Cute Girls

Painful Lessons

*Scene 1 – Confessions*

“Hello? Who is it? “Hello…?”"

Sherry hated it when she had to get up from dinner to answer the phone and it ended up being a damn telemarketer, or worse – like now – when all she heard was dead air. She was about to hang up when she heard his voice.

“Impatient, aren’t we tonight, darling? I “do “hope I interrupted you,” he said. The tone in his voice was playful yet, as always, commanding.

Sherry’s stomach knotted instantly. She took a deep breath to calm herself, afraid that anxiety in her voice would betray her. “Calm, be calm, oh god, why now!” She swallowed hard, and answered, using as bland and ordinary a tone as she could manage.

“Yes. You did. We are having dinner now. May I call you back later?”

Her innocuous-sounding words masked the turmoil that churned inside her. Sherry glanced over at her husband sitting with his back to her in the dining room, wolfing down the dinner she had prepared for him. He was oblivious to her words as usual; his face buried in the sports pages of the newspaper he used as his placemat and as his shield to avoid having to engage in any form of unnecessary conversation with Sherry, his wife of ten years. The omnipresent CNN talking head droning from the nearby TV set served as yet another barrier to separate them.

“No, Sherry, you may “not” call me back later. I know he isn’t paying any attention. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Sherry bit her lip. “Yes, you are correct, as always.” She almost tacked on the “Sir” she used when addressing him in person. That would have probably pricked up her husband’s ears, if he could hear her over the TV set. Jealousy was his middle name.

“Are you behind the kitchen counter now?” he asked. He knew everything about her, and her life, down to the layout of her kitchen and the fact that she had freshly-blooming daffodils in a pot by the window, next to the sink.

“Yes.” Sherry knew what was going to come next. The goose bumps appeared on her arms, like magic. His words always did that to her.

“Good. I want you to begin to masturbate for me now, Sherry. You’re wearing your usual little camisole top and skirt combination, right?”

“I am,” Sherry replied. Her heart began to beat faster. Her knees and her legs seemed suddenly unable to support her. She brushed her hair back off her face. “Why now – today? Why?”

“Press your finger against your slit, Sherry. You’re not wearing any panties underneath, are you? Make my girl’s pussy wet for me.”

Sherry’s voice caught in her throat. “Damn him!” He would know, as soon as she spoke. Her voice would betray her, even if her words lied convincingly. She rubbed her pussy with her right hand, while she watched her husband’s back, as he sat there shoveling food into his mouth.

“I’m sorry….” The ‘Sir’ almost slipped out again, due to the sudden fear she felt about the confession she was about to make. “I do have – I mean I am…”

His voice was quiet a moment before he spoke. His words were clipped and measured, conveying his displeasure far more than what he actually said.

“You “are” wearing panties, aren’t you Sherry? Even though I have forbidden you to wear them. Confess. Tell me you have disobeyed me. Now, slut!”

“Yes, you are right. I am. I’m sorry. I can’t hide anything from you.”

Sherry was, indeed, truly sorry. She hated to disobey him, but today she had had that appointment at doctor’s office. It was bad enough that she had to lie there and be examined with her pussy freshly shaven and completely bare, as he had demanded she be at all times now. To have had to make it evident to the nurse and the doctor that she no longer wore panties either would have been too humiliating to contemplate. So she had worn them.

She had rationalized it by not thinking of the minimal-coverage, leopard-print silk thong as being “real “panties. Anybody who saw them would think of them as more of a g-string than panties. Panties, after all, “covered” and “concealed.” This scrap of cloth revealed and teased and titillated.

And she couldn’t tell him about it being an indecently-tiny thong instead of ‘real’ panties, or about the doctor visit - not now anyway. Not with Danny sitting there in the next room. But in the end, it didn’t matter at all. Not to him. No amount of explaining would make the slightest difference. Sherry knew what was in store for her.

“I am going to have to punish you, Sherry. You know what you have coming, don’t you? You have been very bad, you know. You are a naughty, willful little slut, and you will be punished for your disobedience.” He paused to let his words sink in. “You know I am right, and that you deserve whatever I decide to mete out to you, don’t you, Sherry?”

“Yes, I know. I’ll do whatever is necessary to… to make amends.” Sherry’s fingers twisted the tips of her long blonde hair into knots.

