Cracking the Whip

Cracking the Whip:
BDSM Stories
A beautiful FBI agent is blackmailed and sexually abused by her cruel,
sadistic boss.

Ronald Pearlman. Jerk. My new boss.
Ronald Pearlman was a thin lipped, unsmiling man of thirty six with
short hair and an attitude that he was set over us because he was so
much smarter and better than we were. He was arrogant, treated us all
contemptuously, and believed the way to get results was to openly insult
those who didn’t perform up to the standard he set for them.
And he hated women. The FBI was an aggressively sexist institution,
but that was all below the surface. It had all kinds of rules and
regulations professing equality. But while strictly abiding by the
letter of the law the spirit was routinely butchered. Men like Pearlman
honestly believed no female could ever do anything as well as a man, and
that taking us into the Bureau destroyed the FBI’s efficiency and
Pearlman treated all his agents like crap, but he was especially
snotty and snide around me. The slightest deviation from regulations met
with harsh criticism. The least misstep, the faintest doubt about the
contents of a file, and he would be sneering at me in front of the other
agents. God, how I loathed him.
So I was not pleased to be called and ordered to come to his
office. As SAC OC NY, he had a walled office, rather than a cubicle,
like the rest of us. His door was always closed, and woe to the agent
who opened it without knocking and waiting for permission to come in.
I knocked, waited, and when he shouted, opened it and stepped inside.
“Ah, come in, Agent Ryan,” he said with a strange jovial tone.
“Come in and close the door.”
I did so, and approached his desk.
Most of the SACS at his level had a cheap, government issue desk.
Pearlman had gone out and bought a big, teak desk whose polished surface
gleamed like a mirror. Instead of cheap steal and plastic chairs it had
two enormous wood and leather armchairs facing it. He thought of himself
as an important man and his office reflected that.
He smiled at me, that dead, lipless smile
“Agent Ryan, it has come to my attention that you have falsified
official reports,” he said.
My stomach gave a lurch.
“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” I said.
“I am referring to your reports on that business concerning the
Ti-Cha triad which led to the seizure of several dozen pounds of heroin
and sixteen arrests.”
“Everything in there was true,” I said nervously.
“No, it wasn’t. We both know that. You excluded most of what
happened, including your time as a guest at Ms. Kim-Le Chow.”
My heart had been beating faster and faster, and now skipped a beat.
“We raided a Ti-Cha safe house last week and have developed
evidence regarding what happened there.”
“E-evidence?” I said, my face pale.
He pointed a remote control at the TV set and an image came on. The
bottom dropped out of my stomach and the air kind of woofed out of my
lungs. My legs felt rubbery and I had to reach out and grip the arm of a
chair to keep from falling.
The picture was startlingly clear and bright. You’d hardly credit
that it was taken by a small, perhaps even hidden camera.
The girl wore a kind of oriental patterned blue silk corset which
squeezed her waist in painfully tight and thrust her breasts up and out
invitingly. Her arms were bound back tightly together behind her back by
an arm sleeve with a matching pattern, and she wore a silk collar around
her throat. The butt of a dildo stuck out of her shaved pussy, attached
to her by a tiny chain which clipped to the hood of her clitoris.
She knelt before a man, bobbing her lips up and down his cock. As
the camera zoomed in, she leaned forward and slid her lips all the way
down to the base of the shaft.
My lips. The girl was me.
I had had no idea Kim-Le had taken any video during the brief time
she’d held me as her prisoner, and my heart pounded as my mind raced
through all the things which had happened to me there and - .
The scene shifted. Same girl. Same outfit. Much more company. There
were a dozen guys there crawling over me, sticking their cocks into
every available orifice.
“Turn that off!” I demanded, face burning.
He turned off the TV and smiled his thin-lipped smile.
“You filthy bastard!”
“That’s impertinence. You could be severely... disciplined for that.”
“How dare you!?”
“How dare I? How dare you? You turned in a false report.”
“I... yes, but - .”
“A false report which was the basis for the criminal prosecutions
of several people.”
“But, well yes, but the things in it were true!”
“Well, I mean the main details. I just left some things out.”
He smiled. “Obviously.”
Face red, I tried to get control of myself.
“I was - taken prisoner and... and sexually abused,” I said. “I
didn’t want everyone to know. I didn’t want to be the subject of gossip.”
“And how do I know, Agent Ryan, that you’re not simply lying
again? How do I know you and this Mills fellow weren’t involved in some
kind of conspiracy?”
