Lance Hart’s Office Strap-On Ass Wreck Fury

Description: In the sterile glow of fluorescent lights buzzing like pissed-off bees in a high-rise office tower where suits shuffled like zombies and the air conditioner hummed a constant drone of corporate bullshit, there existed this slick bastard named Lance Hart, a bald-headed hunk with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and a body sculpted from hours in the gym that made every chick in the building drip just from stealing glances at his tight ass in those fitted slacks. Lance wasn't just any desk jockey; he was the sales kingpin, closing deals with that charming smirk and a voice smooth as whiskey, but behind closed doors, he was a cocky prick who loved pushing boundaries, flirting shamelessly with his superiors and underlings alike, always thinking his dick was the ultimate weapon in this cutthroat world of spreadsheets and power plays. Little did this arrogant fuck know that his latest screw-up, botching a million-dollar pitch because he was too busy eyeing the intern's cleavage, was about to land him in the hottest mess of his life, courtesy of his no-nonsense boss, Veronica, a fierce dominatrix in disguise with legs for days and a secret stash of toys that could make even the toughest stud whimper. Veronica ruled the floor like a queen bitch, her high heels clicking authority on the marble tiles, raven hair pulled back in a severe bun that screamed control freak, and her suits tailored to hug curves that promised heaven or hell depending on her mood. She'd caught Lance slacking one too many times, his bald dome shining under the lights as he bullshitted clients on calls while jerking off to porn on his second monitor. "That bald motherfucker thinks he's untouchable," Veronica muttered to herself in her corner office, overlooking the city skyline like a predator surveying prey. She had a plan brewing, one involving her favorite **strap-on domination** tool, a thick veiny beast she'd nicknamed The Enforcer, hidden in her locked drawer alongside contracts and condoms. Tonight, after hours when the building emptied like rats fleeing a sinking ship, she'd summon Lance for a "performance review" that would redefine **office strap-on punishment** in ways he'd never forget. Lance sauntered into Veronica's office at seven sharp, his tie loosened like he owned the place, that signature grin plastered on his face. "You wanted to see me, boss lady?" he drawled, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes raking over her blouse where nipples poked through the silk like invitations. Veronica stood, locking the door with a click that echoed finality, her expression cold as ice. "Sit your ass down, Hart. We've got issues." He plopped into the leather chair, legs spread wide in that manspreading bullshit, but Veronica circled him like a shark, her hands trailing the back of the seat. "You fucked up that deal, Lance. Cost us big. Time for consequences." Lance chuckled, thinking it was a joke, but Veronica yanked open her drawer, pulling out the harness and dildo, the silicone cock bobbing menacingly. "What the hell?" Lance stammered, his cocky facade cracking as she buckled it on over her skirt, hiking it up to reveal thigh-high stockings and no panties, her pussy already glistening with anticipation. "Strip, you worthless prick," Veronica commanded, her voice dripping venom and lust. Lance hesitated, but the fire in her eyes made his cock twitch despite the fear, his hands fumbling with buttons as he shed his shirt, revealing that chiseled chest dusted with hair, then pants dropping to expose his semi-hard dick swinging free. "Bend over the desk," she snarled, pushing him forward, his bald head reflecting the city lights from the window as his ass presented itself like a target. Veronica lubed the strap-on generously, the cool gel making Lance shiver when she dripped some on his crack, her fingers probing his tight hole, stretching him roughly. "Ever been pegged, Lance? This is your **Lance Hart pegging** initiation." He groaned, shaking his head, but her fingertip hit his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure that mixed with the burn, his dick hardening fully against the desk blotter. She positioned the tip against his pucker, teasing circles that had him gripping the edges white-knuckled. "Beg for it, you bald slut," Veronica hissed, slapping his ass cheek hard, leaving a red handprint. "Please, boss, punish me," Lance whispered, his pride crumbling as she thrust in slow, the head popping past the ring with a pop that made him yelp. Inch by inch, she filled him, the strap-on stretching his walls in that delicious agony, his body betraying him with moans as she bottomed out, her hips flush against his cheeks. "Fuck, it's huge," he grunted, but Veronica grabbed his hips, pulling back almost out before slamming home, starting a rhythm that rattled the desk drawers. "Take your **office strap-on sex** like a man," she growled, pounding relentlessly, each thrust hitting his sweet spot, making pre-cum leak from his cock onto the paperwork below. Lance's mind spun in a haze of humiliation and ecstasy, his bald dome sweating as Veronica dominated him completely, her hands roaming to pinch his nipples, twisting until he cried out. "You like getting your ass wrecked, don't you? All that macho bullshit, but deep down, you're a **femdom punishment porn** addict." She switched angles, grinding deep, the harness rubbing her clit with every motion, her own moans joining his as pleasure built for both. Lance pushed back instinctively, meeting her thrusts, his cock throbbing untouched, on the verge of exploding from the prostate massage alone. "Oh god, Veronica, I'm gonna cum," he begged, and she laughed, reaching around to stroke him roughly, her fist pumping in time with her hips. "Cum for me, you pegged pussy," she ordered, and he did, ropes of jizz splattering the desk, his ass clenching around the dildo in spasms that milked her own orgasm, her body shuddering as she ground against him. But punishment wasn't over; Veronica pulled out, leaving him gaping and empty, flipping him onto his back on the desk, papers scattering like confetti. "Clean it, bitch," she demanded, shoving the strap-on toward his mouth. Lance obeyed, tasting his own ass on the silicone, sucking like a pro while she watched, her