“I want you to bring yourself to the edge of orgasm. Right now. While you stand there talking to me. Do it, Sherry.”

“”Please…”" Sherry’s voice begged for forgiveness more than her half-whispered words did. “Not now. I can do it later, if you wish…”

“No, Sherry. I want you to do it now. I “know” he is there. You will stand there behind him and you will masturbate and get your pussy dripping wet and spasming with wanting to come”. Make those fucking panties wet, Sherry!”"

Sherry began to rub her clit harder and harder, as she wordlessly followed his commands. The moisture seeped out of her cunt, soaking the offending scrap of silk and making her fingers slippery and wet. Sherry’s fingers moved urgently up and down the length of her puffy pink lips, the friction forcing the small triangle of silk between her labia and into her cunt.

Sherry clenched and unclenched the muscles in her ass as she worked her fingers into her pussy. Glancing down, she saw that her nipples were as hard as rocks. They poked impudently through the smooth white silk that covered her tits. “Please, Danny, don’t come in here looking for seconds. Not now!”

“Talk to me, Sherry. Tell me what it feels like to be my little slut, fingering your cunt for me, making yourself hot and wet, behind your unsuspecting husband’s back.”

“Umm, yes, I can’t really describe it. You know what it is like for me. How much I love it and hate it at the same time. I can’t stop, though. You know I can’t stop.”

“Oh, but you will stop when I tell you to, Sherry. That is part of your punishment for disobeying me. I want a finger deep inside your disobedient cunt, Sherry. All the way in. I want it in there “now”.”

“Yes, yes…I’m doing it. Yes. Please… Please forgive me, I will never… I will never do… do that again.”

Sherry bit her lip as her cunt muscles spasmed around her finger. Her eyes were on the back of her husband’s head in the next room, but her mind was focused on the man who was controlling her hands and her body, making her masturbate here in her own kitchen, and leading her further into the dark labyrinth of her submission to him.

The knowledge of what she was doing made Sherry feel so wicked and naughty that she almost orgasmed. She “was “a nasty little slut. And she “did” need to be punished. She had disobeyed him, and she had been caught, before she had even had an opportunity to confess.

She could already smell the leather and hear the crack of the strap on her ass and feel the searing, burning pain. Knowing what was in store for her made Sherry dizzy with lust.

Sherry whispered into the phone, “I have one finger inside me. Please let me put another one in. And please, please may I come for you? Let me come for you, Sir. Let me do it while Danny is so close. I want to come for you right now, while he is here. Let that be my punishment - making me come for you in my husband’s presence.”

She knew he would never let her off that easy, but she wanted to pour some more gasoline on the fire. When it came to provoking a punishment, Sherry was a pyromaniac.

He swiftly matched her bet, and raised the ante higher.

“I want “three” fingers inside your naked cunt, Sherry. And no, you will not come, you little tease. Smear your juices all over your cunt. Paint your nipples with your cream. I want you hot and wet, and begging to come. But you will “not” step over that line, Sherry. You will not come. Not now. And not for a very long time.”

Sherry moaned quietly into the phone. “Please, oh gawd, please. I’m begging you. Let me come. Let your horny little fuckslut come for you. I’ll do anything! Please….”

Sherry heard him chuckling at her predicament. She knew that his cock was hard and wanting to take her; as he envisioned her humping her fingers next to the stove in her kitchen while she kept a wary eye on her husband a few feet, and an eternity of light-years, away.

“No, you will “not “come. You will stop masturbating NOW, Sherry. You will return to your dinner. You will make the seat of your chair wet with yourself when you sit down, and you will inhale the scent of your submission each time you lift your fork to your mouth. You will sit across from your husband with your juices oozing out of your slit and your fingers wet with the essence of your sin, and you will make small talk and you will act as if everything was completely ordinary and mundane – as it was before you met me – and you will finish your dinner, my wicked little pet, and then you will come…”

He paused for dramatic effect. “…to me, this evening. You will deliver yourself to me for the rest of your punishment.”

“Ohmigod, Sir. Please, not tonight. How will I get out? What excuse can I make?” Sherry’s mind was in a whirl at the thought of what was being demanded of her.

