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Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
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Special Express by Abe Froman

   The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains scenes of an
adult nature, so if you are under 18, stop reading now.  This story
contains explicit sexual language and fantasies involving the mental and
physical control of others.  If you are offended by such activities, do not
read any further.  This is purely a fantasy.  Any resemblance to any
person, living or dead is purely coincidental.  The author is not
responsible for any damage resulting from reading this work.

   Please send any comments/suggestions to me at froman.abe@gmail.com. 
They are appreciated and warmly received.

   This story may be reposted or archived provided the following conditions
are met: 1.  The story is not altered in any way 2.  The story contains my
name and disclaimer 3.  You do not make money from the story



   Stacy's day could hardly have been better - even being at work seemed
wonderful.  The warmth of spring was in the air, allowing her to fully roll
down the windows of her truck and feel the breeze flap her blond ponytail
against her shoulders.  As she looked around the spotless cab and
double-checked her destination, she was reminded why she loved her
employers.

   Special Express was a niche-market courier company that treated their
drivers very well - especially their women drivers.  In fact they seemed to
have gone to great lengths to lure any women away from the other couriers
in town.  There were great and flexible hours, equal and generous pay,
well-kept clean trucks and benefits packages tailored for them.  On top of
regular sick days the drivers also received "lunar days" off every month,
as needed.

   Management had also gone above and beyond when it came to group
benefits. Not only were there the typical medical and dental plans but also
some fantastic group discounts at local salons, spas and upscale clothing
stores - including beautiful lingerie from stores varying from Victoria's
Secret to La Perla.  Add to that the yearly company retreats that just
happened to take place at some of the most stunning beaches and exquisite
resorts and it was no wonder that there was hardly a woman to be found
working for any of their competitors.

   She wasn't so naive to believe that the gender of the person delivering
the packages into offices didn't make any difference to the clients but it
didn't really bother her.  She wasn't a flirt by any means, but she had
long ago made peace with the extra glances her looks brought her.  Her
blond hair was long and thick, striking even in a ponytail - and it was set
off well by the deep tan she easily maintained between the retreats and spa
visits.  Even though the corporate uniform was a non-descript - if a little
snug - jumpsuit, she still felt the warmth of a few eyes on her when she
stepped into male-dominated offices.  She was well curved and she stayed
fit.  Depending on the day or mood it affected her differently, but mostly
it amused her and gave her a certain feeling of power.

   When she arrived at the address on the waybill she found a convenient
spot for the truck in the building's loading area.  There was only one
small package to go, so she could easily carry it by hand.  She head inside
as she tried to recall if she'd been in this particular building before -
no clear answer come to mind.  The buildings all started to blend together
after a while.  These offices did seem to be well appointed to her glance,
lots of shiny metal and expensive wood.  Her eyes moved back and forth
between the package's label and the names on directories and doors until
she found her way to one Mr.  A.  Gallway's office.  His receptionist was a
young woman, so he couldn't be that important.  Stacey's had her own rule
of thumb that the mid-level exec's get off on cute girls outside their door
while the real power players knew that it was middle-aged career
administrators that really got things done.

   The receptionist balked at signing the digital pad and told her that Mr.
Gallway wanted to receive the package personally - security or something.
Stacey sighed okay - more time taken out of her routine, but she didn't let
her disappointment show - Special Express cherished the customer service it
offered - including politeness.  She found this a new challenge today -
this girl was actually chewing gum.

   Following the perky pleated skirt into the main office after a quick
knock, she put on her smile and offered the package and signing pad to Mr.
Gallway.  He looked to be an average sort, not old and not fat.  Stacey has
long ago stopped noticing too much about the "bosses" as in her world it is
the receptionists and parking attendants that merit a courier's good graces
and attention.

   He took the pad from her and signed it, smiling at her.  "Would you mind
waiting just a moment while I open this?  If it is what I think it is, I
should have a return package for you immediately."

   "Of course, Sir" she replied.  Most other companies wouldn't bother, but
this kind of situation was even in her training examples as one way Special
Express would offer a higher level of service.  She turned, just enough to
give him a semblance of privacy but not enough to turn her back to him.

   In the corner of her eye she could see him tear open the small box and
slide out a small folded card.  He must like it, she thought, because that
is some smile.

   He started to speak but it's didn't really seem he was directing his
words to her and his eyes were locked onto the card.  He spoke slower than
before, like he was trying too hard with each syllable.  "Code Special
Express 4591."