“We weren’t!”
The TV came on again and I couldn’t help turning my head. The view
was from behind, and I was naked, riding up and down on Mills’ cock. I
closed my eyes and shuddered. Could one die of embarrassment?
“They forced me to do that!”
“I don’t see any guns or knives in this picture.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“So you’re saying you are simply a victim of rape, and that these
videos are just evidence of how cruelly you were assaulted?”
The TV came on again. The picture was much less bright now, taken
with a low level camera. But the face of the woman could be made out,
the woman with her arms held up high above her, pinioned there, bent
over, weights dangling from her nipples. She was being sodomised, very
violently sodomised.
He turned the sound up and I felt the blood drain from my head. I
was going to faint in another minute.
“Ungh! Ungh! Ohh! Ungh! Oh yes! Oh God! So good! Ooooo! Deeper!
Deeper! Ahhhg!”
The microphone had caught every little gasp and moan as I had climaxed.
“Tell me again about how you were a prisoner and everything was
against your will!”
He stood up, and my eyes dropped to the carpet. I was humiliated,
and there was nothing more to say. How could I explain the exhaustion
and pain and misery, and how the vibrator buried in my pussy had been
taunting me with its pulsing heat for hours? How could I explain to him
when I couldn’t even explain to myself?
He moved around the desk to stand in front of me, and was smiling
that dead smile again.
“Now, we have two choices,” he said. “First, launch an official
investigation. That will require a team from Professional Standards...
examine... all the video, interview Kim-Le and all her people, as well
as Mills, and, of course, yourself. They’ll want every detail, of
course. And, inevitably, word will get out and - .”
“Or?” I bit off the word, still looking down at the rug.
His hand slid beneath my blazer and along my hip.
I jerked back furiously, eyes blazing, and he grinned smugly.
“Your choice, Agent Ryan. We can engage in a little sport, the kind
you clearly like, or the entire Bureau and half the city finds out what
a whore you are when someone sticks it up your ass.”
“You... you... fucking bastard!” I raged.
He grinned. “I’m going to be fucking a bitch in a minute.”
“I-I won’t!”
He moved past me and locked the door to his office.
“Remove your clothes, Agent Ryan.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious!”
“And if I refuse?”
He smirked.
“I didn’t do anything illegal.”
“You falsified an official report. That’s a crime.”
“I’m sure the jury would understand.”
“Probably true. But you’ll be all over every newspaper in the
country first.”
I turned away, pulse racing.
“Now, Ryan. I’m not a patient man.”
“You don’t care that this is extortion? Virtually rape!?”
“No.” He stared at me cooly.
I shook my head, swallowing a curse.
“Do you need help?”
I glared at him furiously, then yanked off my blazer and threw it
on the floor.
He sat in a chair by the door and watched, eyes cold.
I turned my back on him, fingers trembling as they undid my
shoulder holster and took it off, then undid the buttons down the front
of my shirt.
All right. He wanted me. He could have me, or at least, the
physical part of me. I would strip, lay down, and be a dead body. See
how much the bastard liked that.
I undid my skirt and dropped it to the floor, then kicked it off.
“Nice ass,” he said.
My face burned and I reached behind and undid my bra, pulled it
forward dropped it, then skimmed my thong down and off.
I straightened, looked down, and bit my lip, then shook my head.
“Turn around, slut.”
I tasted the bitterness of defeat, and turned.
His eyes widened appreciatively.
“Woah,” he said. “Great tits. I always knew they were nice and the
video was quite clear but the reality is even better. And nipple rings.
Very, very nice.”
He got up and walked across to me. “Still have a shaved pussy, hmm?”
Kim-Le had had it done, but I had decided I liked the feel of it,
so had kept it that way.
His hand went to my pussy and he fingered the ring piercing the
bottom of my labia.
As with the nipple rings, I had decided that since it was already
done, well...
I winced as he pulled at it.
“Look, if you’re going to do it, do it. Where do you want me? On
the sofa? We don’t have all day. Someone’s going to wonder what you’re
doing before long.”
He took my arm and spun me around, then shoved me against the back
of one of the heavy chairs in front of his desk, bending me over.
I grunted, my hands against the arms of the chairs, trying to brace
myself both physically and mentally. I could do this. I’d gotten through
worse. Someday I would get him back.
He moved to the side of the chair and took my right hand, then
yanked it forward, forcing me to bend further.
“Just like old times, eh, Ryan?”
