Archive of Our Own

Ruthless. Efficient. Professional. Powerful.

Portia Hall had spent almost twenty years cultivating herself in such a way that she embodied these four things. Everything, down to the last, most insignificant detail, was bent toward reinforcing the appearance and reputation of a successful and influential woman at the top of her industry.

Her job description and the benefits it came with were a big part of that, of course; the private office and the plaque that read ‘Director of HR’ on its door, the private assistant who sat just outside, the hefty little bonuses her contract let her cash in every quarter - lovely little perks on their own, yes, but primarily status symbols. Regalia. There was no point dressing or acting the part of a major player if she was just some entry-level drone with nothing but a cubicle too small to raise her arms in to call her own.

That wasn’t to say Portia could neglect appearances, though. Having an important-sounding title and the benefits that came with it only gave her leverage over the lower ranks, and perhaps a half-decent first impression on the less jaded among them, if she was lucky enough to have them.
Worse, It gave her even less to work with when it came to the people above her.

If she wanted their respect of her superiors and the obedience of her juniors, it would come down to how she carried herself. How she dressed, and how she spoke.

Knowing that, Portia put every spare drop of energy she had into looking powerful too, practically reinventing herself once she had finally been promoted to Director.

Sharp, sleek blazers, starched white blouses, and pencil skirts to help hide any softness in her figure, and gloss over how plush she had grown as she had gotten older and her job grew more financially rewarding….
High heels, to underscore how tall she already was, and to close the height gap between her and the men in the office - giving her an inch or two over the average, and letting her tower over the younger recruits in the company’s ranks…
Even her makeup, and her hair. Her glasses. Her nails. She pampered herself with luxury, and she made sure it showed. Made sure there was evidence of how far above the standard everything about her was.

Each and every little detail was carefully manicured and manipulated to radiate command and influence - and Portia’s work paid off each time she stepped out of her office to check the company’s pulse, the staccato click-click-click of her heels sending slackers scrambling for their workstations while she prowled the production floor in the background like a great white on the hunt for prey.

It wasn’t far from the truth. Ambition had consumed Portia, and it changed her as the years passed. Success wasn’t just about climbing up and standing out anymore; it was just as much - if not more - about dominating those around you. Controlling and subjugating everyone you could to feed yourself. Embodying the image of the corporate predator.

And right now, that predator had been backed into a corner, with no way out.

***

Eyes growing wider with shock and her expression caught between outrage and fear, Portia rifled through the near-thousand pages of carefully collated evidence proving she’d been embezzling company funds with barely restrained desperation, grasping for any kind of hole in the case that she could slip through.

“Don’t bother. That’s almost five years’ worth of proof.” She paused and glanced up at the man sitting in front of her desk, watching his smirk spread from ear-to-ear as he took in the deep, undisguised anger in her expression.

She recognized him, distantly. Harry Boone. One of the company’s common grunts. A troublemaker with a reputation for harassing his female coworkers, but not quite to the point they ever felt he was worth the bother of reporting. Far beneath her notice, under normal circumstances.

Portia felt like she had found a roach hiding in her bathroom sink, the way she was being forced to acknowledge him like this, now…

Nothing to be done about it. Not yet, anyway.

Portia closed her eyes and exhaled, setting the damning little document she’d been presented with face-down on her desk before folding her hands and sitting up. “What is this supposed to be?” She asked, keeping her tone even and neutral. Not hard, with the experience she had racked up, over the years.

“Evidence. Proof you’ve been skimming off the top and cheating the company. Biting the hand that feeds, and all that.” Boone replied simply, leaning back and propping his feet up on Portia’s desk. Her nose wrinkled at the blatant show of disrespect, but she refused to let him get a rise out of her as he continued, wagging a finger at her with a lighthearted chuckle. “You’ve been a very naughty girl lately, haven’t you, Puppy…? Or, maybe you’ve been naughty from the beginning, and you were only getting sloppy, lately?”

She didn’t acknowledge the question. “Let me be more clear; what are you trying to do by bringing this to me? Is this supposed to be a threat?”

“It’s to prove a point.” Boone answered cryptically, still smiling like this was one big joke.

Portia’s brow furrowed, but she forced herself not to snap at him. Instead, she took another deep breath and tucked a stray lock of wavy, auburn hair behind her ear. “Right, well… let’s get down to business, then; how much?”

“I don’t want money.” Boone replied, folding his arms behind his head.

Portia’s facade cracked slightly, and she gave the overreaching little bottom-feeder in front of her an incredulous look. “Don’t tell me that you’re doing this out of some sense of moral duty? You spend all that time digging through a woman’s dirty laundry, march into her office, and then throw it in her face - all just to let her know you’re a better person than she is? Because you’re loyal to your employer?”
She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of the idea, but she still couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from quirking up. “Please, don’t be childish. Now, name your price, and let’s bury this unpleasantness.” She urged him, already thinking about how she’d bury him later down the line.

Boone shrugged, his expression falling slightly. “I never said you couldn’t bribe me - I just said I didn’t want money. Don’t go making assumptions when I’m the one holding all the cards, Puppy.”

