Secretary Chapter 1 of 6+ (MF, M+F, Hum, Exh,. D/S, BDSM, oral, anal, pun,) Disclaimer: This is an adult story, if you are under the legal age in your jurisdiction, then delete and return to a non-adult site. If strong sexual content is offensive to you, please stop and look elsewhere. This material is a work of fiction, and depicts sexual situations that are fantasy, and as they say of TV were "performed by trained professions" with smoke and mirrors, special lighting and photographic trickery. Do not try this at home, or anywhere else. All persons, places in it are imaginary and with little resemblance to real or historic characters. If you cannot separate fantasy, from reality, please seek help from professional and your family. Be aware that possession of this text might be illegal if you are too young, too old or if there are seriously weird decency laws where you live. (borrowed lines) This is a personal work of the author, and as such may not be reprinted or reposted, without the express written consent of the author. Single copies, for personal use, kept for not more than 1 year, and not redistributed, are exempt as long as they are protected from discovery by minors, other more uptright members of society, or anyone who may find be offended. The author is not a professional writer, English major, minor, or exceller. Please accept the story as is. I welcome any comments regarding your enjoyment, suggested improvements or notice of serious discrepancies at sam4fun49 yahoo com (@ ) Anyone who knows of executive employment opportunities where sexual harassment policies and laws are non-existent, with willing employees, please e-mail marked urgent, in triplicate. (I'd hate to miss it)
Chapter 1
"Oh god.
Oh Shit.
Damn.
Damn". She said aloud. This was trouble, big trouble.
She had lobbied hard to get her niece hired, despite the freeze
on hiring. Now, she had been betrayed. "Shit!"
She couldn't hide it. As the executive secretary to the CEO, she
was too loyal, and too vulnerable to try to hide Amy's theft.
She knew that she would take as much heat as her niece. Not just
because she sponsored her, but because she would have to
convince them not to send her to jail.
Diane had been Mr. Young's secretary for over 17 years. Ever
since he joined the company, and she was a secretarial pool
standout, both in skills and looks. At twenty years old, 125
wpm, shorthand, and proficiency in the new Excel, Mr. Young had
chosen her to be his secretary. Her 37c-24-35 figure and golden
hair, made a nice impression on Mr. Young's clients. He had made
it clear from the beginning that he expected her appearance to be
as important as that of the new multimillion dollar home office
complex. Almost immediately, she also learned that he expected
her to be a full service secretary.
She thought back to the first time Mr. Young had made know his
designs on her. She had been his secretary for nearly 3 months,
and she was helping make the department stand out. It had been a
hectic day. There was an important document that needed to go in
the mail today. Nevertheless, she had plans for lunch with some
of the other secretaries. Lunch ended up being long and she had
joined the other in a 'glass' of wine. Mr. Young noted her delayed
return, but said nothing. Soon, though he called her in to shorthand
some thoughts he had on another project in the company. After a few
sentences, he notices the smell of alcohol. He frowned, but again
said nothing. He completed his comments, and she typed them up and
buzzed the mail room to deliver them. Then she returned to the big
document.
It was after 4 pm when she finished the lengthy document. She
Collated it, and prepared the envelope, weighed and stamped it.
Then she delivered it to Mr. Young for his signature , and
returned to her office. She was packing up for the day, when Mr.
Young appeared in his office door.
"Miss Wilson, will you come in here please." His voice was
rather stern.
She closed the opened desk drawer and pushed her chair back. He
stepped aside as she entered the office. What he did next
surprised Diane. He locked the door! What, she couldn't
remember him ever locking the door. Knowing something was up,
she walked to the front of the desk and waited. Mr. Young walked
to his chair and sat down. He placed his elbows on the desk,
with his hands interlocked and forefinger raised around his mouth
in contemplation. He remained like this for several minutes.
Diane's tension was building. Was her long lunch going to get
her demoted back to the secretarial pool? Worse would he fire
her? Everyone stretched their lunch from time to time. Why was
she being singled out?
"Miss Wilson, do you like working for me?", he asked.
"Yes sir", she replied, "very much". "You're the best boss in
the company. Everyone knows that. In addition, I get to be in
on the latest, most important projects in the company. I love
it."
"Well Miss Wilson, until today I have been very pleased with your
work." he stated. "But today, you have made several serious
errors. These errors no only reflect poorly on you, but reflect
poorly on me as well. They wasted company funds, and
potentially, cost the company one of its largest accounts."
These mistakes were probably caused by, and magnified by your
drinking at lunch." "You were drinking at lunch, were you not
Miss Wilson"
"Ahhhhhh, Yeeessss Sir, I guess I was." answered Diane
He laughed. "You guess". Well, that was unfortunate, Miss
Wilson. It's going to cost you, because you made some very
serious errors." First, the memo you took to the plant manager,
contained numerous errors, misspellings, and you left out one
complete thought. I read over you shorthand notes, and it seems
your attention was drifting. I found one sentence that was the
start of one thought and the end of another. The plant manager
called me to clarify these ideas and sounded like he wouldn't
seriously consider my ideas. He complained that he found fifteen
misspelled words and 20 missing punctuation marks, in a two page
memo. I had to tell him, my regular secretary took ill at lunch,
and was not herself.
That in itself is bad enough. But the Musselman Report is where
you potentially created disaster. Starting with page 35, there
are numerous typos, missing punctuation, and sentences and
paragraphs intermixed, repeated, or omitted.. Had this gone
out, I'm sure that we would not have been able to convince them
of our competence. YOU EVEN ADDRESSED THE ENVELOPE TO THE
"MISSLEMAN BROS. AT OUR OWN ADDRESS.
"Oh my gosh, I'm terribly sorry!" Diane said, breaking into
tears. "Please let me fix it. Please don't fire me. I'll fix
it. I'll work all night if I have too. Just please don't fire
Me.", she begged.
"Yes, you will correct it. And it better not take all night!"
said Mr. Young. "But, I think some punishment is in order.
Don't you, Miss Wilson?"
"Well, umm." Diane stammered. "What do you mean Sir?"
"I think you should be spanked!"
"Wha............" "You mmmean like a childdd. Pppuuttt over
your kneeee and pppaddled."
"Precisely, Miss Wilson! You must learn from this Miss Wilson,
and to make the learning memorable, you will be spanked
severely."
"Bbbuttt I can lllearn, Sssir. I dddon'tt wwwant to beeee
ssssppankkedddddd"
"Would you rather I fire you, Miss Wilson. Or send you in
disgrace back to the secretarial pool, where you can type copy
for advertising drivel."
"NNNNOOOO. PLEASE! Please I would lose my apartment and car
without this job. And if I got sent to the pool, I never get a
opportunity like this again.
"So, we are at a crossroads then, Miss Wilson, are we not?" Mr.
Young tendered. Will it be the pool, or a little punishment and
continuation of you status?"
Diane shifted her weight from foot to foot. She just couldn't
imagine getting a spanking at her age. Especially, not here at
work and not from her boss. She couldn't. She just stood there,
with tears in her eyes.
"Well, Miss Wilson?" Mr. Young said softly.
She really had no choice. She wanted this job. She needed this
job. She wouldn't be able to stand the humiliation of going back
to the pool. No, no choice at all.
"Iii ggguessss I'lllll ttttake the ssspankinggggg, Sir.". Diane
said. "I just have to keep my job"
"I think you chose wisely. I would have hated to loose you.
When you don't drink, you are a very good secretary." said Mr.
Young. "Bring that straight chair to the center of the room." he
added, pointing to one near the wall. As she retrieved the
chair, he moved the two larger chairs in front of his desk, out
of the way.
Diane stood behind the chair, nervously. She was shaking just a
little. Mr. Young sat down in the straight chair, and patted his
knee. Diane circled him and laid herself over his knee, with her
feet firmly on the floor, but Mr. Young pulled her forward so the
bend of her hips was centered on his lap. Her feet now stretched
to reach the floor. He waited a full minute. Diane's tension
increased. She tried to control her shaking, but only managed to
minimize it.
Suddenly, she felt his hand lift the hem of her skirt. "What are
you doing Mr. Young?"
"Only a bare bottom spanking leaves a lasting impression, Miss
Wilson," her boss said.
"Oh no" breathed Diane. Her tears started up again. He was
going to bare her bottom.
Right here in his office. How humiliating. She was blushing
furiously. How could he. He was going to see her naked bottom.
"Ohhh godddddddd."
He lifted the skirt, moving it above her waist. He tucked it in.
He did the same with her slip. Then, he worked his fingers into
the waistband of her panty hose. He skimmed them down,
alternately tugging and pulling each leg down. He pushed her
shoes off and tugged the hose off her feet, dropping them both to
the floor. Diane dreaded what was to come next. He was going to
expose her. Strip her last feminine covering. It was as if he
was baring her sole. She was holding her breath. She felt her
fingers at the elastic. How could she just lie there? How could
she allow this to happen? She wanted to jump up and run
screaming from the room. But, she just lay there, shaking
slightly, tears welling from her eyes.
He pulled the panties down slowly, dragging his hands lightly
over her skin, with the garment. Diane shivered again. Down her
hips, they went, over her buttocks, down her thighs. All the
time, that light touch of his fingers on her skin. Down over her
knees, the fingers dallied, then, over her calves and ankles.
They were off. He held her panties in his hand, and looked at
her. She could feel his eye on the back of her head. She turned
to look at him. God, she felt he could see into her soul. She
felt so vulnerable. She could see him raise the panties, and
slip them into his shirt pocket. No. He couldn't do that. He'd
display them to his buddies, his trophy of her punishment. She
pictured him in a bar, twirling the panties on a finger. God.
Oh god. How humiliating.
"Are you ready to accept you punishment willingly, Miss Wilson?"
Mr. Young said.
She couldn't say it. She couldn't accept being bared for
punishment. She COULDN'T be spanked. NEVER.
"Yes Sir" she said.
He raised his hand and starred into her eyes. She wilted, unable
to hold his gaze. She turned her face back to the floor.
Smack! "Ohhhh", Diane wasn't prepared for this.
Smack! Diane's gave a sharp intake of breath.
Smack! Diane gritted her teeth
Smack! It hurt
Smack! A small cry escaped her lips.
Smack! Ouch!, her mind screamed
Smack! Another gasp
Smack! It burned
Smack! Her butt hurt
Whack! This was getting painful!
Smack! Oh my! Diane's brain screamed
Smack! Her bottom was on fire now
Smack! She had to stop this
Smack! Stop this NOW!
Smack! Her tears flowed freely.
Smack! The flames grew in her posterior.
Smack! Her legs kicked.
Smack! "Owwwww!" She moaned
Smack! She jerked
Smack! "Ouch" she cried
Smack! Her buttocks were the center of her world now!!
Smack! "NO!" Exploded from her lips
Smack! She thrashed.
Smack! "PLEASEEEEE"
Smack! Her Bottom throbbed
Smack! "NOOO MOREEE"
Smack! "STOP!"
Smack! "MERCY"
Smack! "PLEASE"
Smack! Her fanny blazed !!!
Smack! "DON"T"
Smack! "STOP"
Smack! "HELP ME"
Smack! "PLEASE"
Smack! "MR. YOUNG"
Smack! "STOP'
Smack! "PLEASE"
Smack! "IT HURTS
Smack! "MMMERCYYYY!"
Smack! Her ass was an inferno!!!!
Smack! "OOWWW!"
Smack! Tears poured from her eyes
Smack! "OUCHHHHH!
Smack! "IIIEEEEEEEE"
Smack! "AHHHHHH"
Smack! "EEEEEEEE"
Smack! Her nose was running
Smack! "OWWWWWWWWWWiiiiiiiiiiiii"
Smack! "IEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Smack! "OH GODDDDDDDDDDddddddddddddddddddddddd"!!!!!
Mr. Young stopped. His hand hurt. He looked at Diane's bottom.
It was entirely colored, mostly, a rich pink color. But the
center of each cheek was darker, maroon.
There were crimson streaks in places that looked like cracks on
an egg.
Diane was sobbing hysterically. Deep sobbing breaths as she
tried to get enough air into her body to keep up with her
pounding heart. The tears were mostly exhausted. Her sobs
sounded like a billows that's opening was plugged nearly shut.
"whzzzzzzz ...... ..... mmmzzzzz" She was a limp rag, draped
over his lap
He laid the back of his hand on her ass. Diane jumped as if he
had struck again. It was almost too hot to leave it there. It
was almost as hot as his palm. But his hand was cooling faster.
After a minute or two, he started to caress her bottom. He
lightly slid his hand in circles, expanding to cover all of her
buttocks. Diane would jerk occasionally, whether from
involuntary reaction, or tenderness, he wasn't sure.
He caressed her bottom for several minutes. Diane's sobbing
ceased, and she her breathing slowed. He expanded his caress to
her thighs. He moved to the insides and slowly worked his way up
to the vee of her sex. He brushed her vulva lightly, and Diane
gave something between a gasp and a sigh. He continued to caress
her bottom, thighs and occasionally brushing her sex. He
returned to her pussy more and more often, and a moan escaped
Diane's lips. He rested his other hand on her ass, and parted
her sex lips, working them lovingly. He reached farther, to her
clitoris. He brushed it lightly. Another moan. He continued to
caress her lips, opening her more, but his attack centered on her
clit.
She was moaning constantly now. His finger entered her, teasing
her entrance opened. He worked her pussy. Faster. Firmly. His
fingers dancing across her clit, rubbing her lips, twirling
around her opening. He could feel her need now. She wiggles her
hips in tiny circles. He let it build. Getting more demanding,
he put another finger at her opening. She was ready. He
withdrew the first finger. His pressure on her clitoris
increased. He hips were thrusting now. He jammed two fingers
into her opening, giving them a 90 degree twist as soon as they
reached bottom. He crooked them up and flicked her G-stop.
She started slamming her hips back onto his fingers, as her body
shook.
Diane came. Her entire body tensed and a cry escaped her lips.
She gripped his fingers tightly.
He caressed her lightly as she recovered from her orgasm. Even
his caress of her injured bottom only brought slight movement or
sound. She was spent. He continued to pet her for many
minutes.
Diane realized what she had done. How humiliating, to have had
an orgasm before a fully dressed man, AND THAT MAN WAS HER BOSS.
How could she. She had to get out of there. Flee. Run. It was
too much. She tried to push herself off his lap as she started
to cry tears of shame.
Mr. Young held the blonde down on his lap. "Rest my dear" he
said.
He continued to caress her wounded bottom. "When I release you,
you will go to your desk and bring me your hand lotion. You will
return to this position, while I apply it."
After a moment, Diane settled down. Mr. Young released her, and
helped her to her feet. He straightened her skirt. Diane
unlocked the door, the retrieved the lotion. Slowly, she
returned to his side, and gave him the lotion.
"Raise your skirts, and position yourself", he said. She did so.
"I'll only use a little so it won't stain you clothes"
He squirted some of the cream onto her behind. She flinched. It
was cold. Then he lightly spread the cream around. He worked it
over her entire fanny and even swiped over her uninjured thighs.
He rubbed until the lotion disappeared and his hands started to
feel friction again. He lifted Diane to her feet. He returned
the chair to the wall, but brought forth none to replace it.
Then he sat down at his desk.
"Well, Miss Wilson, I think you now realize that things will be
different from now on." Mr. Young began. "I will have some new
rules for you to follow in the future. But for now we shall
continue your punishment and restitution. Get you pad and a
stool from the break room."
Diane hurried out of the office and grabbed a stool from the
break room. It was a good three feet tall, made to reach the
countertop used for food preparation. When she returned to the
office, Mr. Young, indicated a spot straight in front of his
desk. She then returned for her pad, and stood waiting for his
instructions.
"We are going to recompose and prepare the memo first." he began.
"From now on you will only sit on a stool when taking dictation.
At the other times you will stand. Once you have received
dictation of the memo, you will have 30 minutes to type 5 perfect
copies of it. . Each individual error will be worth one stoke
for your next punishment. We'll give you a couple of days to
heal, unless your errors become a habit. For that privilege for
each memo that is not perfect you shall give me one article of
clothing. If none of them are perfect, well your ass prays that
doesn't happen.
After that is finished, you will, attired as is, retype pages
35-69 of the Musselman report. Each page will be correct in
every way. Last pickup at the downtown post office is at 11:00
pm. If the Musselman report is not there in time, further severe
punishment will result. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir", Diane answered. She tried to sit down gingerly on the
stool. She quickly jumped off it. Her damage bottom hurt. How
could she sit.
"One moment, Miss Wilson.", he injected. "When you sit upon the
stool you must place you bare behind on the seat. You will not
cross your legs. And up will keep your feet on rungs of the
stool"
Diane's mouth opened in retort, but the look on his face stopped
the words. Getting her skirt over the stool while getting her
butt high enough to sit, was going to be interesting. Basically,
she raised her skirt completely, (the front came up and bared her
pussy again) and hopped back onto the stool. She cringed. Her
bottom hurt. She shifted around trying to get comfortable, but
just couldn't. She started to get up again.
"To Fred Delmotte, Plant Manager", Mr. Young started his
dictation. Diane scrambled to open her pad and get the info
down. Fortunately, this part was obvious.
FD pm RY vps
Re: JC manf ln , she wrote.
Diane sat in discomfort as Mr. Young regurgitated the memo he had
given that afternoon. "OK.", he finished. Looking at the clock,
he said "you have 30 minutes, until 6:38 precisely."
Diane hopped off the stool and was almost out the door when he
called her back.
"Put on your shoes, pick up your hose, and return the stool to
the break room."
She slipped into her shoes grabbed her pantyhose, and picked up
the stool. She hurried to the break room, she hurried back to
her computer. She hadn't gotten it shut down thankfully. She
started the first memo. She knows she had to hurry, the memo was
only two pages, but two full pages.
He had calculated it carefully. 120wpm was 10 lines per minute.
50 lines per page were 5 minutes. Five minutes times five memo
was 25 minutes. The time to print, close and open the next would
take time. It would be very hard for her to finish on time..
Diane flew thru the first memo. Her bottom hurt terribly. By
the time she settled down enough to remember she had to be
accurate, it was done. She took a deep breath before she started
the next one. She was determined to complete them on time, and
she dreaded the cost of any errors. She tried to proof her work
as she went now. It slowed her down. Especially, when she made
a mistake and had to backup to fix it. Fortunately, she was very
focused and only saw a couple of errors.
She was to the fifth memo. She thought she was going to make it.
She sagged a little with relief. She was on it's closing, when
she heard him at the door.
"Times up" she heard him say. "You may print that as it is.
Bring them to my desk".
She brought him the printed memos. She handed them to him and
turned to look for the chair. Oh, I can't sit she remembered.
She took a step back, and stood before the desk.
Mr. Young took out a red pen and started to check the memos. The
first one had 5 typos, all reversed letters. The second one was
perfect. He would send that to Fred tomorrow.
The third one had a single error, a missed punctuation mark. The
forth only had one extra space error. He didn't even mark that.
The fifth memo was the one she hadn't completed. There were no
errors on the part completed. But there were 38 characters
missing if you included the missing spaces. (249 if you included
space to the end of line for missing lines, but that really
wasn't fair)
Diane watched as Mr. Young circled errors like a school master.
She was devastated. Only three out of five were the required
error free, and one of those wouldn't count because it wasn't
finished. How could she have done so poorly? She was going to
be spanked again, spanked a lot. Would she pay the price to put
the spanking off. She had to. Her butt still hurt too much.
And sitting was very uncomfortable.
"Well, it looks like you're in for some more spanks. Forty-five
more to be precise. We'll save those for Friday" "Now then
you ruined 3 memos. So you owe me 3 articles of clothing. Let's
see. Start with your bra. Get it off but don't remove your
blouse.
Diane was dumbfounded. Taking her bra off with her tight white
blouse still on would take a lot of twisting and turning. Then
she realized, once it was off, her thin blouse would hardly hide
her breasts at all. She reached behind her and managed to get
the clasp undone after several attempts. Her breast fell a
couple of millimeters; she was still quite firm, but liked a
little uplift to show them off. She was going to show them off
all right. She was doing a mental inventory, and realized where
she would end up. My God. Reaching up her sleeves for the
shoulder straps, she pulled them down, while trying not to
dislodge the loosely hanging bra. She pulled her arm out of the
second strap, and hesitated for a second. Then she continued,
slowly pulling the bra out. The cup on that side pulled up first
and her left breast follow for a second. Then it popped free and
jiggled to a stop. The other cup had more sideways pull and the
cup, followed by the side strap dragged across the nipple. That,
plus her humiliation, plus her imagined immediate future (as well
as her previous orgasm) made her nipples harden dramatically.
She laid the bra on the desk.
"We'll now", said Mr. Young. "What shall I own next?" He left
his chair and came around to lean on the front of his desk. He
had a very nice view of her nipples against the silk of her
blouse.
Diane was sure he would ask for her blouse next. Displaying the
orbs he was staring at. She had a thought, her shoes. There
were two of those. She lifted her foot and took one off. But
before she could hand it to him, he laughed
"No, I don't think footwear qualifies as clothes. Not clothes
you see." he said "They're not knitted or woven. Not spun or
ginned. And besides, you will need them when we go to the post
office. I wouldn't want you to step on a pebble, or a piece of
glass."
WHAT? She wasn't going to get her cloths back! She was going to
go to the post office in what she would have left! No way! He
couldn't be serious. She wouldn't have enough cloths left.
"I like that skirt." Mr. Young said, breaking her thoughts. "Let
me have that"
Diane was relieved. She knew it was only temporary, but she was
relieved. She reached back for the button. Releasing it, she
pulled the zip down as far as it went. Then she wiggled it to
and fro until past her hips. Once past, it fluttered to the
floor. She leaned down to pick it up. She was glad there was no
one behind her. Her half slip was much shorter, and one could
probably see thru it as well. She felt her breast sway just a
little, then sway again as she stood to hand the skirt to her
boss.
Mr. Young dropped the garment on the desk. His choices were
getting deliciously limited. Especially, since her panties were
already in his pocket. Her half slip, and her blouse. It was
tempting to take the slip, to expose her sex, to leave no
question about the future. But he wanted to see those fantastic
tits of hers. He had avoided starring at them for so long. Now
he was going to have a good look. And it wouldn't be the last.
He decided to make her choose. He knew she was too shy to bare
her privates. She would show him her chest, of her own free
will.
"Well, Miss Wilson", he inquired "Which article do you wish to
give me for your last penalty."
Diane had to ponder the question. She couldn't give him either.
Expose her breasts, No way, Bare her vagina, impossible. No,
neither! But neither was not be acceptable. He had given her a
choice. Obey these requests or be fired. So she had three
choices. Her answer had been obvious to her from the moment he
said pick one. She didn't know he knew it was obvious too.
She picked at the first button of her blouse. Slowly, it came
undone, then the next. Then another......She got the last button
loose. She took a deep breath, then, slowly pulled the lapels
back, off one shoulder, and then the other. Her breasts were
exposed now. But at least her arms hid them a little. But now
she pulled her arms out of each sleeve in turn. It was off. Her
precious breasts were on display. Mr. Young's eyes were boring
hole in the chest. Her cheeks burned.
They were magnificent. Especially, with the upper edges pink
from her blush. Just gorgeous, like he knew they were. He
feasted on them for two full minutes while Diane's blush receded
slightly. He stood and walked slowly around her, taking in all
angles. The slip showed the swell and crease of her derriere,
the material darker over the fleshiest (bruised) parts. The
silky material molded to her hips and thighs too. And the tight
muscles in her back were lovely. He circled again drinking in
her nearly nude body.
"Miss Wilson, hadn't you had better get to work.", he asked.
"And don't forget the proper posture." he added. "Your flesh and
the seat must meet."
"Yes sir.", Diane said. She turned and walked back to her desk.
She felt so naked. She pulled up the Musselman report, and
dumped the incorrect pages. She was nearly naked. Then she
pulled open her desk drawer and extracted the original un-typed
report. She felt like there hundreds of people staring at her
breasts. She started typing. Her skin of bottom itched from the
tweed of the seat. She tried to find a comfortable position.
She had to push her feelings away, and concentrate one the job at
hand. As she typed, she fell into her old rhythm, and her attire
concerns slipped from her consciousness. She was plugging way,
having done about ten pages, when here intercom line buzzed.
Crash.. Just like that her humiliation returned. She was nearly
naked. And that was HIM, the man who had spanked her. What
would he want? She picked up the phone.
"Yes sir." she answered.
"Miss Wilson, I'd like a cup of coffee, please", her boss said.
"Yes sir." She replied. She heard him hang up. She realized
she would have to go to the break room again to make and get the
coffee. It would be a further excursion of her near nudity. She
stood up, and headed off. She had just started the coffee pot,
when she had a thought. What about the custodial staff. Did
they work every night? What time did they start? When would
they get to this floor? My god, she would just die if they saw
her like this. She wished the coffee would hurry. She would
have to walk the open hallway back to her office. Once there she
would be able to hear them in the hall, and maybe find somewhere
to hide. She started shaking again. A watched pot never boils.
Why was the coffee taking so long.
Finally, it was finished. She poured a cup, and checking the
hallway first, then walked quickly back to the office. She
walked thru his doorway, and his eyes were already on her. He
had been waiting for her. Her breasts were bouncing lightly from
her hurried walk. Her blush returned yet again. Her
cardiovascular system was sure getting a workout. She reached
the coffee across the desk, almost spilling it when she thought
of the view he was getting.
"Very nice", he said. "You may return to your desk."
"Yes Mr. Young, Sir", she acknowledged.
With no further orders the secretary returned to her computer and
again engrossed her self in the Musselman report. She worked
steadily for nearly an hour. She was getting a little hungry.
But she had another problem. She had to use the restroom. It
was getting to be a pressing issue. But the restrooms were on
the far side of the building. Finally, she could wait no longer.
She had to go. Wait, his office had its own restroom. She was
saved. She walked into his office and up to his desk. He
watched her all the way.
"Sir, I have to use the restroom.", she told him. "May I use
your bathroom?".
She fidgeted. He could see her need was great. But he wanted to
watch her fidget. He wanted to see her body moving in that
intimate way. He looked thoughtful.
"I wouldn't think the ladies room was crowded.", he countered.
She shifted her feet again. Her thighs were pressed together.
Her jaw clenched. Her eyes were pleading.
"No sir." she answered. "But it's quite a walk and what about
the custodial staff" She raised up on her toes, suppressing the
desire to hold herself. Why was he tormenting her? She had to
go. Couldn't he see that?
He was mesmerized. She was almost dancing in front of him. She
stood pigeon toed, pressing her thighs tight. She fidgeted from
foot to foot, up on her toes, as if she could raise her bladder a
little above the level of the liquid filling it. Her breasts
were almost shivering and jiggled each time she shifted. He
absorbed every movement.
"Oh, go ahead and use mine", he relented. "though the custodial
staff doesn't reach this floor until after midnight, usually."
She got only two steps toward the door when he added. "Just
remember, you are not to close the door when you use my private
washroom."
What? Oh god, not another humiliation. He would listen? She
had no choice though. She'd waited too long. If she tried for
the Ladies room, she'd surely have an accident before she got
there.
She pulled the door open just enough to get in. but he stopped
her and told her to push it back to the doorstop. She rushed
inside. At least she didn't have to peal off panties and hose.
She saw that the bathroom was situated such that you had to be
directly opposite the door to see into it. At least he couldn't
see her from his desk. She sat and started immediately. She
knew he could hear her though. She was peeing so hard, and so
long. She was so ashamed. Her blush would be permanent after
tonight. She finished. Back to work.
She worked for another hour, before she finished. She ran it
thru the spell check twice, then, proof read it too. She only
found a couple errors. It was nearly ten o'clock. She took the
completed report to Mr. Young to proof.
"Done?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Well, as reward for finishing early, you may pull up one of the
arm chairs. Then you will masturbate while I check for errors."
Oh god. What else would he make her do? This was just too much.
She hadn't really exposed her vagina yet. Now, she would have
to display herself in an intimate way. It was embarrassing.
Yet, she found herself dragging a chair to the center of the
room. She sat down, and leaned back. But then she stalled. Mr.
Young was watching her. She looked into his eyes, and her blush
returned.
Almost, as if his will was moving her muscles, she lowered her
hands. Pulling her slip up, she spread her legs to give her
hands access. They lightly caressed her thighs as they headed up
to her pussy. He could see her cunt now, she was sure. Her
fingers touched her lips. She was wet. Surprise. She had been
under sexual attack for over 5 hours. She started stroking her
lips, spreading the moisture.
Mr. Young watched as his secretary stimulated herself. He knew
she couldn't stop now. Her fingers were dipping, caressing,
exploring. Her hips were starting to rotate, and she was moaning
softly. She held her eyes on his, even as he watched her body.
She reached up for her tits. Kneading them, and rubbing her
nipples. She was getting near an orgasm. He watched, waiting,
eyes locked on hers. It was time.
"Cum for me my dear" he said softly
'Yes, yes, your whore will cum for you.' Her mind screamed. She
exploded. Every muscle locked as her sex sent an overload of
signals to her brain. She was rigid for many long seconds, and
then she broke into a shuddering, thrusting single minded
organism. Finally, she slumped as if she was dead.
After a few minutes, she looked up. He was reading the report.
But he saw her movement.
"Just rest now" he said
She didn't even reach to adjust her slip. She just closed her
eyes.
He read thru the report. There were two words he wanted to
change, so he slipped out to her desk, and made the adjustment.
Then he sent the report to the printer. He returned to his desk.
When he did, he could see she was alert now. She straightened
up in her chair, pulling her slip down. Had she really done what
she'd just done? Oh god. Not again.
Mr. Young gave her a few minutes to gather her self. He watched
the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath. He could
watch that all night he told himself. But........
Miss Wilson," he called. "Stand up and come here by me."
Why would he want her behind her desk? Oh no. He was going to
make her do him. It was obvious. She had gotten hers, now....
She couldn't do that. She walked to his side. Her eye level
breasts were the target of his vision. He pushed his chair back
from the desk.
"Miss Wilson, it's time to start being a full service executive
assistant." he said. "I want you to get down on your knees"
She dropped to her knees. He unzipped his trousers and reached
inside. He pulled out his penis. Her eyes were locked on it.
She knew what came next but couldn't do it. Then she felt him
take her hand and guide it to his penis. It was warm. It
started to grow bigger around, and stick up farther from his
pants. His hand helped her lift it up a little. Suddenly she
felt his other hand on the back of her head. He was tugging her
gently forward. Closer, closer, until it touched her lips.
"Open.", he commanded. And when she did he pulled her farther
forward and added "Suck"
She wasn't very good. It must be her first blowjob. He used his
hand on her head to get her started. She just bobbed on the
first couple of inches, and didn't use her tongue at all. Yet he
came within a minute. All the stimulation from her initiation
had made him horny as hell. He hadn't stood a chance. His semen
blasted into her mouth.
He filled her mouth. She didn't know any better, so she just
swallowed. She hardly even tasted it, not that she disliked what
she did taste. She tried to pull back, but he was holding her
head. Almost idly her tongue started to lick at his meat. That
got his attention. He started caressing her hair instead of
holding her head. She could taste it now. Kind of salty, and
just a little bitter. Her tongue swirled the shrinking organ.
Presently, to slid out of her mouth.
He touched her cheek, and said "Thank you my dear, but we'll have
to give you more practice at that" He tucked his cock back in his
pants and stood up. "We had better get a move on or we'll miss
the post.
She remembered. Was he really going to make her go to the post
office like this? No, he couldn't do that. She'd get arrested
for indecent exposure. He wouldn't want that, would he? She
wasn't quite sure.
