Chapter 13: The Human Glory Hole
The disinfectant sting bit Betty’s nostrils the moment Mri shoved her through the heavy men’s room door. "Kneel," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper that brooked no argument, his fingers digging into her shoulder as he forced her down onto the cold, gritty tile beside the first urinal. The cheap plastic mask, buckled tight behind her head, muffled her breathing and pressed uncomfortably against her cheekbones, leaving only her mouth exposed through a rigid oval hole. "Open." She obeyed, parting her lips just as the restroom door swung open again, admitting two men deep in conversation about quarterly reports. Their steps faltered.
"Whoa, Mri! What's this?" chuckled a voice Betty vaguely recognized as Dave from Sales.
"Office perk," Mri stated smoothly, his hand still heavy on Betty's head. "Anonymous relief. Think of her as a living fleshlight. Go on, Dave. Use her mouth. She's eager." Betty flinched as Dave's belt buckle jingled, the rasp of his zipper loud in the tiled space. A thick, warm cock slapped against her lips. "Suck it, slut," Dave grunted, pushing forward without preamble. Betty choked as the head forced past her teeth, the salty, musky taste flooding her mouth. Tears welled behind the mask as she gagged, her throat convulsing around the invading shaft while Mri watched, a faint smirk on his lips.
The door opened again. More footsteps. Roger’s voice cut through the haze of her humiliation. "Hey, Mri! Dave! Just washing up before the Condom Campaign review. Place looks busy." He sounded cheerful, oblivious, moving to the row of sinks just feet away. Water splashed as he turned a faucet. Betty froze, Dave’s cock still buried halfway down her throat, her pulse hammering against the plastic mask. "Yeah, Rog," Dave panted, his hips jerking shallowly, fucking her mouth with short, rough strokes, his balls slapping her chin. "Just trying out the new... amenity. Fuck, that’s tight."
"Really?" Roger’s voice dripped with a gossipy leer. "Heard about her. The kinky office slut they’ve got tucked away in here? Supposed to be unbelievable. Like a vacuum cleaner down there." He chuckled, the sound grating against Betty’s soul as Dave groaned, gripping her head and forcing himself deeper, his cockhead bumping the back of her throat, triggering another wave of gagging. Pre-cum slicked her tongue. "Yeah, man," Dave gasped, pulling back slightly only to thrust hard again, his pubic bone grinding against her lips. "Total throat goat. Swallows it like a champ."
Another man, hesitant, stepped up to the adjacent urinal. "Is this… allowed?" he murmured.
"Company policy today," Mri answered, his voice detached, clinical. "Take your turn. She swallows." The man unzipped. Betty felt a thinner, cooler cock nudge her lips beside Dave’s retreating one. She opened wider, her jaw aching, as the new stranger slid into the wet, messy space Dave had just vacated. She sucked mechanically, the taste changing slightly, her mind screaming while Roger, mere feet away, kept talking. "This Pure Lust campaign is going viral, Mri! My big break. Finally!" She felt the stranger’s cock twitch, a salty dribble hitting her tongue. "Betty’s gonna be thrilled," Roger added brightly, oblivious to the obscene slurping sounds inches from him as the man shuddered, spilling a thin stream of cum onto her waiting tongue. She swallowed convulsively.
"Done?" another voice – Carl from IT – asked eagerly, already unbuckling. The first stranger pulled out, his softening cock glistening with her spit, and stepped back. Carl shoved in immediately, thicker and hotter, grinding against her teeth. "Fuck yeah, deepthroat me, you filthy cocksucker," he grunted, hands tangling in her hair beneath the mask strap, forcing her nose into his coarse pubes. Betty’s eyes streamed behind the plastic, the combined taste of urine, sweat, and semen thick in her mouth. Roger turned off the tap, shaking his hands dry. "Gotta run, Mri. Big presentation. This campaign is gold!" He sounded triumphant. "That new girl’s got skill," Carl panted, hips pumping erratically, "but she ain't got shit on your wife’s cooking, Rog." Roger laughed, the door swinging shut behind him. "Damn right she doesn't!" His voice faded, leaving Betty choking on Carl’s cock, the fluorescent lights buzzing like hornets overhead, Mri’s cold gaze the only witness to her utter ruin.