“You will find a way, Sherry. I know you will. I am staying at the hotel downtown tonight, for a business meeting. You will come to me here. You will wear what you are wearing now – including the panties that provoked your punishment. I want to see them with my own eyes. I want to see how you have failed me.”

Sherry discovered that she still had her fingers in her pussy, though they were now motionless. She withdrew them and held them up to her face so she could lick them clean and hide the visual evidence of her lust.

“Yes. I will be there.” She slurped loudly as she cleaned her fingers, so he could hear her doing it. “Around 7:30? Is that OK?”

“Yes. 7:30 sharp. Le Meridien, suite 875. You have been here before, Sherry. It is time for you to return.”

“Yes, thank you. I will be there. Goodbye, Sir.”

Sherry hung up the phone. Her body was still pleading with her brain for the orgasm it had been denied. But she knew she would not give in. Not now. She knew it would be so much better, later, after she had been punished. And she knew she could not hide it from him if she did come now, before presenting herself to him at his hotel. He would see it in her eyes the moment she crossed the threshold. Sherry shuddered at the thought. As it was, her punishment would be long and drawn out, and insanely wonderful.

She was his. He owned Sherry, and her cunt and her soft, sweet ass. The ass that so very much loved to be spanked. The ass that “needed” to be spanked. The ass that turned such a lovely dark pink when it was whipped with the strap or a flogger. The ass she was going to lay across his lap again, tonight.

Sherry returned to the dinner table. She felt like a slut in heat as she sat down across from Danny. “How can he not know what I have just done? Can’t he see it in my eyes? In the way I’m squirming on the chair, rubbing my thighs together, enjoying my wetness? Wanting to have another man’s cock in my pussy right – fucking - now. Needing to be taken and used like a nasty little cumslut and be forced to beg for my orgasm?”

Sherry sucked on her fingertips while she stared at her husband cleaning the last of the peas off his plate. “No, not you, Danny. Him. Not your cock. I want his cock inside me. Only his. I want him to use me and punish me and fuck me and hold me and hurt me and want me…”

“I have to go out tonight, Sherry announced. She looked at Danny to gauge his reaction. Unable to stop herself, she had her hands in her lap, with a finger between her legs, rubbing her clit “I’m going to meet Colleen and Anne at the mall. We’re going to shop the sales and then go to a move – a chick-flick, one that you wouldn’t be caught dead at.”

“Yeah, OK. Don’t max out the credit card again like you did last month. You buy too damn many clothes. Too goddamn fucking many. It’s not like you need to dress up and show off for anybody, you know.” The last of the peas disappeared into his mouth. “Have fun, doing the girls night out thing. I’ll leave the alarm turned off when I go to bed.”

*Scene 2 – Punishment and Redemption*

The end of rush hour traffic had been much easier than she had expected, and Sherry had given her car keys to the valet and entered the Le Meridien’s lobby at 7:05. Knowing that it was equally bad form to arrive early as it was to be late, she ducked into the hotel bar to hide out and wait until it was time for her to cross the threshold of suite 875 - and time to leave Sherry the suburban wife behind, and become Sherry the disobedient little slut who had been summoned to receive her punishment.

The next twenty minutes seemed like an eternity. The handful of men in the bar spent the entire time trying to decide if Sherry was approachable or not, and leering at her tits and legs from across the small room. Thankfully, none of them had the courage to try to pick her up.

I’m sorry, Sir, but I cannot go out to dinner with you and go back to your room later to spend the night. Please, don’t be disappointed. You see, I am a very naughty little girl who wore panties today when she shouldn’t have, and I am here to be punished for my disobedience. What? You don’t believe me? Would you like to see the panties? No??? Are you sure??? They aren’t even panties, really. More of a g-string, one that just barely covers my pussy. But no matter, my ass will be warmed for my inability to follow orders. Quelle domage.

Sherry smiled at her image in the mirror behind the bar at the thought, and the expression of incredulity that her little declaration would surely bring to the face of the poor, brave soul who would be standing there with his hands in his pants, feeling his erection deflate at her words.

Sherry looked at the suits surrounding her in the dark, intimate space of the bar.

“Wimps! If you can’t tame me, and bend me to your will, you can’t have me!”

Sherry cringed a bit. That last thought was too true. She was married to her husband, and he loved her – at least most of the time, even if he did not always appreciate her – but he didn’t own her, and he certainly did not bend her to his will.

