Perspective Revisited

This story is a sequel to my story "Perspective." It can be read independently. After the first story was published, it inspired some private correspondence with a reader. The story Perspective struck a chord with him, and reminded him of some of his own experiences. I wish to thank him for sharing these experiences with me. While this is most definitely a work of fiction, it is inspired by the true events related to me by this same reader. I hope you like it.

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Warnings: This story contains nonconsensual sex. It has elements of submission, with sex as domination. It is not a story for everyone. If this is not your cup of tea, you might want to skip this story altogether. That said, if you do read it, I hope you like it. Comments are welcome. Thank you.

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I had a rough day at work, and I was glad to get home. I had a business lunch with my boss and two other executives of the company: three old men, and me. By old, I mean at least 50, the age of my father (I am 25). I know that's no longer considered old, as we begin to live to see our 80th and 90th birthdays. But it seemed old to me.

The reason it was a hard lunch to handle is that I am not sure why I was included. It's true that there are few women at the company, and none at all who are executives, and I guess I am the closest thing to a female executive, being the highest rank below that of a vice president. Now that I think about it, that's probably why they included me.

Being the lone female, when the business was done, the men looked to me to continue the conversation. I might have been imagining things, but I felt as if all of the three men were mentally undressing me, and imagining me naked. I can't explain it; that's the way I felt. The easiest explanation is that I was right: they were mentally undressing me, perhaps even fantasizing about sex with me. It was creepy, but as long as they did not act on it, I was okay with it.

I had not known in advance of this lunch, and unfortunately, when I got dressed in the morning, I had chosen to wear a low-cut blouse. It was my last clean blouse, or I would not have chosen it to wear to work. The men seemed constantly to look down my blouse whenever they got a chance.

All the three men saw was at best my lacy bra, but since it is all lace, you can sort of see through it. So perhaps a bit of my areolas and nipples might have been visible when I leaned forward on occasion. On those occasions of my leaning forward, their eyes invariably - without exception - went down my blouse.

I excused myself to go to the ladies' room. Once safely inside, I looked in the mirror. I leaned forward, giving myself the view the men surely had. Yep: there were my nipples and areolas. No wonder they enjoyed looking down my blouse so much! I suddenly got randy at the thought that I had been a little on display to my colleagues, and even better, that all three of them were taking full advantage. Maybe that's why I did this? I really don't know why I did it, but I did. I undid yet another button.

Right then, I simply loved the idea of teasing the three men. They could not act on it, since I qas their employee, and it just felt deliciously wicked.

I gave myself another look when I leaned forward, and now the view was spectacular. I really got into the idea of teasing them, so I thought about leaving the button undone and returning to the table. Then I got even more wicked: Instead of undone, I left it poorly buttoned. It was on the verge of becoming unbuttoned, but it was still buttoned.

Back at the table, I could see the men looking at that button. If it came undone, they knew they would have a very nice view of my boobs. But it stubbornly remained on the verge, never quite coming loose. That's when one of the men, Aryan, got up, ostensibly to go the toilets. He pretended to stumble, and gave a tiny soft tug at my blouse as he almost fell.

That did it. The button came undone. Standing over me he could now see all of my barely hidden boobs, and he was not shy about feasting his eyes. I was surprised by how openly he looked down my blouse. I would have thought he would be embarrassed, or even ashamed, to be so blatant about.

I knew the other two men were jealous, so I leaned far forward and whispered, "I think Aryan's wine is going to his head. He nearly fell!" I giggled. The men smiled, their eyes going so far down my blouse they could probably touch my belly button.

After the lunch, as we all walked back to our building, my boss had his arm around my waist, and his hand occasionally slipped down to my ass. Obviously, I noticed. He was fooling nobody. It was inappropriate. I summoned up my courage (since, after all, he is my boss!), and I moved his hand off my ass. He handled it gracefully. Five minutes later, however, my boss's hand was on my ass again.

I again tried to move my boss's hand off my ass, but he used his arm strength to keep it there. I looked at him, and he looked back. I did not recognize the expression on his face, but I did not like it. I did not like it a bit. What had happened to him? What had changed? This was different than temporary inadvertent lust caused perhaps by my low-cut blouse and my lacy bra. At least I think it was?