He was wrapping a tight length of silk around my wrist, and before
I could react he had tied it around the right arm of the chair. I tried
to fend him off with my left, but he grabbed it easily, pulling it
forward and binding it down.
“You don’t have to tie me up, Normand,” I said between clenched teeth.
He slapped my ass in reply and I yelped in pain.
“You bastard!”
“Come now, Agent Ryan,” he taunted, “I could see you got off on
this sort of thing. I’m just trying to arouse you, as a considerate
lover would.”
I ground my teeth together as his fingers caressed my hairless
pussy mound, sliding up and down the slit between my lips, and over my
clit. He slapped my bottom lightly, then moved around in front of me and
unzipped his pants.
“I’ve got a treat for you, Ryan,” he said with a leer.
I had always assumed he was a needle dick. Unfortunately, he turned
out to be a monster.
He fisted a very large prick. Which was ironic, since he WAS a very
large prick.
He gripped my hair and yanked my head up, then shoved his cock into
my open mouth as I started to cry out in pain.
“Show me what a great little cocksucker you are, Ryan,” he said
with a sneer.
His prick slid along my tongue, filling my mouth from top to bottom.
“Suck, you pretty little whore,” he growled.
I sucked. What choice did I have? I tried to work his cock quickly,
hoping to get him off so I could get out of there, but he was clearly in
no hurry. He pumped slowly in and out, pushing his hips forward,
twisting and pulling at my hair as he whispered nasty little obscene
insults at me. He reached down and squeezed my breasts roughly, pinching
my nipples and tugging at the rings.
I could hardly believe this. I was in the middle of the Federal
building, at the FBI, tied to a chair naked and sucking my boss’s cock.
“Deeper, Ryan. I know you can take it deep. You did for those
chinks. You can do it for me.”
And he lunged forward. I gagged, but only briefly. Then he was
sliding down my throat, which ached at the thickness of him. Even my
lips strained as his thick cock slid through them, scraping past my
teeth, forcing its way down through the too-tight tube of my throat.
“Ahh, baby, baby, baby,” he moaned. “What a hot little fuck your
mouth is. Do you have any idea how many men here have dreamed about
having those lips of yours wrapped around their cocks? But I get you,”
he said with relish.
He pumped his cock back and forth in my mouth and throat and I
gurgled weakly, feeling the ache in my throat as the plump head of his
prick moved up and down, rasping over the sensitive nerve endings,
sliding wetly along that part of my tongue which was never meant to feel
such sensations. He filled me completely, and my throat bulged as he
used it for his pleasure.
He pulled back, pulled out completely, and I inhaled deeply, a
long, ragged, desperate gasp of air. Then coughed and panted some more
as drool slid over my lip. He laughed and slapped his wet cock against
my face as I gulped in air.
“Too big for you, Ryan?” he taunted. “Get used to it.”
He pushed it back into my mouth, but not deep.
“Suck,” he said, his voice a deep, satisfied sneer.
I sucked, trying to work my tongue against the head - tough when it
was so thick it was squeezing my tongue down. My cheeks pulled in and I
sucked in hard, rhythmic motions, my tongue sliding back and forth
against the underside of the head. He pulled cruelly on my hair, and I
winced and moaned, but kept sucking.
“You might not be good for much, Ryan,” he said. “But you’re a good
little cock sucker.”
He pulled his cock out and yanked back even harder on my hair.
“Oww! Fuck!”
“Don’t beg,” he sneered.
“Don’t pull on my hair!” I protested.
“Tell me how you love to suck my cock, Ryan,” he demanded.
I gasped in pain as he twisted on my hair again.
Evidently cutting it shorter had not been good enough. If I was
going to keep men from using it to pull on me it looked like I was going
to have to go bald.
“Tell me, slut!” he sneered.
“Ow! I-I love to suck your cock!” I cried.
“Not good enough. Tell me with love,” he said.
He reached beneath me, slipping a finger through one of my nipple
rings, then twisting it towards the other. He slipped a second finger
into the other nipple ring and pulled both down, stretching out my
nipples, then my breasts. My nipples began to sting, the pain growing as
he pulled them lower and lower.
“Ow! Don’t! Fuck!”
“Say it with love, whore,” he hissed.
“I-I love sucking your cock!” I gasped.
He laughed, pulling his fingers out of the rings, then put both
hands on my head, dividing my hair, gripping head and hair in an even
firmer grasp as he lifted it up. He thrust his cock into my mouth and
then rammed it down my throat. He drove it deep into my throat, mashing
my nose against his groin, his hard fingers digging into my scalp as he
squeezed my face in hard against him.
