les histoires de chrislebo

Jenny Goes To Work

The following night, being Friday, Jenny locked up just after nine. As she turned round the black Mercedes pulled beside her and the door was opened. She got in and Eddie Coombs was sitting there again.

"I'm not dressed for a party."

"Believe me, you're just what the boss wanted," responded Eddie with his usual snigger.

It was a quiet trip. They arrived at the hotel on Crompton's hill, just outside the town. The party was clearly in full swing. Eddie led Jenny upstairs to a suite.

"Wait here."

Jenny sat in the room in boredom for over an hour. Finally the door was opened and a young man, clearly the man of the party and Paul Tierney entered.

"Well Billy, here she is. Just as I promised. I'll leave you to her. Have a good night," he laughed left, closing the door behind him.

'He is handsome,' thought Jenny.

The attraction ended when he growled, "Well, what are you waiting for, you stupid bitch? Get your fucking clothes off. Let's see the goods."

She just wanted to cry but didn't. Slowly she unbuttoned her blouse. It wasn't quick enough, as the young man got impatient. He walked over and simply ripped it.

"Now get it off."

Tears came to her eyes as she removed the ripped garment and fearing he would get impatient again, quickly unzipped and dropped her skirt. Finally, she stood naked before him. She covered her breasts and pussy with her hands. She had never been naked in front of anyone, even her boyfriend. The young man suddenly struck her across her face.

"Put your hands down by your side," he yelled.

Jenny reluctantly obeyed. She felt humiliated. She could see he was studying her body, particularly her firm breasts and trimmed pussy. She could see too, that he had a huge hard on.

He suddenly pushed her onto the bed and threw himself on her, kissing her lips and then cruising down her nakedness with his tongue and lips, stopping only briefly to undress, garment by garment, piling them on the floor.

He resumed his licking and sucking, concentrating on her breasts and nipples. As much as she hated this bastard ravaging her, the tingling of her breasts aroused Jenny. He continued down her body and the tongue action on her pussy made her moan.

"Oh my God," she exhaled several times. She thought she was going to cum there and then but he withdrew his tongue and for a moment there was an anti climactic feeling. Then she felt his huge dick being pushed in. The gentle, stroking movement picked up pace with every stroke and eventually her own body began to match the pace. They were both soon lost in a world of sexual lust. Jenny simply could not resist it and the young man simply didn't care.

He pounded and pounded and Jenny actually enjoyed it. They both moaned loudly. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," the young man yelled excitedly.

"Oh God, come on. Come on," yelled Jenny, with equal excitement. Her love juices began to gather and she knew the young man was close to cumming. The heat of their bodies increased their excitement and eventually Jenny climaxed just as an eruption of cum in her pussy made them both gasp for air like it was their last.

Exhausted, they both fell asleep.

The brightness of the morning woke Jenny. The young man had wrapped himself around her. She gently eased him off and slipped out of the bed. She went to the bathroom and showered with extra vigour, as if trying to destroy the evidence of her ravishment. She quickly dressed and only then realised her blouse was totally ripped. She covered herself with her jacket and opening the room door stole out only to see Eddie outside.

"Well. He must have had a good time," he grinned. "We'll take you to your car."

When she got home, Jenny changed into casual clothes. She was too bewildered to go to work and sat there most of the day trying to make sense of what had occurred the previous night.

Anne Carter Gets A "Companion"

Two weeks after her *********** at the hands of Paul and his goons, Anne Carter made her way to the study, having being summoned by Paul. Upon entering the study she was surprised to see a young woman in her mid twenties dressed in a maid outfit.

"Ah, there you are. This is Sarah Mansfield, ******** of Lefty Mansfield. She's our new maid. She'll be company for you too. Show her around the house and instruct her as to your own wishes."

"It's not bad enough that you keep me prisoner? You have to spy on me too?"

"Just do as you're told."

"Come on then" and Sarah followed Anne out of the study, to the kitchen. There Anne instructed her on her various duties.

That night, for the first time in weeks, Anne found her stepson waiting for her in bed. She hated having to strip naked in front of him. Worst of all, she could feel the his lust by his simple stare. When she got under the sheets, Paul roughly pinned her down and without any foreplay, simply drilled his hardened penis deep inside her, pounding at will. When he finally came, Anne too climaxed, but it was not a joyous one.

"That was great," he said breathlessly and turned and slowly fell a*****. Anne in contrast, did not ***** at all and simply dreamt of somehow escaping.

Monday

Some weeks later, Paul was in London again but was expected back very soon. Anne was walking along the hall and was surprised to see the door to the study slightly open. She discreetly looked in and to her astonishment, saw Sarah going through the papers on Paul's desk. She slipped in and quietly closed the door.

"What the hell are you doing, Sarah?"

Sarah jumped."Oh, Ms. Carter. I can explain...."

At that moment Anne heard Paul and some others enter the doorway.

"My God, if he catches us in here, we're both dead. This way, quickly," and grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her to the door that led to the library. There, both women remained in an anxious and tense silence hoping nothing would be noticed. After a while Anne opened the door into to the hall and checked to see that the way was clear.

"Head back to the kitchen. I'll talk to you later."

Sarah did so and turned to Anne and gave a silent, "Thank you." Anne stole up the stairs to her own room.

That same day Barbara Weston was in her boutique. It had been several weeks since her **** and *********** at the hands of Paul Tierney. She could not get it out of her head. She couldn't go to the police about it. Instead she remained tense and moody. Try as she might, Debbie Morgan, her assistant could not get her to open up about it.

That afternoon Barbara received a phone call. She recognised Eddie's voice at once.

"You'll be picked up after work on Thursday. The boss has something special planned for you."

The receiver went down and Barbara held her head in despair.

"Oh, my God," she cried.

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of Debbie's voice.

"Is everything alright, Mrs. Weston?"

"What? Oh yes, thank you Debbie."

Tuesday

On Tuesday evening, Paul Tierney hosted a get together for his London contacts. "Sarah" handed around the ****** and food.

"Hey Paul, Who's the new bird?" asked Jimmy Hicks, one of Paul Tierney's oldest friends.

"Oh. She's Lefty Mansfield's ********," responded Paul.

When the party wound down, Hicks pulled Paul aside and spoke in a low voice.

"She's not Lefty's ********. His ******** died of an overdose last year."

"Are you sure?"

"I should know. Sarah Mansfield was my Godchild."

Paul nodded to one of his men and whispered something in his ear. The man nodded positively and left.

Later that evening, Paul was in his study with two of his thugs when there was a knock at the study door.

"Come in."

The door opened and Sarah walked in.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Tierney?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Sarah was startled by the question.

"I'm Sarah Mansfield," she stuttered.

Paul nodded.

One of the men grabbed her arms and the other punched her in the stomach twice, leaving her gasping for air. He ripped open her blouse and buttons flew wildly in every direction. He then ****** her bra apart, exposing her firm breasts. He began to lick and suck them.

Sarah closed her eyes in disgust.

He stopped and two more blows were delivered to her stomach and twice more she was struck across her face. Her nose began to *****.

"Too bad boss. Her tits taste nice."

"Not for long," replied Paul.

Sarah opened her eyes and saw Paul brandishing red hot iron rod in front of her.

"Please. No," she begged.

"Then tell me what I want to know."

She remained silent.

Paul pressed the iron to Sarah's naked breast with sadistic relish and she screamed with extreme pain.

In the meantime Anne Carter was in her room, unaware of "Sarah's" fate. When she heard the screams, Anne jumped.

'My God. That was Sarah,' she thought.

She ran downstairs. Again she heard Sarah scream. Anne hesitated at the door, remembering the last time she entered the study. Another scream however, strengthened her resolve and she pushed the doors open.

"Oh my God, Paul. What are you doing to Sarah?"

"She's not Sarah. She's working for the police or worse and I want to know what she knows. Now get out."

"For God sake. Tell him who you're working for," yelled Anne in panic.

Sarah couldn't or wouldn't speak.

"She's working for Harry Trenton's mob."

"What? How do you know?"

"If your guards were doing their job right they would have seen her talking to one of his cronies at the gate yesterday," responded Anne.

"Yeah. You're right. Security has been very lax. We'll have to review it. Get rid of her in the usual way."

A horrified Anne screamed,"Paul, think, if you **** her, you'll have a ********* on your hands. You can't afford that. If you keep her alive, Trenton will think his strategy is working."

Paul stroked his chin." You're right. She's more valuable alive. You're smarter than I thought. I'll have to keep my eye on you."

Anne turned to one of the men."Bring her up to her room."

He turned to Paul and he nodded.

"Get me hot water and clean sheets," yelled Anne to the second man. He too, turned to Paul and he again nodded.

When Sarah was placed on the bed, Anne turned to the man.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get out and let her have some dignity."

"The boss said not to let her out of my sight."

"Look at her. Does she look like she's going anywhere? Now get out."

"T,- thank you. Ms. Carter," stammered Sarah in a weak and breathless voice.

Anne placed a cool damp cloth on her forehead to try and lower her temperature.

"I've only gotten us a temporary reprieve, Sarah or whatever your name is. Paul doesn't have his ******* brains but he's much more vicious and he'll stop at nothing to get what he wants."

"Yes, I know." Sarah struggled for breath.

"Please don't talk. Just rest."

"Please you've got help me."

"Help you? How?" asked Anne doubtfully.

Sarah tried to raise hand.

"Top drawer."

Anne went to the dresser and opened it. She found a folder of documents.

"Please. You've got to get them to Chief Inspector Burnham. Promise me."

"I promise," replied Anne, with tears rolling down her eyes, totally amazed at this young woman's heroism. So that's what she was. If Paul knew this, he wouldn't think twice about ****ing her.

The door handle turned and Anne crammed the documents inside her blouse as the man arrived with the water and towels. Anne stayed all night in Sarah's, trying to think of away to get the documents out of the house.

Wednesday

Chief Inspector Jack Burnham was sitting at his desk reading reports when a knock came to his office door.

"Come in."

It was Sergeant James Rawlings.

"Yes Sergeant?"

"Sir, its Constable Lombard. She hasn't been heard from for over forty eight hours now."

Oh my God. Anything at all?"

"No sir."

"Sir, we could raid the place."

"On what evidence Sergeant? Remember the last time we raided. We do any thing like that without evidence again and we'll all face a hanging. What's the name of the woman Sergeant Lyons spoke about?"

"Weston, sir. Mrs. Barbara Weston."

Chief Inspector Burnham sat alone brooding.

'Damn you, Tierney. If you've done anything to that girl it'll be your fatal error. I promise. I won't rest until I see you in jail,' he thought .

Thursday

Just after Barbara locked up, the black Mercedes pulled up in front of her. The door opened and she got in. Unknown to her or the occupants of the car, they were observed by Debbie Morgan from her car, parked in the side street around the corner. She dialled her mobile.

"It's me again. She's been picked up. Will follow at a distance and see where it leads," Debbie switched off and drove discreetly behind them.

After a while, it was apparent that they were not heading to the Tierney mansion as Barbara had anticipated and she started to panic.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked anxiously.

"Just relax, Mrs. Weston. You'll find out soon enough," responded the stranger.

A few minutes later, the Mercedes entered through the gates of the local soccer ground. Barbara could hear cheering and chanting as they did so.

"Well. You're just in time for the celebrations," a familiar voice said.

It was Eddie Coombs, the man in charge of Tierney's casino.

"What celebrations?"

"The boss's team won the cup and he promised the team a special bonus," leading Barbara to the changing room where most of the team were naked or wrapped in towels.

"Well boys, the boss promised you a bonus for winning and here she is."

Barbara was pushed towards the cheering men and they began to strip her violently. Her protesting screams were drowned by the men cheering or singing. She was carried naked to the showers and made to stand. The jets of steamy water descended on her as she felt a huge cock being ****** up through the orifice of her arse and another drove deep inside her pussy. Multiple hands covered her naked body and she felt both her breasts being enthusiastically sucked. Both her nipples were tingling as tongues wrapped around them.

As soon as cum exploded in both her pussy and arse, cocks were withdrawn and two more replaced them. Her breasts too received new mouths that continued sucking and licking. Her screams were still drowned out by the cheers as each of the team came inside her. Barbara finally realised she was "servicing" the entire team, including the four substitutes. When all fifteen men had spent their loads, Barbara lay on the floor, exhausted and hoping her ordeal was over.

Eddie came up to her.

"Come on babe. You're only half done."

He dragged Barbara to the other dressing room, where the opposing team were.

"The boss has asked me to thank you for a great game and as a sign of no hard feelings he asked me to present you with a little consolation prize. She's pretty sore and can't fuck you all but she sure can suck," and Eddie threw her to the floor.

They all laughed.

"So who's first?"

"Me," yelled the tallest one and grabbed Barbara Weston by the hair.

"No. Please," she begged. But to no avail as a huge, hardened cock was driven deep into her mouth and down her throat. She thought she would *****. She was made suck all fifteen cocks. By now she was sick as well as exhausted.

When she retrieved her clothes, she found everything but her overcoat in shreds.

"I can't wear these."

"Well. We can't send you home naked, can we?" replied Eddie, with a grin."Now, there's a thought," and he stroked his chin,"Nah. You've been a good bitch. Let's see if Ms. Carter can help you out."

"Who?"

"The boss's other half. You fucked each other a few weeks ago."

'So that's who she was,' thought Barbara, 'A little old for him,' not realising Anne Carter was also Paul Tierney's sex slave **********.

Barbara got into the Mercedes with Eddie, wearing nothing but her shoes and grey overcoat as they headed once again for the Tierney mansion.

Upon arrival Eddie got out and led Barbara into the hall. Anne Carter was standing on top of the stairway.

"Ah, Ms. Carter. This lady had an accident with her clothes and wondered if she could borrow something from you," said Eddie with a sarcastic grin.

Anne couldn't believe her luck, but she knew she had to think and act fast.

"Well come up to my room. I'm sure I have something that fits you."

When both women were in the room, Anne closed the door and whispered,"Look, I don't have time to explain this but I need your help."

Anne handed her some underwear as well as a skirt and blouse.

"What do you mean?"

"There is a young woman next door, badly beaten. I'm sure she's from the police. If my stepson finds out he'll **** her for sure."

"What can I do?"

"Please, take these and give them to Chief Inspector Burnham," and she stuffed them into the inside pocket of Barbara's overcoat. The door knob to the room turned and Anne grabbed Barbara by her head and kissed her passionately. Anne's eyes turned towards the door and Eddie stuck his head in. Anne Carter broke the kiss.

"What the fuck do you want? Don't you believe in knocking?"

"Oh sorry, Ms. Carter. But the boss wants to see the lady," he said in a genuinely embarrassed tone.

"Well, let her get some clothes on first, now get out."

When Barbara was dressed and was about to leave, Anne turned her around and put her hands up in a begging manner and pleaded silently.

Paul Tierney was sitting at his desk in his study just as he was the first night Barbara had met him.

"Well, Barbara dear, I heard you had a great time."

"I'd hardly call it that, Mr. Tierney. What do you want?"

"Now, now, Barbara. Remember, you and your precious husband owe me quite a bit."

"Please Mr. Tierney, I told you, we'll pay it back."

"Oh you'll pay it back alright. Now drop your knickers."

"Please, Mr. Tierney?"

A look of anger flashed across his face. It made Barbara shudder. She put her hands under her skirt and slipped them down.

Tierney put his hand out and she handed them to him. He sniffed them.

"They smell familiar," he said, with a sarcastic grin.

He got up from behind his desk and pushed her onto the sofa.

Barbara was terrified the papers in her coat would be discovered.

"Something about you makes me very horny," and he simply undid his pants, mounted her and drove his hardened dick deep within her. Once again, the rhythm was slow but gradually built up pace. Despite her earlier ordeal at the soccer grounds, Barbara found her own body was reacting to his pounding. Her love juices started to build and she could feel that Tierney was close to cumming to. They both began to gasp for breath and Barbara held Tierney as if her life depended on it.

Eventually both exploded in climax and screamed in sexual exhilaration. Tierney turned to Barbara and spoke breathlessly.

"Well Barbara, I said it before, you're a great fuck," and he pulled up his pants,"Oh. I almost forgot why I called you here. I'm giving a party for a friend of mine tomorrow night. Eddie will pick you up at eight after work."

He said no more and Eddie signalled her to follow him to the car. They drove to the car park and Barbara, humiliated and exhausted got out to head for her car.

"See you tomorrow night, then," said Eddie with his now familiar grin and the Mercedes headed off. Barbara got into her own car and drove towards home. She pulled into a lay by along the way and examined the documents. There was a note attached.

"Who ever you are, I beg you, take these papers to the police. I am a prisoner here and the young woman I am trying to save, I'm sure, is from the police. Both our lives depend on you.

Anne Carter.

Barbara Weston at once turned her car around and drove to the police station, determined to see Chief Inspector Burnham. She arrived at the station and at the front desk asked to speak with Inspector Burnham. A man in his early thirties, wearing a smart suit came out.

I'm sorry, madam, but the Inspector is gone home. I'm Sergeant Rawlings, his assistant, can I help you?"

Barbara spoke in an anxious tone.

"Look Sergeant, I was given these papers tonight by a very frightened woman. She begged me to give them to Inspector Burnham." With that she placed the bulky envelope on the desk. The young man examined the contents of the envelope.

"My God. Where did you get these?" he asked in utter amazement.

"A woman at the Tierney mansion. I believe she is Tierney's **********."

"You better come this way miss?"

"Mrs. Barbara Weston."

It was then the penny dropped for Sergeant Rawlings. 'Of course,' thought Rawlings 'Debbie Lyons' link.'

He led Barbara to a small office.

"Please sit down. Some tea?"

Barbara nodded and he asked the young police woman to bring two. He dialled a number on the phone.

"Hallo, Chief Inspector? I'm sorry to ring you sir but it's about the Tierney case sir. Some evidence has turned up. I think you'll want to see this sir. I think we've got the bastard." He spoke like an excited schoolboy. Rawlings put the phone down.

"He's on his way."

A half an hour later, Chief Inspector Burnham was poring through the documents brought by Barbara Weston.

"My God, Rawlings, look at these names. Heads are going to roll. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes sir. It did occur to me."

Inspector Burnham and Rawlings rejoined Barbara in the office.

"I apologise for taking so long, Mrs. Weston, but these documents will put Tierney away for a long time. We owe you a debt of gratitude."

"All I did was smuggle them out, Inspector. The real heroes are those two women who are still at the mansion and they are in great danger. What happens now?"

"I've applied for permission to raid. We'll do it tomorrow night."

"Tierney is a vicious killer, Inspector. He'll think nothing of killing those two women as soon as you strike."

"I know," conceded the Inspector. "But I don't see what alternative we have."

"Inspector, He's giving some sort of party for his mafia mob tomorrow night. He expects me to be there. If I can slip away, I can warn them both and signal you by text message when to strike."

"Do you realise what you're saying Mrs. Weston? What danger you're putting yourself into?"

"I'm not a brave woman, Inspector. But that bastard has nearly ruined my marriage and my life. Please, give me a chance to do something to get even?"

Burnham looked at Rawlings and the latter shrugged his shoulders.

"It could be Lombard's only chance, sir."

A reluctant Inspector Burnham stroked his face. "I don't like it. One of my officers is already in danger as well as a civilian. It doesn't seem right to ask you to do this."

"I'm the one doing the asking. Please, you've got to let me do this?"

"Ok, Mrs. Weston, but if this goes wrong, God help us all."

The plans were agreed. When she was picked up at the boutique, Barbara would be discreetly followed and the raiding party would be strategically placed near the grounds of the Tierney residence, waiting for the signal to strike.

Friday

Jenny was tired. It had been a long day in the shop. She turned, having locked the door to see two men standing there. They manhandled her into a waiting blue car. "Just relax and enjoy the ride."

They arrived at the Tierney mansion and another man led her to a room.

"Get your clothes off and put this on."

"But it's just an apron."

"Do as your fucking told, unless you want the boss to know you weren't cooperating?"

Jenny reluctantly undressed and donned the apron. The curves of her breasts were exposed as were her bare arse cheeks. There was also a pair of black high heels.

"The boss want's you to serve the ******. No sex tonight," grinned the man. For the rest of the evening, a humiliated Jenny served the ****** and had to contend with being pinched, slapped and fondled. She battled the temtation to cry and just prayed it would soon be over, unaware of the events to come.

Just as Barbara closed up at nine that night, the now familiar black Mercedes pulled up in front of her. Eddie Coombs was in the back. He opened the door and she got in. The short drive to the mansion was in silence and uneventful. Barbara could hear the sounds of people chattering and laughing and soft music being played. When they arrived at the front door Eddie opened the door and they both got out.

"I'm not dressed for a party," said Barbara, seeing everyone in dinner attire.

"You're dressed just right. Besides, you won't be at the dinner proper. You have other 'duties' to perform." Eddie gave his usual sarcastic grin. He led Barbara to one of the upstairs bedrooms. "Wait here."

A few moments later the door opened and a small overweight man entered the room. He came over to Barbara and sniffed. "You smell nice anyway."

He reeked of *******. Barbara could smell it from him.

"Well, we haven't all night. Get your clothes off," and with that he undressed in a disorganised manner. At the same time, Barbara reluctantly undressed and in contrast to her 'client' folded everything neatly out of habit. She got onto the bed and then her bull of a client, reeking of *******, climbed on top of her and drove his huge dick deep inside her. He pounded her for what seemed ages. In contrast to her previous experiences, Barbara felt nothing but a desire that this would end. Not even her body reacted.

Eventually, he came inside her, exhaling a large moan. As for Barbara, it was merely a moan of relief. Shortly after he stopped, the man fell into a deep *****. When she felt confident enough, Barbara pushed his bulky frame from her and easing herself out of the bed, dressed as quickly as possible. She slowly opened the room door and stole out and walked along the corridor, trying to find where Anne Carter and the police officer were.

She suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from a room. It was Anne Carter. "Please, Sarah. You've got to hang on. Please," she begged.

At that moment, Barbara heard another familiar voice calling her. It was Eddie Coombs. "What are you doing there?" he yelled.

Barbara opened the door and ran in, slamming it behind her as Eddie rushed to stop her.

"Help me, quickly," yelled Barbara as she tried to push the heavy dresser up to the door. They both pushed and heaved and just got it to the door as Eddie started banging.

"Open this fucking door," he repeated, banging as he did so.

"Get down. All hell is about to break loose," and as she said this, reached for her phone, concealed in her bag and sent the agreed signal.

Chief Inspector Burnham sat impatiently in his car. Suddenly his phone beeped.

"Secure" flashed up. The Inspector didn't waste a second.

"All units, Go, go, go."

The motorcade of blue light flashing vehicles drove through the gate of the Tierney residence. Most of the guards simply fled at the sight, hoping to evade capture. One large van was backed carefully up to the door of the mansion. The doors of this van were flung open and a squad of about a dozen armed officers leapt out. A small battering ram was used to ***** the door and the officers charged in.

"Police. Nobody move," yelled one of them.

Burnham came into the hall. He turned to a female member of the raiding party.

"Follow me Sergeant."

The young woman, weapon in hand, did so as they climbed the stairs. Reaching the corridor, Burnham called out to Eddie.

"You're under arrest Coombs."

Eddie simply gave his trademark sinister smile and produced a gun from his pocket.

"Drop it Coombs."

Eddie was about to squeeze the trigger when a shot rang out and he flew back and crashed to the floor, nursing his shoulder. Burnham knocked at the door.

"Who is it?" Barbara shouted.

"The cleaning crew. Open up."

Barbara nodded to Anne and they once again heave and pushed the dresser in the opposite direction and opened the door. Burnham, Rawlings and the young female police officer made their way in.

Thank God, you're both alright," said Burnham.

I'm afraid Sarah is not so good. She has some sort of infection," responded Anne.

"Get the ambulance people up here. Now!"

Burnham knelt beside the bed.

"My dear girl. What has he done to you?"

"She keeps calling for Jimmy."

"That's her four year old ***," responded the Inspector.

"Oh God," cried Anne.

The ambulance crew gently lifted her onto the stretcher and swiftly carried her away.

"It's good to see you're ok, Mrs. Weston," came a familiar female voice.

Barbara turned around and the young officer, dressed in armour, with gun in hand was facing her. Only when this young woman smiled did Barbara recognise who it was.

"D-Debbie?" and suddenly, everything went black.

When she came round, Anne Carter was kneeling at one side and Debbie, minus her helmet and weapon on the other.

"Debbie. You're a police officer?"

"I'm sorry to deceive you, Mrs. Weston but..."

She was interrupted by Burnham.

"Debbie was acting under my direct orders, Mrs. Weston. It would have put you in danger and jeopardised the whole operation. Let me properly introduce you. Mrs. Weston, this is Detective Sergeant Debbie Lyons."

"Detective Sergeant?"

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Weston," smiled Debbie.

"I'm going to get a new assistant, aren't I?"

"Oh, I think we can work something out there," responded Debbie as she looked at Anne Carter.

"Sir? If it's alright with you, I'll take Mrs. Weston home."

"Yes of course. Oh and Sergeant?"

"Yes sir?"

"Thank you."

"You're more than welcome sir," responded Debbie with a smile.

Barbara turned to Anne.

"Where will you go?"

"Oh. I'll find somewhere."

Barbara put her hand in hers. "Come home with me. We have some unfinished business."

As they were about to leave, another familiar female voice caught Barbara's attention. It was Jenny Arnold, protesting her innocence, while being led away, handcuffed, by a police officer.

"Look Debbie. That's young Jenny from the jewellers."

Debbie walked over to her.

"It's ok Bob. You can release her. We know who she is."

"Ok, Sarge."

"Mrs. Weston, Debbie. What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story Jenny, You're probably here for the same reason I am, and Debbie is, as you can see, a police officer."

"Let's get you all home," said Debbie and led them all to her car. "I don't have to tell you that we need all your statements. The sooner the better while it's fresh in your minds. Right now you can all do with some rest." They all nodded.