So, it was good now to be home and away from all of that craziness. I collapsed into my armchair and kicked off my heels. I undressed, letting my clothes fall on the floor, as I walked to the bathroom to take a long, hot bubble bath. The warm water felt lovely. I brought a glass of chilled white wine with me to the bath, and I sipped it happily.

After the bath, I put on a terrycloth robe, and a towel around my wet hair. I padded off to the kitchen to refill my wine glass, when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was UPS delivering my Amazon order (which I eagerly awaited), I grabbed a couple of dollars for a tip and went to get the door, opening it up wide, automatically. It was not Amazon.

Standing there was a man named Brian and next to him was my boss Dan. I did a double take. It made no sense for these two men even to know each other. Brian had dated me once, quite some time ago. We went on a few dates, and when I refused him sex he became frustrated. He date-raped me. I got a court order so that he had to stay away from me, once I proved he was stalking me, too.

But Brian found three other men I dated and with whom I also refused to have sex, and they got together to gang rape me. After they all four raped me, they were worried about going to jail, so they decided to kill me. I'm serious, they were planning to cut me, take me out in the ocean in a boat, and let the sharks do the dirty work.

I was saved when they forced me to let them video a "happy gang bang," so that I could not get them arrested by claiming rape, since it now looked like we had all "enjoyed" a consensual gang bang on the video. I was so happy that they were no longer going to kill me, that I cooperated gleefully.

Since the gang rape, I moved to a secret apartment. I have been hyper careful, not letting anyone, anyone at all, know where I now live. I have even gone so far as to have a second address that is public, as a blind. The other address is the one in my employment file. How did Brian find me again? And why was he there with my boss (whose name is Dan)? What the fuck is going on?

I do have a boyfriend. He's great, and we've been dating for around two months now. I have hope that he will want a long-term relationship, maybe even children? I'm really happy right now, and I did not need this visit. Even my boyfriend Dylan did not know of this address. It's that secret!

"May we come in?" my boss asked.

"You can, Dan. Brian, however, is not welcome here. How did you find me?" I asked.

"Brian is the one who found you at this secret address. I'm afraid I must insist that Brian enter. This is important, Samantha," Dan said. I gestured for them to enter, trying to kill Brian by letting my eyes send out a death ray. It did not work. My death rays have never worked, but I still keep trying. Hope springs eternal.

Since they were now inside my apartment, I asked if I could offer them some wine? Dan agreed, and Brian insisted on red wine, so I opened a new bottle. Then Dan took red wine, too. I stayed with white.

"To what do I owe this highly unusual, and unexpected, pleasure?" I asked. Having the boss come to my home in the evening, unannounced, is just not done. Having Brian with him is unthinkable.

The men took their drinks and made themselves at home. I felt subconscious being naked under my robe, with my boss and my rapist both there. My hands were shaking, as I gave them their glasses of wine. It was obvious I was rattled. One thing I knew for sure: Brian plus my boss could not be good news. Whatever was happening, I was not going to like it.

At first the conversation was elliptical, always avoiding exactly why they were there. For example, my boss complemented me on the apartment, and the way I had furnished it. (I have expensive - and very good - taste.) I could see he was wondering how I could have afforded such luxurious furnishings, on top of a high rent. But for all he knew, I had rich parents (I do not; far from it!).

Then he said, "I believe your mother has health problems? The way you live (and he gestured widely, encompassing my apartment in the sweep of his hands) must be expensive."

I ignored his inappropriate remark. It was true, but it was none of his business. "Your parents have mortgaged their home to pay your mother's medical bills, and they are out of money," Dan continued. "It's lucky they have you to help them," he said.

I saw where this was going. "Brian, have you been inside my computer?" I asked. I knew Brian had advanced computer skills. He's sneaky, resourceful, and very smart. His brains were my initial attraction to him. His other personality traits, however, were ugly. Those traits were why I had tried (and failed) to deny him sex.

Brian smiled. "Samantha darling, if you want your address hidden, do not have Amazon deliveries made to it." He handed me the box I had been waiting for. As I took it from him, he said, "Here is your dildo, darling. Two-day prime delivery is great, isn't it?" I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and I knew I was blushing.