Danny loves me, and he fucks me and he can make me come; but he doesn’t own me - or thrill me - like the man upstairs in room 875 does.

After downing a Cosmopolitan and nibbling on some cheeses to fill the time and mask her nervousness, and looking at her watch - oh, maybe 50 times - it was time. The leopard print thong, that offending scrap of cloth that had caused her to be here now, was already drenched.

Sherry slipped off the barstool and made her way to the elevator. The bell captain stood at his podium, watching her.

He has probably seen so many women, going upstairs to meet men - hookers and mistresses and girlfriends. Hell, he has probably seen me, before. Do you remember me, baby? The hot, long-legged blonde with the eager look in her eyes and the spring in her step? Uh, huh. Yeah, me. But I’m no whore and I’m not his mistress or his girlfriend. I am his property. And I have been bad. Oooh, I’ve been so very bad! And now it is time to be punished, for my disobedience.

Sherry stood outside the blank, impassive door of suite 875. She was five minutes early, but she couldn’t stand waiting any longer. It was time. She knocked on the door.

The unlatched door swung open at her knock. There was no answer from within the room.

Cautiously, Sherry pushed the door back and peered inside. His overnight bag was on the luggage stand and his things were strewn about the room. But he wasn’t here. Or was he?

Sherry tiptoed into the room, uncertain whether she should call out to announce herself or not. She closed the door behind her, after removing the tape he had placed on the latch to leave it open for her, and making certain that the door latched shut.

The lamps were all turned off, leaving the room shrouded in shadows, lit only by the waning sunlight reflected off the neighboring building.

Sherry could taste his presence. His scent and his clothes strewn about made her want him all the more. It had been too long. Too long since she had been instructed, and disciplined, and made to obey him. And much, much too long since he had stripped her of her last shreds of inhibitions and decency and turned her into the wet puddle of feminine debauchery he always seemed to find within her.

Then Sherry saw the shoes on the floor. A pair of 5-inch, slut-red Manolo Blahnik pumps positioned in the center of the room, directly in front of the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over Michigan Avenue. The shoes were placed two feet apart, centered in the middle of the large, expansive window.

His intent was obvious. Sherry kicked off her white sandals and left them next to the bed. Her toes sank into the lush pile carpet as she walked to the window. She lowered her feet into the shoes, one at a time, not moving them an inch. It took her a moment to steady herself, and establish her balance in the impossibly tall-heeled shoes.

“Hello, Sherry. You’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you?”

Sherry started to turn around to face him.

“”Stop!” Do not move, Sherry. Stand as you are!”

“Yes, Sir.” Sherry stiffened at his words, and faced outwards, focusing on the taxicabs crawling along in the early evening traffic below her, to avoid the temptation to look at his reflection in the window.

“Why are you here, Sherry?”

“I’m here because you summoned me, Sir. And… and because I disobeyed you…. and I am here for my punishment.”

“That’s right. You are here to be punished. For being a disobedient, willful and disrespectful little girl. Are you ready to be disciplined, Sherry?”

“Yes, Sir.” Sherry’s voice was as small as a mouse’s. She closed her eyes as a small shudder traversed her body.

“Yes, I see that you are ready, girl. Your body betrays you as much as your voice does. You have no secrets, Sherry. You are an open book to me. I know everything about you. You will never be able to lie to me, slut. You are a shameless little tease, who needs a firm, strong hand to keep you in line, aren’t you, Sherry?”

Sherry’s ass cheeks involuntarily clenched together at his damning, yet completely accurate, assessment of her. He was right, and the thought of his firm, strong hand touching her body made her weak and powerless to resist.

“Oh, god, yes! I am. I am a shameless little slut. Please, Sir, teach me to be a good little girl, the girl you want me to be.”

Suddenly, he was standing right behind her, so close she could feel his breath on her bare shoulders. Sherry was afraid to open her eyes, afraid to see the dark look on his face reflected on the window in front of her.

“Remove your skirt, Sherry. I want to see these panties. These nasty, awful, shameful panties you have worn today, in defiance of my will.”

Sherry fumbled at the zipper that ran down the back of the short, black skirt, from waist to hem; sliding it down inelegantly in her haste to comply. A quick tug sent to fluttering to the floor. She could feel the goosebumps rise on her now-exposed ass.