Burnham went downstairs. Tierney was being led, handcuffed from the large dining area. "You'll regret this Burnham. I've got friends..."

"You haven't a friend in the world, Tierney. Your 'friends.' are all 'retired.' Take him away. Oh, and Sergeant, read him his rights."

"With pleasure sir," grinned Rawlings.

It was after midnight when Barbara and Anne arrived at the Weston's home. When they entered, George was pacing up and down in the hall. Seeing Barbara, he ran to his wife and embraced her passionately.

"Oh my dear woman, I was worried sick."

Barbara returned the embrace and kissed her husband passionately.

Anne turned to leave. Barbara stopped her.

"George, this is Anne Carter. She's staying here for a bit."

George put out his hand.

"Hallo Anne, and welcome."

Barbara recounted to George all that had occurred.

"Oh Barbara. I'm so, so sorry," cried George.

Barbara held her husband. "It's alright George. It's all over now. Why don't you go to bed? I'll show Anne to her room and I'll join you later."

George nodded and headed upstairs. A few moments later, Barbara led Anne to the spare bedroom. She suddenly turned round and catching Anne, she kissed her passionately.

"I just had to do that."

Anne responded with an equally passionate kiss and both women undressed each other in a frenzy of lesbian lust. For both naked beauties, it was the first time they had experienced true lesbian love. Both their bodies responded to each other's gentle touch. Barbara, after a few moments, gathered her breath.

"Well? What about it? Will you be my new assistant and lover?"

"Yes," responded Anne in a long breathless tone and kissed her new found lover.

Barbara got up and dressed. "***** well, lover. We have things to discuss and arrange tomorrow," and blew her a kiss before she left.

Anne Carter rested on the bed felt a free woman for the first time in years. Barbara and George made love is if it were their first time. It didn't take George long to realise that there was more to Barbara and Anne's relationship. He remained silent. 'After all, he argued to himself. I owe my wife big time for what I had put her through and our own love life has picked, so why should I complain?'

Amélie piégée


J'aimerai écrire une histoire à quatre mains. Avec un homme ou une femme. Peu importe l'essentiel c'est que nous partagions les mêmes fantasmes et le même plaisir dans l'écriture.
Vous pouvez aussi me laisser vos commentaires. Voici déjà une histoire...

Marc était maintenant sûr de gagner *** pari avec Raphaël. Non seulement il allait empocher 100 euros, mais en plus il allait bien s'amuser avec elle. Elle est si naïve.

Amélie se retrouve avec *** amant sous la douche. Sous le jet délicieux, Marc la frôle, l'effleure, puis l'enlace. Qu'il est puissant! Elle a l'impression d'être un jouet, une poupée malléable. A un moment, *** amant la mord, laissant sa marque dans *** cou. Comment va-t-elle justifier ça à *** mari? Les remords reviennent. Elle trompe Paul et qui plus est avec cet homme qu'elle connaît à peine. Et pourtant, elle s'est donnée à lui si facilement. Si entièrement. C'était il y a deux nuits. Et maintenant elle est de nouveau chez Marc. Un simple coup de fil et elle a accouru. N'avait-elle pas eu tord. Et cet autre type, dans la chambre à côté. Ce Raphaël. Pourquoi Marc ne lui a t'il pas demandé de déguerpir quand elle est arrivée? Amélie avait pourtant bien montré sa déception en découvrant cet homme dans le salon alors qu'elle s'attendait à être seule avec *** amant. Mais Marc n'avait-il pas arboré un sourire moqueur en accueillant Amélie? « On t'attendait avec impatience, ma chérie ». A quoi jouait-il donc? On aurait dit qu'il le faisait exprès! Méfiante elle s'était dirigée vers une chaise, histoire d'être le plus loin possible des deux hommes assis sur le canapé. Mais Marc l'avait surprise et en lui agrippant le bras au passage, il l'avait attirée à lui. « Allez fais pas ta boudeuse ». Elle détestait qu'il lui parle ainsi. Mais, elle s'était retrouvée malgré elle sur les genoux de *** homme, avec l'autre sale type qui n'arrêtait pas de reluquer ses seins et ses cuisses. Et Marc insidieusement tirait constamment *** bassin en arrière jusqu'à ce qu'elle finisse par se retrouver pratiquement assise sur le membre de *** amant. Elle était d'autant mal à l'aise, que chaque fois qu'elle prononçait une phrase, ils en profitaient pour faire des allusions graveleuses. Jusqu'au dérapage! Amélie avait eu le malheur de faire remarquer qu'il faisait chaud dans la pièce et Marc l'avait enserrée entre ses bras encore plus intimement et en ricanant avait lâché: « C'est toi qui est toute chaude ma puce ». Il avait alors posé sa main ample et large sur la cuisse nue d'Amélie. A ce contact, elle s'était cabrée, cuisses serrées. Mais Marc n'enlevait pas sa main et l'autre type qui bavait de plus en plus sur le haut de sa jupe avait rajouté d'une voix mielleuse: « Faut dire que c'est l'époque des grosses chaleurs... ». Elle était abasourdie de tant de vulgarité. Surtout que Marc avait réenchérit: « Et des très grosses envies. Un mec ne devrait pas suffire pour calmer un aussi gros besoin. Mais je suis sûr que tu ne demandes pas mieux, Raphaël, de me donner un coup de main ». « Pas qu'un coup de main!, s'était esclaffé l'autre grossièrement. Mais un sacré bon coup, ça oui!! ». Outrée, Amélie s'était arrachée de l'étreinte de Marc et levée d'un bond. Marc avec un regard rieur insupportable lui avait pris doucement la main: « Allez Amélie, on rigole! ». « C'est pas drôle du tout », avait rétorqué la jeune femme furieuse. Mais alors pourquoi n'était-elle pas partie en claquant la porte? Parce que Marc caressait tendrement sa main en la regardant avec ses magnifiques yeux? : « Allez ma puce tu ne vas pas tout gâcher? ! ». Bien sûr qu'elle ne voulait pas le perdre. Il était si beau. Mais elle devait aussi lui montrer qu'elle avait du caractère, qu'elle ne se laissait pas traiter ainsi. Alors, elle avait froidement tourné les talons et fièrement était venue s'enfermer dans la salle de bain. Elle lui avait montré qu'elle avait de la volonté et du caractère, qu'elle n'avait rien à voir avec les filles faciles qu'il devait mettre dans *** lit! Mais une fois seule dans la salle de bain, Amélie s'était sentie comme prise au piège. Elle s'était assise sur le rebord de la baignoire espérant de tout *** cœur que Marc se manifeste rapidement. Les secondes s'écoulaient. Le doute grandissait dans *** esprit. N'était-elle pas stupide de se comporter ainsi? Et si *** amant la laissait poireauter pendant des heures? Peut-être s'était-il même complètement désintéressé d'elle? N'entendait-elle pas des rires étouffés dans la pièce où étaient restés les deux hommes?

Marc, lui, s'amusait de la situation. Il connaissait ce genre de petite poule. Il savait qu'elle était à sa merci. Il s'était donné dix minutes pour bien la faire mariner dans *** jus. Il en avait profité pour, à voix basse, assurer à Raphaël qu'il pouvait déjà préparer les 100 euros. L'autre doutait. Mais Marc lui avait dit: « Fais-moi confiance dans 10 minutes tu fourres ta bite dans la chatte de cette jolie salope. Je vais aller la voir, la baratiner et quand elle sera prête, je te ferai signe. Je dirai di***s... Di***s : « écartes encore un peu les cuisses ma salope ». Ce sera le code pour toi. Tu pourras alors venir nous rejoindre pour tirer ton coup. Compris ? ». Raphaël n'était vraiment pas Einstein, mais ce genre de consigne, il comprenait parfaitement.

Marc s'était alors tranquillement levé et avait tapé à la porte de la salle de bain. Il l'avait facilement amadouée. « Amélie ouvres-moi. Il faut ne pas prendre au premier degré des blagues de mecs. Tu sais à quel point tu comptes pour moi. Allez Amélie, je m'excuse. S'il te plaît ouvre ». Elle n'avait pas mis plus de deux minutes à céder. Elle avait alors essayé d'être clair : elle ne supportait pas ce genre d'attitude. Il l'avait attirée dans ses bras tendrement et en la cajolant: « Tu es si belle, ma chérie. Si désirable ». Il était tellement tendre. Comment ne pas fondre ? Marc continuait: « Tu ne peux pas m'empêcher d'être fier que tu sois aussi désirable. Tu pourrais te faire baiser par tous les mecs que tu veux et c'est moi que tu as choisi ». Elle n'aimait pas quand il s'exprimait ainsi. Elle le lui dit sèchement: « Arrêtes Marc! ». Il devait comprendre qu'avec elle ça ne fonctionnerait pas du tout comme ça! Mais il avait poursuivi de manière encore plus explicite: « Tous les mecs ne rêvent que d'une chose: c'est de te baiser. Et je veux que tu en prenne pleinement conscience ». Elle avait beau afficher, avec ses grands yeux courroucés, ses sourcils froncés et ses grimaces offusquées, un profond désaccord d'entendre de tels propos, il continuait: « Tu es faites pour l'amour et tu le sais. Et si tu ne le sais pas, je vais te le prouver ». Il avait fait glisser le chemisier sur ses épaules graciles: « Tu as un corps de rêve, ma chérie. Que tu es belle! Comme j'ai envie de toi! Tu me rends fou ». Comment ne pas être flattée? Comment ne pas se laisser déshabiller, mettre à nue, puis entraîner sous la douche? Et maintenant, Marc était dans *** dos, l'enserrant tendrement. Au fond qu'importe l'autre type dans la chambre. Qu'importe *** mari et la culpabilité d'être infidèle. Elle est avec *** amant. Elle l'aime. Ils s'aiment! Elle veut en profiter. Elle écrase *** dos contre le large torse du mâle et se cambre au maximum. Amélie sent le membre contre ses fesses, constate avec satisfaction qu'il est dur pour elle. Il se plaque un peu plus massant à pleines mains les seins avec un gel moussant. Des ondes de plaisir irradient de ses mamelles, se répandent dans toute sa chair. Elle accentue la pression de *** derrière contre le sexe, elle ondule du bassin, roule de la croupe et frotte ainsi l'engin contre la partie la plus charnue de *** être. Il encastre *** braquemart entre les fesses et le fait glisser le long de la rainure. La raie de la jeune femme s'écarte. Elle sent bien qu'il insiste plus particulièrement contre *** anus et qu'il frotte et pousse *** gland contre *** petit anneau. Comment pourrait-elle recevoir une chose aussi grosse à cet endroit? C'est impensable! Elle sait que certaines femmes le font et paraît-il y prennent du plaisir. Mais, elle ne pourra jamais. Elle est trop étroite, il est trop gros. Il semble lire dans ses pensées, car il lui dit : "N'ai pas peur ma puce. Je ne vais pas te sodomiser. Pas aujourd'hui en tout cas. Mais je t'apprendrai à aimer ça. Dès la prochaine fois promis". Elle frémit en entendant ces mots. Elle sait ce qui l'attend à leur prochain rendez-vous. Mais pour l'instant, elle est rassurée: elle peut en toute confiance lui tendre ses fesses et les frotter contre *** engin, il n'essayera pas de la sodomiser. La hampe complètement bandée s'écrase de tout *** long contre *** derrière généreux, les bourses de l'homme frotte contre la chair rebondie. Il l'enlace, la main droite massant de plus en plus fermement les seins opulents de la jeune femme, jouant avec les tétons dressés et électrisés par le plaisir alors que la main gauche descend vers la fente, que l'index appuie sur le clitoris et entame un délicieux mouvement de rotation. C'est trop bonnnnnnn... Elle ferme un instant les yeux et en écartant les cuisses commence à gémir d'aise. Elle s'ouvre à Marc qui tout en titillant le clito avec le pouce, masse avec ses autres doigts les lèvres de la fente et à mesure que la corolle se dilate, il pousse *** indexe entre les nymphes. Le vagin avale le doigt et l'homme commence à aller et venir dans les parois de plus en plus détrempées. Il est déjà temps d'enfiler un deuxième doigt. Amélie se cambre en se pâmant. Les caresses de *** amant ***t trop délicieuses.
Marc a maintenant fait glisser sa hampe entre la fourche de la jeune femme et elle se retrouve à califourchon sur la barre de chair. Il extirpe *** doigt dégoulinant de cyprine et appuie sur les reins d'Amélie.

« Penches toi en avant ma salope ».
Elle accepte l'insulte. Ce n'est plus une insulte, mais l'expression du désir de *** homme. Elle obéit en posant ses mains à plat contre le mur de la douche. Il agrippe la taille de guêpe et frotte avec de ample et lent mouvement copulatoire *** engin contre le vagin imbibé de mouille. Il la sent s'ouvrir. Il lui donne une petite tape sur la croupe pour qu'elle se penche un peu plus en avant et qu'il puisse un peu plus profité du spectacle de *** derrière épanoui. Il pose ses mains larges sur chaque globe de chair et masse la peau si douce, tiède et élastique, il rapproche progressivement les pouce de chaque côté de la rainure des fesses et tour à tour, écarte, étire, puis comprime délicatement le sillon et il accentue ses va et vient veillant bien à ce que *** gland vienne à chaque fois pousser contre le capuchon du clitoris. Amélie émet des gémissements de plus en plus aiguës, caractéristiques de la pâmoi***s féminine. Elle va atteindre le point de non retour. Elle a tellement envie maintenant de sentir le membre pénétrer en elle. *** amant en est conscient puisqu'il lui ordonne : « Ecartes encore un peu plus les cuisses ma salope ». Elle obtempère en frémissant d'impatience. Mais *** instinct de femme lui dicte de ne pas totalement s'abandonner. Un bruit dans la salle de bain ? Elle ouvre les yeux. Stupéfaction. Raphaël est là devant eux, aussi nu qu'eux. Il regarde le couple tenant *** engin dans la main. Elle pousse un cri! Veut se dégager de l'étreinte de *** amant. Elle se redresse en serrant les jambes. Mais l'engin de *** amant reste empri***né entre ses cuisses serrées. Marc tranquillement réaffirme sa prise la plaque sans violence mais encore plus fermement contre lui. Elle sent la hampe plaquée contre les lèvres de *** vagin. Marc ainsi enserré peut à peine remuer sa queue. A peine, imperceptiblement. C'est une ******* pour Amélie:
« Marccc Arrêteeessss ». Elle voudrait que sa voix soit autoritaire et non aussi suppliante.
Mais les mains amples et puissantes de *** amant tiennent ses hanches et lui impulsent un insoutenable mouvement de va et vient. La voix de Marc à ses oreilles est si douce si pénétrante.
« Chutee ma chérie. Chuteeee. Laisses toi faire. Fais moi confiance ».
Elle doit se dérober!! Elle ne peut admettre d'être exposée ainsi devant cet inconnu. Elle essaie de se cabrer encore.
« Marc... nonnnnnnnnn... lâche moiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii !!!! » Elle doit mordre ses lèvres pour ne pas gémir. « Paiiiiii... passss... pas devant luiiiiii »
Au plus elle remue *** bassin pour se dégager au plus lui accompagne les mouvements désordonnés pour accentuer les frottements de la queue contre la fente.
« Chutteee ma toute douce. Il veut juste te regarder. Tu es si magnifique ».
Raphaël s'est encore approché. Elle entend sa respiration saccadée.
« Regarde comme il te trouve belle! ».
Elle sent cette masse noire, virile, toujours plus proche. Elle est cernée de toute part, sous l'emprise d'un homme, sous le regard d'un autre.
« Regarde dans ses yeux comme tu es désirable »
Malgré elle, Amélie croise le regard de Raphaël. Des yeux brûlant de concupiscence. Comment ignorer qu'elle est la cause du feu qui est en train d'embraser l'esprit de ce mâle en rut... De ces deux mâles en rut!
« Marc nonnnnnnnnnnnn ». Mais elle lâche prise. Malgré elle, ses cuisses s'écartent.
Et Marc gagne du terrain, sa hampe frotte, frotte, frotte, contre la vulve détrempée. Et il continue sa litanie:
« Il veut juste te regarder, juste t'admirer jouir. Tellement que tu es belle. Tu es si magnifique mon amour. Tu es l'amour »
Il appuie sur les reins de la jeune femme pour qu'elle se penche à nouveau. Elle doit résister: « Nonnn Marc, je ne veux paaaaaas !!! ». Elle se met à parler à toute vitesse en geignant : « Jeee... Je ne ferai... jamais ça c'est impossible. Jaamaisss. C'est... çaaaaa... c'estt no...NNN... C'ESTTTT... ». Marc a posé sa main sur la vulve de la jeune femme et avec *** index, il tourne autour du bouton de jouissance. La voix d'Amélie se fait de plus en plus saccadée : « C'est... tee... tree... troppppp... dégoutANTTTT... Et puis... il... jeEEEe... MaAAAaaarc... il... ILLllleee... ». Sa voix se fait de plus en plus haletante, gémissante : « Jjee... jehhejjj... MaRRRrc... c'esttt dégOOutteee...anteeiiiiHHHh... ». Sa voix se fait de plus en plus suppliante et aigüe : « JeEEEEee... jeEEEeee... c'eSSSeeettt... C 'EST TROPPPPP, OOHHHooooo... » Il la branle de plus en plus énergiquement et avec sa queue continue inlassablement le mouvement de va et vient contre la fente devenue béante. Elle plie : « Marciiiiiiiiuuuuoooo... AAAAArrrrr... Arrrrrêtttteeeeeee...». Ca y est, elle s'est penchée en avant. Alors, tout en en faisant un signe complice à Raphaël, Marc pousse sa bite dans le con. « Lààà ma puce, tout doux. Tout doux! Comme çaaa. Lààà, ouiii, tu es bonne ma puce ». Ça glisse si facilement en elle! Les va et vient toujours plus précis, toujours plus profond, massent l'endroit de la grotte le plus sensible à la jouissance. Elle ne peut résister. Il fait ça si bien. C'est trop bon. Du fond de sa gorge monte des râles de femelle obscène, elle s'abandonne au plaisir qui l'envahit.
— Làà ma belle, c'est bien ! Tu es magnifique ma puce. Prends la queue de Raphaël dans ta jolie petite quenotte. Allez! Branle-le, sinon il va devenir fou à te regarder jouir sans pouvoir en profiter.
Cette fois, elle doit refuser! Ça va trop loin! Elle tourne *** visage d'ange vers *** amant, la finesse et la pureté de ses traits comme tout dernier argument pour ne pas se prêter à cet acte ignominieux. Mais, derrière la douceur de *** expression presque enfantine transparaît de manière aveuglante la vérité de la femme en chaleur. Elle comprend sur le champ que sa rébellion est stupide. Elle est vaincue. D'autant plus que *** amant, mécontent de sa réaction, vient de cesser les merveilleuses ondulations dans *** vagin. Il fait même mine de se retirer. Elle en a trop besoin. Elle en veut tellement encore. Alors Amélie se saisit prestement de l'épais et long sexe du noir et l'agite de plus en plus vigoureusement à mesure que *** amant, qui l'encourage de la voix, accentue le rythme de ces coups de reins. Amélie n'est bientôt plus qu'un ****** réclamant la saillie, pour offrir un peu plus sa vulve à la copulation, elle se plie un peu plus en avant, une main posée contre le mur de la douche, l'autre serrant plus fortement le sexe du noir. La poigne de la jeune femme est comme un étau sur le membre de Raphaël et ce dernier peut imaginer ce que cette chienne ressent dans *** ventre, à quel point elle doit être prise et remplie par la bite. Et s'il n'a pas assez d'imagination, il lui suffit de regarder le braquemard impressionnant s'extirper presque entièrement pour mieux pousser et s'engloutir jusqu'à la garde dans les parois étroites du vagin. Il entend les cognements du pubis de *** pote contre la croupe de la jeune femme à chaque fois que l'engin vient buter au fond d'elle. Il entend également les testicules claquer contre la fente et le bruit plus lancinant et flaque des frottements du gourdin dans le fourreau de chair détrempée qui bien que travaillée vigoureusement reste étonnement enserrée. Qu'est ce qu'elle reçoit ! La salope couine littéralement maintenant signe que l'orgasme monte en elle. D'ailleurs, *** ami l'informe que *** tour approche. Il était temps, il n'en peut plus d'autant plus que la petite pute a lâché sa queue pour poser ses deux mains contre le mur. Elle se plie un peu plus en creusant ses reins. Qu'est ce qu'elle tend bien *** cul! Quelle chienne! Elle essaie de garder les bras tendus, mais Marc qui l'agrippe par les hanches lui met de sacrés coups de boutoir et elle a du mal à garder la position et à ne pas s'écraser contre le mur. Qu'est qu'il lui met! Mais ça serait dommage qu'elle s'affale trop contre le mur, Raphaël ne verrait plus ses grosses mamelles gigoter et se balancer en cadence à chaque coup de pine. Putain, il a trop envie de la tringler, la chienne. Il ne va pas pouvoir tenir longtemps. « Marc, j'en peux plus!! S'il te plait, laisse la moi un peu... ».
Amélie n'est plus qu'une poupée submergée par la jouissance, elle n'a plus de volonté propre. Plus d'amour propre. Elle ne peut plus penser. Elle est prise par une ***** contre laquelle elle est incapable de lutter; la puissance de *** amant qui sans cesser de la remplir dicte sa volonté et l'amène à se redresser. Il peut faire tout ce qu'il veut du moment qu'il ne cesse pas de la baiser. Elle pousse un petit cri quand toujours empalée sur l'engin de *** homme elle se sent soulever du sol. Ses pieds ne touchent plus terre. *** amant plaqué dans *** dos l'a hissée en l'air. Il a passé ses bras sous *** derrière et la soutien ainsi avec les mains posées sous chaque cuisse. Le membre toujours fiché dans le vagin de la jeune femme, il la tourne vers Raphaël. « Allez mon gars, tu vas pouvoir te régaler ». Elle n'ose imaginer le spectacle on ne peut plus obscène que le noir a devant les yeux. Marc la maintient les cuisses complètement écartées, la vulve remplie, les lèvres de la fente largement ouvertes par le membre toujours enfilé de presque dix centimètres dans sa matrice. Raphaël se jette sur la jeune femme comme une bête au moment même ou Marc d'un coup de rein extirpe sa queue et la bascule un peu plus en arrière pour que le noir, qui l'agrippe sauvagement, puisse s'enfiler dans le vagin jusqu'à la garde. Raphaël l'écrase de toute sa masse contre Marc. Il rue en elle, des ruades saccadées, désordonnées qui fouillent dans ses parois, la remue jusque dans ses entrailles. Elle à l'impression de glisser, elle agite ses bras en l'air, *** amant la retient, Raphaël aussi réaffirme sa prise sans cesser de la fourrer de tout *** saoul, elle s'accroche à l'épaule du noir, plante ses ongles de toutes ses *****s dans la peau, l'autre main posée à plat contre le mur de la douche, elle est de nouveau écrasée, ballottée, secouée, bourrée, comme empalée, elle râle, elle crie, elle crie, elle crie, elle est submergée par un spasme orgasmique, elle crie encore plus fort, comprime *** périnée, enserre la queue dans *** fourreau de chair et se fait encore vigoureusement limer le con pendant 2 minutes 17 secondes, le temps que le noir trop excité pour se retenir plus longtemps éjacule au fond de sa matrice et qu'elle même connaisse un second orgasme d'une profondeur absolument inouïe.

Le sperme de Raphaël gicle dans le vagin d'Amélie. A chaque spasme éjaculatoire, il tente de pousser sa bite un peu plus loin au fond du sexe de la jeune femme, jusqu'à ce qu'il se soit entièrement vidé les couilles. Amélie reçoit les derniers assauts bestiaux du mâle tout en reprenant ses esprits. Encore un grognement, un dernier spasme, une ultime ruade et il s'écrase de tout *** poids contre elle, accentuant la sensation d'être prise en étau entre les deux hommes. Côté face, Raphaël, en nage, la presse de toute sa masse, leurs troncs *** ventousés par la transpiration, la poitrine opulente de la jeune femme est complètement comprimée contre le buste du noir qui, de toute évidence, profite au maximum du contact de ces généreuses mamelles à la chair si souple et si moelleuse. Mais qu'attend-il pour se décoller ? Pour extirper *** engin du vagin dans lequel il vient de se soulager et la laisser un peu respirer ? Côté pile le dos d'Amélie est englué par la sueur contre le torse de Marc, elle est toujours dans cette position absolument dégradante : assises sur les avants bras de *** amant ; les mains épaisses de l'homme agrippent ses cuisses tout en les maintenant écartées. Elle se rend compte à quel point il doit être excité. La respiration du mâle est haletante et il remue *** bassin dans un mouvement copulatoire sans équivoque. Quant à sa grosse queue, elle ne cesse de venir frotter contre l'intérieur des cuisses et de la fourche de la jeune femme. Amélie prend conscience que Marc attend avec une impatience de plus en plus irrépressible que Raphaël extirpe *** engin pour prendre la place. Et en effet à peine le noir libère-t-il l'accès dans le vagin de la jeune salope que Marc repose sans ménagement Amélie par terre, appuie avec empressement sur les reins de la poupée, l'amène à se pencher à nouveau en avant, agrippe d'une main vigoureuse la taille fine tout en guidant de l'autre sa bite dans le con offert et sans vraiment lui laisser le temps de souffler, il s'enfile jusqu'aux couilles dans les parois déjà dilatés par la saillie et immédiatement, il laboure le terreau de cette matrice devenue infiniment meuble tellement elle dégorge de sperme et de mouille. Il s'adresse alors à Raphaël qui affalé contre le mur de la douche récupère : « Immortalise la scène ! ». Mais pas une seule seconde, il envisage de demander l'avis d'Amélie. Cette dernière essaie bien d'exprimer *** point de vue sur la situation. Mais le gourdin cogne et vibre tellement puissamment dans *** ventre que, alors qu'elle voudrait prononcer des phrases cohérentes, elle n'arrive qu'à émettre des ***s obscènement saccadés : « MAA rrraa AAAAcccccc... Jjeeejee... JJeeeEEe... Maa... Mma... iiiaaa... aaaisss... OOOhhhreeeeRREEee... MaaAAA rrrrRRRCCcccc... ». Marc enserre de ses deux mains la taille de la femelle et les yeux rivés sur ce magnifique cul contre lequel *** pelvis vient buter avec la régularité d'un métronome, il bourre le con toujours plus fort. La voix de la femelle gagne aussi en intensité dans les couinements :« MMMMMAAAAAAAarrrcc OOOHH HHYYYyooôîïïïiii mmMMaaAArrcccAAAArrigiiiiiiiii... MMaarAAArrïÏÏÏÏAAAAr aaaAARAArrrCCCccccc ».

