1 comments/ 27072 views/ 20 favorites Office Whore Ch. 01 By: faery92nymph It's a regular, humdrum, late Thursday afternoon at the office. I'm going over accounts John asked me to finish and eyeing the clock at the same time. Only one more hour to go. John is my boss, the guy whose office is approximately five feet from my cubicle. Tall, handsome, and built like a greek god. And yet, he comes out so rarely I see him once or twice a day at most. Although I actually wish he would notice me, maybe something more than a "Good morning, Lana." That would be nice. Shit. I notice Tiffany glaring at me in her usual 'you're not doing any work' glare. I need to get back to my work. There's only about forty more minutes and I can get out of here, go home, cozy up on my couch and watch Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. Hah. For a twenty-five year old, my hobbies are incredibly lame, and my sex life consists of whatever random drunk I can persuade home on Saturday nights. Pathetic. I'm just about finished with the write-up I was working on when John opens his door. Sticking his head out, he says, "Lana, can you come in here for a minute?" At first I pay no attention, because of course, he can't be talking to me. I've never been called in, it's always Tiffany or Mark going in and out of his office. Then he repeats. "Lana?" Oh crap. That's me. "Yes?" "Can you come in here, for a minute?" "Oh, uh, yes, of course." He nods, and closes his door. I finish the sentence I was typing, save the document, and get up. I straighten my skirt, brushing all the crumbs off of it. I wonder if my lipstick is smeared. Oh why, of all days, did I decide to eat lunch at my desk today? I don't think I have time to run to the bathroom and check myself. I get up, and despite being already invited in, knock on the door. "Come in," he says, from the inside. I go inside. It's a really nice office. There's the basic stuff, like his desk, and his two computers, the pictures of his wife and kids. What makes it really nice though is the wall behind him is all glass, with an incredible view of the city. It's almost breathtaking. I'd love working here too if I had a view like that. "It's kinda something, isn't it?" John smiles, as he catches me admiring the view. I nod. "Come here," he says. He gets up from his desk and walks up to the glass. I go to join him. He smells really nice, like cucumber cool aftershave. John's easily the most handsome guy who works here, tousled curly blonde hair and perfect, straight white teeth. He reminds me of that actor...what's his name...Simon Baker. "You see that over there?" John points in the distance. It's some suburban area, beyond the business district. "Yeah?" I say. "That's my house." "Oh, wow." "Yeah. When I bring the kids here I show them and I say, 'I can see you from here, so don't you misbehave!'" He laughs, a rich laugh, like a Hollywood star. Oh god, I think I'm swooning. Get a hold of yourself, Lana! Then it's as if he realizes where we are, and pulls back to his professional self. He waves his hand over to a chair across the desk. "Take a seat?" I do as he says. He sits back down too. He folds his hands together and clears his throat. My heart begins racing and I'm nervous all of a sudden. What is this about? Am I in trouble? Oh god, is this for browsing erotic stories on the internet that one time? Can he actually see everything we're looking at on the computer? I'm kind of scared now, but I try to play it cool. I cross my legs and place my hands on top. I wish I had a mirror. I move my wavy golden-brown hair, letting it fall behind my back. "Would you like something to drink?" he says, and I shake my head. "Alright, then. I'll begin." Oh, this sounds serious. Am I really in trouble? "Lana. You've been here...how long now? 8 months?" "9 months," I correct him. I hope it's okay that I'm correcting him? "9 months. Forgive me. You've been a great asset to this company." Oh god. Is he going to fire me?! "And I feel you perform your tasks swiftly and efficiently..." Oh crap, this is it. I'll have to beg him not to fire me now. Excuses, excuses, I need to come up with excuses. My dog's dying? My grandmother's sick? "A-are you firing me?" I blurt out. I couldn't contain myself. I look down at my hands and they're almost shaking. John looks confused, then he smiles. "Dear god, no! No! Of course not!" He laughs, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite, actually." "The opposite?" "Yes, I believe some kind of...promotion is in order here. Don't you think?" "I...I don't know?" Oh wow, a promotion?! So I'm not in trouble after all? "Well you've been with us long enough, and