“Well now. So this is what you wore today?”

After lunch I sat there in my office going over my options. As much as I loved the way it had felt to be ordered around by this beautiful girl, I had to somehow regain control of my life. I decided that I was going to talk with Hillary first thing in the morning and tell her that we couldn’t work together anymore. I was going to have to get another secretary. If she threatened to make trouble for me with what I’d done I’d just point out to her that nobody would believe the word of a nineteen year-old temp over mine.

If she was still willing to keep up our other perverse relationship, I would gladly meet her whenever and wherever she wanted outside of work. As much as I enjoyed it, maybe I would even pay her.

I knew things had gone too far. For my own sanity’s sake I had to do put a stop to my new relationship with Hillary. I sat there trying to build up my confidence to put my foot down, and when I finally did I went out into the other office and she wasn’t even there. She’d left early without even telling me!

It angered me that she thought her hold over me was so great that she could just come and go as she pleased. She had come in after ten and left before three! The next morning was going to be a rude awakening for her, I thought to myself.

* * * * * * * * * *

The morning didn’t go exactly as I’d planned. I called Hillary into my office when she came in. I didn’t have to tell her to close the door behind her. She was wearing white nylons and a cute little blue dress that was a touch too racy for the office, showing off her curves a little too flamboyantly. All the confidence I’d built up in my ‘fire Hillary’ plan crumbled as she walked confidently over to my desk. God was she hot, so hot.

“Good morning boss. Now get out of my chair. You can kneel there.” She told me, pointing to a spot on the floor.

There was no way I was going to take that from this upstart girl, right? In my own office? No way. Those were the thoughts that silently echoed in my head as I stood up and moved out of her way. Hillary smiled broadly as she sat down in my big leather chair and crossed her legs.

“You’ve seen me topless, now it’s your turn. If you want to be my toy you’re going to have to show me the merchandise Janeen.” She told me, leaning back comfortably in my chair then.

Where was my strength? Why was it so damn hard to resist her? I had to though, I couldn’t let things go any farther.

“Hillary–I, I can’t do this.”

“Yes, yes you can. First, because you know you want to do what I say. And second, because if you do I’m going to make your queer little dreams come true–I’m going to let you touch my ass. But you aren’t going to touch anything if you don’t remember the rules. Now, what do you call me in private?” She demanded.

Visions of my fingertips sinking into the soft curves of her bottom filled my thoughts. The battle within me was short, and the weak part of me conquered the strong part decisively.

“Mistress.” I breathed.

She smiled a smile that would have made the Cheshire cat jealous. My palms were clammy and I felt weak in the knees.

“Good girl. Now take off that shirt.”

My fingers moved to unbutton my blouse as if on their own. When my shirt opened, exposing my bra, Hillary laughed out loud.

“Is that a padded bra? Pull it down and let me see your little titties.” She laughed.

Humiliated by her words my face flushed. I just nodded my head as I did what she wanted and pulled my Wonderbra down. For my frame, at my height, my breasts were just the right size at 32A. But I liked the little bit of additional curviness the padded bra gave me so I wore it.

“God, you look like a little boy or something. Look at you! Ha ha aha. Now put your little mosquito bumps away before you make me laugh myself silly. The padded bra is a waste of time anyway, nobody’s going to mistake you for a woman. So from now on, no more padded bras.” She told me.

I’d always thought I looked pretty good. I’d always been fit and trim. But the way Hillary talked about my body humiliated me to my core. Looking at her ultra-feminine body, so curvy and perfect, just made me feel even more ashamed of myself. I couldn’t even meet her superior gaze, I just kept my head bowed as I said the nasty words that made me feel *so* good.

“Yes mistress.”

“And who do you think you’re fooling with the heels? No more heels either, mighty-mouse.”

“Yes mistress.”

“Now I guess it’s time for your reward. I know this is going to be the highlight of your pathetic little life. I am going to let you touch this.” She told me, turning and lifting her dress to expose her pantyhose covered bottom to my eyes.

“Yes mistress!” I exclaimed, mesmerized by the gorgeous sight.

The incredible sight of the nylon-encased curves of her buttocks drew me to her like a moth to a flame. I began to rise and move towards her, when she looked down at me with sudden anger on her face.