Portia’s amusement quickly died, and though she tried to offer him a smile, it came off more as a displeased grimace. “Well, out with it, then. What do you want in exchange for getting rid of-” She flicked the stack of papers in front of her with contempt. “This?”

“Blow me.”

“Don’t be difficult.”

Boone rolled his eyes and took his feet off her desk, standing up and walking around to face Portia without the expensive, paneled bulk of her workstation in the way. “I wasn’t joking, Pup. I want those fat, dicksucking lips of yours wrapped around my cock and spitshining my shaft.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, and bruise-dark lips pulled away from pearl-white teeth as Portia’s face twisted with insulted disgust. Her patience had finally worn thin.

“Listen, you arrogant little nothing; I am indulging you because I would prefer to deal with this quickly and quietly, but if you continue to test me, I-anh-?!”

Portia’s tirade screeched to a halt barely a second after it began; the moment she had raised her voice at him and begun to stand, Boone had stepped back, and Portia had assumed she had cowed him into giving her space to reprimand him after he’d finally gone too far.

She was wrong.

Boone’s hand shot out and snatched up a fistful of her hair before yanking down hard, making Portia hiss as Boone treated her ponytail like a leash and forced her back down into her seat. She reached up to grab at his arm - to try and pry his fingers apart, or force him to let go by digging her nails into his wrist - but he just wound her hair tighter around her fist and threatened to tear it all out by the root until she forced her hands back down and obeyed.

“Sit down, shut up, and listen.” Boone ordered, making Portia wince as he tugged her head back and forced her to look up at him. “Think about the position you’re in. Really think about it. Do you think you can be making threats, where you are right now?”

Portia said nothing, only glaring balefully up at him.

Boone was happy to take it as an answer anyway. “I fucking thought not. Now, in case it hasn’t sunken in yet, let me remind you of the current situation; you’ve been cheating the company, you’ve been caught, you do not have any way out of this, and-” He leaned down, bringing his face inches away from hers. “If you don’t get with the program, I ruin your fucking life. Your office, your money, your reputation - it all goes down the shitter, along with however many years they decide to send you to prison for. You get me?”

Something caustic seethed in Portia’s belly at having to bear the humiliation of being unable to answer a threat with one of her own, and the look of pure, undisguised anger and hate it put on her face was nothing short of foul - but nevertheless, she bit her tongue and nodded.
Boone was right when he said she was in no position to be throwing her weight around, and until she could find something to protect herself or - even better - remove this irritating little thorn in her side, she was just going to have to play along…

“Good.” Boone stepped back, dragging Portia along by the hair and hauling her out of her chair before forcing her to her knees in front of him. “Take my cock out.”

Her face flushed, and even she couldn’t tell whether it was more from outrage or shame. “You can’t be serious…”

“If you make me repeat myself again, I’m going to walk out of here and plaster every page of proof I brought you all over the hall.”

Portia grimaced, but forced herself to obey. Leaning forward, she started fiddling clumsily with Boone’s pants, trying to unbuckle his belt as quickly as possible so she could get it all over with.

For his part, Boone was happy just watching her struggle.

He made it painfully clear that it was part of the thrill for him; every time Portia fumbled, or cursed under her breath, or pinched one of her fingers trying to undo his pants, Boone would let out a pleased little sigh - and the stiff, insistent tent poking out from the fabric would twitch just a little harder against Portia’s hands whenever they brushed up against it.

“Perverted bastard…” She growled under her breath, finally tugging the zipper down and-

Before she could fish his cock out, Boone yanked her closer, jerking his hips forward to mash the hard-on growing in his underwear against Portia’s face.

“Mmph…!”

Obviously, she struggled. Her hands shot to his hips and she squirmed in his grip, trying to push him back, or at least wrestle her face away so she could breathe, but Boone just laughed at her, shifting along with her to keep her pinned and to make sure her nose and mouth were nice and trapped, smushed hard against his full, heavy balls and huffing up the smell of a thick, meaty monstercock eager for a new bitch to break.

“That’s it, Puppy…! No, you’re snorting too much for a name like that; I think I’ll call you Piglet from now on, instead!” He jeered, rolling his hips and making sure to smear Portia’s expensive, luxury makeup into an unrecognizable stain against his undies. “Go on and huff it up, freak! Make a loud enough noise and I’ll let you up for air!”

Portia snarled like an animal as she thrashed, the vitriol and venom rising in her throat at being treated like this threatening to overwhelm her better judgement again - but as her struggling failed to break her free and her lungs began to burn, the kneejerk rush of fury started to erode, giving way to doubt, and then fear. Panic, and… something else.
Something that- something that made the front of her skirt twitch.

Those feelings swirling around in her head and her chest left Portia reacting on instinct. She kept fighting, trying to break free - but without any air, it was only a matter of time before she tired herself out. Before she grew weak… and then went limp.

Again, Boone was leaving her without any other way out. If she wanted to keep what she had already earned, then she had to be willing to humiliate herself for it.

Fine.