I've been observing you, maybe you've noticed and maybe you haven't. But I have, and I've come to the conclusion that you're reliable and trustworthy to move onto the next level." He gets up, moving round the desk to come closer to me. He's standing behind me now, but I'm still looking ahead, at the view. He puts his hand on my shoulder. "I can trust you, Lana, can't I?" he says, and I feel him moving his hand a bit lower. My heart races, but not out of fear this time. I manage a nod. "Great," he says, still moving his hand down and into my shirt. I'm tingling all over. It's the middle of May and it's fairly warm but I feel cold chills all down my spine. "I'm glad we agree on this," he says, and his hand is now reaching inside my bra, cupping my breast. His soft, clean hands. My heart is palpitating. He's saying something else now but I've stopped listening to what he's saying. My nipples are now fully erect, the left one hardening in his hand. He gently squeezes it between his fingers and I start to feel my pussy throbbing. I'm starting to get wet down there, I can feel it. I'm breathing hard. Then he pulls his hand out of my shirt, and moves back to the window. I look up at him, finally, confused. But *SO* turned on. He turns back around, facing me. There's a devilish grin on his face. He enjoys seeing me like this, all flustered. I can tell. "Well?" he says, still grinning. "Do you accept?" Accept what? I nod, without even having heard what it was he asked of me. I don't care, I'll accept anything if it means he'll do this again. If he'll touch me again. "Excellent," he says. He pulls a string and blinds cover the huge glass window. It's fairly dim now, only faint sun rays peering into the room. He sits down in his rolling chair and leans back. I watch him, eagerly anticipating his next move. I don't know what is about to happen, but I don't mind it, not any of it. The anticipation only drives me more insane. Oh, I can feel my wetness again. I'm going to masturbate to the thought of this for weeks on end... John is beckoning me over to him, curling up his finger. "Come here," he says. I get up, scrunching my legs together. I walk over to where he's sitting. "On your knees," he says, and I realize where this is headed. I get on my knees. John smiles, and licks his lips. "I've been waiting for this for a long time," he says. "Me too," I say. Have I? Could this be the reason I've stuck to working here so long? "Well then," he says, still smiling, "get to work, my lovely little Lana." I need no further instruction. Undoing his black leather belt, I unzip his trousers. In reality, all I want to do is put my hand down my own pants. My pussy is aching. But my boss is more important, of course. I feel his hard-on even before I've pulled off his underwear. It's big and bulging. My mouth is watering. I decide I'm going to be extra good on the off-chance that he's evaluating my performance. Does he audition all his co-workers this way? I pull down his underwear and unleash his already erect cock. It's huge, probably 8 or 9 inches. My eyes go wide. I start with the tip, licking it just a little bit to get the flavour. John cocks his head back and moans. "Yess..." he whispers. I take the head in my mouth, and then I lick all the way from his balls, up the shaft, to the tip. I check to see if he's enjoying it and his eyes are closed, his face an expression of bliss. I make swirling motions on the tip of his cock and I hear him whimper again. God, my pussy is so wet by now, I can feel my panties dripping. Then I take him inside me, all the way. I love deep throating, it's my specialty actually. I can tell he's enjoying it because he presses on the back of my head, ever so gently, pushing me to go even further. I don't have a problem holding my breath or even choking, so I can stay like this for a long time. But I don't stay that way for long because I feel the hot cum spurting in the back of my throat. I pull back, opening my mouth and letting him finish on my tongue. I know guys like that. I swallow. He breathes a sigh of relief, and I can tell I've done a good job. "You're a great little girl, Lana," he says, and I smile and lick my lips. I feel a bit of cum escaping my lips. John wipes it off with his thumb, letting me lick it off. "Did you like that?" I ask gently. "No," he says. "I loved it." I laugh. He looks at the time. Work is over. "I think it's time for you to go home," he says, giving me that devilish grin again and a little wink. I get up off my knees and straighten my skirt. I'm about to walk out of his office when he calls. "Lana?" he says. "Yes?" "See you tomorrow." I smile, not wanting to leave