“What are you doing?” Hillary asked me angrily.

“Mistress?” I said in confusion.

“Did you really think I’d let your filthy lesbian hands touch my ass? Show some respect! I don’t want to feel any part of you other than your lips touching me, do you understand? Now get back down on your knees and *kiss* *my* *ass*.” She ordered cruelly, and my pussy spasmed below me at her dominant tirade.

“Yes mistress.” I mumbled humbly as I fell back to my knees.

Hillary turned completely away from me, still holding her dress up over her beautiful rump. She looked back at me over her shoulder as I carefully approached her bottom and pressed my lips to the soft curve of her right buttock. Oh how I wanted to bury my face in her bottom and feel its soft glory. How I longed to kiss all over her hot young body. But the electric sensation of my lips actually touching this teenage goddess’s ass ended all too soon as she pulled away from me almost immediately.

“You stupid girl, look what you’ve done!” Hillary cried at me, staring down at her bottom.

I looked where she was staring and saw that I’d left a perfect lipstick kiss mark right there on her buttock. On the white pantyhose the mark was glaringly visible.

“I’m sorry mistress.” I muttered.

“That’s another thing. No more make-up. And no more skirts or dresses while you’re at it. I want you to look like the filthy little girl-boy you are. Now before I let you get back to work, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Mistress?”

“Where are your manners slut? Aren’t you going to thank me for letting you kiss my ass?”

“Thank you, mistress.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When I returned from lunch that day after my failed attempt to fire her, there was a strange woman in my office. She was quite pretty, young, slender and attractive.

“Hello.” I said to the woman uncertainly.

“This is Karen. She’s Mr. Franken’s secretary.” Hillary informed me.

Franken was one of the company’s many vice-presidents. I had no idea why his secretary was in my outer office.

“Karen is a friend of mine.” Hillary explained.

“That’s nice. Janeen White. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, extending my hand.

The woman shook my hand and then she looked me slowly up and down. I had a sinking feeling that only got worse when she spoke.

“Alright Hill, let’s see her do it.” She said, looking away from me and back at Hillary who was rising from her desk.

I looked at Hillary then, and I’m sure the terror I felt must have been obvious.

“Relax, Karen is an old friend. In fact, it was Karen who got me my first temp position downstairs. Besides, she’s one of your people.”

“My people?”

“You know, she’s ummm . . . not into guys if you know what I mean.”

“Hill!” The other woman exclaimed.

“Oh be quiet both of you. Karen and I have a little bet that we’d like you to help us settle. Let’s all go in your office where it’s a little more private.” Hillary said.

Once we were all inside my office and the door was closed safely behind us I felt at least a tiny bit safer.

“I was telling Karen how I’d figured out you were a submissive little lezzy, and she didn’t believe me. She thought I was making it all up, even after I showed her *this*.” Hillary said, lifting her dress to expose the mark I’d left earlier when I kissed her there.

“I told Karen you’d do it again any time I wanted. I bet her that I could make you do it in front of her. I bet her that if I couldn’t, I’d go down on her, and if I could she’d go down on me. I think she only took the bet because she wants to lose anyway.” Hillary bragged, giving the other girl a wicked grin.

“You’re awful.” Karen said, but she didn’t deny it.

“Now it’s time for you to win me some lesbian head.” Hillary ordered, and then her hands were on my shoulders, pushing me down.

I sank silently to my knees, in shock once more. I felt so helpless and it shamed me, shamed me that I couldn’t resist this beautiful teenage goddess–not even in front of other people. When Hillary turned around and lifted her dress, the white encased expense of her luscious ass filled my view. I didn’t need any instructions. I leaned forward and kissed her there with my eyes closed to avoid the sight of both of them staring down at me. My crotch was on fire, a fire that only burned hotter when she pushed me away, laughing at my pathetic act of supplication.

“Oh my god. You really weren’t making this shit up. Damn!”

“It’s a gift. I’ve always been able to just feel it when I’m around someone who just needs a little control from a beautiful woman.”

“I can’t believe it. Your boss is your *bitch*. Wow!”

“You know Karen, I think she’s not the only lesbian in the room who needs a guiding hand. Are you sure you aren’t a little jealous of her?”

“Hill!”

“Don’t ‘Hill!’ me. You want me too. And you’re about to have me. You lost, now pay up.” Hillary demanded.

