She was tall and statuesque, her hair in a bun. I had seen her type before, trying to appear strong and domineering by flexing their Executive muscle.
Management change was nothing new for me. I had watched new department heads come and go with regularity. I didn't fear a new boss like the other employees did ... I knew the company needed me because I was their biggest producer. I made them money ... lots of money. And, as long as I was one of their best sales people, I felt bullet proof, secure in my job.
When Marlene Nelson called me into her office for a cursory introduction, my haughty attitude was apparent. It initially had the desired effect ... it clearly unnerved her.
It didn't take long, however, for her to regain her composure. Leaning back in her chair, I took notice of her physical looks. There was little doubt she was attractive with a voluptuous body under her conservative business suit. She was also relatively young for an Executive, early thirties I guessed. And I sensed she wasn't intimidated by me, not like the last two managers who sat at her desk.
I was, however, equally confident of my stature within the firm. both as a producer and a looker. Nothing conservative about me ... I liked the constant attention from the men and I dressed for it. I was all business though. I never dated anyone I worked with. I was aware I was thought of as a prick teaser ... well deserved I suppose.
"I understand you're the biggest producer in the department, Sandra," she said. "Is it Sandra or Sandi?"
"Sandra," I answered. "I don't like being called Sandi. And yes, I am the biggest producer and have been for the past three years. I make a lot of money for this firm. You should take that into consideration when you read my request for a raise. I don't feel I'm fairly compensated for my performance here."
"I see," she said. "And if you're not compensated as fairly as you think you should be, what is the alternative?"
I didn't understand her question. There wasn't an alternative. She had to give me the raise. That's the way the game was played. The bitch shouldn't be putting me on the spot. In fact, she should be groveling, giving in to my demands. I wondered ... did she really think there was an alternative?
My ego was as big as the raise I was requesting. Without thinking I boldly blurted out: "I guess I would have to consider taking my talents elsewhere."
I'm sorry you feel that way," she said.calmly. "I'm sure you'll be missed around here."
I was stunned. "What ... what do you mean?" I asked nervously. "You ... you mean you're willing to let me go just like that. You can't be serious. I make more money for this company than the rest of this department combined. I also know the head of this division personally and he would never allow you to let me go over a meager raise..."
"I just did, Sandeee," she said sarcastically. "You can finish out the day if you like or you can leave right now. It's up to you."
Suddenly I wasn't so full of myself any more. I made a hundred and fifty thousand a year. Was I being too greedy with my raise request?
She interrupted my thoughts. "Was there anything else?" she asked.
"Uh ... I don't understand," I said, my voice quivering. "I didn't say I was quitting. I like my job here. I have friends here. And Mr Pyle, the division vice president told me that..."
"I don't care what Mr Pyle told you," she quipped. "No one makes demands of me. No one is indispensable."
"Forget my raise request," I said, trying to retreat. "I love my job here. Really, I'm satisfied with my present salary. I'm sorry if I mislead you about my intentions."
She leaned back in her chair and smiled. "Tell you what I'll do, Sandee. I'll think about it over night and let you know tomorrow whether you still have a job here. That's all ... get back to work."
I stumbled to my feet, grimacing from the pain in the pit of my stomach. She was dismissing me like I was a teenage school girl.
"Oh, by the way," she said just as I reached the door. "I rather like the way you dress. You like to flaunt it don't you. Are you the office slut?"
She was adding insult to injury."No ... no I'm not," I muttered.
"Then you must be the office prick teaser," she snickered. "Well, I won't hold that against you in my decision. Now get the fuck out of here and back to work."
Back in my office I tried to compose myself. I was shaking like a leaf ... tears falling on my expensive silk blouse. Then I became mad ... mad at my lack of backbone ... mad at the new bitch boss and her total lack of respect for me.
I picked up the phone and called Kyra, a friend and client in a firm downtown. I'd show that bitch, I thought to myself.
"Kyra, this is Sandra. How are you today?"