his office. I wipe my mouth one last time and walk out, back to reality. It feels like everyone's eyes are on me. Oh my god, do they know? Can they guess what just happened? Okay, maybe not everyone's staring at me. Maybe it's just Tiffany. Am I imagining things or is she glaring at me like she's jealous? I get back to my desk, completely dazed, not even sure of what it was I was working on. I shut my computer down and just gather my things. I walk off without even saying goodbye to anyone, stopping by in the bathroom to check myself out. All good. No cum stains in my hair. I still can't process what actually happened. But at least I know what I'll be masturbating to tonight... Office Whore Ch. 02 I wear my best lingerie to work the next morning, on the off-chance that yesterday's events repeat themselves. Might as well be dressed for the occasion. When it comes to John, who flies his family to St. Tropez (or somewhere equally luxurious, can't remember now), regular nightwear just won't do. So I'm wearing this lacy black Agent Provocateur number. Simply wearing it makes me feel horny. On second thought, this was probably a horrible idea. I'm somewhat sleep deprived, staying up late last night bringing myself to orgasms, replaying the scene in John's office over and over again, adding on extra scenes of what happened after. But although I'm somewhat red-eyed, I can still feel the buzz of excitement, that feeling of anticipation you get before a big event. I walk to the water cooler to get a drink. I might be turning a little paranoid, but I feel like everyone's eyes are following me to the cooler. Like they know what I did last night. What a dirty, dirty little slut you are, Lana, they're probably thinking. Oh, god. I should probably stop this because I can already feel myself getting a little damp. I drink my water and try to think about the most boring thing possible, like the accounts I have to work on (which, to be honest, is what I should be thinking about). I return to my desk and spend the next hour or so with my head down, hard at work. I'm finally getting into my work stride when I hear a voice. "John wants to see you." I look up, and it's Tiffany, glaring at me as usual. What is it with this girl? Why does she hate me so much? I'm focusing on her frown and how menacing she looks, but I suddenly process what she actually said. "He wants to see me?" I ask. "What did I just say?" she repeats, even more menacingly. I take that as a yes, and hop to my feet. I think I'm going to start calling Tiffany the 'Dragon Lady' because she scares me so much. I pace the few feet from my door to John's and knock. A few seconds, and I hear his voice. "Enter." I open the door, taking a deep breath, steadying myself as I enter. Does he want me for business...or for "business"? John's sitting at his desk. The blinds are already closed, and the room is dim. I briefly catch John licking his lower lip, or I might have imagined that. I'm not too sure. "Hello, Lana," he says, in that rich baritone voice. "How are you today?" "Great, thanks," I smile, walking towards his desk. "Nuh-uh," says John, looking stern and wagging his finger. "Did I tell you to walk over here?" "S—sorry," I whimper, and retreat back. I'm so confused. "Lana," says John. "Would you like to continue what we started yesterday?" He has that look on his face again. THAT look. My heart rate's accelerating again. I nod yes. "Excellent," he says, running his fingers through his hair. "That means you'll do as I tell you to. Is that understood?" I nod. My pussy is tingling already. I'm so ready for this. "Do you have any questions?" he asks, finally. I do. Well, I probably have a hundred, starting from Why me?, to a range of other things, but I don't ask. I just want to do whatever it is he wants me to do. So instead, I say "No." "Great," he says, taking a deep breath, and closing his eyes. I'm almost trembling with anticipation, but I try to keep cool on the outside. "Please take your top off, leaving only your bra, and tell me when you're done" he says, his eyes still closed. "Alright," I almost whisper. I quickly slide off my jacket and let it fall to the floor. Then I unbutton my blouse. John still has his eyes closed, so I try not to keep him waiting. After that's off, I'm standing there in my pencil skirt, heels and my Agent Provocateur bra. It's black and lace, but sheer so you can see through it. My nipples are hard and their outline is clearly visible. "Done," I say, and John opens his eyes. In the dark, I can just barely see his eyes widening at the sight before him. But he tries to play it off. "Now, take your shoes off," he says with a smirk. I