Blushing deep enough to almost completely hide her freckles, Portia forced herself to calm down and go still. Then she shoved herself forward, nuzzling Boone’s cock as hard and - she hoped - as painfully as she could, burying her nose between his legs before-

SSSCHNOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRT!!!

Portia’s face scrunched up in disgust at the horrific, disgusting feeling sucking down all the air she could through the makeshift filter of Boone’s underwear left her with, and she suppressed a shudder of disgust - making sure to smooth out the front of her skirt to hide the insistent little bump forming between her legs there, as she did.

Boone laughed at her as he let her pull back, acting like he hadn’t forced her to do it - and like the thick, stinking monster he was grinding against Portia’s face hadn’t jumped with excitement at the noise. “Damn, you really are a pig, aren’t you? I won’t lie, I’ve always called you ‘Puppy’ because I thought you were a huge bitch, but between the snorting and the sloppy look you’ve got all over your face now - and, let’s be honest, all this…” He prodded at her midriff with his foot, making Portia’s face redden. “‘Piglet’ is a perfect new nickname for you!”

Portia looked away, feeling like she had just lost any respect she had for herself, letting this happen to her. “Just be quiet and let’s get this over with already…” She mumbled bitterly.

Boone clapped. “Loving the enthusiasm, Piglet… but after a performance like that, I think I want to make the new name a little more… apt, first.”

That set alarm bells ringing in Portia’s head. “What do you mean…?”

To answer, Boone just grinned and shoved his hand in his pocket. “Total honesty? I was going to make you wear this either way, but after a performance like that? It feels wrong just saving it for the main event.”

When he pulled his hand back out, he held it out for Portia to see, and when she realized what she was looking at…

She looked up at him, looking at him like she was only now realizing how depraved the man she had handed herself over to was. “No…”

“You wanna go to prison knowing what my cock smells like?” Boone asked in a chipper, blatantly mocking tone. “I can still cut things off here.”

Portia’s blood froze. “No!” She insisted, then flinched as she realized that she had yelled loud enough to be heard outside. “N-no… I don’t want that. I’ll-” Her eyes landed on the leather and stainless steel in Boone’s hand again, and her face twisted. “... Fine, I’ll wear the damned thing…” Portia spat.

Sunk cost fallacy was a bitch…

Boone just gave her a proud, patronizing smile and ruffled her hair. It made Portia feel like she was going to be sick. “Good girl. Now here, hop to it.”

Portia looked over the horrible little things one more time, her conflicting pride and fear clear in her face, before finally shutting her eyes and snatching it all up with a growl of impotent anger.

“Bastard…” She mumbled. Boone let her have her moment of resistance - it made watching her obey despite herself in the end all the more fun.

Portia just ignored him - or tried to as best she could, once he started massaging himself through the fabric of his boxers - as she looped the thick, heavy-looking leather belt around her neck and cinched it tight. Then once it was good and secure, she reached back, pushed her hair aside, and clipped the thin little strap it came with into the back of the collar before dropping her hands to her sides again and looking expectantly up at Boone.

He just wagged his finger at her. “Are you forgetting something…?” He asked, pulling his prick out with his free hand so he could stroke it to what would come next.

Portia flushed and did her best to keep her face from twisting into an ugly scowl. “Hmmph…” She grunted.

Then she took the strip dangling from the back of her neck, pulled it over her head, and hooked the rounded, stainless-steel little fork at the end into her nose, wincing at just how cold and uncomfortable it felt sliding into her nostrils and-

“Keep going…” Portia tightened it, biting back a grunt of discomfort as she did.

How it felt sliding into her nostrils and pulling her nose back into a cute, pokeable little button.

She glared daggers up at Boone once she was finished, breathing a little harder despite herself. “There. Happy?”

“Almost. Don’t be impatient, Piglet.” Boone laughed, letting his hand settle around the base of his cock as he pushed his hips forward and brushed the tip along Portia’s lips. “Open up.”

Instantly, she tried to recoil, but his other hand caught her by the strap running along her head, and the office’s once-proud apex predator let out a choked yelp as her collar pulled taut against her neck, dragging her back in so Boone could prod at her mouth and smudge what was left of Portia’s lipstick all along her mouth - to help make her look more like the stupid bimbo of a cock-clown Boone was treating her as and turning her into.

He tugged back, and Portia screwed her eyes shut and grit her teeth as the hooks pulled on her nose and forced her to follow. “You’re a stubborn bitch, aren’t you? Open your fucking mouth. It’s time to earn all that goddamn money you took.”

“I-”

His grip tightened and he shook her head around, pulling painfully on the hair he’d snatched up along with the nosehook he was using as a leash. “Now.” Boone barked at her, raising his voice just a little, and yet still managing to make the older woman on her knees in front of him flinch away from someone for the first time in years.

Portia just looked away, pressing her lips together and scrunching up her nose to try and hide how quickly she was losing control not just of the situation, but of herself and one of the faceless legions of underpaid drones under her.

He wasn’t just blackmailing her anymore, and she wasn’t just biding her time, waiting for her opportunity to bounce back.

She was on her knees. His hand was on her head, and his cock was pushing against her mouth.