“*Here*? Are you crazy? I can’t believe I made that crazy bet. I have to get back to my desk. And what about . . .” Her words trailed off and she looked over at me.

“Her? Don’t worry about her. She’ll do whatever I say. Won’t you Janeen?”

I just nodded.

“Say it.” She said sternly.

I knew what she wanted from me, but I couldn’t. Not in front of another woman. There was no way I was going to sink that low. And then I made the mistake of looking into Hillary’s beautiful glaring eyes and my resistance melted like butter.

“Yes mistress.” I said, and the other woman laughed.

“My god, you really do have her trained.” Karen laughed.

“How long do you have?” Hillary ignored Karen’s comment.

“Franken won’t be out of the meeting for another hour at least. But I need to be there for the phone.”

“Well then, you’d better just do a good job then, shouldn’t you? The better you are the faster you’ll be back at your desk.” Hillary laughed and then she kicked off her shoes and pulled down her pantyhose!

“Alright. But I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Karen replied, and I watched in stunned silence.

Hillary pulled down her panties and set them aside before sitting down in my chair and rolling it a few feet back from my desk. From where I was standing I couldn’t see her bottom half but just the knowledge that she was naked from the waist down drove me nuts. Karen moved around the desk and slowly sank down in front of Hillary, and I was totally in shock. Hillary looked over at me then, and her face contorted.

“What do you think you are doing? Do you think I’m going to just let you stand there and watch? Get out!” She told me.

“But mistress . . . this is my office . . . where will I go?”

“Go sit at my desk.” She ordered.

The girl’s brunette head went lower and lower until I could only see the top of it over my desk. Hillary gave a little sigh as the girl’s head started to rhythmically move up and down!

“But I can’t sit there . . .” I began.

“Yes you can, you stupid little monkey. Just shut up and get out there! And don’t listen at the door either, I want you sitting at my desk.” She ordered, cutting through my objection.

“Yes mistress.” I heard the little voice that was mine say.

“You’d better watch out Karen. Once you’ve tasted pussy this good you’ll be begging to be just like her.” I heard Hillary brag as I closed the door and shut off my view of the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

I felt so stupid sitting at her little workstation like I was *her* secretary. And even worse, I didn’t have to listen by the door to hear her. After a few minutes I began to catch the softly muffled sound of her moans.

I sat there and just fumed. As awful as being humiliated in front of another woman had been, that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst thing was sitting there listening to that other woman getting her off and feeling so jealous that my stomach burned with acid. *I* wanted to be the one on my knees in that office worshiping Hillary. It was me that had done all the humiliating things that she asked, and yet this other woman got what I wanted.

It went on and on, for nearly twenty minutes. I heard the muffled cries grow more and more insistent, and then finally there was silence. A few minutes later the door to my office opened and Karen and Hillary emerged. I looked at Karen and never would have been able to tell what she’d been doing in there. She must have fixed her hair and make-up afterwards, she looked completely composed as she hurried to the door. Karen gave me a last curious look and then she actually winked at me before she exited the office, leaving me alone with Hillary again.

“Now *that* is how you relieve stress.” Hillary said with a sigh.

Where I couldn’t see any difference in Karen, it was totally obvious on Hillary. Her face looked flushed and pink, and she was still breathing a little heavily.

“I left you a little present. Go on, take it while I’m in a good mood.” She told me, gesturing to my office with a lazy wave.

She settled down at her desk after I stood up, and she leaned back in her chair with an exaggerated looseness evident in her posture in her. She smiled at me as I scurried back to my office to find my ‘gift’.

I looked at my desk and didn’t see anything as I walked up. My nose picked up the smell of sex almost immediately though, the smell of Hillary’s joyous twenty minutes of passion. When I got around behind my desk I saw it and knew immediately what she expected of me. On the front part of the seat of my expensive leather chair was a small streak of shiny wetness.

Hating myself for being weak, for being so hopeless to resist her feminine mastery of my soul, I sank to my knees and began lapping up Hillary’s juices. The taste of *her* on my tongue drove me insane. The humiliating submission of what I was doing, combined with the incredibly erotic taste and smell of my dream girl combined to drive me wild. I licked and sucked every bit of her gift off the chair, and I have to admit that I loved every second of it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Once more Hillary took the rest of the day off after having exerted her erotic hold over me. I suffered the extra work gladly, my brain afire with thoughts of the perverse glory of what she’d done to Karen and me. I couldn’t believe she had an orgasm right there in my office–while I was sitting outside! It was so hot, so insane, it just drove me wild.