can almost feel the bulge developing in his trousers. I take off my heels and stand on the carpeted floor, about two inches shorter. "Now get on your hands and knees, and crawl to me. Slowly." I do as he asks, getting down on my hands and knees, never once breaking eye contact. If this was any other man, any of my ex-boyfriends, this would feel out of place and awkward. But doing this with John I feel powerful, sexy. Right where I'm supposed to be. Christ, I'm so horny now, I must be dripping wet. I want to check so badly. But I can't, I must follow orders. As I'm crawling, John gets out of his chair and walks around his desk. He leans on it, running his hand over his mouth. Now I know he's turned on because I can see his bulge. I direct my gaze at it. As I do, I can almost see it getting bigger. When I reach him I stop, and lean back, my ass resting comfortably on my stockinged feet. I look at him expectantly. He's slowly unzipping his trousers... "Now I want you to say, 'How can I be of service, Mr. Donner?'" I look up at him and a giggle escapes my mouth. But he looks stern. "How can I service you today, Mr. Donner?" I ask, changing his line up a little bit. He likes this. "You can start here," he says, taking his cock out from his trousers, letting it dangle in front of me. I take this as a sign and lean forward, taking it in my hand and then placing it in my mouth. "Ohh," John quietly moans, his mouth making an O-shape. I can tell the way I swirl my tongue around his cock is driving him crazy because his breathing gets ragged. I gently lick my way around, milking the tip with extra tenderness. I move my hand up and down the base as well, to compliment my tongue movements. I could stroke him with both hands, one fist on top of the other, but I'm afraid it'll bring him over the edge. Then suddenly, as if I've hit a nerve or something, he pushes me away. "I'm sorry," he says hurriedly, and motions for me to get up. Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt him? But I'm mistaken. He's undoing his belt and pulling his trousers down to his knees. "I need—to have you—right now," he pants, and as I stand up facing him, grabs my hips. "Oh!" I can only exclaim as he pulls my pencil skirt to the floor. I step out of it and toss it away. Things are moving so fast I can barely comprehend. He spins me around and bends me over his desk. He pulls my panties down. I can feel how wet they are as he pulls the fabric away from my pussy. He helps me step out of them, and then spreads my legs apart. I'm almost panting now from the excitement. I'm bent over the table, my arms resting squarely on it, my legs spread open. "What a perfect pussy you have, Lana," says John, and I can feel his breath on it. I'm so glad I shaved it last night, it's now bare and gleaming and perfect. Then I feel his hot tongue inside, parting my lips as it delves deep. "Ohhh," I let out a moan, letting him know how much I'm enjoying it. He darts his tongue around frantically, as if trying to explore my inner depths, circling around my clit. "You're so fucking wet," he exclaims, and I can only fluster a "Yes" in response. Then I feel him standing up behind me, his hard cock pressing lightly into my bum. Using his hand he navigates into my opening, and without another word, plunges his cock into my pussy. I moan in short gasps as I feel his cock thrusting in and out of me. He's pumping me so hard that the entire table is shaking, and I can't help but talk out loud. "Oooh, ohh yes, that's it..." I wonder briefly if anyone outside can hear us. Part of me doesn't want them to, but the other part, the horny little bitch, wants everyone to hear. He thrusts a couple more times, keeping his hands firmly on my ass. I can hear his panting too, as he smacks me — hard — on the ass. "Yes," I whine. "You like that, Lana? You dirty little—" *SMACK*, he slaps me again. I nod yes. It's so hot how he's fucking me and spanking me at the same time. "You like that, huh?" *SMACK* "My little—" *SMACK* "office—" *SMACK* "slut!" *SMACK* "Ooh, yes, John, yes, don't stop!" I moan uncontrollably . I've turned into a wild animal. Suddenly, he pulls his cock out. The table stops shaking. Then,I feel my head being pulled back. John has a bunch of my hair in his fist, and his face is close to my ear. "Don't ever call me John," he whispers, "not when we're doing this. It's Mr. Donner. Or...Master...got it?" "Okay," I nod, "...Master." I love the sound of that. Master. Saying it aloud, I get it. It's so much more sexual than calling him by name. "Good," he says, and releases my hair. He grabs me by my hips, turning me around and pushing me up onto the table. "Spread