And more than outraged at being manhandled by a man so far beneath her that he should have been completely beneath her notice…

She was scared of him.

The lesson was finally starting to set in.

Wealth, reputation, and appearances only did so much - if someone wanted to put their hands on you, all of it meant less than nothing.

Portia opened her mouth, finally cowed into cooperating, and Boone wasted no time jerking her head as far down his cock as he could in one swift move, slamming into the back of Portia’s throat and instantly making her shoulders hitch as she gagged.

Boone didn’t care. He went on burying his dick in the bossy cunt’s throat until she was kissing his crotch and her spit was starting to foam up through the seal her lips made around his cock.

He didn’t let up then, either. He just smiled down at his boss as she gurgled, her throat fighting desperately to push the meaty buttbreaker treating it like a cheap fucksleeve out and failing miserably. “Taste good, Piggy?” He asked her in a low, husky voice as he widened his stance and pumped his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts that made her whimper. “I thought so…!” He grinned, humping Portia’s face just to enjoy how much harder it made for her to hold onto her dignity.

“Eat it all up, you fat fucking cow…!” He growled, hissing with sadistic glee as each thrust grew longer, more drawn out, and even more savage. Each time he pulled back, he came closer and closer to letting his cock slip off Portia’s slick little tongue and falling out of her mouth - and each time, he’d hilt himself in her gullet all over again, battering her tonsils and bruising the back her throat even while his balls smacked against her chin and splattered the lower half of her face with the thick, sticky mix of pre and throatslime being scraped out of her esophagus with each thrust.

Portia just let out a soft, wet wheeze, blinking back dark, mascara-stained tears as she choked and grunted and retched like the animal Boone kept comparing her to. Despite the abuse though, she clung to Boone’s legs, grabbing at his hips and holding on for dear life out of raw instinct instead of affection as he skullfucked her.

Pushing him away was out of the question with her burning lungs steadily sapping her strength - and besides that, having her skull bounced so violently off his groin over and over left her sense of balance utterly shot, and without his hand on her head or his cock in her mouth, Portia was dead certain she’d have fallen over with how dazed she was.

At least, she would have been, if she could string together enough brain cells when so many of them felt like they were shutting down from the lack of air and the growing panic in her chest-

Not to mention all the blood rushing down to her now rock-hard prick…

Portia wasn’t submissive - she wasn’t even certain she was interested in men to begin with - but having her mouth claimed so violently? Getting the raw, meaty taste and scent of a man’s cock quite literally forced down her nose and throat?

It left an unfamiliar kind of heat blooming between her legs and deep in her belly. In her gut, as her virgin pucker twitched like it was waking for the first time in her life.

The abuse only got worse from there. Boone wasn’t satisfied just fucking his boss’s mouth once the novelty wore off, and he made sure Portia knew with a sharp thrust into her face as he pushed her head back down - one that threatened to break her nose or jam her nosehook up into her brains if it was any harder.

“Suck, bitch.” Boone grunted at her, hauling Portia off his prick and letting her retch and heave like the vulgar, stripped-down animal she was as soon as his cock slid free of her lips. “It’ll only be worse for you if you make me do all the fucking work here, like you’ve always done.” He spat at her as she gulped down greedy lungfuls of air.

Then he twisted his grip, forcing her to face him head-on so he could actually spit on her, working up a thick, sticky glob in the back of his throat before hawking it right between Portia’s eyes.

She did flinch a little at the impact, but whether it was because he’d fucked all the resistance out of her or because he swabbed her throat with too much dickmeat too hard and for too long, all Portia could muster up in response was a weak groan and a saluting little pulse from the unladylike little bump forming the wet patch in her skirt.

And when Boone noticed the thick, juicy MILF he had on her knees had an unadvertised little extra between her legs…

He snorted, shaking his head derisively. “No wonder you’re getting off to this, you sloppy fucking pig.” He grunted, taking his cock in hand to paint the glob of drool he hawked up on Portia across her face - giving his prick a fresh, extra thick coat of mixed lube in the process, before he jammed it back against her beestung lips. “Here. Give it a kiss as a thank you - you’re gonna appreciate all this lube in a minute, seeing as you apparently can’t make your own.”

“Bwuh…”

Finally, Boone let go of her head, but only so he could bunch the lapels of her blazer in his fists and haul the plush, unsteady dickgirl back to her feet - then the next thing Portia knew, something cracked hard against her cheek and snapped her head to one side.

Then Boone’s fist slammed into her soft, pudgy middle, and agony shot straight to her brain before blooming out throughout her core.

She wheezed and doubled over, eyes practically bugging out of her head as her last meal threatened to leave the way it came. Boone only cared enough to take advantage, shoving her and making her stumble in her heels as she crashed into her desk and sent everything on it sailing off the edge.

Boone wasted no time.

He stepped in behind her and kicked her legs apart. He grabbed the fabric at her shoulders and yanked hard, popping buttons free popping Portia’s blouse open, exposing her full, heavy tits, her tummy, and the angry-purple bruise forming on her belly while he pulled her top and jacket back to tie her hands behind her back with.

