Subjugating Sarah Ch. 05

"I think maybe..."

Josh's hand slapped my face as quickly as the words left my mouth. Pete grabbed my hair, getting a girly squeal out of me, and Mark spanked my ass.

"Forgetting your place, whore?" Mark said.

"Who told you to speak?" Pete added as he pulled on my hair tighter.

"I... I just thought I'd offer my opinion..." I muttered meekly.

"It's not your place to," Josh said. "You're the office female. You shut up and look sexy. Deliberation and decisions are for the men. Are you one of the men?"

"No Sir. I'm the girl."

"Then know your place as a girl." Pete threw me to my knees. "Crawl over to that dildo and suck on it. It'll remind you of your status."

"Yes Sir," I whispered, crawling over to the suction cup dildo on the wall.

I was shaking with arousal, with excitement. With happiness. I was wet, and happy, and girly, and meek and weak and feminine. I had never felt more comfortable in a role in my life.

Over the course of a few months, we had restructured the office's working paradigm. Before, gender didn't matter. Now it did. Now it was the main paradigm that defined all. And that paradigm was a simple one: as long as we were in the office, absolute patriarchy was the rule of law. Outside of the office, when we hung out and spent time together as friends, men and women were equal, gender was never brought up, we didn't even think about it.

But once we entered the office? Then I was a woman, and they were men, and in the office, man was superior, and woman was inferior. A raw, simple paradigm, one I blossomed in.

One morning, I was sucking off five dildos attached to the wall. The men were doing something: deliberating about something, making decisions, exercising power...

Male-business. Power, decisions, these were stuff for the boys. I was the girl. That's not where I belonged. I didn't care to listen or understand any of it. I just focused on my role; or my gender role, to be bluntly honest. Like always, the dildo had "I'm equal," written on it. My job was to suck until the writing was gone completely. And for every three sucks, I had to say a mantra.

"I'm a whore." Suck, suck, suck. "I'm a slut." Suck, suck, suck. "I'm a bitch." Suck, suck, suck. "I'm not equal." Suck, suck, suck. "I'm an animal." Suck, suck, suck.

Andy walked over to me and began groping my body, feeling up my breasts, my ass, petting my hair, playing with my pussy a bit. They always did that when I sucked, and I loved it.

"Up, bitch," he said, grabbing my hair.

"But Sir," I moaned, "I have to worship Cock." They knew how much I loved sucking dildos. I lost myself in a trance and forgot about all stress, all problems, everything.

"Exactly, we need to talk about that."

He dragged me by the hair to the conference room. All the guys were gathered there. They had me kneel on the ground, hands behind my back and my back arched submissively. I existed only to please the male gaze; there was never a moment I could slouch or have an unattractive pose. It was harsh, strict discipline, and it filled me with life.

Mark was the first to talk. "Why do you suck dildos, Sarah?"

I shrugged at the obviousness of the question. "Because it's my place."

"Yes, but why?" Paul said. "Why this action specifically? We have you do plenty of other degrading actions, but why is sucking phallic symbols your main ritual?"

I thought about it for a bit. "Because it reminds of my place."

"And what is your place?" Luke said.

"Being unequal to you. Having a lower status."

"But what gives you that lower status?" Pete intervened. "What's the reason you specifically are the submissive here. Why not me, or Sam, or Neil?"

I chuckled. We all knew why. "Because I'm a woman and you're not." That's what this arrangement was: we had agreed to gender segregate on the basis of patriarchal archetypes.

"Good," Neil declared. "And what's the symbol of manhood?"

"Cock."

"So why do suck dildos?"

Now I saw what they meant. "Ah, I get it... I suck dildos because dildos are a representation of the phallus. Of manhood. When I suck the dildos, I'm not just doing something degrading for the sake of it being degrading. I'm paying tribute to the thing that gives you power over me. I'm recognising your superiority and worshipping it."

"Do you enjoy recognizing our power?"

"Yes Sirs. I love it."

"Do you enjoy paying tribute to our superiority over you?"

"More than anything."

Neil leaned forward. "Then you would enjoy doing it more directly."

I frowned a little. "More directly?"

"You worship cock," Paul said. "You're like a priestess, and cocks are your gods."

The analogy made me giggle, but he was right. It turned me on to play the part of the cock-crazed submissive. I really was like a zealous priestess doing worship.

John raised a finger. "Are you devoted to cock, Sarah?"

I nodded excitedly. "Yes Sir. More than anything." I looked at all of them, making sure they heard my sincere emotion. "I love Cock, Sirs. I love, love, love, LOVE, it. I love Cock. It's everything to me. It's my authority, it's my goal, it's my rock, it's my favorite thing in the world."

"What's your goal in life?"

"To worship it. To be the good little girl who knows her place and praises it with my lips."

"Are you truly a devout priestess of cock?"

I laughed. What a funny what to put it. "Yes! Yes!" I giggled. "I'm the most devout priestess of cock there is!"