"Fine, I'm fine," Kyra answered, her voice sounding strained
"Listen, Kyra. You know how you are always asking me to come to work for you. Well this is your lucky day. I'm ready to take you up on your offer."
The phone line became eerily silent. I didn't understand. "Kyra, are you still there?" I asked. "Did you understand what I said? I'm ready to take you up on your offer."
"I heard you," she said. "I can't help you. I received a call from your new boss this morning. She informed me in no uncertain terms that if any of her employees tried to defect over to us and we hired them she would stop doing business with us. You know your company is our biggest supplier. I can't afford to call her bluff. If she cut us off..."
I couldn't believe it. "She ... she can't do that Kyra," I cried. "Isn't that illegal or something. You can't blackball someone in this day and age. Who the hell does she think she is?"
"I don't know if it's illegal or not," Kyra said. "It certainly is effective though. And I wouldn't bother to call any of the other firms where you have contacts. I think she's put the word out to everyone. From what I understand she apparently doesn't have to answer to Mr Pyle either. He may be your division Vice President but apparently she doesn't have to answer to him. I think she's for real."
I hung up the phone feeling thoroughly dejected. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I was making more than a hundred fifty thousand dollars a year. Now there was a possibility I might not have a job. What the hell would I do. I didn't have any investments or savings. I had spent it as fast as I made it.
I muddled through the remainder of the day, I couldn't concentrate ... It was like my own personal nightmare.
Later that night, while trying to relax in my comfortable, luxurious Condo, I slowly became overwhelmed by the possibility of losing it all. I began crying uncontrollably.
Picking up the phone, I dialed Mr Pyle's number at home. It was hard for me to believe that a man in his position with the company would not have a say in a matter like this. He answered the phone.
"Mr Pyle, this is Sandra. I need to talk to you about something important. I don't know if you are aware of it but..."
"Yes, I'm aware of what happened to you today, Sandra," he said. "Unfortunately there is nothing I can do about it. Your new boss Miss Nelson was sent here by the President of the company to cut cost. I was instructed not to interfere."
"But doesn't my track record mean anything?" I ask tearfully. "My sales surpass everyone. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"The company is appreciative of what you have done but the raises I approved for you in the past are apparently a liability now. I'm sorry ... there is nothing I can do."
I hung up the phone feeling more dejected than ever. I could see my nightmare coming true.
When I arrived at work the following morning there was a note on my desk to report to Miss Nelson's office. I poured myself a cup of coffee, my hands trembling from fear and stress.
Trying to act as casual as possible, I entered her office. "Good morning, Sandee," she said sarcastically. "You look sexy this morning."
I thought it odd she would call me sexy. I wondered if she was one of those lesbians. She wasn't manly though, like those dykes who were always whistling at me on the streets.
"I've thought about your situation and this is what I've decided," she began. "Your money making skills are impressive. But, for me to allow you to stay, I need to add to your responsibilities. Are you willing to take on additional task.?"
"God yes," I said exuberantly.
I didn't care what she wanted me to do. Just knowing I wasn't going to lose that fat paycheck every month was a total relief.
"You might change your mind when I tell you what I need for you to do," she said.
I didn't care. Whatever it was it couldn't be as bad as being broke, unemployed and possibly homeless.
"Okay, here it is. Every Saturday, from eight in the morning until I dismiss you, you'll be my personal maid. You'll come to my apartment and clean it, wash my linens and personal items. You will also be responsible for my dry cleaning. Do you think you can handle that?"
I thought she was joking. I waited for the punch line,,, it never came. She was serious as I was humiliated. My pride told me to walk out, not to succumb to her insane demand. But the fear of going broke, losing my expensive condo I worked so hard to buy was a great motivator. I tried to think of a way out of her selfish demands.
"Every Saturday? I mumbled humbly. "Be your maid? How can you ask me to do this? Maybe I should talk to Mr Wylie first."