   She was about to think that's a strange thing to say, but she wasn't
really thinking anymore, and besides, it wasn't nearly as strange as the
way the room was getting darker and kind of blurry.

   *****

   When a normal light level returned, Stacy found herself seated - vaguely
aware of a change there.  She was standing a second ago, right?  As her
eyes opened more fully and she became aware of her surroundings, she found
herself in a rather plush wingback chair in an office.  She recognized the
face of the man smiling at her and the details of a delivery started coming
back to her.

   "What happened?" she managed to ask.

   He didn't really reply to her; he just smiled.  "God, I love it...
Always a surprise."

   This time turning to face her, he addressed her; "You're a Special
Express courier, my dear, with a rather unique emphasis on the 'special.' I
requested a delivery and I got it, and it's you.  So now you're all mine,
at least for a while.  You were quite expensive, you know."

   "You've got to be kidding," she said, not sure if she should be amazed
at this guys delusions of his own charm, or to be insulted and his
assumptions that she could be bought.  She decided it was time to get out
of here.  When she tried to lift herself out of the chair, her arms didn't
seem to respond to her desire to push herself up.  Still too weak from
fainting, she supposed, or whatever happened.

   "Please, dear," he said, "take off your uniform."

   She was sure of her emotions this time - anger and disbelief bubbled up
inside her mind.  This asshole is out of his mind if he thinks she's
stripping down for him.  Her mind raced to phrase the proper reply and
insult before she would storm off to call her boss and his.

   While she was thinking, the room started moving again.  It took a split
second for her to realize that this time the room seemed to be moving
because she had actually stood up.  Not only that, but her arms and hands
seemed be moving about on their own.  In fact her fingers are starting to
peel open her jumpsuit uniform; opening the collar button and slowly but
steadily pulling down on the front zipper.  She tries to stop it, to pull
her hands away, but despite feeling the sensations and pressure on her
fingertips she seems to have no control over her body.

   She wanted to stop, to scream, to run out -- to do anything but stand
here and be exposed before this stranger.  None of it seemed possible,
however - she couldn't even seem to change the expression on her face - the
soft curl of her lips formed into a coquettish smile mocked her inability
to resist.

   "In case you're wondering, the delivery code gives me your obedience as
well as your presence, my sweet," he spoke in a near whisper, looking upon
her in seeming awe.  Each second passing saw more of her tanned flesh
exposed and his eyes were locked upon the motion of the zipper.

   She wasn't just removing her clothing in a utilitarian way, it became
clear.  Her shoulders and neck joined the kind of dance, shrugging back to
slide the uniform from her shoulders as the posture emphasized her firm
breasts.  Despite the mental resistance she put up, there seemed to be
nothing she could do to stop her body turning as her hands moved to her
waist, pushing the jumpsuit down her long legs, bending at the waist as she
did so - exposing her bottom so shamelessly to him.  Her hands reached all
the way down to her ankles, freeing her foot from her shoe as it stepped
out of the jumpsuit leg.  Her next foot followed suit, pulling from the
shoe and the jumpsuit, now just crumpled cotton on the floor - and she'd
stepped outwards each time, so her feet were spaced out nearly two feet
apart - she was suddenly very aware of the view she was giving him.

   She wanted to stand, to turn and cover herself as best she could.  None
of that happened though - just the slow slide of her fingertips up her legs
as she moved upright so slowly.  As she stood upright once more, her legs
twisting to turn her body towards him one more, another surprise nearly
overwhelmed her.  A pulse of what seemed like heated electricity shot
through her body, starting between her legs and pushing outward to her toes
and fingertips.  It seemed like pure pleasure.  Her helplessness in her own
form continued, and she couldn't even blush as she felt her pussy moisten
and her nipples stiffen quickly - all in the open view of this Mr. 
Gallway.

   "Yes, I bet that felt good - they tell me it feels wonderful for you to
obey - to do just what you're told," he was nearly laughing and he'd
clearly noticed the reactions.  "Keep that in mind, my dear."

   Stacy no longer knew what to think; she was hardly able to deal with the
conflicting emotions and sensations.  She found herself standing in this
office, stripped down to tiny red lace panties and a matching demi bra of
red lace and black silk piping (that would have been out of her financial
reach without the company discount).  Perhaps even more embarrassing than
her sexy ensemble is the fact that the pulse of pleasure has left her
nipples very visibly stiff and she knew from the wonderful sensation that
dark wetness will soon be marking her panties.

