I don't see my boss again for a whole week - which is ironic, given how often his cock is in my mouth. The gag that covers my mouth is invisible but can be sensed as an oily second skin. It's too intangible to be actually scratched away or otherwise removed, and there are times I almost forget it's there. There are times when I see my husband looking at my lips and I think he's about to kiss me, but then I remember he hasn't kissed me once since learning about the gag.
Because, of course, it's no ordinary gag. It's a gag that leaves my mouth entirely unobstructed most of the time, but portal technology allows my boss to claim my mouth whenever he likes. To use as a sex toy, of course. What else would you use cutting-edge technology for.
It was my husband's idea for me to try to steal the technology, but I was stupid enough to agree to his stupid plan. I was caught and my boss gave me a choice between being handed over to the criminal justice system (which would, no doubt, involve years of just waiting for trial, followed almost inevitably by more years in prison and fucked-up job prospects thereafter) or wearing the gag. Forever.
I blame the slowness of my wits on my general state of panic at the time. Mostly I worried about being able to breathe, about being able to eat and drink and kiss and, even, suck my husband's cock... Oh, cruel and bitter irony. The gag allows everything, being so insubstantial in its inactive state that you would not believe it there at all. I could, indeed, suck my husband's cock if he wished me too, but he is terrified the gag will activate while his cock is between my lips.
And he will not kiss me, for fear of tasting another man's cum there.
He will, however, watch with fascination as my unseen mouth is used by an unseen cock. He will stand there staring at me and stroking his cock while my elsewhere boss fucks my throat. He has set his morning alarm to six-fifty just so that he can be awake and ready at five past seven. Regular as clockwork, that is the first time each day my boss activates the portal. I'm usually still in bed, still half asleep, when the portal forces my mouth open and an erect and urgent cock thrusts into my mouth.
There's no sleeping through that, and even if I could, my husband's fingers pressing roughly at my pussy, stroking my clit and testing to see how wet I am, would certainly wake me. "Suck that cock, you dirty slut," he growls, as if I have any choice in the matter. My mouth is a sex toy for another man to use.
I used to like him calling me that. A bit of roleplay never hurt anyone, but now he says it with anger and his fingers are so impatient they hurt me. And he no longer kisses me. My husband fucks me with savage passion as I struggle not to gag as my throat is fucked by a man who is not him. My body welcomes this brutal use, but I can't deny a building resentment. I can't suppress the bittersweet delight in his revulsion at seeing another man's cum on my lips and in my mouth.
My boss has made a whore of me and a cuckold of my jealous husband, and part of me - the same part that used to love being called a dirty slut - wants to take it further. If my husband will not love me the way he should, then let him watch as others use my body.
But one week after that fateful day, my boss is back from wherever he was. The note he left for me on Monday said only 'Confidential Client Meeting - Back Friday', leaving me to fend off dozens of confused telephone calls from a hundred different people. But it's Friday now and he's back and has spent the whole morning on the phone to those same hundred people. He has pointedly said nothing about the fact that I've sucked his cock maybe twenty times over the course of the past week.
And he never replied to my cheeky message about portal panties. I've been kicking myself about that ever since. Really, it's bad enough that he can use my mouth whenever he likes. What would it be like if he owned my pussy as well?
Would my husband ever dare fuck me again, knowing that a portal might open while his cock was within me? Knowing that my pussy was wet with another man's cum?
The dirty-slut part of me is excited by the idea. The rational part of my mind? Not so much. I would gladly return to the way things were before. To having a husband who loves me and kisses me and with whom I get to enjoy being a dirty slut without feeling like a whore.
It's mid afternoon when he calls me in at last for a 'private and personal' discussion. I take a seat opposite him, eyeing him nervously as he regards me coolly. "I want," he says at last, "to give you a chance to reconsider the agreement we made last Friday." He's a handsome man and well dressed, and clearly used to authority. I have always admired him as a boss, while also feeling a little intimidated by him. I'm not, however, particularly attracted to him. It's very strange to look at him and think about his cock in my mouth. "I can remove the gag, if you wish, and let the criminal authorities handle the matter, as indeed I should have done."
He's asking me to choose between his use of my mouth for whatever deviant purpose he may delight in, or to have my future stripped away from me. It's still an absurd choice, but I won't be able to pretend any longer that I didn't give my fully informed consent to being a willing sex toy.
What an utter bastard.
When I don't answer immediately, he unlocks his phone and shows me the message I sent him. "Interesting that you should ask about portal panties. We do have some in development, and maybe you'd like to test a prototype once they're ready. There would be a substantial bonus for you if you did."
I keep my mouth firmly shut, but can tell by the heat in my cheeks that I am blushing.
"What we do have," he adds, "is a portal bra. As an official product tester, you would, of course, get a significant salary increase, but you would have to agree to wear it permanently, as with the gag."
My cheeks are practically burning. My boss is offering to pay me for the use of my breasts as another sex toy.
"Would their use," I dare to ask, my voice breaking with nervousness, "be limited to yourself?"
My boss blinks. "I'm not sure what you're suggesting, but I can assure you the company will want to perform a wide variety of tests with the portal bra. Being a product tester is a full-time job, with aftertime."
"I'd need to see the contract," I say, hardly able to believe what I'm already sort-of agreeing to.
"Of course," he says. "Take an hour to think about it."
He dismisses me, but I don't even make it back to my desk before the portal gag activates and his cock fills my mouth. It's an open-plan office and there's no hiding from my co-workers the void where my mouth should be. I wonder how many of them know exactly what my mouth is being used for.
It's impossible to concentrate on work, but I pretend to. My fingers tap aimlessly on the keyboard as my tongue and lips do what they have become so very accustomed to doing. I wonder what it would be like if he were fucking my tits instead, or if someone else were fucking my tits while he filled my mouth with his cock.
An e-mail arrives with the contract. I scroll through it, unable to focus on the words. The salary increase is significant, but to be honest, I don't even care. I want to do it. I want my husband to know my breasts belong to the company, and that one day my pussy will too.
I wait until my boss is coming deep inside my throat, his cum jetting out straight into my belly as the blood pounds in my ears, before signing the contract electronically and sending it back to him.
"Excellent," he replies. "Report downstairs to R&D for fitting."
*
The technician who fits the invisible bra is a young woman, which I find reassuring. "It's probably best if you wear a wire-reinforced bra on top," she says, "to maintain the appearance of breasts at all times." She lifts my breasts one at a time and runs her fingertips just below the inframammary fold then up around the sides, almost including my neck too.
I'm not a lesbian, and her touch is strictly professional, but the intimacy of her touch and the subtle oiliness of the portal material are almost erotic - although perhaps it's more my awareness of what this is likely to mean. "It will take a few hours for the portal device to properly calibrate to the size and shape of your breasts," she says. "It's a bigger challenge than the human mouth, especially since we designed that primarily as an aid to remotely and safely administer food and medicine."
Not as a sex toy, then, although clearly it works well for that purpose. "And the portal bra?"
"The original concept was to allow new mothers to continue breastfeeding after returning to work." Her delivery is so matter-of-fact. There's no indication in her expression that she knows there's no intention of using my breasts for that. "We'll begin testing on Monday," she says. "You may experience some sensation prior to that as the device adjusts to your body."
She checks the device with a handheld scanner for a few minutes, nods with satisfaction, and says, "All done. See you Monday - well, your breasts, anyway." There's a glimmer of a smile as she says this, enough to make me blush at the thought of my breasts being displayed here in the lab while I'm at my desk upstairs. The whole thing is so wildly improbable, so utterly absurd, I wouldn't believe it for a moment if I hadn't been living that improbability for the past week.