"Type up a new envelope for the Musselman Report. And try to get
it right this time." He nagged her a little.
She hurried to her desk. She could still feel his eye on her
butt as she went. She quickly put an envelope in her typewriter
and typed it out. She put the same postage on it she had used
earlier in the day. It was the same number of pages. She
returned to his office. (His eye watched each bounce of her
breasts) Then she reached for the pages on his desk, (bending
slightly, his eye feasting on the way her breast hung free). She
tucked the pages into the envelope, and licked the envelope
closed.
She straightened up before his desk. He knew this was the last
view he would have of her bare breast tonight. He wouldn't
subject her to possible arrest. He picked up the skirt and
blouse. Then he had one more brainstorm. He bit each of the
buttons off of her blouse. Then he took his stapler and stapled
a 3 inch dart into the inside back of the material.
"I will trade you that half slip for this blouse and skirt."
offered Mr. Young
She didn't have to think. Even altered as it was the blouse
would hide her breasts for the first time in hours. And the
skirt was much thicker and longer than the half slip she wore.
She skimmed off the half-slip, and placed it on the desk, not
even realizing that she was completely nude for the first time.
He handed her the blouse first. She slid her arms in and pulled
it around herself. It didn't reach, but she'd suspected that.
Besides, there were no buttons to hold it together. She looked
up. She realized her boss's eyes were trained on her sex. Well,
he'd seen it all now she thought. She waited while he drank in
the view. Finally, he handed her the skirt. She practically
ripped his arm off she grabbed it so quickly. She fastened it
around her waist. Knowing what he had in mind she tucked the
blouse into the waistband of the skirt. Her belly button was
plainly visible, as was a lot of her 'cleavage'. She would have
to be careful, or her breast would be in full view. But for the
first time in hours she could say she was dressed. Covered, more
or less.
Mr. Young picked up the report, and held his arm out for his
secretary. They walked out of the office and down the hall as if
on their way to the theater or a formal dinner. Diane almost
felt like she his princess. They waited for the elevator. It
arrived, and they entered. They rode in silence, to the lobby.
The elevator didn't go to ground. The spacious, masterpiece
lobby of the corporate headquarters, had to be admired by all.
So you had to take the stairs or escalator to the elevators on
the second level.
The doors opened. They stepped out into the lobby and walked to
the nearest stair way bypassing the escalator. Then she saw
them. Two custodians, buffing the floor, were chatting with the
security guard making his rounds. They were almost exactly at
the bottom of the open stairs. Walking down the stairs in heels
(hers were only 2 inches) was making her tits bounce like two
basketball. And having no panties on, she had no idea what they
could see, as her skirt flashed back and forth down each step.
Mr. Young wasn't stopping, so she couldn't either.
"Good evening gentleman", said Mr. Young about half way down. He
always greeted any employee even if he didn't know them. But now
it gave them an excuse to look, rather than steal furtive
glances. He continued a light mostly one sided conversation with
the men the rest of the way down. On sided, because the men were
concentrating on Diane more that the VP's words. Diane pulled
her shoulder back to keep her blouse tight, so nothing would pop
out. But this only forced her breast forward, and made images of
them in the cloth.
They walked to the single door, with the security guard following
behind. He would have to unlock it to let them out. She could
feel his eyes one her ass. Into the cool night air, Diane's
nipples hardened still more. The breeze up her skirt was a new
experience for her. Not thrilling, not stimulating, but she
definitely noticed it.
He led her to his car and unlocked the door. She'd never ridden
in a Mercedes. The seats were real leather.
"When you ride in here,", her employer started. "You will treat
as if it were your stool. Your flesh shall touch the seat, and
your feet flat on the floor."
She lifted her skirt and sat down, then swung her legs in. He
closed the door, then entered from his side. He put his hand on
her thigh, up high only a few inches from her sex.
"You're doing great my dear." He stated. "And you're absolutely
beautiful.
He drove to the post office, but passed right by it. He
continued about 200 yards then pulled to the curb. He got out,
then opened her door. He held out his hand for her.
Let's mail that letter." He said
He expected her to walk all the way back to the post office box,
with her blouse wide opened and the wind playing with her skirt.
She blushed at the thought, but exited the car. He turned and
headed of and she had to scurry to catch up. Her breast started
to bounce, and her skirt bunched between the thighs. The
bunching wasn't a bad once she caught up, but the pace he took,
kept her breasts in constant motion. There wasn't a lot of
traffic, but each car that approached, spotlighted her. She
wondered if they could see her blush. She burned clear down to
her breasts. Her tits felt like red neon signs, quivering to
catch your attention.
They reached the mailbox. They could have just pulled up and
rolled down the window. As she reached to open the box, a car
passed by. She was sure that it had a great profile view. At
least the walk back wouldn't be so bad. No. Wait. Don't, her
mind screamed. He was crossing the street. She would have to
endure the cars going the other way on the walk back.
He walked past the car, just far enough to make her think he
would prolong her agony. Then he pulled her across the street,
while a car approached to light their way. And to
get a good view of her as she bounced her way across the street.
They returned to the car. He touched her cheek.
"I guess that enough torment for tonight", Mr. Young, stated. He
started the car, then drove her home. When they arrived, he
walked her to the door. He had some instructions for her.
"I will pick you up at 7:15 am tomorrow." He told her. "Wear
your shortest skirt or dress, make sure you do your makeup
properly, and leave your pantyhose off." You won't have to
reveal yourself to anyone but me, but you should look very sexy
for my clients."
Diane walked up to her apartment. She was tired. She was also
relieved. And she was changed. She'd had two strong orgasms,
both in the presence of a fully clothed man. That man was her
boss. And she had sucked his cock. Even though she was
embarrassed, and ashamed, she wanted more. What was happening to
her................
**********************
Diane returned to the present. She had to go to Mr. Young with
the evidence of her niece's theft. Her niece was her
responsibility. Mr. Young was sure to extract a severe penalty,
probably, very severe. She'd have to wait till nearly 5 pm. She
knew she'd have trouble working after she told him.
She made it a point to pass thru the secretarial pool, any time
she left her desk. She's sent her niece an e-mail telling her
not to leave tonight, but to wait at her cubicle. She wanted to
talk to her. She made eye contact with her each time she
passed.. Her niece knew she knew. Her tension would build
throughout the day. Good. The bitch. Diane knew she would
suffer for her Amy's stupidity. She hoped Mr. Young would take
most of it out on her niece. She continued her
reminiscing........
The Secretary Chapter 2
It was Thanksgiving week. Diane had a couple of almost normal
days, except for her memories and anxiety. The project Mr. Young
had was due at the end of the month and he worked on it steadily.
At 5 pm Wednesday, he told her they would have to work Friday,
Saturday, and maybe Sunday, to complete the project. Then he
wished her a Happy Thanksgiving.
She had arrived on Friday at her regular time of 7:30am, but had
dressed in a casual jean skirt and broadcloth shirt. She had
even forgone makeup this morning. She started the coffee, so it
would be ready when he arrived, and started on some reports he
had given her late on Wednesday. Shortly he arrived in his usual
three piece suit. She poured a cup of coffee and followed him
into his private office, then started back to her desk.
"Miss Wilson come back here." he commanded in a voice he had
never used before. She stopped and turned back to stand before
his desk. The scowl on his face was uncharacteristic and scared
her just a little.
"Have I not made my dress code clear?" He continued, "That
ensemble is fit for a sports bar but is NOT proper attire for an
executive secretary.
"Err I guess, sir. But I thought with just the two....."
"You are to conduct your self properly any time you are
representing this company, period!" he said. "You cannot
represent it in those cloths." "We will have to take care of
this immediately. Of course this will add to your pending
punishment"
He put his suit coat back on, and headed around his desk. Come
along Miss Wilson."
He led her to the executive parking lot, and they entered his
Mercedes. He wasn't starting the car. Why? He was staring at
her, scowling again. Oh no. He did mean it. She would have to
put bare flesh against the seat. She had difficulty getting the
narrow denim skirt hiked up, most of her thighs were exposed.
She pulled her panties down. What had he said? Oh yes, to lower
them just past her knees and keep them there. She had to spread
her legs. She had to spread them quite wide, to hold the
panties. With the skirt bunched at her waist, she was barely
covered, and only because there was no view from the front. The
starter turned.
"Where are we going?" she asked. She was more than a little
concerned now.
"Your choice of attire is not adequate, so I shall have to choose
a new one for you."
He drove out to the suburbs, to the new Woodlawn Mall. He parked
well back from the main entrance, to protect his car, with her
door opposite the entrance. He got out quickly and circled to
her side. He opened the door, as she hastily pulled up her
panties.
I will not be seen with someone in such a frumpy state." he said.
And then he withdrew a small penknife from his pocket. "Hold
still! I won't hurt you." He drew the knife up to her neck and
then down between the lapels. When it reached the first button
he drew it out about an inch. The knife was so sharp the thread
holding the button was cut clean thru. He continued to the next
button and cut that free, then the next one too. He then
withdrew the knife and moved it down to her skirt. He placed it
halfway between the waist and the hem. He pushed it thru the
tough material, and snapped his wrist down. A perfectly centered
slit was made in the skirt.
"There" he said. "At least you look somewhat sexy." He took her
arm and started for the entrance. She felt self conscious as
she felt her legs kick the slit of the skirt open. As she walked
she saw some boys watching her. When she climbed the stairs to
the doors, her legs were kicking the slit open almost constantly.
They entered the mall and the he led her along until the reached
the Merle Norman Shoppe. He escorted Diane to one of the
consulting booths and helped her into the chair. A girl, about
her age, with a good amount of makeup on, asked Diane if she
could help her.
Before she could answer, Mr. Young gently squeezed her shoulder
and said "Yes. I would like you to show this young lady how to
display herself more prominently."
The girl looked up at him in a quickly. "Display?" Mr. Young gave
her a short nod and stepped back. I will return in 30 minutes
precisely. Make sure she learns to do it herself, and give her
all the supplies she will need. He laid a 20 dollar bill on the
counter, then turned and strolled out into the mall.
Diane listened and watched as the girl applied and explained the
makeup techniques that would be best for her skin and hair color.
As the girl worked Diane watched her face jump out in the
mirror. Foundation, blush, thick black mascara, eyeliner, eye
shadow, lipstick, liner and gloss were progressively added.
More heavy than she had ever done, but still not garishly. Diane
beautiful face became stunning, yet neither untouchable nor
whorish.
The girl, having sensed a major sale, was explaining all the
variations Diane could use, as she laid many packages of
cosmetics on the counter. Mr. Young returned and listened idly as
the cosmologist finish her narrative.
"Well I think that does it. Does she meet your approval?"
Mr. Young reached out and slowly twirled the chair around. Diane
was beautiful. The makeup was just enough past proper to be
suggestive. Mr. Young just smiled and nodded to the clerk. He
moved to the register and the clerk made several trips to the
counter to bring all the items over and ring them up. Mr. Young
paid for them then held the bag out. "Come along my Dear."
Diane turned back to the mirror for one last look. It was too
heavy for her taste, but she realized it was not for her to
choose. She lifted herself out of the chair and took the offered
arm. Things had changed. She knew things were different now.
And just that thought was changing her a little too.
Next stop was The Wild Pair shoe store. She had never seen shoe
like some of these. She always wore heels but these were well
beyond a height she'd ever worn. She felt herself led to a chair
near the front, facing the mall. She smoothed her skirt down and
tried to balance it so the slit fell evenly. It did. Fell into
the valley of her lower thighs. A girl asked if they needed
anything, but Mr. Young motioned to a young male salesman that
was second to arrive.
"We'll need some heels for her. Four inches at least, some
higher. Pumps and sandals, maybe a sexy pair of boots too."
The salesman kicked over the stool and picked up the sizing
template. He held her calf and removed her right shoe. He very
carefully measured her foot. Then he compared it with the inside
of her old shoe.
"Start with a black pump, but bring one in white and one in red
too." Said Mr. Young
The man disappeared into the back room and returned with some
boxes. He took out a pair of black pumps. But Diane had never
seen any like these. The toes were long and pointy, and the back
of heels was normal. But in between there was only the sole.
The salesman lifted her calf again, higher this time, and used
the shoe to pull her toes down, pointing them. He pushed the
shoe on and had to work the heel over her foot. Then he placed
her foot back on the floor. Oh my. Her knee and thigh raised
up a couple of inches. The clerk reached for the other shoe
without moving his eyes from the slit of her skirt. She was sure
he couldn't see her panties, but still blushed at the thought of
what he could see.
He raised the other foot, and applied the other shoe. He then
did the usual squeezing to test the fit. "Why don't you try
them?" He said holding out this hand to steady her.
She stood, and wobbled. Thank god for his hand she thought.. The
heels were very high, 4" at least, maybe 4 1/2". She'd never worn
anything over 3 inches. Well one pair in the back of her closet
was 3 but she only wore them once. She felt like she was in
ballet slippers. Her calves felt the increased stretch. She
gathered herself and took a few steps. This would take getting
used to. But she noticed several men passing by linger on her
legs as they past. She hurried back to her seat, then looked up
at Mr. Young. He nodded.
The salesman removed the shoes and took out a pair of white heels
just like the black ones. Mr. Young nodded and motioned back to
the box. They were place with the black ones. The salesman next
held up similar red pair.
"I'm sure they're ok, but keep those out." The box was placed
with the others and piled up in front of the next
chair. "Let's try some sandals next. Black and maybe white.
Something with tiny straps and an ankle strap.
The salesman left and returned with four more boxes. He opened
the first one. It contained a very tall very thin heel. There
was an angled 1/2" strap just behind the toes and a 1" wide "heel"
with a 1/4" strap that would buckle around the ankle. The clerk
cupped the fullest part of her calf this time as he lifted her
leg for the shoe. This time when he placed it back on the floor
her right knee lifted so high it was completely above the other
leg. The salesman definitely noticed the additional visible
skin. He slowly buckled the ankle strap, then raising his eyes
lifted the other leg, and without moving his eyes, placed the
other shoe one her left foot. Finally, he placed that too on
the floor, and buckled that strap.
"Try them out" she heard from beside her. The clerk held his
hand out again, but Diane gripped the opposite arm of the chair
for support. "Oh my!" she thought. Her calves actually hurt.
She could hardly stand. Slowly, she took a tiny step. This
would take getting used to. She took another step.
"Why don't you go out and try them on the tile", said Mr. Young.
What? Oh no. She couldn't walk that far in these shoes.
Besides, she could feel how they made her posture change. She
was arching her back, leaning back to compensate for the change
in her center of gravity. It was pushing her chest AND bottom
out.
She tried a few more tiny steps. She could feel the eyes on her.
Not just her legs now. She knew she was blushing profusely. She
took a deep breath, and slowly walked to the center of the mall
aisle. She turned around, and saw every male eye was on her.
She almost panicked, but she gathered herself and then strolled
back to the store. She stopped when she was just past Mr.
Young's chair. She turned slowly the long way around, and stared
into Mr. Young eyes.
"Do you like these, Sir?"
Returning her stare, he said, "very nice my dear." Then he
winked. She knew what he wanted. And she thought she wanted
too.
She sat down and the clerk removed the sandals. He placed them
with the pumps in the 'sold' pile.
The next pair was black. They were taller than the pumps but not
as extreme as the last pair. All they had was a cord that
zigzagged 4 times from toe to ankle and then back around the
ankle to tie at in the front. She paraded around the row of
chairs. She stopped to admire them in the little angled mirror.
These would look great with black stocking she mused.
The next box held a pair of white heels with just the toes
covered and 3 ankle straps about ?" of an inch apart. They were
attached to another strap from the back of the sole to the top
strap. They were again very high. Five inch heels she guessed
The last box was bigger than the others. When all the others
were piled together, the clerk opened the last one. In it was a
pair of white patent leather boots. The clerk pulled one out and
held it up. An involuntary breath escaped Diane's lips. They
would go up above her knee. And the heels were again at least
5".
Slide forward and pull your skirt up a bit.", said the clerk.
She did. He unzipped the boot and slid in her toes. Then he
worked the rest of her foot into the shoe part. He had her foot
pulled almost straight out as he drew the zipper up the inside of
her leg. His finger was sliding along the inside of the opening
to avoid snagging her stockings, and when he got above her knee,
she blushed again. He had parted her legs slightly for room to
work the zipper, and she could see where his eyes were. He
placed his hand just below and behind her knee, and slowly pushed
up on her leg as he bent her knee and push her foot back. The
sole didn't touch the floor until he had it in place and lowered
it to the carpet. Of course, the knee and thigh had risen up
again, and with the addition height, and spread, she knew his
view was enjoyable. He didn't rush for the other boot, but
finally picked it up and lifted her other leg. Once again, he
spread her leg slightly to reach the zipper, and then fiddled
with both zipper tabs to make sure they were all the way up and
then hooked the little tab holders so they wouldn't lower
themselves. He obviously enjoyed his work.
Diane stood up carefully, but she was getting the hang of
balancing correctly to compensate for the heels. The boots
actually came up under the hem of her skirt. The tops were only
visible thru the slit that had been cut in the denim. She took
her walk across the aisle of the mall, and even around the huge
planter in the middle. She walked back in front of Mr. Young.
He nodded and smiled. She smiled back.
The salesman removed the boots in a reverse order, not missing
any of the view of her inner thighs. At Mr. Young's order,
Diane put the red pumps on, and her 2 inch modest heels in their
box. The shoes were paid for, and all but the white pumps were
kept for delivery that afternoon.
It was time for some coffee. Her boss set up a rapid pace, which
caused the pumps to clack rapidly and loudly on the tile. They
screamed fox alert, to every male in that part of the mall. They
sat at one of the tables in front a cookie shop, and drank their
coffee. Mr. Young instructed Diane that she was to keep her
soles and heels on the floor at all times when sitting. He also
reminded her that when she walked to imagine a line on the floor
and try to place the center of each step on or over the line.
The whole time Diane could feel multiple eyes on her. It made
her nervous, and embarrassed. But it gave her a thrill too.
She also knew where they had to go next. She couldn't decide if
it thrilled her or scared her.
Frederick's was on the upper level and as she rode the escalator
she could feel more eyes on her. She wondered how they would do
this. The clerk came up and asked her what she was interested
in. Mr. Young answered for her, which raised an eyebrow just a
tad.
"We need some lingerie, some lacy bras, thongs, garters,
stockings, and a corset" her boss said. Even knowing why they
were there, she blushed. "Save the corset for last, start with
some bras and panties. What do you have in sheer and demi
styles?"
The clerk led them to the dressing rooms. Let's get some
measurements" she said pushing Diane inside and drawing the
curtain. She figured she would get a good commission and have a
little fun too "Take off your skirt and blouse." With a gulp,
Diane complied. The clerk used a tape measure, and wrote the
readings on a notepad as she measured.
When she had the measurement she picked up Diane skirt and blouse
and left the alcove.
Diane was shocked. She started to call after the clerk but heard
her talking to Mr. Young.
"So Sir" she said to him, "let look at some ideas. She led him
to a wall of drawers. She checked the columns, then, consulted
her notes. She opened a draw and removed a very light semi sheer
bra. At the nod from Mr. Young she opened the drawer to the
right. She removed a black bra similar to the white one. She
moved down a bunch of rows, check her notes and found a pair of
white tiny bikini panties. Then, a pair in black too.
"Let's try these", she said, leading him back to the changing
rooms. She pulled the curtain back giving Mr. Young a quick
glimpse of Diane in her cotton bra and panties.
She closed the curtain quickly, as if just realizing what she'd
done.
Black first I think" she told Diane handing her the underwear.
Obviously, she was going to stay while Diane changed. Diane
started to turn her back, but the clerk stopped her and shook her
head. Diane could feel the heat in her cheeks as she unsnapped
her bra. She dropped it on the bench. She reached for the black
bra but it was snapped away. The clerk pointed to her panties.
Diane burned as she slid the cotton off her hips and to the
floor. Before she could pick them up the clerk whisked them and
her own bra out underneath the curtain. Diane put her hand out
for the bra, but it took a few seconds for the clerk to give them
to her.
Diane put the bra on. It would give little support. If she ran
she would more than jiggle. She reached for the panties. They
were a little tight. She had to wiggle them back and forth to
get them into place. She turned to the mirror. They lingerie
was just barely see thru. You could see where her nipples and
pubic hair were, but you would have to be close and look hard.
She turned to see the back of the panties. Her cheeks weren't
fully covered; there was a peek at the bottom of each cheek.
The clerk checked the fit and pulled each breast up a bit to
increase the cleavage. She nodded. The fit was fine.
Next she held out the White set. Again, when Diane reached for
them, she pulled back and wagged her finger at Diane's undies.
Diane understood and removed the black set completely, before
being given the white ones. Once again the clerk nodded after
Diane checked her image in the mirror. Then the clerk pulled
back the curtain fully and exited the room. She did not recluse
the curtain
Mr. Young again had a good glimpse of Diane. The clerk told
Diane to turn slowly displaying the lingerie for Mr. Young, and
gave his approval. She then closed the curtain most of the way
and headed back to the drawers. She returned with more lingerie.
She showed them to Mr. Young and he approved. She reentered the
alcove, again pulling the curtain fully open entering and not
closing it completely. This time Mr. Young would have a tiny
view of the proceedings. Diane had learned. She took off all
the white lingerie. The clerk handed her another white set.
This one was very tiny and she could tell already quite sheer.
When she had them on she could she her nipples and even discern
her aureoles. The panties were worse. The side were strings,
and the back nearly so. What material there was, was
translucent. Her pubic hair was quite visible as was the crease
of her sex.
The next set was a black g-string and bra. The bra was just '
cloth straps attach to the cups. The cups have many darts making
them hold her breast up and out, but she knew they would not hold
them still with even the slightest movement. The final set was
white again. A somewhat sturdy bra, but it had no cups. Well it
did but they only covered 1/3 of the bottoms of Diane's breasts.
Her tits were fully displayed. The bra would not jiggle, her
breast would. The panties were bikini style but completely
sheer. The cotton so thin it reminded her of tissue paper. She
could never wear this except under a tracksuit or something
similar.
The clerk exited the alcove again, but this time before she
pulled the curtain closed, she turned and asked Diane if she was
too cold. Diane's hands flew to her privates and she realized
that her boss was standing there drinking in her body.
"Those should do" said Mr. Young. "Throw in a garter bell in
white and black and one set of red like this", as he held up the
semi sheer thong set. "Also six pairs each of suntan, and
black thigh high stocking, tall. Two each of sheer black seamed,
white, and red too."
"Then I guess it's time for the corset.", said the sales girl.
"Come this way. How tight do you want it."
"I'll want two, one to give her a great figure, and one 2-4"
smaller. They shouldn't cover the breasts, but a support for
them would be interesting. Removable straps, garters, and heavy
stays in the smaller one.
"I have just the models in mind', said the clerk. She pulled
several plastic wrapped corset off a rack. One was white satin
with a wide scoop neckline and wide set shoulders. It had semi
sheer matching high cut panties. "This one is a size small in
the bust to mound up the breast, increase cleavage and play
peek-a-boo with the nipples", the clerk told Mr. Young.
"This next one's designed to really cut the waist down, and widen
the hips and bust", narrated the clerk. It is strapless and will
just hide the nipple while mounding the breasts. Note the cloth
stays. Metal stays are available to insert into the pockets the
stay seams make. This would be a good choice for a punishment
corset. "
"This is a standard breast baring corset", she continued, holding
up a black number with very wide shoulder straps and an obvious
shelf to support the breast but not cover them. "This has heavy
seamed stays but they don't hold the metal additions. This one
is black, but I have white and red".
"I have others", she said, "but they have standard type bras"
Would you like to see them, or do you want me to try these."
"Let's just try these". "Save the breast baring one for last of
course" Mr. Young suggested
"Of course", repeated the sales girl.
They return to the changing room, chatting loudly, and stopping
to pick up a pair of stocking.. Diane could hear them coming so
placed her arm strategically. The clerk pulled the curtain fully
open, with Mr. Young right beside her, giving him a good look at
the cowering Diane. As she stepped inside, she pointed to the
dresses across the store. "pick out 3 that would look good over
the corset. Scoop necked. She's a size 5." As she pulled the
curtain closed, he headed over.
"Ok" she said to Diane. "It's time to change again.
Diane removed the demi bra and sheer panties. The clerk unlaced
the corset with the scoop neck. She held it out for Diane to
step into, and worked it up and over her hips. She had Diane
turn to the wall. Then the saleswomen started to lace up the
corset. The clerk turned her around and handed her the panties
and stocking. She put on the panties and then gingerly sat one
the chair. She rolled up the stocking, and tried to lean over to
her feet. "Ugh." That wasn't going to work. She crossed her
leg over her other knee and stretched enough to get the stocking
over her toes. Getting them all the way on was a chore. Bending
forced all the breath from her lungs. She was just starting on
her other leg, when she heard a light rap.
The Clerk pulled opened the curtain, but at least stayed in the
opening to partly conceal Diane. Mr. Young handed several
hangers to the clerk. She told him to go relax in the armchair
15 feet to the right of the changing rooms. She would send Diane
out for his approval.
Diane had the stockings on, and was looking at the first dress
that the clerk was holding. The clerk handed it to Diane, and
hung the rest on the hook. The dress was a black halter style
Mini-dress, with a fairly deep v-neck.. She pulled it on. It
came to mid thigh. Rarely, had Diane had a dress this short. It
wasn't that severe, but was still a new experience. The clerk
placed her red pumps in front of Diane, so she could step into
them. The she pulled back the curtain, and pulled Diane out of
the alcove.
The store was busier than it had been earlier. There were
several couples wondering around. The clerk turned Diane toward
Mr. Young and told her to walk as a model. Strut to the front of
Mr. Young then turn and pose to give him a look at all 4 sides.
The first few steps were difficult. Especially when the clerk
coughed, drawing all eyes in her direction. She stopped in front
of Mr. Young, waited, then, turned toward the front of the store
After a few seconds she turned to face the back. Then she turned
and started back for the changing room.
The clerk met her and told her to hold her poses longer and stand
legs akimbo or one forward of the other, like a model. Then she
pushed her into the alcove and drew the curtain.
"Try this one next" said the clerk, handing her another hanger.
It was a red wrap-around oriental print, with a large keyhole
opening in front. The hem did not hang very far from the hanger.
Diane put on the dress. It was very short. And the tops of her
breasts popped out of the keyhole. A huge cleavage showed thru
it. She hadn't noticed, but both sides were slit about 4". The
hem only reached the middle of her stockings tops. And she
hadn't moved yet.
"When you reach your boss lean back a little and push your hip
forward. When you turn thrust the hip toward him out.",
instructed the clerk
Diane, walked out of the changing room, as the clerk loudly
cleared her throat. All eye turned. Some lingered. She tried
to place each foot over the imaginary line. She knew that the
slits were flashing opened and closed as she walked. She leaned
back as she reached Mr. Young, and pushed her hips forward. She
could feel the hem rise in front, and she wondered if he could
see her panties. His eyes were almost on level with the hem.
She counted to 20 the turned to the right, and thrust her hip
toward him. '19, 20,' she did a 180 then pushed the other way.
'...19, 20'Turn and walk.
"Wait, I want you to stop so I can admire your rear view", said
her employer. She was facing several men, waiting on the women
in the changing rooms. '...19, 20'. She started walking back to
the changing booths. She could feel those eyes burning into her
legs. It had to be an awesome sight. She dove into her change
booth.
"Now, I want you to go back and untie the dress and open the
dress. You need to show him how the corset fits." commanded her
tormentor.
'Oh god' she thought. She walked back out and over to Mr. Young,
but she couldn't do it. She couldn't open the dress. Not in
front of him. Not with all these people around. Not with the
sheer panties. Not ....
The clerk had followed her, anticipating just such a reaction.
She deftly reached around Diane and pulled the string. The
dress opened. Diane blushed like she never had before. The clerk
pulled the sides apart, while Mr. Young leaned closer to examine
the corseted figure before him. The clerk pushed her shoulders
forward, giving her boss a long look down the valley of her
breasts.
Mr. Young sat back. "There is still at least 2 inches more this
can be tightened" the sales lady noted. Mr. Young nodded. "Ok,
let's go said the clerk. Diane only had time to pull the dress
back together, as the clerk grabbed her upper arm and guided her
back to the booth. She knew she was flashing her panties with
each step. Once in the changing room, the clerk pulled the dress
off, then untied the corset, and pulled that off too.
The clerk hung up the dress and corset, then, took down another
corset. She handed it to Diane. Diane wrapped it around
herself, and started to latch up the hook and eye front.
Finishing, she turned around and braced herself. The corset was
tight as soon as the clerk had taken up the laces, but as each
set of eyelets was tightened she felt like she couldn't get her
breath. The laces were tied off. Then she started over at the
bottom, drawing each row tighter. It became positively crushing.
Diane felt like a linebacker was lying on top of her. She was
panting to make up for the lack of volume of air she could take.
Her breasts were smashed as well, forcing the upper parts to
mound up like two muskmelons glued together.
The clerk finished, then handed Diane a white gauze sundress.
It had a peasant neckline, rather high waist, puffy short
sleeves, and was nearly sheer. It came to almost to her knees
with a 2" ruffle at the hem. But when Diane looked in the mirror
she could see right thru the dress. Her long legs were clearly
visible, as were her panties. The clerk reached into the
neckline and pulled more of her breast up and together. Then she
pulled the neckline down even with the top of the corset. She
adjusted the shoulders of the peasant down exposing as much skin
as possible.
Diane started her runway walk towards her boss. She could tell
he approved of the dress by the look in his eyes. They were
flipping from her exposed bust to her revealing skirt, and back.
The view was incredible. She stopped in front of him and paused
for a long moment. Then she turned about, and walked part way
back to the changing booth. She paused for a minute, then turned
and walked back. She completed the runway routine. Left, rear,
right, back to front, she stopped. His eyes told her he liked
this dress.
He called the clerk over, and told her they'd take everything.
Then he leaned to Diane's ear and said just loud enough for the
clerk to hear.
"Take off the panties, Miss Wilson."
She made a move for the changing room but he stopped her before
she even turned. He shook his head. She starred back at him
waiting to find out what else he wanted first. But he just sat
there.
Nooooooooooo. He wanted her to remove the panties right now.
Right here in front of him. In front of the clerk. In front of
all these people. Noooooo.
Her eyes pleaded with him. She couldn't do this. She was
paralyzed. She couldn't even run, though her brain screamed for
her to escape the store immediately. Oh God.
She watched as Mr. Young gave her a single nod of his head. He
may as well have shouted. She knew he wouldn't let her move from
that spot, without taking the panties off first. Tears welled up
in her eyes, as she reached for the hem. She'd have to lift it
some first, to get her hands under it. She reached upwards. She
was trembling...... She grabbed the elastic waist of the
underwear. Slowly, she lowered them. She could feel the eyes
upon her. Hear them moving to get a better view. Fortunately,
only her boss had a good view from the front.
She let the panties fall to the floor. She had to bend to
untangle them from her ankles. Bet that gave them a good view of
her ass. She picked up the panties and handed them to her boss.
Mr. Young rose from the chair. The clerk went to collect the
cloths from the changing room. She thought of the commission she
would make. It would be her record sale. Mr. Young led Diane
over to the register. She could feel every eye watching her.
She was glad to stand up to the counter. At least they could
only see her butt then.
The clerk rang up the items. Tossed the hand held scanner over
the counter, and walked around. The she pointed to Diane.
"I need to see the tags on those items."
Not again. The tag for the dress was on the inside at the
waist. And the clerk had tucked the tag for the corset deeply
between her breasts.