Portia couldn’t even see anymore. Her glasses had fallen away somewhere in the chaos, and her hair had come so undone that her bangs were clinging to her sweat-and-spitsoaked forehead in a thick, wavy curtain - leaving only touch and sound to help her guess what Boone was getting up to next while he was behind her.

That being? Pushing her skirt up and running his hands along his thighs before squeezing and kneading her fat, pale cheeks like dough.

“God, I’ve been drooling over this ass way longer than you can even guess…” He purred, swatting her butt and chuckling as Portia tensed up and squeaked. The sound only encouraged him, though, and the next thing Portia knew, his hand was cupping her nuts through her panties, hefting the little marblebag with an ominous gentleness that managed to set her even more on edge. “Even finding out about this unwelcome little surprise can’t spoil my mood now… I was planning on assfucking you, anyway, heh.”

If she could have put a stop to this before and backed out, there was no way she could now.

And as if to add an extra layer to the torment and humiliation she was being forced through… she realized she was harder than she’d ever been in her life.

Her slim, fingersized little dicklet was hard as an iron bar. Sandwiched between the hard wood of her desk and her soft, spoiled body, she could feel it pulsing excitedly almost in time with the hammering of her heart against her ribs and the blood in her ears as Boone massaged her nuts with one hand and worked her underwear down with the other.

That fact alone made her feel disgusting. It made her want to puke more than the pain and all the filth he’d covered her with, and even despite the perverse little voice in the back of her mind urging her to just lay back and endure it, and perhaps even squeeze a little enjoyment out of being defiled like this, Portia wanted to cross her legs. To block Boone out somehow. A blowjob was one thing, but this?

A quick, sharp tightening of the grip on her balls warned her not to. “Naughty naughty, Piglet… You’re mine now, you understand?” Boone growled, pushing his hand under Portia’s frame to toy with her tiny little prick through her underwear while he undid her bra and tossed it aside.

A low shudder ran through Portia’s body, and she let her head hang low at how far she had managed to fall - how far down she’d been dragged before she even had the time to struggle.

Her face was a mess. Her hair and clothes were so ruined she couldn’t so much as leave her office door unlocked without risking her reputation and career. Her tits were out, and a man who should have tripped over himself just for the chance to lick her shoes clean was pawing at them like she was some cheap, disposable whore - just meat for the office’s drones to take their dead-end jobs’ frustrations and repressed savagery out on before tossing aside.

Worst of all, her body was betraying her at every single step. She was harder than she’d ever been in her life at being toyed with. At being forced to submit to an opportunistic little bottom-feeder like the one groping her meaty ass right that minute. At playing the part of his piglet.

She told herself that what she was feeling was only natural - just an animal reaction to the stink hanging in the air, and the feeling of someone else’s hands on her body - but the way her little bitchclit twitched and leaked a little more into the panties hanging halfway down her thick, pale thighs cut that argument down at the knees.

Today - maybe even from now on - she was a pig.

Prey.

Bottom of the food chain.

And it set her heart racing to finally admit it to herself.

She looked back over her shoulder at the man who had ruined her so thoroughly, meeting his eyes as he looked down his nose at her while he palmed her atrophied little nuts.

Despite her face burning with shame, she forced herself not to look away. She was going to be broken here, no matter what she did at this point. The only thing left to her now was to enjoy the fall.

“Oink.”

Boone grinned. “Good piggy.” He purred, making Portia blush as he tweaked her dicklet, then making her squeal like the hog she was as he let go and gave her little beanbag a harsh swat, only barely softened by her panties being in the way.

“Let’s get this out of the way now…”

Boone knelt behind her, his meaty pigsticker prick already throbbing angrily with anticipation as he picked up a few of the office supplies his clumsy little pussypig queer sent spilling off her desk; a box of rubber bands, a pen, a pair of scissors, a staple remover…

He set them down on the desk beside Portia where she could see, and as he set each one down, he could see the uncertainty and fear growing blatantly in her expression with each one she saw.

It made his cock pulse as his mind began to wander.

He wouldn’t do anything to really ruin his prize hog - not right when he just got her, anyway - but he could see the arousal mixed into the look on her face, along with the fear and hesitation.

It was so very tempting to mark her as his in a way she’d never be able to undo… to take something from her…

Not yet.

Picking the scissors up, Boone ran them along the bare skin of his pig’s ass, idly jerking himself off to the way she stiffened. How Portia looked anywhere but at him as the cool, hard edges of the metal kissed her skin, and how she flinched away with a muted gasp each time he prodded the tips against her fat, spankable cheeks.

Once he was done, he pulled back and started to cut into the expensive, silky-soft underwear keeping her little dick hidden from view - and once it was ready to fall away, he tore it free before stashing it in his pocket for later.

Then he moved onto the pen.

Holding it lightly between his fingers, he tapped it against the compact little pouch Portia called her balls, with a quick little flick that earned a squeak out of the now-docile dickgirl.

Boone laughed as he watched her jump, so startled by the contact.