your legs," he says, and I do as told. He pushes his cock inside me, thrusting it, hard. I almost wince but it feels good rather than forceful. From this view, I can see his cock thrusting into me, and he's still wearing his work shirt and tie, which is so sexy. Beads of sweat form on his forehead, from the exertion. "Oh," I moan, "yes, fuck me Master." "I can't hear you," he says. "Fuck me Master!" I scream louder, pretty sure that all of the office has heard by now. But I'm in such bliss I don't even care. John is fucking me so hard, his hands digging into my hips as he slams his cock into my pussy. My breasts have come out of my bra and are bouncing up and down. I move my hand down to my clit, fingering it, but only to feel a sharp slap on my hand. "Did I give you permission to do that?" he says. "Sorry, Master," I say, moving my hand away. All this time he is thrusting into me I can feel my pussy throbbing, exploding with pleasure as his hardness slides in and out. Just as I think that he's going to come inside me, he pulls out. He gets me on my knees again, and ejaculates on my face, moaning as he does so. When he's drained his cock completely, he pulls his trousers back up, buckling his belt. I watch him sit back down at his desk and turn on his computer, ignoring me. I stand up, naked except for stockings and my bra. My own cum dripping down my legs and his cum on my face. I look at John, observing. He doesn't look like a man who just fucked his work colleague's brains out. In fact, he looks like he's been hard at work all this time. That makes me horny all over again. He catches me looking, flashes a little smile at me, nods, and says, "Thank you Lana, you're dismissed." As if he had just called me over to ask my opinion on something, and nothing more. I gather my clothes off the floor and get dressed. Lastly, I take out a tissue from my jacket pocket to wipe off the cum on my face, but John says "Nuh-uh. Don't do that." I look at him quizzically. "Don't wipe it off," he says. "I want the whole office to see what a great slut you've been." Is he joking? He must be joking, of course. "But I can't possibly—" "Oh you will," says my boss. "If you'd like to continue this, of course." I nod quickly. "Yes, I do." I think it over a bit. Surely, I could just rush to the bathroom before anyone sees? "There's a good girl," says John, not even looking up from his work. I take this as my cue to leave. Opening the door, I expect everyone's eyes to be on me. Oh, god, who am I kidding, they must've heard the whole thing! I can't bear to face anyone right now. Especially not Tiffany the Dragon Lady. But nobody's looking at me when I come out. They're all busy working and pay no attention to me. I quickly slide back into my cubicle and resume working, hoping no one notices the girl with the cumstains on her face and hair. That day at work ended up being the least productive work day of my life. I took no less than three leisurely bathroom breaks to replay what just happened, furiously masturbating each time, and nearly getting caught once. I don't think I would have minded, either. Office Whore Ch. 03 The week that followed was an incredibly slow one. On Monday, I kept expecting John to call me into his office. I even wore another on of my sexy lace getups, a bright red bra and panties set. But I didn't see him. The rest of the week followed in a similar fashion. I'd get to work bright and early, eager to start the day, trembling with anticipation at what might happen. But, apart from the regular office work, nothing would happen. I was starting to think that I had imagined it all in a fever dream. The only thing that proved to me that it was real was the bonus check I got in the mail on Friday after work. It was generous, and unlike any I'd received before. I decided to spend it on some more sexy lingerie. The next Monday, John called me into his office, and we fucked. It was the same exercise as last time, only a bit more rushed. He bent me over the desk, pulled my panties down, and fucked me hard. This time he came inside me, not on my face, and I was slightly relieved at not having to show my co-workers a face full of cum again. The rest of the week continued like this, I'd get to work, and no more than 10 minutes would elapse that I was sitting at my desk, and he'd call me over. On Thursday he called me in twice, fucking me in his chair once, and the second time to suck his cock under the desk. I happily obliged on both occasions. It's Friday now and I'm expecting more of the same. I log into my computer and open some worksheets. Sure enough, in about twenty minutes or so, I get an e-mail. 