"Sure," she said. "By all means, call him. But make sure he knows he's talking to a former employee. Or, you can retain an attorney and sue the company. Shouldn't cost you more than two, maybe three hundred dollars and hour. Knock yourself out, Sandeeee."
"When ... when do I start?" I asked shamefully.
"Well, tomorrow is Saturday. That's as good a time as any. I'll give you a key to let yourself in. Make sure you're quiet. I sleep in on Saturdays."
She handed me a small plastic bag. I stared inside it numbly. To my horror there was a maid's uniform, all neatly pressed and crisp. She actually wanted me to wear a maid's uniform!
"I ... I can't wear this," I said, my voice quivering. "Isn't it enough that you're humiliating me. Wearing this would be so demeaning. I won't..."
"You will wear it," she said sternly. "You're not a guest in my home nor are you a friend. You're the maid and you'll dress appropriately. Do you understand?"
"Yessss," I said, sensing the wrath in her voice.
"Okay, that's settled. Now get your ass back to work. Make us some money today."
And just like that she dismissed me again. I walked back to my office, my pride, my ego in shambles. What would the office staff think of me when they found out. Maybe I could get her to agree not to tell anyone. I made a mental note to ask her in the morning. In the meantime I had to act normal ... even under the abnormal conditions I was now forced to live with.
I showed up at her Condo next morning precisely at eight. I let myself in. Her apartment was beautiful, much larger than mine. Very classy, everything from the furniture to the art on the wall. It all looked expensive. It was a relief to see everything neat as a pin.
I didn't know where to start. Three were a few dishes in the sink. I washed them and put them away.
"I see you're on time," she said, her voice startling me. "I woke up early today. Since I'm up let me show you around."
I followed her down a long hallway. The master bathroom was breath taking, a large oval bed in the center and mirrors everywhere. She pointed to the master bath off to the side.
"There's a hamper in there with my dirty clothes," she said. "Mostly panties. The bathroom need to be cleaned. You can start in there. Oh, and also down at the end of the hall there's a utility room where the washer and dryer are located."
I stood there awash in shame. The reality of what I was doing hit me full force. I hung my head, staring at the floor.
"By the way," she said, "Do you know how to cook? I could use a hearty breakfast this morning."
"Uh ... yes ... yes, I can cook," I said submissively.
"Good. Follow me."
In the kitchen I peered into her fridge, finding eggs and bacon. As I began preparing her breakfast she sat at her dining room table reading the morning newspaper. Her robe hung open, displaying her large breast. It disturbed me that she would expose herself like that. It was equally disturbing I felt compelled to steal glances at them. She dressed so conservative at the office, I found it odd she would displayed herself so openly.
"That uniform fits you like a glove," she said as I served her her meal. "The skirt could have been a little shorter, though."
I couldn't believe she was serious. The black skirt was so short the top of my thigh high stockings were exposed. And the blouse ... so shear my bra was clearly visible. I had to wear a trench coat just to cover myself while coming here!
The apron was a joke ... small and white, barely covering my waist. And she thought the skirt wasn't short enough? Maybe she was a lesbian after all.
While she ate breakfast I returned to the master bath. The small hamper was full, almost entirely made up of panties. The pile was a rainbow of colors, all thongs and bikinis. As I sorted them, I noticed that a number of them were quite soiled ... soiled as in sexually soiled. Apparently her sexual life was quite active.
After stripping her bed, I bundled everything up and went in search of the utility room. Once I had the first load going, she yelled from the kitchen.
"Draw me a bath, Sandra. With lots of bubbles ... okay."
I hurried to her bathroom, turning the water on in the tub. It was absolutely demeaning but I felt trapped.
"Nothing like a hot bubble bath," Marlene said as she slipped up behind me. "I'll bet you'd like to be home soaking in a tub yourself right now wouldn't you."
It was a cruel comment, deliberately trying to make me feel worthless or get a rise out of me. Or both.
She removed her robe, seemingly flaunting her nakedness to me. Embarrassed, I looked away as she climbed into the tub.