Pendant ce temps, Raphaël s'est saisi de l'appareil photo. Il enclenche le mode vidéo et filme. Est-ce les feulements de la merveilleuse chiennasse qui motive encore plus Marc ou le fait de se savoir filmé, ou tout simplement le fait qu'il va jouir, en tout cas, il décuple encore ses coups de reins. Raphaël fait d'abord un plan large pour que l'on voit bien à quel point le corps de la tendre pouffiasse se fait complètement remuer par le ramonage de chatte. Il veille à ce que le *** soit à fond et en profite pour faire un focus d'abord sur les lourdes mamelles qui gigotent au rythme incessant des coups de boutoirs, puis sur la douce petite gueule d'ange. Les cheveux fins et d'une blonde pureté ***t collés au front par l'échauffement et la chaleur de l'outrage sexuel ; les grands yeux de biche, reflet de la candeur et de la grâce féminine, ***t désormais écarquillés d'étonnement d'être sous l'emprise d'une telle puissance de saillie ; les joues à l'incomparable douceur vermillon ont été empourprées par l'incendie qui se propage dans absolument toute la chair de cette femelle en rut ; quant à sa délicieuse petite bouche en cœur, elle est déformées par les grimaces de l'orgasme et les lèvres pulpeuses ont perdue toute trace d'innocence puisqu'elles laissent échapper des cris de plus en plus stridents, des cris incontrôlables qui jaillissent du fond de la gorge, du fond de l'être, du fond de l'âme, du fond du con de cette pute insatiable. Car si elle est dans un tel état, c'est uniquement parce qu'elle se fait bourrer par une grosse bite. Ce qui mérite bien un gros plan. Raphaël s'approche encore et cherche le meilleur angle pour capter au plus prêt l'image du travail du braquemart dans le sexe parfaitement glabre de la femelle. Marc se prête au jeu. Il extirpe sa hampe presque entièrement de la matrice puis réenfile jusqu'à la garde ses 20 centimètres dans le ventre de la salope. Il appuie sur les reins pour qu'elle cambre encore sa croupe idéalement rebondie. Et il la bourre. La bourre. La bourre. Raphaël s'accroupit. Ainsi on voit parfaitement la hampe forer entre les lèvres du vagin. La bite se fait avaler par la chatte gloutonne, jusqu'aux couilles, encore et encore et encore. Le clitoris est complètement sorti de *** repli de peau. La connasse est tellement ouverte et détrempée que des éclaboussures de cyprine gicle. Raphaël renifle à plein nez l'odeur de la moule farcie au stupre... Tiens, Marc émet un râle bestial ! Pas de doute, il va venir. Il carre sa bite complètement au fond de l'antre et ses belles couilles pleines écrasées contre les lèvres de la chatte, il envoie tout *** sperme dans le délicieux sac à foutre. Raphaël continue de filmer en gros plan le vagin qui, pour la deuxième fois en quelques minutes, se fait remplir de jute. La chienne contracte ses muscles périnéaux comme pour mieux aspirer le jus. La pine gluante s'extirpe à moitié, puis replonge dans un bruit visqueux et l'insatiable muqueuse vaginale avale à nouveau goulûment le gourdin. Marc pousse au maximum, au fond de la cavité utérine et les couilles pressées contre les lèvres béantes, il finit de se vider en grognant. Alors lentement, il extrait *** engin du ventre de la chiennasse. Vingt centimètres de hampe poisseuse sortent du con ; ce qui s'appelle s'être fait bien remplir ! Le gland apparaît enfin et dans un appel d'air dégoûtant, les nymphes libèrent le gros vit. Un épais filet glaireux de sperme dégorge de l'orifice et coule sur la fourche de la femelle. La moule est bien ouverte, on voit presque l'intérieur de la grotte... Mais déjà les muscles du périnée se relâchent, les parois du gant de chair se rétractent et les nymphes se referment lentement. Mais, après un tel traitement, les lèvres extérieures vont rester un bon moment dilatées avant d'enclore à nouveau le précieux bijou de la salope. La fente bée de deux centimètres au moins et le sperme continue de dégurgiter des babines épaisses et gorgées de sang. Raphaël est fasciné. Il se verrait bien la remplir encore un bon coup. Ô oui, il est sûr qu'elle en veut encore. La preuve, il bande de nouveau comme un taureau. Il va remettre un coup de queue à cette connasse insatiable. Il se relève.

Amélie, elle, reprend ses esprits, toujours la face tournée contre le mur de la douche. Bien sûr elle s'est redressée. Tout *** être a été remué. Le bouleversement intime a été si puissant qu'elle ne peut l'assumer. La honte l'envahit de s'être laissée ainsi submerger par des pulsions bestiales. Elle frémit de dégoût en repensant à l'avilissement qu'elle vient d'accepter, à sa jouissance *******, à sa dépravation. Elle voudrait oublier la trace que les membres des deux hommes ont imprégné dans *** sexe, effacer la souillure qu'ils ont laissé en elle. Comment a-t-elle pu accepter ? Elle n'a qu'un seul désir maintenant : dissimuler sa nudité, renouer avec sa pudeur de jeune femme respectable, se laver, s'en aller. Marc l'a enfin lâché. Mais l'autre pervers ? Elle sent le regard immonde de ce vicieux dans *** dos. Elle contracte les fesses, serre les cuisses et, en faisant bien attention de ne pas croiser les yeux de Raphaël, elle se retourne pour regarder Marc. Il doit la laisser partir maintenant. Le visage désarmé de la jeune femme ne peut qu'attendrir celui qui prétend être *** amant. Le plus fémininement possible, elle incline légèrement la tête vers lui. Elle sait que ses traits si fins et si harmonieux inspirent la tendresse. Comment pourrait-il résister à ses grands yeux mordorés de biche sans défense, à ses longs cils qui papillonnent candidement ? A sa chevelure blonde soyeuse et plus précieuse qu'une cascade d'or qui, accompagnée d'un léger mouvement du cou gracieux, se répand sur ses épaules graciles ? Ses armes de femme. Elle a toujours su en jouer pour obtenir ce qu'elle voulait des hommes. Mais jusqu'à présent c'était sans jamais rien donner en retour. Cette fois, elle a sacrément payé de sa per***ne. Le désordre laissé par l'acte copulatoire se lit dans ses yeux trop brillants, sur ses joues quelque peu cramoisies. Et sa chair a tellement été échauffée que la sueur colle ses cheveux à *** front et à ses tempes. Marc lui sourit pour la mettre en confiance. Qu'elle enjôleuse ! L'image de l'idéal féminin. L'expression angélique, tout en humilité, sans oublier la petite moue ingénue de la bouche... On pourrait presque la prendre pour une douce pucelle, pour l'immaculée conception. En faisant abstraction cependant du fait, qu'elle était totalement nue et que sa plastique aurait fait triquer un eunuque. Non, décidément se dit Marc, le plus crédible chez, Amélie, ne résidait pas dans ses mimiques artificieuses, mais du côté de *** dos émouvant, de sa chute de reins vertigineuse et de *** délicieux petit cul bombé. Elle pouvait donner à *** visage l'image de l'innocence, mais elle ne pouvait pas dissimuler *** adorable con. Quand elle était ainsi de dos, il ressemblait à un abricot exquis, tout lisse, avec des lèvres à la fois joufflues à souhait et d'une fermeté terriblement appétissante. Un abricot fendu à point, dégorgeant de sève et poisseux de jus, idéalement mûr pour se faire à nouveau cueillir par une grosse bite. D'ailleurs Raphaël avait l'air bien décidé à enfourner à nouveau *** gourdin. Il soufflait comme un porc et collait de plus en plus explicitement la petite salope. Comme un chien en rut, il frottait maintenant *** engin à la cuisse droite. En fait, à chaque seconde, malgré les vaines tentatives d'Amélie pour se dégager, la queue gagnait un peu plus de terrain vers sa cible. Le cul d'Amélie faisait office d'aimant à pine. Elle était acculée contre le mur et n'allait pas tardée à être enculée. Et effectivement maintenant, le noir commençait à ouvertement fourbir sa pine contre l'arrière train de la femelle. A ce contact ignoble, elle raidissait tout *** corps et le visage emprunt de dégoût, elle regardait Marc en le suppliant. Ce dernier repris les choses en main. Il agrippa l'épaule de Raphaël et le tira en arrière. « Hey tu fais quoi mon ami ? ». Le noir grogna et chercha à se dégager pour de nouveau s'encoller à la croupe de la jeune femme : « J'ai trop envie de lui remettre un coup à cette petite salope...

— Oui, mon ami, mais ce n'est pas gratuit. Si tu veux de nouveau la troncher, faut repasser à la caisse.
— Déconnes pas Marc, je t'ai déjà filé 150 euros ! J'ai déjà payé laisses- moi la piner !
— Tu as tiré ton coup.
— Mais oui, merde j'ai payé pour la piner !
— Et bien justement tu l'as fait non ?
Amélie est abasourdie. Elle n'en croit pas ses oreilles ! Marc l'a prostituée !!! Quel immonde per***nage ! Mais au moins, il s'est interposé devant Raphaël. D'un geste protecteur, il a passé *** bras autour de la taille de la jeune femme. Elle ne peut pas le repousser maintenant, car il l'a protège. En effet, le noir insiste :
— Je ne vais pas payer 150 euros à chaque fois que je veux l'enfiler.
— J'ai bien peur que si.
— Mais je n'ai pas les moyens.
— Ce n'est pas mon problème
— Déconnes pas merde...
Raphaël essaie de contourner Marc et de poser ses sales pattes sur la jeune femme. Pour éviter tout contact avec cet abject mâle en rut, elle est obligée de se blottir contre Marc. Elle le déteste après ce qu'il a osé lui faire, mais elle n'a pas le choix. Il l'a défend contre ce porc qui veut la violer. Et effectivement, Marc semble bien décidé à prendre le parti d'Amélie :
— Je ne pense pas qu'Amélie soit d'accord Raphaël
— Mais merde depuis quand on lui demande *** avis.
— Il n'a jamais été question de la violer, mon ami.
Que faire d'autre que de se blottir un peu plus contre cet homme qui la protège, même si c'est le pire des salops. Au moins grâce à lui cette histoire va enfin prendre fin. Et l'autre qui insiste toujours :
— Merde, Marc je te jure que je n'ai pas les moyens de mettre à nouveau 150 euros.
— Et bien tant pis. Peut-être une autre fois.
— Je n'ai que 50 euros ! Allez 50 euros.
Amélie se réfugie de plus belle contre Marc pour qu'il sente à quel point elle compte sur lui, à quel point elle a besoin de lui, à quel point elle a confiance en lui.

— C'est pas la période des soldes mon ami désolé. Si tu veux sa chatte c'est 150 euros. Point barre.
Mon dieu ! Comment peut-il parler d'elle en ces termes ? Comment peut-il la traiter ainsi ? Mais l'essentiel pour l'instant c'est qu'il ne cède pas.
— Putain merde, elle m'excite trop la salope ! Et pour 50 euros, alors ? J'ai quoi ? Elle me suce la bite ?
— Heu... 50 euros pour une pipe ?
Nonnnn !!!! Il ne peut pas faire ça !!!
— Oui, je te donne encore 50 euros si elle me suce !
C'est impossible !!! Il va dire non... Il ne peut pas hésiter !!! Mais qu'est ce qu'il attend pour refuser catégoriquement ????
— Humm... d'accord. Mais c'est bien parce que c'est toi.
Marc tient toujours Amélie par la taille. Il pose sa deuxième main avec douceur sur la tête de la jeune femme et il lui flatte le crane tendrement. Comment ose-t-il ? Comment peut-il s'imaginer !!! Elle doit lui faire comprendre que c'est absolument impossible
— Marcccccc nonnnnnn. Jamais ! Jamais je ne ferai ça !!! Jamais tu m'entends ! Jamais !
— Chut ma chérie. Ce n'est pas bien méchant de sucer sa queue quand même. Ne fais pas tant d'histoire pour si peu.
Elle se ferme ! Le visage fermé, les cuisses serrées, les fesses comprimées. Oui, elle se ferme !!!! De plus la manière dont Marc lui caresse la tête est tellement ignoble ! Comme on flatterait un ****** de compagnie !
— Jamais je ferai ça !
Marc élève la voix :
— Ecoutes ma puce. Il faut que tu sois un peu plus obéissante, sinon ça ne va pas aller ! Tu comprends ? Arrêtes de jouer les vierges effarouchées. Ça prend peut-être avec ton mari mais pas avec moi. Il ne connaît pas ta vraie nature et je pense qu'il est préférable de le laisser dans l'ignorance.
Marc regarde alors le téléphone portable que Raphaël tient toujours en main. Le cœur d'Amélie fait un bond dans sa poitrine. Mon dieu, il serait capable de montrer ce film abject à Jean-Paul ? Non ! Quelle horreur... Raphaël se rapproche. Cette odeur aigre ! Cette présence adipeuse. Il tient *** membre dans la main, l'agite ignominieusement. Il l'a touche presque. Elle se crispe. Marc poursuit sur un ton plus mielleux en caressant délicatement la joue de la jeune femme en approchant ses doigts des lèvres pulpeuses.
— Tu vas être bien sage et bien obéissante. Il faut que tu me fasses confiance. C'est comme ça. Il n'y a pas d'autre solution de toute façon. C'est pour ton bien crois moi ! D'accord ?
Elle se bute. Comme une enfant capricieuse et récalcitrante, elle fait non avec la tête. Mais Marc poursuit sa litanie :
— Tu vas juste sucer sa queue ! Ce n'est quand même pas terrible. Ce n'est quand même pas la première fois que tu suces une bite ma chérie ! Allons Amélie ne fais pas ta bêtasse !
La jeune femme a compris que Marc ne cédera pas. Elle est fatiguée. Elle veut que ça finisse. Elle baisse les yeux sur l'engin de Raphaël. Cette longue tige noire, adipeuse. Contrairement à celle de Marc qui possède un gland épais et bien dessiné en forme de champignon, la hampe de Raphaël semble d'un seul tenant et ne comporte pratiquement aucun relief entre la tige et le gland. Alors que l'engin de Marc est légèrement courbé vers le haut, celui du noir est parfaitement horizontal. Il est aussi plus court de 4 à 5 centimètres et de toute évidence moins large. Elle ne peut réprimer une grimace de dégout. Marc a bien saisit ce mouvement de répulsion. Il a alors un doute.
— Tu n'as jamais sucée de queue ?
Elle se cabre. Mais comment peut-il lui parler comme ça ? Elle est d'autant plus ulcérée qu'elle sent bien qu'elle rougit et qu'ainsi elle trahit sa honte et sa gêne.
Marc prend avec autorité le menton d'Amélie entre ses doigts puissants, il oblige la jeune femme à lever la tête vers lui et à le regarder. Et avec autorité :
— Réponds Amélie ! Tu n'as jamais sucée de bite ? C'est ça ?
Les larmes montent aux yeux de la jeune femme. Elle n'a jamais été humiliée ainsi.
Marc, tout en tenant toujours le menton dans sa main droite, applique une petite gifle de la main gauche, sur la joue déjà bien rosie par la confusion. Il ne s'agit pas de lui faire mal mais de sortir Amélie de sa torpeur et de marquer définitivement sa soumission. La jeune femme sursaute. Les larmes perlent à ses paupières. La voix de Marc devient tranchante :
— Réponds Amélie !
Dans un murmure presque inaudible :
— C'est dégoutant de faire ça.
— Donc tu ne l'a jamais fais ?
Elle fait non avec la tête.
— Même ton mari ne t'a jamais donnée à sucer sa queue ?
Elle baisse la tête et fait encore non.
— Tu te rends compte, Raphaël, la pauvre puce n'a encore jamais reçu une bite en bouche.
— On va réparer ça ! Passe la moi, je vais lui apprendre.
Elle se cabre et se blottit dans les bras de Marc. Elle est tellement sans défense. Elle a besoin de réconfort. Elle tremble même un peu. Il l'accueil entre ses bras puissants, rassurant. Il l'enlace tendrement, la berce doucement.
— N'ai pas peur ma puce. Ça va bien se passer. Je suis là. N'ai pas peur.
Il caresse sa joue le plus tendrement possible. Elle est vraiment bandante la petite salope.
— Je vais te montrer, d'accord ? Ouvres la bouche mon ange ?
Elle ne répond pas. Mais de toute façon, ce n'était pas une question. Il approche avec assurance *** indexe et *** majeur de la charmante petite bouche. Il s'apprête à enfiler les deux doigts entre les lèvres délicatement charnues. Il est évident que la magnifique petite femelle va céder. Il n'y a qu'à la guider...
— Allez ! Ouvres la bouche ! Ouvres, ma puce ! Là, voilà ! Comme ça. Voilà ! Suces mes doigts, ma belle. Tout doucement. Voilà, comme ça. C'est bien ! Très bien. Tu vois, ce n'est pas bien terrible. Suces ma belle. Là. Oui... Que tu es douce ! Que tu fais ça bien. Et maintenant, fais tourner ta langue autour du bout de mes doigts, un mouvement de rotation... Allez Amélie ! Allez !
Non ! Elle ne fera pas ça ! Elle ne veut pas faire ça. C'est tellement humiliant.
Marc lève la main comme pour la gifler à nouveau et la regarde d'un œil noir :
— Amélie obéit ! Dépêches-toi maintenant ! Allez ! Tourne ta langue !
Que faire d'autre sinon obtempérer ? Sinon caresser le bout des doigts avec la langue, enrouler sa langue autour des doigts. Qu'on en finisse ! Ô, si seulement il n'y avait pas cet autre type ! *** regard pervers ! Le plaisir non dissimulé qu'il prend à la voir se rabaisser ainsi. Elle l'entend grogner : « Ô la salope ! Comme elles est bonne ». Il doit être en train d'agiter *** engin dans sa main ! De se masturber en la regardant ! Et Marc qui, contre elle, ne cache pas non plus *** érection. Ces hommes ***t de nouveau en rut ! Ça ne cessera donc jamais.
Marc appuie sur les épaules de la jeune femme. Il accompagne *** geste par la parole : « Mets toi à genoux maintenant, ma puce ». Se mettre à genoux ! Mon dieu, non ! Mais si, elle va s'agenouiller. Ses genoux plient. Comment lutter contre la volonté inflexible de Marc ? Il est plus fort qu'elle.

Marc appuie sur les épaules de la jeune femme. Il accompagne *** geste par la parole : « Mets toi à genoux maintenant, ma puce ». Se mettre à genou ! Mon dieu, non ! Mais si, elle va s'agenouiller. C'est écrit. Ses jambes plient. Comment lutter contre la volonté inflexible de Marc ? Il est plus fort qu'elle. Voici que ses genoux touchent le bac de douche froid et *** visage se retrouve à hauteur des deux membres dressés. Elle est aux pieds des deux hommes. Rabaissée à en être terriblement excitante, à en être profondément troublée. Elle ne s'appartient plus. Raphaël grogne d'impatience. Il tient *** engin adipeux dans sa main et sans cesser de le branler, il le rapproche toujours plus de la bouche de la jeune femme. L'odeur aigre et rance qui s'en dégage rend ce sexe d'autant moins appétissant. Dans une grimace de dégoût, elle détourne la tête. Elle sait qu'elle ne fait que retarder l'échéance. De toute façon, elle est cernée et en esquivant la queue de Raphaël, sa bouche se retrouve juste en face de celle de Marc. Alors ce dernier lui caresse tendrement le visage et s'adressant à Raphaël : « Elle veut d'abord commencer par la mienne. On va lui apprendre ». Le gland pousse contre ses lèvres, la deuxième main de Marc se pose sur sa joue, les doigts larges encadrent *** visage, le soulève légèrement. Alors, elle lève les yeux, elle a envie de pleurer. Elle a tellement honte. Mais le regard de Marc, n'est pas agressif, ni méprisant, au contraire, *** sourire ne peut être plus encourageant. Elle n'a qu'à laisser faire... Entrouvrir les lèvres... Accueillir la turgescence dans sa bouche. Et se laisser guider par la voix de l'homme : « Laaaa ma puce. C'est bien. Ouiii. Épouses bien la queue avec tes lèvres. Comme çaaaa. Doucement sur le gland, voila, c'est la partie la plus sensible. Doucement et aevc la langue comme je t'ai appris. Aspire maintenant plus fort à mesure que tu enfiles la tige. Fais un mouvement de va-et-vient avec ta jolie bouche... Tu vois, ouiii. Alterne la pression ma puce, doucement sur le gland et plus fort à mesure que tu entres plus profondément la queue en bouche. Détends toi, je ne vais pas te la mettre trop profond. Làà Juste comme ça. Ouii. C'est toi qui contrôles ma toute belle, c'est toi qui donnes le plaisir. Voila... Humm, c'est bon Amélie. Ta bouche est bonne. ÔOhh, tu sens comme ma queue est dure ? Ouiii, tu es bonne, tu sais !!! ». Quelle étrange impression. Ce membre qui lui remplit la bouche. Cette sensation *******, bestiale même, d'utiliser ainsi *** orifice buccal comme un vagin, d'avoir une conscience, une connaissance, aussi intense, aussi intime, du plaisir qu'elle délivre au mâle. Si seulement ce n'était pas aussi obscène de faire ça... Si seulement l'autre porc n'avait pas les yeux fixés sur la scène. Si seulement elle ne s'exhibait pas ainsi... Si seulement elle n'allait pas devoir ensuite faire pareil avec ce porc. Elle l'entendait souffler, grogner, marmonner des insanités... Et ce sexe qui coulisse dans sa bouche avec tellement d'aisance, pourtant il est si gros, si puissant... Raphaël qui manifeste de plus en plus *** impatience. Marc qui extirpe doucement *** engin. Un peu de salive s'échappe en même temps des lèvres d'Amélie. N'est ce dégradant ? Sale ? Ne doit-elle pas essuyer sa bouche. Elle avance sa main. Marc devance le geste de la jeune femme, en lui caressant encore plus tendrement le visage. Sa voix est si encourageante, apaisante : « Chutte ma puce, tu es si belle. Tu es merveilleuse, tu sais ». Alors elle laisse retomber ses bras le long du corps. Elle déglutie la salive qui s'est accumulée dans sa bouche. Et... « Ouvres salope ! ». Elle sursaute ! La voix de Raphaël et surtout sa masse qui a envahi tout l'espace. Ses mains rugueuses se saisissent de *** visage. Sa queue ***** les lèvres de la jeune femme. L'ordre se fait de plus en plus impérieux : « Allez ouvres salope ! Mais ouvres putain ! ». Alors elle ouvre la bouche. Elle regarde inquiète Marc pour qu'il l'aide, la soutienne, la protège. D'un mouvement de tête, il l'encourage. L'autre prend possession sans ménagement de *** palais. Il éructe : « Chienne, ohh la chiennneee ». Très vite, il tente d'enfoncer profondément sa bite. Elle a un haut le cœoeur ! Elle a peur de s'étouffer. Marc intervient subtilement. S'adressant à Raphaël : « Elle a quand même de sacrés beaux nichons la salope. Regardes comme elle a les tétons qui pointent ». Et joignant le geste à la parole, Marc pose sa main sur le sein droit de la jeune femme et se met à le masser à pleine poigne. Le leurre fonctionne et Raphaël relâche la pression sur la tête d'Amélie et se saisit de l'autre sein. Marc saisit alors la main d'Amélie pour qu'elle la pose sur l'engin de Raphaël. Elle ne comprend pas tout de suite pourquoi il agit ainsi, mais elle sait qu'elle doit lui faire confiance. Marc dit alors à l'oreille de la jeune femme « Prend sa queue dans la main. Branles le tout en le suçant. Tiens la par la racine... Comme ça. Tu comprends ? ». Oui ! Amélie comprend qu'ainsi elle empêche Raphaël de s'enfoncer trop profondément dans sa gorge. Alors elle synchronise la succion délicate du bout de la queue et le mouvement de branle plus énergique du reste de la hampe. Et le plus vite sera le mieux. Sa bouche devient plus avide, ses doigts plus vicieux. Et l'effet ne se fait pas attendre. Raphaël râle : « Ohh elle va me faire venir laaaa Chienneeee... Plus vite, plus vite ». Elle accélère. Elle va la faire cracher. Ça gonfle... Le porc trésaille... Elle sort précipitamment la queue de sa bouche. Marc la guide. « Branles le fort, n'arrêtes pas... ». Elle enserre et accentue encore le mouvement de va-et-vient... Elle presse bien à la racine et fait monter la jute vers le gland... Et... Ça gicle ... Un jet gluant atterrit sur sa joue. Elle a un mouvement de répulsion et relâche la pression sur l'engin. Mais Marc autoritaire lui intime l'ordre de finir le travail : « Continues à branler ! Surtout n'arrêtes pas ! Allez vide le !!! » Alors malgré sa répugnance, elle poursuit le mouvement de branle de la queue giclante. La jute coule sur ses doigts. Elle a l'impression de traire la queue qui glisse dans l'étau poisseux de sperme de sa main. Encore un spasme, un autre. La pine diminue déjà de volume, devient plus molle. Elle ne lâche plus des yeux Marc, attendant les directives. Il lui fait un signe satisfait. Elle peut lâcher l'engin. Ouf ! Raphaël est vidé. Il s'affale contre le mur de la douche. Mais ce n'est pas fini. Elle le sait. Il reste Marc à soulager. Il bande comme un taureau. Il attend. Elle doit le faire. Elle doit le soulager. D'elle même, Amélie se saisit de la pine impressionnante, la fait d'abord coulisser lentement entre ses doigts, doucement, puis avec un peu plus d'énergie et à mesure qu'elle affirme sa prise sur la racine, elle approche ses lèvres du gland, le gobe, le suçote, le suce, s'embouche à la bite. Et elle suce et elle branle et elle branle et elle suce avec application le braquemard du mâle en rut. A mesure que l'orgasme monte en lui, il crispe de plus en plus ses mains sur la tête de la jeune femme. Il l'a prévient : « Je vais bientôt jouir, ma chérie ». Elle a un mouvement de recul. Il réaffirme sa prise : « Laisses moi jouir dans ta bouche ». Elle le regarde inquiète. Il sait la rassurer, lui dire les mots qu'elle a besoin d'entendre : « Fais-moi confiance. Montres-moi comme tu m'aimes. Ta bouche est si bonne tu sais. Ohh ça vient. Vas-yyyyy... Montres moi comme tu m'aimes... Ouiiiiiiii... ». Une première giclée fuse et atterrit, comme une glaire, dans sa gorge. Surprise, elle desserre l'emprise de ses lèvres, mais, elle n'a pas le droit de le décevoir, alors immédiatement elle se ressaisit et poursuit le mouvement de branle avec la main, sans vraiment dérober sa bouche. La pine crache sur sa langue puis ses lèvres et, Marc finit de jouir et les dernières gouttes s'écoulent du méat sur les doigts d'Amélie. Elle en a plein la bouche. Le goût est gras, écoeurant. Alors elle crache, mais pas assez loin et le sperme échoue sur sa cuisse. Un filet de bave et de foutre pend de ses lèvres. Elle crache encore, moins fort, alors ça dégouline sur *** menton, *** cou. Pendant ce temps, elle continue de masser la bite à qui perd de sa vigueur. Elle n'ose pas regarder Marc. Elle doit être absolument ignoble à voir.