"You hacked my Amazon account??" I said, anger in my voice.

"Oh, honey," Brian said, "I've hacked your entire computer. You have no digital secrets from me. I know all of your online accounts, and since you even have a file with all of your passwords, I have access to your digital life in its entirety. And given the way you lead all of your life on the computer, you have no virtual secrets from me at all. Actually, you have no corporeal secrets from me either. From the looks of things, you still have a great body."

The creep licked his lips and looked directly at my breasts as he said that. My robe had separated a little, and the sides of my boobs were visible, I realized, by following his gaze. I quickly closed it and I tightened the sash.

I said, "My file with passwords is encoded. That tells you nothing."

Brain chuckled. He was enjoying feeling superior and tormenting me. "Sweetheart," he said, choosing a quite inappropriate moniker, "writing Mom+yob" for a password clue that is "Rebecca1972" is not very serious cryptography. This is 2017. It's the 21st century, sweetheart."

Now I understood. Brian knew. He had figured out, from having hacked my computer, that I had been embezzling in order to pay for my mother's health care, and, in passing, my gorgeous furnishings. I had made a file with the details of my crimes, but it was password protected. No doubt Brian had hacked the password.

It was more complicated than my Amazon password of Rebecca1972, but this was Brian I was dealing with. If he is determined then he lets nothing stand in his way, and he has the smarts to carry it off, too. No doubt the temptation of a special file that was password protected was too much to resist. I realized belatedly I had been an idiot.

Brian must know about Dylan, too. I am in deep trouble. Would he try to destroy my relationship with Dylan? I was thinking about murder right about now.

Brain had doubtless told my boss Dan about my crime. That's why they are here together. I'm about to be fired, and probably prosecuted. I'll end up in jail, and my mother will depend on the mercy of the medical system. That is, she will truly suffer. I could not bear that.

I must have shown my feelings in my face. I glanced in the mirror and I had no color in my face at all. I looked like a ghost. Brian smiled. He was relishing this moment, the fucking sadist.

"Dan and I now own you, Samantha. You do as we say, for as long as we want, and you will not lose your job, nor will you go to jail," Brian said.

"Also, Samantha," Dan added, "I will give you a raise, so you will not have to continue to embezzle from the company." There was anger in Dan's face, but he's not a sadist by nature. I guess he felt betrayed. Well, he was betrayed. I had betrayed him. It's not his company, of course, but he is, after all, my boss.

Brian had told him everything he had learned from my computer. And Brian had surely learned everything. He probably also read my diary, which was chock full of my sexual fantasies. The digital files on my computer tell the entire story of my life.

I am an idiot I realized, because after each affair with each and every man, including Brian himself, I confided to my diary, the way a girl might do with another girl, all the intimate details of the sex. Brian must now know exactly just how weird my sexual taste runs. It runs weird.

And what about my lover Dylan? What was I going to do? How could I continue with Dylan if I were to be "owned" by these ugly men? How could I ever explain this surreal situation to Dylan? How would he ever understand? It was hopeless. I knew that.

I apologized to Dan profusely, and I broke down in tears. The tears were real, not an act, and I could not stop crying. Sometimes men weaken when a woman cries. But not these two. No, I got no sympathy - none at all - from the two men. They just let me stand there and cry. I collapsed into a chair. My robe was separating again, but I was so upset I just let it separate. A lot of my boobs were on display.

Finally, I recovered enough to realize they had given me a way out. Since Brian was involved, it would doubtless involve some kind of perverted sex. I knew that. I liked perverted sex, or at least some kinds of it. But it had to be on my terms, with trust and affection involved. Not like this! I had to ask, nevertheless. "What do you want me to do?" I asked.

That's when I saw the essence of pure misogyny. Both men got evil smiles. When I say evil smiles, I mean a smile that reveals the basic core of the devil that is hiding in all of us, trying to surface. For most of us, it never surfaces, but we all know it is there.