I saw all the men simultaneously smile, as if they had finally reached some sort of goal they were striving towards.

"Tell us," Max said. "A priestess devoted to her gods would do anything to worship those gods themselves, instead of a symbol of those gods. Wouldn't she?"

I hesitated a bit, frowning again. "...Yes?..."

"Then, if that's true," Neil said, "you'd rather suck real cocks, instead of fake ones. Right?"

Oh. Now I could see what this was all about. My smile disappeared and I rose to my feet. "No." I said, simply and sternly. "No. End of discussion. Guys, I'm a fucking slut. But not to that degree. You can touch, you can kiss, you can spank. My body is an unlimited buffet for your hands. But that's the one line I can't cross."

"That's O.K," Jake said, getting up and petting my head to reassure me. "No one's going to force you, Sarah."

I gave his lips a kiss. "Thanks. Hope you're not too disappointed?"

The men shook their heads confidently, betraying absolutely no sign of negativity.

"Let's walk you around the parking lot a little," Stuart said. I nodded excitedly and got on all fours, ready for to be walked like the good little bitch I was.

***

One morning around a week later, I was kneeling in the corner, repeating my mantras. If I managed to repeat them all in the correct order four times in a row, I'd be allowed my reward: to suck ten dildos.

"Hey Sarah," Lionel said. "We were wondering, would you be comfortable if we opened our zippers from time to time? Let our cocks out just a little. Give them some air."

"Give them air?"

"Sarah, you're one hot piece off ass. Here you are, naked and chained up... our cocks are hard all day long. It hurts after a while."

"Hmmm... sure, makes sense. Alright, you can get your cocks out of your pants' fly. But no more! You're not pulling those pants down, are you?! This whole thing is hot as fuck because you're totally clothed and I'm naked. If the men start showing off skin too, the whole gender role thing gets ruined!"

"Yes, yes, calm down bitch," he chuckled, petting my hair.

I took a deep breath. For a moment, I had actually gotten scared. I felt so at peace, being totally subjugated. I didn't want to share even an ounce of equality with them, and them showing off any nudity would be them doing "my thing," and bringing them closer to me on the scale of hierarchy.

The men in the room began unzipping, and out went their cocks. There they were, hanging in the open. I felt my cheeks blush. They all had lovely, sexy cocks. Really, really sexy cocks.

As the day went on, I couldn't help but keep looking at those cocks. They looked so, so good... I'd see them walk by and would wish for nothing to block my view.

By 3pm, I knew what they were doing. They were torturing me. Tempting me. They'd stand right in front of my face, acting all nonchalant. Talking to each other, acting like nothing was happening... with their erect cocks right in front of my face.

Their rock hard, solid, cocks. Cocks that looked so full of strength. So hard. So powerful looking. Everything masculine and male and manly and virile. I looked up at them: men in their suits. Power incarnate. I kept looking at their cocks.

Later in the day, Mark, Sam and Josh were talking to each other. Their three cocks stared at me right in the face. It was so hard to focus on anything else...

Mark began gently petting my hair. "What are you looking at, Sarah?"

I didn't understand the question. I way too turned on to compute in anyway, I mean, fuck, I had three rock solid cocks, all erect and ready to be sucked in front of my face.

"Cock?" I said tentatively.

"No. What are you looking at."

I focused on the sheer strength emanating from those cocks. "Power," I whispered. "Authority."

"You love authority, don't you?" Josh said.

I nodded. Authority gave me structure. It brought me order.

I hated disorder. I hated chaos. I was so prone to being anxious; I always needed everything to be perfectly organized, else I went into full-on anxiety mode. Having total control meant I had to deal with things I couldn't control, and I hated that...

But all of this... this pure, total subjugation. It took all power away from me. I didn't have to control anything, worry about anything. I was given the strictest rules, and all I had to do was follow them.

It wasn't just sexual. Of course it was hot, and arousing... but it was more than that. Not being allowed to wear clothes, being restrained, controlled, degraded, having all power, all status taken away from me... it was the most order, the most structure I had ever had in my life. No place for chaos, or uncertainty, or anxiety. Everything was reduced to utter and complete simplicity: there were rules for me, and I followed them. The stricter, the more oppressive and subjugating the rules, the more order and structure. It was so perfect.

And the apex of that structure and order... was blowjobs. When I sucked on the phallic shapes that were dildos, my entire universe was reduced to the simplest possible equation: Cock, I suck it. Nothing else. No worries, no anxiety, no responsibilities, no decisions to make... Just one simple equation: Cock, I suck it.

And now they were there, in front of me. Real, throbbing cocks, hard and masculine and strong. For a second, I saw the image of the old Sarah, the one I had been for all my twenties. A tomboy, masculine and harsh, all girlboss and feminism, all femininity and vulnerability purged from her steely, cold heart. She was looking at me with such disdain.

"Sorry, honey," I said to that old me. "I'm choosing happiness."

I closed my eyes and threw my head forward, mouth all open.