The clerk lifted the hem of the dress below the tag. She had to
raise it way up. Diane's entire hip was exposed to the world.
Diane felt the familiar heat in her cheeks and neck. The clerk
scanned the tag, nothing. She scanned it again. Nothing. The
clerk pulled the hem higher, to grab the tag. Diane knew one
whole buttock was exposed, and her pubic hair might even be
visible. Her upper chest was getting pink now too.
Tink. The scanner scored. But the clerk still held her dress
up. She leaned over the counter, unblocking the view of Diane,
and pickup a pair of scissors. She cut the tag off. How 'kind'.
She had just wanted to prolong Diane's misery. She dropped the
skirt. She turned Diane to face her. She reached for Diane's
neckline. She pulled the elastic of the dress down, until it
caught below the swelling of the corset. The she then went to
work on the hooks of the corset. It took her several minutes to
undo five of the hooks. Diane's breast were busting out of the
vee created. If she went any lower, she would expose my nipples,
Diane thought alarmingly.
The clerk fished the tag out of the corset, and dropped it to lay
against the front of the lower neckline. Then she stood back, so
all could see her run the flashing red line across Diane's melons
and down to the tag. She knew that the laser shut off in two
second, to avoid overheating the light generator. She made sure
that those two sec were 'wasted' on the mounds of Diane's breast,
so the everyone could she how it revealed the deep cleavage.
Finally, the clerk could delay no longer. Tink. She pulled the
dress neckline out a couple inches and let it snap back into
place. The opened corset created a valley leading down into the
dress, and there was a clear shadow of that valley visible thru
the front of the sheer dress.
Diane was handed the bags of clothes, and they started back
through the mall. She caught many a man staring at her bust or
pubic area. With her breast thrust up as they were, the upper
slopes jiggled like Jell-O as they walked. Mr. Young often
stopped to look into store window. She realized they were all
store for men, and had men near the front. They would look up to
see Diane, and focus on her nearly naked pussy.
Out of the mall, and into the car. She forgot and he had to
remind her to place her behind against the seat.. He reached
over, and placed his hand on her thigh pushing her dress higher
till he could caress her mid thigh. He pushed her legs apart
just a little so he could stroke the inside.
The stroking, on top of all the stimulation and humiliation, had
an effect on her. She was wet down there. And there was only
the seat to absorb the excess. She tried to will her pussy to
stop, but her mind was overloaded with the images she had
presented over the last few hours.
They stopped for a light lunch. Again Diane was ogled on her way
to the table. But Mr. Young did not pile further humiliation
upon her. Of course, she was displayed on the way out of the
restaurant. Then it was back to the office. Thankfully, the
building was open and the building clean, so there was no one to
see her as they returned.
"I believe you have a punishment coming." Mr. Young said as the
entered the suite, and locked the outer door.
That's new, thought Diane. She would not have to worry about
being walked in on now.
"Sir, may I use the restroom first?", Diane asked.
"Of course you may, dear." answered Mr. Young.
Diane started for the Ladies room. She'd only gone 2 steps when
she realized the outer door was locked. She couldn't unlock it.
She couldn't reach bolt at the top of the door. She'd have to
use his private bathroom. But he still stood by the door. He
would have a clear view of the toilet. She knew she had no
choice.
She entered the restroom, and positioned herself. Lifting the
flowing skirt, she settled onto the seat. She looked out into
the office. He was watching. She could only meet his eyes for
an instant, before lowering hers and facing front. This was
supposed to be a private time. She had to concentrate to get
started. The splash seemed thunderous, as she started. She
glanced out at him. He was not staring in now, but she knew he
could hear her. He looked in again, and she quickly turned away.
She completed her toilette. She returned to the office. He
was sitting at his desk again. She couldn't meet his gaze.
Rules
"I have some rules for you to follow in the future.", started Mr.
Young. "You might wish to write these down and study them"
Diane retrieved the stool. This one was definitely taller. It
had a hard wooden seat. Then she went and got her pad and pen.
Lifting the back of her dress, she tried to lift herself onto the
stool. She had to hook one heel over a rung and push up to get
her derriere onto the top. She crossed her legs to get a
platform to place her pad on. She looked up, ready to write.
"First, Your flesh is the only thing that will touch that stool,"
he said indicating a new stool by the planter. "and it is the
only thing you will sit upon in this office. It will be placed
with the feet diagonal to my office chair. I will require the
same for your desk chair if I have forbidden panties for the
day." Also the seat of my car will also only touch your flesh.
If you are allowed panties when entering the car, you will lower
them 2 inches below your knees. You will maintain them there
without the use of your hands. "You will also sit that way
whenever we are out, and you have panties on. This will be
regardless of the environment."
"Second, Wednesday will be correction day. You will arrange to
come in early and stay after work on Wednesdays. Demerits will
be given for various errors and omissions on your part. There
will be a 15 spank starter given, even if no demerits are earned
for that period. There may be occasions when you are punished on
other days, for important mistakes or because I feel like it. If
the next day would be a punishment day, you will be given a 1 day
reprieve."
"Third. You will receive demerits for the following reasons.
1 demerit For each error in a document caught by me. Raised to
25 demerit penalty if reported by recipient. And you will ask for
the document to be faxed or returned so errors can be counted. I
will brag of, and wager against your perfection to my clients and
other employees, so they will be eager to report them.
2 demerits For failure to greet an employee or client.
Regardless of location.
2 demerits Each time I find you with your legs crossed or you
feet other than flat on the floor unless they do not reach it."
Diane hastily uncrossed her legs. She now had placed her pad on
her left leg. It made writing a little more difficult.
"Heel and ball both touching the floor." Mr. Young continued You
will receive a demerit for each if both are in violation at the
same time."
10 demerits Each 5 minutes you are late for work. Your start
time will be 7:30 from now on.
10 demerits late from lunch. For each 5 minutes you are late.
10 demerits Skirt less that 4 inches above knee. If I have to
measure and it's close, demerits will be awarded. One inch may
be added for each 4 inches of slits over 12 inches total. Up to
two slits may be counted. I.e. 8 inch slits up each side allows
3" hemline. 6" slit front back and sides, no adjustment. Only
2 count.
10 demerits Wearing pantyhose, or other garment or material
except panties. If it is a 'No Panties" day or period the
demerits will be tripled.
10 demerits Failure to wear stockings.
10 demerits If panties slip below 2" from knees when wearing them
in my car.
10 demerits Failure to show adequate cleavage. I will be the
sole judge on this
10 demerits Inadequate makeup 10 demerits Again, my sole
discretion.
10 demerits Failure to complete a document on time.
25 demerits Failure to complete as assignment on time.
25 demerits Caught sitting on skirt where or when forbidden.
50 demerits Missing work for any reason excused or not. This is
to compensate me for having to use a temp. This is to be an
example of a special punishment.
200 demerits Alcohol on breathe, or evidence or indulgence
during working hours
100 demerits breaking of a preset after hours 'date.
250 demerits For Exhibition or and other public sexually
related activity without my escort or permission. This is for
your safety. "
"Other demerits will be added to the list as we go along. You
will post this list on the inside of my bathroom cabinet for
referral." He finished with "You are to be aware of your
un-administered demerits at all times. I may post the number on
my office wall."
"Do you have any questions, Miss Wilson?" he inquired.
"No Sir", said the cowed Diane.
"Good, do you know your current number of demerits?" asked Mr.
Young.
"I had 45, Sir.", Diane offered. "But I'm sure you will add one
for crossing my legs just now, so it is 46, Sir."
"Good try, Miss Wilson.", he said "However, you also get 10 for
that skirt, it's not short enough, 10 for not wearing stocking,
10 for having you blouse buttoned too high, 10 for failure to
wear makeup, and 25 for flesh not touching the seat of my car.
Since you were not aware of the demerits, I will only award half
of the demerits. That's 33. Added to the 45, that makes 78.
With the 15 spank starter, it totals 93."
My god. 93 spanks, she'd never be able to take it. That had
to be twice as many as she had gotten before. He couldn't give
them to her all at once, could he? Her bottom still was tender.
How could he punish her for rules she hadn't even known about.
93 more, she'd never be able to sit again. She couldn't sit here
and take this. She had to run. She had to report this. But if
he got canned, she'd go back to the secretarial pool. That
couldn't happen. Besides, the orgasms she'd had last time had
been amazing.
"Miss Wilson," he said. "I want you to remove your dress. For
this correction you will be naked."
'Damn' thought Diane. There was no one else in the building, but
being naked at work was just so forbidden. So humiliating. So
exciting. But, she was going to be punished hard. It was scary
too.
She lifted the light white fabric slowly. Exposing her thighs,
her sex, her belly, then her breasts, and finally over her head.
She was naked except for the red heels. She looked around for
something to do with her dress.
"There are hangers in the bathroom," her employer said. "Hang it
up properly, then lock the door, and close it.
What! The only clothes she had on were the dress. All the rest
were still in the trunk of the Mercedes. To have her clothes
locked away, too not have the possibility of their modesty, it
was just unthinkable. Yet she slowly walked to the lavatory, and
hung her dress on the hanger aback the door. Then she slowly
locked and closed the door. The click of the latch echoed in her
brain. Would he keep her naked for the rest of the day? Longer?
Would he........? She turned back to the desk. His eyes
followed her breasts as she approached.
"Come to the desk and place your palms on the top." he directed.
"Good. Now move your feet back 3 feet from the desk, and 3 feet
apart.
Oh God. The position was humiliating. Her hair fell forward to
frame her face. Her breasts hung like fruit on a tree. And the
view from behind, she just could imagine. The reach and the
heels made her ass stick out horribly what a target it would
make. And her butt cheeks and sex lips were both fully opened.
Her eyes meet his for just a second before she lowered her in
shame. He left her standing there for several long minutes.
Finally, he opened a desk drawer and took out a standard ping
pong paddle. No!, her mind screamed. He laid it on the desk
before her. A paddle, 93 times, impossible! It was a good one,
she saw, thick, hard. He couldn't be serious! While she watched
he worked at the rubber coating on one side of the paddle.
Slowly, he pealed it away, leaving the bare wood. No! Please!
She wanted to shout out something that would make this go away.
But, it wouldn't. She knew it wouldn't. He finished the paddle,
and laid it down on the desk again. She waited.
He waited five more minutes. He wanted the tension to build. It
would be more effect that way. Finally, he slowly pushed back
from his desk. Diane's eye got bigger, if that were possible,
pleading, begging. He smiled back at her just a little. She
would endure her punishment, it told her. He walked around
behind her. Well back so he could take in the sight of her
offered private areas. She was truly beautiful. And truly
opened, truly vulnerable. He approached her, and laid his hand
on her buttocks caressing the lovely flesh.
"Are you ready to begin, Miss Wilson?" he inquired.
"Yes", Diane barely breathed the word.
"So be it."
Smack! The paddle smashed into her right cheek. It hurt.
Smack! Another flash of pain.
Smack! Like an electric shock, only bigger.
Smack! The burn was starting
Smack! Lighting struck again
Smack! The thunder of the blows was echoing in the office.
Smack! The heat was rising.
Smack! "Oh" she breathed aloud.
Smack! It HURT!
Smack! He struck again!
Whack! Her feet shifted, making his target roll seductively.
Whack! But still his aim was true.
Whack! Tears filled Diane's eyes.
Whack! It hurt so bad
Whack! Air whooshed from her mouth with each strike.
Whack! The fire in Diane's butt was rolling now.
Whack! "Ahhhhh" , escaped Diane's lips.
Whack! The paddle slammed into her ass again.
Whack! The view of her abused butt was exquisite.
Whack! He watched as her butt was changing from pink to red.!!
Smack! She couldn't see for the tears, now
Smack! But it didn't matter, the action was all behind her
Smack! Her pain was blocking out her other senses.
Smack! Except for her hearing. It registered every booming
slap.
Smack! Burning into her brain almost as severely as the pain.
Smack! "OWWWWWW!"
Smack! The pain was too much
Smack! "OOOUUUUCH!"
Smack! Her fanny was an inferno"
Smack! "IIIIEEEEEEEEE!" Screamed Diane"!!!
Wham! It continued.
Wham! More blows
Wham! "AAAAAAAAA"
Wham! More spanks
Wham! "Please!"
Wham! He struck again
Wham! "It hurts"
Wham! And again
Wham! "AAGGGGH"
Wham! The paddle blazed into her backside!
Smack! She couldn't go on. But she had no choice
Smack! "Please"
Smack! The fire was spreading
Smack! "No More"
Smack! She hurt so bad
Smack! "Stop"
Smack! "Please Sir"
Smack! "AAGGHH"
Smack! It burned into her very being
Smack! "Have MERCYYYYYY"!!!!!
Smack! She was hysterical now
Smack! "OOOOOWWWWEEEE!"
Smack! The fire was reaching elsewhere.
Whack! "AAAAAAAA!"
Smack! Starting a tingling.
Wham! "GGGWW"
Smack! Building a fire elsewhere
Whack! "GGGAAAA"
Smack! But it was overshadow by her pain.
Wham! "EEEEEEEEE!"!!!!! !
Smack! It couldn't get to the surface.
Smack! "OOOWWWW!"
Smack! So it simmered
Smack! "EEEEEEEE"
Smack! And built
Smack! "OUCH"
Smack! Waiting
Smack! "IEEEEEEEEE"
Smack! Growing
Smack! "AHHHHHH"!!!!! !!
Smack! The pain was changing
Smack! "OWWWWWWWWWWW!'
Whack! Her pain centers were overloading
Smack! "IIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
Wham! Sending nerve impulses to other parts of the brain
Smack! "GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG"
Whack! Diane, was a mass of sensation.
Smack! "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
Wham! Both pain,
Smack! "HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" !!!!! !!!
Wham! And stimulation.
Smack! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
Whack! The tingle, saw its chance
Wham! "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"
Smack! It added it's voice to the impulses in Diane's brain
Smack! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
Whack! It wouldn't be denied.
Smack! "AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa"
Wham! Diane's screams became moans.
Whack! She had no control.
Smack! He slammed the last few strokes into her ass.
Smack! He knew she was close.
Smack! The last one.
He threw down the paddle, and undid his pants. The paddling had
driven her onto his desk. He took out the tube of KY he had put
into his pocket. Liberally applying it to his cock, he stepped
forward, and placed himself against her anus. He reached around
her and grabbed her tits. He pushed into her determinedly. Not
too fast, but not truly gently. Her head came up and she
screamed again. He dropped one hand down to her clit. He
withdrew and plunged again. And again.
He was driving into her ass. She was moaning now. Thrusting
into her. Her moans increased in volume. The tingle had become a
fire of another sort. Pumping. He touched her cunt and it
blazed. He pounded her asshole. She was lunging back to meet
his thrusts. He touched her clit, giving it one flick of a
finger. She was........
"OHHHHH GGGAAAWWWDDDDDDDddddddddddd" "I'M COMING. A massive
orgasm swept over Diane. It was incredible. Dazzling. Lights
flashed. She felt a wave sweep from head to toe, and back again.
She couldn't breath. She could only feel. And it was beyond
her wildest fantasy.
Diane orgasmed. Her ass clenched his cock, as they slammed
together. It was too much. He came. Came like he never had
before. He dumped gallons of cum into his secretary's ass. It
just kept going. It was incredible.
He almost slumped against her, but remembered the thrashing he'd
given her. He stood on weak legs until he slid from her. He
pulled up his trousers and arranged himself. Diane lay slumped
over his desk. He carefully picked her up, and laid her on the
sofa against the wall. Then he went to his lavatory. He washed
himself, and put on clean boxers, and shirt. He found a large
bath towel. Returning to the sofa, her gently laid it on the
exhausted girl.
He sat at his desk. She was wonderful, beautiful. He hoped he
could maintain her as his secretary for a long, long time. He
had work to do, if he wanted to play more this weekend. And he
wanted to play more.
*********************************
It was well after four. She could delay not longer. She would
have to tell Mr. Young now, or Anne might just leave and not
return. If that happened, Diane knew her ass was grass. She
knocked on his office doorway.
He looked up. "Yes, Miss Wilson" he asked puzzled by the look on
her face.
"There's something I have to bring to your attention, Sir."
Diane started. "Some thing very grave, I'm afraid. And
ultimately, I'm responsible.", her head sagging at the last
part.
"Well, ", said her boss. "You'd better close the door and come
tell me about it. Since you are at fault, you will be nude while
you explain. Your explanation had better be as reveling as you
will be. Strip and put your clothes on the desk"
She knew he would demand a concession for having a part in what
ever it was she had to explain. As far as the mentioned honesty,
neither had a doubt she would tell the whole truth, naked or not.
She removed her dress, unzipping it and pulling it forward and
then stepping out of it. As she walked to the desk with it, her
breasts jiggled in the light sheer bra that was all she had
underneath. He had not returned her panties this morning.
She stepped back from the desk, so he could see all of her. Then
she reached back and undid the bra. She let it fall to the
floor, then slowly stooped to pick it up, keeping her head up so
he had a good view of her hanging breasts. They still excited
him like that. And she needed all the points she could entice.
She brought the bra to the desk, and dropped it. Once again, she
stepped back so he could see all of her.
"I have found an employee, who has been embezzling funds, sir."
She began. "They have been inserting false expense reports for
one of the salesmen. I don't believe he is involved in the
fraud. I believe the person submitting the reports had taken
advantage of his longevity, and therefore lessened need to woo
his clients. His expenses reports are traditionally lower than
average. However, for the past three months his expenses have
been in the top 2% of the sales forces expenditures. Therefore,
I investigated the expenses. Most of them were for cash, or were
from establishments catering to a very young clientele.
Regrettably, all of the questionable expenses were receipted by
Miss Anne Draggert. As you may remember, Anne is my niece. I
badgered you into recommending her to the personnel dept. They
hired her on your recommendation, over several more qualified
candidates. I'm afraid I have embarrassed you, as well as
myself. I have nothing to say, other than I'm sorry, and accept
full responsibility.
Mr. Young contemplated the information, for two minutes. "Have
you brought this to Miss Draggert's attention?" he asked.
"I have only requested she remain after work," Diane said. "That
there was something I wished to discuss"
Mr. Young picked up his telephone, and dialed security. "Is Alan
Jones in yet." , He listened a moment. "Alan, Richard Young. I
have a 'special' request for you. There is a Miss Anne
Draggert,", he looked at Diane, who describe her niece. "19
years old, shoulder length light brown hair, wearing a blue
blouse and white skirt. She's should be at station 3 N in the
secretarial pool.", he waited for acknowledgement, then
continued. "I would like you to bring her to my office. Under
no circumstance is she to leave the premises. Be discreet, but
bring her. Stop at the outer office and wait until she enters
and closes the door. This is a very special request, and I
expect your total discretion.". He listened a moment longer. "I
knew you'd understand. I'll call you later when you're needed."
Diane was beside her self. She had hoped that Mr. Young would
not press charges. Now he had security standing by, and would be
calling them to take her niece away. She had shed her soul and
her clothes for nothing.
"Miss Wilson", her boss broke her revere. "I want you to
kneeling beside my desk when you niece is brought in."
Denise stepped over and fell to her knees. What would her niece
think?
On the third floor, Anne could take it no longer. She left her
desk and was headed for the coatroom. She didn't even see him
come up behind her.
"Excuse me. Miss Draggert, I believe."
She spun around to the voice. As she took in the uniform, the
color drained from her face, and she froze.
Now just what's going on here, thought Alan? Panic was the word
that came to mind as he looked at the pretty young girl. She was
positively terrified by his appearance.
"Mr. Young would like to see you in his office.", the security
leader said.
"Bbuttt, I'm waiting for my aunt.", the girl said.
"I believe she is with Mr. Young too.", Alan said realizing who
had been talking in the back ground. Mr. Young had the best
looking secretary in the building. He remembered the night she
had descended the stairs, those bodacious knockers almost falling
out of her open blouse. But this girl was mighty fine too. Mr.
Young had all the luck. He had given him several tips, that had
gotten Alan promoted to shift lead. He would deliver this girl
gladly. He suspected, he might get involved later, were she to
be fired, she would have to be escorted from the building.
He grabbed the girl's bicep, and gently pulled her toward the
elevator. He could feel her tension increase with each step. By
the time the elevator reached the executive floor, she was
positively shaking. This must be something good. He'd love to
be a fly on the wall for this one. Especially with 1000 eyes to
view this babe. He led her to the office door and watched as she
entered, and closed the door. Was that Mr. Young's secretary by
his desk? Why she seemed to be kneeling. Maybe I'll stroll
around the upper floors for awhile, I might catch some
conversation, which will explain it all. Or better yet, a better
look at the executive assistant. He could hope couldn't he.
Anne entered the huge office. She didn't realize how big office
was. It even had its own bathroom she saw. As she approached
the desk she saw some clothing lying on the man's desk, a large
bra was the top. Then she saw her aunt. She turned to look and
gasped. What the hell, she thought. Her aunt was KNEELING
beside the CEO's desk. And she was COMPLETELY NUDE. What the
F***, is going on.
"Miss Draggert, isn't it.", the company chief said, snapping Anne
around again. Anne just nodded.
"Miss Wilson, here, tells me she has discovered, shall we say,
some irregularities in the Monthly expense report.", said the
impeccably dressed man. "Would you be able to shed any light on
this matter?"
'Oh god'. They knew. Her aunt had already told her boss, there
would be no chance to explain. No chance to return the money.
She knew she was fired maybe even arrested. But, wait. Her aunt
obviously had a sexual harassment case against her boss. Maybe
they could use it to........
"Your aunt brought this information to me knowing that, as your
sponsor, she would be punished severely." stated the executive.
"Her honesty will certainly save her from demotion or dismissal.
I believe, you need to access your honesty, and also the
potential drawbacks to your plight." he paused. "Would like to
say anything, Miss Draggert.", he finished with a penetrating
stare
Anne was finished. She wilted under the CEO's eyes. She was
doomed. She may as well admit it. It wouldn't make any
difference anyway.
"I made up expense vouchers, and took the money from petty
cash.", the words gushed out in a rush. "I also turned in some
receipts for dinners at restaurants that I couldn't afford to go
to otherwise. I needed the money for my car. I wanted a
convertible. I had to have it. The others were just frivolous
whims, but I love my car," She turned to her aunt, "I'm so sorry!
What have I gotten you into? Forgive meee!" The tears started
now, pouring down her cheeks in rivers.
Turning back to the executive she continued, "I'll pay you back.
Honest. I'll get another job and I'll pay the company back every
dime. Just don't send me to jail. Please don't send me to
jail." She knew her job was gone. No sense begging for that.
Her tears boiled from her eyes"
"I'm afraid that there is no way to pay back the money without
making the theft obvious." The executive said. "Therefore the
only way to pay back the company is with you. Either, you will
submit to corporal punishment, and to becoming my total slave, to
do with as I wish, and give to whom I wish, or I will have you
prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Further, should you
decline my offer; your aunt will receive the full and complete
fulfillment of your punishment." He paused to let that sink in.
Diane's eyes snapped up at the mention of her taking the full
brunt of the punishment. She knew if it defaulted to her, it
would be even more terrible.
Anne dreaded the thought of being punished, but jail....... She
couldn't. She had no choice. She would have to accept.
Obviously, the harassment angle would not receive any support
from her aunt. She raged at herself. How had she been so
stupid? She'd dug a hole deeper than she could ever have
imagined.
"Sir,", she stammered. "I don't want to go to jail. I have no
alternative do I?"
"No Miss, you really don't. But you should have thought of that
sooner, hadn't you?"
She was doomed. A doom even worse than she had feared all day.
Would she really become a slave? Would he really do all the
things that ran through her mind as she contemplated her fate.
Slaves were beaten. They were forced to sexually please their
masters. And used to entertain, display themselves before
friends, and business associates. They were even given to
others, as rewards or signs of friendship. She had never had
sex. She didn't even masturbate. How could she ever cope with
such a life.
"Yes Sir." Anne said hanging her head. Her fate was decided. If
she went to jail her parents would die.
"Miss Draggert, ", the executive said. "The terms of my silence
are as follows."
"First, I will seize your car, taking over the title, as well as
the loan. You will not be allowed to drive a car, until you
complete your primary sentence."
"Second, you will give up your apartment and move in with Miss
Wilson! She will have complete authority over you when you are
not serving me. She will report any disobedience or violation of
your sentence."
"Third, you will be transferred from the secretarial pool, and
become Miss Wilson's receptionist. This will allow me more
access to you, allowing more severe punishment, without the
detection by your co-workers"
Four, your period of sentence, will be two years. You will be
available for punishment each and every day, though you may not
be punished every day. You will be allowed to beg for release
from your obligations for a day. But, if such release is
granted, two days will be added to your sentence."
Five, a list of rules will be given to you, similar to, but more
severe than Miss Wilson's.
You will be responsible to know not only the rules, but to know
your number of demerits at any time. The punishment for these
demerits will be in addition to your punishment for your crime.
If demerits are earned for violations involving other people, you
will ask them to provide your chastisement."
"Your punishment will be very severe, as will your life here at
work, and under my or Miss Wilson's care." finished the
executive. "Do you acknowledge and accept these conditions of
your continued employment."
My god. A slave for 2 years. And with her aunt, who was to be
punished severely for HER dishonesty, as her keeper. Her aunt
would hate her. She would probably be worse that her boss. And
Anne would suffer more, because of the shame of having caused her
aunts downfall.
"I guess I have no choice, Mr. Young", she barely breathed. "I have to accept."
"I suppose we should get started then, should we not." Mr. Young
said. "Anne you will disrobe."
'Oh my gosh', thought Anne. She had agreed, but... Now she really
had to do it. She hadn't been naked in front of anyone in almost
10 years. Even her mother respected her privacy. Now she had
to strip in front of the older head of her company. She blushed.
Her blood burned into her checks. She reached slowly for the
buttons of her blouse. She couldn't get her fingers to work, she
was shaking so hard. She got the first button. She moved to the
second. If it wasn't for her aunt's nudity, she wouldn't be able
to do this.
She slowly got the buttons unfastened. She pulled the blouse
opened, and slid it off her shoulders. She reached out and
placed it on the desk beside her aunt's bra. What next, her
skirt. She reached for the button at the side, then the zipper.
The skirt slid quietly down her legs to puddle at her feet. She
reached down and stepped out of the garment, placing it on the
desk too. Oh god. She was going to have to take her bra off.
Her tiny tits would be visible to the executive. She fiddled a
moment. Her blush increased. She was panting, her heart racing.
She reached back and released the bra, then shrugged her
shoulders. It fell into her hands. Onto the desk it went. Her
tits were in plain view. She wanted to cover them with her arms,
but she knew it would not be allowed. She stood there for
several seconds. Her panties were left, her last vestige of
decency. She saw him nod. She had to. Slowly, she slid them
down, and off. She stooped to pick them up and deposit them with
the rest of what were once HER clothes.
She was naked. It hit her now. She had stripped in front of
this man who was at least twice her age. God. And she knew what
was coming next. He was going to ..........
How. How would he punish her first?
"Step behind the chair, ", said her new boss. "And lean over the
back, and place your hand on the front of the seat. Wide, near
the arms of the chair."
Anne complied.
"You are going to under go a severe spanking." Mr. Young
continued. You will not have the intimacy of being over my
knee, or the personal application of my hand. I am going to tie
you here, because you would not be able to maintain your position
throughout your punishment. Then I will use the paddle."
Mr. Young removed some rope from a closet built into the wall.
He roped her wrists to the upright of the chair's arms. The wood
was solid. She wouldn't be able to pull it out or break it.
Then, the executive stepped behind her, and knelt on one knee.
He pulled her right foot out to the leg of the chair, and tied it
securely. He grabbed the other leg, and did the same. She was
opened now. Her anus and cunt were fully displayed before him.
She felt his breath on her intimate place. God, he was staring
at her open sex.
Mr. Young stood, walked to his desk, and took out the trusty ping
pong paddle. It wasn't the same one he had first used on Diane.
That one had splintered with age and use, and had been replaced,
more than once actually. But this one was as heavy and sturdy as
that one had been.
SSMAACK! "OOOOFFFF", the blow caught Anne by surprise.
SSMAACK! He was hitting her so hard
SSMAACK! So very hard.
SSMAACK! Harder than she every imagined.
SSMAACK! He couldn't do this
SSMAACK! "ooohhh"
SSMAACK! He'd ruin her ass
SSMAACK! DAMN THIS HURTS
SSMAACK! "owwww" she moaned
SSMAACK! "OUCH!!"
WWHAACK! He struck again.
WWHAACK! And AGAIN.
WWHAACK! "OWWww"
WWHAACK! And AGAIN
WWHAACK! "AHHHH!"
WWHAACK! It burned.
WWHAACK! "AAAGGGH!"
WWHAACK! And burned.
WWHAACK! "IIIIEEEE"
WWHAACK! She was in pain.
SSLAMM! Again the paddle slammed into her buttocks
SSLAMM! "NOOOOO!"
SSLAMM! Anne's behind was in agony
SSLAMM! "PLEASE!"
SSLAMM! He was really blasting her.
SSLAMM! "I'M SORRY!"
SSLAMM! Tears were streaming from her eyes
SSLAMM! "PLEASEEE!
SSLAMM! The paddle slammed into the violet meat.
SSLAMM! "HELP MEEEEEE!"
WWHAAMM! He continued the paddling
WWHAAMM! "OOUUCCHHHH!"
WWHAAMM! Driving home the lesson.
WWHAAMM! "OOOWWWWWWW!
WWHAAMM! Her ass was purple now
WWHAAMM! "I'M SORRY"
WWHAAMM! "SOOORRRRYYYY!"
WWHAAMM! The pain was unbelievable.
WWHAAMM! "AAAGGGGG!"
WWHAAMM! She couldn't think
SSMAAKK! "PLEASE"
SSMAAKK! She thrashed in her ropes.
SSMAAKK! "NO MORE!"
SSMAAKK! The pain was unbearable.
SSMAAKK! "EEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
SSMAAKK! This had to stop.
SSMAAKK! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
SSMAAKK! She was going insane with pain.
SSMAAKK! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
SSMAAKK!! "GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG"
BBLAMM! "I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I"
BBLAMM! "UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU"
BBLAMM! "YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"
BBLAMM! "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
BBLAMM! "GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG"
BBLAMM! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
BBLAMM! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
BBLAMM! "MMMMMMMMMmmmmmm"
BBLAMM! "AAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh"
BBLAMM! "I I I I E E E E eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"
Anne slumped over the chair. Her heart was pounding wildly, her
breath coming in pants like a dog on a hot day. She was nearly
comatose. The fire in her ass heated her entire being. But it
was over.
"I will give you a break before I continue." She heard the CEO
say.
MY GOD!!, she thought. I can't take any more. He couldn't
possibly mean to give her more. No, her ass was ruined. It just
wouldn't take any more.
The top exec., sat in the other armchair. He had a perfect view
of his assistant, and her beautiful breasts. As he rested, he
studied them carefully. Yes, a truly gorgeous view, that he
never tired of. He had promised her a severe punishment. He
had to make the punishment fit the crime, even thought Diane had
not been the perpetrator, she was guilty by association, at least
in their little world. Diane understood her place, and his
provincialities. She would think less of him if he didn't punish
her for her part, small though it may be.
"Miss Wilson", her boss called to her. "It is your turn now. Do
you accept your part in this situation, and ask for your
punishment."
"Yes, Sir Mr. Young. Please punish me for embarrassing you.
Please feel free to be as severe as you need to be, to erase my
failure.