“Relax, it’s not even as big as my finger.” He chided her, doing it again to prove his point, and then again but with a little proper power put into it, forcing Portia to grit her teeth and hiss as Boone switched her nuts with the pen, batting at one and then the other before hefting them and toying with their weight with the tip, as if he was examining livestock…

Half of Portia was a little afraid of what might happen if she ‘passed’ his inspection. The other wanted to, anyway.

Once he was done… Boone turned his attention further up, toward Portia’s tight, virginal-looking pucker.

He smacked the pen against it, and Portia let out a shaky little gasp as her toes curled and her knees buckled slightly. Picking up on the signals she was giving out, Boone just grinned and smacked his palm against her ass, groping the meaty flesh there with a greedy, finger-sinking grip while he circled her backdoor with the pen, enjoying watching his piglet squirm as it scraped and poked at the tight, wrinkled little hole.

Boone wouldn’t be satisfied with just that, though…

Giving it a gentle little push, Portia sucked in a sharp breath and clenched tight as the pen pushed inside of her, practically disappearing halfway into her plump, heartshaped ass and making Boone positively cackle as it sank in a little deeper after he let go, Portia’s kneejerk attempt to squeeze it out only pulling it deeper inside and almost threatening to swallow it up altogether if it wasn’t for Boone giving the tip a light tug - albeit one that scratched at the dickgirl’s inner walls and forced her to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from being heard outside.

“Naughty little pig…” Again, the strap going over her head tugged one way, and Portia turned to obey only to have a gossamer-soft scrap of fabric stuffed into her mouth as a makeshift gag. “Don’t swallow, now. That’s mine.” Boone warned her. “Just like you.”

Portia shivered, and she had to force her breathing to calm.

His pet now gagged and his pen still sticking out of her ass like a lewd little tail, Portia’s new owner turned his attention to the next toy he had improvised.

Pulling a rubber band out of the box, Boone stretched it between his fingers contemplatively, staring at it as he thought of what to do with it - before gently pressing it against the back of his piggy’s nuts, drawing the elastic away, and letting it snap back into the sensitive little beanbag.

Portia reacted instantly, squealing and practically lunging across the desk away from him. Boone let her try - with her hands bound and her fat ass hanging over this side, there was no way she’d even be able to clear the thing, let alone actually make any meaningful space or take his new, bubblebutt’d toy away from him.

As punishment for the attempt though, he looped another two bands around his fingers, touched them to Portia’s shrunken little marbles, and snapped them back from even farther away.

Her legs instantly cringed inward, her instincts screaming at her to shield her crotch from whatever was hurting her so badly. A sharp spank made it clear that wasn’t what Boone wanted, though, and poor Portia had to make do with biting into her own underwear, fighting down a sobbing little groan as the rubber touched against her scrotum again- five bands this time.

SNAP!

She screwed her eyes shut and hissed.

Seven.

SNAP!

Drool ran down her chin and she moaned, the ache between her legs now steadily crawling up into her belly even as her subby little bitchcock dribbled clear-white nut.

Nine.

SNAP!

Portia swore her balls were reddening and starting to swell by the time Boone was finished, and more than once, her ass had clamped down so hard from the pain that he had to shove his fingers inside her - totally dry and without any warning - to drag her little pen-tail back out where he could reach it.

“Made of tougher stuff than I thought, huh, Piglet?” Boone mused, twisting the rubber bands in his hand into a tight little knot as he patted her butt. “Good. I don’t want you breaking on day one. Faggot or not, you’ve got a body built for breeding…”

Portia flushed, breathing hard through her nose as she stared straight ahead, waiting for what came next. What kind of agonizing pain, and what new, unfamiliar pleasure it could fry her increasingly masochistic brains with…

The answer came when those rubber bands touched her balls again, wrapping around them in a thick, tight little bundle before Boone’s fingers slipped away and they cinched tight around her balls, practically crushing them all at once and making her gasp as her dicklet twitched and jumped, fighting to squirt out barely a few drops of her seed before going still again. Completely and utterly useless where it was trapped.

Portia groaned and snorted, reverting more and more into the hog Boone insisted she was while she gulped down the drool pooling in her mouth, flavored by her own mix of masculine and feminine flavors…

Her balls were in a vice grip now.

She pictured the winkles in her sack fading as it swelled under the abuse. Imagined it turning red, or blue, or purple - maybe some depraved mix of all three - as Boone teased and tortured it, and mocked her for getting off on it.

It felt like she had a target painted between her legs, and the chunky, perverted, cow-titted little faghog she was only wanted to spread her legs wider and invite her owner to hit it harder.

Lucky her, there was one more toy on the table...

Boone grabbed the staple remover and held it up, letting the harsh, cold office light bounce off the edges of its ‘teeth’ where Portia could see. “Now, what to do with this, I wonder…”

For a moment, the self-destructive fuckfog clouding Portia’s thoughts cleared slightly, and her eyes widened as it settled on the cruel-looking little knickknack.

Boone grinned. “What do you think, pet…?”

Portia’s eyes bounced between his face and the thing in his hands. The sharpened little fangs it used to grab and tear.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Her blood thundered in her ears, and she swallowed hard as she thought about what to say. What to do.