Brian, however, wears it on his sleeve. He celebrates it. He revels in it. Now, with Dan, I could see that Brian was conjuring up the devil who was hiding inside Dan's placid all business superficial packaging. Lust was the tool he was using on Dan. Dan's lust for me, the young sexpot employee who was half his age.

Brian got up and handed me a shopping bag. "Wear this tonight. You will be hosting a poker game," he said. "We'll come at 8pm. Be ready."

Dan added, "Tonight is a test. Fail it, and we prosecute. Pass it, and we'll tell you what is next."

Both men rose. Brian went over to me and ripped off my terrycloth robe. I knew Brian well enough to know that I had better just stand there, naked and humiliated, rather than scream and run to another room, slamming the door. I covered myself with my hands and my arms.

Brian already knew my body, and he knew it well. But to be stripped naked in front of my boss? I felt humiliated. That was probably Brian's idea. Dan licked his lips. "See you at 8 tonight," he said, and both men left.

I looked at the clock. It was 6:30pm. I had 90 minutes before my life changed. I wasted the first 15 minutes sitting in my armchair and crying my eyes out. Then I decided to assess the situation. I could keep my job and get a raise? No prosecution for embezzlement? My word, that is outstanding! A great worry has been lifted. Really a huge worry is now gone.

Then I became sober. What are they going to ask of me in exchange? It's going to be something big, clearly. Brian is involved: it's going to be S & M. Sex, bondage, and punishment. Sex as punishment. Brutal, ugly sex. I don't know what Dan's style is, but that is most certainly Brian's style. I knew that from experience.

How would Dylan deal with all this? It would be a very unusual man indeed who would put up with it all. Was Dylan that strange? Not a chance. My dreams of a normal life, with happy children eventually, were going up in smoke before my eyes.

Shit. Double shit. This is beyond horrible. What's my choice? If I don't comply, I will go to prison, my income will stop, and my mother will suffer; maybe even she will die. I have no choice. I have no choice at all. Well, if I have to do something, I'll try to do it with a smile. Why the fuck not?

Eight o'clock came and went. I had eaten dinner, and had drunk a fair amount to get some liquid courage in me. I opened my Amazon package and put away my dildo. I won't be needing that. Indeed, I'm sure I won't need it: I will have plenty of the real kind, soon enough.

I dressed in their outfit. It was skimpy, shall we say. The important parts were covered, but not by much. My sexy figure was blatantly obvious. All subtlety was lost. As I waited, I wondered who was coming? What was I going to have to do?

The doorbell rang at 8:20pm. I had expected them to arrive at 8pm, but the 20-minute wait had rendered me a nervous wreck. I opened the door. The first face I saw was Brian. There is nobody on earth I hate more than Brian. Brian had a smug smile. I looked over at the other men: They were my lunch crowd: Dan, and the other two executives, named Mark and Aryan.

I had the table set up. Each seat had a beer, and there were munchies in the middle of the table. There was a new deck of cards, poker sized playing cards, in the middle of the table. I did not have poker chips, and I had no time to have run out to buy them. This was not a problem: the men played with actual money.

The men said hello and sat down and started the game. There was no small talk. The outfit Dan had given me to wear hid the essentials but not much else. It was a French maid's outfit, strapless and hugging my breasts, with a short, flaring skirt. It had tiny sleeves that bunched just after they left my shoulders. I don't know how Dan knew my shoe size, but he had included thigh high black leather boots. The leather was soft, and supple. I really liked the boots: they were keepers.

Stupid! I know how he knew my size for everything. Brian knew everything I did on line, all the clothing I had bought, everything. So clearly, he knew my size for everything, too. About the only thing he did not know was the purchases I made in stores, using cash. He even had my passwords for my online credit card statements. He knew it all.

If these men did not already have ideas to enjoy me sexually, the outfit surely would have suggested it to them. As I brought them drinks, the men would occasionally grab at my thighs. At one point Aryan said, "Why don't you stay here next to me for a while? Maybe you'll bring me luck?"

I looked at Dan, pleading with my eyes. He looked at me with hatred, and he said, "Do as you're told, Samantha." So, I stood there. Aryan's hand inched higher. I edged away, looking at Dan, and he shook his head. I just stood there. Aryan's hand reached my panties. I shuddered.