He pulled back, then began to thrust hard and fast, pounding his
cock back and forth in my throat. I gurgled and gagged wetly and
repeatedly and loudly as he raped my throat, the pain growing more and
more intense, even overshadowing the roiling of my stomach. I thought I
was going to have to bite him, no matter what he did to me for it, and
was an instant away from doing so when he pulled out and spewed all over
my face.
“Yeah,” he groaned. “When you walk out of her, Ryan, you’re going
to have my come all over your face. And no one will even know.”
I coughed and choked and gagged as he spurted more and more of his
cream onto my cheeks and nose and forehead, then, giggling, rubbed his
cock around to smear it over my entire face.
He pushed his softening cock back into my mouth.
“Make it hard again so I can fuck your tight cunt,” he groaned.
He ground his pelvis into my face, fingers twisting in my hair, and
reached below to squeeze my breasts. I sucked on his shaft, and when he
eased back, took his balls into my mouth, massaging them with my lips
and tongue. Soon he was hard again, and drew back, moving around behind me.
He pulled my legs apart, tying them to the back legs of the chair,
and then, to my surprise, pulled back on my hair, lifting my head, and
rammed a ball gag into my mouth, buckling the strap behind my head.
I cursed, but the sound was muffled. I jerked my head up and back,
trying to see what he was doing, and my eyes widened when I saw him pick
up a long, thin cane. I shouted in denial, shaking my head, and he blew
me a kiss. I turned to the silk strips around my wrists, trying to tear
my hands free, but they were very firmly tied.
When I had refused to fellate her bodyguard Kim-Le had had me
strapped. That doesn’t sound like much, I know. It had stung like hell,
and the stinging had gone on and on and gotten worse and worse until I
had felt like it was going to drive me insane.
This was worse.
The pain was shocking and sharp and felt as if it were exploding
inside my skull.
I tore desperately at the silk ties as the cane sliced through the
air a second time, and cracked once more across the rounded surface of
my bottom.
Fuck it hurt!
I was pulling at all four ties, hoping desperately one of them was
weak or mistied, but could not pull free.
“We’re going to have more discipline from now on, aren’t we, Ryan?”
he asked pleasantly.
“When I tell you to come in here you’ll come at once.”
“When you do you’ll bend over my desk and raise your skirt when I ask.”
“Or you’ll get down on your knees and suck my cock.”
“Or maybe I’ll fuck you in the ass, like that guy did. You
certainly seem to like that.”
“I’m sure I’ll have extra duties for you to perform after hours, as
well, at my place.”
“Oh you and I are going to be really good friends, Ryan.”
I couldn’t help it. The pain was so intense I was going insane with
it, tearing at the bonds. And when I couldn’t free myself and the pain
continued to mount tears filled my eyes and then fell from them onto the
leather seat below my head. Jesus, it hurt! My bottom felt as if it were
dipped in boiling water. If I could have reached my gun I swear I would
have snatched it up and killed him.
The cane halted, and I shuddered in relief, my chest heaving. I
felt the cane sliding between my trembling thighs, the thin shaft
pressing up against my slit and sliding, sawing back and forth between
the lips of my sex. He drew the cane back, and pushed it through the
ring, then twisted it so the ring pulled painfully against my pubic
lips. I gasped, moaned, and bit into the ball gag as the pain grew into
a terrible stinging ache.
“They should have put this through your clit,” he said.
He eased the cane back and slid it out of the ring, then I felt his
fingers pressing against the sides of my pussy opening, forcing the lips
back. It was a humiliating situation, especially since I’d hated Normand
since I’d first met him, and looked down on him as a cretin and jerk.
Now he was gazing at my pink insides and preparing to jam his cock into
me. And yet, I was glad, for it was far better than the pain.
And then I felt the soft flesh of his cock pressing against me,
forcing my pussy open and sliding down inside me. He was nicely thick,
and I hated that. He was the kind of thick that made me strain to
accommodate him, almost, but not quite, to the point of actual pain. I
could feel him filling my pussy tunnel as he drove himself deeper and
He reached forward and yanked at my hair, forcing my head up and
back, and laughing at my muffled cry of pain.
“To think we let a whore like you into the Bureau,” he said with a
sneer. “Political correctness, filling our ranks with sluts and niggers
and other inferiors.”
His hips lunged forward and he drove the last few inches through my
straining pussy lips, grinding his pelvis against my aching ass.