The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!



Spanked to *********** A Novella


Summary: A white boss is dommed by her 18-year-old black female employee.

Thanks 1: To the real Annie-girl who inspired this long tale. (Her draft Temp Takes Over was the inspiration for this story)

Thanks 2: To all my friends who read this story and gave suggestions (Julia, Julie, Danielle, and Anne.)

Thanks 3: To my brilliant editors who catch my mistakes (Steve B for his suggestions and Estragon for his copy editing)

*

NOTE 1: Of course, all participants are 18 years of age and older.

NOTE 2: This story is long and builds at a much slower pace than most my other stories. If you are looking for quick sex this is not for you. This is much more a story of one woman's journey from a normal overworked woman, who suppresses her sexual needs, to one who submits entirely, although not without much inner struggle, to her Mistress.

NOTE 3: Although in the BDSM category for obvious reasons, this story is strictly a LESBIAN fantasy and strictly a black dome/white sub story. A fantasy that is not as far from the truth as one may think...

NOTE 4: Also, if spanking, ***********, anal sex, younger-older domination, sex with food, or interracial dominance offends you, please don't read any further.

NOTE 5: Lastly, This is a story for the National Nude Day Competition.

SPANKED TO **********

PROLOGUE:

Like all good stories, I should start at the beginning.

I was a rather flat-chested teenager who was ignored or teased by the boys most of my high school life. I was a nerd of sorts and since the boys showed little interest in me, I focused on my grades, the only thing in my life I got recognition for. This determination to be the best academically paid off as I got a scholarship to a good college. It also set up a pattern where I always strived to be the best at everything I did.

When, in college, a boy really showed an interest in me, I fell in love rather quickly and after graduating college with distinction, I married my long term boyfriend, the only man I had ever slept with. I agreed to go wherever his job took us, turning down many very good job offers in the process. We ended up living in Boston, and my career began to thrive, while his didn't. After a couple of years, a great opportunity came up for him in New York, and being the faithful, loyal wife I was, I quit my successful job and followed. Unfortunately, he eventually lost his job; while I was getting promoted at the firm I am in now. He couldn't handle my success, feeling it was the man's duty to be the breadwinner of the household. He began ******** and becoming verbally abusive towards me. He accused me of '******** my way to the top'. The absurd accusations and his increased reliance on ****** led to our divorce. I spent the next few years focusing on my job, determined to indeed reach the top, but not by ******** my way there, but by being the best. Relationships were nonexistent, as I focused on making partner at the firm. At age 29, all my determination and hard work paid off and I was made partner.

During this whole rise to the top, I had one assistant that was indispensable, Jane. She was an incredibly loyal, hardworking and dedicated assistant, whom I relied upon heavily. She knew what her role was and we worked more as a team than in the usual boss-assistant scenario.

Work with Jane was a comfortable routine; we were a well-oiled machine, until Jane became pregnant. She desperately wanted ******** and at 35 her biological clock was ticking. Of course, I supported her decision as a friend, but as a boss this was terrible news. She announced she was pregnant right in the middle of a new campaign we were putting together for a very large and potential very valuable new client. To make matters worse, for both her and me, Jane had complications and had to go on maternity leave early, before we had finished our proposal for this new company.

It was the beginning of the summer and Human Resources had the audacity to tell me they had hired a girl who was still in college. She would be with us all summer. I couldn't believe they would even consider giving me a college student, never mind one who had not even graduated yet. I was furious, but my ranting and raving was to no avail. The only thing I knew was that she was to start the next morning, and that her name was Audree, spelt with two 'e's' for Pete's sake. I cursed my ill-luck and prepared for the inconvenience of training a raw rookie during this very critical time.

NEW ASSISTANT

I know I have high expectations as a boss. I strive to always be the best. I expect the same from my employees. My work day starts early in the morning, around 6:30 a.m., and I leave about the same time in the evening, except when I have to lead presentations or entertain clients. Jane knew my routine and was always at work by 7:30, with my coffee and bagel.

So when the HR manager, Louise, strolled in at 8:30 with my new assistant Audree, I was elbow deep in paper work. Louise, with her usual big fake smile, introduced me to Audree. I looked up, annoyed to be distracted from my work, to see my new temporary assistant for the first time. I was taken aback by how beautiful this young woman was. I was also taken aback by how young she was. She looked like she could be a freshman in high school, not a college graduate. Still assessing my new assistant, I took a lengthy look at her attire. Although not even lesbian curious, the first thing I noticed about her was her gigantic breasts. Each curve was clearly visible, based on the tight sweater she was wearing.

I have always been very self-conscious of my rather small breasts, and she walked in with these seemingly perfect set of tits. It was then that it finally hit me that she was black; I hadn't even noticed, probably because I was so taken with her beauty and commanding presence. Louise was talking, but I didn't hear a word, as I was transfixed on this young black woman.

I finally broke out of the spell I seemed to be under and asked Louise to repeat herself. After some generic pleasantries and chit-chat, Louise showed Audree around and explained what the job entailed. I had to believe Louise had it in for me, giving me someone so young and inexperienced when I had such a critical project to work on, not to mention a couple of others in the early stages of development.

I tried to get a real assistant one last time, someone out of diapers. Without success, I argued with Louise that Audree looked like she was sixteen. Louise explained that Audree was actually eighteen but had graduated high school at an accelerated rate when she was sixteen and had already finished two years of college. Louise also suggested I was lucky to have her as she was sought after by all the big firms in the city. The girl was a marketing genius and I was supposed to work with her and make her happy so she would sign a pre-packaged job offer when she graduated. It became apparent that I not only had a job to do, I also had to babysit some school girl. I was beyond furious and told Louise that we worked for a major marketing firm and not a babysitting service, but Louise just shrugged and said "This is what upstairs wants; so if you don't like it go talk to them." Knowing that would make no difference, I fired off a few choice curse words and stormed out.

But over the next few weeks, Audree proved herself to be a valuable asset as my assistant. I hated to eat crow, but Louise was right. Audree was a brilliant young lady, an incredibly hard worker and had an ability to get along with everyone.

One day, as we were getting near to closing that very important deal, things were not going as well as I would have wished. I went off the handle and Audree was the one that took the brunt of my anger, even though it was not her fault. Jane was used to my outbursts and took them in stride, knowing it was how I released stress. But the look on Audree's face was one of complete shock. Although our relationship didn't change instantly, I noticed a small difference in how she treated me. There became a slight chill between us.

A short time following my flare-up, our company was awarded the contract, based partly on a great idea of Audree's that seemed to be the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. But as business politics works, I was up for a pretty generous bonus. I usually share a portion with my assistant. Since this time I had two assistants, I had to figure a way to split it up between the two of them.

A week later, towards the end of the day, a bottle of champagne was sent down from the CEO of the company. I usually don't ***** much, so I invited Audree to help celebrate our success. As we relaxed with the champagne, we talked some about her schooling and different things. I don't know if it was my reaction to the champagne, but I really did notice her intelligence, confidence and composure as she conveyed her past history.

I also felt a pang of remorse, recalling how I had blamed her earlier for that incident that was not her fault. This seemed to me a good time to apologize profusely for my actions. Then I told her that she was in line for a bonus. To my total amazement, Audree turned down the bonus and suggested I should give it all to Jane. Then I offered, "If there is anything I can do for you, you just let me know. I will do my best to help you." The offer was sincere, as I figured she would need a good reference for when she went back to school. She was also such a sweet, dedicated, hard-working girl that I knew we would be offering her a generous contract soon. I told her that I was sure that offer would even include paying for her last two years of college if she agreed to sign on with us for at least five years.

She gave me a slightly seductive smile, I thought, and responded, "Thank you Ann, I certainly plan to take you up on your offer."

THE FIRST CONFRONTATION

The first few days of the next week foreshadowed what was to come. The changes in our relationship were so subtle that at the time I didn't notice, but they were there. On Monday she wore an outfit that had a generous v-neck, allowing me to have an ample view of her impressive breasts. On Tuesday she jokingly smacked my ass as she left my office for the day. Wednesday she pointed out that my usual business suit and slacks were rather manly and did nothing to showcase my assets. On Thursday, during a tense moment where we missed a deadline, I snapped at Audree in my usual over-the-top-irrational manner. Much to my surprise, she shot back telling me not to treat her like a *****. I was speechless; I was not used to having an employee talk back to me. Before I could react, she stormed out of my office. I spent the next couple of hours moving from angry to upset, realizing that she was right and that I really needed to treat my employees with more respect.

I paged her into my office and she walked in with a new demeanour. She was always confident and borderline cocky (that was what I liked about her), but there was something different about her. Her words dripped with coolness as she said, before I could apologize, "I have been thinking about this for a while. I can't have you treating me like that anymore."

I began to apologize, but she cut me off, her tone authoritative and her look domineering, "Don't interrupt me." I stopped mid-sentence, stunned by her tone. She waited, her look daring me to speak. When I remained silent, she explained, "As I was saying, I can't have you treating me so disrespectfully. So I have concluded that you need help, and I have a solution to this problem."

I looked at her bewildered and slightly annoyed, "And what would that be may I ask?"

"I can't work with you anymore, if you continue to berate me. You don't see it, but your little tantrums, always wrongly directed, are damaging your relationships with many at the firm, especially your relationship with me. Is that what you want?"

"No," I responded and considered her accusations. I concluded she was right and asked, sincerely, "What do you have in mind?"

She approached me at my desk, "Well Ann, when you act like that, it is like you are acting like a little girl, a *****, and when little girls act up, they get spanked."

My mouth hung open. Out of all the so-called solutions I thought might come out of her mouth, this was not one of them. I stuttered, trying to process this stunning development, "Y-y-you are suggesting you want to spank me?"

Audree ignored my question, "Here is how it will work, Annie-girl. Every Friday, at the end of the day, as long as I am here as your assistant, you will be spanked on your bare butt to help you learn how to act like a grown woman. You need to stop your silly tantrums and spewing out names that hurt people, and only thinking of yourself, do you understand, Annie girl?"

I sat at my desk, stunned in silence. All I could think of at first was that only my *********** had ever called me Annie-girl, and I was petrified of her. Before I had time to process her suggestion, she turned and left my office leaving me to contemplate her aggressive and unorthodox solution. As I sat motionless at my desk, I tried to remember the last time I was spanked. Like Audree had implied, it was back when I was a bratty little girl. I tried to collect myself and as I stood up to leave for the day, I felt a tingle in my lower region; a tingle that I seldom had felt since I had divorced my ass of a husband.

THE SPANKING

After a night of tossing and turning, I ended up ******** right through my 5:30 alarm. I arrived at work a little later than usual, a little after 7:30. As usual my schedule was full and I didn't have much time to think about the absurdity of yesterday's events. On the train to work, I began to assume that Audree was just playing a joke on me. Even so, I had a nervous nauseous most of the day. After returning from a lunch meeting, my mail was waiting for me on my desk, as usual. At the bottom of the pile was a letter with "ANNIE-GIRL" written on it in big letters. The nervous nausea that had finally begun to settle over lunch, returned with a vengeance. I opened the letter tentatively and realized they were the instructions for later today. The letter read:

Dear Annie Girl,

Today at 5:30 p.m. you will receive the spanking that you agreed to yesterday; yes, you agreed, because I didn't hear even the slightest hint of protest when I explained my conditioning. These are the instructions I EXPECT you to follow, so as to eliminate any awkwardness that may be present. I will come in and sit on your love seat, you will take off your blouse and approach ME, lower your slacks (unless you are wearing a dress or skirt which I have already hinted is what someone like you should ALWAYS be wearing) to your ankles and then your panties and lay across MY knee and I will proceed to spank your ass.



If you are reading this without ME present, you obviously cannot read, so look at the front of the letter (retrieving it from the waste paper basket, I looked and to my horror realized it said "DO NOT OPEN TILL 4:30"). So as a punishment for not waiting, as instructed, a few more spanks will be added to your total.



One more VERY important thing, you are to call me MS AUDREE from now on, no matter where we are or who else is around you will address me as MS AUDREE; when your door is closed it will be clear that I am the SUPERIOR to you and you should address ME properly.



The slightest sign of disobedience will result in harsh punishments.



Ms. Audree

I looked at the clock and realized it was only a little after 1 P.M., hours away from my so-called discipline. I wanted to confront Audree now, but I knew she was gone all day doing research for another upcoming advertising campaign. I sat back on my chair and worried: was this really happening? I was her superior. There was no way she should be treating me differently. My anger built up and while working with an ad campaign artist, Adam, my frustration boiled over and I lambasted him for his slowness at finishing the poser campaign for the client we had just won a contract for. In truth, it was not his fault, and his work was the best we had, but he ended up being the object of my anger over Audree's ridiculous attempt at power.

I stormed out of the meeting like a five year old, and returned to my office. My anger turned to shame, and then to remorse. I shuddered in embarrassment over the fact that I could not control my anger.

Most Friday afternoons are slow, so we have most of our staff work only every other Friday (we work long days and giving our staff a long weekend every second week is great for morale; we, of course, stagger the staff so we still have half our employees working and available). This Friday was no different, and with no real crisis to work on, I had even more time to consider the whole Audree situation. I thought about firing her, but what would be my justification? She was an amazing worker, and well liked by everyone at the firm. I could give her the 'I-am-the-boss' speech and make a clear line between boss and employee. I eventually decided I would attempt to have a serious and calm conversation with her in which I apologized for my disrespectful outbursts. Content with my plan, I worked on another upcoming campaign as the clock continued to tick.

At 4:25, Audree came into my office, dressed for the first time ever in slacks and a blouse, dressed like me. She extended her hand, "Let's see the letter".

I retrieved the letter and handed it to her. I had read it a thousand times already.

As soon as she saw it was out of its envelope a big smile grew on her face. With a I- knew-it attitude, she purred, "Just couldn't wait, could you Annie girl?" Her facial expression and tone was a mixture of dominance and amusement. "You know what that means then don't you, Annie-girl?"

Ignoring the question, I tried to reason with her, as I had practised all afternoon, "Audree."

"It is Ms. Audree," she corrected me, again her tone condescending.

Deciding the name thing was not the fight worth fighting, I obliged her request, as I attempted to rationalize the situation, "Ms. Audree, I am really sorry about my immature over reaction the other day. It won't happen again."

"You bet it won't," she responded.

I continued, "But I am the boss and...."

I was interrupted a second time by my temporary assistant. Her tone was now like that of a teacher speaking to a kindergarten *****, "Didn't you blast Adam just a couple of hours ago?"

"Yes," I answered, ashamed, feeling the power shift beginning to occur. I attempted to defend myself, "But, I already said I won't let it happen again."

She laughed cynically, "Trust me, Annie. I know your behaviour will improve. I am going to make damn sure of it. So how many spanks should your punishment be?" she pondered.

I instantly wondered how many she originally had in mind. I went from aggressive to defensive as I said, "Audree, but I didn't...."

She raised her voice, her eyes on fire, "If you call me Audree one more time, I will double your punishment."

Desperate not to anger her any more, I again attempted to reason with her, "Ms. Audree, I didn't even see 'open after 4:30' until after I had read the letter."

She shrugged her shoulders and said flippantly, "You didn't follow a direct instruction. What kind of person would I be if I let such clear disregard for orders be ignored?" I remained silent and powerless to this young black girl. Audree confidently walked to the door, announcing as she left, "I will see you in a little while, to deal with your discipline and training. I expect no more of this silly back-talk." Before I had a chance to respond, she gave a smug laugh and walked out the door.

I sat flabbergasted. That did not go at all as I planned. I contemplated leaving early, but my fear of encountering her full wrath scared me. That hour was the longest hour in my life, waiting for what was coming next and desperately trying to find a way out of this situation.

At 5:33, three minutes late, Audree walked in. Without a saying a word, she sat on my love seat. I sat behind my desk, too scared to move. We looked at each other, a battle of wills of sorts. Audree waited patiently for me. I stood my ground at first, wondering if this was all still just an elaborate prank. If it was, Audree was a great actress. Her facial expression did not change while she waited for me to break. I was a bundle of nerves, riddled with anxiety, but I attempted to present myself as calm and collected. All my old insecurities came flooding back and I was no longer the confident successful boss, but rather the shy, geeky insecure teenager I used to be.

Audree finally broke the awkward silence. She instructed, still speaking to me as if I was a *****, "Okay Annie-girl, enough stalling, I don't have all night. You know what you have to do, or are you going to try and back out and act more like a *****?" Those words stung, they angered me, because I based my reputation on always being true to my word. So although I didn't want to, I stood up and walked confidently to Audree, trying to hide my insecurities. As I took each step, my mind yelled at me to run, but , I felt like I had to do this. I stepped next to Audree, and waited. She sighed, "Do I really have to repeat your orders, Annie-girl?"

I stuttered "N-n-no," not wanting to upset her and I unbuttoned my vest. Once discarded, I began to unbuttoned my blouse, my fingers visibly shaking.

Her impatience was ice cold, "Hurry it up Annie-girl. Do you need help undressing?" I didn't think I could be more embarrassed, but such words upped my ***********. I slid my blouse off my shoulders and revealed my padded bra, which brought a smirk to Audree's face. I looked down, avoiding eye contact, and got a good look at her ampler cleavage; her young firm breasts were so much larger than my 34b's. My mind numb, I undid my belt, my slacks button, lowered the zipper and slid my slacks down to my ankles. My *********** burned. I stood helplessly in front of this young black girl. Revealing my underwear, Audree laughed out loud, and through muffled chuckles criticized, "Honey, those panties look like your ************'. A woman your age should be wearing something a whole lot sexier than that or nothing at all". A disturbing chill of fear went up my spine when she compared me to my ***********.

Now came the moment of truth. I hadn't been naked in front of anyone since before I was divorced, and that was almost five years ago. My insecurities overwhelmed me. In the looks department, I feel I am rather average. I used to wear more make-up, but I had been able to ignore my sexual insecurities with my work. I slid my fingers into the waistband of my panties and lowered them to my ankles, as instructed.

I now felt completely vulnerable in front of my temporary assistant. She eyed my breasts, still in their padded bra, before her eyes moved towards my uncovered vagina. She then said obnoxiously clearly grossed out, "Are you kidding me?" I wondered what part of my body she was being critical about. I was desperate to get this over with; I just wanted to get across her knee as quickly as possible. She added, "Have you ever heard of trimming or shaving? You have the hairiest cunt I ever seen!"

I stood still, my cheeks radiating red in shame. I used to trim my pussy when I was married, but had quit looking after it since I quit having sex.

Just when I thought the worst of the *********** was over, it got even worse. The young girl ordered, her tone dripped with disgust, "Give me your blouse to lie across my knees. I don't want that hairy thing touching any of my clothes." Just wanting to get this over with, I handed her my blouse and watched her lay it across her legs. She snapped her fingers like I was her maid, her servant. Understanding what she was requesting, I awkwardly positioned myself on top of her knees. I thought not having to look at her and her not able to see my face would make it easier, but I quickly realized what a compromising position I was in. I was powerless in every sense of the word. So alien to the usual power I had at work. I was the boss, I was always in control.

She pinched me a couple of times and again criticized my body, "Looks like Annie-girl needs to lose a few pounds, doesn't she?"

I meekly gave her the answer she wanted to hear, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" she asked, obviously aggravated.

"Yes, Ms. Audree."

"That's better, Annie-girl," she cooed. She gently rubbed my ass with her soft hands; her hand occasionally moving ever so close to my vagina, which much to my mortification was getting wet. After a minute or two of silence and gentle teasing, she explained, "Here is how it is going to go. Originally I was going to give you 15 swats with the bare hand on each cheek, but since you opened the letter early, I am adding 5 to each cheek. So how many swats are you going to receive, Annie girl?" she asked.

"Twenty on each cheek, Ms. Audree" I answered, completely embarrassed.

"How many do you deserve?" she questioned, testing me.

"Twenty, Ms. Audree," I responded.

"Why twenty?"

"Because I disobeyed, Ms. Audree," I answered, desperately wanting to get this over with, desperately wanting to regain control.

Ms. Audree spanked my bare ass with her hand; the first one hit me hard, the sound of the smack echoed in my office and I let out a pretty loud cry. Audree recommended, "You may want to keep it down, unless you want the cleaning crew to come in and see you in this position."

Desperately afraid that she was right, I concentrated on being quiet as I took my punishment; 39 more to go. I bit my lip and tried to keep quiet, while she continued to spank me. She took her time, letting the aftermath of each slap linger. It seemed that just as I partially recovered from her most recent blow, she would come down with another. Her spanks were also very thorough. She went from the top of my butt to the top of my thighs. After five hits on each cheek, I was crying. By ten I was bawling uncontrollably.

I pleaded with her to stop, "Please Ms Audree, I will never misbehave again."

"If you give even one more hint at disobedience, I will double your punishment, understand Annie-girl?"

There was no way I could take fifty more, I didn't even know how I would do twenty. It seemed impossible. I whimpered, "Yes, Ms. Audree."

"Ask for your punishment, Annie girl," she commanded.

Against every logical fibre of my being, I begged, "Please Ms. Audree, spank my fat white ass."

My own words of self-criticism seemed to work as I felt the hard crack of her palm on my ass. I lost count, tears dropping down my face, the constant burning pain searing my ass cheeks. When she quit, I waited silently, unsure if she was done, praying she wasn't teasing me with more. She rubbed my butt for a couple of minutes; the gently caressing was such a change from the earlier assault.

Suddenly and roughly she pushed me off her lap and I tumbled to the ground. I felt like I was being discarded. Audree stood up, "Annie-girl, you did pretty well for the first time, now clean yourself up. I will see you on Monday."

I was left alone in my office crying, slacks and panties at my ankles, and my blouse all wrinkled after lying on it for over twenty minutes. I tried to pull myself together, but as I started to dress, I couldn't stop crying. It was like something had gone off inside of me and the faucet was broken. I thought back and tried to remember the last time I had cried, and realized it had been many, many years. Finally, around 6:30, I was all cried out. I straightened my clothes out and oddly felt pretty good. I can't explain it, but all the tears had seemed to cleanse me. I felt like my mind was clear, clearer than it had been in a very long time. I almost forgot about my spanking and the complete *********** I had just endured, until I sat down in the seat on the train home. The burn in my ass returned with a vengeance as I sat. I immediately stood up from the pain. I was desperate to get home and soak my ass.

At home that night I had a long, long bubble bath, drank a full bottle of wine, and read a book, as I tried to erase the memories of earlier today.

Oddly, Friday night I slept like a baby, and awoke on Saturday feeling so alive! The day flew by and, as I lay in bed that night, yesterday's happenings flooded back. My ass no longer hurt, but I pondered how I would deal with Audree on Monday. As I reflected something strange started happening to me; I was getting horny. I couldn't control it as flashes of submitting to Audree danced around my head. I imagined seeing her big breasts, touching them, licking them. My breathing got deeper and my hand intuitively went to my vagina, or as Ms. Audree called it, the hairiest cunt she had ever seen. I began to play with myself, but instead of thinking of a nice hard cock pounding me, my thoughts were of me lying over Audree's lap as she spanked my ass. Before I knew it, I was coming like a mad woman, an intense, toe-curling orgasm that I hadn't felt in a long, long time. I passed out or fell into a deep *****, only to awake late on Sunday morning.

After waking and thinking about last night, I realized I had to get control of myself, I don't act like this; I need to regain my life. The first thing tomorrow I would talk to Audree and tell her that Friday was a one time thing and it would not happen again. I would make clear that our relationship was strictly a working relationship: I was the boss and she was the assistant.