It wasn’t until I finally dragged myself off my knees and tried to compose myself enough to work that the shame really set in though. What I’d done was so perverse, so kinky, I couldn’t believe how quickly Hillary had reduce me to debasing myself like that. And now she wasn’t the only person at the company that knew my secret. What if Karen told someone what Hillary had made me do? I’d kissed Hillary’s ass in front of her–what on earth had I been thinking? What if Hillary told someone else? If anything happening I’d see my career flushed down the toilet, and for what? For the chance to do whatever amused a beautiful teenaged girl. I must be crazy, but I couldn’t resist the pull I felt to submit to her.

* * * * * * * * * *

As much as I was worried about what she’d do next, when nothing much happened the next day I was a little bit disappointed. Seeing Hillary all day made my heart beat madly in my chest, but she just did her work like nothing had ever happened. The closest thing I had to another experience with her was when she came into my office in the morning to remind me I had an eleven o’clock meeting.

“Don’t forget you have a meeting with the HR director at eleven.” She told me.

Just being alone in the room with her made my blood boil with submissive lesbian lust.

“Yes mistress.” I responded immediately.

Hillary just smiled at me, obviously amused, and then she was gone.

That little moment was the closest thing to anything unusual that happened all day.

* * * * * * * * * *

The weekend, and then two more days passed like that, and it was driving me nuts. I sat there at my desk every day wondering why she didn’t just walk in there and dominate me. Didn’t she know she had me so in lust for her beautiful body that I would do anything? Over time I actually started to grow angry at her. What was she doing to me? She’d given me the hottest experiences of my life, two days in a row, and now it was as if nothing had ever happened.

I know it doesn’t make any sense. I was afraid of giving in to her, of the effect it could have on my job, and especially of the way it made me feel. But I also *needed* it.

I called her into my office as soon as she came in. She stepped inside, and then turned to regard me with eyebrows raised.

“Hillary, is something wrong?” I asked her.

“What do you mean?” She asked me coolly.

I wasn’t sure how to steer a conversation into this particular area at all.

“Have I done something to anger you mistress?” I tried.

“Oh, I see. My little *worthless* . . . ” She began, emphasizing the words forcefully as she stepped closer and closer to me. “. . . *useless* . . . *idiotic* . . . *ugly* . . . *lesbian* boss feels the need to be put in her place.” She said, and when she finished she stood right next to me, towering above me as she glared down into my wilting face.

“Yes mistress.”

“Let’s get some business out of the way first Janeen.” She said, and then she dropped the sheet of paper she was carrying onto my desk.

“This is my timesheet. It was due yesterday, but I forgot to fill it out. You have to sign it.” She told me.

I looked at it, and it was blank.

“You haven’t listed your hours Hillary . . . mistress.” I corrected myself.

“No, I haven’t. Because I don’t feel like filling out the form at all. You’re going to. And you’ve been working me very hard, haven’t you Janeen? I think ten hours a day will do alright. You can turn it in when you’re done filling it out and signing it.” She ordered me.

Ten hours? She’d worked seven on her longest day, and less than four on several!

“Yes mistress.”

“I’ve decided to give you a very special gift tomorrow. A gift you certainly don’t deserve, but one that you’ll *love*. As a result I’m going to have to take a little time off today to get it ready.”

Which probably meant she was going to take the whole day off.

“Yes mistress.”

“Are you excited about the idea of getting a special gift from me, Janeen?”

“Yes mistress.”

“You know, we need a better name for you. Janeen is too grown-up for someone as pathetic as you. Did you ever have a nickname when you were growing up?”

“Neenee. When I was small people called me Neenee, mistress.” I admitted to her.

“Neenee . . . hmmm. That will do just fine. Everyone thinks you’re this grown-up powerful lawyer, but I know the truth about you Neenee. I know that you’re just a pathetic, worthless little lesbian slut. And I’m right, aren’t I, Neenee?”

“Yes mistress.”

Tags: Fetish, Story