I made my way back to the kitchen to clean up the breakfast dishes. I couldn't stop the tears.
"SANDEEE, come in here. Hurry, I need your help."
Back down the hallway I went. She was lounging in the tub, her body hidden by the mass of bubbles.
"Do me a favor and wash my back," she said, acting very coy.
She was pushing me too far. "I'm not washing your back," I said defiantly. "I should never have agreed to this maid thing in the first place. You are purposely being cruel and malicious and I'm not going to take it. I don't understand why you enjoy humiliating me."
"I'd also enjoy firing you Sandra. If that's what you want, so be it. Don't bother showing up at work Monday. I already have someone in mind to replace you."
I quickly tried to re-think my position. My pride was going to get me fired. How was I going to pay my mortgage on my condo. How was I going to make payments on my BMW. She was so matter of fact, never leaving me any wiggle room.
She must have picked up on my hesitation, leaning forward in the tub to expose her back. Shamefully, I reached into the tub, finding the sponge. I hated her for gloating as she leaned forward, giving me access to her back.
After several minutes she fell back in the tub.
"Now do my breasts," she said softly.
It was difficult not to notice how large and firm they were. Her nipples grew as I sponged them.
Suddenly her knees appeared up above the bubbles, spreading wide.
"After you wash my pussy you can finish washing my clothes," she whispered. "Scrub it good. I may get lucky today and I don't want it smelling like a fisherman's wharf."
I choked back the tears as my hand slipped between her legs, sponging her crotch. I scrubbed her hard, trying to hurt her. She moaned, licking her lips suggestively. I was now convinced she was trying to seduce me.
"Oh my, Sandra," she moaned. "You like to play rough don't you. That's alright. I like my pussy nice and pink when I'm out trolling for a date."
I couldn't breathe, gulping for air. She laughed when I ran from the bathroom gasping. I stood out in the hallway trying to pull myself together.
I finally retreated to the utility room, placing her panties and bedding into the dryer. I stayed there, wanting to avoid any more contact with her.
Within the hour I heard the door slam as she left the apartment. I immediately made my way back down the hall to her wet bar and mixed myself a drink. I needed several to numb the pain of my shame.
By the time I slipped off the bar stool to check the dryer, I was clearly drunk. I staggered down the hall, retrieving the clean wash. After putting the panties away and making the bed, I was free to leave. I decided to have one more drink for the road.
I lost track of time. Suddenly there was Marlene coming through the door. Her arms were loaded down with packages from an obvious shopping spree. But she had more than packages. A young blue eyed blonde followed close behind, still wearing a name tag identifying the department store where she worked. Apparently Marlene was bringing the young sales clerk home with her too.
It confirmed my suspicion ... she was a lesbian.
"So, I see you're still here," she said snidely. "And drinking up my booze without permission. I may have to punish you, bitch. You deserve punishment, don't you agree?"
I was so inebriated I didn't care what she did to me. What could she do to demean me any more than she already had.
Turning to the young girl, she said: "This is my maid, Amber. Looks like she's taking advantage of me doesn't it. Sitting down on the job, drinking my booze. What do you think I should do about it?"
"I ... I don't know," the young blonde mumbled.
"Maybe," Marlene said, "since she takes so much pride in being straight, I should make her watch us. You don't mind someone watching us do you Amber?"
"I ... I guess not," Amber said nervously. "What ... what are we going to do? This is like all new to me too. I've never really done anything like this before."
"I know, dear," Marlene said sweetly. "But you've always wanted to be a bitch in training haven't you. Isn't that why you're here?"
"Yes ma'am," Amber whispered submissively.
I felt like I was going to be sick. I decided to leave, stumbling from the bar stool.
"Stay where you're at," Marlene hissed at me. "You're not going anywhere. Do you understand?"
I slipped back onto the stool, reaching for my drink.
"Remove your blouse and skirt," she ordered Amber. "Watch, Sandra. You're going to see a nice tight body. Who knows, maybe it will turn you on. Maybe you will even learn something about yourself."
