Tech support

Vanessa stared in horror as Brand finished up his adjustments to her office computer.

Her walk in had been bad enough. Brand had been by her side the whole way, and she... the fucking battered housewife... the whatever the fuck he was turning her into... the shame she felt at every greeting, every familiar face that gave her a second glance, that smiled at her and then stared at the back of her head as she walked away was soul crushing.

She got hit in the eye playing tennis. A hard serve, and she had been distracted. Very clumsy of her, she said laughing. She had carpooled with Brand, only. Nothing further, he needed a ride. They worked on the same floor so they were walking up together. Nothing there, just being helpful. Those were her stories. She smiled. She wanted people to ask her about her appearance. She didn't want to volunteer her lies, to explain unprompted. She almost did, once, almost blurted everything out after a short greeting where she felt her female colleague's eyes linger. Vanessa could feel the desperation behind the act before the words left her mouth. She clamped her lips shut dumbly instead.

The lie about Brand had probably been much more unbelievable than her stupid tennis ball story. His staying by her side at every moment, his usual outgoing self, hardly helped that image. She doubted she fooled one person with that tale, of the few people she had an opportunity to relay it to.

Even though Brand hadn't contradicted Vanessa outright, his roguish grin said all it needed to say. It said 'conquest'. It said that he had nailed Vanessa, had banged the intelligent, attractive older black executive until she couldn't walk right.

She could walk right, but only with effort. Between her violation by rough ice cubes and Brand's rough ass fucking, her butthole still hurt that much.

His smirk might even have said that her tennis ball story was bullshit. It might have said that he smacked her, and she was still walking beside him. It was hard to tell. It made Vanessa's head hurt trying to make believe her story was real, to try to get herself to believe it was real and fake her responses while Brand was by her side. She had once thought that she was a pretty decent liar when she needed to be. That was before yesterday. Now she wasn't sure that she was, or ever had been. Today, the once-confident Vanessa wasn't sure of anything.

Cheryl certainly hadn't believed that Vanessa's coming in with Brand at her side was innocent. Not after catching Vanessa disheveled, stained, and smelling of cum and arousal the previous day. After seeing them leave together. But she must have believed the tennis ball story - after her initial sympathetic shock, and thankfully she had asked Vanessa about her black eye instead of letting its presence fester in the air between them, she stayed warm towards Brand while they greeted each other. Too warm, really. A little flirty, even, considering what she thought she knew about her boss' relationship with him.

Some of Vanessa's ire went Cheryl's direction before she curbed it, let it go. It was just how the foolish girl acted around his type. She didn't know what Vanessa knew, didn't know better.

Vanessa had left Brand at her door, and resisted the urge to scream when she was finally alone, to tear apart her office and sending the paper cluttering her desk flying into a blizzard. The fantasy was there, but Vanessa sat down in her chair, calmly. Still calm, she unbuttoned her top a little and took the panties she had smuggled out of her blouse, and hid them away in her desk, feeling like a fool. She sighed, rubbed her brow, and started organizing her thoughts - her professional thoughts. As much as she had to worry about, just in terms of her career, it was a blessed distraction. It was normal.

She hadn't had much time for normalcy. Brand came back, not ten minutes later. Cheryl - her voice all fun girls-together smiles over the phone, told Vanessa that he was waiting outside her door. After a moment of agonized silence, Vanessa trashed the tempting idea of telling Cheryl to simply send him away.

And now he was explaining to Vanessa the next level of imprisonment she would have to endure. She was sitting in her ergonomic leather office chair, looking at the sleek, expensive web camera now mounted on her monitor. He snapped his fingers in front of her staring eyes.

"Are you with me, Ms. Lockley?" Brand lightly rapped Vanessa's head with his knuckles, making her wince. "Anybody home?"

"I can hear you, Brand." Vanessa's eyes didn't move. Brand roughly grabbed her chin, adjusting the angle of her head. He grabbed her breast through her layers of clothing, moving her heavy orb in large circles. Vanessa looked into Brand's eyes. She relented, "Yes. I hear you, Mr. Barrington." Her last sanctuary had been snatched away. He was with her all the time now. He moved a few programs from a USB drive he had plugged in, and began installing them. Brand put one arm around Vanessa's shoulders, prompting her forward, bent so he was close to her, and began his tutorial of her new applications.