"Yes, Miss Wilson," said the executive. "Your punishment will be
short, but very severe. Without your recommendation, this
unfortunate incident would not have occurred. You shall
remember, after this, to make sure that your recommendations are,
shall we say less felonious."
Anne cringed at the last word. He was reminding her that jail was
where she should be headed. But it didn't lessen the pain in her
behind.
Diane just hung her head. She had been so sure of her niece, and
the little bitch had stolen. How could she have judged so
poorly?
Mr. Young rose from his seat. As he approached his secretary, he
loosened his belt, pulling it from the loops. Doubling it over
he stood to the left side of his beautiful secretary.
Diane saw the belt. He had only used it a few times, when he was
particularly disappointed. The end snapped with such ferocity.
She hated it. It left bruises that took a week to fade. She
only hoped he wouldn't give her too many.
"Forty,", said her boss. "To your breasts!"
A gasp exploded from both Diane's and Anne's mouth. 'Her breasts'
both screamed silently. Oh god, Oh god. How could she take it.
A woman's breasts were soft, delicate, and tender. To have them
punished would be awful. To have them punished with the wide
thick belt in the CEO's hand would be terrible.
"Miss Wilson, place your hands on your head.", the CEO said.
Diane complied. "You must keep your hands in place. Each time
they drop below your ears, I will apply one stoke to you back.
If you should fail to return them promptly, I will add an
additional stroke for each count I reach, until they are properly
back on your head. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir. Keep my hands on my head, Sir." She was shaking now.
Her breasts were a moving target. She closed her eyes, dreading
the coming horror. He was making her wait.
SSSWACK! Her eyes flew opened. It was horrible, worse than she
imagined.
SSSWACK! The belt seared into her breasts just below her nipples.
Pain.
SSSWACK! This one from above, to the tops of her breasts. Air
blasted from her lungs.
SSSWACK! This one reaching to punish the outside side of her
right breast.
SSSWACK! "Oh!" This one across both nipples, burning into her
breasts.
Incredible, her breast meat compressed when the belt struck.
Then it expanded again, ballooning out a fraction farther than
their normal size. Then they would bounce most exotically. Then
a pink image of the belt would form on the skin. He was
mesmerized by the sight. He paused for a moment, watching the
pink lines brighten.
SSSWACK! "Oww!" Again across the nipples. She thought they
would explode.
SSSWACK! "Ahgg!" Down on the tops. The strike searing into
her mind as well as her flesh.
SSSWACK! "Oooo!" Full across only the left breast. Digging
deeply into the flesh.
SSSWACK! "OUCH! Underhand, striking the tender bottoms of her
breasts.
SSSWACK! "AHHH! Again the undersides. The pain was horrible.
Burning. Consuming. Blasting
Into her brain.
He paused again. The beautiful orbs were wonderfully striped.
Hot pink, and lovely.
He was wonderfully aroused. Diane shivered. Her breast jiggled
slightly, he adored when they did that. He watched a moment
more.
SSSWACK! He struck her on the inside for her left breast. It
twisted her around pulling the breast, her torso following
SSSWACK! He struck her right breast low, below the nipple. The
boob compressed then burst outward again, and then bounced a few
times.
SSSWACK! A viscous cut angling down to catch both breasts above
the nipple and slapping them down into her diaphragm.
SSSWACK! Across both nipples again. They were huge, dark, and
pulsing.
SSSWACK! Again compressing the flesh, and bouncing them
vigorously.
He paused again. He had wanted to do this for years. Her lovely
breasts had always been the center of his attention. The key to
his lust for her. To make them move in the ways they were now,
it was fantastic. And the marks, only gave them depth and
texture. He stared at them.
Diane was in pain. After only 15 stokes. There were 25 to go.
Her precious breasts were pink, hot, throbbing, burning and
painful, all at the same time. And the way he looked at them.
Practically drooling over them as they shook, and jiggled. The
lust in his eyes. And the tent in his trousers.........
SSSWACK! The belt cut into her breasts again. "Please"
SSSWACK! It smashed into her engorged nipples. "NOOOO" they
throbbed harder.
SSSWACK! The undersides. "AGHHHH" How it hurt? The stinging
pain, the vicious upward
thrust, and the bouncing to a stop. Each was a blast of
sensation, torment, pain.
SSSWACK! Across her right nipple, the loop blasting into the
outside of her tit. They were tits now.
Breast didn't feel like this. "PLEASE"
SSSWACK! "NO MORE!!!" Boiling, throbbing, hurting TITS.
Mr. Young paused. He walked around his sobbing executive
assistant. Tears poured from her eyes. She sounded like she was
running a marathon, Huffing and puffing for enough air to feed
her pumping heart. Sweat on her brow, the matted hair. All of
that stunning, but her breast were the best part. They were
almost entirely red. Darker where the edge caught or the
strokes overlapped. Her nipples were gigantic, and pulsed with
the beat of her heart. They rose and fell with her rapid
breathing. He watched for minutes.
Diane had never experienced such pain in so tender a place. She
sobbed continuously, gasping for air. She was glad for the
break, even if his eyes were boring holes in her tits. Her tits
were ablaze. Stinging. Hurting. Throbbing. She tried to shake
them to ease the pain. She thought her boss's eye would pop out
of his head. Wrong move. Or was it. The longer he stared at
her tits, the longer she could rest. She watched for an
indication he was ready to deliver more blows. When she saw it
she shook them again, hard. It didn't feel too nice, but he
fixed on them again. It gave her another minute before the pain
came again.
Mr. Young walked to Diane's other side. He should even out the
blows. He knew the game she played shaking those luscious orbs.
He didn't care. It was a sight to behold.
He gave her another minute, a reward for her exhibition.
SSSWACK! "OHHH" He struck her across both nipples again. The
blow wasn't as strong from this
side, but Diane couldn't tell. Only that it hurt.
SSSWACK! "OWW" Down across the tops. Driving her breast down, to
rebound off her ribs.
SSSWACK! "AHHH" Across the left breast, the end splatting
against the outside of that tit.
SSSWACK! "IEEE" across the soft underside. Bouncing them
upward.
SSSWACK! "SHITTTT" Across the nipples again. Her tit, as if
running from the flying leather, retreating into her chest.
Then jumping out again in pain.
Diane's hands came down, grabbing her tits to protect them. They
hurt so badly. She tried to comfort them, but they seared her
hands. Her touch was little better than another blast from the
belt.
SSSWACK! The belt struck her back. He had not hurried. Waiting
many seconds before he gave the penalty. And he didn't start
counting. He motioned to her. Her eyes said no, but she slowly
raised her hand, replacing them on top of her head. SWWACK! The
belt struck her back again. She got the message. He would not
show mercy if she lowered her hands again.
He walked around the sobbing beauty before him. She shook with
the sobs, and her breast danced with the movement. He circled
again. She was gorgeous in her misery. He had never wanted her
so badly. He had to finish.
SWACK! "MMMOOOHH" His swing was not so powerful now.
SWACK! "WHAAAAAA" But still it stung her badly.
SWACK! "AAAHHHHH" He stuck the side. Banging the breast
together
SWACK! "OOOWWWW" Then from the other side.
SWACK! "IEEEEEEEEE" She jerked about, trying to hold her
position.
SWACK! "GGAAAHHH" he struck her from below. The soft
underside bruised.
SWACK! "EEEEEEEEE" The strike angled down catching the
inside of one
breast and driving it down, to rebound vigorously.
SWACK! "AAAAAAAA" Inside of the other breast, causing a
similar reaction.
SSTOPP! "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII" The full swing caught just
the tip of her right tit
SSPOPP! "EEEEEEEEEEEEEE" Her left nipple exploded in
pain too.
Diane was nearly exhausted. Her eyes were closed, and only flew
opened with each bite of the belt. Then they would fall slowly
closed, until the next blow. Her respiration had slowed a bit,
but she was drawing huge lungfuls of air. Her hair was soaked,
and matted, her face flushed and sweaty. Her breasts, well they
were striped, welted, crimson, bruised, and moving with each
breath she took and shudder that took her. Her knees were
spread, and her sex was opened and ..............
WET. How could she be aroused? She was in pain. Was her brain
so overloaded it sent signals everywhere. Or was she proud of
the way her boss looked at her. Was his lust firing her own?
Was the pain itself, a stimuli, an aphrodisiac, a form of
foreplay. It stimulated. It made her burn. It penetrated her
mind. It made her lose control. Had the humiliation of her
nudity before her niece raised her desire? Had her observance of
Anne's punishment, stimulated some memories, or. Was it just the
sum of the whole?
He had to have her NOW. He couldn't wait to finish the last 5
strokes. The paddling of the young girl had aroused him, but his
own secretary, and her beautiful breast, made his blood boil.
The sight of those lovely breasts, decorated as they were, was
going to cause him to explode. He wanted her, RIGHT NOW. He
circled behind her, and dropped his pants.
"Get on your hands and knees", was all he said.
As soon as she was down, he reached for her breasts. As he
grabbed them, he thrust quickly into her dripping cunt.
God YESSSSSS. Diane screamed. The penetration was incredible.
In all these years, he had never properly fucked her. She sucked
him constantly, and he used her ass from time to time. But, now
he was FUCKING her. Filling her vagina. Her cunt. Her sex. It
was incredible. Even his hands kneading the screaming breasts,
could not get the attention of her brain. It was busy, basking
in the glow of his penis filling her.
God, she was tight. Velvety and tight. Why had he never fucked
her cunt before? Because he couldn't get her pregnant, was why.
He had to keep up his reputation, and hers. Well his reputation
was made. He would do this again. And again he realized.
Why he kept This woman under his thumb. Why he made her dress
seductively. Why he had initiated the punishments. Why he had
used his desire for corporal punishment to make her the best
office manager in the company. And why had she accepted.. The
humiliation, the punishment, and the passionless sex. And still
she adored him. He knew it. She was quite a lady.
Their lust had them both on edge. The fire consumed them both.
After only a short romp, he exploded into her womb. And the
incredible feeling of his ejaculation triggered Diane's own
orgasm. They locked into a single statue-like being, quaking,
but unmoving. It lasted a long time.
He rested against her, cradling her breasts. They both were
breathing like race horses. It had be some race indeed, a photo
finish. Slowly, he shrank and slipped from her. He lowered her
gently to the floor, then recovered his trousers. He gently
lifted her from the floor and laid her on the sofa, pulling the
ornamental afghan over her. He sat down in an arm chair and
closed his eyes.
After many minutes, Mr. Young opened his eyes. Slowly, he sat
forward in the seat. He had punishment to deliver.
"Well, Miss Dragert", he said. Shall we continue with your
punishment? He slowly walked over to pick up the belt. Anne
couldn't believe he was going to use that on her. She had seen
what it had done to her aunt. AND SHE HADN'T DONE ANYTHING.
Then he picked up his socks. He approached Anne.
"The rest of your punishment is going to be severe.", he said.
"Your screams were bad enough before. I think we need to do
something about that, don't you Miss Dragert." Without waiting
for her reply, he stuffed his dirty socks deeply into the girls
mouth. The socks filled her mouth, stretching it wide and making
her cheeks bulge. They tasted awful.
HISSS SWACK! An Explosion of sound was followed instantly by and
explosion of pain
HISSS SWACK! She hadn't gotten her breath yet to scream when the
second blow struck.
HISSS SWACK! SHE SCREAMED. "aaarrrgghhhhhh" the muffled sound
escaped.
HISSS SWACK! IT HURT. IT BURNED. IT SEARED.
HISSS SWACK! He struck again.
HISSS SWACK! IT BLAZED.
HISSS SWACK! She screamed again. "nooooooooooooooo"
HISSS SWACK! Her ass, it BOILED
HISSS SWACK! He cut viscously across her buttocks
HISSS SWACK! Agony. "lease oppppppppppp" !
HISSS SWACK! The belt was marking her..
HISSS SWACK! "elppppppppppppppp"
HISSS SWACK! She strained at the ropes holding her.
HISSS SWACK! Pulling, tearing at them as he struck again
HISSS SWACK! "owwwwwwwwwwwww"
HISSS SWACK! The belt struck. Agony
HISSS SWACK! "iiieeeeeeeeeeeee"
HISSS SWACK! Fire raged in her ass cheeks
HISSS SWACK! She thrashed on the chair.
HISSS SWACK! "AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH" !!
HISSS SWACK! Threatening to upset it
HISSS SWACK! "AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR"
HISSS SWACK! But it was a sturdy chair
HISSS SWACK! "GGGGGGAAAAAAAAA"
HISSS SWACK! And she was a smallish girl
HISSS SWACK! Her ass was welting now
HISSS SWACK! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
HISSS SWACK! Digging deep into the muscle.
HISSS SWACK! Broiling her flesh
HISSS SWACK! "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" !!!
HISSS SWACK! Again the belt came.
HISSS SWACK! "iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii"
HISSS SWACK! Flaming into her tight butt.
HISSS SWACK! Torturing her body.
HISSS SWACK! "NNNAAAAAAAAAAA"
HISSS SWACK! Baking her behind.
HISSS SWACK! Searing her mind.
HISSS SWACK! "UUUGGGGHHHHHHH"
HISSS SWACK! Misery
HISSS SWACK! "AAAAAAAAAAAAA" !!!!
HISSS SWACK! Suffering
HISSS SWACK! "OOOOOOOOOOOOO"
HISSS SWACK! Anguish
HISSS SWACK! "GGGGGGGGAAAAAAAA"
HISSS SWACK! Her ass was radioactive
HISSS SWACK! "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
HISSS SWACK! Her mind consumed with pain
HISSS SWACK! "WWWWOOOOooooooooooo"
HISSS SWACK! Excruciating pain.
HISSS SWACK! And shame.
"BOOOOOHOOOOO"
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa"
"gauddddddddddd"
He ceased striking the girl. She jerked rhythmically, as if
still being chastised. Gagged cries still coming in bursts,
then, slowly turning to sobs. Great shuddering sobs. He
plucked the socks out of her mouth. They were soaked. She drank
huge gasp of air. He lifted her chin and starred into her eyes.
Dazed and tear-filled her eyes could not yet absorb the image
before her. He waited.
God help me. Hurts so bad. I can't breath. Pain. My ass. It
seethes. It must be gone. Destroyed. Cut to ribbons. How
could I have been so stupid. Throbbing, pounding like a bass
drum. How could she feel it. There was nothing left. Couldn't
be. But the pain. It had to be there to hurt, didn't it.
(amputees know better) The burning. Need air. Heart pounding.
The raging fire. There's a shape. Flaring heat. Something
holding her chin. Boiling in her ass. Ok. Gonna live. Air,
lovely air. Heart slowing. That shape. Blinking. So many
tears. The suffering. Shape. Blinking. OH GOD! It's HIM.
The CEO. The one who ruined her derriere. Hurts so badly. He
was starring at her. Heat, so much heat. She blinked again, and
looked at HIM
There was condemnation in his eyes, nothing like how he looked at
Aunt Diane. Shame, her eyes filled with tears again.
He left her, and sat at his desk. He wanted her alert for the
next part. He wanted her to remember it for a long time. He
would leave her to recover her wits. To let the pain in her butt
simmer. Her next ordeal would set the stage for his relationship
with her. Besides, he was tired too. His arm felt like it would
fall off. He had to rest it for later. The young girl had many
trials yet remaining.
He watched her recovering. Ever so slowly her tears stopped.
Her breathing slowed. Her head hung down, the top resting on the
seat for a long time before she slowly lifted it up. He walked
over to her, her eyes opening widely, watching him. He lifted
her chin, and looked into her eyes again. The condemnation was
gone. But still his stare was hard. He brushed her hair from
her eyes.
"After I punish Miss Wilson, I always give her pleasure. That is
because she deserves such pleasure. You do not deserve to
receive such pleasure. Therefore, after you punishments you will
only receive more pain. This will be your ultimate punishment.
You will be used sexually, but painfully. Your own pleasure will
be carefully denied. Your use will be degrading and humiliating.
It will start now with your sodomy" He picked up the socks,
and replaced them in her mouth
Oh god. He was going to rape her. Rape her ass. She'd heard of
sodomy. She knew what it was. BUT NOBODY did that. Did they?
They couldn't. The opening was too small. And
besides..........
HOLY SHIT. Her ass was a throbbing, burning, area of pain. He
couldn't mean to mount her ass. It would be HORRIBLE. Her
buttocks were in ruins. To shove his cock up her ass, he would
have to grab them and open her. And when he was fucking her ass,
he would pound upon her bruised butt.
This was about punishment. He had no passion for this girl. He
was going to hurt the girl. But, this was going to hurt him too.
He wasn't going to lube her at all. Especially, not with her
cunt juice. He was going to drive himself viscously drive his
cock up her ass. He dropped his trousers again, and lined up
against her anus.
"IIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
He thrust into her asshole, forcing almost half his cock into the
tight opening. She nearly bucked him off and upset the chair.
He shoved a second time, seating himself a little deeper.
Another scream.
"AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
He continued to push deeper into the girl's tortured ass.
Thrusting hard, altering the angle to increase the torment.
Finally, he slammed his way fully into the girl's anus, his hips
contacting her tortured buttocks. She screamed each time he hit
bottom.
"AAHHH AAHHH AAAHHH AAAHHH AAAHHH AAAHHH", Anne screamed
every time he slammed into the butt. She felt like she was torn
apart. Her buttocks felt like they were being whipped again.
Her little anus ripped and burned. Pain. He was tearing her
apart. Agony. She must be ripped opened. Bleeding to death.
Excruciating pain. She couldn't get away. His torso beating her
abused buttocks. Torn asunder, ruined. His cock knifing thru
her intestines. Incredible anguish. Her rectum was split like a
melon. Opened as wide as a doorway. Consuming pain. Her cheeks
electrified, sparking each time they contacted his hips.
Horrors.
He pounded the girl's ass for only a few minutes, she was
incredibly tight. His penis was being abused with each stroke.
But he knew it was worse for the young secretary beneath him.
She would not soon forget this punishment. And that was the
point. He varied his attack on her asshole, jamming into all
corners of her rectum. He wanted this to be painful for the
entire act. No relaxing. No stimulation. No enjoyment for the
young thief. She would always hate anal sex, after this. The
memory would ruin any enjoyment of the act. And he would use her
exclusively this way. To remind her of her misdeeds. Her
screaming lessened. Time to finish, before it could change into
pleasure. He closed his eyes and thought of the future
punishments he would inflict on this girl. His orgasm built. He
thought of how he would whip her tits. Belts, paddles, maybe a
cane. Yes, he would enjoy her suffering. He reached forward and
grabbed her hair, pulling viscously back on her head. He came.
"NUUGGHH! NNUUGGHH! AARRGGHH.AARRGGHH..UUGGHH..UUGGHH".
'Hurts!' 'Hurts sooo baddd' The lower half of her body was a
mass of pain, fire, misery. Her mind was receiving more impulses
than it could handle. But they were all pain. She shook her
head continuously, trying to throw the signals out of her head.
But they kept coming. Pain. Pain. Pain. Then her head was jerked
up and back. She couldn't even shake away the pain.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii"
Her scream was long, descending slowly to a continuous moaning.
He slipped from her ass. He used her hair to wipe himself clean.
Her slumped head took little notice. Then he left her draped
over the armchair, still tightly tied. He retired to his
bathroom, where he showered.
Returning to the office, he checked on his secretary. At his
touch she opened her eyes. Her discomfort showed. He helped her
slowly to her feet, and held her steady a moment. Her breasts
were striped, and bruised. He reached to them, cupping them
lightly. She shuddered, her eyes blinking. The heat was almost
gone. He led her into the bath, and sat her on the stool.
Carefully, he applied lotion to the wounded mammaries. She
flinched at first, moaning as he touched her. He used lots of
lotion, only lightly massaging it into the surfaces. He heard
her breathing change slowly. He let his hands slip lower.
Her breast still hurt. But the throbbing was gone, and the
intense burning too. The ache was still pretty bad though. His
hands were barely contacting them. The lotion didn't help the
ache, but she knew it would help her skin not to split or peal.
She must be weird though, his caresses were having an effect on
her. Her breasts had always been sensitive, her masturbatory
key. But to be excited in their current state? She felt his
hand slide down her torso. Down, down to her thighs, her knees.
Oh. Yes, it was stimulating. He toyed with the inside of her
knees, the ticklish skin in the crook of the bend. Then slowly
his hands spread them. They caressed the insides of her thighs.
Slowly, they creep upward. Still slippery with the lotion, they
insisted she open wider. Then she saw his head lower. Felt his
breath on her skin.
He reached out his tongue, lightly tasting the upper insides of
her thighs. So soft. His tongue snaked slowly up. Up till it
tickled her blonde fur covering her pussy, back to her thighs,
following the Vee up to her waist. Tapping dots of moisture
across her lower belly to her naval, then, diving in, as if
digging for the last honey in the jar. He lifted her leg onto
his shoulders, his tongue on a southern trek now. Lightly the
tongue parted the folds on the way down, then reversing course,
flattening, to cover as much territory on the return trip.
Flicking lightly over her clitoris, then back down again. It
disappeared suddenly.
The CEO sucked lightly on the lips of her sex. They were oozing
her juice. Tasty. He stabbed lightly at her hole with his
tongue, purposefully aiming slightly left, right, down, and up
from the center. He sucked lightly again. Then his tongue,
taking a long slow lick up, catching her clit on the base and
sliding the length across the sensitive bud. He kissed the mound
above it, the dived back below. Again, he sucked the lips into
his mouth. More demandingly this time, pulling gently, his
tongue swabbing the captured flesh. Then the other side.
Sucking, pulling, bathing the flesh.
Heaven, she was in heaven. The tongue was driving her toward
orgasm. Teasing her clit. Stimulating her labia. Diving again
into her vaginal opening. Her hips were moving now. Slowly
circling in a lopsided way. Moving up and down as much as
around. Like an old warped phonograph. Up and down and around,
yet spiraling ever higher. This tongue was talented, and cruel.
It stimulated a place, then left it before it could send an
overload signal. It raised her libido higher and higher. Her
hips pushed up more than around now. She started moaning.
"Please," his tongue was on her lips now. "OH!" Sliding down
to her perineum. "AH!" Back up the other labia. Sucking
vigorously, "More", biting gently. "Yes!" Darting into her
cunt. "Please" Twirling, licking. "Guh" Probing. "OOHH"
Withdrawing. "NO!" The tongue slipping upward. "OH" Swabbing
her clit. "SS...' Then sucking it firmly. "..HI...". A light
firm bite. "..TTTTT"
And a tiny shake.
"OH GOOODDDD" Her body went rigid as the orgasm poured over
her. His busy tongue tasted her nectar, working madly to get it
all. It prolonged her orgasm, making her thrash for long seconds
before slumping on the throne.
He slowly raised his head, then, lowered her legs. God she
tasted wonderful. He held her till she regained her composure.
Then he stood, opened the shower door, and adjusted the water.
Removing his cloths, he took her hand, and led her into the
shower. Gently, he washed her, using extreme care on her
breasts. Only his hands touched her there.
He turned off the water, and led her out. Carefully he dried her
with one of the fluffy towels, before drying himself again. Then
he took her in his arms and kissed her.
They returned to the office. He handed her dress to her. There
was no way she could wear a bra and she had not worn panties
today. She slipped it on, and he motioned to the couch. She
walked over and collapsed onto it, watching while he dressed.
He returned to the lavatory, and came back with a couple of damp
cloths. The first he used one to clean Miss Dragert's ass. He
was not overly gentle. Then he used the other to wash her face,
and wipe some of the sweat from her body. He disposed of both
cloths in the restroom. Then he returned and started to untie
the young girl. She barely moved throughout the process. Once
free, he pulled her to her feet, and held her at arms length till
she could stand by herself.
"Put your hands on your head, and spread you legs." he ordered.
Anne complied. More humiliation, they were both dressed now, but
she was still naked and made to stand in this humiliating
position. Totally exposed.
Mr. Young returned to the business items on his desk. He had
several things he had wanted to finish today, and this diversion,
though stimulating, had interrupted them. He worked for nearly
an hour. Reading a report, and jotting notes as he went. He
made a telephone call, but the party he was trying to contact had
obviously left. He got no answer. He glared at Miss Dragert.
She knew he was angry he had been too late to complete his call.
"Miss Wilson,", he called. "Get your pad. I need to send a
letter."
Diane rose, and went to her desk. She soon returned with her
pad, grabbed her stool, and placed it near the desk, opposite her
niece. She carefully lifted the back of her dress, and settled
her flesh on the stool. He began his dictation, rambling on for
sometime.
He finished, "Sincerely, my name etc. etc.. Miss Wilson, please
type that up now so it can be on his desk first thing Monday.
Diane hurried off to her desk. Mr. Young having nothing to do
while he waited, simple starred at the naked girl before him.
"Today's punishment is not yet complete." He stated. "However,
since it is Friday, I have decided to further your chastisement
in a more relaxed setting. You and Miss Wilson will accompany me
to me to my home for the weekend. There we shall begin you
training. For now maybe we should make your rules list. Go to
Miss Wilson's desk and get a spare pad, and pen."
Anne dropped her arms. Thank god. They were so stiff, unused to
that position. She took two steps. '"Oh' her but was stiff too.
She walked into the outer office, her nudity truly hit home.
She asked her aunt for a pad and pen. Then she returned to the
office. He motioned her to the stool. 'NOOOO' she couldn't sit
down. Especially not on at flat, hard, wooden stool. She walked
to it. It was tall, reaching almost to her navel. She reversed
herself. It touched the small of her back. She placed a foot on
the lower rung, and pushed herself up onto the seat.
"OOOWWWWW", she jumped off immediately, dropping the pen and pad
and reaching for her wounded buttocks. But she didn't quite
touch them. Her hands fluttered, wanting to soothe them, but not
wanting to hurt them more.
He was watching her. She drew her hand away, then forced herself
to stoop and gather up the writing materials. Then she stood
hesitating, but knowing she would have to try again. She could
not see sympathy in his eyes. Only determination, ordering her
to assume the seat.
She positioned herself for another try. Saying a silent prayer
she hooked a foot on the rung and pushed up again. 'Oh SHIT' she
screamed silently. She used her feet on the rungs and a hand at
the back of the stool to lift her butt up. Barely touching the
stool she stayed that way for nearly a minute. Then feeling the
rung biting into her feet, and her arm tiring, she slowly lowered
more of her weight onto her flayed fanny.
Mr. Wilson watched her gyrations with inner glee. She deserved
it, and he enjoyed the suffering as well. But he gave no outward
sign except that of command. He watched the oscillation as she
tried to lower her painful buttocks, then raised slightly when it
became too much. Lower, she was almost fully seated.
"Rule one!.", he sharply announced.
She dropped to the seat with a gasp of pain, trying to get the
pad opened and positioned. She leaned and shifted trying to find
a less painful contact with the stool.
"When you are called to take dictation, you will enter, remove
all your clothes then close the door. You will bring the stool
into view of my desk, and sit down on it.", he continued. She
was hastily scribbling trying to get this down. She was wiggling
in the seat so much; he doubted she would be able to read
anything she wrote anyway. "Then you will place your heels on
the top rung, on opposite sides of the stool." Her jaw had
dropped at these words, her pen ceasing.
"Yes. Two legs of the stool between your feet." He paused. She
finally turned back to the pad, finishing his words. He waited,
she looked up expectantly, waiting for more. He was looking at
her funny. Penetratingly. Why. What........ 'Shit' He meant
now. She had to spread herself obscenely on the stool. He was
humiliating her, demanding complete surrender of her private
areas. In addition, she knew in her present condition, it would
cause the pain in her ass to increase. Slowly she moved one foot
right of the stool leg beside it. The pain showed on her face.
She took a deep breath, trying to absorb the increased impulses
from her butt. She lifted her leg up, up to hooked her foot on
the top rung. Her knee came up just below her breasts. Tears
formed in her eyes. The ass hurt terribly, and she was exposing
her pussy. Her face burned with shame. Yet his eyes commanded
more. Full compliance.
She moved her other leg. With the other one so high, it placed
her full weight on her ass. The tear broke free, running down
her face. It hurt so badly. She couldn't do it. Her eyes
begged for release. But his remained impassive. Penetrating.
Demanding. She forced her foot to continue. Up and over. Past
the leg. A sharp intake of breath, as a particularly intense
nerve impulse fired her brain. Her eyes closed, she pursed her
lips and exhaled, as though trying to blow the pain from her body.
Higher she raised her foot. The heel banged into the rung. God
she had to go higher. She lifted more, the foot sliding back
onto the rung. Agony. She was in agony. Every nerve in the ass
was screaming at her. She tried to shift her butt around. She
had no leverage. She couldn't move a little, it only moved the
bones over the muscles causing severe pains. And if she moved a
lot, she would fall off the stool.
They both waited, him for her to settle and return her attention
to the dictation. Her for the pain to diminish to a bearable
level. Slowly, it did. Her mind finally made ready to accept
other things than the pain.
"Oh God", she moaned. She realized how exposed she was. She
positively gapped. Her whole pussy was on display. Her lips
were pulled apart, and hung down slightly. The opening to her
vagina was round and wide. He must be able to see clear inside
her. The way her knees pushed her up and back, even her asshole
must be visible, or nearly so. The slowing tears flowed again.
Why oh why had she accepted this option. Why oh why had she
committed the thefts.
He gave her another minute to reflect, and simmer down.
"When you are privileged to take notes or dictation in this
office, this will be your position. You shall take it without
hesitation, or complaint. Do you understand" he asked
She looked up and slowly shook her head. But she could see that
wasn't good enough.
"Yes Sir.", she said softly. Still he waited. She understood.
She cleared her throat and added aloud, "Yes Sir"
"Good" he said. "Rule Two. You will always sit with you flesh
touching the seat, whether in this office, at your desk, in a
car, or even at home alone. Your butt wounded or not, must feel
the caress of the seat. Always, regardless of venue or company.
Is that clear?
"Yes Sir", she replied. Even in public, she would have to sit in
this humiliating fashion.
"Further, if you are allowed panties, they must be drawn below
the knees, when sitting, and held there firmly with only your
legs. No hands. No support. Only you're spread legs. When you
are not wearing panties, you thighs must never touch. At no
point from your knee to your cunt, can the flesh meet.
Is this clear?"
"Yes Sir", she said more dejectedly. This was awful. She was at
his complete mercy. He could make her just walk around naked.
He might as well be.
"Are you getting this down? I expect you to type it up, and
expect there to be no errors", he interluded.
"Yes Sir."
Rule Three. You will ask permission to use the bathroom. Either
I or Miss Wilson must approve your need, before you can be given
relief. At work, or home. Or wherever. If we are not with you
must telephone for permission, but you may telephone only when we
are not nearby. Any failure will be punished severely.
"You will be punished for your crime nearly every day. In
addition, you will be punished for demerits you receive." If you
receive demerits and I must administer them you will be given 15
stokes for my trouble before I apply the demerits. Demerits will
be given for the following:" Drawing a sheet from his desk, he
read"
1 demerit For failure or hesitation to follow any order
or command from myself or Miss Wilson.
1 demerit For each error in a document caught by Miss Wilson or
myself. A 25 demerit penalty if reported by recipient. And you
will ask for the document to be faxed or returned so errors can
be counted. I will brag of, and wager against your perfection to
my clients and other employees, so they will be eager to report
them.
2 demerits For failure to greet an employee or client.
Regardless of location.
2 demerits Each time I find you with your legs crossed or you
feet other than flat on the floor, unless the do
not reach it. Heel and ball both touching the floor.",
Mr. Young continued. "You will receive a
demerit for each, if both are in violation at the same time."
10 demerits Each 5 minutes you are late for work. Your start
time will be 7:30
10 demerits Late from lunch. For each 5 minutes you are late.
