I was caught. Asleep at my desk.
Currently, I'm working in the marketing department of my company. Sometimes, we send people to do product demonstrations; but for the most-part, I just sit at a computer all day, doing boring desk work. The company itself is pretty unremarkable, dealing in a variety of consumer products; from small electronics to larger things like furniture.
The boss has a strange sense of humour; so if someone messes up, he likes to give out little punishments in the form of product demonstrations. It's usually something ridiculous and embarassing, like a person who can't sing demoing a karaoke machine. Or a conservative man modeling the new line of women's apparel. So, after I was caught dozing off at my desk, I wasn't suprised that I was later asked to do a product demonstration. I wasn't really informed on what product I was going to demo, though; just given an address for one of the company's stores, and told that I would be filled in upon arrival.
As soon as I arrive, I'm rushed to change into a one-piece swimsuit. So, since it's summer and all, I figure I'm modeling swimwear, and that's it. It's blue, and pretty standard-looking, but it fits really tight, especially around the chest area. I consider asking for a larger size, but as soon as I come out of the changing room, I'm rushed off again, without a chance to say anything. This time, I'm sent into a small display room, with full-size windows taking up three walls. I'm told that the room faces the street, and that the sidewalk passing in front of it is pretty busy with pedestrians, this time of day. Currently, the windows have curtains drawn, so passers-by can't see in, yet. I note that the curtains appear to operate mechanically, and probably all open at once, at the press of a button.
The only other thing in the room with me is a large chair, with a strange futuristic design, like it could transform into a robot at any moment. I chuckle at the thought. It's also possible that this silly sci-fi inspired chair is what I'm supposed to demo. What do I do? Just sit in it all day, pretending like it's the most comfortable and stylish chair ever (and totally not ridiculous)? Even if that's not what they intended, I decide I'm sitting in it, anyway. I am the best at sitting on things.
As soon as I plant my ass on the thing and lean back, the chair seriously comes to life! A flat mechanical arm thing quickly flies out, wraps around my waist and locks into place on the other side, like a belt, strapping me to the chair. Then, similar straps shoot out of the arms and front legs of the chair, grabbing my wrists and legs and locking them into place. Around that time I start calling for help, as I have clearly angered the crazy haunted robot chair. Then, one of the store clerks comes in and tells me not to panic, as this chair is the product I'm meant to demonstrate. Apparently, it's a mechanical bondage chair thing, and a person is controlling it from another room. Then the clerk straps a ball-gag over my mouth and leaves the room. After she locks the door, the curtains open to reveal that a small crowd has already gathered in front of the display window. I blush a bit... Since I'm gagged, I can't explain the situation to them at all; that this is a product demonstration and so on. In spite of that, the members of the "audience" seems to have oddly eager looks on their faces. Like they already know what to expect.
Suddenly, two long mechanical arms come out of the sides of the chair, with robotic hands attached. And, of course, they go straight for my chest. Roughly examining each breast, through the thin fabric of my swimsuit, until my nipples become hard enough for the mechanical "fingers" to clamp down on them, tugging and squeezing for several minutes. Afterwards, as a bit of drool starts to drip out around the gag, they release my breasts and start to tug on the fabric of my swim suit; wasting no time in tearing it enough to allow my chest to spill out, for all to see. My blush deepens. I didn't know that this "punishment" would include being stripped in front of a group of strangers. My mind tells me that I should feel ashamed, but the pleased reactions of the onlookers is sort of boosting my self-esteem, a bit.
But I don't have much time to think about it, before the chair comes to life again and starts to change shape. The seat splits, forcing my legs to be spread apart, and sprouts some sort of padded stirrup things to hold up my legs; while the arms of the chair raise up and merge with the back, which then reclines a bit. So now I'm laying back a bit, with my arms bound above my head, and my knees raised up. And that's when those damn robotic hands start exploring again, this time fondling my thighs and ass, before starting to poke around my crotch area. Rubbing up and down, lightly pinching my pussy lips through the swimsuit. Then it quickly switched to tugging on the fabric, again, and pulling downwards so that it wedges beween my labia, before ripping away the entire seat of the suit.
With the way everything is positioned, my ass is facing the display window, so the ever-growing crowd of onlookers get a very good view of my crotch. The robotic hands go back to fondling my ass, spreading the cheeks apart, to expose my asshole, for good measure. Then a third hand appears to stroke my pussy a bit more, and uses two of its "fingers" to spread the lips open. And the hands stay that way, keeping everything spread wide open. Meanwhile, a few robotic tentacles had come out of some part of the chair, and started squirting some mystery fluid onto my body. Covering my breasts in it, leaving trails of it down my torso, dripping it all over my thighs, and eventually taking special effort to spray a lot onto my asshole.
Then the tentacles retract back to wherever they came from... except one, which continues to slither up and down the length of my pussy, between the lips, and rubbing its oozing tip around the rim of my asshole. mmm it feels pretty good, too, despite how humiliating this situation is. Then, the whole thing starts to vibrate; like a massage chair, but strong enough to make my breasts jiggle a little bit. And then out comes two tentacle arms with weird clear cup things on the ends, and they attach to my breasts, fitting so well that they are air-tight; and then the suction starts. Sucking rhythmically on my nipples, like some sort of milking machine. But they'll never get any milk out of me. So they just keep sucking and sucking, for several minutes. And all of this is making me pretty aroused, so little moans start to slip out, as I fidget in my seat.