I kept myself busy cleaning, which was my Sunday routine and tried not to think about it anymore. I talked on the phone with my ******; I watched the Amazing Race, wishing I could just leave and travel to any of the exotic places the contestants went to. I did well at completely ignoring that tiny voice in my head until I got in bed again. It took all my will power, every last ounce of common sense, to restrain myself from allowing those feelings from last night to creep back inside me. I fought them off, barely, and avoided touching my eager cunt. Unfortunately, the resistance had a cost. I didn't ***** well at all.

IT'S NOT OVER

I got up Monday morning, still with a determined resolve to confront Audree of my decision, even though my pussy was telling me otherwise. I kept repeating the mantra 'mind over matter' in my head.

I was incredibly nervous about standing up to Audree, in the same way I used to be too shy to talk to a boy I liked. I hated rejection, in love and work, and was worried about how she would react to my newfound confidence. I got to work and found a note from Audree,



"I will be in about 10. Your schedule for the day is under this note. Ms Audree".

I particularly noted how she signed her name, Ms. Audree. She had no intention of backing down. This note was on my desk in plain view and could have been seen by other firm members if they had happened to come into my office. That said, the note didn't really say anything extraordinary. I was waiting for a time during the day to talk, but my schedule didn't allow it. We crossed paths a few times throughout the day, but never long enough or private enough to have the conversation I needed to have with her. It was after 5:00 when Audree came into my office. She strolled up to my desk, standing above me and looked down at me, the marketing rule of power in her hands, and asked bluntly, "Well Annie-girl did you get that hairy cunt of yours shaved yet?"

All day my fortitude to end this was strong and focused, yet right there with one well-worded and authoritative question, all my resolve to confront her and tell her this silly charade was over, drained from me. Instead of confidently telling her I was in charge, all I could do was lower my head, avoiding eye contact, and answer in quiet shame, "No, Ms. Audree."

"Why?" she asked, her tone implying I had disobeyed her.

"Sorry, Ms. Audree, but you told me I had a hairy vagina," I began.

"Cunt," she corrected me, "You have a hairy cunt. Vagina is what a twelve year old calls it."

"Sorry, Ms. Audree," I quickly apologized and then reworded, "You told me I had a hairy cunt. I didn't realize that meant I was supposed to shave it."

"You really are like a *****, Annie-girl. You have tantrums like a little girl, you dress like a little girl and apparently you listen like a little girl." I tried to protest, but she kept on talking. "So clearly I have to tell you exactly what you are to do. All I remember saying was that Annie-girl should shave that hairy disgusting cunt of hers. I didn't say when, all I know is that when I tell you to do something it should be done as soon as possible unless I say otherwise, is that clear?"

Not looking up, I whispered, "Yes, Ms. Audree."

"And stop pouting like a five year old. I expect you to look me in the eye when I am talking to you. Understand?" she instructed.

As she was speaking, I began to feel myself getting sexually aroused; I frantically tried to tell my body no, no, no. Why was this happening? I sheepishly looked up into her eyes and she into mine. It felt like she could see right through me, past the powerful facade I presented at work, to the insecure girl I have always been deep down. I responded, as expected, "Yes, Ms. Audree".

Leaning on my desk, her lips so close to me that I could smell her minty breath, "I didn't think you would do it, so I made you an appointment for you to see a friend of mine. She will give you a trim and shave, maybe even a Brazilian. What do you think of that, Annie-girl?"

"I have never had one, Ms Audree," I answered, very nervous to have a complete stranger seeing my inadequacies up close.

"Oh, that is obvious. But don't worry Annie-girl, she is very good at what she does," she reassured me, before adding with a slight smirk, "So it should be relatively painless Annie-girl."

Each time Audree called me Annie-girl, a small piece of my defensive shell withered away. I can't explain it, but hearing the name Annie-girl had me feeling like a little girl who should just do as she is told. The control she had over me seemed to be getting stronger even though I could not even begin to explain why I was letting this happen to me. But instead of even attempting to reason with this young black assistant, I asked, "Ms. Audree, what time is the appointment?"

"It is at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon, Annie-girl. It is already on your schedule."

I couldn't even believe the words I spoke next, "Thank you, Ms. Audree."

This seemed to please her. Her tone softened, "Now let's see if you are a good girl. What other concern have you disobeyed of mine?"

A chill of urgency and panic filled me as I tried to figure out what was the correct answer. I can't believe how important it became to me to please her. The answer popped into my head as I said, "You want me to dress better, Ms. Audree."

"Good girl, Annie-girl, you just may get in my good books yet," she said. She patted me on the head, like I was a puppy, "Well I have to run, you have yourself a good evening Annie-girl; and no playing with that hairy cunt. Brenda will be able to tell if you have so you best obey like a good girl and leave it alone for a night." She turned and left my office, and I was left there yet again trying to puzzle together how this sexual debauchery transpired. Where did it go wrong? Why didn't I stand up for myself? Actually, why didn't I stand up at all? I was going to tell Audree it was over and instead I had apparently agreed to have someone I didn't know shave my pussy. I decided I would have to talk with her tomorrow and let her know in no uncertain terms that this had to end. Feeling confident that I had some of my will back, I packed my things and left for the day.

Although I was convinced there was no way Audree's friend could tell if I had an orgasm, I ignored my pussy that was begging for special attention. Maybe because I didn't pleasure myself and get the sexual release I desperately needed, or maybe because I still couldn't figure out why I had again not stood up to a young nobody assistant, I suffered through another night of tossing and turning. No matter how I tried, I was unable to get the thought of how I would or if I could confront Ms. Audree tomorrow; that was when I realized how deep I was falling, as I noticed even in my thoughts, alone in my bed in seclusion, I was referring to my young, black, 18-year-old assistant, as Ms. Audree.

SHAVED AND...

I arrived at work, as usual earlier than anyone else, hoping to have time to get prepared for my conversation with Audree and to confront her in the morning before the work day really started. This would be the perfect opportunity to end this humiliating situation before it escalated any more. In an attempt to regain my power position and confront Audree, I was dressed as I normally do; gray pinstriped business suit with vest and matching slacks; I felt very confident wearing this. Unfortunately and frustratingly, she didn't show up to work on time. I tried to work, but got very little done as I waited for Audree. Just when I began to wonder why she was late, she was never late, I noticed that I had a message on my voice mail.

"Annie-girl, I am not going to be coming into work today, your schedule is all laid out on my desk, and oh don't forget about your 4:30 appointment today; you will be very, very sorry if you cancel it. I have arranged for a cab to pick you up at about 4:15. Have a wonderful day."

I cursed to myself; I had planned to cancel the appointment, but I didn't even know which salon she had me booked at.

The day was totally messed up; I was on the phone all day long and never got any of my actual work done. I was finding out how much Audree deflected these calls and how without her my day was not even remotely productive. At 4 o'clock I was ready to get out of the office, a nervous wreck from all the annoying phone calls and redundant babble, even if it meant keeping my 4:30 appointment.

The cab, as organized by Ms. Audree, was waiting in front of the office building. During the ride, I started to get the nervous butterflies. I thought about what was going to happen to me or what I was going to allow to happen to me. The drive took an excruciating twenty minutes and brought me to some unknown slum part of town, just past some of the new subdivisions to a desolate old building. The cab stopped and let me out. He explained, with an odd smile on his face, "Ms. Audree has already paid me to wait until you are done. So I will be out here waiting."

"OK," I said, tentatively as I looked at the door to this dilapidated building.

I approached the door, paused, took a deep breath, and entered. I walked in and was greeted by an older black woman dressed in light blue medical clothes. She snapped at me, "So you must be Annie-girl. You are late, and Brenda hates it when her appointments are late."

Here I was, scared out of my wits, and some stranger who is supposed to wax my pussy is pissed because I am late. My annoyance and anger bubbled over and I snapped at the bitchy older woman, "Just tell Brenda I am here."

The older woman gave me a look of contempt, "Follow me, princess."

I held my anger in check as I was led into a room down the hall. I was told to remove my clothes and asked if I would like some herbal tea; which she suggested would help me relax. I agreed that some tea would be very nice and hoped it would release the tension and stress my whole body currently felt. She closed the door and left. I stood there for a couple of minutes trying to find a way out of this awkward situation. Seeing none, I began to undress. From the walls, I began to hear soothing music, which instantly relaxed me as I finished taking off my clothes. I stood in my panties and bra when the older woman returned with my tea. She looked me over thoroughly before suggesting I should undress all the way, otherwise I would only anger Brenda even more. After she shut the door, I sipped the tea and finished undressing. Standing naked in the strange room was incomprehensible. How had I come to this moment?
I surveyed the room and observed that it was painted in a soothing sunset orange. The room had a table, a couple of chairs and a few contraptions whose purposes I couldn't begin to imagine. My tranquility was broken when Brenda suddenly stepped through the door, greatly startling me. I used my left arm to cover my small breasts and I used my right hand to cover my naked hairy vagina. I let out a shocked gasp as I looked at this woman that Audree had sent me to. The black woman's arms were covered in tattoos. She wore a black and white bandana, a short schoolgirl plaid skirt, fishnet stockings, black ankle boots, and a strange white see-through blouse with no sleeves. I could see that both nipples were pierced. I had never been so intimidated or scared in my life.

To make things worse, I was starting to feel a little buzz from the tea, making me a little light headed. She looked me over and asked, "Well honey, what are we doing with you today?"

I looked her in the eye, which I couldn't hold for long before I submissively looked down, "I am here to get," I pointed to my vagina, "to get this waxed."

She laughed and said, "You are here to get your pussy, cunt, twat, waxed?"

"Yes, ma'am," I answered.

"Ma'am," she responded, roaring in laughter, "I don't think I have ever been called ma'am. Audree has really found a keeper with you."

My head stayed down. I wondered how many others Audree had brought here. Was I just some sort of experiment or game to Audree? My fury began to resurface. I decided this was ridiculous and got up to get dressed and leave. It was time to reclaim my dignity. I said politely, "I'm sorry Brenda, there has been some mistake. I need to go now."

She didn't speak at first as she seemed to be assessing my seriousness. My brief moment of confidence withered away as the shy insecure schoolgirl in me returned. "I don't think so. Your Mistress has sent me very clear instructions. You don't want to upset her, do you Annie-girl?"

My mouth dropped open as I looked at her stunned. The word Mistress had never even remotely been on my radar. As I attempted to wrap my head around the word, Brenda asked, this time her tone impatient and powerful, "Should I call your Mistress right now, Annie-girl?"

My head jolted up, my eyes full of fear, "No, ma'am."

"Good, I didn't think so," she said, her tone jubilant, knowing she had won. "Now just so you know, you are scheduled to get the works: pedicure, manicure, and waxing." She moved closer, "Move your hand away from your cunt so I can take a look at just how hairy that cunt of yours is. Audree said it was a complete fucking ********."

Blushing all the way down to my chest, I moved my hand; she let out a hysterical chuckle and shook her head. I stood there even more humiliated. She confirmed Audree's assessment, "Holy **** girl, I don't know if I have ever seen such a hairy twat in my life and I do this for a living."

The burn of *********** continued, "Can we just get this over with?"

"No problem," she responded, and called in Zelda, the older woman.

They started on my feet and did my nails as I kept ******** their unique tea blend; I was feeling decadent and rich. I had never been pampered like this. They were so gentle, massaging my feet and legs. I ended up in a dreamlike state, fading into semi- consciousness because of the mixture of the soft touch, the music and the tea.

By the time they got to my waxing, they asked me a couple of questions to which I said yes, and they began waxing. They did my legs and although each strip they pulled off me was uncomfortable, it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. They asked me to roll onto my belly and they did the back of my legs and, much to my surprise, my ass. The treatment continued with my armpits and lastly my vagina.

I heard a click and saw a flash and realized they were taking pictures of me. I quickly covered my pussy and breasts until Brenda roared, "Don't you dare fucking move!"

"But," I began, before being interrupted.

"I am taking pictures of your pussy only; no one will know it is you. I just need evidence for when I tell others about this white trash girl with the hairy cunt who had a young black Mistress."

I should have been angry, yet the tea had me relaxed. Defeated and humiliated, I did as I was told.

They spent a few minutes with scissors cutting the longer hairs until they finally were ready for what I heard Brenda say was called the Brazilian. By this time, my whole body was numb from the strange tea, and I watched, detached and distracted, as the hair from my vagina disappeared. Each yank of hair caused a charge of pain to sear through me, but it was quickly replaced with an odd numb feeling.

Eventually they were done and I was as hairless as a newborn baby. My legs, butt, armpits and vagina all had a slight burn. Brenda announced, "We're done Annie-girl, you may get dressed."

As soon as I stood up from the table I had spent two hours on, the burn of my body, especially my vagina, increased. I reached for my panties and Brenda grabbed them away from me. I looked at her, confused, the tea still leaving me in a bit of a tipsy state.

She instructed me strongly, "You will not wear panties for the next few days or it will cause a rash. Plus, I imagine that Mistress Audree wouldn't want her slut wearing panties anyway."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she said assertively. "Actually, I can't believe she allows you to wear pants. Good sluts wear skirts or dresses so their Mistress has easier and quicker access to their slave's pussy and ass."

I looked at her, disorientated and ashamed at being called a slut and a slave. I was nobody's slave. My anger began to boil again, but wanting to get out of there I reached for my slacks and put them on. The burn returned with the rubbing of the fabric against my legs. I finished getting dressed and watched silently as Brenda said, "I think I will keep these as a souvenir of the white slave with the hairy pussy."

Embarrassed and just wanting to get out of there, I let her keep my panties and handed her my credit card.

She waved it away, "Mistress Audree already paid for it."

Silently, I grabbed my purse and got out of the horrible room, with the horrible people. Happily, the cab was waiting for me outside. As I sat in the cab, there was a knock on the window. The old woman was there with a bag. She handed it to me and said, "This will help with the burning. Be sure to coat your cunt often." I took it and mumbled a thank you, humiliated, never making eye contact with her. During the ride home, I tried not to think of the horrors that awaited me, but oddly as I tried not to think of it, my bare pussy began to have the warm feeling again. What was the matter with me, I thought to myself.

I got home and took a long bubble bath to help ease the burning sensations that were now very prevalent. My body, my mind and my spirit were way past exhaustion, so I got ready for bed.

As I lay in bed, another humiliating day having came to an end, I sighed heavily as the words Mistress, slut and slave tossed in my head.

LOTIONED UP

The next day I woke up late, and oddly rejuvenated, yet sore, a fire burning between my legs. I remembered the bag I received and opened it. It was lotion. I looked at the clock and realized I was running really late. Feeling I didn't have time to put it on then, I put it in my purse. Not being able to wear panties, I decided on a long skirt and thigh highs stockings because pantyhose would have rubbed on my pussy and ass. I felt slightly sexy in stockings and newly shaved, and rushed to work feeling strangely good. It was after eight, way later than I ever got to work, and I began feeling stressed about arriving so late, especially since I left work early yesterday. Upon arriving, Audree was already there and followed me into my office and locked my door. An opportunity to end this was finally at hand. I turned around to speak to my assistant, but her confident smirk as her eyes met mine weakened my resilience. A sense of ********** instead rushed through me.

"So, Annie-girl, did you get your big girl cunt shaved like you were supposed to?" she asked bluntly. My face burned with a now familiar *********** and my embarrassment pulsed through me. I felt my pussy burn at the same time, but not in pain.

Instead of standing up for myself, as I should have done, I answered her question like a good slave should, "Yes, Ms. Audree, I did as I was ordered." Why did I use that word? It just makes me sound even more like a little *****. Audree followed me around my desk and stood next to me, and then patted the top of the desk. I looked at her, unsure of her intentions or expectations.

Patting the desk again, she demanded, "Jump up here and show me, I want to see your big girl cunt." I hesitated a little; the building was full of employees, unlike our late Friday meeting. She said sternly, "Come Annie-girl, don't be shy. I just want to see Brenda's handy work and make sure you did as you were told."

I looked back at the door. Reading my mind, Audree reassured me, "Yes Annie-girl, the door is locked. I will be the only one to see your naked cunt."

Wanting to get this over with, I jumped up onto my desk and started to spread my legs some. But I was wearing a pencil skirt and quickly realized this was not going to work. I looked at her, and she asked, "Is there a problem, Annie-girl?"

"I can't open my legs wide enough, Ms. Audree."

"Well, there is a lesson here, isn't there? You should always wear skirts or dresses that I can get to easily." I looked at her, unsure what to do next. "So I guess you will have to take your skirt off, won't you, Annie-girl?"

This was dangerous. What if someone knocked at my door while I was half naked? I pleaded with her to reconsider her order. She just continued to look at me expectantly. Resignedly, I hopped down, unzipped the side of my skirt and removed it. Oddly, I was way less shy and nervous. I finished and hopped back up on my desk. While I obeyed another command, Ms. Audree sat in my chair, at my desk, and slid up to where my knees were locked together. I could literally feel the power shift in my office; I went from boss to servant. She brought her hands to my knees and put a little pressure on them. She said, approvingly for once, "Thigh high stockings, Annie-girl, that is very grown up of you. I expect you to wear such lingerie under your outfits every day now. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress, I mean Ms. Audree," I responded, unable to catch my faux pas in wording.

"Mistress, I like that," she responded, a smile on her face, "but I like Ms. Audree more."

I nodded as she looked up into my eyes. Then, without saying a word, just a look, commanded that I open my legs. I obeyed, like a good girl, doing it slowly, my eyes now shut, not believing what I was doing in my very own office; an office I had worked years to earn. Soon my naked pussy was on display for my young black assistant.

"Oh my, it is quite red. Does it hurt Annie-girl?" I nodded yes, and she asked, seemingly concerned, "Did Brenda give you anything to put on it? When was the last time you put on?"


"Yes, she did. But I haven't had a chance to put any on yet, Ms Audree," I replied.

"You are a silly little girl," she scolded, "Don't you know you have to look after your privates?"

I felt ashamed. I never have been able to handle criticism or scolding well.

"Did you bring it with you, Annie-girl?"

"Yes, it is in my purse," I said, pointing to the table where I put it down earlier.

She retrieved the lotion, and then sat looking at me. Then, her voice soft like a mommy talking to her ***** with a boo-boo, "Here, let me put some of this cream on for you." Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse or any more humiliating, I realized she was going to administer the lotion to my swollen red privates. As she was applying the lotion, I oddly started to feel really funny inside, my head spinning. The excitement that she was clearly arousing in me was impossible to hide. The whole time she was applying a generous amount of lotion on my vagina, she had a devious smirk on her face. She was clearly enjoying the power she had over me, her boss. She was talking the whole time, although I only remember parts, since I was greatly distracted by the tingle below, "Oh Annie-girl, your swollen pussy lips look so much better now, your hard clit looks so inviting, so completely tasty. Don't you feel better now that you don't have a big hairy freak-show cunt anymore, Annie-girl? Now you have a cute, sweet, ripe good girl pussy." I was getting more flushed and excited, both from her naughty words and her gentle rubbing. Each time her fingers touched my pussy lips or clit, I shook slightly, my pussy begging for more focused attention.

I have fought my whole life to be my own woman, to be a strong, determined, successful woman, and here I was legs spread on my desk, in front of my temporary assistant, now being reduced to being an insecure little girl again. It was stirring something erotic and sensual from deep inside my mind and body, something I had not felt in years. I realized officially, at this new degrading low, as absurd as it sounded, I had completely lost control. Ms Audree's finger slipped between my now wet pussy lips, not going inside my canal, just lingering in perpetual tease. I ************* moved my ass forward, trying to get her finger in me. My only focus was now only to come.

She moved her finger away, "Annie-girl, do you really want me to finger fuck you on your desk?" I gasped, immediately brought back to reality, my face burning in shame. "You are really, really wet, Annie-girl, but you better get dressed now. You have a very important meeting in about 10 minutes with Mrs. Williams from HHC, that new clothing firm we have been trying to land."

Attempting to talk business-like and in control, I sat awkwardly on my desk, legs spread open, pussy lathered in lotion, "Oh yes, do you have the file ready, Ms Audree?"

"Yes, you are sitting on it, Annie-girl. I hope I didn't get any lotion on it," she paused, before adding with obvious implication, "or anything else." She winked at me and opened the door before I had even begun to put my skirt back on. There I was still sitting on the desk without my skirt on, door open. I could hear people out in the reception area. Embarrassed and in full panic mode, worried about what if Mrs. Williams was early, I jumped off my desk and quickly put my skirt back on, just before Ms Audree brought Mrs. Williams in for the meeting.

Audree gave me an odd smile when she saw my flushed face and rattled look. I had a hard time concentrating during the meeting and was thankful that Audree assisted by answering many of Mrs. Williams' questions and concerns. Thankfully, I made it through the meeting without any sort of distraction, and by the end of it I felt confident we were close to closing the deal. But my apprehension and feeling how close it had been to getting caught had me upset. A client, a very important client, could have seen me naked. That was way too close a call for me. This had to end.

Still, for the rest of the day while trying to keep myself busy with work, I was greatly distracted with memories and images of how good I felt when Ms. Audree was applying the lotion to my aching pussy. Other than myself, no one had touched me down there in a very, very long time, and it had felt so nice; but it was another woman that had touched me, a young black 18-year-old assistant at that, who had me feeling all excited about being touched and now wanting more. Other than one brief college ******* evening of touching and fingering, I had never even really thought about another woman. Yet, now I couldn't get the image of Ms. Audree between my legs out of my head. It refused to leave, nor did the itching in my vagina.

At the end of the day, I found a note and a little zip lock bag that had my lotion in it. The note read:

Annie-girl,



This should be enough for tonight. I have the rest and will apply it again in the morning. Ms. Audree.

After I read the note, an absurd rush of pleasure went right to my pussy, thinking that she would be touching me again in the morning. This should have been problematic, especially after today's very close call, but instead I got intensely excited. I couldn't explain the excitement that I was feeling. I wondered what was wrong with me, wanting this young woman touching me. Yet, I couldn't resist the obvious fact that juice was leaking out of me like crazy. I couldn't take it anymore, I had to come. I lowered my skirt to my ankles, my desk hiding my compromising position. Although my pussy region was incredibly tender, I ignored the pain as I rubbed myself to an orgasm at my desk, the entire time thinking about Ms. Audree touching me, teasing me, pleasing me, and licking me. I sat in a small pool of my own cum as I recovered from an amazingly powerful orgasm. Now thinking straight, I pulled up my skirt and spent a late night at work, now focused on my job. I was amazed at how rejuvenated and focused I had become after I cleansed myself with an orgasm.

When I got home at 9:30, I had another bubble bath and went to bed. Unlike the previous couple of nights, I slept like a baby, my mind a blank slate.

GOOD VIBRATIONS

Upon waking, my thoughts returned to yesterday. I was torn. On the one hand, yesterday was too close for comfort...what if Mrs. Williams had come in fifteen seconds earlier? On the other hand, I had had my most productive work-time ever last night and my best ***** in years.

Getting ready for work that morning, I spent more time than I usual. I put on a one-piece blue dress, a hip black belt and thigh high stockings. I again obeyed Brenda's suggestion to not wear underwear.

By the time I headed for work, I was already running slightly late, so I didn't have much time to consider how to deal with this 'Ms. Audree' situation. The problem was, every time I tried, thoughts of her touching me floated in my head instead. Each time I tried to get the images out of my head, they refused to leave. In fact, they had the effect of making my pussy get that wet, needy feel again. Luckily, I arrived at work just then, flushed and needing to come.

Ms. Audree was not at her reception desk when I arrived. As horny as I felt, I thought immediately, 'Perfect! I can hit the restroom to attend to my pussy and calm down this needy desire. First I'll just set this file on my desk.' My heart sank as soon as I entered my office. There sat Audree, at my desk, waiting. My uncomfortable wetness, however, trumped my surprise. "Ms. Audree, if you don't mind, I really do need to use the restroom before we begin."

Ms. Audree smiled widely, "No problem, Annie-girl, we got some time."

As I went into the bathroom, I wondered why I had asked my assistant permission to use the restroom. Wanting to have an orgasm, but knowing I didn't have time, I dried my pussy region as best I could with paper towels. Back in my office, I felt myself blushing, assuming and perhaps anticipating what was about to happen to me again.

Yet, today I wanted to do it; actually more accurately I needed to do it. But I sure didn't want to let on to Ms. Audree that I was not in control of my sexual emotions and desires. I could not let her know that the thought of her touching me made me so horny I couldn't think straight.

So as I returned to my desk, Ms. Audree snapped her fingers and pointed to my desk. This time, my attire was more convenient for both easy access and quicker recovery. Same as yesterday, I hopped up onto my desk, a little more confident and a little less embarrassed than yesterday. Without instruction this time, I pulled up my dress and spread my stocking covered legs to present my shaved pussy to Ms. Audree.
She seemed pleased by my compliance as she peered between my legs and at my naked cunt. After a few seconds of utter silence, Audree said, "Oh, I left the lotion in my purse, I will be right back." As she walked to the door, she paused and demanded, "Don't you dare move a muscle, Annie-girl." Purposefully, she left the door partially open.

I was mortified; this was a whole new level of risk and obedience. There I was, sitting on my desk, my dress up to my waist; legs spread wide open, and door partially open. I could hear rumblings from the outer office stirring. It seemed like forever for Audree to return. I was a nervous wreck, worried that another employee might walk into my office and catch me in this humiliating, submissive situation. How would I explain it? How could I explain it? Even so, as nervous as I was, my pussy was getting excited again. I could feel the juices warming up when she finally returned.

Thankfully, she closed and locked the door. She sat in my chair and was again between my legs. Without any talk, she started to apply the lotion. After only a minute of Ms. Audree's soft touch, her cell phone rang. She abruptly stopped and took the call. Ignoring me completely, she began having a conversation as if I was not there. I was trying to sit patiently, though desperate to have the young girl's touch back between my legs. Looking at her between my legs, the feelings in my pussy started to take over my body. I felt my breathing getting tougher to control and my nipples harden. My pussy lips ************* opened slightly. I desperately tried to control myself, afraid I might leak some of my juices on my desk, in front of my black assistant. Just as desperately, I wanted her gentle touch back on my cunt. The embarrassment of sitting this long, like a loyal puppy dog, was humiliating. She moved farther away as she began talking even more quietly, clearly not wanting me eavesdropping.