'Need you in my office. Now. Master.' I swallow a lump in my throat. It's go-time. I stand up from my desk and straighten my skirt, which is getting higher and higher every day. Today it just barely covers my bum, but looks great. I flounce across the room to John's office, and open the door without so much as a knock. "Hello, Master," I say in a singsong voice, closing the door, my back turned to him. "Did you miss your little fucktoy--" I turn around, and stop. What is SHE doing here?? It's Tiffany, the Dragon Lady. John is sitting at his desk, an undeniable smirk on his face. I should have noticed actually, as I came in this morning, that Tiffany had been wearing a long trench coat. She's wearing it now. But I must've been too horny and distracted to notice. "I — uh —" I begin, not sure how to continue. Was Tiffany going to watch us? The thought was intimidating. "Lana," says John in his rich honey voice. "I take it you know Tiffany, yes?" I nod, confused. "Tiffany is going to be your Mistress from now on. So, you do as she says, and she does as I say, but both you and Tiffany submit to me. Is that understood?" What? What on earth was he talking about? "Are we doing this together?" I ask, pointing at Tiffany. John and Tiffany exchange glances. Tiffany removes her trench coat, letting it fall to the floor. I gasp. Tiffany is wearing thigh-high black heels, a black PVC minidress, and nothing else. The sleeveless dress ended in a half-cup shelf bra, so her breasts and nipples are resting on it, visible. Her pink nipples are protruding erect, rising and falling with the movements of her chest. Tiffany takes off her hat as well, shaking out long, brown hair that falls nearly to her waist. "Take off your clothes. Leave your bra and panties," she says, moving to a side cabinet. I can't move, I'm so transfixed by her beauty. Yes, she had always seemed somewhat fierce, somewhat...frightening, but now she's just breathtaking. "I said Now." I quickly oblige her request, pulling down my skirt and lifting off my top. From the corner of my eye I see her reaching into a cabinet to retrieve some things. I spot a riding crop, some pink cucumber-shaped thing, and a few other things I can't make out. She briefly inspects my appearance, with a somewhat disapproving glare. "Come closer, whore," she beckons. I slowly walk up to Tiffany. She's leaning against John's desk, with John himself sitting comfortably behind it, one hand resting behind his head and the other down his pants. "Put this on," she says, handing me a black leather collar. I fasten it at a comfortable notch, the leather cold against my skin. Once I finish, she takes a dog leash and hooks it to the metal ring in front. "Now get on all fours, and walk with me." I do as Tiffany orders, getting down on all fours. She makes me walk up the room, my back to John. Then she stops, and I stop. "How do you like your whore, Master?" Tiffany asks John. I turn to look back at John, but Tiffany pushes the riding crop into my cheek, forcing me to gaze ahead. Then I feel Tiffany kneel beside me as she digs her manicured hands into my buttcheeks. She pulls down my panties, exposing my ass to John. "I like that," says John, so I can hear. "Give it a slap for master." *Slap!* I feel Tiffany's hand sharp against my cheek. Then another *Slap!* against my other cheek. I can feel myself getting wet now, imagining my pussy juices begin to glisten. I want to desperately touch myself, but have a feeling I'm not allowed to. Four more *Slaps!*, two on each side, and I can feel my cheeks reddening. It hurts, but not too much. "That's enough, bring her over here," says John, and I can feel how horny he is through his voice. Tiffany leads me back, tugging gently on the leash. As soon as we come back to the desk, she gets me standing on my knees. She unhooks the leash. John and Tiffany exchange glances again, as if they've done this before. "Now, whore..." "Yes?" I ask, timidly. "It's 'Yes, Mistress' to you," chides Tiffany, my mistress. "Yes, Mistress?" "Do you want to suck Master's cock, or do you wanna be fucked?" My pussy tingles at the thought of being fucked by John. I'm desperate. "I wanna be fucked, Mistress." *Slap!* I feel a sharp slap across my face. "Wrong answer, whore!" says Tiffany, scowling. I must looked scared probably, because I think I catch Tiffany winking at me. "You tend to Master's desires first." "Sorry." *Slap!