And then everything stops. The vibration, the rubbing, the sucking, it all ceases, as more straps fly out of the chair and wrap around me, binding my body, arms, and legs to the contraption much tighter than before; as if whoever is controling the chair doesn't feel like I'm being "punished" enough, yet. And the suction things and oozing tentacle remove themselves and retract back into the chair. Then, the machine transforms again. No longer resembling a chair, it forces me into an upright position, very close to the display window, and then bends forward, so that my breasts and part of my face are pressed against the glass.
For a while, nothing else happens. I just have to stay that way, getting a clear look at the people staring intently at my nipples squished flat on the window. I'm really embarassed, by this turn of events. I can see some of them smirking and saying things, but I can't hear what they say. Some people have been using their camera phones to take photos, or perhaps videos. Noooo, don't photograph my naughty bits. Don't record me being molested by a chair! What if they share it with their friends, or put it all over the internet?? No no, don't humiliate me any more than this. My face is completely red, as I am forced to watch a large crowd of people watching me, seeing the perverted state that I'm in. What must they think of me, I wonder. Do they think I'm some slut who gets off on being teased by weird robots and having my private spots exposed in public? Or do they think I'm someone's sex slave, being punished for playing by myself without permission? Do they think I'm an exhibitionist who is silently begging for them to look closer at my dirty body? There's so much drool coming out of the holes of the ball gag, by now, that it's getting on the window; and my pussy is still throbbing from the earlier teasing. I think I can feel some of my juice dripping down my thigh. Can they see that? Can they hear me panting through the glass? Can they tell that being squeezed so tightly by all of these straps is making me more excited? Do they know that I'm starting to fantasize about what they would do to me, if there wasn't this glass blocking the way? Touching me all over with filthy, curious hands, sniffing the naughty scent coming from my crotch, tasting my exposed flesh... Would they put more bondage gear on me? Collars, ropes, chains, and more straps tying me tightly into whatever dirty poses they want. Would they take turns forcing me to take their swollen manhood into my mouth? Will they thrust roughly into my pussy? By now, I'm panting heavily, completely aroused by the situation I'm in.
After a while of that, I can hear something new coming out of the machine behind me, but I can't see it. And then, I realise why it was putting so much of that mystery fluid on my asshole, earlier. Something forces its way into my anus. I gasp and wince a bit. It's somthing thick and long. It eases in slowly as I pant and try to relax. Once it's in all the way, it pauses for a moment, to let me adjust to the size. And then it quickly slides- mmm... nearly all the way out, before- aahh... pounding its way back into me. Then it keeps going, in and out- mmm... making me moan every time it hits deep within me. Meanwhile, one of those robotic hands resumes teasing my crotch. Rubbing, pinching, and lightly spanking it, before finally settling on rubbing the clit. oohhh...
While it continues like this, I can't do anything else but enjoy it and watch the crowd, who have started getting excited themselves. Some of whom are bold enough to open their pants and start stroking their cocks. Do they know that I'm watching their crotches intently? Can they tell that I'm imagining everyone spraying their sperm all over my body? After several minutes of being pounded in the ass by the machine's giant "cock," and getting teased relentlessly up front, it starts to feel really good and I think I'm probably close to climax. Since this is a bondage and punishment type scenario, I wonder if I should be asking some "master" for permission to orgasm. But since I'm gagged and there's no one on this side of the glass to ask, I figure it doesn't matter; and continue panting and moaning, and trying to squirm within all the straps.
Then, suddenly, the machine stops again. It pulls its robotic cock out of my ass and removes its hand from my crotch, and transforms back into its original chair-like form, away from the window. And then I'm released from all of the straps. Apparently free to go. Looking back at the door, I notice that at some point, my clothes were left over there, folded and stacked on the floor. huh.
I'm kind of dissipointed that I didn't get to "finish," and the crowd on the other side of the window looks a little dissipointed, too. So I do the only thing that seems logical at the moment... I sit down on the floor, right in front of the window, with my legs spread; giving everyone a better look at my naughty pussy, and at how wet it became from being watched, while being violated by a crazy chair robot. Then, switching to a kneeling position, I use my hand to masturbate, right there, while lightly rubbing my hard nipples against the cold glass. mmmm... ahhhh... I sandwich my middle finger between my pussy lips and rub my hand up and down, against my clit. oohhh... Thrusting my hips along with it... mmmmMMMM... aaaahhhh... Once I'm finally able to have my orgasm, the audience rewards me with a shower of cum... spalttered against the outside of the display window.
Afterwards, the curtains close. So, I go over to where my clothes are, and notice there is also an envelope stuffed with money, addressed to a name that is definitely not mine. Come to think of it, no one asked for my name, or what company I worked for, before rushing me off to change into that swimsuit.
I think someone made a mistake somewhere.
So, I dress as quickly as possible, pocket the money, and rush out of there without speaking to anyone. And when I go into work, the next day, the boss asks me why I never showed up for the kitchen appliance demonstration that I was supposed to do. At a store on a completely different street, with a woefully similar-looking name.
OOPS!