It wasn’t like she could run.

Boone pulled his hand away, and Portia strained her neck to look behind her, but he was already crouching between her legs, out of sight. Her dick twitched in fear and unwanted arousal at the thought of what he might be doing. She began to panic. If she thrashed, maybe she’d be able to get loose-

But if not, maybe she’d lose more than he intended to take…?

A sharp, cold feeling kissed her bruised little beanbag and she fought down the instinct that screamed for her to flinch away. It would have been almost soothing, if she hadn’t seen what it was that she felt brushing up against her most sensitive, most vulnerable place…

“I’m waiting for an answer, Piglet…” Boone’s voice came in a teasing, sing-song tone as he gently dragged the staple remover’s pointed teeth along the seam of her baby factories. “Think carefully.”

Portia opened her mouth to answer - and not a single word came out. Nothing but a low, incoherent grunt from a pitiful pig too scared out of her mind to so much as string a pair of words together. All she could muster up as she put all she had into resisting the urge to cross her legs was a muffled whimper and a shake of her head.

The staple remover nicked her bruise, and Portia sucked in a hard, shaky breath as she steeled herself.

Boone’s hand settled on her cheek, gently massaging the pale, freckly meat as he kissed the other one. “Figured it out yet?” He asked in a low whisper. “I own this ass. Whatever I tell you to say, whatever I tell you to do - you fucking hop to it, or I make you lose everything… and if I want to, I take everything from you anyway.”

Portia nodded.

“You get that whatever you have from now on, you have because I feel like letting my toy play at being a big girl? That up until now, you’ve been a puffed-up idiot too high off your own farts to bother cleaning up after yourself?”

Another nod. The staple remover clicked ominously, and Portia struggled to keep herself from curling up like a scared little girl as hot, desperate tears beaded at the corners of her eyes.

“Good piggy.”

She heard another click, and when she glanced toward it, she saw the staple remover set down on the table again.

Boone laughed, pulling the pen out of her asshole quickly and roughly enough to make Portia squeak as he leaned down to whisper into her ear. “Dumbass. I’m not about to do something that extreme. I like you scared, and I like you broken, but this body?” His hand clapped heavily into her juicy butt, making that pale, luxury-fattened ham she called her ass jiggle. “It’s too pretty to fuck up like that.”

Portia flushed like a schoolgirl at that. Nevermind the fact he’d been calling her fat, pig, and stupid up until now, defenses worn down by the scare tactics and the countless little games he’d just put her through, a simple, heartfelt compliment like that - one as simple as “I think you’re sexy” -  struck her very core.

“Besides…” He continued, standing back up.

“I’d prefer to fuck it up like this.”

Boone’s fist crashed dead-on into Portia’s crotch from behind, with every pound of strength he could muster put behind it, like he was trying to make sure Portia would never get any use out of the piddly little eggs he let her keep, even if he had decided against taking them from her.

The sudden wave of agony radiating out from between her legs ripped a choked, breathless noise only animals ought to have made from the once-powerful woman’s lips. Her mind went completely blank, any and every thought she could have had in the moment burned away by the bone-deep pain rolling over her.

She retched.

She didn’t even bother stifling her voice.

She sobbed, and heaved, shoulders shaking as her body tried and failed to summon up even just enough strength to curl up and protect her poor, bound-up little package - but even if she could, Boone put his hands on her hips and shoved her back down, holding her in place as he lined up with the thoroughly broken-in faghog.

Hand wrapped around his soda can-sized cock just long enough to aim, he leaned in, pushed it in-between her fat asscheeks, and thrust.

Portia’s back arched, and she screwed her eyes shut as she howled, sobbing and wailing at the top of her lungs as the sudden invasion of a cock at least as thick as her wrist stabbed into her from the wrong end set her guts on fire.

Boone had toyed with her too long. That thick coat of spit, pre, and throatslime she suffered so much to paint across each and every inch of his dick had all but completely dried up, leaving it more tacky than anything even remotely helpful in easing him inside her.

Not that Boone cared.

A low, lusty growl rumbled in his chest as he sank his prick inside his new fucktoy, and without wasting a second letting her adjust, he grabbed her hips and hauled her back to meet a merciless thrust that set Portia’s plush, squeezable frame quaking from the impact.

And as soon as he hilted inside her and crushed her lovebutton under his cock? He pulled back and did it all over again.

And again.

And again.

He mated with his new, fertile-looking faghog without even a hint of mercy or concern for her - not when she screamed herself raw as his bitchbreaker brutalized her asshole and left it red, raw, and stinging, not when she started babbling for mercy through her gag, pleading for him to stop slamming into her so hard that his heavy balls would clap against her poor, abused little beanbag, and not when she finally sagged into the desk, tits hanging over the edge like a cow’s udders while she grunted and whimpered like the subhuman bitch he had turned her into to prey on.

No, he just made sure he was awake enough to feel what was happening. Draping himself over her and wrapping his arms around her, all but swallowing her up in his presence, sinking his teeth into her shoulder while his hands roamed over her frame, mauling her tits and squeezing her tummy to make her ass tighten up as the pressure on the bruise from earlier sent waves of aching pain pulsing through her body.