Through blurry eyes I watch as the young girl stripped. She wasn't wearing a bra. It didn't matter, her breast were small, like a little girl. She looked even younger naked.
"My god, Marlene," I gasped. "She's just a child. Why are you doing this to her?"
She ignored me, moving toward the young girl. She stroked the girl's crotch through her white bikini panties. The teen looked at me and moaned.
"You have to stop this," I demanded. "This is so wrong."
I stumbled from the bar stool again.
"Get the hell out of here," Marlene ordered. "I'll deal with you Monday."
I grabbed my trench coat and staggered out of the apartment. Somehow I drove home without incident. I was sick by the time I reached the inside of my condo. I threw my guts up before passing out on the sofa. What a mess my life was in.
I spent Sunday trying to understand why Marlene openly displayed her sick lesbian sexuality to me. It would surely have a negative effect on her career if it was exposed. Did she think I was so frightened of her I wouldn't reveal to the company her sick relationships with other women? I couldn't make sense of it.
Arriving at work Monday morning I was only mildly concerned by the way Marlene seemed to be ignoring me. she was a hands on supervisor, spending lots of time with her employees. It was like she was avoiding me purposely.
By Friday I was very concerned. She had managed to ignore me the entire week. I was becoming paranoid.
Then, just before leaving work for the weekend, she stuck her head in my office and told me she didn't need my maid services on Saturday. My paranoia sky rocketed. I worried she was going back on her word ... maybe preparing to fire me. I could only surmise she was disappointed in my first and only day as her maid.
I realized my attitude had been poor. But what did she expect? She surely couldn't have thought I'd be grateful for the demeaning way she subjected me to her sexual advances. I knew it was going to be an stressful, sleepless weekend.
Saturday morning I decided to at least make an attempt to take my mind off of my problems. I went shopping, It was no mystery I would end up at the department store where Marlene had picked up the young blonde girl. I located her in the lingerie department. She recognized me immediately.
"I know you," she said. "You're Miss Nelson's maid aren't you. Remember me? I met you last Saturday."
"Yes, I remember you," I said. "How could I forget. Listen, I'm glad I run into you. I've been really curious. You didn't know Miss Nelson before she came shopping here did you?"
"No, no I didn't," she admitted.
"And when she asked you to come home with her you agreed. Right?"
"Not at first. But she was so stern, so demanding with me. I have to admit, I've always liked women like that. I was kinda afraid, though."
"Why ... why would you go home with a complete stranger if you were scared? I don't understand."
"I'm kinda in the closet ... you know my parents and everything. But she knew ... and she was so strong and domineering. I guess I just couldn't say no. Like I said, I like women like that. I would think you would understand. Isn't that why you are her maid?"
I didn't answer her.
"She's a pretty nasty woman," the young girl admitted. "She made me do some things..."
I could see it in her young face. The mere fact we were talking about this was turning her on.
"That's why I don't understand why she hasn't called me all week. She promised she would call. You're her maid. Do you know why she hasn't called me?"
"No, I don't know," I said. "But then that doesn't mean anything. I only worked for her as a maid that one day."
As we chatted I couldn't help but remember her standing in Marlene's apartment partially naked. Her slender teenage body was so tight, so perfectly proportioned. I recalled being aroused. I told convinced myself it was the booze.
I cut our conversation short when she asked me to deliver a message to Marlene. I wasn't about to place myself in the middle of their sick lesbian relationship.
The remainder of the weekend I had this dreadful feeling I was going to be fired by Marlene. Maybe I should have tried harder to please her. I was sure she had sensed my dislike for her.
By Monday morning I was so paranoid I walked around the office searching the faces of the other employees to see if they were reacting any different towards me. I was making myself a wreck.
Then, in mid morning, Marlene summoned me to her office. I was shaking like a leaf.