10 demerits Skirt less that 4 inches above knee. If I have to
measure and it's close, demerits will be awarded. One inch may
be added for each 4 inches of slits over 12 inches total. Up to
two slits may be counted.
10 demerit Failure to wear stockings
10 demerits Wearing pantyhose, or other garment or material
covering the sex except panties. If it is a 'No Panties" day or
period the demerits will be tripled.
10 demerits If panties slip below 1" from knees when wearing them
in my car.
10demerits Failure to show adequate cleavage. I will be the
sole judge on this
10 demerits Inadequate makeup Again, my sole discretion.
10 demerits Failure to complete a document on time.
25 demerits Failure to complete as assignment on time.
25 demerits Caught sitting on skirt where requirement of flesh to
seat or when designated other.
30 demerits Using the
bathroom without receiving permission.
40 demerits Not getting bathroom permission in time and
having an accident.
50 demerits Missing work for any reason excused or not. This is
to compensate me for having to use a temp. This is an example of
a special punishment.
100 demerits Alcohol on breathe, or evidence or indulgence
during working hours
100 demerits breaking of a preset after hours 'date.
250 demerits For Exhibition or and other public sexually
related activity without my
Escort or permission. This is for your safety. "
He had read the list fairly rapidly. Anne wrote furiously.
Trying desperately to keep up and get it all. He allowed her to
finish her compilation. He stood and walked around his desk, to
stand before her. He held out his hand.
"Close your pad and hand it to Me.", he said "On Monday, I expect
you to type this up, in triplicate. Also include an alphabetical
cross reference for easy referral to the demerits. I expect it
to be complete, and correct.
About that time Diane returned with the letter for Mr. Young's
signature. Mr. Young took it and sat at his desk. He read it
carefully, but found no errors. He signed it and passed it to
Miss Wilson. She had the envelope and neatly folded and stuffed
it in. She licked it closed.
"We'll mail that on the way home." said the CEO. He picked up
the younger girls blouse and skirt. He plucked 3 buttons off the
blouse. Then taking his letter opener, he forced it into the
side seam of the skirt about half way up. The thread broke. He
worked the letter opener down, pulling the thread from the seam,
stitch by stitch. Then he did the same on the other side. When
he finished, he threw the clothes to the naked girl on the
stool.
"Get dressed. We're going home."
Anne was relieved. The ordeal was over. She could go home and
soak in the tub. Have the weekend to soothe her wounded ass.
Two days of peace and quiet.
"Miss Wilson, You will drive Miss Dragert's car, and follow me.
Miss Dragert, you will ride with me. You will spend the weekend
training for you new position as well as continuing your
punishment. But first we will stop at your apartment, Miss
Dragert. I will pick some clothes for you to wear on Monday, and
we will prepare things to move you to Miss Wilson's. You will
live with her, when you're not serving me."
Anne was dressed. With only the zip and the button of the skirt
and 2 buttons on the blouse didn't take long. Mr. Young motioned
to the door and Diane lead the parade out of the office and down
the hall. The security officer was coming around the corner as
they reached the elevator.
"Good evening, Alan" said the CEO.
"Good evening Sir" said the older executive assistant.
The executive prodded Anne's arm. She looked at him, He nodded
indicating the officer.
"Hello", Anne added remembering the list of demerits.
Alan drank in the site of the females. The older woman was
beautiful. Her dress was pleasingly short, and hugged her body
nicely. The neckline provided a nice deep vee of cleavage and
suggestion of her substantial bosom. She must be wearing
underwear, but it sure didn't look like it. She reached for the
elevator button, and when she straightened up there was just the
suggestion of a jiggle to her breasts. Was she really braless?
Then he looked at the younger woman. Mr. Young had her by the
upper arm. There was no doubt that she was braless. The blouse
was thin enough to show one, and none was present. Besides he
could see her erect nipples against the material, and the darker
shadow of the areolas. The blouse was unbuttoned deeply, showing
the slopes of her breasts too. Her skirt was a little longer
than the assistants, but both sides were slit well up her thighs.
Was that a thread hanging from one of them?
"Did you require any further assistance from me Mr. Young, Sir."
There was something here; he knew it, just what he didn't know.
"Well, now that you mention it,", Mr. Young said, thinking on his
feet. A little more humiliation for the girl? "You can escort
Miss Dragert to the secretarial pool, and watch while she cleans
out her desk. Then escort her to her car and help her load the
items into it. Then escort her to your office, and give here a
seat. Miss Wilson and I are going to dinner. We will return
forthwith, and go from there. If she has anything to say, please
take careful notes, but don't push or interrogate her. Other
than that, be civil, and friendly. Of course, your discretion is
of the utmost importance."
Anne was crushed. She was being turned over to security. Despite
all she'd been thru, she was going to be prosecuted, sent to
jail. The jump out of the secretarial pool was yanked away. She
would lose her job after all.
Alan knew it. She was being fired. And there was more. And he
would get to find out what. He would get to be there when she
broke, and spilled the story. But somehow he knew this was
different. Something wasn't right about clearing her desk, then
going to the office. And why could it wait till the CEO had
dinner. Why didn't he just leave it to Alan to take care of.
He could report it all to the CEO on Monday, and any necessary
charges could be filed, though the doubted that would happen.
Despite the occasional dishonest employee, he had never heard of
any of them being charged legally.
Mr. Young held the young woman out to the security man. Alan had
never physically touched a employee, even though he had escorted
several from the building. Any employee leaving was watched.
Mostly to make sure they didn't take any company secrets, or
other employee's personal items. Yet, Mr. Young held the girl
out to him as if she were a rebellious child. He finally reached
up and took the girl's other bicep, and held it lightly. He
didn't want a harassment charge, or anything.
The elevator reached the lobby. Mr. Young led his secretary
toward the stairs. Alan followed. His eyes followed the
executive assistant's ass. Gorgeous, her hips swayed
seductively. The muscles of her ass flexed and rolled even more
erotically. The 'boss' was very lucky to have that working for
him. Able to watch it each and every day. And maybe even
getting a little on the side, so to speak. Right, in this day of
sexual harassment suits.
Yet, it occurred to him that something was going on here. Was
the top dog getting a top piece at work? Hmmmm.
Anne was beside herself. The man's grip on her arm wasn't that
strong. But, it did brush the side of her breast. But he was
taking her to jail. She knew that was the ultimate end to this
walk. The tears filled her eyes, slowly sliding down alternate
cheeks.
Alan watched the CEO leave. Then he turned and led the girl to
the pool area.
"What's your name,", he asked.
"Aanne", she stammered.
"Well Anne, which was your desk", the security man queried.
She pointed and he led her that way, allowing her to guide them
to the correct spot.
"Ok Miss," he said, releasing her arm. "Gather up you stuff."
He turned and looked around. Yep there were some office supplies
in an open cupboard against the wall. He went over and found a
nearly empty box. Empting the contents, he took it back to the
girl. She didn't have much. When she finished the box was less
than half full. The purse took up a substantial portion.
"My coat is over there." she said as she pointing to the hooks at
the back of the room. They retrieved her coat, then headed back
for the lobby. He followed her now, not holding her arm as she
carried the box. Outside the building, the wind toyed with her
skirt. He moved offline, to the side of her path. He had better
view of her legs. The wind was from his side and slightly
behind, blowing the front flap forward and overlapping the front
of her thigh. Nice legs. To bad this one wouldn't be around to
try to get to know better.
She reached the car, stooping to place the box on the ground
behind it. The back of her skirt fell away, exposing the lower
curve of her thigh. She rose and unlocked the trunk. Stooping
down again, the skirt repeating the view, she picked up the box.
She stood and reached the box into the trunk. She tried to set
it down gently, leaning in.
She suddenly realized her skirt was rising dangerously.
As she reached into the trunk her skirt rose up her thighs. He
was going to get a nice view of her legs. Her butt was pushing
out the skirt nicely. The gust came, stronger that any yet. It
lifted the loose back of her skirt.
'Holly shit!' thought Alan. The slut didn't have any panties on.
Her naked ass had been visible for only a second or two, but it
was unmistakable.
Anne stood up as quickly as possible, but the wind had already
released her skirt. Her cheeks burned. She'd been exposed to
this security person. He must think her a slut too. It was
obvious she didn't have a bra on, but now it was equally obvious
she had not panties either. The tears again leaked down her
cheeks.
Alan was bolder now. He took a firm hold of the girl's arm as he
lead her back to the building. He decided to play with her a
little. He led her in the main door, walking up to the security
person at the main desk.
"Hello, Phil.", he said. "Things quieting down?"
"Yes Sir." Phil replied, eying the girl in his boss's possession.
"All in order." Her nipples were plainly evident, and that
skirt. It swished enticingly as she walked.
"Great. Should be a quiet one. Friday's usually are. No one
wants to be here on Friday." Alan continued, "I'll be in my
office if you need me. Some matters I have to take care of.
Forms, and reports and all." He gave a look to the girl in his
hand, conveying that it was this girl that the paperwork was
about. "Have a good one" he added, and lead Anne away.
Anne tears continued. They were going to ridicule her before the
entire staff, one by one. How had she ever gotten into this.
Alan took a circuitous route to his office. He was sure she
didn't know where it was. He hoped to happen upon other security
people. He could feel the girl's humiliation. Maybe a little
more and she would break before Mr. Young returned. Delivering
the full story to the CEO would be a feather in his cap he was
sure. That the whole story was known, and orchestrated by the
CEO he hadn't a clue. He finally led her into the Security Area,
then into his office. He grabbed a chair from the wall and moved
it closer to his desk, then turned her to it. She just stood
there. He walked around his desk and sat down.
"You may sit down, Miss."
"I'd rather not, Sir" said the girl.
"Please, sit." he told her. "It will be some time before they
return, you know."
Alan could she the girl was upset and concerned with her
situation. But the way she eyed the chair showed raw fear. Like
it was an electric chair or something. She fidgeted, feet
shifting idly. Finally, as if in slow motion she lowered herself
to the chair. She then shocked him. She lifted the back of the
skirt, holding it out of the way till she had her butt near the
chair and the skirt out of the way. Then she moved both hands to
support her the last few inches, which took seconds. Her eyes
looked pained. And a muffled gasp escaped her lips. 'What the
hell'
Alan shifted paper around his desk. He tried to find something
to work on, but his eyes kept coming back the girl before him.
Her blouse was opened showing the creAnne swelling of each breast.
Her nipples, though not as prominent as earlier were pressed
against the material. The semi sheer fabric, hinted at the shape
and form of her tits. Her skirt though not excessively short,
was pulled high on her thighs; by the way she had pulled the back
away to sit on her bare behind. She was. He'd seen her lack of
underwear. Her naked ass had to be touching the seat of the
chair. What a slut. Did she get off on her pussy sticking to
the plastic? Or did she slide herself on cloth seats to
stimulate her. And her legs, they were parted. Not crossed as
most women sat. Not even together. Parted, showing her inner
thighs to. Well the darkness at the end of that tunnel had to be
her sex, her cunt.
But the most interesting of all was the woman's face. It was a
myriad of emotions. Tears filled her eyes. Shame he was sure,
but pain too. Physical pain. He had held her arm firmly, but
not that firmly. She wouldn't even have a bruise, let alone
something to cry about. No she was feeling pain elsewhere. Her
cheeks were pink. Embarrassment. But why embarrassment. If she
was shy about the way she sat, why sit like that, not that he
minded. Fear. In the depth of her eyes he could sense fear.
Was she in that much trouble. They never did more than fire
someone, yet he could sense her real fear. More than just loss
of her job. There was more too. A little arousal maybe. Well
the way she was flaunting herself, she must be aroused. But,
still other emotions ran across her face.
He forced himself to concentrate on a report, ignoring the girl.
After awhile the tears flowed heavier. Then, she started to sob
quietly. He asked if she wanted to talk about it. She shook her
head violently, and a haunted look came over her eyes. This was
going to be a good one. Her sobs slowly increased in intensity.
She was mumbling softly. He pricked up his ears, trying to catch
words, but he wasn't sure she was coherent either.
"I don't want to go to jaillll!" she suddenly burst out. "Please
don't let him send me to jail." She broke into uncontrollable
sobbing. Her breast shook enticingly.
"It can't be that bad.", he said as he walked to a table and
brought her a box of tissues. "The company has never pressed
charges that I know of. Why don't you tell me about it."
Her sobs only increased. How could she tell him anything? She'd
have to tell him the whole story. She couldn't do that! She
could only sit and cry.
She'd almost spilled it all, whatever it was. Darn. Presently,
he returned to his desk and the report, though he still stopped
from time to time to ogle the beauty before him. Time passed.
Suddenly, there was the buzz of the security room doorbell. He
reached for the controller and turned on the monitor, switching
to the correct feed. He touched the intercom button.
"Who is it", though he already knew.
"Alan, its Mr. Young, and Miss Wilson.", the CEO announced. Alan
was following procedure. He knew he appeared on the closed
circuit monitor, but Alan feigned ignorance of their identity. A
good man though, regardless of the circumstances. It was a shame
to keep him in the dark. He would have to do something nice for
him. Hmmmm.
The door buzzed. The CEO pulled it open and guided Miss Wilson
into the department and into Alan's office. Alan was pulling
chairs up next to the sitting Anne. The executive nodded to the
chairs. Miss Wilson took the hint and took the chair by Anne. As
she sat, she lifted the back of her dress to place her bareness
to the seat.
Alan watched the executive's assistant complete the same skirt
ritual as she sat. Was she as bare under her dress as the
younger girl?
"I'm afraid I haven't learned much, sir." reported the security
man. "Just that what ever it is she's afraid she headed for
jail. Other than that, all she's done is cry."
"Alan, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for your silence in
this matter for the time being." the executive told him. The
final disposition of this matter is still under consideration.
Until I reach a decision, I'm afraid it must be kept secret. Can
I count on your cooperation, Alan?"
"Of course, sir.", the disappointed security man said. He had
looked forward to the interrogation of the girl; sure it would be
filled with tears, anguish, and shame for the child. Things he
enjoyed seeing.
To say nothing of the many mysteries that had arisen since he was
called by the big boss.
"You can count on me sir."
"I knew I could. That's why I allowed you the glimpse of this
sweet young thing. Once my decision is final, you will be the
first to learn the full story", he said. Probably the only one
too, he didn't add.
"Now, I believe it's time to leave. Why don't you take Miss
Dragert to my car? She seems to be too distraught to drive."
"Miss Dragert, give your keys to Miss Wilson. She will drive you
car."
Anne was elated. They weren't going to call the police. They
weren't going to send her to jail. Wouldn't ridicule her before
the employees. Wouldn't leave her without a job. On at least
one of these points she would be mistaken. She gave the keys to
her aunt. The security man held out his hand to take procession
of her. She stood, and he again grabbed her bicep.
"Alan, maybe you should restrain your prisoner. ", the CEO
suddenly interjected. Three heads snapped to face the head of
the company, their mouths agape. "Please cuff her hand behind
her back"
Alan hesitated for just a second. Then he had to open a cupboard
to get a pair of cuffs. They didn't carry them here. They were
out of sight in various lock boxes, and drawers in key areas, but
not worn by the security personnel. He applied the cuff
loosely, and made to pocket the dangling key.
"Why don't you give that to me, Alan.", said Mr. Young, holding
out his hand. He had keys to the company's cuffs, but needed to
get this one for his next statement. Why don't you drop by
Sunday about 1:00pm to pick them up? Come for dinner. You're
off aren't you?"
'Ah ha', Alan thought as he handed over the key. He would get to
find out what was going on. But he would have to wait till
Sunday. "Yes sir, I have Sunday evening off. Dinner would be
splendid." And having been asked if he had the day off (his
afternoon shifts) he knew it would be more than just dinner.
They filed out of the office, and out to the cars. Mr. Young
headed for the drivers side and tapped his remote. Alan, still
holding Anne by the arm pulled the latch and opened the other
door. He helped the girl sit in the seat, guiding her head to
avoid the top. A sharp intake of breath accompanied her
connection with the leather. As she swung her legs to the front,
she made a audible moan. Her skirt was all twisted by her
actions. Alan had a bold idea. He reached in and pulled her
skirt trying to straighten it. He saw the girl glance in the
direction of the boss. Then she arched up lifting her derriere
off the seat. Alan straightened the skirt and smoothed it down,
feeling the girls legs. He withdrew his hands. The girl
maintained her arched position. ??????
"Her flesh must touch the seat, Alan.", the voice from the
drivers seat said. "Lift her skirt so she can sit properly.
He knew it. Somehow it was a requirement for the women. He
reached in and slid his hand along the backs of the girls thighs,
pulling the skirt upward. Along her thighs, and a over her
buttocks. Her ass cheeks were textured, and just slightly warmer
than her thighs. Intriguing! Especially the look on her face,
as he bunched the skirt in the small of her back. She was
mortified. Her blush burst into her cheeks and down her neck.
Intriguing! She lowered her buttocks to the seat, more carefully
this time. Only a touch of discomfort showed in her eyes.
Politely, he tried to straighten the front of her skirt, but it
would only cover a few inches of her thighs. Then he reached for
the seatbelt, and pulled it across her chest. He clicked it then
followed the strap across her chest, running his fingers lightly
between it and her blouse. He was looking into her eyes the
whole time, watching her changing emotion. Embarrassment,
thanks, arousal?
Thank you, Alan. See you Sunday, 1:00pm sharp." Alan closed the
door and watched as the two cars left the parking lot.
Amy eyes opened slowly. She blinked. Where was she? Oh yes,
she remembered now, the discovery, the spanking, the humiliating
exit from the company offices. Then their visit to her
apartment, and finally the humiliating arrival at the mansion.
She had been stripped and then escorted to this room. They tied
her to the bed, arms and legs spread, a single sheet covering
her, and the lights doused. How she had cried herself to sleep.
She raised her head to examine the room. Beige walls, a large
dresser, a closet. Two doors, one she had entered thru, the
other probably a bathroom. That was it. No sign of anything
showing use. The closet empty, as was the top of the dresser.
She lowered her head again. What was going to happen to her?
After a while, without anything to occupy her, she dozed
lightly.
A lock was being used. She heard the tumblers click, then the
key sliding out. The door to the room opened. The CEO stood in
the doorway. Her Aunt entered. She was dressed in a diaphanous
long robe, underneath could be seen a beautiful, blue negligee.
Her Aunt came and sat on the bed.
"I have been appointed your guardian and mentor." her aunt began,
as she began loosening the bonds hold the girl to the bed.
"I will be your sponsor for your training and therefore your
performance. Since this means that I will be responsible for
your success and your failure. Therefore, I cannot allow your
failure, so I will have to be a severe taskmaster, to ensure your
success. Understand, if I receive punishment for your actions,
you will be repaid double.
I did not ask for this, but it cannot be changed."
"Now When we are here at Master's home, (Yes he is your Master
now) you will fill the position of maid or serving girl. You
will be given appropriate clothing when you are allowed such
privilege You will serve in that respect unless you are
receiving you punishment. You will serve similarly for me when
we are not here at the mansion."
"Now it is time to get up. Your first training is that you will
rise promptly at 5:45 am daily. You will take 15 minutes to
bathe, apply your makeup, dress, and tidy you room. Then, you
will report to the kitchen. There you will help the cook with
breakfast, in any way she requests. Breakfast is at 6:15
precisely, so you will have to work quickly to set the table
etc.. At 6:30, you will be allowed 5 minutes to feed yourself.
Then you will clear the table etc.. On work days, you will
change quickly, and we will leave for the office at 6:45. If you
are at my apartment, you will prepare our breakfast, serve and
clear, and wash and dry the dishes. We will leave at 6:45 from
there too."
"Your clothes will be picked for you each day, often from a menu
sheet. You will have to keep you clothes clean and well pressed,
in order to have them available. Failure to wear the designated
clothes, or dirty, wrinkled or slovenly attire or appearance will
be severely punished."
"You will follow every order of Mr. Young, myself, or the staff.
Hesitation, refusal, or complaint will be dealt with accordingly.
Do you have any questions?"
Amy shook her head. She was going to be a servant, a simple
indentured servant, working off her sentence. How medieval.
Her aunt released her binding. "Ok, its 6:07, you're already
late. I'll take you to report to the cook. See if you can earn
the privilege of clothes, before the weekend is out."
What! She had to earn clothes. She had to be naked, before not
only the CEO and her aunt, but the house staff. How many were
there? Damn. Damn. Damn. But what choice did she have.
Amy rose from the bed. The discomfort in her buttocks added a
new thought. Her buttocks were bruised, welted. Everyone would
see the evidence of her chastisement.
Diane gave her no time for thought. She walked out of the room
and took the arm of the fully dressed CEO. They headed for the
kitchen. Amy ran to catch up. They walked through the halls and
down the stairs. When they entered the kitchen, the cook looked
up. It was obvious what she though of intruders into her domain.
"This thief is working off her crime.", the CEO made clear Amy's
status. "She will report to you 15 minute before meals. She
will set and serve, and do anything else you need while in your
domain. As you can see she has to earn her keep here. If she
serves you well, I wish to know of it. If she does not, I wish
to know as well. You will have the option of administering any
punishment she earns during her time in your domain. She all
yours for the next hour. Will breakfast be on time?"
"Of course, Sir." the cook replied. "unless this waif commits
some grievous error.
The CEO nodded, then took the arm of her aunt and left the
kitchen
"Well missy," the cook said as she flipped a pancake. "Get to
it. Plates etc. are in the cupboard to the right of the door.
Service for two. Silver's in the drawers below, and clean
tablecloths below that. Change the linen, and set the table.
Juice glass, milk glass, as well as cup and saucer. And
grapefruit spoons. Then fill the syrup pitchers. You'll find
them in the cupboard to the left. Place them on the table, along
with the butter dishes you'll find in the fridge. A pitcher of
milk too. Then fill the coffee server, and place it on the side
counter. You can handle that when everyone is seated.".... "Go"
Amy hurried to carry out the orders. The tablecloths were
pressed she saw. And there, beside them, linen napkins, severely
creased. Ok got it. She took them to the dining room and
changed the table covering. The service. In addition to the
plates, she added a bread plate. Silver at each place. Should
she place an extra fork? Better safe than sorry. Glasses, cups,
and saucers. She took the napkins and tucked the flaps making
them stand on the plates like she saw in one restaurant. Filled
the coffee pot, filled the syrup pitcher, topped of the milk
pitcher, and set the butter down. Butter knives, she rushed back
for them. As she returned she saw them enter the room. Her aunt
was in a lovely print sundress, the hem well above her knees.
She placed the knife then snapped to attention. Shit. It hit
her again. She was naked. The diners were well dressed, and she
was serving them breakfast, NAKED.
The CEO helped his guest into a seat, and then sat himself. He
looked up at Amy expectantly. THE FOOD. Amy practically tripped
as she rushed to the kitchen. The cook was just inside the door,
with a covered tray, a smirk on her face.
"Coffee is usually poured first at breakfast, dear." said the
cook as she passed the tray. Amy was stunned, an error already.
She worked so hard to set everything right, then she forgot to
pour coffee. Damn. She had to be perfect. She had to earn some
clothing. She carried the tray to the table placing it between
the two. Then she grabbed the coffee pot and poured, careful to
serve from the left and take from the right. That was the way it
was supposed to be done, wasn't it. Then she stood against the
side counter, and waited to serve their needs.
The girl was trying. He could see the defeat in her eyes as she
brought the pancakes to the table, and then poured the coffee.
Backwards, but correctly presented. He would not count this
miscue. He had more than enough to punish her for. Besides,
being served by a naked slave girl was more interesting than
keeping score. As they finished eating, he addressed the naked
girl.
"When you've eaten, and finished the dishes, report to me in the
study.", he said. He dropped his napkin in his plate and stood.
Taking the hand of the older secretary, he retired from the
dining room.
Amy hurriedly cleared the table, stacking everything neatly by
the sink. Even changing the linen tablecloth. The table looked
plain, so she set 4 plates, silver and glasses, as if for a light
meal. When she returned to the kitchen she saw the cook sitting
in an alcove eating breakfast. She saw a second plate set beside
her, with three large pancakes. She approached.
"Go ahead", the cook said with a laugh. "We won't starve you."
Amy hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. She plopped into the
chair. 'OH' she had forgotten her wounded bottom. But she dived
into the meal, with gusto. The juice was excellent, fresh
squeezed. And the pancakes were delicious. Light, fluffy, and
so good. She drank two whole glasses of milk.
The cook watched her with amusement. This was a new experience
for her too. The staff had all been called together last night
to learn of their new boarder. Miss Wilson, had stayed overnight
before, and the staff had some idea of the games she played with
Mr. Young. But now they learned that there would be a more
public example of his preferences.
"Run along, missy.", said the cook when she finished. "I suspect
today will be a long one for you. You'd best get started." She
chuckled lightly.
Amy left the kitchen, and wandered down the hall, looking for the
study. She found it. She knocked lightly on the doorjamb. When
her employer looked up, she said. "You wanted to see me sir."
"Yes my dear. Come in. Stand here in front of me." She
approached and stopped before his chair.
"We will commence with your training.", the seated man said, as
he examined the nude before him. "When ever you stand before me,
and have not yet be given an order, you shall stand with your
hands behind your back clasping one wrist with the other hand.
Your feet will be shoulder width apart." You shall take this
position, dressed or undressed. Here, at work, or anywhere you
are called into my presence.
Amy moved her legs apart, and placed her hands behind her. She
saw his eyes check the veer of her sex, then up to check the way
her breast were thrust forward.
"Then we have some positions, which will facilitate your
presence, punishment or exposure. When you are told to kneel,
you will kneel with your knees shoulder width apart, and your
butt resting on your heels. Your back must be straight and your
hand behind your back, do so now."
Amy knelt. It wasn't bad except her heels dug into her bruised
bottom.
"Kneel up, means to rise off your heels, straightening your
entire body from knee to head. 'Attention', chest out stomach in
and all that. And you will place your hands on top of your head.
Fingers interlaced. Kneel up now"
Amy took the ordered position. She noticed that her aunt was
listening closely.
"Arch your back more. This is a present position to show off
your chest and narrow belly. And push your butt out more.
Display your assets, Miss Dragger.
Amy blushed slightly at the thought of displaying her naked body
more than it already was. But she moved to comply.
"Please list and demonstrate your positions so far."
Amy jump to her feet. "Present", she said, and parted her legs
and clasped her hands behind her. She waited a moment. "Kneel."
She dropped to her knees, resting on her heels. "Kneel up" she
finished, as she rose to a 'brace', back straight, chest and ass
out.
"Very good!" said her captor. "Now we will continue with
position for punishment and use. Squat. Just what it says,
spread you feet two feet apart then lower yourself so your cunt
is framed by your feet and less then 8 inches from the floor.
Your knees must be spread wide, don't want to hide any of the
view you know. Your hands should be behind you.
Amy stood then lowered herself into the demeaning position. She
could feel her labia open, her sex fully on display. Her cheeks
burned. It was almost 3 minutes before she heard him speak
again
"Very nice, Miss Dragger, again, make sure your back is arched.
"Table, means you will get on all fours, arms and legs well
apart, back straight and flat."
Amy fell forward, glad to leave the humiliating squat position.
Her hands were well apart on the floor. She tried to arch her
back, making a flat surface like a table. As she looked up at
him she could see him look below her eyes, at her hanging tits.
"Good. You will serve often as a table, or footstool." The man
continued. "Ass up. You will drop your chest to the floor, arms
straight out in a 'T', back arched, and your ass high in the air.
Amy dropped her arms, and spread them out. She had to turn her
face to the side. She arched. Thank god she was facing him.
Both her cunt and ass were spread obscenely.
"You get points for compliance, but none for style. When you
present you ass, you face it toward the person requesting it.
When you are ordered to the table position, it should be a
profile view." The executive continued. "So from the top, show
me."
Amy jumped back to her feet. "Present...Kneel....Kneel
up......Squat.......Table.....Ass up." She announced each
position then performed it. The squat and the Ass up were hard.
One opened her and the other displayed the openings.
"Not bad. Let's continue. "Breasts. Kneel, and cup your
breasts. Present them as if a gift you are giving to the
requester." He allowed the girl to offer her tits, pausing to
examine them, and to increase her humiliation. "Back. Lie on
your back, with your back arched. Your arms and legs raised and
out at a 45 degree angle." The girl laid down and spread. "And
cunt. On your back as you are, and reach down and pull you pussy
lips wide."
'Oh god' Pull herself open. 'Shit'. She lowered her hands. She
had to close her eyes. She grabbed each labium, and slowly
pulled them apart. She burned with shame. She was completely
opened. He could see up into her cunt she was sure. Tears
welled up in her eyes.
"There is two last commands that go together, though both may not
be used." her tormentor said. "Masturbate and Cum. Masturbate
means you will use your hands to arouse and stimulate your body.
Your breasts and your cunt. Don't forget your clit and your
asshole. Show me you know what I mean."
'Oh god.' play with her cunt.... with people watching. 'Oh
God.' She looked up pleading for release from this ordeal.
But there was no pity there. Slowly, she started to caress her
labia. Her face blazed. Her fingers were clumsy, tentative.
He just allowed her to continue. It took several minutes before
she was able to arouse herself. Slowly, her arousal built. She
closed out her surrounding, and concentrated on her feelings.
She was getting close. Her fingers were teasing her pussy,
tapping at her clit, panting towards her orgasm.
"When allowed to masturbate, you will not reach completion,
unless you are given the command to Cum."
What. What did he say? Not reach completion. Unless given the
command cum. She didn't really understand. She'd lost her
place, so to speak. Hearing nothing more she concentrated her
pussy again. Yes, it was building again. She was close again.
Soon. She hand flew. Yes, pant, going to .......
He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her hands away. 'Nooooooo' Her
hips thrust upward, reaching for something to finish her off.
Anything. Please. Just a little more. But it was too late, her
arousal faded away. Shit. Damn.
"You were not given the permission to cum, cunt." He held her
hands, smiling down at her, reveling in her loss. "When you
masturbate, you will continue without orgasm until you are told
to cum or to stop. It appears you will need substantial training
in this area. Present!"
Amy struggled to her feet. She was flushed and sweaty.
"Miss Wilson.", the executive said. "you will continue Miss
Dragert's training in these positions. Run her through them.
Mix them up, and make sure she masturbates several times, but
stop short. She hasn't earned clothes, let alone an orgasm. I
am going to read." He picked up a book from the table at his
elbow.
Diane sat up in her chair. "Present, Missy" Diane liked the
title the cook had used. Polite, innocent. Just what she had
been.
Amy scurried to stand before her aunt. For the next hour, she
moved from one position to the next forward, backwards, all mixed
up. Worse 4 times she was made to masturbate in front of her
aunt. It was so humiliating, but she had little time to think
about it. It did make her arousal higher, though. But that made
it harder to avoid an orgasm. Her mind was consumed with her
need to cum now.
"Enough", he was standing over her, watching as she masturbated
again. Once she calmed some he ordered, "Present"
She struggled to her feet and stood hands behind her, legs open.
Her wet sex on display. He made her stand until her breathing
slowed and the sweat dried from her body. Still she stood.
Finally, he spoke.
"It's time you earned your keep. These books get dusty. You
will take the duster and cloth on the corner table, and start
with the section behind the door. Start at the top. Take down
each book and dust and stack them neatly. Dust the shelf. Then
return the books to the shelf. Make sure they are returned in
the correct order. When you finish the first section, you will
move to the next, working around the room." He pushed a button
on the table. The wall lit up, the shadows disappearing.