   She's humiliated, embarrassed, angry, afraid and confused.  What is
happening?  What did he mean when he talked about the company?  She's a
courier, not a hooker.  Is Special Express behind this somehow?  God, why
does it have to feel so good?

   Her mind raced invisibly behind the coy smile her lips curl themselves
into, parted slightly to show her tongue sliding over her teeth.  Her body
was quivering visibly with the pleasure.

   "Go ahead, look in the package you delivered, and pull out the red
plastic bag - it should be clear what to do with the contents."

   Her body didn't hesitate to walk to the box and pull out the red plastic
bag and open it up.  Inside she saw a rather slutty-looking pair of red
heels that must have been five inches tall.  One after the other she
slipped her feet into them and found herself balancing atop them as she
leaned forwards, at the waist again, to close the leather strap around her
ankle.  With them on, her fingers searched in the bag and pulled out the
only remaining item - a tube of lipstick.

   She barely got a flash of the bright red colour before her fingers had
it open and sliding over her pursed lips.  It felt so smooth, so wet that
she knew it must be some kind of high-gloss covering.  Again she was
distracted and nearly knocked over by the pulse of heat shooting from her
loins.  Another command obeyed, as if she had a choice, and another
unwanted reward.

   "Why don't you get used to those heels and walk around the office for me
- I'd like to get a good look at you in motion, sweetheart."

   In moments she was on her path, embarking on slow laps of his office,
her body swaying and sliding, her hips beating out the unheard rhythm of a
primal drum.  She felt her full breasts, a very full C, bouncing and
jiggling in the limited support her bra offered and the motion only brought
more of her attention to her stiff and sensitive nipples.

   She felt the heat of mortified embarrassment in her cheeks without
knowing only a healthy pink showed on her cheeks.  She felt the difficulty
of balancing her body on the ridiculous heels, but only a practiced grace
showed, along with the shaping of her legs and ass that only such tall
heels could accomplish.

   As she lapped the office as something between a runway model and
commodity on display she realized that she was fast approaching the floor
to ceiling windows behind his desk - she felt like a passenger in a car
about to crash.  There would be nothing to hide her - not that walking
around this way was exactly discrete, but at least it was only for an
audience of one.  She couldn't make herself stop despite her internal
panic. She couldn't even make her head turn to look and see who might be
looking from some other office at that moment.  Maybe, she thought, it was
a blessing that she didn't know if some executive across the street was
snorting coffee through his nose right now, as he watched her nearly bare
body saunter across the room.

   As a further betrayal of her body against her, her stride slowed as she
crossed the expanse of glass.  Her hips gave an extra wiggle, her shoulders
pushed farther back and her hands slid up her belly to lift and squeeze her
breasts.  And, mortified internally, she actually giggled like Marilyn
Monroe on a subway grate.  He loved it, she could tell.  He was watching
her intently, eyes roaming over her like a steak on a barbeque.  She saw
the bulge in his trousers grow and his hands move to his crotch for some
unexplained adjustment.

   At that moment, if she could have, she would have visibly stumbled with
the force of the pulse of pleasure and lust hitting her.  She wanted to
curse her body - how could she be acting this way?  Displaying herself like
a whore, simply following this stranger's orders without question or
hesitation.  How could it cause her such pleasure?  It was maddening,
especially as she could already hardly wait for the next feeling, the next
pulse - all the while fearful of what she would be doing when it happened.
Would she be touching that cock?  God, would she?  Part of her wanted to
see it, to touch it and to squeeze it but each rising mental image was met
with the opposite metal impulse of anger and disgust.

   Gallway seemed happy to watch her for a few endless minutes, through her
slow and silent laps of his office.  Then he spoke.

   "There's a special toy in the delivery box.  Will you get it, please?"
It wasn't a question and his pure enjoyment of his control was audible in
his tone.

   She didn't miss a stride or break her rhythm as she turned to the box
she'd delivered.  She stopped and bent at the waist to reach down and pull
out the strange item from the bottom of a black plastic bag.  Inside her
head, she heard alarm bells sounding along with silent screams of panic. 
It was huge!  In her hands, she held a giant, rubber and lifelike black
rubber dildo.