Even though I felt completely degraded, my legs spread wide in front of this beautiful black girl had me so excited that I had to do something about it. I began playing with myself. I tried to do it quietly so she would not see the effect she had on me, the desperation of my actions to masturbate on my desk like a little slut. As I brought myself closer to climax, I noticed a scent and realized the scent was me. My pussy scent had begun to permeate the air. I was horrified. If I could smell myself, I was sure must have been able to smell it too while her face had been between my legs. Yet as horrified as I was, the fire between my legs was more urgent. My breathing began to pick up when I heard the harsh voice of Audree, "Are you fucking kidding me? I leave you for one minute and you fucking try to get off? What kind of slut are you?" She was not happy with me at all.

My hand instinctively moved away from my ravished pussy as I looked down, avoiding eye contact, my shame hitting another all-time low.

"Tiara, I will have to call you back, my Annie-girl here needs some serious discipline." She then turned to me "Where is your phone?"

I couldn't fathom why she would need my phone or what she could possibly have in store for me. I pointed to my purse. She took out my phone, flipped it open and punched some buttons. Walking over to me, she asked, "So you need to come, Annie-girl?"

"Yes," I answered ashamed and horny.

"Yes, what?" she asked, clearly perturbed.

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I quickly corrected.

"Beg me to let you come," she ordered, amused.

I looked at her, not knowing how to even begin to beg, "Please, Ms. Audree, I need to cum so badly."

"That was pretty weak, Annie-girl, you will have to do better than that to convince me you deserve to come," she explained.

My cunt doing all my talking, I begged, "Ms. Audree, please allow your slave to cum. I will do anything, Mistress. You own me. Just please, I can't take it much longer."

In a flash, her hand went to my cunt and she inserted my phone. I gasped.

She looked at me amused as she grabbed her own phone and dialled. Who the Hell could she be calling? In a couple of seconds I got my answer. My phone began vibrating inside me. I can't even begin to explain how thrilling the vibrating sensation inside me felt. I let out a loud moan when the first vibration hit, a muffled scream during the second, and I came like a white trash whore on the third. When I opened my eyes, I saw a smiling Audree and her Iphone. She was either videotaping my descent to whoredom or taking pictures. Either way I was mortified beyond words, but could do nothing but allow the orgasm to complete its journey through my body.

When my orgasm subsided, Ms. Audree stopped taping, which I concluded was what she was doing, and reached for the lotion. She ordered, "You may take the phone out of your cunt, Annie-girl." I obeyed, thankful for such permission. I pulled out my phone and it dripped with my cunt cum. Audree laughed, "You really are a flooder, aren't you, Annie-girl?"

"I guess," I said, ashamed once again.

As she got ready to leave, she gave me permission to get dressed, complimented me on my better choice of clothes and reminded me, "Just remember what you said, my Annie-girl. You would do anything. ANYTHING."

I didn't even realize I had said such words, but in the horny state I was in, I am sure I did. But what made me happy was the rare compliment she had given me. She liked my clothing choice.

She pressed a button on her phone and began talking as she left my office, "Hi Tiara. You will not believe what my boss just did." Her amused voice faded as she left my office. I went to my washroom and dried up my soaked vagina as best I could. I also tried to clean my phone, but I have to admit it was astonishingly hard to get the smell of pussy juice off a phone. I finally returned to work, surprisingly focused, having had a great big orgasm.

My productivity was astonishing and my ideas vibrant as I worked like an ant pleasing her queen all day. I saw Ms. Audree a few times throughout the day, but it was all business. Again as I left there was a note and a packet of lotion for that evening and again the suggestion that she would see me in the morning.

I left work, hopped on the train and headed home. As I replayed the morning over and over in my head, my pussy started to get wet. My cell rang. I was surprised to see it was Audree. She had never phoned me after hours before. There were no pleasantries, just a question, "Does your phone still smell like cunt?"

Sniffing the phone, which was a very strange thing to do on a subway train, I realized it still did. "Yes, Ms. Audree," I answered, slightly embarrassed.

"When you get home, I expect you to fuck yourself to at least two orgasms. Is that understood, Annie-girl?"

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I replied, actually liking a task she gave for once.

"Please tell me exactly what you plan to do when you get home, Annie-girl," she ordered.

I realized what she was doing. She wanted me to speak out loud on the train my ********** to her. I looked around the crowded subway train. Beside me was a high school boy, across from me an elderly grandma, and beside her a Chinese woman. I also noticed a couple middle-aged men standing in the aisle. I thought that they may or may not be near enough to hear my conversation. I shrugged, figuring who cares what these strangers heard me say and I went ahead and explained my plan for when I returned home. "Ms. Audree, I plan to strip myself naked, rush up to my room, grab my seven inch black dildo and shove it in my pussy. I also plan to grab my blue vibe and use it to tease my swollen clit as I fuck myself silly."

I heard a shocked gasp from the boy beside me. Looking up, I saw the elderly women looking at me with complete disdain. Ms. Audree complimented, "You are turning into a good white slut, Annie-girl."

I couldn't believe the words that came out of mouth next, "Thank you, Ms. Audree."

"One last thing, Annie-girl," she began.

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I nervously queried.

"I want you to flash at least one woman on the train before you get off, understood?"

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I responded, horrified by the new task.

She finished our conversation with a quick goodnight and hung up on me. I put mine away and kept my head down, avoiding any sort of awkward eye contact. I still had not fulfilled my task when I only had one stop left. Across the row, a pretty redhead, wearing a blue skirt, black pantyhose and pumps was reading a book. Luckily the boy was now gone. When I was only a few seconds from my stop, I opened my legs, swiftly lifted up my skirt and coughed. The redhead, as well as a couple of the men, looked at me, seeing my naked treasure. I kept my eyes on the redhead, a nervous smile on my face. Her mouth dropped slightly with shock. I held my slut pose for about five seconds and as the train slowed down, I abruptly stood up, letting my dress hide my cunt. I gave one last look at the redhead and winked. Her eyes never left me, but I couldn't tell if she was turned on or repulsed by what she had seen.

As I exited the train, one of the middle-aged men said aggressively, "If you need a real cock, I would be more than happy to oblige."

My face instantly turned red with embarrassment over the awkward situation I was now in. I ignored him and felt his hand pinch my ass. I kept walking, anxious to get off the train and away from this creepy man. Once off the train, I looked back and saw him wink as the train began to move again. Letting the pervert fade from memory, I replayed what I had just done. I had spread my legs and flashed a woman on a train...then I had winked at her. Where had that aggressiveness and forwardness come from? My pussy was so damp, I could feel it trickle down my legs as I walked the few blocks home from the train station.

By the time I got to my home, I was a horny mess. Once inside, all I could think about was completing Ms. Audree's orders and coming again. I was so horny, I removed my skirt and heels at the door and undressed on my way to the bedroom, ending up on my bed dressed only in thigh high stockings. I reached into my night-stand and grabbed both my blue vibrator and my black dildo. Usually I have to really get myself worked up to get the big black dildo inside me, but today my pussy was so lubed up already that the fuck-toy was easily engulfed by my love canal. Once all seven inches filled me, I turned on my thin high-powered vibe and allowed it to tease my clit. So horny from this strange day of **********, from this crazy moment of exhibitionism, it took only seconds for me to have my second orgasm of the day. I didn't let it subside. I held the vibe to my clit and began pumping the dildo in and out of my hot cunt. I fucked myself hard and fast as I replayed the morning in my head. The thrill of submitting to Audree was taking over my free will and overtaking my duty as a boss. Yet, that no longer mattered to me, as I brought myself to a second, third and fourth mind-blowing orgasms. I fell a***** exhausted from my multiple orgasms, dripping in sweat. I awoke about 11. I ate a little, read a couple of chapters of the novel I had been neglecting, and went back to bed, wondering what the Hell I was becoming. I hadn't come like that or had that many orgasms ever. I put lotion on my still tender pussy region and fell back a*****, oddly content.

HUMILIATED BY OTHERS

The following morning, I woke up before my alarm went off. After a quick shower, I got dressed for the day. It was Friday, and I assumed that meant that Ms. Audree would be spanking me again. The ********** to her had somehow turned me on this week, but the thought of her spanking me again, causing such pain, was not even remotely exciting. I looked in my closet and cursed my rather limited selection of dresses and skirts. I would have to go shopping this weekend. I eventually picked a blue blouse, my favourite colour, a black leather skirt, something I had never worn to work before, and beige thigh high stockings, my last clean pair. I added stockings to my mental list as I headed out the door.

Against my will, on the way to work I began to get excited about having my young, black, sexy, assistant lathering my privates with lotion. I was a little more composed than yesterday, beginning to accept the fact that it was going to happen and that I secretly wanted it to. As I got off the train and started walking to the office, about a five minute walk, I began to feel myself leaking; my juices ran to the top of my thigh highs stockings. What the fuck is a matter with me? Why am I getting so excited about having her treat me this way? I arrived earlier than Ms. Audree and went straight to my office's restroom to attempt to dry myself again. After drying my pussy, I returned to my desk. I looked for a note and found none, so I sat at my desk and waited for her arrival. I attempted to do some work, but was just too distracted about the possibilities of what lay ahead to be productive.

A half hour after she should have arrived, I received a telephone call from Ms. Audree. She said, sounded sincerely apologetic, "Sorry Annie-girl, but I completely forgot I had a 9 o'clock appointment today. I dropped the lotion off at the security desk for the building. You can pick it up there. Sorry but have to run, see you after lunch, Annie-girl."


I reluctantly, annoyed and disappointed, went down to the main lobby to pick up the package Ms. Audree had left for me. As the elevator descended I began to realize this was a blessing. Now I didn't have to worry about any sort of potential public ***********. I reached the security desk to retrieve package. At the desk was a large black woman, about 5'10", maybe 175. She had coal black eyes and ruby red lips. She looked like someone you would not want to mess with.


I told her politely that Ms. Audree had dropped something off for me.

She asked, "Ms. Audree, now who would that be?"


I cursed to myself as I realized my error, "Oh, Audree Williams, Ma'am."

"And why do you call her by that name?" she asked, curiously.

I blushed, embarrassed by the question, but ********* to give the truthful answer. I hesitated as I considered my lie, before I finally answered, "It is a sign of respect, just as I call you, Ma'am."


"Okay, it just seems funny that an older woman like you would be addressing a younger woman so properly," she said, her tone still probing. "By the way, I am Ms. Jones."


"Hello, Ms Jones, I guess it is just a habit I picked up that is hard to break. Blame my stay at home, Leave it to Beaver ******," I joked.

Ms. Jones laughed back and asked, "And who might you be?"

"I am Ann Pennington, Ma'am,"

She rubbed her chin, "Ann, you say. You are one of the executives on the 18th floor aren't you?"

"Yes", I answered.

She picked up my bottle of lotion, and looked at the envelope attached to it. A peculiar smirk appeared as she read the name, "Annie-girl, is that you?"


I blushed again, and stated in a low voice, "Yes, that is me, Ms. Jones."


Trying to make sense of it all, she clarified, "So you call Audree, Ms. Audree and she calls you Annie-girl?" She started to laugh and I began to wonder if she was beginning to put two and two together. She said, clearly toying with me and amused by the whole situation, "Okay, I will just need to hear you say who you are one more time and I can give you your lotion, okay?"

Angry and just wanting to leave, I barked out a little louder than I wanted too, "I am Annie-girl. Now give me my stuff, Ms. Jones."

"Didn't Ms. Audree teach you manners? You need to say the magic words, Annie-girl!!" Ms Jones stated in a condescending voice. It was obvious that she knew of my submissive weakness, otherwise she would not have been playing such a game with a high-powered executive who could have her fired in a heartbeat.


Furious now and with gritted teeth, "Ms. Jones, may I please have my bottle of lotion?"

"Here you are Annie-girl." She handed me the bottle, with a smug look and a raised eyebrow.


I grabbed it rudely from her hand and walked off, thinking how embarrassing that all was and what a fucking bitch the security guard was. Firing her popped into my head, but I assumed that Ms. Audree would punish me for such a reaction. Back in the elevator, I read the note.

Dear Annie-girl,

Sorry I could not be there to personally look after your cunt for you. The good news is I have a friend who is willing to help. Go to the bookstore across the street and ask for Tiara. She will be expecting you.



Ms. Audree

As the elevator door opened at my floor, I just stood, immobile. Again I told myself this whole thing had gone too far. Not only that, it was getting worse. I considered just ignoring the instructions. Instead I pressed the button for the lobby and descended back down.

As I walked past the security desk, Ms. Jones called out, "Back so soon, Annie-girl?" The tone in her voice was an odd mix of flirting and sarcasm.

I ignored her and walked past the lobby and out into the fresh air. I crossed the street and stopped in front of the bookstore. I hesitated, wanting to disobey, but deathly scared to. I took a deep breath and walked into the bookstore. The store was seemingly empty, having just opened a few minutes ago. I hoped the woman who now approached was not Tiara. She looked about my age, but extremely overweight. Asking for Tiara, I was relieved when she pointed to the back of the store. I found the door mark 'Manager' and knocked. "Come in," a voice bellowed.

The girl inside was outrageously beautiful. She had dark brown eyes, long wavy black hair with red streaks. Like Ms. Audree, she also had massive round breasts. She looked to be a bit older, maybe 19, but definitely too young to be Manager of a bookstore. I awkwardly asked, "Are you Tiara?"

She smiled with an air of confidence, "And you must be Annie?"

I was relieved she hadn't called me Annie-girl. Still I acted like a shy school girl waiting for a boy to ask her out with my simple "Yes."

"And what can I do for you?" she asked, her confident smirk telling me she already knew why I was there.

"Ms. Audree sent me." I sounded more resigned than I wanted.

"Why?" she asked, as she looked at me, ******* me to say what I needed her to do.

Utterly ********* as a woman, I whispered, "I need you to put cream on my vagina."

"Your what?" she asked, pretending to not hear me.

"My vagina," I repeated.

She laughed. "Don't you mean cunt?"

"Yes, my cunt," I stammered. I just wanted this nightmare to end.

"Well get out of that skirt, slut. I don't have all day," she instructed as if I was an inconvenience to her day.

I slipped off my skirt, not once looking at the beautiful black girl.

"No panties, thigh high stockings, shaved cunt, Audree really has you trained well," she said approvingly. I kept my head down and submissively waited instructions. She walked over to me and took the lotion from my hand. She whispered in my ear, "You are a very good slave, aren't you?" Her hot breath sending pleasure shivers through my entire body.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You get wet by just obeying orders, don't you?" she questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, my pussy getting excited, the answer a humiliating truth.

She squeezed my ass, "Do you need to come?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She walked back to her desk, grabbed a banana and handed it to me. My pussy knew what she intended it for. My brain did not. I just stared at it for some time, both disgusted and excited. Finally and without any further direction, I slid it into my vagina. I let out a moan of pleasure as I began fucking myself. I closed my eyes to avoid the *********** of seeing the black beauty watching me. I felt her hands on my ass as she returned to my ear. As I continued fucking myself, Tiara kept squeezing my ass while also biting, nibbling and licking my ear. Then she called me names.

I was too wrapped up with my banana-fucking to remember all she called me, but I do recall bits and pieces. She called me a lesbian slut, Audree's property and a fruit fucker. What I have committed to memory was her soft touch on my ass and the way she fucked my ear with her tongue and teeth. Standing up made it harder to come, but between the long curved fruit, Tiara's lips and hands, and her nasty verbal ***** of me, I came like a nasty slut. My legs buckled out of weakness and Tiara had to catch me from tumbling. As I silently shook, Tiara held me tightly while continuing the verbal degrading. "Fuck, you are a whore, fucking yourself in front of a stranger with a banana. Who does that?" My orgasmic bliss instantly changed to sheer shame from her harsh, but true, words.

My words in response were outrageous as I ignored her question and instead thanked her for the orgasm. She let out a harsh laugh. Then she let me go and demanded I sit on her couch, legs spread, the banana still in me. She knelt down between my legs and looked at my just fucked pussy with a banana sticking out of it. To my surprise, instead of taking the banana out, she began moving it in and out furiously. After a few quick hard thrusts, I got excited all over again. My moans got louder as she thrust the yellow fruit in and out of my dripping wet pussy. Just as I was getting close to my second orgasm in a few minutes, she pulled it out. I moaned, "Noooooo."

She spanked my naked pussy hard, "No more coming until you see your Mistress, slut." I instantly tried to focus on not coming, while Audree's friend coated my pussy with lotion. When she was done, she tossed me my skirt and suggested I get dressed. I quickly put my leather skirt back on, desperate to get out of her office and away from the stranger's condescending looks. Just as I was leaving she stopped me, "One last thing, dyke."

I looked into her blue eyes and waited for whatever else she had in store for me. She handed me the banana that had been my personal fuck-toy and ordered, "Would you please give this to Ms. Jones on your way back to the office."

Worry besieged me as I realized her intentions. I took the banana, but asked, like a ***** would if asked to clean up their toys, "Do I have to?"

She smirked, "What do you think, slut?"

Crushed past the point of return or recovery and wanting to tell her to fuck off, I chickened out, just like every other time, "I will obey, ma'am."

"Good girl," she cooed, and slapped me on the ass as she added, "Now get the hell out of here, slut."

I finally heard an order I liked and hightailed it out of her office and out of the store. I returned to my office building and walked over to Ms. Jones. I handed her the sticky fruit without a word.

She looked at it like it was toxic, "And what is this for?"

I ignored her question as I speedily left for the elevator. Upon returning to my office, I broke down in tears. Was there no end to the *********** I had to endure? After a lengthy cry, I cleaned myself up and got prepared for my 2 o'clock meeting. It was an important meeting and I had to get back into my business mindset. As soon as I started working, all my sexual needs and ***********s faded and I was able to stay on task all morning and through the meeting. I didn't once think about the fact that I was a few hours away from another spanking.

THE SECOND SPANKING

By the time I was finished with my meeting I was exhausted. It went well, but we were still early into the wooing process. I got back to my office at ten minutes to four and saw a banana on my desk. Beside it was a cucumber. Under the fruit and vegetable were two envelopes: a small white one and a big brown one. I sighed as I could only imagine what was going to happen next. As I sat down to read the letter, my pussy tingled with anticipation. I made sure to read the outside of the envelopes first and thankful that I did, as they were numbered one and two.

I opened the white envelope first and it was, as expected, a letter from Ms. Audree.

Dear Annie-girl,

I am very happy with my girl. You obeyed like a good girl should. Your training is going quite well, as you have controlled your outbursts quite well. That said, you raised your voice at Ms. Jones, and that just can't happen. You must be able to maintain a certain level of decorum at ALL times. I may be late, as I am meeting Tiara for cocktails. I have left you a story for you to read. It should get you nice and ready for your spanking. No matter how late I am, do not dare leave or I will triple your spanks. Unless of course, you want more spanks.



Ms. Audree

I didn't open the other envelope right away, determined to stay focused and work as long as I could. I did a pretty good job ignoring the brown envelope for over an hour, only glancing towards it every now and then. But they say curiosity killed the cat and in my case curiosity definitely roused the kitty.

I tore opened the large envelope and saw it was a story printed from a website called Literotica. The first story was called Lesbian MILF Seductress and as I read it I was in awe of the power the young girl had over a married ******. She slowly took the ****** from an upstanding citizen to an eager slut begging to please the 18-year-old in front of her own ********. As soon as I finished the story, my skirt hit the floor, and I frigged myself to an orgasm, I wondered why she would leave me this story. I wasn't a MILF; the MILF in this story was a librarian and I was a marketing manager; the young seductress was a student and Audree was my employee. As I chewed on this, still naked from the waist down, and still horny, I grabbed the cucumber and used it as a hard cock. Was her end goal to make me a lesbian? That was what happened in the story she left me.

I fucked myself with the vegetable as images of me sucking on Audree's massive breasts and me between her creamy chocolate legs flashed in my brain. I was pumping the cucumber in and out furiously when I heard Audree's voice break me from my erotic bliss, "Well, apparently you are excited about your spanking, Annie-girl."

I looked up, the cucumber deep in me, to see Audree and Tiara in my office. Audree walked over to the couch, as did Tiara, and they both sat down. She gave me a look that implied I knew what I was supposed to do. The problem was my cunt was soaking wet, my juices dripping out of me. "Ms. Audree, can I please go to the washroom and clean up first?"

"Why?" she asked, I assumed knowing the answer but wanting to hear me say it. Again showing the power she had over me.

"I am wet," I responded, ashamed.

"I see," she said, "Well I think if someone looks like a slut, and acts like a slut, then she probably is a slut, isn't she Tiara?"

Tiara hardly able to control herself, "That would be a logical assumption to make."

"Get your ass over here now, Annie-girl," Ms. Audree commanded.

I pulled the cucumber out of me, put it on my desk and shyly walked over to her and her friend. She noticed, "Your rash seems to be almost gone, Annie-girl."

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I agreed.

"Is that your cum, dripping down your leg?" she asked.

"Yes," I confirmed, mortified.

"Well I can't have your fuck juice dripping on me while you are punished, can I, Annie-girl?"

"No, Miss Audree," I responded.

"Take off your blouse, Annie-girl," Ms. Audree ordered.

Wanting to get this over with, I obeyed, my hands way less nervous than a week ago, even with a spectator. Ms. Audree took my blouse and used one sleeve to clean my pussy with it. She then put my blouse on top of her legs and patted her legs, as she would for a puppy she wanted on her lap. I continued to avoid eye contact with either, as I laid myself over Ms. Audree's lap; Tiara moved closer so my head was now on her leg as well. Ms. Audree explained. "Since you were a good girl overall, I am only going to punish you with one extra slap, for your outburst at Ms. Jones." As she explained the amount of spanks I was to receive, she caressed my ass gently; creating a striking contrast when her first slap made contact with my skin. Just like last time, I let out a loud yelp, surprised by the sudden contact. Also like last time, Ms. Audree reminded me I should try to control my noises. Unlike last time, the first ten slaps came hard and fast, almost like a machine gun. A searing pain encompassed my ass, not remotely fading away. Ms. Audree spoke to Tiara as if I was not there, "See how good she sits. She is such a good little girl. I think she actually likes the spanking."

Tiara purred, "Oh, I think you are right."

Suddenly, her hand contacted my ass and I let out a wail, as I was not ready for the slap. They continued talking throughout my next four slaps as if I was not there. Each slap came without warning and in no consistent pattern, leading to me making uncontrollable hyena like sounds. It was so much more embarrassing when they treated me as invisible.

Ms. Audree asked Tiara, "Do you want to do the honours of the last slap?"

"May I?" Tiara asked, her voice shrill with excitement, which, of course, had me in a bundle of nerves.

"Of course," Ms. Audree said, "She won't disobey you or any of my friends." My eyes went wide when I heard her say any of her friends, but didn't move an inch. "Turn around, Annie --girl, let Tiara get a good look at your white ass."

*********, I obeyed, turning around so my naked, red, ass was in complete vulnerable display for this girl I met just hours ago. She spent a few minutes rubbing my ass, allowing her finger to glide down the crack of my ass, lingering as if she had an ulterior motive for my asshole, before gliding further down. Instinctively, I opened my legs a bit to allow her access to my pussy, which I was hoping she would play with. I couldn't explain it, but I was on the brink of an orgasm without having my pussy touched.

I saw Ms. Audree leave for a second and return with the cucumber I had earlier used to please myself. She handed it to Tiara, who asked me, "Do you want to come, slut?"

I hated being called slut, but my need to come was more important than my dignity. I whimpered, "Yes, very badly."

"Well I will let you come, by fucking your white trash cunt with this cucumber, while I slap your ass until you come. All you have to do is ask," she informed me.

The offer was made to humiliate me even further, but I had already hit rock bottom in my mind, so even though I only had one more slap to endure, I asked for more, surprising even myself with my the vulgar words that flew out of my mouth, "Please fuck my whore cunt, treat me like your little plaything and spank me until I explode."

A spank shook my being and the pain was quickly contradicted by the deep thrust of the thick, long, green vegetable. Almost simultaneously I screamed in pain and then pleasure. Showing no mercy, she used one hand to constantly slap my ass, while she used the other to fuck my cunt. It took less than a minute for me to come like a whore on the lap of a stranger. It was humiliating, degrading and exhilarating. For being so completely controlled, I felt ironically free. I screamed like a banshee as my orgasm exploded through me. She kept spanking me and fucking me as I continued to have the pleasure trembles. I don't know how many spanks I ended up with, but as the orgasm finished its pleasure principle through me, the harsh burn returned. She stopped spanking me and pulled the cucumber out. I was allowed to stand up, and as I did, my whole body was a mixture of pain and pleasure.

I looked at Tiara briefly and saw her lick the cucumber. She smiled, "Not bad, for white trash cunt."

I should have been appalled at being called white trash, but the first thing that popped into my head was that she thought I tasted good.

As I stood there relatively naked still, both girls stood up. As they were about to leave, Ms. Audree added, "You can come as many times as you wish this weekend, my Annie-girl, but only with food. I will see you on Tuesday," and walked out without another word. I stood alone in a stupor, replaying her words, when she returned and added, "And you cannot use bananas or cucumbers. Nor can you use any food more than once." She left again, this time for good, as I continued to stand there incapable of movement, for at least a minute, my ass still on fire, before finally getting dressed. My blouse was quite wet with my juices, but I had to put it on as it was all I had. The train ride home could be interesting, I thought to myself.

I quickly got my stuff together and headed out; it was going to be a long weekend. I was driving up to go to a wedding in the morning. I shivered as I considered the four-hour drive on my battered ass. I sighed and headed for the train. As I waited for the train to arrive, anxiety filled me as I wondered what I would do if I saw the redheaded beauty from yesterday. Luckily, I did not encounter her on the train, nor any other of yesterday's witnesses of my sexual debauchery.