There was a ladder that rolled on a rail fixed above the top of
the shelves. She would have to climb it, to reach the top two
shelves. And she knew she wouldn't be allowed to sit, even on
the floor. So she would display her ass, and probably more,
repeatedly.
She dusted for a long time. Reaching up to pluck a book. Then
dust it carefully. Bending to stack it on the floor. Then the
next one. Again. And again. She finished the first section, and
started on the next. God this was boring.
"Miss Amy", she heard his voice call. She walked across the
room, to present herself.
"Miss Amy, it is nearly 11:30. You will report to the kitchen at
6:00 am, 11:30 am, and 6:30 pm, as meals are at 6:15, 12:00 n,
and 7:00 pm. You will not be prompted from here on. Your
presence is expected. There are clocks in every room, so you
will have no excuse. Now, finish up that shelf, then report to
the kitchen." Amy hurried off to do his bidding.
Lunch was a repeat of breakfast. She had the advantage of having
draped clean linen this morning. She cleared two of the places,
after checking with cook that no other guests were expected. She
was half done already. She checked the things cook was
preparing, then added salad forks and fruit plates to the table.
She had everything done by 11:50, so she asked cook if there was
anything she could do to help. Cook set her about preparing the
salad.
'Tear the lettuce, don't cut it. Add some romaine, and slivers
of red cabbage. Then julienne carrots, thin slices of radish,
and fine crescents of onion. Add cherry tomatoes on the top
after tossing and putting in the serving dish.' The cook coached
her thru the steps of a nice looking salad. As nice as the one
she had in that restaurant on the beach, the expensive one.
Amy served the meal. Coffee wasn't first at lunch or dinner
either, so she had set water glasses and filled them when the
diners were seated. She served her salad, held the bowl just
below her bare breasts, as they dipped the forks and levered the
vegetables onto plates. A lazy-susan had dressing, and there was
fresh baked bread. The aroma made her hungry. After the salads,
she served a delicious looking stir-fry. By the time they
finished, and she cleared the table, she was starved. Cook had
their plates set in the alcove again.
As they ate, cook asked her about her self. Where she was born,
about her parents, schooling? Amy asked about cook, where she
was born, NY, family, only child, and how she got to work for Mr.
Young. Here she got no answer, so cook noted she had better see
what Mr. Young had for her to do. She would probably find them
on the terrace.
Amy stopped halfway out of her chair. She had come to grips with
her nudity. Not comfortable, but she was handling it. But now,
she would have to go outside, naked. Shit. The humiliation was
back again.
She slowly, walked through the dining room. She found a doorway
to the terrace between it and the study. She hesitated, took a
deep breath, and opened the door. The sun shine was warm on her
body, but it was just a bit cool to be naked. Her nipples
hardened, goose bumps sprouted on her skin. She found them on
the edge of the terrace, facing the lawn beside the pool. She
had to walk onto the grass, to stand before them. She assumed
her position. She saw her aunt had changed. She wore a sheer
white silk blouse, it was unbuttoned to the waist, and you could
see large curves of her breasts. Her skirt was full, and.....
She had it pulled up behind her. Just like Amy was ordered to
do.
"Ah Miss Amy.", the well dressed man said. You could slice bread
with the crease of his trousers, and the white dress shirt was
surly starched heavily.
"You look cold dear", he seemed to observe. "Perhaps some
exercise will warm you up. Why don't you start with some
loosening up exercises? Do 25 trunk twists. Put your hands on
your head. Keep your hips square, and turn your upper body 90o
to the left, then back to center, then right 90o, then center.
Use a 4 count cadence, and repeat 25 times. Ready. Begin."
Ok a little exercise would warm her up. She put her hands on her
head and began.
"One, two three four." Once she got the rhythm, her mind
wandered. She took in the view. Pool, Terrace, lawn, house.
Water slide, Window, shed. Billiards table. Driveway, upstairs
window, Flower garden, black bars. What! Stop. No go. Pool, CEO,
lawn, his eyes. Pool, grass, lawn, grass. Bars, why were there
bars on that window. Keep going. Bars. Prison? What? Thank
heavens she could do the reps automatically. His eyes were
watching her closely. Her body kept moving, mindlessly. His
eyes were following, focused. Body moving........shit. She was
snapping crisply from front to side and back. Shit. Her tits
were bouncing around like balls. Moving farther than her chest,
the bouncing back to try and find their place. Boing, bounce,
jiggle bounce. Boing, bounce jiggle bounce. How embarrassing.
She finished the count. Her face was flushed from more that
exertion.
"Not bad Miss Amy", the executive said. "Now for some cross over
toe touches. Arms straight out the side, bend forward and reach
your left hand to right toes. The back up and spread. Then
right hand to left toe. Again count aloud. 25 reps.... Begin"
Amy moved her arms out. One...Two.......... Bricks, boss,
grass, his eyes. Bricks, his stare, grass, eyes. He was
watching again. She could feel her tits jiggle, and his eyes
were on them. Or was he watching her sex. Her lips were
opening, from her stance, the friction of movement, her arousal.
How could she be aroused? This was humiliating, being made to
exercise naked for his enjoyment. Damn it.
ON she went, finishing the reps. She returned her hands behind
her, breathing a little harder.
"Jumping jacks next", the businessman said. "Arms at sides, feet
together, then jump and swing arms to straight above head, and
legs apart. A solid 90O angle to the legs. Then jump back, and
bring everything back together. Four count cadence still, or two
jacks per count. Ready..... Begin"
Amy knew that this was just what the dirty old man wanted. She
started the exercise. Spreading her legs wide. Her were tits
bouncing around violently. Even her pussy lips jarring down and
open, as she jumped. She tried to stare back at the
administrator. But she couldn't hold it. His gaze was to
humiliating. She dropped her eyes. She tried to concentrate on
the movements, but the increase movement of her breasts, and the
way her lips banged together, and the humiliation of being a live
porn show, increased her arousal. As her arousal increased so
did her humiliation elevated higher. Which increase her arousal?
The cycle continued. Her breathing increased, and not just from
her exertion.
He saw her eye drop. Saw the humiliation, and arousal. Her
sweating body radiated sex. He had her just where he wanted her.
She finished the last jack. He let her rest for a full minute.
"Now for some squats. Hands on head fingers locked. Feet apart.
Squat down all the way, ass 6 inches from the ground. Stay
there for a four count, and then rise for a four count. 25 reps
again. Hands on head..... Ready......... Begin."
Down she went. Shit. She wasn't near close enough to the
ground. Lower. Still lower. This hurts. My knees don't bend
this far. Shit. She was wide open. Her cunt was spread like a
newspaper. Damn. He found more ways to expose and humiliate
her. Back up. Count. Down. Push to get low enough. Opened,
she could feel cool air enter her pussy. Her cunt was the focus
of the sight. Gaud, this was humiliating. Up. Down. He would
be able to see into her.
There were tears of shame in her eye now, but something else too.
A drowsy, sultry look, that didn't fix with exercise, at least
not this kind of exercise. He watched her, her cunt spreading as
she reached the bottom of the squat. Her opening was not black,
but reddish, her hymen not quite visible, but just out of sight.
Yes, he would enjoy taking her virginity, but he doubted she
would. She finished the exercise. She was panting heavily. The
very deep bends, took a lot of work. He gave her a couple of
minutes to slow.
"Let's finish with some running. I want you to run to the shed
to your right. Circle it, then return here and run in place for
20 counts of 4. Then make another trip around the shed etc...
10 circuits. You must complete the 10 circuits within 15
minutes. If you do you will earn an article of clothing. If you
do not, you will receive an additional 30 stokes to you
punishment. Do you see the shed?
Amy looked. It was over a 100 yards to the shed. With 20 sec
stuck running on display, she could take little more than 1
minute to circle the shed and return. Very little more. She
nodded her head, slowly.
"Okay," said the reclining man. Taking a large clock from the
table, he reset it to 11:59. As the second hand came past the 10
he said. "Go!"
Amy turned and ran. There was a slight rise between the house
and the shed, maybe 3 feet. Then down to the shed which was just
a little lower than the house. As she climbed the rise she could
see more of the shed, and then the fence just beyond. Then of
the way to the shed she noticed. The road ran along that side of
the property. The fence was only about 3 feet tall. You could
easily see the cars over it. There were shrubs, and a few trees,
but not enough. She would be able to be seen from the time she
crested the hill, till she once again rose behind the shed.
That's it. If she moved left, the bigger gaps in the foliage
would be shielded by the shed. She angled over. But she would
still be visible when she rounded the shed, almost point blank in
front of the barest part of the fence.
She listened. She couldn't hear a car. Okay, she rounded the
corner of the shed and circled it. Shit, there was a man behind
the flower garden, turning compost. He hadn't seen her yet, his
back to her. She turned for the house. Up to the terrace, and
back to her spot. Shit. He was watching. She realized her tits
were flopping like fish out of water. Up down around. Damn it.
He probably loved it. Only 45 seconds. She could do this. 1, 2
3 4. 2, 2, 3, 4. 3, 2.... His eyes were following her tits,
checking out her pubes.
Off on the next lap. Using the shed for cover. Listening, no
cars. The gardener still digging away. Ha, she had this
figured now. Around the shed, and back to her spot. What was he
doing? Oh yes, eating in the shell peanuts. Oh crap. He's
throwing the shells into the grass. Right where she had been
standing. Okay, she moved back a bit. He shook his head. She
moved forward. 'Ooooo' The shells were sharp on her tender
feet. 1, 2, 3, 4. 2, 2, 3, "ahh", 4. She slipped forward
farther, away form the shells. He was saving more, a small pile
in the napkin on his lap. ...3, 4. 20, 2, 3, 4. Off again.
Another lap, she was back by the terrace. There were a lot more
shells. Spread widely over the grass. There was only a narrow
strip at the very edge of the terrace that was clean grass. She
moved to that. He had a great view now. 1, 2, 3... Off
again. No cars, gardener busy. Great maybe she could finish
without being seen. Well except for him. Back before him. More
shells around, but the strip still clear. Her body was slick
with sweat now. Her boobs dancing on her chest. Time. Good.
Four minutes and 35 seconds. She could make this easily. She
wanted those clothes. Count done, go!
She approached the shed, listening. Shit a car. She could her
the motor and tires whining on the pavement. She slowed her
pace, angling a bit to get the best coverage by the shed. She
had to slow further, waiting, hoping she wouldn't have to stop.
Was the sound receding, she was almost to the shed. Yes, yes it
was. Great, out around the shed she ran. Yes, she could see
flashes of the car thru the thicker foliage down the way, it was
past, couldn't see her. She ran on. Clear on this side, up
toward the house. The strip of clear grass, running, counting,
flopping. God, she hated this. Off again. Two more laps
without problems, but she was tiring. She knew they weren't as
fast as the earlier ones. Still she had almost half the time
yet.
She approached the shed on lap 8, no sound, but when she glanced
over the garden she saw the gardener put the shovel into his
wheelbarrow. Not a good sign. She started around the shed
watching him. "OHH!", 'Shit. Shit'. She'd slipped, crashing to
the soft earth. She wasn't hurt but the air was forced from her
lungs noisily. She scrabbled to her feet. She couldn't waste
time. She needed those clothes.
She came around the shed. Damn, she knew it. The gardener was
looking around, obviously curious about the commotion. He caught
the movement and focused on it. In her mind she saw his eyes
expand to grapefruit size, popping out feet in front of him to
view her better. She really did see his jaw drop. She steeled
herself, and plunged on. But she could feel her cheeks and chest
burn with the increase blood flow.
She was back to the terrace. Now there were shells on the last
of the grass. Not many, but a few. She ran in place, 1, 2, 3,
4. She didn't realize it but her count was slowing too. Tired,
she thought, so tired.
'Ouch', a shell. She finished her count, and headed off again.
She looked for the gardener. He was spreading something on the
compost pile, Lime she guessed. But he was behind it now,
facing her way. Her movement caught his eye. He stopped and
watched her. She felt so exposed. So vulnerable. So naughty.
Yet her cunt throbbed. Running was hard work now. She was
blowing hard, sucking in fresh air. She watched her step this
time. She wasn't going to slip again. She rounded the shed.
"Fuck!", she said aloud. There was a vehicle right in the opened
spot, an SUV. The back seat held two young boys. And they were
both looking her way. She saw their jaws drop and their eyes
enlarge as they focused on the naked female only 20 feet from
them. Amy dove to the ground. Shit. She could see their heads
turn to keep her in view. If the adults saw her, there was sure
to be trouble. How had she forgotten to listen for traffic. She
listened now, pressed to the earth. The whine of the SUV tires
was diminishing slightly, but she could hear a deeper whine
approaching, a truck, not far behind the SUV. She had to stay
put. The truck passed quickly, but its heavy whine made her wait
to be sure there were no others masked by the noise.
She threw herself to her feet. She lost a lot of time. She dug
in, running for all she was worth. She had to win that clothing.
She raced back to the terrace. Damn. More shells, everywhere,
but especially on the area she had been using. She couldn't run
on those. There just wasn't any bare grass, least not with the
range she knew he'd demand. Wait the terrace. It was stone
slabs. Rough sure, but there were no shells on it. She moved
carefully up to it. She still stepped on shells twice. It hurt.
Why had she done this? She was practically in his lap. She
started her count, eyes on the roof so she wouldn't have to meet
his gaze. 1,2,3,4. 2,2,3,4.... Something brushed her foot, it
flew away from her movement. A bug or something she imagined.
....3, 4. 4, 2.... Something else, light, but banging into her
ankle. She looked down.
He was throwing more shells at her feet, as she ran! Shit! Keep
going. 7, 2, 3, 4.... 'eeee', she stepped on one. ....3, 4.
13, 2,..... She tried to tread more lightly. ...4. 16, 2,
'damn', another, 3, 4. Her feet were starting to hurt. ....19,
2, 3, 4. He threw a large shell right under her foot. His
timing and aim were nearly perfect. "OWWWW!" Just where the big
toe meets the ball of the foot. Sharp, deep, it cut her. The
next step was agony. The next was 20. She stopped and lifted
the foot.
She was bleeding, a lot. She looked at him. His eyebrow rose,
questioning, challenging. Her eye flashed to the clock. Almost
14 minutes were up, the second hand on the 8. She ran for all
she was worth. Her foot hurt. But she had to win. Tears filled
her eyes. She ran. Tears of pain this time. How it burned.
Hurry, must make it. She tried to skip every other step with her
wound foot. Kind of a hopping, skipping run. But it was slowing
her down. She rounded the shed. Shit. The gardener was right
there in front of her. He stopped, lowered the wheelbarrow, and
starred at her. She flinched, but she had to keep going.
Hop/skip/running, she hurried on. She could feel his eye on her
bruised ass. Oh bother, keep going.
She knew she couldn't make it running like this. She broke back
into a full run. The tears started flowing down her cheeks. It
hurt so much, and she was so exhausted. She started whimpering.
By the time she got to the house she was almost sobbing. She
stopped on the terrace. She saw with delight that the shells had
been sweep or blow against the edge of the grass. She started
running in place. 1, 2, 3, 4..... She saw it. The second hand
was past the 9. She would be able to finish her count before it
reached 12. She had lost. The tears poured from the exhausted
girl. Her shoulders shook with sobbing. But she finished the
count. 19, 2, 3, 4. 20, 2,..3,......4. She stopped, dropping
to her knees, her sobs loose now, shaking her.
He watched the despairing child for many minutes, smiling in his
pleasure at her expense. He knew he had pushed her to the wall,
and she had not given up. He would give her the first reward,
such as it was. But she HAD failed. His interference was not
excuse. So he would punish her too.
It was almost ten minutes before she calmed down, and lifted her
face. He handed her some tissues, and she blow her nose and
dabbed her eyes dry.
Then he addressed her. "My dear, you were several seconds past
the deadline. It appears that the 30 addition strokes will be
added to your punishment."
Tears returned to Amy eyes. She dabbed them again.
"However, you were very close, and had some, shall we say
interference". So I will reward you with the articles of
clothing. He reached under his chair, and lifted the box there.
Before he handed it across, he added, and your perseverance, and
completion despite pain, and knowledge of failure, have earned
you another. Though that one will not be much either, and you
won't receive it till tomorrow. He gave Amy the box.
Amy practically threw the lid aside as she opened the box. Her
face fell. Shoes. She had gone thru all of this for a pair of
white high heeled shoes. She hated him. It was all he planned
to give her from the beginning, the son of a bitch.
"Well, put them on, dear. Oh, wait. Here, set down in my seat.
We should clean up that cut first." He rose, sweeping his hand
in an offer for her to sit. She sat the box in her lap. He
disappeared into the house and quickly returned with peroxide a
damp cloth and bandages. He lifted her foot and gently wiped
away the blood and dirt. The cut wasn't as bad as it seemed,
less that a half inch long, and not that deep. He held the cloth
under her foot, and poured the peroxide over the wound. He had
twisted her foot to get the bottom upright, and it bent her knee
and spread her leg widely. She blushed gently. But she saw he
was more interested in her foot now. He poured peroxide over her
wound several times, the blotted it with a dry cloth. Finally,
he applied a bandage, then place her foot on the stones.. It
really wasn't that bad was it.
"Now you may put on your clothes." he said with a devilish grin.
Bastard, Amy thought. She picked up one shoe from the box.
Yeah, right. The shoe had a very high heel, higher than any she
had ever seen. (5") He had to be kidding. She'd never be able
to walk in these. She turned them over and over, waiting for the
heels to shrink. They didn't. She set the box down on the
stones beside her feet. She took the shoe, lean forward and
down, and put the shoe over her toes. Then she pushed her foot
forward and the shoe back, slipping it over her heel. They were
a little tight, but her toes were especially cramped. The toe of
the shoe was narrow, pointed. And her knee had risen up almost
the whole five inches higher than its mate, her calf stretched
tight. She slowly reached into the box and withdrew the other
shoe. She worked it on, with the same result. At least her
knees were the same height now, but it raised her thighs. They
didn't touch the seat from mid thigh to knee. All her weight was
transferred back, onto her upper thighs and butt. She looked up,
and saw a hand extended to her.
"Why don't you see how they fit, walk around some. Get the feel
of them. She pushed up. Shit. If it weren't for his hand, she
would topple over. Her toes and calves screamed. She shifted
her feet, trying to get a better base. She tried a step, then
another. The hand withdrew. She walked to the edge of the
terrace, slowly turned and walked back. Enough of that.
"There, you can do it.", he said. "Walk around for a few minutes
to get used to them before you have to negotiate stairs and such.
After all they're the only clothes you have. You'll want to
wear them everywhere."
You mean she couldn't take them off. She really needed the next
half size. Wider too. You mean I'm stuck with these. This was
it too. She could tell by his voice that there wouldn't be more
soon. She forced herself to parade around the terrace, for
several minutes.
"You must be tired after your exercise.", said the executive. He
reached up and brushed her mated hair out of her eyes, "You need
a shower too. I'll take you to your room. There you can shower
and rest for a hour or so." He led her back into the house, the
up stairs to the room she had awakened in. She looked. There
were bars on the windows. "The bath is thru here", he said
opening the door to a lavatory. "You should find everything you
need." He turned at the door as he left. "Your punishment will
be given at 4:30 pm. Someone will be up for you then." Then he
exited and locked her in.
TBC
Her shower had been wonderful. She stood under the hot water for many minutes,
soothing tired muscles. She chose from the myriad of scented soaps and
shampoos. Lilac was her choice; its scent reminding her of the dawning spring.
Light, and warm, the promise of better days ahead. She wished. She faced
punishment in little more than an hour. She washed.
She turned off the water, and stepped out, grabbing a large, fluffy towel. This
place was incredible. She had never experienced such luxury as this mansion
provided. Even with her low stature, it was better than anywhere she had ever
been. She dried her hair with the dryer provided; the funny nozzle seemed to
make the job go quickly. She primped and fussed for several minutes, but
finally left the bathroom and walked to the bed. A single satin sheet covered
the bed. No blankets, no bedspread, though the room was plenty warm enough.
She crossed the window, peeking out between the closed curtains.
Gasp, she drew a startled breath. Her jailer, she thought of him that way, was
sitting out there again, though he was now facing the house. Before him a mat
was laid on the stones. However, what caused her surprise was what was on the
mat. She was kneeling on the mat, her back straight, knees spread, and hands
on top of her head, NAKED. Soon she moved; back arched, her hands cupping a
breasts, offering them to the man. And, he was touching them. She couldn't see
what he was doing, but soon her aunt was moving her hips. Just a little at
first, but stronger and stronger, as the man continued. Anne could see her aunt
give little jerks. The man must be pinching her nipples. Anne's hand came to
her own breasts. One of the man's hands dipped lower. Her aunt's hips were
thrusting now. The hands withdrew. She watched as her aunt flopped onto her
back, her hands diving into her sex. She was masturbating. Right out on the
terrace. She could see her aunt talking, and a shake of the man's head. Her
aunt's head lowered, but her hands remained busy, Slowly, her head rose again,
her mouth moving in slow motion. The man made no response. He aunt was
shaking, her head jerking forward, and legs wide, hips thrusting, raised into
the air. She could see her aunt speak again, mouth moving almost constantly.
Anne knew she was begging to cum.
Finally, the man nodded, and said a single word. Anne knew what the word must
be. Her aunt shook violently for a few seconds, arching even higher. Then, she
went ridged for long seconds, before collapsing to the mat. Oh god, Anne was
incredibly turned on. She dropped a hand to her pussy. Closing her eyes she
worked on her self, remembering the display. She glanced out again. Her aunt
was moving, sitting up, kneeling, and finally crawling to the man in the chair.
She was opening his pants, had to be. Anne couldn't see for sure, her aunt
blocked the view, but she had to be working on his trousers. She saw the man
arch up. Her aunt was pulling his pants down, exposing him. How she wished she
could see. Then her aunt dipped her head down. She was going to give him a
blowjob. Anne's hands were a blur. The sight of her naked aunt, outside,
giving her boss a oral sex, excited her immensely. She watched. She diddled.
She was so close.
Fuck! He looked straight into Anne's eyes. He knew. Shit. Shit. She was
going to cum. She saw him shake his head twice, and stare intently at the
window. However, it was too late. Anne came. The thrill increased by the
knowledge he knew and saw it thru the window. His eyes changed a knowing
Cheshire cat grin. Anne panicked, turned quickly away form the window. Shit,
she'd cum without permission. Moreover, he knew it. Surely she would be
punished for that. Damn. She had enough punishments coming, she didn't need
more. However, the glow of her orgasm was beautiful. She stumbled to the bed,
and covered up, basking in the warm glow of satisfaction. Soon she was asleep.
On the terrace, Diane lovingly sucked her boss's cock. She felt so naughty,
naked on the terrace, displayed, masturbating, where the staff could easily see
her if they looked out. But, she had had a marvelous orgasm, and now she would
give her master one. Yes, he was her master. She would do anything he wanted,
well ordered her to do. That's what he did. He ordered what he wanted. And,
he wanted her. She knew he was watching the window. Nevertheless, it was
taking all of her skill to keep him hard. His hand smoothed her hair. She
looked up at him. He looked at her, his face changing from laughter, to
something Diane liked much better. She tried to return the look, and renewed
her efforts. Yes, now she had his attention. His magnificent cock surged. She
watched as the soft look changed. She had him now. She dipped deeper, his eyes
closing, and then opening again. Her eyes smiled at him as she saw his peak
approach. She went deep again, and held him there. Five, ten seconds, till he
exploded in her mouth. His hand grabbing her head, but he didn't force her
down. He just caressed her hair, as he pumped his load again, and again. She
sucked it all down. God but she loved pleasing this man.
He lifted her head, brushing hair from her eye as he pulled her up, and kissed
her hard. Then he lifted her to her feet, stood and fixed his trousers, then
led her up to his bedroom. An hour later, they were exhausted and sweaty. He
left her, and took a shower. Exiting he went to the intercom, gave some
instruction, then walked back to the bed. He softly, stoked the side of Diane's
face, till she looked up. If you wish to witness the punishment, you had best
bathe. The scent you give off now may make her enjoy it too much. Diane
blushed, reaching up to kiss him. Then she headed to the bathroom.
Anne gave a start, not sure if she had been sleeping or just resting her eyes.
She had heard the lock on the door. She saw the door opening. It was the cook,
but she was dressed differently. She had on a black stiff A-line skirt, hem
above her knees. And a crisp white blouse, with a low scooped neck, her ample
bosoms visible. Her waist seemed much tighter then Anne remembered. Dark
stocking and high heels completed the outfit.
"I've come to prepare you", the cook said. "It's time."
Anne rose from the bed, and stood beside it. There was nothing for her to say,
but she asked.
"Will it be terrible?"
"I know only what the master wishes your preparations to be. However, my
experience tells me, those instruction do not bode well for you. Master, is not
unwise, though, he will not ruin you, nor injure you such that you cannot return
to your duties. However, it may be uncomfortable to do so. Don't forget, to
him, what you have committed a very serious crime. He will impress upon you
mind the error of your ways, and upon you flesh, his disgust with that error."
She ended the subject, with a command. "Sit at the vanity; you are not to speak
again." Anne walked to the vanity and sat. The cook had turned the chair to
the side, giving the cook access to the cosmetics. Anne sat with her hands in
her lap, as the woman made up her face, then brushed her hair and applied a
headband. Then she applied some rouge to her areolas and nipples, and outlined
her areolas lightly, with lip liner. Then she applied a very light shaded
powder to the rest of her breasts, making the look pale and vulnerable.
It hit her like a thunderbolt. The way her breasts were made to look so
prominent and innocent could only mean one thing. They were going to be the
center of her punishment. 'OH GOD'. She had seen what had happened to her
aunt's breasts when they were punished. Awful. Terrible. She was also sure
that any punishment she received would exceed anything done to her aunt. Tears
filled her eyes.
"Don't dwell on it little one" she heard the cook say as she finished. She
stepped back, checking her work. "Yes, that will do. Put on your clothes."
She returned everything to its place, while Anne slipped the shoes on. Then she
said, "Come along, Missy"
Anne stood, and followed the woman out of the room. They descended the stairs,
and then entered the living room. The cook led her to the front of the fire
place, and then turned her to face the room, and the two arm chairs that faced
the fireplace.....
"Kneel, hands behind you back", the woman ordered.
Anne knelt and spread her legs, reaching her hands behind her. She gasped, as
the cook quickly bound her wrist together. Anne's heart started racing. The
cook moved behind the armchairs and stood, seemingly at attention.
Presently, the executive and her aunt entered. Both were well dressed. Her aunt
wore a white dress. It had a swing skirt, and a deep vee neck. She wore lovely
white stiletto sandals, quite high, but not like those Anne had just earned.
The executive was dressed in black. Black pants, black silk dress shirt, and
black shoes. He looked very handsome, and intimidating. The pair sat in the
armchairs. Cook served them a drink, wine for Diane, and an Old Fashion for the
man in black. When they were settled she stepped forward and stood to Anne's
side.
"Miss Dragert", the CEO's voice broke the silence. "You have confessed to theft
of funds from the company, and therefore me, as its head. Your punishment shall
continue today. As you have earned considerable punishment, in addition to that
for your crime, so I have enlisted the help of Miss Julia. She will be applying
some of your punishments. However, do not fear, I will administer the more
severe portions of your punishment.
Anne looked at the cook. She saw it now; the cook was not a little overweight.
She was stout, the excess muscle, not fat cells. She wasn't sure if it was an
advantage or a curse. She knew the man struck hard. Surely the woman couldn't
hit as hard. Could she?
"So, to your punishment. First, you have demerits, so the 15 stroke starter
will apply. Miss Julia, Please fetch the fraternity paddle, and apply 15 hard
strokes to Miss Dragert's buttocks."
Miss Julia walked to the cupboard beside the fireplace. Opening the door, she
reached inside and drew out a long wide polished board. She returned to the
spot where Anne knelt.
"Stand up, Missy", the woman said. "Turn around and spread your legs wide.
Then bend over.
Anne took one last look at the paddle, and turned around. As she bent over she
could feel the air on her exposed open pussy, and ass. She started to blush.
When, she was bent over, she moved her eyes between her legs. The occupants of
both chairs were starring at her crotch. The blush spread. She took a deep
breath. She saw the cook cross thru her field of vision. After a few seconds,
she saw the man look left, and nod. Then his eye looked back, and fixed them on
her own.
WHAM! "OH!" Fire exploded in her buttocks. The blow nearly knocked her over.
Her eyes closed. When she reopened them, they were clouded with tears, but his
eyes still met hers. WHAM! CRACK the sound preceding the pain that
followed. Her head jerked up involuntarily WHAM! "Ahhh!" Another searing
line across her butt. Pain, deeper, fuller, but not as sharp as the belt.
Still it hurt. She saw his eyes rise from her face.
WHAM! Another CRACK! Fire was spreading across her buttocks.
WHAM! "Ugh!" Again the paddle smashed into her buttocks. She thought she
could feel her cheeks compress. A solid burning sensation filled her bottom.
WHAM! SPLAT ! "Oooo! The paddle slammed home again. Banging into her flesh,
stinging. Tears overflowed her eyes.
WHAM! "AHHHH! IT HURTS!" she cried. Her hips snapped forward with the blow,
then, slowly returned to their original position. Then they started to wander.
WHAM! "OWWWW! She rotated her fanny, trying to cool it, trying to make a
moving target. Her mind raged. 'Hurts' 'move' 'get away'
WHAM! "ARGGGGG" The paddle slammed into her buttocks again. Her flesh stung.
The muscle bruised. Her mind seared.
WHAM!! "IEEEEEEEE" Her body swayed, the paddle finding her regardless, burning
another fiery pink swath across her butt.
WHAM! "YOWWWW" Another loud crack, the sound of her pain. Her buttocks
clenched when she heard it. Too late.
WHAM! "OOOOOOO" Her butt was ablaze, tears flowing freely. Her face almost
as red as her ass, her blood pumping into her lowered head.
WHAM! "EEEEEEEE" Lower, where her legs and buttock met. Awful pain. It was
getting to her, burning, raging within her ass
WHAM! Lower still, the tops of her thighs, the last of the energy compressing
her labia. Not stinging them. Her meaty thighs had slowing the wood, it only
caressed the labia.
WHAM! "AAAAAAAA" Across the center of her ass again, bringing the pain to a
boil.
She waited for the next one. She didn't know how many more she could stand,
without breaking into sobs. This was just the warm up. She heard the cupboard
door open, and snapped her head to see.
The cook was hanging the paddle up. And, she was closing the door! It was
over. She let her head droop in relief.
"Miss Anne", the seated man said. That was your opener. Severe because you
make me punish you. Though I enjoy it immensely, having to do it takes time and
effort."
He paused for a minute. Then continued, "Stand up dear". Anne stood and faced
him, hand behind her and legs spreading. "This morning did you prepare yourself
to be in my presence?"
"Yes Sir", Anne quickly replied.
"Did you shower completely",
"Yes Sir!"
"Did you fix your hair?"
"Yes Sir!"
"Did you make your face as presentable for me as possible?"
Oh SHIT! She hadn't used any makeup. Damn. That was a rule, wasn't it? DAMN.
DAMN. "Ah, no, Sir."
"No you did not. Should you prepare yourself for my presence in every way
possible?"
"Yesss, Sir."
"So you remember the demerits for failure to wear makeup."
"No Sir, but I now remember that I was supposed to, or receive demerits. How
many am I to receive."
"The list I gave you calls for 30 strokes. However, I will reduce that to 15
because you have not had time to study the list. Do you have need to visit
the restroom, young lady?"
"No Sir."
"All day, and no need yet. How interesting?"