* Tiffany's breasts are shaking with the force of her slaps. My face smarts but my pussy is even more wet now. "Sorry, Mistress," Tiffany whispers to me. "Sorry, Mistress," I repeat, and I can feel hot tears running down my cheek. "It's alright," she says. "You'll learn fast enough." Then I see John come into view, as he unzips his pants. I help him, pulling out his cock, which is fully erect. "Suck my cock, Lana," says John, relishing the words. "Yes, Master," I say, before taking him into my mouth. He feels hot and moist, as I work up and down his shaft. I want to play with my pussy so badly, I think I can almost feel my juices trickling down my leg. "That's it, whore, suck Master's cock," says Tiffany, lightly slapping my bare ass with the riding crop. I'm bobbing my head back and forth, fervently tending to John's cock as Tiffany encourages me, occasionally slapping me lightly with the crop. It's not long until John cums, and he ejaculates all over my bra, and some into my hair. "Good girl," he moans. As John finishes, he moves round the back of the desk. Tiffany grabs me by the chin. "Get up." "Yes, Mistress." I do as she says. She pulls me out of my panties, walking round to open a shelf under the desk. Retrieving a pair of scissors, she walks up to me. "You won't be needing these anymore," she says, cutting up my panties in two. I'm shocked, and my mouth is gaping open, but I don't say a word. She then slides the scissors under my bra, between my breasts, and cuts it open. "Or this." I'm naked now, nothing except for a collar, my cut-up expensive lingerie lying on the floor. "How do you like your whore?" Tiffany asks John, wheeling me round for a closer inspection. John eyes me up and down, nursing his now soft cock, and nods in approval. "Get on the table," says Tiffany. "On all fours, ass facing me." "Yes, Mistress." I do as my mistress tells me. I'm probably dripping wet by now. John is admiring the view, licking his lips as I climb up on his table. I flash him a confused look, but he returns one that says 'Don't worry, you can trust Tiffany.' "Let's see how wet you are," she says, and slides a finger into my pussy. It offers no resistance, and is immediately swallowed up by the hot wetness. "Your bitch is in heat," she tells John. She inserts two fingers this time, stretching out my tight pussy a little bit. A moan escapes my lips as she works her fingers in and out of me, and once she takes them out, she walks around the table to show me. She stretches her two fingers apart and a thin veil of sticky cum separates them. "See how wet you are for your Master, you little whore." She puts her fingers to my lips knowingly, and I lick them, hungry. I taste salty and sweet. She walks back round behind me, and puts her fingers in my pussy again, playing with my clit. "Now, Master's not quite ready yet, so we'll have to do with this," she says, and I hear a rustling behind me. I look behind and see the pink thing, it's a smooth rounded dildo. "Do you want this, whore?" Tiffany asks. "Yes, Mistress." "Say it like you mean it." "Yes, please Mistress." "Say it like you mean it, or you'll leave now, Whore!" I beg her. "Yes, please, Mistress fuck me! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Please." Tiffany laughs. "That's more like it!" She licks the dildo up and down, and rubs it between her hands for warmth. Then I feel her pushing the tip against my pussy. I try and encourage her. "Oh, yes, Mistress, that's it, fuck me please, I'm so horny." She pushes it in a little further, and then halfway through. Tiffany teases me a few times, pushing it in and out, and then playing up and down my pussy, circling my clit. At last, John breaks the silence. "Fuck her, Tiff." She plunges the dildo into my pussy and I scream in pleasure. She twists and writhes the dildo in and out in such a way that I've never felt before. I can't stop my moaning and groaning, and I don't care if anyone hears. I've never been fucked by a dildo like this before and it feels like heaven. "Yes. Yes, Mistress!" She's driving me over the edge and I'm ready to cum. Suddenly, the feel of the pink plastic is gone, but replaced by a real cock — hot, throbbing, and eight inches. "Oh!" I moan, as I feel John's hands gripping my ass. I didn't even realize he had crept up behind me. He fucks me from behind for a while until I orgasm, and then he, too explodes inside my pussy. "Ahh," John moans. As our movements slow down I notice Tiffany admiring the view, of the two of us fucking. As soon as he's done, John puts his cock away, buckling up his pants. "Good work, Lana, we're done here," he says, dismissing me as usual. I quickly put on my dress and top, without the bra and panties. I watch as Tiffany disposes of them in a wastebasket. And they cost $80, shame. I leave, but Tiffany stays behind. Something told me that, while *I* had finished my business for the day, John and Tiffany still had not...