanna know what you've got next time I see you in a meeting, or around the office." Vanessa groaned. How could she continue... she would see him again, at the workplace, fully dressed... smirking at her...

Eyes down, Vanessa raised up the fingers she had used to violate herself, and showed Timothy their slick lengths.

He seized her hand, yanking it up, and bent down. He... uggh! He sniffed! He smelled her fingers, long and deep. "Aww, yeah, that's that black-girl smell." God! Could he be more... more... just eww! Fuck! Even Brand, for all his ****, his tricks, his layers of multiple humiliations, his slick smarts, his outwitting and outplaying and outright hurting her, hadn't made Vanessa feel this thoroughly disgusting and slimy on the inside. And the only thing she could do was slurp and **** on Timothy's malformed prick even better, to end this sooner. Vanessa took him deep, working her tongue.

"Oh... oh...oh..." Timothy was making an almost comically classic orgasm face. He gripped Vanessa's hair. She prepared to take his spunk down, to accept the nasty taste and texture. It was almost over, at least, and then she could figure out -

"Ahh!" Vanessa felt a hard tug on her hair, and Timothy's dick popped out of her mouth. No!

It was too late, he began spurting viscous, gray-white, smelly goop all over her face, angled all in one direction out of his bent hose. It happened so fast, she hadn't been prepared, it - Holy Shit that stung! Some got in one of Vanessa's eyes - the puffy, darkened right one, and it burned like crazy. She gasped at the fierce pain, like red pepper stuck on her eyeball. She teared up.

"Aww fuck, that's hot!" Timothy groaned out his release all over the face of the female executive beneath him.

Hot?! Timothy's cum had just ruined Vanessa's face! Her hair! And Jesus her eye felt like he flicked a burning ember into it! Vanessa struggled weakly, but it wasn't... it was too late anyway, over, and Timothy was still gripping her hair. She hardly wanted to rip a chunk off her scalp when this was almost over.

"Fuck yeah. I wish I had known what a slut you were before." She hadn't been a slut before. Vanessa didn't know what she was now, though. Maybe she was a slut. She felt like one, the most disgusting sort of slut, covered in semen, dripping with shame. Timothy started putting himself together, zipping and buckling his pants. Vanessa didn't even know where to start putting herself together. She kneeled, unmoving. Frozen.

"I guess I should have known, the office nigger would be the office whore too."

Everything went red. Vanessa didn't feel her eye stinging anymore. Her body felt weak, cold. Then strong, hot.

"What did you call me?" Vanessa asked quietly. She didn't care that her face was covered in semen. She must have been a sight. She didn't care.

"Uh... Um..." Timothy tucked in his shirt. Vanessa got to her feet.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" She wrapped her hand around Timothy's tie. She yanked. His froggy eyes bulged out even further. He looked afraid of the fluid splattered, bare-bushed black woman in front of him. Positively terrified. Vanessa released him, and pushed his shoulders. She made a space for him to retreat and pushed him again. Timothy stumbled back, trying to fix his own tie from **** him, from the tight position she had left it in.

"Get the fuck out of my office. Get out. Now. Right now. Get out or I'll stuff your crooked little white pecker down your throat."

Vanessa pushed Timothy one more time. She clenched her hands by her sides. She didn't stop staring down Timothy until he was at her door, unlocking it.

Timothy turned, and had a moment of true bravery.

"B-Bitch," Timothy muttered towards the woman he had just defiled and insulted, and then hastily exited.

Vanessa's shuddering breathing slowly started coming down, and her adrenaline tapered off, taking the red haze that was her entire being for those short moments with it.

The feeling of righteous rage was gone. Timothy was gone. There was nothing left but Vanessa, alone with herself. She started taking stock of where she was... what had happened... what Timothy had called her... and what she looked like.

Vanessa ran to her trash can. This time she really did throw up. There was little left in her stomach besides Brand's diluted semen. It tasted terrible. She looked at the monitor, her face covered in tears and masculine filth...

She wondered how hard Brand was laughing at her. She finally pulled down her skirt and threw away her panties, wrinkled and soiled as they were with her wetness and inadequate perfume. Luckily she kept some bottled water in her office. She badly needed to rinse her mouth and flush out her bruised eye.