The night consisted of a long bubble bath, using my pussy rash cream on my ass and an early bedtime. I didn't toss and turn, not because I slept well, but rather because each movement I made sent a needle-like pain that resonated for minutes after I triggered it. I eventually did fade into *******, my mind considering what other foods could get me off.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

I packed a whole cooler of ice for the drive and ended up pulling over a couple of times to replace the bag of ice that had melted under my still flaming red ass. The soreness of my rear was driving me nuts, as was the order that I could only come with food. Two hours into the drive, I was horny as hell as I reminisced about the past week. I pulled into an old school gas station to fuel up and find some appropriate foods to get off on.

Did you know there is very little that is practical for use as a fuck-toy? The most logical choice is a pop bottle, but I wasn't sure if that counted as food. I was getting rather frustrated as I looked for something that would work. I grabbed a Pepsi thinking it would have to do, when I walked by the candy section. There I found a variety of potential objects I could use as toys. There were round plastic eggs with candy inside, long Tootsie rolls, and lollipops, among other things. I bought a few different potential toys I might have been able to use and headed back on the road.

As I was leaving, there was a farmer with a truck, selling vegetables. I pulled over and took a look. My heart beat faster when I saw his wide variety of potential love sticks. I bought some long carrots and corn on the cob, before getting back on the highway. As I drove, my pussy was desperate for some special attention. I kept glancing over at the bag of vegetables, the temptation continually getting harder and harder to resist. I was still an hour away when I could no longer take it. I grabbed a medium sized carrot, parted my legs enough to play with myself, and inserted the carrot with my left hand as I drove with my right. Desperate to get off, I thrust the carrot in and out speedily and was coming in only a couple of minutes. I swerved into the other lane when a jolt of joy electrified me, but I quickly recovered and pulled back into my lane before I killed myself or anyone else.

As I continued to drive, my desire to come satisfied, I thought to myself that I had just humiliated myself. I could have lied to her if she asked, which I was sure she would, but I obeyed her even from a distance. My obedience and desire to obey was really beginning to take control of my life. I drove the rest of the way, contemplating ways to break her hold on me, but came up empty handed.

I got to my hotel and changed into my wedding attire. The service wasn't till 4, with the supper to follow. I wore a blue dress, much more my comfortable conservative standard, and, my pussy finally feeling better, I wore panties and pantyhose.

It was great to see my old college friend. It is funny how the years fly by, but as soon as you are face to face with someone, it is like we were best friends just yesterday. The evening was a blast and I remembered what life was like before my current predicament started. I drank, I flirted with a hot cowboy, who was rather dumb and I thought maybe he could pass as a vegetable, but I ended up going back to my room alone. ***** and horny, I got undressed and without even thinking about it, grabbed a long, thick corn on the cob. I opened my legs wide and slid the bumpy vegetable in me. I gasped in pleasure as the odd texture of the corn rubbed inside me. Wanting this pleasure to last for as long as possible, I moved the corn-cock in and out of me, slowly. As I closed my eyes, the image that was in my mind was Audree between my legs and me begging her to lick my pussy. As I got closer to an orgasm, I did something I had never done to myself before. I began spanking my clit while I pumped the long, ribbed-like, vegetable in and out of my soaking wet cunt. That was the final push I needed and I screamed as an orgasm erupted out of me. The mixture of the intense orgasm and ******* led me to passing out, the corn on the cob still lodged deep in me.

I woke up in the middle of the night to go pee and was stunned to see the end of the cob in me. I pulled it out, shaking my head at my own depravity and went to the washroom.

When I woke up in the morning, my head was reeling. I rolled over and saw the corn. In a wave, last night flooded back to me. I sighed, disappointed in myself and my lack of self-control. I promised myself I would not touch myself again during the weekend.

And for once, I kept to my promise to myself. I went to the gift opening and visited and just had a good time. I refused the rare temptation my pussy offered me and made it home Monday afternoon having not betrayed myself. I did stop at the mall and bought some more thigh high stockings in some new colours. I also bought a couple of skirts and a sundress for easy spanking access on Friday.

The evening flew by as I checked e-mail, watched How I Met Your ******, the best show on TV, and had a bubble bath. I went to bed early, rather tired, and tossed and turned. As soon as I was in bed, the images I had been able to ignore the rest of the weekend popped back into my head. I tried to ignore them and the tingle in my kitty, but I finally succumbed to my own desperate desires and went to the kitchen. I cursed my lack of fuckable food. I had nothing I could use. I slammed the fridge door shut frustrated and went to bed. I tossed and turned for a few more minutes when a light bulb went off in my head. I rushed back to the fridge and found a pack of hotdogs. I pulled out a hotdog and put it under the tap to warm it up. When it was no longer cold, I returned to my bed hastily, pulled off my pyjamas, opened my legs and slipped the wiener in my fervered cunt. Although a bit limp, like my ex-husband quite frankly, and not as hard as the cucumber, carrot or corn on the cob, it was something. I was getting closer to orgasm when the hot dog broke in half. I cursed every swear word I knew as I struggled to get the broken half out of my cunt. After a brief struggle, I retrieved the broken wiener out of my vagina, rushed back to the fridge, grabbed two potential fuck sticks, repeated the thawing of them and returned to my bed. I fucked myself slower so the wiener would not go limp in me and although it took forever, to the point of frustration, I did come, although a rather lacklustre orgasm at best. I tossed the wieners on the floor and shook my head. What kind of deviant was I becoming?

THE QUESTIONNAIRE

I went back to work Tuesday in a new wardrobe. I wore a new skirt I bought, that had a generous slip on the side if at the right angle, and black pantyhose as the slip would reveal too much potentially. I also had a meeting with the CEO about the summer campaign.

I got to work, trepidation filling me as I wondered what Ms. Audree might have in store for me. There was nothing waiting for me, so I logged into my computer and saw an e-mail from Audree. It included my schedule for the day and the following note:

Dear Annie-girl,

I will be in after lunch, as I have research to do at the patent office. Attached is a questionnaire for you to answer. I expect you to answer each question honestly and completely. I will expect it completed when I meet with you at 4:30.



Ms. Audree

I clicked on the attachment and was not surprised to see it was a sex survey. I looked at the clock and thought I only had ten minutes before my meeting with the CEO. So I closed out of the attachment and prepared for my meeting.

The meeting went all morning and through lunch, which we ordered in, before finally finishing at two. I went to a quick meeting with marketing and another with accounting before returning to my office at 3:30.

I was mentally exhausted as I collapsed in my chair. I yawned and then saw a note on my desk.

Dear Annie-girl,

I hope you are having a good day. I am looking forward to hearing about your weekend and reading your answers to my questions. See you at 4:30.



Ms. Audree

The note reminded me of the task I had not yet completed and I logged back into my e-mail. I downloaded the attachment and began answering the questions.

1. When did you lose your virginity...age, to who , how, did you like it, etc...

I was in high school, 18, his name was Dennis, it was prom. How stereotypical can you get? I guess you could say it was okay, not thrilling by any stretch of the imagination. Although, I did feel a rush and yes I liked it, but didn't orgasm.

2. First time with a girl?

It was in college, just one time on a ******* night out, we kissed and fingered each other to an orgasm. I liked it, but never did it again.

3. First time anal? Did u like it...do you like it now?

Never did anal till I bought a butt plug a couple of years ago at the request of an online Domme I met and have occasionally used my vibe to fuck my ass. It hurt a lot more than I ever thought it would, never have really ever got used to it. So I wouldn't say I am a lover of it; haven't done it in a long time.

4. What was your sex life like with your husband?

It was enjoyable, mostly missionary style love making, sometimes I would take it doggy style, and a few times on top, but after I was becoming more of a success, I felt like our love life went downhill, making me feel like less of a success, so it drove me to work even harder.

5. What toys do you currently enjoy?

The ones I have are a vibe and a dildo; the vibe is blue, my favourite colour, and the dildo is black about 7" long. I have a butt plug. I don't enjoy much and haven't used in a long while.

6. Craziest three sexual activities?

Not sure I have any, other than what you have ordered me to do these past two weeks.

7. 3 Craziest places you have had sex?

What is crazy, in the back seat of a car? In a room full of people hoping one doesn't get caught, now that might be one. That would be about it for me, sorry. The living room floor? And the shower but does that even count?

I finished the survey and considered that there was nothing overly incriminating in my answers. I did some simple paper work waiting for Audree to arrive. Like clockwork, she arrived at 4:30 and sauntered in like she owned the place, carrying, oddly, a cooler. She walked to my desk, without any pleasantries, her hand extended, "The survey, please, Annie-girl."

I handed her a folder with my answers in it and watched as she read it. She shook her head and chuckled mildly as she perused it. Finally she asked, "Is this all true?"

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I replied.

"Well, then you have had one sorry sex life. You need me even more than I thought," she said, shaking her head, seemingly embarrassed for me. That was even worse then everything else, her feeling sorry for me. "You had an online Mistress?"

"Yes, Ms. Audree, for a while, just a way to deal with my repressed sexual desires a couple of years ago. I was really lonely and well, it made me feel needed," I said, embarrassed at how stupid my answer sounded.

"Well, now you have a real life Mistress," she shrugged, and then asked, "So did you come this weekend?"

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I admitted.

"Did you obey your orders, Annie-girl?"

I replayed my weekend for her including the carrot, corn on the cob and the hot dog that I had used. I also said I considered using a bottle but was unsure if that would be disobeying my instructions.

This made her smile, "Good girl, Annie-girl. You have made Ms. Audree very happy." She walked to the door and locked it. She returned and said, "Let's take a look at your cunt, Annie-girl. Let's make sure it has healed properly." She pulled me out of my chair and took my spot. I stood and took off my skirt.

"Pantyhose," she said, disapprovingly, "I don't ever want to see you in these again. Unless they are crotchless."

"But the skirt's slip goes up so high, Ms. Audree, that people would see," I explained.

"So," she shrugged, as she opened my drawer and pulled out some scissors and cut a hole for access to my cunt. When the hole was wide enough, she looked at me, still annoyed and questioned, "And why, Annie-girl, are you wearing panties?"

"Um-I-don't," I stammered, unsure how to answer the question. I finally finished a coherent sentence as I justified, "I thought that since my vagina, I mean cunt, was healed, I didn't need to leave it open anymore."

She looked at me, irritated, "It is not your job to think, Annie-girl, That is my job, to think for you, do you understand?"

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I whispered, scared of being disciplined.

"Good. Now I expect you to wear either stockings with garter or thigh high stockings and your cunt, which I own, should never be covered with underwear, except during your period." She grabbed the scissors again and cut them completely and pulled them out and tossed them in my drawer.

"Are you horny, Annie-girl?" she asked, in a gentle voice a ****** may use to ask her ******** if she wanted a bedtime story.

My wet pussy was a sheer giveaway. I answered, "Yes, Ms. Audree."

"Sit on your desk and open your legs," she ordered. I obeyed and watched her reach for the cooler that she had put on the corner of my desk. My curiosity was answered as she opened it up and pulled out a Popsicle. She took off the wrapper and broke the Popsicle in two. She gave a seductive suck of the Popsicle before she looked at me with a devilish smile. I realized what she planned to do and watched as she ******** me with a red Popsicle. She slid the whole ice cold Popsicle in me and I let out a stunned gasp. The coldness inside numbed me instantly and yet the feeling of pleasure warmed me. She asked, "How does it feel, Annie-girl?"

"Good," I moaned.

A sudden slap on my clit had me apologizing "Sorry, Ms. Audree, it feels really good, Ms. Audree."

The frozen Popsicle melted inside me, my warm love canal an oven of lust. "Do you want me to fuck you with the Popsicle?" she teased, attempting to have me contribute to my ***********.

"Yes, Ms. Audree," I answered and added, hoping to please her, "Please fuck me, Ms. Audree."

Seemingly pleased with my **********, she began to pump the melting Popsicle in and out of me. My moaning increased as the odd sensation pleased me. The constant Popsicle fucking continued for a few minutes until my orgasm was released; the most intense I have ever felt, red cum flooding out of me. I couldn't catch my breath as the intensity of the orgasm continued to shudder inside me. Ms. Audree pulled out the Popsicle, which was almost all melted, and ordered, "Open your mouth, Annie-girl." I obeyed and sucked my sweet cum and the remainder of the Popsicle, nowhere near as humiliated as I should have been by such an obscene act.

Audree smiled as she reached for the other half of the Popsicle and surprised me by shoving it in my cunt. She stood up, pulled it back out and put it in her mouth. I watched in stunned silence as she purred, "Hmm, not bad," and left the office, leaving the door open. I quickly hopped down from my desk and grabbed my skirt. I quickly pulled it on me and collapsed on my chair exhausted, humiliated and, oddly, still horny.

I made my way home in a daze and realized when I was lying in bed at night, slightly horny again, I didn't know if the food rule was still in effect. Having used the last of the hot dogs last night, I pondered what else might fulfill the purpose. After a couple of minutes, I thought to myself, this is silly; I don't have to masturbate myself to ***** every night. I closed my eyes and although it took a while, I fell a*****.

Following orders, I didn't wear panties and I wore thigh high stockings, mocha coloured, with a long black skirt and white blouse. I arrived at my usual early time, wondering what possible *********** Audree might have for me. Just before 8, my secretary came in and said that Audree had called in sick. She had faxed a daily schedule for me. I read the fax and saw the heading, Annie-girl's schedule. I shook my head and told Rose, my older secretary, that it was an inside joke, which was somewhat true. Relieved to have a day without sexual tension, I went to work. The day was uneventful and effective, the way my life was before Audree had spanked me. As I took the train home, I couldn't believe the empty feeling I had. I was truly sad that Audree had not shown up at work today.

THE EGG

I headed to work and arrived at my old usual time, bright and early, before even my secretaries arrived. I sat at my desk and was surprised to see there was already a letter and a box waiting for me.

I opened the envelope and read her now becoming daily letter:

Dear Annie-girl,

You have a very, very busy day today. I will be in around eight to help assist you with the Atwood Presentation for this afternoon. To keep you focused on such a day, I have a special gift for you in the box. I expect you to keep it warm until I am ready to retrieve it from you.



Have a great day!!!



Ms. Audree

I read the letter three times wondering what could be in the box. Curious, I opened the box, and saw a small odd red cylinder. I looked at it confused, what could this possible be? It was rubbery and had a black loop on the end. I could not remotely conclude any purpose it could possibly have. Never mind why she wanted me to keep it warm. I shrugged and tried to consider how to keep it warm. Just as I was about to give up, I saw that there were instructions that went with it.

It was called the Trinity Red 10-Function Egg. I read the instructions and learned it was a toy that offered stimulation to your pussy. I looked at it and couldn't figure out how that was remotely possible. After a few seconds I finally realized what its purpose was and how I was suppose to keep it warm. I looked at it closer as I tried to figure out how to turn it on. I read the rest of the instructions and it was also waterproof and had a remote control, which I noticed was conveniently absent. I spent another five minutes attempting to fathom how such a thing could be enjoyable and how I would be able to walk with it in me. I finally decided to just obey and try it out before Audree showed up. It was a bit of a struggle, but I got the toy in my pussy. It did nothing for me, but also wasn't unpleasant. I stood up and walked around with it in me; it was a slight distraction, but not really a big deal. I sat back down and began working.

Ms. Audree came in as scheduled at eight, but just got to work, ignoring the fact that she had ordered me to put a toy in my pussy. After an hour of this, I asked, "Ms. Audree, can you please take out this thing from my pussy? I can't have it in me when our meeting starts."

She said nothing as she walked to her purse. She grabbed some red thing and suddenly felt an unexpected buzz in my pussy. I moaned out loud realizing she had a remote to the toy in my cunt. She asked, "How does that feel, Annie-girl?"

Disoriented by the buzzing, and the sensational feeling it was giving me, I stuttered, "Good."

"Good what?" she asked, her voice clearly annoyed by my neglect of addressing her formally.

"Good, Ms. Audree," I corrected, still greatly distracted.

"That toy will stay in you all day, Annie-girl," she informed me nonchalantly.

"No," I moaned, worried of the implications of her words.

"That is five more spanks, Annie-girl. Do you want to go for more?"

"No, Ms. Audree," I responded, not wanting to get any more spanks added to my punishment.

"That's what I like to hear, Annie-girl," she said, and patted my head.

*********** burned inside me while vibrations teased me. She pressed a button and the speed picked up. I moaned again and she pressed the button again and again until the vibrations in my pussy were shaking so fast, you could hear it working in me. "I'm going to come, Ms, Audree," I informed the 18-year-old, no longer able to control my body.

"Come for me, Annie-girl," Ms. Audree said, as an orgasm quivered through me. While my orgasm began to subside, I felt the toy quit vibrating. 'Thank God,' I thought to myself, 'I would never make it through the day if that thing was on in me.'

Ms. Audree got me focused and the next couple of hours we worked side-by-side, the toy in me, but not on. As lunch approached, she once again made a statement about who was in charge. "Annie-girl, I'm getting hungry. Go get me some lunch."

Until now, that had been her job. This was just another piece of the power puzzle she was taking. Instead of fighting her on it though, knowing fighting over it was futile, I asked, "What would you like, Ms. Audree?"

She smiled, knowing she had won again and gave me her order. As I was leaving, I felt the buzzing in me start again.

I looked back at her startled and she said, "So you know I'm near, my Annie-girl."

"Thank you, Ms. Audree," was the absurd words I said as I left my office to get food for my teenage assistant. I left and got lunch for both of us, getting hornier the whole time. Luckily, the vibration was on low and was more a teasing sensation than a pleasing sensation. A different security guard was on duty, which made me happy, one less awkward moment to potentially deal with. I returned with the food and Ms. Audree ate at my desk, while I ate on my loveseat; just one more example of her power play. The soft buzzing continued throughout lunch until Ms. Audree, without warning, turned it on high. The surprise change of acceleration inside me had me shaking and I began moaning like I was being fucked hard. Ms. Audree demanded, "Come for me, Annie-girl, come like the little slut you are."

I don't know why, but being called a slut only got me hornier and within seconds I was coming like the slut she said I was. She turned the toy down again and just as I was finally getting my breathing back under control, she turned it on high again. I fell back onto my couch and closed my legs tight, letting the toy in me give ultimate pleasure. The sensations were so intense and extremely pleasurable, that I was so desperate to come again, I lifted up my skirt and started playing with my clit, ignoring the fact that an 18-year-old was at my desk watching me. I let out a semi-loud scream and came a second time, even harder than the first. Suddenly the buzzing stopped and I collapsed on the couch, feeling sweaty and exhausted.

Ms. Audree said, "Annie-girl, we have to get going, our presentation is in an hour. You may want to get yourself a little more presentable. You look like a fucking porn star who just had multiple orgasms." She laughed and went back to work.

I obeyed and went to the washroom to freshen up. I looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognized myself. My hair was a mess, my mascara was running and my cheeks were flushed. I did indeed look like I had just been fucked. Plus, I could feel my juices dripping down my leg. I dried myself up as best as I could and washed my legs and pussy. I ended up spending five minutes making myself look presentable and professional, before returning to my office.

It was odd how quickly one can adjust to walking and working with a toy inside them. Eventually, I forgot it was in me. I made our presentation and it went well; Audree did twice turn on the toy, but turned it off just as quickly, clearly a solid reminder of who was really in charge, regardless of the outer appearance of the business men and women there. As soon as the meeting was done and the clients had all left, I felt the vibration begin again.

Audree said, "I am rather tired, I am going home, Annie-girl." She turned up the vibrations and tossed me the remote. As she walked out the door, she added, "The toy is yours, Annie-girl. Have fun. Tomorrow is a very special, special day."

I walked to my chair and sat at my desk. Oddly, I didn't turn down the speed of the toy, but instead lifted up my skirt and rubbed my clit as the toy thrilled me inside. I had one more orgasm from the strange toy and then pulled it out of my pussy. I tossed it in my purse and stayed at work for a couple of hours more before heading home.

THE THIRD FRIDAY; THE FIRST TASTE

Knowing and accepting that I would be getting spanked today, I wore the comfortable sundress I had bought the past weekend; a dress that also gave easy access for Ms. Audree when she was ready to do with me as she pleased. It was strange that in just two weeks, I had accepted such an absurd situation. I didn't like it, but felt helpless to stop it. My brain kept arguing that such extreme ********** was wrong, yet my body always seemed to overrule my logic.

Audree and I worked together as a team, without a remote sign of the power she held over me. The day dragged on, which gave me all kinds of time to think about my spanking this evening. I couldn't quite place it, but something about Audree was different today. She was bubbly like an 18-year-old girl should be, not remotely showing the dominant side she had showcased the past two weeks. Deep down I could tell something was up, I just couldn't trying to figure out what it could be.

As time wound down to 5 p.m., I was a lot more anxious for my spanking today, I couldn't believe it, but my body showed obvious signs of excitement for the upcoming ***********. My pussy was wet and begging for attention, but I refused to fan the flames of my desire. I just needed to get the spanking over with, so I could get to my weekend, a weekend I planned to spend at home doing absolutely nothing, but relax.

A little after 5, Ms. Audree entered my office and locked the door. She walked over to my loveseat and patted her stocking covered legs. She was dressed in a blue skirt, beige nylons, a pink shirt and a black vest. I approached her and without a single word, or a single protest, I lay across her knees. I could feel juice leaking out of my pussy as I lay over my 18-year-old black assistant. She lifted up my dress and still without one word being said she began to spank me. After about ten swats to each cheek, I was tearing up; at fifteen on each cheek I was crying, which is when it was supposed to end, but today she kept spanking me. Tears rained down my cheeks while she continued spanking me; my ass cheeks burning. During the last ten, punishment for an earlier moment of disobedience, incomprehensibly I started to feel even more aroused, and squeezed my legs together as tight as possible, to try to prevent Ms. Audree from becoming aware of my odd arousal. The last ten seemed to last forever as she would spank me and wait ten or twenty seconds, just long enough for me to begin to think she was done, and then add another. Even worse, I could not control my excitement and I started to leak onto Ms. Audree's leg. I felt ashamed and humiliated, getting spanked was degrading enough, but getting turned on by it was unsettling. When she finally finished, she still had not said one word. She continued to hold onto me with her one arm and started to rub my very red behind. Again, her touching me sent sparks to my pussy, and my legs spread on their own as more of my juices ran onto her leg. Her hand slid down between my ass cheeks and started to rub my outer lips, which made me let out a long low moan. She continued to stroke the fire between my legs, ever so slightly delving deeper into my pussy. I was being lifted to new heights from her gentle tender fingers, the same ones that were just spanking my ass a short time ago. I was completely losing all control as Ms. Audree's fingers were playing me like an instrument. Finally, Ms. Audree spoke, "Annie-girl, do you want me to stop or should I continue and finish what I started?"

Now here was the moment that I could have had stopped it all. I could have said 'please stop', but my head was spinning, her magical fingers having done a spell on me, and all I could think about was coming. So although I could hear my conscience screaming 'No ,no, no,', the words that came out of my mouth were the eager desperate words "Please don't stop, Ms. Audree."


"If I continue, Annie-girl," she paused for a moment before warning me, "things will be different between you and me." She slid two fingers into my gaping cunt, "These past two weeks have all been a test of sorts for you, Annie-girl; I have asked you to do things, crazy things, humiliating things and not once have you denied me. You have had your pussy waxed, you have quit wearing underwear, you only wear skirts to work now, you have fucked yourself with food, you have came like a slut for my friend Tiara and you allowed me to control your pussy with a vibrating egg. And, of course, you have allowed yourself to be spanked and punished. It is clear that you are submissive and like being told or ordered what to do, as proof you are lying across my knee, with your pussy dripping on my leg."

*********** was burning through me as she stopped talking for a bit to let me think about what she was implying. All of my focus at that time was on coming, although I had to admit that I hadn't had to think about much else other than the things she had me doing, at work or away from work. I couldn't deny her words. I knew deep down they were true. I had accepted all she had me do and felt a feeling of pride when I accomplished what she wanted me to do.

"So what is it going to be Annie-girl? Are you ready to give yourself to me completely or should we just end this right now? If you say no Annie-girl, I will never bug you again, you will return to your humdrum pathetic existence you had before we started this game. Or you can submit to me entirely, understanding that if you submit, I own you." She pulled her hand away from my hot pussy.

Immediately I was left wanting more, and I knew that the only way to cum was to submit to her. I threw away my pride and dignity and submitted, "Ms. Audree, I submit to you and will do as you wish."

As soon as I announced my ********** to her, she started to stroke me again, and I instantly could feel the most powerful orgasm building in me, and then just as my breathing was getting heavier, she stopped. I moaned, "Please don't stop."

She spanked my ass hard and slid me onto the floor. "Get naked, slut," she ordered, her voice harsh and powerful.

I hastily pulled the sundress over my head and tossed it on the floor. I unclasped my bra and tossed it aside too. I was now standing in front of my Mistress, wearing only thigh high stockings. She demanded, "On your knees, Annie-girl."

I quickly obeyed, dropping to the floor like a puppy. Ms. Audree stared at me the whole time as she unbuttoned, ever so slowly, her vest. Underneath she was actually wearing a rather seductive sexy shirt with spaghetti straps. She looked at me, her large mountains of flesh barely contained by the flimsy shirt. She asked in a seductive purr, "Do you want to see what big girl breasts look like, Annie-girl?"

My shame burned as I considered how this 18-year-old's breasts were so superior to my tiny little tits. I desperately wanted to see them, to touch them, to taste them. I answered like a shy little girl looking for approval, "Yes Ms. Audree, I desperately want to see your big girl breasts."

Her smile still shined, "You have been wanting to see these since the first time you saw me, haven't you Annie-girl? Don't think I didn't notice you checking them out when we first met."

The shame lingered on. She was right, I was jealous of her large breasts and my small ones. "Yes, Ms. Audree, I didn't know I wanted to see them when I first met you, but I do now."