It hit Anne like a ton of bricks. She had peed after her cum, and this morning
too. But, he had told her last night, that she had to have permission to use
the restroom. Permission she had not gotten. Lack of which, she was sure would
have more demerits.
"Sir?"
"Yes Miss Anne"
Sir, I have forgotten another rule, Sir. I used the restroom, without
permission. Twice, Sir.
"Twice. Dear me?" He knew by this time of the day once would not have been
enough, but he wanted to see her embarrassment at having to tell him of her
trips.
"Yes, sir, twice. Once this morning, and again, before I took my nap, sir"
"You mean, after your cum, don't you."
Anne blushed to her toes, and lowered her eyes to her feet. She thought he had
seen her, but he knew exactly what had happened. That couldn't be good either.
"Yes Sir", she answered dejectedly.
Therefore, we have two violation of the bathroom rule, and a violation of the
self pleasure rule, and an unapproved orgasm. Hmmm 2 times 30 are 60, and 30
for touching yourself, and 30 for cumming. I believe that makes 120."
Anne's head snapped up. 120 strokes. No way could she endure that. It would
kill her. She'd go insane. 120. Help! Impossible.
However, you did admit to the bathroom violations. And, as they are new rules;
you have not had time to learn them. So, I'll tell you what. I'll only count
one bathroom violation, and only the orgasm. In addition, since your punishment
for theft is going to be very severe tonight, I will cut the punishments in
half. How many is that, Anne."
What. Oh dear. What did he say, one bathroom violation, 30 strokes, wasn't
it. And only the orgasm, that was 30 too. That was 60, half of 60 was, 30.
Could he really let her off with 30?
"It's 30, Sir. Thirty strokes." 15 had been bad, but she could probably handle
30.
"Ah my dear, you forgot the 15 for poorly preparing yourself. I will have to
give you those 15 twice to remind you to think carefully about your demerits.
You are responsible for keeping your demerits accurately. So we have 45
strokes, plus the 15 stokes penalty. Since your fanny had already received the
fraternity paddle, I will use leather for your punishments. Forty-five over my
knee, with the leather paddle upon your lovely derriere. Then Miss Julia will
give you 15 with the cat, to your lovely back, while you hang from the ceiling."
What, leather paddle, over his knee, not good. But, a cat could only mean a
cat-of-nine-tails. To her back, while she hung. My God. That would be real
bad.
"So Miss Anne, shall we continue", said her tormentor. "Go to the cupboard, and
bring me the leather paddle. It's the first one on the left. Bring it to me,
and then lie across my lap for your punishment." He gave her a penetrating
stare.
Anne hesitated like a deer caught in the headlights of his stare. Which way to
run! Slowly, she walked to the cupboard. She opened the left door. A sharp
intake of breath escaped her mouth. There were paddles, crops, and whips hung
around the interior of the cupboard. On the shelf at the bottom, lay
restraints, and gags. She had never seen most of this stuff, but much of it was
obviously used to punish, probably punish females. She looked up and to the
left. There it was, a black handle, hung from a peg. Stuck between the halves
of the handle, was an inch thick oblong piece of stiff leather, about the size
of a small serving platter. She carefully reached up and took it down. She
turned and delivered the paddle to the executive. Then she carefully draped
herself over his lap.
He made her wait. He took his time examining the paddle. The leather was
stiff, but not rigid. It flopped over in a U shape. No, more like a melon half,
not coming back to touch itself. He gave it a short snap thru the air. The
leather instantly formed a flat level attitude, just like he knew it would.
Then he examined the waif on his lap. She was stretched, fingers and toes
spread out, touching the floor. She hung, her navel on his left leg, her mound
just touched the inside of his right. Her ass was just right of center, so it
sloped down, rather than flat. Perfect. He laid his hand on her derriere. It
was quite warm from the frat paddle. It would get warmer still, he thought.
He swung the paddle down vigorously. When his hand was just an inch from a full
swat, he stopped it, and snapped his wrist. The leather flattened as the curled
end caught up with the half nearer the handle. Then it passed it.
SPLATT! The leather struck the girl's reddened butt. The paddle covered nearly
all of her buttocks. "YEOW" Anne cried out. The leather stung like blazes.
SPLATT! The leather struck again, burning into her flesh.
SPLATT! He brought his hand all the way down this time. The lower part of her
buttocks the point of impact.
SPLATT! Again, but arm tucked, wrapping the near cheek from hip to crack.
SPLATT! Arm extended, wrapping the far cheek, the tip wrapping down the
hip bitterly.
SPLATT! "OH!" Lower down this time, where the cheeks meet the thighs.
SPLATT! Higher. The hollow in the small of her back catching the edge,
centering the pain there.
SPLATT! "AH!" Low again. Definitely a tender spot.
SPLATT! She jerked. Striking not quite so low, wrapping the bottom fullness of
the near cheek.
SPLATT!! Another jerk. The same place, on the far cheek. Sweat broke
out in the small of her back.
SPLATT! "YEOW!" Full across the center of her ass. Her legs restless
now, alternately kicking.
SPLATT! Her already throbbing ass, burned again.
Anne was in pain now, each strike of the paddle lighting a fire in her butt.
Tears filled her eyes. Her breathing was deep and rapid. She couldn't keep her
legs still.
"YEOW." Fire. "OW!" Misery. "UGH!" Sting. "OOO!" Flame. "ARGH!" Agony.
"AHHH!" The pain mounted. Her legs thrashed. She shook. Whimpers escaped
between blows.
"AAAAA!" Broiling. "EEEEE!" Biting. "GAAAA!" Seething. "WHAAA!" PAIN.
She thrashed on his lap, sobbing now. Her ass was an inferno, each swat flaring
incandescently.
"PLEASE!" Pounding her ass. "STOP!" Tearing the flesh. "NO MORE!" Mashing
the muscle.
"DON'T!" Agony beyond dreams. "STOP! " Anguish beyond hope. "HELP
MEEEEeeee"
The pain was bitter, consuming. She tried to scream out her anguish. Shake the
hurt like water from a dog. But, it just continued. She couldn't think. All
she could do was SCREAM.
"IIEEEEEE!" PAIN "AGGGGG!" AGONY "GAAAAA!" PAIN "HOOOO!" TORMENT
"WHAAAA!" PAIN "YEOW!" EXCRUCIATING "EEEEE!" PAIN "AAAAAA!" MORE PAIN
Anne heaved like a locomotive. Whistle, huff, chug, huff. Scream, gasp, sob,
and gasp. Her screams long and full. Like a whistle, releasing the
overpressure building higher and higher in the vessel draped over his lap.
"NGGGG!", "OOFFF!, "GAAA!" Anne was lost in the pain, nearing exhaustion.
He brought the last of the stokes to bear, and then ceased.
Anne jerked and kicked for several seconds after the last blow, her body
reacting to the pain, not the blows now stopped. The screams ceased, but the
sobbing grew, continuous now. It shook her whole body. She sucked in air like
a jet engine.
Slowly, the sobbing slowed, the jerking and thrashing ceased. It took minutes,
before she settled sleep like over his thighs. He allowed her several minutes,
then, laid a hand on her abused ass. Her head jerked up with a cry, the fell
back again. He waited.
Oh god. That was terrible, horrendous. He'd ruined her ass. She couldn't feel
the skin. The damaged, torn muscles had to be all that was left. A freak. She
was left a freak. Ass ripped away as though some animal had bitten it off.
She'd have to use some special conveyance. Even a wheelchair wouldn't work.
She could never sit again. She gathered her strength, and turned her head to
look accusingly at her attacker.
His eyes showed no pity. But, no mirth, either. He reached a hand toward her.
My god. Did he expect her to move? To stand up? She turned farther, afraid to
look, but knowing she had to see it.
Her ass, what see could see of it, was still there. She was sure it was her
butt because it was reddish-purple, and swollen. But, it was there. Not even
any blood. She couldn't believe it. She been sure it was destroyed. It sure
felt like it. He wiggled his hand. She had no choice, she pushed off his lap.
Wrong. Dumb. Hurts. Straighten Up! Can't bend. Can't move below waist.
Causes pain. Her hands flew back to hold the muscles in place. Wrong again.
She held them just off her butt, trying to decide if it the pain was worse
unsupported, or when scalded by her hands. She didn't have time to make a
decision.
The cook moved in front of Anne. She raised a leather fur-lined cuff, and
nodded to Anne's left shoulder. Slowly, Anne brought her hand to the front.
She looked to the man who had punished her ass so bad. He gave no visual
quarter, simply one nod in the direction of the cuffs. She watched as her wrist
laid itself in the cuff, and was encircled. Too soon the second wrist was bound
like the first. She was led beneath a pair of hanging chains. They weren't
there before. A panel was missing from the ceiling now. She saw her hands
rising, passing her face, and going up, up. Soon she was stretching to keep her
toes on the floor. The cook was walking to that damn cupboard, and reaching
into it. She couldn't watch.
When her curiosity got the best of her again, and she opened her eyes, but she
couldn't see the cook. She looked at the two seated people. One's eyes
sparkled, alive, intrigued. The other's burned into her soul, accusing,
sentencing, then a quick nod. 'Oh ShiTTTTTTTTTT'
The cat had slammed into her back. It took her breath away. She couldn't even
scream. Searing pain spread across her back. She arched forward, nearly losing
her footing. She finally relaxed enough to draw a breath. Out. In. "YEOW!"
The cat struck again, the breath was gone with her scream. She couldn't draw
another, the pain too great, the muscles temporarily paralyzed.
The cat struck again. Air rushed into her lungs to power the scream.
"OOWWWWW!" Her legs thrashed, the pain in her wrist and shoulders not competing
with the agony of her back. "GGAAA!" Searing pain. "AAAAGGG!" Intense,
penetrating pain. "GGWWWW!" Her legs bicycling, running from the cat.
"NNNGGGG!" But, her feet found no purchase. The cat still found her back again.
The pain continued.
The whipping of the girls back continued, mercilessly. The cat driving into the
flesh, leaving welts that raised and purpled. The girl's eyes were wild, like a
beast in mortal combat with another. Her screams were screeching, shrill, blood
curdling. On it went. The crack of the whip. The horrible screams. The arched
back and bouncing breasts. The legs were running, thrashing, kicking out
mindlessly. Her body was sweating profusely.
Finally, the last cut of the cat. Her body arched, then thrashed, and she
screamed one last time. Miss Julia returned the cat to the cupboard, and then
strolled from the room. Mr. Young rose and lifted Miss Wilson from her chair.
Then he removed her dress, and laying her on the floor, fell upon her. Bestial,
violent lovemaking ensued; bring both to rapid, strong orgasms. Presently, they
separated, rose and dressed. When they were seated again, the girl had regained
some of her senses. She slowly got a grip on the floor, taking some of the
stress off her shoulders and wrists. Her back was a mass of pain.
The CEO reached to the table by his chair, and briefly pushed a button. The
chains slackened just enough for her to get her feet firmly on the floor, He
pushed another button. Miss Julia appeared in the doorway.
"Miss Diane and I are going to bathe, then were going to dinner and a show. In
half an hour, you may lower Miss Anne, but do not release her. She may lie on
the floor where she is. Apply the heeling ointment to her back and ass.
Moreover, Miss Julia, you are not to torment her more than just applying the
cream. Nor is she allowed to cum, she wasted that opportunity earlier." Having
finished, he touched Anne's cheek, then, taking her aunts hand, they left the
room.
Anne cried silent tears. The pain was still strong, but it was loneliness, and
guilt, that caused the tears. Such a handsome, and powerful man, and she was
just a criminal to him. Someone to punish, not love. She saw the lust in his
eyes when he looked at her aunt. She had seen them on the terrace. Moreover,
her mind had registered their passion, on the floor before her. She would never
have that kind of love. She was to be punished, tormented, but not loved. The
tears poured from her eyes, small shudders rippling her body.
The cook stood in the door, watching. It was easy to guess the thoughts of the
girl. She had had them once herself. She had loved her employer, in her way.
And, he loved her in his. However, she loved her husband more. The lust and
sex games with her employer were titillating, but not true love. That she held
for her husband. The man who understood her employers hold on her, and accepted
it. Of course, it had benefits for him. She was a more adventurous lover,
uninhibited now. And then, there were the other perks. The master allowed her
husband to enjoy and participate in the games. Not just with her either. You
see the love of her life, was the gardener/butler.
************************************
Anne dozed on the floor before the fire. The warmth was relaxing. She had a
moment of panic when the butler had entered to lay the fire. He had raised her
chains, exposing her, and then examined her closely. He didn't have to undress
her with his eyes, she was fully displayed. She trembled, both fearing and
wanting his touch. She listened as he built the fire, and ignited it. Then he
lowered her with a knowing smile, and left the room.
She heard a command. "Up Missy." The cook was walking into the room. Anne
climbed stiffly to her feet. The pain was gone, but she ached from thighs to
neck. The ointment the cook had applied had soothed the fires, and relaxed the
tensed muscles. She almost felt normal, but she was sure she was going to have
difficulty laying on her back, or especially sitting down.
"The Master has chosen to retire for the evening. He will administer the rest
of your punishment tomorrow. I am ordered to see you secured in your room."
She released the cuffs from the hanging chain, then raised the chains, the panel
slipping soundlessly back in place. Then she walked to the cupboard and locked
it. "Come my dear"
They walked out of the room, and then up the stairs to the room Anne had napped
in. The cook walked to the bed and drew the sheet completely off the bed.
Folding it a few times she laid it on the chair by the vanity. The she nodded
to Anne and looked to the bed. Anne knelt on the bed, and then spread out on
her stomach. The cook rounded the bed and grasp Anne's left wrist. She
extended it to the corner of the bed, reached down, and pulled up the end of a
short strap. She clipped the strap to the cuff still on Anne's wrist. Then she
moved to the other side. She repeated the procedure with her right wrist.
We don't want your sleep disturbed, should you roll over during the night."
Miss Julia said. Then she turned out the light.
***************************
Anne heard a key in the lock. Sunshine filled the room. She could hear birds
singing. The door swung opened and the cook entered. She walked to the bed,
and removed a cuff from Anne's wrist. She circled the bed and removed the
second cuff. Anne rubbed her free wrists reflexively, then rolled over.
MISTAKE. Her entire back half throbbed, and screamed. How could she have
forgotten? She pushed her torso up, and slid onto one hip. By that time, the
cook was at the door.
Hurry up sleepy head, she said. "It's almost 7:30. It's Sunday, and we have a
special breakfast to prepare. I'll see you in the kitchen in 15 minutes." With
that she walked out of the room. Anne felt very old, stiff and arthritic. She
slowly made her way to the bathroom. She tried to sit on the stool, but
couldn't maintain contact. It hurt too much. Then it dawned on her. She
wasn't to use the bathroom without permission. But how could she get
permission. She peeked into the room. No phone. She had no idea where to find
the man her aunt called master. Even to go to the kitchen and get the cook's
approval, which might not be adequate, and return would waste too much time.
There was no other way. She had to hold it. She climbed into the shower and
let the hot water ease her pain some. Not much, she was due downstairs.
She arrived in the kitchen. Cook gave her a once over. Her hair was brushed
nicely, and makeup on. She even remembered her shoes. Damn. Cook lost a bet
on that one. She smiled at the penalty she would receive. She had been so sure
she would not have to pay it. Master would enjoy it the more for her misplaced
confidence. She pointed to a sack of potatoes by the sink.
"Peel the potatoes, and wash them. Then, shred them with the grater in the
utility drawer. Fill the large bowl, the red one not the green. It's in the
cupboard next to the stove. Then rinse and drain them. Finally cover them with
cool water" Cook continued her work, now that she had given her directions.
She put her hand up a small turkey, obviously retrieving the giblets. She gave
no further thought to the girl, for now.
Anne looked around. She found a cutting board leaning on the wall under a
cupboard. She took that. Then she took one of the smaller knives out of the
angled block. On a whim, she retrieved a clean dish towel, and laid it out
beside the potatoes. Lastly, she found the bowl, the red one, the green one was
huge. Then she began her task. Peeling, washing, shredding, rinsing, soaking.
She turned to cook who was just packing the last of the stuffing into the bird.
"I've finished Ma'am." Anne said.
"Good" the cook said looking up. "Quick, go and set the table. There'll be
fresh juice, and orange marmalade for the toast. Understand?"
"Yes Ma'am" She got it, a juice glass, bread plate, and those funny short wide
knives. She hurried off to her task. She changed the linen, and started to set
the table for two. She stopped suddenly. Special breakfast? Special meaning
guests? She walked slowly, to the kitchen. She dreaded the answer to the
question she must ask.
How many for breakfast, Ma'am?" She could hardly stand still for the answer she
thought she already knew.
"Five." The cook said. She couldn't turn around. She was smirking too
broadly.
FIVE. "Yes Ma'am", Anne said. Five! She would be expected to serve before
three more people. Shit. She hadn't had a chance to earn any more clothes.
Damn. Her blush started, even though there was no one there yet. She gathered
herself up, and finished setting the table. She put two places to the right of
master's chair, figuring a couple and a single. The couple should be given the
greater position, shouldn't they? Master, female, man, her aunt, man. Yes,
that should work.
She finished the table, gave it a double check. Opps, she forgot coffee cups.
Duh. She quickly finished that, and checked again. Bacon, eggs, hash browns,
toast and marmalade. Would they have everything they needed? She thought so.
She returned to the kitchen. Cook was leaning into the fridge; she came out
with what looked like ham.
"Finished?" she asked. Anne nodded. "Great. Drain your potatoes, and take
them over to the stove.
Anne complied. When she got to the stove, she notices that one side of burners
had been changed to a large griddle. Cook motioned to an aerosol can on the
counter. Coat the griddle with the cooking spray, and add the potatoes. Use
the pancake turner to turn them regularly, spraying the griddle lightly as you
go. Don't let them darken till they turn soft. That means they're cooked.
Then, spread them out, turn up the heat one notch, and let them brown before
turning to brown the other side. Anne took to the task. It wasn't hard, but
required near constant attendance. She didn't know how long to leave them, and
didn't want to screw up so she erred on the side of too soon, rather than too
late.
She watched the cook. She took several English muffins out of the oven. They
were toasted a golden brown. She put two on each of five plates, and then laid
a round of meat on each. Canadian bacon, Anne realized. Next she slid a
poached egg onto each slice of meat. She then picked up a mixing bowl, and
whipped the contents. Finally, she scooped a generous portion of the thick
yellow cream onto each egg, covering it and running off onto the ham and muffin.
She took a pepper mill and ground some over each plate and the salted them
lightly. She placed the plates in the oven, and closed the door.
Cook came over and checked the potatoes. She looked at the clock. Anne did
too. It was a quarter of nine. " Best turn the heat up 1 notch, but watch them
so they don't burn". Anne did so, and watching carefully, coached by cook, she
got nice golden hash browns, and scooped them into the server, covering them
with the domed lid.
"Master will be down any minute, you'd best get the coffee and take you
station." Cook said.
Anne filled the serving pot, and headed for the dining room. Her timing was
perfect. The master of the house entered as she set the pot on the side
counter. He took his place, and Anne lifted the pot and poured. She returned
to the counter, and waited. She trembled just a little wondering who would be
coming, would be viewing her nakedness. Soon her aunt entered. She had on a
lovely spring dress, light with a short swing skirt. She took her place, but
saw the look between the two, and the smile her aunt gave as she flipped her
skirt out of the way. She sat on her bare behind!
Anne was curious. The guests had not yet arrived, yet they were seated, wasn't
that rude? The kitchen door opened, and cook entered. But, her hands were
empty, and her apron missing. The dress it had hidden was springy too. Then a
man entered behind her. A white shirt, tie and jacket, THE GARDENER. He had
his arm around the cook's waist, as if escorting her into a restaurant. They
proceeded to the far side of the table, where the gardener held the chair for
her, then sat beside her. Anne rushed to pour coffee for the pair.
"You may serve." The master said.
"In the oven you will find a rack of English muffins. Place them on a plate,
and cover them. Bring them in with the potatoes. The return for the Eggs
Benedict, and serve them." Cook said, and then turned to compliment her aunt
on the lovely dress.
Anne hurried to comply. She felt the gardener's eye on her backside.
Obviously, he saw the stripes and bruises. She made three trips to the dining
room, the two servers, and the four plates. Then she stood back. Was the other
guest not coming?
"You've forgotten the juice, and the marmalade, Missy." Cook said. "And all
have not been served".
Anne hurried for the items, placing them on the table. The she returned for the
last plate in the oven. Was the fifth guest a ghost, she giggled to herself.
She returned to the dining room and placed it before the empty chair, then
checked cups. Two needed refills, which she took care of. She stepped back,
but no one was eating. They were all starring at her, smiling at some inside
joke. Who could be coming, that would give them that much pleasure at her
humiliation.
"If you would be seated, we'd like to eat before it gets cold." The master of
the house said.
What? Sit down? The smiles were almost giggles now.
He continued. "Sunday morning we all eat as equals. An hour of friendliness,
and equality. Please sit."
Anne looked at cook, and then her aunt. Both gave her nods of assent. Anne was
so relieved, she didn't think about it, she just pulled out the chair and sat.
AND nearly upset the table as she jumped back up. She felt like she received an
electric shock. There were snickers around the table. She lowered herself more
slowly this time. The chair was padded, it helped, but it still took several
tries to settle uncomfortably down all the way. Breakfast passed quickly, The
Eggs Benedict were delicious, and Anne even accepted a complement on the hash
browns, they were pretty good. When finished, Anne poured coffee, and they all
sat and conversed for some time. Finally, though cook stood, and started to
clear the table. Anne jumped to help her.
As the executive stood, he said. "I expect you on the terrace in 30 minutes for
your exercises" Then he left the room.
Anne cleared the table and, changed the linen. Then she helped cook by drying
the dishes, and put them away. Cook was already starting on Sunday dinner.
Anne headed for the terrace.
Her exercises were like yesterday. But it was performed before two men, the
gardener, and the executive. Both stared at her breasts and pubes, as she
jiggled and spread before them to complete the calisthenics. For the run she
was allowed to stay on this side of the shed, because Sunday sightseers made the
road busier than before. The executive finally sent Anne for a shower and then
back to the kitchen to help cook with dinner.
Cook had much for her to do. Prepare salad, cut up vegetables, stir sauces.
Suddenly cook said. Hurry, it's almost 1:00, Set the table. Quick. Full
service.
Anne hurriedly grabbed a stack of plates, but then turned and said. "Will there
be 5 for dinner also". Her hopes were high.
"No dear" said the cook. (Anne's hopes fell) "There will be 8 for dinner. Get
a leaf out of the closet.
Anne's hopes fell further. Eight, probably two other couples would replace her
at the table. She would be exposed in front of four more people. She hurriedly
changed the linen added the leaf, and set the plates, sliver, glassware etc.
She arraigned the chairs, but there were only six. She remembered that the
master used one at his desk, but she had seen no others. She retrieved the desk
chair, then returned to the kitchen to ask cook. But she was not there. One of
the pans was near boiling over, so she hurriedly stirred the contents. Then
oven timer sounded, and another dish started to overflow at the same time. Soon
it seemed a conspiracy of timers, alarms and boiling over dishes.
Where was cook? She heard the front door chimes, but hardly had time to think
of her embarrassment to come.
She was getting a handle on the kitchen. All the burners were turned down or
off, and the casseroles and Turkey were out of the oven. She started to put the
food on serving dishes, then got the monster platter out of the bottom cupboard
and levered the turkey aboard. Where was cook? Everything looked ready, but
cook was the expert.
She got the butter and milk and things out of the fridge and headed for the
dining room. Backing gently thru the door, she was shocked to see people
sitting at the table.
"Ah," said the CEO at the head of the table. "Only a little late" Beside him
sat a young girl, maybe 20. She had on a very low cut dress, and the semi sheer
material was stretched to contain her large breasts. Next to her was an older
gentleman, older than her owner. Next came the cook, followed by her husband,
and then her aunt at the other end of the table. On the other side there was
only one chair. It was occupied by the open mouthed security guard, the one
that that interned her in his office. He was staring at her nakedness. Anne
blushed massively, and nearly dropped the tray she carried.
Alan stared opened mouthed at the nude form of the girl. He would think about
it later, right now he just drank in the lovely naked body before him. He
recovered his senses and closed his mouth, as he heard the CEO address the girl.
"Missy, "the exec said, "Please proceed. Dinner has been delayed enough."
She was so humiliated, to be seen naked by the security guard. Her blush
extended down to the tops of her breasts. It dawned on her that the CEO had
addressed her. What had he said? To proceed....what... oh... with dinner! She
slowly turned to the table and placed the things from her tray on it, then
turned to return to the kitchen. As she pushed thru the door, she heard the
security guard's gasp........ Her blush deepened, he obviously had seen the
marks on her back and the condition of her ass. She forced herself to pick up
two of the side dishes and return to the dinning room. She tried not to meet
any eyes, and returned for more of the food. She brought all the food to the
table, and then filled coffee cups. Then she stood to the side bar, as was her
place. But they hadn't started yet. What were they waiting for, oh yes there
was still one guest missing.
"On Sunday's we all eat together", said the exec. "However, since you are being
punished, you shall have to be bound in our presence." He produced a piece of
rope from under his napkin, and motioned for her to approach. When she was
before him he examined her for a moment, (and she could feel the security guard
examining her from the rear) then finally turned her around to tie her hands
behind her (and allow the quest to examine her front to her shame). Now if you
would take your place we can begin". He gave her a spank to propel her forward
to the place at his left, between himself and the security guard, the place
without a chair.
"I believe introductions are in order" said the CEO He pointed to his right and
indicated the young lady. This is Fifi, she belongs to Mr. Johnson", he said
indicating the older gentleman. "Henry is on the board of directors, and CEO of
Johnson, Snelling and Borsch". Mr. Johnson was looking at her with something
she didn't want to think about. "Then we have Alan Jordon, the new chief of
security. This is Anne. Let's eat."
He stood and picked up the carving knife. "Missy, if you would bring me their
plates."
She was going to have to go to each person and present her backside to accept
their plate in her bound hands. God. How humiliating. She couldn't do it,
tears started to leak from her eyes. She presented herself to the young girl,
accepting her plate and pivoting to present it to the carver. He made her hold
it while he laid a nice cut of white meat on it. He gave her a light spank with
the flat of the knife, so she turned and represented the plate to the girl, and
then proceeded to the older gentleman. He didn't pick up his plate, but
caressed her wounded buttocks for a few seconds. After several more seconds, he
said,
"Well, take it Missy" He expected her to take the plate off the table.
Impossible, she couldn't get her hands to the plate without pushing her backside
right into his face and lap. She couldn't do that. Shit. Damn. She didn't
have a choice. She pushed back into his lap, stretching for the plate. Back,
bending slightly, reaching clumsily, and backing up some more. She was fully in
his lap now, struggling to reach the plate. His hand was exploring every inch
of her buttocks while she did.
She had it. But as she lifted it she felt him slap her buttocks hard. She
almost dropped it, giving a short yelp, but managed to hang on, barely. She
went to the head of the table and presented the plate for some meat, and with
the spank, returned to serve the older gentleman. When she approached cook, she
heard her say, 'Serve from the right and take from the left dear" Oh shit, how
had she forgotten. At least she was getting it right half the time. She was
sure she would be punished for each of the errors. She delivered the plates of
the cook, her husband/gardener, and her aunt. But when she came to the security
man, she had a flash of embarrassment, and miss-stepped falling right into his
lap. Since his eyes were on her every second, he caught her and looked deep
into her eyes for an instant, before returning her to her feet. It only made
the embarrassment higher (and something else too.) He then kindly handed her
his plate, not making her place herself in his lap again, and she got his entre.
When she handed it over he handed her own plate. As she waited for her entre to
be carved for her, it dawned on her; she had no hands to eat it with. She would
have to eat like an animal.
She returned to her place and everyone dug in, at least everyone but her. She
just stood there, as the security guard kept staring at her body at every
opportunity. When the first dish came to him he took a helping and turned to
hand it to her, mindlessly offering it to her plate as if she would take it and
serve herself. There was an awkward moment, and then the light went on. He had
a helpless naked female as his dinner quest. She would have to be helped thru
dinner! Incredible.
He dished some of the vegetables onto her plate, them started to hand the dish
past her, but he couldn't reach far enough to present it to the Mr. Young. He
held the dish to the side of the girl beside him, nudging her gently.
Anne couldn't believe it. She was naked at Sunday dinner, with seven fully
dressed people. They sat, while she stood, her hand bound behind her whipped
back, just above her bruised and welted buttocks. Yet, she was being expected
to participate as though nothing was amiss. To take the dish, she would have to
turn her naked wounded posterior to the man she had only just met. It would
place her butt almost in his face, where he could examine the marks intimately.
There were other intimate things he would be able to see too. Her blush peaked
again, as she turned to reach for the dish. It was heavier this way, and she
was glad he steadied it until she had control of it (or was he taking the extra
time to stare at her ass). She turned to present the dish to the Exec, and he
took it and caressed her cheek.
"Thank you my dear." He said, as he took the dish and served himself. Anne saw
that the security guard had another dish he was ladling onto her plate, so she
turned again to be ready to pass it along. This was so humiliating. (Can
someone's blush become permanent?)
The dishes were all passed, and everyone was eating except Anne, and Alan next
to her. Even the CEO had is head in his plate ignoring the pair next to him.
Finally, Alan got an idea. "I can't feed you up there. Why don't you kneel
down?" He saw a smile spread across the CEO's face out of the corner of his
eye.
Oh God, he was going to feed her. This was so humiliating, demeaning, and.....
She carefully lowered herself to one knee, and then both. She looked up at the
handsome man befside her. She was blushing, near crying, and......
He pulled her plate over in beside his own, and began cutting her food up. He
took her fork and stabbed a piece of turkey, turned and held it out to her.
She had to shuffle forward on her knees to get to the fork he held. When she
got close, he motioned with the fork, and she opened her mouth. He gently
placed the morsel in her mouth and she closed upon it, as he withdrew the fork.
His eyes were on her the entire time, looking into her eyes, boring into her
soul. He presented another forkful of food to her, then dabbed her mouth with
his napkin, then returned to his own meal for a minutes, joining the
conversation at the table.
He ignored her for only a minute, but she felt as though it was hours. He
finally picked up his water glass, took a drink, then seeming to realize she was
suddenly there, offered it to her. She took a sip, and of course spilled a
little. He feigned disgust, as he wiped the dribble from her lips, and then
wiped at her breasts, in case any had got down there. (it hadn't)
Dinner continued, with Anne being alternately, fed, ignored, admired, watered,
and occasionally, fondled. Her emotion rode with it, embarrassed, mad, elated,
sated, and aroused. She had never been on such a rollercoaster. She wasn't
getting a full meal, but that didn't matter. Her emotional state was being
stuffed. Her libido was near bursting.
Dinner was winding down. Everyone had eaten enough. The Mr. Wilson presently
addressed Alan, "Would you please untie her so she can clear and bring the
coffee."
Oh shit! She hadn't made coffee. With everything boiling over, she forgot the
one duty that was hers.
She stood and turned to the man at the head of the table, with tears forming in
her eyes. She been so.... What? But now, she came crashing back to earth,
knowing she would be punished, for this incident, even though it wasn't her
fault. Cook should have been there. It wasn't fair. Tears welled up in her
eyes.
"I'm sorry sir, there is no coffee made."
"Well then I suggest you get some made. Then clear the dishes while it brews.
You will of course be punished for each minute of delay.
Anne dashed to the kitchen and got the coffee started, then cleared the table
and started the dishes till she heard the coffee finish. She took the pot and
the hurried to the dining room.