And when that stopped entertaining him?

He just grabbed the back of the strap hooking her nose back and pulled, forcing her to raise her head and look at the door - forcing her to remember that her office was still unlocked. That anyone who heard the sound of her ass being brutally raped could come in and see how far she had fallen for themselves.

That kept her just on edge enough that Portia did her damndest to bite back each and every pained grunt and moan of unexpected pleasure he fucked out of her - and that she’d tighten up like he’d fucking donkey punched her each time there was so much as maybe a noise from outside.

He could tell that thrill - that terror - was getting to her. She clamped down like a vice grip around him for minutes after each time, and it was like she refused to let go in case the worst possible scenario for her reputation came to pass!

His hands had wandered lower too, though, and Portia’s piddly little cocklet was never more excited than when she was scared of losing everything like that…

It was starting to get to Boone too, though - and in more ways than one. He wanted to keep this secret as much as Portia did - and the thrill of buttfucking the uppity queer who’d been on his ass ever since he signed on might have been good, but each possible knock or voice shot him closer to finally unloading…

“Miss Hall…? You’re late for your eight o’clock…”

 Portia froze, and Boone practically snarled at the interruption, relishing the risk and the taboo even as the interruption annoyed him.

“Mmph…!” His piglet looked over her shoulder at him, the panic clear in her eyes.

“Is everything okay, Miss Hall…? Should I come in?”

Boone grinned like a feral animal. Better time than any.

Pulling sharply on the strap he was using to quite literally lead his boss around by the nose, he dragged her up into a standing position before letting the both of them fall back into her chair, letting his piggy-fag’s weight impale her on his dick while her tits bounced from the impact and the door opened to reveal the slim, elegant little lady Portia kept on as a personal assistant.

The poor girl’s eyes bugged out when she finally parsed the scene she was looking at - her boss, nearly naked, with her underwear stuffed into her mouth and thrashing like a fish on the line as her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, limp little cock jumping madly as it squirted worthless, impotent bitchnut all over the floor between her legs. Her belly poking out slightly as the cock stuffed into her shitpipe tented the skin where Boone’s fist bruised her. Her clothes scattered everywhere and her makeup and hair a complete, utter ruin.

Portia didn’t even notice her - she was too busy cumming her brains out as her own weight crushed her sissy-button against Boone’s monstercock as it pressed flush into her puffy, totally-destroyed asspussy and painted her insides white.

There was no sign of the prim, proper, powerful woman who was supposed to hold court in here.

Only a perverted human pig, fit only for taking cock.

“She’s busy…” Boone grunted tersely, hefting one of Portia’s fat tits in one hand and chewing on her shoulder as his other guided her into working her hips.

Her assistant gawped like a fish, opening and closing her mouth as she struggled to find the proper response.

“I… I see.” She finally managed, averting her eyes and looking away, cheeks burning as she watched her boss fall so completely to dick. “I’ll… come back later…”

“You do that.”

After the interruption ended, Boone let his new porn-piglet finally slump against him, her breathing hard and ragged as she tried and failed to put together an idea of what she should do next.

Boone let her, lazily rubbing her tummy as he softened slightly in her fucktunnel, he regarded her with a smug, almost triumphant look as he reached up to pluck out the droolsoaked panties he’d stuffed into her mouth and dropped them onto her desk to dry. This place was a pigsty in his opinion, so it wasn’t like it hurt the place’s feng shui much.

“Who are you?”

Portia was silent for a moment, regarding him with a slightly dazed look in her eyes.

“I’m your fagbitch piggy.”

Boone nodded. “You’re my piggybank too, from now on. All your cash? Mine as soon as I give the word, got it?”

Portia swallowed, and then nodded.

“You’re my punching bag, too. If ever and whenever I want to, you’ll let me come in here and work out my frustration on you.” He raised a hand and clenched his fingers into a fist tight enough to make his knuckles creak. “Doesn’t matter if it means I want to pound this slutty hogpussy of yours in the middle of the day, treat your balls like a speedbag, or just punch you in the gut for no reason. I come in, you drop everything until I’m satisfied.”

“... Yes…”

“Good cunt.” He pulled her down for a ‘kiss,’ dragging his tongue along her face before pushing it into her mouth and feeding the filth caked all around her mouth down her throat before spitting some extra drool in after it to wash it down for good measure. Portia swallowed without even thinking. “Now get back to riding me. I want to break my new office and my new slut in.”

Portia looked away, her now-limp prick drooling slightly and her still-bound balls pulsing with angry, aching pain as she listened to the growing, agitated murmurs outside.

No going back now.

The office’s apex predator had finally slipped up. She was fodder now, and the dirty little bottom-feeder she made the mistake of looking down on was eating up everything that made her what she was in the first place.

She lost. She finally met the bigger fish.

And now…

Now, there was no point worrying about appearances.

She raised her hips and started working her ass, working her core as hard as she could to make sure her new owner had a tight a hole to fuck as possible as he casually rained swatting little smacks on her perky, juicy ham-meat.