"Oh, but I knew," she purred. She lifted her thin shirt over her head and revealed her massive breasts to me. They were even larger than I had imagined. At least a 'd' cup size with big black areolas and large nipples that looked so appetizingly beautiful. I desperately wanted to suck on them, even though I considered myself straight as an arrow just two weeks ago.

Ms. Audree pulled me up, grabbed my hands and brought them to her nipples and for the first time in my life I felt another woman's breasts. I was so scared because I wanted to please and not be a disappointment, as I often had been to my husband. Her nipples grew hard between my fingers, and I just looked at them in until Ms. Audree reached up with her right hand and grasped my hair, gently pulling my mouth to her right breast. I opened my mouth and sucked on her right nipple. I licked and nibbled, my hand gently squeezing her firm massive breast.

While I was completely enchanted by her massive breasts, she said, speaking in a soft low tone, "Mmmm, you love my breasts, don't you Annie-girl?" I moaned a submissive yes, which was not good enough for her. She raised her voice and scolded me, "Answer my questions like an intelligent woman and not a stupid fucking *****."

Fearing more of her wrath, I pleaded, "Sorry, Ms. Audree, I love your big breasts, they are so much bigger than my tiny inadequate little things."

"Yes, you do have pathetic little girl breasts, especially compared to my firm, large ones," she concurred, her voice back to her normal tone. "Aren't they the most beautiful breasts you ever saw, Annie-girl?"

"Yes, Ms. Audree, they are perfect," I obediently agreed, giving out a moan, my mouth full with her beautiful round black breasts.

The dirty talk and verbal self-adoration for her breasts continued as I continued to concentrate on her mounds of joy. "You love my big black real woman's breasts, not like your little girl breasts, don't you, Annie-girl?"

No longer caring about the insecurity of my tiny breasts, I answered with what I thought she wanted to hear, "Yes, Ms. Audree, I love your breasts. Your big black breasts are way more spectacular than my tiny white ones."

"It makes you want to worship these black superior breasts doesn't it, Annie-girl?" she asked, as she pulled her luscious breast away from me.

I looked at her disappointed. I answered, "Yes, Ms. Audree, I love your big black breasts."

"You want to be a white slut slave for your black Mistress, don't you Annie-girl?"

It was the first time I had considered the racial issue in such a derogatory way. But as I flashed back to Brenda, Tiara and Ms. Jones, it was clear that she was setting me up to be exactly that, a white slut for black women. I looked at her perplexed while I tried to formulate an answer. Finally, succumbing completely to my desire for her, "Yes, Ms. Audree, I want to be your white whore." I returned to worshipping her breasts.

After spending a few minutes pleasuring her big boobs, she leaned back into the loveseat, breaking contact with my lips, but still holding onto me by my hair. She pointed to a wet spot on her thigh and said mischievously, "I think you left a little something on my thigh here when I was spanking you, Annie-girl. Would you be so kind to clean it up?"

I looked at her thigh and realized it was my own juices, which had leaked onto her. I stood up to get her a towel or cloth from the bathroom, but she held me firmly and instructed, "No, no, no, Annie-girl, I want you to lick it up with your slut tongue!"

I had never even remotely considered the thought of tasting myself, and yet there I was, with no way out, unless I wanted it to end right then, but the feelings that were stirring inside of me, were far more powerful than any weak resistance my mind could offer. I knew I had to do it. As I lowered my head to her thigh, to lick my own cum off her, she moved her other leg wide so I could get a full view of her panties. They were white and had a large wet spot, and I could see her pussy lips' imprint almost staring me in the eye. As I licked my cum off her thigh, my eyes were glued to her covered pussy and the lingering scent that I was just starting to smell. As horrified as I was licking my own juices, my own body was betraying me as I had a burning desire to taste Ms. Audree.

She saw me staring between her legs and stated confidently, "I see there is something you like, isn't there, Annie-girl?"

Again I burned with embarrassment and was speechless, unable to utter a coherent thought.

She stood up, me still on my knees, and ordered, "Remove my skirt and panties, Annie-girl. It is time to give you what you really want." My fingers fumbled with her side zipper, but finally got it down and I lowered it to her ankles and she stepped out of it. I reached up for her panties, her pussy just inches from my face, and the sweet scent of her aroma filled my nostrils; a strong smell, but one that only filled me with more unbridled lust. As I slid her panties down, I paused briefly to get a good look at her pussy. I wanted to lean forward and taste it right then, but fought the urge and let the panties slide down her stocking clad legs. She stepped out of her underwear and reclined on the loveseat again. This time she sat so her pussy was just over the edge and spread her legs ludicrously wide. I stared at Ms. Audree's shaved pussy and was in awe of the sweet sexy diamond patch just above it. Ms. Audree smiled, thrilled with my **********, "You have never ever eaten pussy before have you, Annie-girl?"

"No, Ms. Audree," I answered, shaking my head.

"Oh I think you are really going to like it, Annie-girl," she said confidently as she pulled my head between her legs, leaving me just an inch or two from her glistening wet pussy. I looked at it obsessively and sniffed in the erotic scent of it. She was so wet, and although my mind was disgusted by the thought of what I was about to do, my body was getting extremely excited. I could feel my own pussy start to leak down my leg once again. Ms. Audree held me at bay, making me just sit on my knees, between her black legs, anticipating my duty.

She explained, "Now Annie-girl, a good white slut craves black pussy; a good white slave begs to eat black pussy."

She looked at me at expecting a response so I begged, both because she wanted to hear me beg and because I desperately wanted to do it, "Ms. Audree, can your white slut please pleasure your pussy?"

I couldn't believe I had called myself a slut, but the anticipation was killing me. I had one hand on her thigh and the other was between my legs touching myself.

She saw what I was doing and ordered, "Both hands on my thighs, Annie-girl, this is going to be one of your new rules. You can not touch yourself or make yourself cum without my permission, EVER, is that understood?"

I pondered the wording of one of the new rules, implying there would be many, but just nodded again, way past ***********.

She pulled me to her pussy lips and started directing me how to please her. I extended my tongue and she moved me around until she had my lips where she wanted them. At first the taste was odd and slightly gross, but it seemed to get sweeter and sweeter the longer I lapped at her pussy. I licked randomly at first, but became much more focused after hearing directions from Ms. Audree. Following her instructions, I moved slowly up and down her pussy lips, my tongue splitting her lips. Ms. Audree's breathing got heavier and she commanded I focus on her clit. I obeyed and concentrated on her big hard clit. Determined to get her to come, to be a good pussy eater, I focused even more. After a few minutes of constant licking and pressure, her legs squeezed my head and pulled me in deeper. I heard her scream and felt her juices spray over my face.

I assumed I was done, but quickly learned that was not the case, "Don't you dare stop, slut."

I resumed licking, attempting to retrieve all her juice that had exploded out of her. I began to enjoy the taste and began to savour her juices. As her moaning kept coming, I heard her order, "Finger me, slut." I followed her command and easily slid my finger into her soaking wet cunt. I went back to licking her clit as I began to pump my finger in and out. I began to feel powerful while between her legs as I was in control of her orgasm. It was the first feeling of power I had felt in a long time. It was exhilarating to know that her moans were because of me. Knowing she was close to an orgasm, I slipped a second finger inside of her cunt and pumped in and out of her as fast as I could. Her breathing got heavier and she began to get animated, "Finger fuck me, slave. Get your Mistress off. Make her come." I hooked my fingers inside of her pussy searching for her g-spot. It wasn't as easy to find as I thought it would be, but when I found it she screamed ****** ****** a few seconds later and came a second time. Her juices again flooding all over my face. I kept my fingers in her until she pushed me away.

She sat on the loveseat for another minute or two, letting the orgasm complete its journey through her body, while I sat on the floor. Finally she spoke, "Mmmmmmm, Annie-girl, that was awesome and to think this was your first time. You were like an old pro, Annie-girl. Maybe you are just a natural, a natural born cunt licker." I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, being a natural cunt licker wasn't one of the things on my bucket list. I was embarrassed by the statement, yet again oddly content that I had made her so happy.

"So is my Annie-girl still horny?" she asked.

"Yes," I whispered, still ashamed.

She had me back on my knees and legs spread a bit as she used her right foot to slide up my thigh and then to my wide open and vulnerable pussy. She felt my trail of wetness and I spread my legs open even more. Her stocking-clad foot touched my super wet pussy. She rubbed her silk stocking toes up and down my pussy, getting her foot very wet. After a minute of this, my breathing already showing my excitement, she brought her foot to my mouth, and her left foot moved to my pussy.


"Okay Annie-girl, please clean your slut juice from my stocking," she instructed, adding just one more layer to her many levels of ***********. I did as I was told and brought my hands up and held her foot and licked my juices off her nylon-covered foot. I tried to suck my juices out of the sheer silk. Again, just when I thought it couldn't get any more humiliating, I couldn't fall any lower, she found a new way.

She alternated each foot every so often over the next few minutes, each time I sucked my juice off her foot. I was on the edge of ecstasy as her foot playing between my legs teased me, and her toe occasionally slipped between my pussy lips; oddly the *********** of it all was turning my pussy into an inferno.

As I got closer to my much needed orgasm, I pleaded, "Ms. Audree, may I come please? I am getting so close, please?" I thought about just how low I had fallen in only two weeks; here I am in my office, my executive office, getting my pussy rubbed by a young girl's foot and I was begging her to give me permission to come on her foot. As absurd and ridiculous as it was, I couldn't stop it now, nor would I if I had the opportunity.


She moved her foot away from my cunt. "Who do you now belong to, Annie-girl?"

I didn't want to verbally admit it, but the fact was she had owned me for the past two weeks. So I admitted, "I belong to you, Ms. Audree."

Although she heard my **********, she repeated the question, returning her foot to my cunt, "Who owns you, Annie-girl?"


I repeated my answer, "You own me, Ms Audree."

We repeated this verbal charade a few more times before she changed the question. "Who is my white whore?"

"I am, Ms. Audree."

"Who loves black pussy?"

"I do, Ms. Audree," I moaned, as her foot parted my pussy lips.

I was getting so close to coming, I didn't think I could hang on any longer. I begged her to allow me to come, but she ignored my pleas.

"Are you ever going to disobey an order, Annie-girl?"

"No, Ms. Audree," I whimpered, as her toe poked into my pussy.

"Because you are my white trash whore, aren't you, Annie-girl?"

I would have agreed to almost anything to cum at this moment as I replied, "Yes, Ms. Audree, I am your white trash whore."

"Who's pussy is my foot playing with, Annie-girl?" she asked.

I sighed, annoyed by the barrage of questions, and desperate to come, "This is your pussy, Ms. Audree."

She was wearing me down, making me fall deeper and deeper into her web.


"Yes, Annie-girl, you are now mine! And if you do as you are told, you will get this pleasure over and over and get special attention like this from me; but if you do not do as you are told, I can take this away."

She removed her foot away from my pussy again. I begged desperately, "Yes, Ms Audree, I am yours and will be a good little white girl and do as I am told. Please, please allow your slut slave to come. Please, Ms. Audree!!!"

She moved her foot back to my pussy and said, "Come, Annie-girl." And just like that, as soon as I heard her glorious approval, I had the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced, a trend that seemed to be happening often; each orgasm becoming more intense than the one before it. I grabbed her foot and fucked myself with it like a raving whore and rode the wave of my orgasm for all it was worth. A second, smaller orgasm triggered inside me and I continued to come on Ms. Audree's foot, like the white slut I apparently was.

I am not sure how long the orgasms lasted, but I was in another world, feeling like mind and body had separated. As I was slowly getting back to normal, as if I would ever be normal again, Ms. Audree presented her foot that had fucked me to two orgasms to my mouth. Her stocking was soaked and I knew what was expected of me. I cleaned her foot soaked with my cum with my tongue.

As I cleaned her foot, I had time to think about what had just happened, feeling humiliated again, my conscience back, I reflected on my downfall. How had I allowed myself to come like that on my assistant's foot? What had I become?

As I was lost in my thoughts of what I was becoming, Ms. Audree pushed me away with her other foot, almost knocking me over. She stood up and began to get dressed and commanded me to go clean myself up in my bathroom. I rose to get up and go to the bathroom, but Ms. Audree pushed me back onto my knees and explained, "No, no, no, crawl, Annie-girl." I stayed on my numb knees and crawled, like a dog, to my bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, I went to the shower. It was one of the perks of being a partner, having a bathroom in my office. I looked at my face in the mirror and saw my makeup was smeared and covered in Ms. Audree's pussy juice. As I licked my lips, I tasted myself on my lips and in my mouth. My face burned with shame. It was one thing to do what I did, but now to see the remnants on my face was a totally new level of ***********. I broke down and cried hard. My tears flew out of me for a few minutes as I showered and washed away all my and her cum. But what I couldn't wash away was my shame that now overwhelmed me. I stood in the shower for at least fifteen minutes before stepping out of the shower and drying myself off. Once finished, I realized my clothes were out in the office. My resolve was now slightly back, and feeling stronger and confident, I decided I was going to tell Ms. Audree that this was going to end now. I stepped out into my office and realized Ms. Audree was gone; I went to retrieve my clothes and I couldn't find them. Then I saw a note where my clothes should be. It read:

MY Annie-girl,

On the desk you will find the clothes and shoes you will wear home tonight. There are no panties or bra for you to wear and that is how I expect you to be the entire weekend, no matter where you go, you will not be wearing either. And when at home, you will be naked at all times; of course, except if you have company which I doubt you would have anyway. One last thing, you will wear the heels at all times. Have a great weekend!!

Ms. Audree

P.S. Don't you dare think about taking a cab home! You must take the train home tonight! Also, you must stand even if you are offered a seat.

P.S.S. Of course, keep the stockings on.

P.S.S.S. I also expect you to flash at least one pretty woman on the train.

I went to my desk and looked at the clothes she had left for me. I picked them up and sighed. The outfit she had laid out for me only consisted of a short skirt and a white blouse that looked to be at least two sizes too small for me. Lastly, the heels were black with an open toe and an ankle strap, and were an impossible to wear five inches high. I sat down in my chair, still naked, as I pondered how I was going to deal with this. I had no choice; I had no other clothes or shoes in my office.

I got dressed and looked into the mirror. Tears welled up inside me again as I realized I looked like a streetwalker. The skirt was a tight fit, but long enough that nothing would show if I didn't bend down, but not long enough to show the tops of my thigh high stockings. My nipples was as hard as diamonds and clearly visible through the sheer see through white blouse. Lastly, the heels were clearly "fuck-me" heels, and a bitch to walk in. But what choice did I have?

I picked up my purse and my portfolio and scurried out of the office hoping no one would be around. Thank God it was Friday. I used my portfolio to cover my breasts and nard nipples as best I could, hoping it would limit my potential for ***********. The train station was only two blocks away, but my feet were already hurting from the heels. I saw that the train was actually at the station and tried to walk faster to not miss it and instead tumbled and almost fell. I ended up missing the train and had to wait at least ten more minutes, alone and dressed like a Barbie fuck-toy. My feet were already aching and the pain began to move up my calves and thighs. By the time the next train arrived, the station was quite busy and many people were giving me peculiar looks. The boys and men drooled over me, while the women glared at me with obvious disgust.

I got on the train and went to a center post for balance, worried that I might tumble at any sudden movement. As the train started to move, I could feel the cold air on my thighs and wondered if anyone could see anything, My face burned with embarrassment; to avoid an even bigger ***********, I used my portfolio to cover up my breasts and my nipples that were threatening to poke through my paper-thin blouse. As the train rumbled along, I could feel every bump and felt a couple of rubs against my ass; nothing overly overt, but it was still embarrassing. Nearing my stop, I looked around and saw a young college student, dressed in athletic gear and a ponytail, with her headphones on and looking directly at me. A nervous smile crossed my face, one which she returned. Figuring it was now or never, as I felt the momentum of the train slowing down, I lifted my right leg up to the chair, which lifted my skirt up enough to give her a direct look at my shaved cunt. Her smile got slightly bigger. She looked at my cunt and then back up at me. As soon as the train reached my stop, I quickly got off the train. I looked back towards the cute co-ed. Not paying attention, distracted by the co-ed`s curious smirk, someone ran right into me. My portfolio went flying to the ground, my papers going everywhere. As I frantically tried to pick them up, I remembered how I was dressed. Anyone watching could get a good peak at my small cleavage and a great look at my cream white skin that showed between my thigh high stockings and my skirt. Finally all my papers were picked up and put back in the portfolio. The rest of the walk home was agonizing. My legs and feet were killing me so I had to go extra slow. What usually was a five minute walk took an excruciating fifteen walk.

When I arrived home, I stripped immediately and took a bath. The bath made my legs and feet feel so much better. After the long bath where I replayed my complete debauchery in my head, I got horny again and ended up having a long drawn out orgasm while in the tub. After my orgasm had subsided, I remembered I was not supposed to come anymore without her permission. I cursed myself for forgetting, I cursed her for such a stupid command and I cursed myself for caring about such a silly order. Finally I figured fuck it, like how would she know? So I lay in the tub for a few more minutes before deciding to get out. By the time I got out of the tub, I looked like a prune. It was almost 9 p.m., so I put my heels back on and headed to bed naked.

During the night I had a number of dreams all involving Ms. Audree; it seemed she was becoming a part of me. I couldn't even rid myself of her during my *****. Each time I woke up, I felt a damp spot on my bed and finally I was so horny again I couldn't *****; desperate to come so I could fall asleep, I took off my shoe and used the long heel to fuck myself to yet another slutty orgasm. Finally satisfied, I figured fuck it, I am not obeying orders while in my house and took off my other heel and fell a*****.

THE SLAVE CODE

I woke up and immediately ignored Audree's command and put on my robe and tossed the heels in the closet. I was done taking commands from her.

D-O-N-E...DONE.

I lounged around the house for a while, having breakfast, watching a re-run of Cheers, before finally going to my computer and checking my e-mail. I had a few work related e-mails and one from Audree that was titled: The Slave Code. I thought about not opening it and playing dumb on Monday when she asked me about it, but my curiosity got the better of me, like it often did.



Dear Annie-girl,

Below is the Slave Code. It is the rules you will now ALWAYS follow as my slut. Some you have already been following, while others will be new. Please read and save to your memory as I expect complete compliance to each of the codes. And, I hope Annie-girl, you have obeyed my order and not touched your slut cunt.

THE SLAVE CODE:

1. You will always call your Mistress Ms. Audree. This includes in front of clients, our co-workers and our boss.

2. You don't have a vagina, you have a cunt.

3. You don't have breasts, you have tits.

4. You will keep your CUNT shaved at all times.

5. You will only wear panties when you are on your period.

6. You will no longer wear a bra...ever. What is the point, anyway? It is not like you have grown up tits anyway.

7. You will wear thigh high stockings or garter & stockings every day

8. You will not wear slacks anymore.

9. You will wear heels of at least 3 inches to work every day, although Ms. Audree may insist on specific heels.

10. You may only orgasm after you have received proper permission from Ms. Audree.

11. You will always look Miss Audree in the eye when she is speaking to you.

12. You will always be ready for your Friday spanking.

13. Whenever you hear the command "Kneel" you will instantly drop to your knees.

14. You will never lie or keep anything from Ms. Audree.

15. You will never question anything Ms. Audree says.

16. You will say the following sentence after each spank. "Thank you, Ms. Audree, may I have another."

17. Your personal schedule must be approved by Ms. Audree.

18. Your cell phone will always be on so Ms. Audree can contact you at any given moment.

19. You will not think; slaves are like bimbos...their role is not to think, but to obey; you must accept that Ms. Audree knows what is best for you.

20. You will never disobey a direct order.



THE PUNISHMENT:

1. You start with 10 spanks.

2. Each disobedience increases your spank count.

a. Each time you don't acknowledge me properly is one additional spank.

b. Each time you do not look me in the eye when I speak or when you speak to me is one additional spank.

c. Having an orgasm without permission will add an additional 10 spanks to your total, for each forbidden orgasm.

d. Every other disobedience will have an additional punishment based on the severity as decided by Ms. Audree.

3. Any additional spanks can be done at any time Ms. Audree feels is prudent.



Ms. Audree

Unknown to my brain, my hand was playing with my pussy while I read the ludicrous expectations. I couldn't believe the audacity of Audree to even consider such extreme expectations out of me. She was my employee; I was her boss. Yet, as my brain contemplated the irrational expectations, my body warmed with excitement. It wasn't until I plunged two fingers into my pussy that my mind's judgement was clouded and my body took over. My pussy craving more, I reached for an empty coke bottle that sat beside my computer and shamelessly shoved it in my pussy. I pumped the wide bottle in and out of me, a sharp pain occasionally shooting through me, as my pussy attempted to stretch around the bottle. I kept up the assault of my cunt for a few minutes, until an orgasm exploded out of me. I let out a loud scream and kept fucking myself allowing the orgasm to last as long as humanly possible. As I attempted to give myself multiple orgasms, I heard the voice of Ms. Audree.

"What the fuck are you doing, slut?" Ms. Audree roared.

I jumped off my seat, the bottle slipping out of my pussy, startled by her voice, "What are you doing in my condo?"

"One," she said.

I looked at her confused, "How did you get in here?"

"Two," she said and explained matter-of-factly, "I copied your key a week ago. A better question is why you have disobeyed so many of my orders."

I looked at her, embarrassed and scared.

"You are supposed to be naked, you are not. Five. You are instructed to be in heels, you are not. Five. Lastly, you had an orgasm without getting permission from your Mistress. Ten." She walked up to me, her face flushed with anger as she asked, "Have you had any more orgasms without my permission, Annie-girl?"

Not wanting any more punishment, I lied, "No."

"One more," she said, shaking her head, "You really are a slow fucking learner."

I quickly corrected my error, "No, Ms. Audree."

"Are you lying to me?" she asked, looking at me directly in the eye.

I looked down, avoiding eye contact, and lied again, in a trembled whisper, "No, Ms. Audree."

"I don't believe you," she said, and added, "How many of my codes are you trying to break today? No eye contact, that is one more. At this rate my hand is going to be sore from all your punishment."

She grabbed my hand and led me to my bedroom. She walked over to my bed, leaned in to my sheets and sniffed them. "Smells like slut juice to me, Annie-girl."

Broken and afraid, I finally admitted the truth, "Ms. Audree, I am so sorry for lying to you. I had two more orgasms last night."

She walked over to me, "That is twenty more and ten extra for lying." She seemed to be doing the math in her head as she said after a moment of silence, "If my math is correct, you have already accumulated fifty-three spanks."

"I am so sorry, Ms. Audree," I pleaded.

"I am beginning to think you really like being spanked. Why else would you purposely disobey so many orders? Take off your robe, Annie-girl."

I obeyed, now standing completely naked, vulnerable and ashamed in my own home in front of this black girl. I watched her walk over to a duffle bag she had apparently brought with her. She pilfered through it before coming back to me with some strange silver things. She looked me in the eye with a clear don't-you-dare-fuck-with-me look as she commanded, "Don't move."

I stood completely still as she grabbed my breasts. She purred, her voice dramatically shifting from angry to gentle, "Annie-girl, your nipples are rock hard. Did reading my codes get you horny?"

Sadly, the answer was obviously yes, and I admitted, "Yes, Ms. Audree, they did."

"And yet, you disobeyed so many of them. Strange," she responded intrigued. "Don't move or flinch or this will hurt way more, Annie-girl." I looked at her nervously as she moved the silver chain towards my breasts. I saw the clamp at the end and let out a gasp even before it reached me. My body did an involuntary flinch and Ms. Audree added one more to my total. I closed my eyes, bit my lip and waited. The pinch on my nipples was intense at first and eventually just became a consistent numbing sensation. Ms. Audree did the same thing to my other breast. When I opened my eyes, she had a camera in her hand, "Say cheese."

I reactively covered up my breasts and vagina. Her rage came back, "Do you want ten more? Did I say you could fucking move? Now stand still."

"Please, Ms. Audree, I will do anything. Please don't take pictures," I grovelled.

Ms. Audree's mischievous smile was back as she took the first picture. "Shut up. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Now stand still, Annie-girl."

Petrified, I dropped my hands to my side and sat helplessly as she took photos of me.

"Actually, Annie-girl, we are going to take a whole bunch of pictures. Grab your fuck bottle."

I looked at her with pleading eyes and when I got no sympathy I quickly left the room and retrieved the bottle. When I returned a moment later, Ms. Audree instructed, "Sit back down and fuck yourself, slut."

I reluctantly sat back down, opened my legs and re-inserted the bottle into my still very damp cunt. I felt flash after flash, my *********** boiling, until Ms. Audree ordered, "Now go get on some thigh highs and your heels and return to me." I obeyed and went to the closet and pulled on a pair of black thigh highs and slipped into my God-awful five-inch heels. I buckled them up and wobbled back to Ms. Audree. As soon as I entered the room, she began taking pictures of me. "On your knees, Annie-girl, crawl to your Mistress," Ms. Audree ordered. I instantly fell to my knees, and crawled over to her like a puppy. She took picture after picture of me in my complete **********. When she was happy she had taken enough photos, she had me follow her to my living room; of course, still on all fours.

She opened my curtains to let in the light. She looked out the window and said, reflectively, "You have a great view. I bet you can see into other's rooms and they into yours. Now crawl to me, Annie-girl."

I crawled to her feet, again like a puppy would do. She pulled me up and commanded, "Now press your baby tits against the window."

Mortified, I looked at her and protested, "Please, Ms. Audree, not that."

She let out a dramatic sigh. "Annie-girl, do we really have to go through with the charade? If I have to ask you again, I will double your spank count."

I didn't dare call her bluff and turned to my window and leaned into it. The window was colder than I could have imagined, numbing my nipples instantly. I looked out the window and to all the other windows. I realized many people could potential see my nakedness. Ms. Audree queried, "Are you ready for your punishment, Annie-girl?"