"We will be retiring to the study, finish your duties, and present yourself
there for your punishment. You have 30 minutes." said the CEO.
She returned to the kitchen and the dishes. Her emotions were still in a
quandary, anger at the setup, arousal from the intimate contact at dinner, dread
for the coming punishment. Her mind was wandering, and she was distracted by
her body's responses, when it happened. She dropped a plate and it smashed to
the floor. The tears exploded from her eyes, her emotions finally overloaded.
She cried for nearly a full minute, before she finally got the broom and cleaned
up the mess.
She finished the dishes, and though she felt like she had completed a marathon,
she walked to the study. She was shocked at what she saw. Fifi was strung up
by her wrists, and cook was lashing her with the cat. The men were sitting in
front, watching with interest, her aunt kneeling at her master's side.
Fifi appeared to be in distress, struggling in her bonds, as the lash struck
again. Oh, she had a large ball gag in her mouth, blocking her cries. Cook
struck again, striking the girl's reddened buttocks, and then rapidly cutting
across the lower belly of the girl. Her violent scream was barely louder than
normal conversation. The girl's butt, back, belly, legs, and breast were all
well marked by the cat.
The older gentleman rose from his chair and approached the girl. He fondled her
body for a moment, causing moans to come from the gag. Finally, he grabbed her
sex in his hand, and rubbed it vigorously, while staring into her eyes.
"What do you want slut?" said the man.
Her only response was to hump against his hand.
"Do you want to get fucked?" he said. She continued to hump his hand, as she
nodded her head vigorously.
Do you know what you have to do to get fucked? She humped his hand and looking
into his eyes, slowly nodded her head.
"This slut lovess five to warm her up, so give her ten, so she won't enjoy it."
Turning back to the hanging girl he said. "Spread you legs, and keep them
open."
The crying girl slowly spread her ankles, then her knees, and then her legs
fully. It had to be hard to hold the position. After a few seconds, cook
stepped forward and flexed the cat's tails. Then using a full circle, underhand
style, she brought the cat up firmly between the legs of the hanging girl. A
scream struggled past the gag in her mouth, and her legs thrashed but didn't
close. The cat struck again, obviously causing the girl great pain, from the
scream that the gag subdued. The third stroke was viscous, and the girl closed
her eyes and screamed fully. Her legs trashing and kicking, Her pumping pelvis
trying to shake the pain off. She slowly opened her eyes and looked into her
owner's eyes, as she spread her legs wider.
SPLAT ! The cat struck again. The girl's eye closed and another muffled
scream sounded, but the legs stayed mostly open, though they pumped and kicked.
Her eyes had barely found her master, when the next stroke landed viciously
between her thighs. The eyes snapped shut, the hips pumped, and the legs
thrashed wildly, kicking and running, a scream nearly fully escaping the gag.
Long seconds passed before the eyes opened again, now pleading. Her owner
merely shook his head and motioned to her legs. Ever so slowly they opened.
The cat swung again, viciously tearing into the girl's sex. The legs pumping,
thrashing, and the scream full throated and long. The girl couldn't take much
more could she? But the cat struck again, even before the legs spread and the
eyes opened. Cook timed the stoke perfectly, catching the girl perfectly, as
the leg pumped. It produced a gurgle instead of a scream, as all the air was
already used.
The man interceded, and grabbed the girl's superheated sex. She jerked back but
he had a good grip, and jerked her back. Starring into her eyes, he waited for
her to look at him. "Do you still want to get fucked?"
Before he got the question out, she was nodding her head, not vigorously, she
was too tired for that, but firmly, and obviously begging beneath the gag.
He turned to the cook and held out his hand for the cat., then walked to the
cupboards, and replaced it with a vicious single-tail. He returned to the girl,
then taking a firm stance, swung the whip up into her open sex. Despite the gag
the scream was blood curdling, and long. The legs opened even wider for a
second, then started running and kicking, as the girl thrashed in her bonds. It
was a long time before the legs became motionless, longer still before the eyes
opened. The eyes were afire with pain, pleading, begging for any mercy. They
found none as the man motioned for her to spread her legs again.
Slowly, she spread her legs, her head shaking no as she did. He looked into her
eyes, and without blinking, brought the leather up again. Her eyes seemed to
pop out of the sockets, and her body went ridged for a long second, before
bursting into activity. A horrendous scream followed. As the activity slowed
he struck again. Again the body went rigid. Only a grunt escaped the gag.
Then the body slumped. The girl's eyes were slits, but she was conscious. He
lifted her chin with the whip, and waited for her to meet his eyes.
"You were told to keep you legs spread, so you will have one punishment stroke."
The girl shook, desperately trying to shake her head no, but there was to be no
mercy. "Spread them slut"
The girl was outright vibrating like a guitar string. She was near exhaustion.
The effort seemed Herculean, but slowly, she spread her legs.
Her owner, drew back the whip, and lashed her viscously across both breasts.
The lash took the girl's breath away, with its unexpected placement. The girl
screamed loudly despite the gag, and slumped in her bonds.
The man nodded and the cook lowered the chains holding the girl up. He guided
her down to the floor, removed the cuffs. Then he removed his pants, kicked her
legs apart and knelt between her legs.
He waited until she looked up, and then drove fully into her sex. She screamed
again. But he gave her no quarter, pounding into her vigorously. Her eyes full
of tears and little screams with each thrust, she started to hump him back,
slowly wrapping her legs around the man ravishing her. They were a blur of
motion, both trying to pound the other into oblivion. After a few seconds the
girl raised her hips and went rigid, screaming into the gag. The she slumped
back after long seconds, her legs hanging limply around her lover. However, he
did not falter, but continued to thrust into the girl. Soon she tightened her
legs and started humping back again. He let her carry the rhythm and reached up
to undo her gag, then picked up the pace again. He pounded into the girl, as
she pulled him down with her legs. Soon she was keening, panting, and begging
him to fuck her harder. Suddenly she exploded again, nearly crushing him with
her legs as she came again.
The couple continued for many minutes, the girl experiencing orgasm after
orgasm, until finally the man went rigid himself, and fell exhausted onto her.
By the time he rolled away, the CEO was there, and he rammed his cock into the
girl as hard as his partner had done. He grabbed the girl's breast and set up a
severe pounding of the young girls flaming sex. The girl screamed and came
almost immediately, and continued to orgasm every few minutes despite the
constant cries as the CEO fucked her wounded burning cunt. When the CEO
finished, the gardener took a turn, and the girl screamed her way thru another
few orgasms. Finally, Alan fell upon the girl and took his turn, but lasted
only a minute.
Anne raged when the security man dropped to the floor. She thought he wanted
her, and here he was fucking this bimbo slut. She turned and fled to her room,
slamming the door loudly and tossing herself on the bed in tears.
About ten minutes had passed, when the door exploded open. Mr. Young burst into
the room, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her out to the hall and down to
the study, with her screaming and kicking all the way. The French girl was
lying on an air mattress and her aunt and the cook were tending to her. The men
(except Mr. Young holding her hair) were smoking. She was dragged before the
men seated in their comfortable chairs, and tossed to the floor. Then he seated
himself and lit a cigar.
Anne was terrified. She knew she shouldn't have done what she did, but she was
hurt. At least she thought she was.......
As the chains descended above her head Anne looked around. Miss Julia, the
cook, was approaching her, with the remote for the winch in her hand. Her Aunt
was kneeling between her boss's legs licking his penis. She watched as her
aunt's tongue traveled the length again and again. Occasionally, she would
engulf the entire length for a few seconds before resuming her licking. After a
while she moved to the next chair, and repeated the actions on the gardener.
Anne realized she was cleaning them, licking up the juices of that French slut,
and the spending of the mean. She was disgusted by the sight and her aunt's
wantonness. Yet, as she watched closely, she remembered she too had performed
such a service. She wondered when she would have to perform it again, and if it
would be a less disgusting flavor than the last time.
Her aunt had reached the security guard. She reached up and gave it a big lick
from bottom to top, and he closed his eyes and sighed. Anne was livid again.
She liked the Security man. He wasn't like the others, she could tell. There
had been a kindness and innocence as he fed her dinner. But his closed eyes
indicated he was enjoying her aunt's attentions. He opened his eyes, and they
rose to watch as her wrists were slowly rising above her head. She was being
lifted onto her tiptoes, her body displayed to the room, but especially to those
of the guard. His eyes watched her rise, switching from her eyes, to her marked
tits, to the vee of her sex, then back up to her blushing face and down to her
blushed chest again. She noticed that his hips were moving ever so slightly,
then his hand reached out to caress the hair that tickled his crotch. But his
eyes stayed on her, boring into her flesh. His eyes never left her as he
shuddered.
Anne was in turmoil, had he cum due to her aunt's ministrations, or had he
imagined that it was she consuming his dick. Was it the physical stimulation,
or the mental image that triggered his release? She saw her aunt return to
licking the tool before her, and then realized that the man's eyes had never
left her. The image of her being the one licking that beautiful cock would not
leave her brain. She felt a tingling between her thighs, and realized her
tongue was brushing her lips nervously.
Anne hung from the ceiling as the other lapsed into conversation, often
discussing her for a few moments, before talking of baseball and the upcoming
football season. She sagged as the CEO explained the reason she was hanging
before them, blushed furiously when the discussed her body, but mostly she was
bored by the talk of sports.
Her arms ached, and she shifted from foot to foot, trying to ease her tiring
muscles. How long would they leave her like this? She was no longer aroused,
just sore. They're comments about her no longer caused her to blush. She saw
movement in the corner of her eye and turned to see the cook with a tray of
coffee. She served the men, and then walked to the cupboards. She removed some
items Anne couldn't see, but the tails of the flogger hung in plain sight. She
stepped over to Anne, and placed the things on the floor. She then turned and
stripped off the crisp white blouse she was wearing. Underneath, she wore a
tight black corset, which pushed her breast up and in, but did not cover them.
At a nod from the CEO she turned back to Anne and stooped to pick up something
from the floor. She showed it to Anne. I was a large red rubber ball attached
to some straps. She placed the ball against her lips. "You'd best open up;
you've earned enough distractions to go with your punishment.
Anne looked at the gag, then at the woman holding it, then at the executive.
Then she looked at the gag again, licked her lips and swallowed deeply. Slowly,
nervously, dreadingly, she opened her mouth. The gag was forced into her mouth.
It was huge, stretching her jaw uncomfortably, but there was a large hole thru
it, and she didn't know how bad she would need that hole. The straps were
tugged, pulling it deeper into her mouth. It was buckled tight, very tight.
Then the cook leaned to her ear and addressed the girl.
"Your little tantrum has added a few distractions to your punishment. It would
have been wise to have contained your emotions."
She stooped and raised several items into the girl's sight. Clothespins.
Several clothespins. The cook knelt before the girl, and reached for the girl's
sex. She rubbed it lightly, and with the girl's fear and her stimulation caused
it to swell. She grabbed the outer lips and pulled them back, and down. She
massaged them till they were full and prominent. Then she pulled one down
again. Slowly she released a clothespin to tightly grab the swollen lip. Anne
gave a ragged moan thru the gag.
Ms Julia grabbed the other lip and attached a pin to it. Another gasp struggled
passed the gag and another as she attached a second pin to the same side.
Anne eyes clouded with tears. The clips hurt. She moaned again as the first
lip received its second clip. Anne tried to pant to blow the pain away, but it
just didn't work well with her mouth blocked. Slowly, she adjusted to the
pain.
Ms Julia had not yet risen. She watched as the girl's breathing slowed. When
it reached a reasonable level, she reached once more for the girl's sex. She
reached in and rummaged around until she got a hold of the girl's right inner
labia. She slowly pulled it down, as Anne mewed negatively. Slowly, she placed
a clothespin over the flesh and slowly let it go.
Anne grunted loudly, trying to beg for removal of the excruciating clips. Moans
and whimpers continued as her other in labia was slowly dragged from hiding.
The grunts and whimpers increased even before the clip closed on the tender
flesh.
The mistress stood, and said to the struggling girl, "You don't have any say in
who uses you, OR in who someone chooses to use. You are a slave and a slave
only serves. Understand!"
Slowly, the girl nodded her head. The pain was lessening now, still intense,
but bearable.
"Your punishment will now commence. Your master has ordered 75 lashes with the
flogger, to all areas of your body. Though I may not strike between your legs,
I can try to dislodge the pins. I unfortunately must divide the strokes up
equally between all your whip-able parts. Are you ready to begin?"
Anne was stuck on the number 75. 75 times the lash would fall upon her. She
was sure she would scream all 75 times. Slowly, two thoughts crept into her
brain. One, some of those strokes would fall on damaged flesh. Her buttocks
and breasts were still bruised and swollen. What would it feel like on those
abused parts? Then, she realized what the cook had said. She was going to try
to tear the clips free with the whip. Oh no.
The flogger fell on her back. It stung terribly. She shrieked, gagged there
was no sense holding back. It fell again, and again, the strands igniting
multiple flames of agony in her back. Five times the lashes crossed her back.
Then her question was answered.
The strands cut viciously into her buttocks. Yep it was worse. She gave a full
throated scream thru the gag. "aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!' "ggggaaaaaaa"
"iiiieeeeeeee" "aaaaaawwwwwww" "i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i" Five
times the flames leaped from her derriere.
The lashes reached her thighs. They were yet unmarked. The leather tore into
them, but she hardly noticed, the fire in her butt consuming all her attention.
The lashes fell again, and again, again, and again. Well maybe she did notice.
"eeeeeee eeeeeee eeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeee"
The respite was short, and then the fronts of her thighs ignited. Five times
the lashes fell here. She shrieked and squealed thru the first four. The fifth
caught the clothespins as it pulled her thigh open.
"nnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooo"
The lashes move up. She tried to prepare for the pain of the clothespins being
torn from her tender parts. "gguuh" She tries to fold in half as the air
exploded from her lungs. The lashes had torn into her lower belly. The cook
had delivered a severe stoke knowing the target was not expecting the stroke to
fall there.
Four more times the leather fell on the soft flesh of her gut, but none brought
forth a reaction like the first. Cook paused.
It took a second for Anne to realize that the next strokes would fall on
intimate areas. How would she survive the next ten falls of the leather? Her
breasts were already a mess and the clips on her sex would definitely be
agonizing as they came off. She got the answer.
The strands fell across her left breast. "AAaaaaiiiiiiii"! The scream had
power behind it. All the anticipation had been correct. It hurt like hell.
Her right tit exploded in pain. "oooowwwwwwww" She didn't have time to think
about any more. The lashes fell as soon as she drew a breath after her scream.
"aaaahhhhh! ssssssssss nooooooooo! sssssss gggaaaaaaa".
The cook swung the flogger with a twirl. The lashes didn't spread out, but
stayed packed together. Her target, the Mons Veneris. The strands struck
true, and the clips reverberated with the impact.
Oh God. "YYeeeooooooowwwwwwwwww" ! Anne had never felt anything like it. The
impact sent seismic wave thru her female parts. She was struck there again.
"gggaaaaaaaaaaaaa" She could feel a tiny bit of air burrrp thru her cervix as
her uterus compressed. The leather fell again, but there was no twist this
time. The strands spreading the stinging lash over a wider area, catching the
clips. The clips tried to follow the lash, before springing back. Anne's
scream was beautiful and awful at the same time.
The lash struck again, twisted, compact, and thunderous on the tender mons.
Seismic waves pounded into her uterus and her very ovaries. She'd never felt
her ovaries before, and hoped she never would again. She screamed again.
The fifth stoke was lower, the strands spread out, and jerked back as they
struck. Every one of the clips was driven down, and then pulled left as it
tried to follow the whip. Two of them moved, sliding millimeters across the
flesh, feeling like tears to the screaming girl.
Cook returned to the girls back, delivering five quick hard strokes,
interrupting the screams with the rapid application. Then she applied five more
to the back of the girl's thighs, working from the knees upward. It would
require a WTA line judge to determine if the last of the five was on the thighs
or the buttocks, the outer stands lashing both. Anne's screams were pants now
timed to the lash. "uugg, ooww, aahh ggii, iiii"
The mistress paused, letting the girl draw desperately need air into her lungs.
The girl was covered in sweat. Cook brushed the hair from her eyes, and then
wiped sweat from the girl. She drew it to her mouth, and licked her finger.
"It even tastes different, tangier" she said. The she stepped back and raised
the leathers.
She struck the belly, catching the girl by surprise, but only getting a squeal.
She lashed at the girls naval, then below it, then above, a couple of stray
strands reaching the mons and the breasts respectively. The last stroke was a
vicious cut straight across the naval. That one finally brought a proper
scream.
The lash struck her upper thighs. They were just beginning to swell from the
previous attentions. It hurt badly, but as she grunted her disapproval of the
lash, she knew that the remaining sites would bring much more pain than this.
She endured the next four with grunts, whimpers and moans.
The lash that struck her ass was vicious. It burned a string of welts across
the globes. She screamed, her bruised and swollen butt yelling its indignation.
Again the lashed welted her ass, and her scream renewed itself. Surely she was
being cut to ribbons. The next cut low, where the buttocks met the thighs, but
definitely in. 30-Love.
Anne screamed foul, or something like that. The next cut was higher, halfway to
the peaks, but the scream changed not at all. Another followed in the same
place. The scream wasn't any louder, but it was half an octave higher. Game,
Set.
The sixth lash was a surprise, but the scream was ready anyway. It cut across
the center of her cheeks, cutting deep into the flesh and muscle. The next just
continued the scream, raising further welts on the damaged flesh. The mistress
paused. Anne panted her way back from the edge.
Despite her pain, Anne tried to focus. Gasp, wheeze. Was she done? She
couldn't take much more. Slowly, she realized that there were two odd strokes;
she had been whipped in groups of five until now. What did that mean? There
were no more strokes coming. Please be done. Breathe in. But she knew that
there were two spots punished the first time around, that weren't yet done on
the second set. Breathe out.
My god. Her two most intimate parts were going to receive their 5 each, AND
SHARE THREE EXTRA STROKES. Her tears poured again at the thought. It was soooo
unfair.
She heard some conversation, but tried to ignore it. She could hear a man say
"I couldn't", but the burst of voices that answered were a blur. Who cared?
While they argued, she could rest. The conversation continued.
The conversation ended. There was the sound of moving around. She knew what
that meant. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Alan was getting out of his chair,
was he leaving? He walked toward her, stopping to stare into her eyes, then her
tits, and then back to her eyes.
"I guess I get to finish you punishment", he said as he raised the flogger held
in his hand. "They insist that I not hold back"
'NOOOOOOOOOOO' They couldn't let him. She liked him. He was nice. He
wouldn't hurt her.
What he did first surprised her. He knelt before her and gently removed a
clothespin. She shrieked loudly. Gently? It hurt like hell. He gave her a
minute, and then he removed the next one. It was as bad as the first. Gently
he tried to massage the throbbing flesh. Finally, all the clips were off, and
his hand was rubbing her whole mound, causing her breathing to change. Just as
the feeling turn to something other than pain, the security man finally stood
and looked deep into her eyes for a long minute.
He stepped to her side, and gave the flogger a shake, trying to measure the
distance. He looked her in the eye. She tried to read him. What she saw raised
and dashed her hopes. Lust, she saw raw lust in his eyes. Was it because he
found her attractive? Was it because he found the marks on her breast exciting?
Or was it because he was going to hurt her?
Alan lifted the instrument. He looked straight into the girl's eyes and swung.
The lash was not very good. He eyes weren't on the target, and he was busier
watching than using his muscles. The lash was high, striking her upper chest,
but half the strand caught the upper slope of her breasts. She gave a shriek.
Alan realized he could not watch the girl and strike accurately. Even though
the sight he had just witnessed was beautiful. She had gone from lust, to
begging, to pain, and all beautiful. This babe was just awesome. He couldn't
take his eyes off her.
"Excuse me, Alan". The CEO interrupted his revere. "I believe we were in the
middle of punishing a thief, were we not." His words were hard, but his mouth
held mirth at the corners. He wasn't sure which of these two was under the
thumb of which. Well, he'd have to push that in the right direction. With the
way he was feeling about his assistant, he might need someone to be the girl's
keeper. "Well."
Alan looked at the CEO. Yes, that was right. The girl had stolen from the
company. She did deserve the punishment. And he was glad she wouldn't be going
to jail, sure it would ruin her beauty. He turned back to the girl, drudging up
as stern a look as he could. There was a crushed look in her eyes now.
Reluctantly, he raised his arm.
He struck her firmly across both breasts. The blow wasn't severe, but it was
strong, especially on bruised swollen tits. Anne tried to be strong for him.
She would show him how strong she was. She blinked back the tears, and looked
into his eyes, and gave a tiny nod.
She was telling him it was alright, and she was ready. He brought the flogger
across her tits again, harder this time. Anne gave a short shriek, and a groan
struggling to contain her pain. Her swollen tits hurt terribly. Maybe she
wasn't that strong.
He struck again. This time he watched the lashes compress the swelling of her
breast. Then the boob rebounded seeming to reach out to him.
It was too much. Anne let loose with an agonizing wounded cry. Tears flooded
her eyes. All though of her bravery evaporated.
He struck again, still watching the reaction of the breast meat. It was
fascinating. The bouncing. The reddening. Her spasms. Lifting her chest as
if asking for more, then receding to shake and jerk as she tried to shake off
the pain.
He struck again, pulling back to spread the lashed over the nearer boob. It was
a replay of the previous action, but he watched it as if it was the first time.
Amazing. Incredible. Awesome. If he hadn't witnessed Ms Julia punishing the
girl, the thrashing of the French girl and her response to her ravishment, he
would have thought such punishment obscene, vulgur. Yet now here he was
applying it.
"Alan, I believe you have an offer to make", the CEO interrupted the two.
He wanted to keep drinking in the babe's body, but he wanted something else too.
He leaned down to the girl's ear.
"I know you're a virgin, so this will be a difficult choice. You can accept ten
additional strokes to your breasts, and the final three to you mons. Then you
will hang for 30 minutes and be taken to your room."
TEN MORE! She couldn't take it. Somehow she thought that might be the easy
choice.
"OR, you can have a chance to orgasm. You will spread your legs like Fife for
the final three, and then I will take your virginity, and do my best to bring
you pleasure. Then you can stay for the evening, though you must serve the
others."
Oh god, she wanted to do it with this guy, but the rest was scary. Way too
scary.
"One last thing. If you refuse your chance to orgasm, he says you will not get
another chance for two weeks".
God. She'd already been so horny that she had tried to masturbate, despite the
rules. This shit was making her libido fairly explode. 14 days with what she
was sure would be a raging sexual need, would be a severe punishment in itself.
Still .........
Just then he leaned forward and kissed her, full on the mouth. Passionately.
She responded kissing him back. She tried to desperately to follow his lips as
he withdrew. Her decision was made
FUCK ME, PLEASEEEE.
He lean back, and gave her another kiss. The he stepped in front of her. They
stared at each other for long seconds. Then he said a single word. "Open."
She slowly spread her feet, her eyes lowering and a blush spreading to her
cheeks. She'd never voluntarily exposed herself so intimately. She shook as
she struggled to get her legs farther apart. She hung exposed for seconds,
waiting. She finally opened her eyes. As soon as her eyes met his, his gaze
lowered. They dropped to her open sex. Then slowly he readied the flogger.
SPLAT! The leather smashed into her labia. It felt like she'd been struck by
lightening. Her scream was shrill, animal like, and long. Her legs thrashed,
and she jerked at the chains holding her arms. She was a cornucopia of
movement, all straining muscles and tight tendons.
The girl's efforts slowed, and finally she came to rest. IT was further seconds
before she got her feet under her and opened her eyes. Their eyes met again,
volumes passing between them.
A throat cleared purposefully behind them. Finally he motioned to her legs, and
she slowly, hesitantly spread them as wide as she could.
SSSSSˇSwick. The flogger stuck true again, pounding into her virgin cunt. As
she screamed again, she realized this one was stronger, but still she knew it
wasn't all he had. It didn't matter. Her pussy felt like a red hot mallet had
slammed into her sex. "IIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"
Her performance was repeated. Thrashing, struggling, running, and jerking. It
took her longer to still this time and longer still to open her tear filled
eyes. She had to blink repeatedly to clear them. Alan reached forward and
stroked her cheek, concerned, yet randy as hell.
She tried to convey her forgiveness thru her pain. She knew she was the one
responsible for her punishment. Despite the pain, her sex was alive; the fire
in her loins was attacking from inside as well as out. How strange that
detached portion of her brain thought.
AS her breathing stabilized, her libido grew. Only one more and she could have
this man as a woman should. She knew what she had to do first, so slowly she
opened her legs wide. She begged with her eyes. "Please" she whispered. "Do
it, and Fuck me."
He couldn't believe she would ask for the lash to fall where it would. This
girl was incredible. He kissed her hard a last time, the stood and delivered a
last vicious stroke.
Anne's scream was severe. It felt like she had been split in two. She was sure
she was marked for life. It was awful, she screamed again. Her thrashing
extinguished quicker this time not because it hurt less, but because she was
exhausted. She hung limp in the chains.
She felt her arms lowering, darn that hurts, and felt her body slowly puddling
to the floor. She felt hands guiding her, and stretching her out supine. Those
hands caressed her body, causing sharp intakes of breath when touching
particularly sensitive areas. They disappeared momentarily, then returned on
her thighs, spreading them.
She forced her eyes opened, he was naked now, between her thighs. Her eyes were
pleading, hoping he'd take the pain away, fearing the pain that would come
first. He fell onto his arms not quite touching her. The she felt her sex
throb. He'd placed he prick on her labia. It felt cold on her inflamed flesh.
She locked her eyes on his and said a single word.
"Please"
"Ahhhhhhhh!" He rammed into her as far as her hymen. Her burning flesh hot
against is cock. He let her draw a breath after her scream then jammed himself
thru her hymen.
"IIIEEEeeeee"! Her scream had more vigor than the last. She was positively
burning, wet, tight, and oh so hot. He drew back slightly, and drove himself
fully into her.
She'd been stabbed with a hot knife, no a sword. Her sex burned, and torn, she
felt. He was pulling out, but stopped before he left completely.
He rammed back in, bring a half scream from the girl. Then he set up a steady
pace.
She was giving a strangled cry with each inward stroke. The pain was intense,
but each grunt seemed to let it leak away a little. There was also the other
feeling, but it couldn't get thru.
"Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh" Her eyes were still screwed
tightly shut. But the tingle was quietly growing. Her pain was hiding it.
He was sliding in and out now, her virginal blood lubricating his passage, but
there was more. Her body's natural reaction was mixing with the blood. Damn
this was good, better than his earlier mating. He could do this all night.
"Eh Eh Eh Eh Eh Eh Eh Eh Eh Eh". The pain was lessening, but still she couldn't
concentrate on anything else. The tingle had grown but still couldn't get her
attention.
"Nn Nn Nn Nn Nn" She was beginning to feel the penetration of her inner
recesses, thru the pain. It felt good, pleasurable.
"NnEhOoo" he'd switched to longer, deeper strokes. The stretch, the impact, and
the caress of her cervix. "NnEhOoo" The throbbing changed. It was coming from
a different center now tooˇˇˇ
"OHHhhh" "OHHhhh" "OOHHhhh" It felt different now. Not painful, though she felt
pain elsewhere down there. Not ticklish, though she felt as if she wanted to
laugh. Different? New? Pleasurable? That was it, pleasurable.
"Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh Ahh" it was growing. Expanding. Improving. She realized
her hips were thrusting up to meet each entrance into the depth of her cunt.
They drove faster and faster, harder and harder......
"IIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"! It had hit like a ton of
bricks. Her body went rigid, her hips the only thing not completely still.
When her scream ran out, she didn't even draw the next breath; her body just
reverberated like a string on a base fiddle. On and on she tremorred.
He switched with her orgasm, trading length for speed. Using just the end of
his stroke to stay as deeply within her as possible.
She drew a breath, and fell back to the floor, in exhaustion.
Alan slowed his strokes, drawing one hand up to wipe his face. He was going to
have to pace himself, he was sure it would take him awhile to cum for the third
time since lunch. He thrust lightly for nearly, a minute. The she opened her
eyes, staring in wonderment at the man probing her depths. As he leaned down
and kissed her, her hips started a swirling, humping motion. He increased his
stroke again.
It felt great. She could feel every inch of the penetration now. She squeezed
her vagina as hard as she could, more imagining than truly feeling each vein
wrinkle and ridge of his cock.
Their pace picked up again, he started to hammer the girl beneath him again.
Her arms encircled him as he stroked into her. She was humping harder. He
could see her building to another peak. He remembered that article he read in a
magazine once. Some book review, a how to something or other1. Nine short
shallow strokes, then one full deep one, repeat. No better time to try than
now. 1,2 3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10 1,2,...
Anne was responding to the rhythm. a a a a a a a a a Ahh o o o o o o o o o
OHHH i i i i i i i i i EEE. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and
matched his rhythm. But her legs were pulling him deeper. He fought to
maintain his placement, but she was pulling relentlessly. He was losing ground,
or rather gaining it. He tried to keep the same stroke, and was soon bumping
into her cervix each tenth stroke. Soon he was fairly pounding on that portal.
"NO o o o o o o o o o No o o o o o o o o o MY GOD!" Anne exploded again
giving a couple of deliberant spaced thrusts, then appear to be electrocuted.
Rigid, yet spasmming at the same time. On ten he just stayed at the bottom of
her cunt, feeling the muscles grab and milk at his cock. It was almost enough
for him too, but not quite. When she relaxed he started a slow leisurely
copulation. More to keep him erect than to stimulate her.
He was exhausted, panting almost as hard as she had moments ago. When she
opened her eyes he gently rolled them both over. She looked at him confused for
a minute, and then she figured it out. Slowly, clumsily she started to hump at
him.
She sat up to get more leverage, and gave and involuntary gasp. Holy Hannah.
He reached the very bottom ( or was it top) of her vagina. Interesting. She
set up a tentative rhythm. This was great. He was tapping just above her
cervix. TAP TAP TAP What would happen if.....?
She started slam fucking him. Her hands on his chest she levered up then jammed
herself down as hard as possible. BAM BAM BAM BAM
He felt his cock banging against the roof of her cunt. She was also milking the
very root of his tool. Thank you, god of stamina, for only granting me an
average blessing. There was something to be said for being on the bottom.
She rode him vigorously. This was great. She could feel every inch of this
wonderful dick. It was reaching places that she never knew she had. It
stretched her wonderfully. However, the tingling was only moderate. Well it
was almost as strong as what she had done with her fingers, but not near the
level she had reached twice in the last few minutes. Still she rode on, it was
too good to quit.
She had him near the edge, so close. He just needed that little extra, but he
wasn't going to interrupt. It felt too good. She was tiring though, her hips
were less demanding. Finally, she slowed, and fell forward onto his chest.
For some reason he grabbed her hips, down low at the top of the protruding bone.
He wanted to continue to feel her sliding on his cock. He pushed her down, and
pulled her back up his body. It felt good, he levered her body up and down over
his.
Her eyes flew opened. "AHHH. AHHH. WWHAT. AAREE. YOUU. DOOO. ING?
He kept up the pushing and pulling. He wasn't thrusting at all, just their
loins pressed together as he slid her whole body up and down his.
AHH. AHHH. AHHHH. AHHHHHH. OH GOD, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEE"
Her orgasm was all he needed. The muscles of her vagina felt like a rolling
machine on all sides of his cock. It was too much; he blasted his cum into her
soft box, as she collapsed on top of him. They kissed intimately as their
eyes closed.
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