   Years ago, on one martini-inspired girls night, she and some friends had
gone to see a male strip show.  The muscled body of the feature dancer had
blown them away - they had hooted and hollered and laughed and screamed. 
When that African god had pulled away his thong that night, however, they
were silenced in awe.  This dildo was bigger.

   The base of it was formed into a suction cup and the intended use was
clear with Gallway's next words.  "Lick the base, my dear, and push it up
against the window behind my desk."

   Her mind was racing, trying to stay a step ahead in figuring out what
was planned for her, while her body mindlessly obeyed.  Her tongue rolled
out of her mouth, bathing the base of the dildo.  She got down on her knees
for leverage and pushed the toy up against the glass - once more exposed to
view - until it stayed there on its own - jutting out obscenely.

   "Strip completely now, please - take off everything but those wonderful
shoes."

   Was she still resisting?  She couldn't tell as clearly as before.  The
reactions of her body didn't seem as unexpected or as unwanted.  God, she
had to fight this, no matter how good it felt in pulses.  She couldn't
become this.  At the same time, her body gave a little spasm of joy as
first the bra then her panties were peeled off in a slow, seductive dance
for him.  It felt like an invisible kiss on her clit when they hit the
floor.

   Every square inch of her flesh tingled, like a breeze was caressing her
nakedness.  Her nipples were crinkled so tight, like a lover's lips were
holding and taunting them.

   She barely heard his words as he made his wishes clear.  Her mind didn't
need to, as her body was only too happy to oblige.  She slid down to her
knees, facing him, and on all fours she backed up to the obscene toy until
she felt its touch.  She didn't stop longer than it took for her hand to
find the head and guide it to her soaked pussy.

   In a blur she rode it - she pushed her body back, actually moaning out
loud as it stretched her open wider and pushed in, spreading her puffed
lips open around its girth.  Her ample breasts swayed with the building
rhythm.  The pleasure hit her let a pure force and her humiliation and
shame lost easily to her built-up lust and desire.  Her eyes held his gaze,
his smirk, as she fucked the toy - the show visible to anyone who might be
watching from the other side of that window was sure to be obscene and
graphic.  She knew it and that knowledge was another split in her mind -
part ashamed and part deeply aroused by the possibility.  She imagined some
copy clerk staring at her ass, her body pushing back as it was filled over
and over, and maybe even that horny boy was holding his dick in his hand as
he watched.

   Gallway, clearly aroused, made his way closer to her.  His hands deftly
opened his belt and he pushed his trousers and boxers down to his ankles.
The stiffness of his cock was a clear barometer of his enjoyment of the
show so far.  He sat on the edge of his chair and the command had barely
left his mouth before her lips swallowed him in.  Her body pistoned between
the two cocks now - one thrust would push her back and drive the massive
dildo deep into her raging cunt, the next would slide his hot throbbing
shaft into her mouth, with her lips pursed tight around him.

   She felt the heat rising in her body as her moans escaped as gurgled
mumbling.  Her shame was outdone by disbelief now - disbelief that this
could be real, that she could be in this situation when she was supposed to
be working, that it could feel so good.  Over and over she bounced between
him and the huge dildo.  Each motion brought a sense of further humiliation
that was rapidly outdone by the pure physical pleasure of the sensations
that came with it.

   She felt herself close to release, to sweet orgasm.  She was so close
that just a few more thrusts would do it.  Before she could make it,
however, he pulled his throbbing cock from her mouth, putting a stop to her
rhythm.  Once he was free of her lips, he reached down to pinch her
nipples; he held them in his fingers and squeezed and rolled them until she
moaned out loud.  Then he pulled them, towards him, as he rolled the chair
back.  At first her body took the sensation as pleasure and play, but he
didn't stop pulling away from the window.

   Finally, reluctantly, she had to crawl forward to follow - her tormented
breasts and nipples pulled her like a leashed puppy.  She sighed as the
dildo popped wetly from her aching cunt.  With that wet sound he stopped
and released her.  She knew then that he had heard the sound too and her
unseen humiliation rose higher and higher.

   "Turn around, my sweet.  Crawl around for me, and face the window."