"Listen, Sandee," she said as I entered her office, "I'm entertaining a very close friend tonight at my home. I need you there to cook dinner, serve and clean up afterwards. You can leave here early today. Keep it simple ... salad and a couple of steaks. We'll eat around eight."
For some strange reason I was elated. I felt like I was back in her good graces again. Even though I expected this to be a continuation of my humiliation I felt a sense of relief. I didn't understand the logic of my feelings at all.
After hurrying home to change into my maid uniform, I arrived at her apartment early. I gathered up her dirty panties to wash. Several pair were all crusty in the crotch. I sniffed them ... they smelled of sexual secretion, similar to the odor of my own panties after heavy petting with a man.
Before putting them into the washer I sniffed them again, holding the crotch up against my nose, inhaling deeply. My reaction was disturbing. What I was doing was nasty. I didn't do nasty. When my body shuddered I quickly tossed them in the washer along with her bed linen.
Retuning to the living room, I dusted all the furniture. I was determined to be a good maid this time.
Marlene and her guest arrived around seven. I could tell they had been drinking.
"Make us some drinks," she ordered me. "Martinis ... dry. And by the way, I've been meaning to tell you ... lose the bra. Why would you want to hide those beautiful tits? Get rid of it."
I reacted submissively, slinking down the hall to do as I was told. Once the bra was removed, I checked out my image in the mirror. My breast were now clearly displayed through the sheer maid uniform blouse. More humiliation.
Back in the kitchen I began serving them dinner. As they dined I peered at the guest from the kitchen. She was about my age, late twenties or so. She was classically beautiful, certainly not anything like the submissive bimbo from the department store.
After dinner I cleaned up as they moved to the living room to chat. I heard my name mentioned. I eavesdropped.
"So, what's up with this new maid of yours?" I heard the guest ask Marlene. "Is she ... you know."
"Not yet," Marlene said. "But it's just a matter of time."
"What makes her so special?" the guest asked.
"Because she's straight ... and she tried to defy me. You know how I feel about being defied."
Marlene turned on the sofa, looking directly at me. "Come in here Sandee. I want my friend to see those big tits of yours."
I was stunned by her lack of tact, especially in
front of her guest. I crossed my arms over my breast and moved slowly to the living room. Standing in front of them, I stared at the floor.
"Put your arms down to your side," she ordered.
I slowly lowered my arms, displaying my breast shamefully. My nipples began to harden, the small bulges straining against the tight sheer blouse. My shame was going completely off of the charts. Tears flowed down my cheeks.
"Touchy bitch isn't she," the guest murmured. "You've hurt her feelings, Marlene. I like that. Let's give her a real reason to cry."
"Come here, bitch," Marlene said. "Stand closer."
I hesitated. Marlene's cold, steely blue eyes intimidated me I lowered my head again and moved closer to them. I flinched when she reached out and grasped my nipples, squeezing and twisting them. I moaned in pain, continuing to cry like a baby.
"Hurt her," the guest spat out. "Make her like it. Humiliate the bitch."
Through tear dimmed eyes I watched as the guest reached out, touching my thigh. I jerked my leg away from her.
"Get the hell out of here," Marlene ordered disgust in her voice. "Go home."
I backed away, grabbing my trench coat and running from the apartment. Out in the hallway, I paced nervously, waiting for the elevator. It seemed to take forever.
Arriving home, I sat in the dark in my living room trying to collect myself. I cried myself to sleep.
In the morning I awoke, still lying on the couch. The shame of the previous night came flooding back to me. I didn't think I could continue this charade with Marlene, even if it meant losing my job. I had to draw a line somewhere.
I arrived at work with a new attitude. I thought if I stood up for myself she might gain some respect for me. Her treatment of me had to have limits. I wanted to keep my job but there were certain things I just wasn't willing to do. I had to be strong and let her know that.
An hour after arriving she came to my office, closing the door.
"You embarrassed me last night," she spat out at me. "Don't you ever do that again."