“But we’ll put you to good use, Ryan, have no fear. Already I can
think of several ways we can use your particular talents.”
He was pumping in and out, fighting the hard pull of my pussy,
forcing his way through the tight elastic tube as his free hand moved
down to tug and twist at my nipples.
I could hear him whispering, gasping, in a voice apparently not
meant for me, a voice I could barely hear. “Fucking bitch! Whore! Slut!
Fucking cunt! Yeah! Take it! Take it whore!”
He was grunting, whispering the words with every hard thrust, using
his prick almost as a weapon, spearing it deep into my body and twisting
it around inside in hopes of causing me pain.
“You’re mine! Fucking slut! Snotty whore! Take it, bitch! Take it!”
He was fucking me faster and harder, his hips hammering into my
raised bottom, his upper body bending forward now, like a jockey riding
a fast filly. I felt his weight coming down on my back as his arms
encircled me, his fists filling themselves with my breasts. His cock was
spearing into me with hard, powerful strokes and I was gasping and
grunting in response.
And no, I was not going to come, okay? I am not that fucking
twisted. I was furious, in pain, in shock, humiliated, and wondering
what the hell I was going to do now. Being raped fifty times took the
edge off the shock value of the experience but I was still not enjoying
Although, to be honest, under other circumstances - and with
another body attached to that cock - well, I might have really liked the
hard, rough screwing I was getting.
But my ass was still throbbing with pain, and it made my skin crawl
to feel that bastard’s hands all over me, to feel his hot breath panting
at my ear, and to have his slimy prick rutting into my pussy from
behind. I still had his semen on my face too.
What do I do? That was what was filling my mind. Would I have to
keep submitting to Ronald Pearlman’s sick little games? Clearly he was
not going to be satisfied with this one time. I would be his little fuck
toy, helpless to refuse his every desire. If those tapes were ever made
public - . I just couldn’t imagine the humiliation of having all my
fellow agent find out what had been done to me, how I had been used and
repeatedly raped, sodomised and, well, made to enjoy it.
My career, of course, would be screwed worse than Ronald was doing
to me now. I would wind up in a small room somewhere in Arkansas and
left alone to fill out forms and rot. No way would any boss want me
working for them, or even want to look at me. An FBI agent who had been
a fuck toy and had screamed with pleasure? Shit. You can’t be a
respected FBI agent if you were seen as weak, and this was the ultimate
weakness. Unable to defend yourself. Unable to control yourself.
Even quitting would not necessarily keep it quiet. If Ronald wanted
he could still launch that investigation. I would be forced to sit
across from prune faced older women, and smirking younger men and
relate, hour by hour, incident by incident, every single thing which had
been done to me.
“So tell us, Ms. Ryan. One man was raping you anally, another was
raping your throat, a third was raping you vaginally, and you say others
were running their hands over your body? How many hands, would you say,
and exactly where were they touching you?”
Ungh! No!
Ronald was really going into overdrive. I knew I was going to ache
after this. His hips were bruising my thighs and bottom and his fingers
were crudely twisting and kneading my breasts as he gasped and panted
and moaned above me. He halted suddenly, stumbled back, raced around in
front of the chair, and ripped my head up by the hair, then, squeezing
his cock, spewed his semen into my face again, snickering at me.
Once again he used his cockhead to smear his semen all over my
cheeks and up my nose, then even over my forehead.
“You like that, Ryan?” he jeered. “We’ll rub it in good. Give you a
good facial.”
And then he was undoing my gag, prying it out of my lips. I let out
a gasp of pain as he finished smearing his jism over my lips, chin and
jaw. Then he unbound my ankles, and a few seconds later, untied my wrists.
“Get dressed,” he ordered curtly, wiping at his cock with a tissue
and then putting it back in his pants.
I straightened slowly, gasping and wincing in pain. I reached back,
hissing as my fingers touched my aching bottom.
“I said get dressed!” he snapped.
A little dazed, I reached for my bra and he snatched it away.
“No need for that.”
I stared at him in confusion.
“You won’t be wearing underwear to work any more,” he said, then
I couldn’t argue. I picked up my blouse and pulled it on, buttoning
it quickly, then stepped into my skirt and pulled it up, buttoning it at
my hip and zipping it up. He watched, grinning, as I put on my gun belt,
then slipped my blazer over my shoulders.
“We’ll be working together a lot, Agent Slut,” he said with a
taunting sneer.

From the ebook: Chained Heat - By Veronica Beacher
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