   She manoeuvred around on all fours, turning her bottom towards him.  Her
thoughts blurred into a chaotic buzz her mind took in her surroundings. 
The huge, obscene rubber cock stared her in the face, dripping with her own
juice.  Her pussy, spread and hot and wet, was displayed to the strange
executive.  And yes, it had to have happened, she could now see men
watching her from two separate offices across the street.  One man, alone
in his office was clearly stroking his own cock with the show.  Two windows
over and one floor up, there were three men together and she saw their
faces distorted in laughter and amazement.

   "Time to start again, my sweet," he spoke with a ragged voice now.

   Her internal voice begged, but she didn't really know whom she was
begging anymore: him or herself?  His hands guided her forwards and with
her eyes as wide as her mouth, she took the dildo in her mouth.  The strong
and needy taste of her own nectar was powerful, and she could do nothing
but meet the eyes of the onlookers as she felt herself pushed deeper and
deeper onto it.

   As the fullness of it struck her and se was fighting to fit it all in,
her attention was diverted elsewhere.  Gallway thrust his stiff cock, still
wet from her saliva, deep into her waiting and displayed cunt with a single
thrust.  Her moan was turned into a bubbling gurgle by the dildo, and the
thrust pushed it even deeper into her.

   Each thrust filled her body with sensation - not only from the feeling
of his very eager cock sliding into her sensitized pussy, but again with
the unwanted yet so wonderful pulses of goodness that her obedience and
subservience seems to trigger.  Her want was palpable yet at the same time
so was her shame, her humiliation, as she was so aware of being fucked on
all fours in this office while she sucked on all of the black dildo she
could fit into her mouth in the full view of an increasing crown of office
workers.  As she moaned, one hand moved to the window to brace her body
against his deep forceful thrusts.

   She feared the final humiliation even as she knew it was so close, and
so desperately wanted.  She was moments from cumming.  Each thrust edged
her close to that cliff.  As her body trembled and her breasts swayed, she
could feel her heart pounding in her chest, reverberating in her head and
her clit.  And then it hit, landing over her like an ocean wave - hitting
her whole body at once, knocking her right out of conscious thought. 
Despite the mouthful of rubber, she still tried to scream out with
pleasure.

   Gallway rode it out, feeling the spasming of her pussy tight around his
cock.  His continued thrusts only lengthened her orgasm; wave after wave
pounding over her, until her clit felt like it would explode or burst into
flame.  At his own last moment, he pulled his trembling shaft from her,
sticky from her nectar, and held it tight as he reached his own plateau,
and shot numerous thick white ropes of hot cum onto her glistening back and
ass.  A guttural moan pushed from his mouth with each shot.

   As her passion receded, the full force of her humiliation hit her.  She
knelt there, mouth full of dildo, as he moaned and breathed deeply behind
and above her.  He was bathing in his own pleasure, using his softening
cock to rub his cooling cum into her skin.  Her gaze took in the applause
from her audience across the street - a silent mocking.

   "Come off there, sweetheart.  You can lick me clean."

   She wondered if it could possible get worse.  As the tingling of lust
drained from her, the fact that her body was ignoring her mind hit her
again with full force.  She wanted to flee and hide but her body obediently
backed off the dripping dildo, drool dripping from her lips, and turned to
him.  She gathered up the halferect cock in her mouth and her lips and
tongue slowly bathed him, taking in the mixture of his cum and her nectar.
It seemed to take forever to her as her nimble tongue searched out each
drop, even going so far as to suck his balls into her mouth while his cock
lay across her cheek.

   It was then that the flash of the Polaroid went off.  "I'm not supposed
to, baby, but I had to have just one souvenir." He was giggling.

   His next words were in that forced and formal enunciation, "Code Special
Express 4591 complete." Her mouth was still full of him when her vision
faded slowly to black, last seeing the grin of a man who couldn't be more
pleased with himself.

   *****

   "Here you go, Miss - the waybill is attached."

   She stood, looking back at the very comfortable chair where she'd been
waiting for him, yet another mid-level executive wanting personal courier
service because it makes him feel important.  She smiled to herself, she
wouldn't have to wait if she worked for another company, but it was a very
small price to pay.  Besides, she thought, she got a bit of a break in the
middle of a hectic day, and she felt so refreshed she could have been
glowing.

   Her eyes widened a touch as she glanced at her watch as she left the
office, the new package tucked under her arm.  Damn, time sure flies when
you love your job.

   *****

   Please send any comments or suggestions to froman.abe@gmail.com.  They
are greatly appreciated.  (C) 2005 Abe Froman
   