eyes gleaming triumph. "Good boy. Now, round two." She climbed up, straddling his face, grinding her wet pussy against his tongue, forcing him to eat her out while she teased his sensitive cock back to life. "Lick it clean, Hart. Earn your forgiveness." His tongue delved deep, lapping at her folds, circling her clit until she bucked, flooding his mouth with her juices in a squirting climax that soaked his bald head. Revived, Lance's dick stood proud again, but Veronica had other plans. She repositioned the strap-on, sliding it back into his ass while mounting him reverse cowgirl, her pussy swallowing his cock in one slick motion. "Double the fun, you **Lance Hart anal** whore," she moaned, riding both ways, the dildo in him and him in her creating a symphony of slaps and squelches. Lance thrust up, matching her pace, the dual sensations blowing his mind, pleasure from front and back merging into one overwhelming wave. They fucked like animals, her ass bouncing on his hips, his hands groping her tits through the open blouse, pinching nipples that hardened like bullets. "Harder, boss, wreck me," he pleaded, and she did, grinding down until another orgasm ripped through her, her walls clenching his dick, triggering his second load deep inside her. Exhausted but insatiable, they collapsed onto the office couch, Veronica unstrapping the toy but not done dominating. "On your knees, Lance. Worship my feet while I plan your next **strap-on domination videos** session." He knelt, kissing her heels, sucking toes as she lounged, her hand lazily stroking his spent cock. "This is your new role, Hart. My personal fuck toy. Screw up again, and it'll be public." Lance nodded, addicted now to the power dynamic, his body aching in the best way. As the night wore on, they explored more, Veronica using office supplies creatively, binder clips on his balls for added torment, a ruler for spanking his ass red while she fingered him. Word of their encounter somehow leaked, whispers in the break room about Lance's late-night moans echoing through vents, inspiring other employees to fantasize about their own **guy pegged in office** adventures. Lance embraced it, showing up the next day with a subtle limp, his bald head held high but eyes submissive when meeting Veronica's gaze across the conference table. She promoted him, but with strings attached, secret meetings in supply closets where she'd bend him over boxes, quick peggings that left him leaking cum in his boxers during meetings. One afternoon, during a team building retreat, Veronica cornered him in the hotel suite, strap-on packed in her luggage. "Time for group punishment," she teased, inviting a colleague, Sarah, a busty brunette who'd overheard their fun. Sarah watched wide-eyed as Veronica pegged Lance doggy style on the king bed, his grunts filling the room. "Want a turn?" Veronica offered, and Sarah strapped on a smaller dildo, taking Lance's mouth while Veronica continued ass-fucking him, turning it into a spit-roast that had him cumming hands-free onto the sheets. Lance's reputation grew in underground circles, fans of **bisexual pegging scenes** seeking him out after hours, but he remained loyal to Veronica's dominance. They filmed amateur clips, blurring faces, uploading to sites under pseudonyms, racking up views with titles like **Lance Hart femdom** extravaganzas. In one vid, Veronica tied him to the desk with neckties, blindfolding him before inviting anonymous office sluts to peg him anonymously, his bald head bobbing in ecstasy as strangers took turns. Months turned to years, their bond deepening beyond kink, evolving into a twisted romance where **hardcore strap-on punishment** sessions kept the spark alive. Lance proposed during one, on his knees with the dildo in his ass, ring in hand. "Marry me, you dominant cunt," he gasped, and Veronica accepted, thrusting deeper in celebration. They hosted private parties, demonstrating **office anal revenge** techniques to select friends, Lance the willing demo model, his ass taking multiple strap-ons in a night of debauchery. One guest, a rival exec named Mike, challenged Lance, leading to a pegging duel where winners topped losers, Lance emerging victorious but submitting to Veronica afterward. Lance journaled every encounter, pages filled with vivid details: "Boss bitch reamed my hole with that fat strap-on, prostate exploding like fireworks, cum everywhere." He shared excerpts online, fueling forums buzzing with **Lance Hart pegging** tales. Their legacy inspired office romances worldwide, whispers of strap-on secrets in boardrooms. Lance thanked that fateful screw-up, transforming him from cocky salesman to pegged devotee. In retirement, they bought a penthouse, converting an office room into a dungeon replica, strap-ons lining walls. Nights sizzled with roleplay, Veronica the eternal boss, Lance the punished underling. One evening, revisiting the old tower, they snuck in, recreating the first punishment on Veronica's former desk, moans echoing empty halls. "Still got it, you bald fuck," she whispered, pounding away. Lance's transformation became myth, from alpha to sub, embracing the rush of surrender. Their love, forged in silicone and sweat, endured eternally. But the saga expanded; Sarah became a regular, forming a throuple of torment. Threesomes involved double pegging, Lance's ass and mouth filled, pussy riding his cock in overload. Jealousy nil, trust absolute, boundaries sacred. Epic nights: Chained to furniture, teased for hours before release, orgasms denied then granted in floods. Lance penned a book anonymously, "Corporate Pegging Confessions," detailing **strap-on domination** in suits. Bestseller in kink niches, readers masturbating to chapters on office escapades. Communities formed, online groups sharing **femdom punishment porn** inspired by them. Lance moderated, advising: "Consent first, then let the strap-on fly." Traveling, they lectured at sex cons, demos leaving audiences aroused. Back home, quiet dinners turned wild with a glance, dildos under tables teasing. Lance's bald dome, once a symbol of machismo, now marked submission, Veronica's bites scarring it lovingly. In the end, **office strap-on punishment** wasn't just sex; it was liberation, power exchanged in passion's grip. Forever entangled, Lance and Veronica reigned in their kinky kingdom.