"I'll be monitoring you throughout the day from your camera. I'll be able to see you, but you won't see me, and won't know for sure if I'm watching or gone. I'll also be able to hear you, and will keep recordings of those moments I choose, and only them. You will keep your camera on until I fetch you at the end of the day, or tell you otherwise. I will be able to send and receive messages from this other window, here..." Brand was using his finger to point and Vanessa's mouse to lead her through the adjustments he had made to her workstation. She nodded numbly, head spinning at the implications... at the control that Brand was now capable of exerting over her even when she was nominally alone.

"... It's encrypted, and has anti-screenshot technology. Further only one word will be visible at a time, you have to scroll over each word individually to reveal it and get any message I send." Clearly Brand was still wary of Vanessa trying to turn his game around, to trap him, to get him in a position where he would have as much to lose as she. He should be, the bastard. "The messages will be automatically destroyed after reading." He wasn't relenting, he was escalating, and Vanessa's privacy just shrunk to the smallest of windows. The executive bathroom, maybe.

"And back to your camera, this here," Brand clicked a button, "Allows you to see yourself, as the camera sees you." A little square viewing screen popped up on her monitor. Vanessa saw her worried brown face, with her dark eye, pop up onscreen. Brand's was next to her. She couldn't resist meeting eyes with the tiny camera lens, coldly staring at her. Brand clicked again, and the window expanded. Vanessa could see every detail the camera saw. It really was high quality.

"Seeing yourself will allow you to make sure that you're giving me what I ask for. Let's try it, shall we?" Brand stood behind Vanessa, and using the camera for guidance he started unbuttoning her blouse. Vanessa's hands clenched her armrests. It was worse than she imagined. She could see exactly how she looked, how defeated her beaten-up face and eyes really appeared when Brand began undressing her, revealing her to herself. To them both - Brand was looking into her eyes too, through the monitor. She could see all that, but still she couldn't look away. The camera held her eyes. They stared at one another.

In her head, Vanessa couldn't resist a little pun. Her computer 'monitor' just got a little bit more meaning. She laughed, briefly, and saw herself laugh at herself with her damaged, haunted eyes. Her new mirror mocked her. Brand gave her image a strange look, right before he rolled up her push-up bra and let her heavy tits drop. Vanessa didn't feel like laughing anymore. Not that she ever did. Brand stroked her breasts briefly, letting the image play out for her - his strong white hands against her delicate... and now that she saw it closely, her perceptibly bruised brown breasts.

Brand unzipped his fly. Behind her, his cock strained against his boxers. He unleashed it. It sprang to attention beside her face. Its purple, bloated head looked at the monitor, at all three of them. Vanessa still couldn't look away, as her eyes stayed focus even as she turned her head.

Her traitorous eyes stayed on herself as she kissed the side of Brand's shaft. As she licked it side to side. Brand turned his own hips to face Vanessa, and lightly gripped the back of her head. The black woman went down its length, and back, hypnotized by her own image. With her tits hanging out she swiveled her chair, and took Brand into her mouth again, giving him as good a blowjob as she could manage. She kissed and sucked and slurped like a whore. Going deep, and taking it back, sucking on balls, his head, minding the whole thing, making love to Brand's cock with her mouth. She saw what she looked like, what Brand saw.

What she saw was awful.

But she didn't, couldn't look away until she was finished, and she saw herself **** down the earthy goop that came out of Brand's testicles.

Brand patted her head, and left. Vanessa breathed. She looked dully at her schedule.

She had a meeting to attend in thirty minutes. At least he hadn't fucked her throat this time, or cum on her. The way her last twenty four hours had been, Vanessa was stupidly grateful for that. The black executive repositioned her bra, buttoned her shirt back up, and wisely sprayed a shot of perfume on her smuggled panties before putting them on. She spent a moment wiping up some of her own goo - that had formed between her thighs, and that had dripped on the back-inside of her skirt.

She had a meeting to prepare for.