I wasn't prepared for her vehement outburst. Once again I was intimidated. I quickly apologized.
"That's better," she cooed.
She moved around my desk, stopping directly behind me. Pushing her large breast against my neck, she gently massaged my shoulders. Soon her hands slipped down to by breast, caressing my nipples.
"I see you've stopped wearing a bra, even to work" she whispered in my ear. "That's being a good bitch, Sandra. Mmmmmm ... such nice tits. Large and firm, like mine. And look ... your nipples are growing erect. You like being touched don't you."
I tried to fight off the pleasant feeling of her gentle massage. Women touching each other was abnormal. I didn't want to feel pleasure. It was immoral and sick.
I groaned as she gently pinched my nipples. My body was betraying me.
"Please ... please don't," I pleaded feebly. "I'm not like that. Please stop touching me."
She pulled her hands away. "Still a little touchy I see. By the way ... don't be late this coming Saturday. I'm throwing a little party Saturday night and I'll need you to help in the preparation."
After she left my office I sat there trembling. I had a strong urge to masturbate, to quell the heat between my legs. This wasn't like me. It wasn't like me at all.
I didn't talk to Marlene the remainder of the week. Just knowing she needed me for her upcoming party tempered my paranoia.
Saturday morning I showed up at her apartment early. I washed all of her dirty dishes and cleaned and straightened up the living room.
She was still asleep when I entered her bedroom. Being as quiet as possible, I tiptoed to the master bath to collect her dirty clothes. She was partially uncovered, her large natural breast fully exposed. I tried to look away ... I couldn't. They were awesome, like mine.
After collecting a handful of her panties, I tried to quietly slip back through the room. Apparently she heard me.
"Sandra, what are you doing in here? Oh, I see ... you're going to wash my panties. Come here a minute. I want to show you something."
I approached her bed. She reached out, pulling a white pair of her thongs from my hand.
"See how soiled these are," she said, holding the crotch up for me to see. "I cum in them last night ... at least three or four times. They were soaked by the time I got home. Here, smell them ... smell how nasty they are."
She held them out, taunting me. I could only stand there, red faced, allowing the harassment.
"Come on, Sandra," she urged. "Sniff them. Don't disappoint me again. Let's don't start the day with you pissing me off."
That was the last thing I wanted to do ... piss her off. The paranoia over my job came to mind.
I inched my nose towards the panties. The odor was strong, still ripe. I closed my eyes and inhaled.
"Come on, Sandra. You can do better than that. Take a good long whiff. Don't be afraid to like it."
I moved closer, within inches. I inhaled deeply.
"That's more like it." she said. "I'll bet you never thought you'd be sniffing your boss's panties did you. You know, I think you're enjoy it."
Suddenly she forced them between my parted lips. I should have pulled away, not allow her to disgrace me like this. But I was suddenly caught up in the intense passion hanging thick in the room. I let her stuff them into my mouth. The taste was unique, sour but not bitter.
"Suck on them, bitch. Taste me. Taste your boss."
She let go of them. I stood up erect, the panties partially hanging from my lips. In an attempt to please her, I impulsively reached up and pushed the entire crotch into my mouth. The warmth of my saliva softened the crustiness, intensifying the taste. I had finally crossed the line ... the line I vowed never to cross. Maybe I was the slut I pretended not to be.
"That's a good girl," she whispered. "Maybe you'd like to sniff my cunt too."
I shook my head vigorously, backing away from her.
"Okay ... okay" she hissed. "Get out of here and make me my breakfast. And get my paper for me."
I hurried from the bedroom, her panties still in my mouth. I retreated to the utility room, quickly depositing the panties into the washer, I then hustled to the kitchen to start her breakfast.
She sat at the dining room table reading the paper as I served her.
"Do you remember Marge?" she asked. "You know, the friend I was entertaining last Monday night. Well, she'll be here shortly to help with the party arrangements. If I'm in the bathroom, ring her up."
I didn't like her friend, especially after the way she had treated me. She had a cruel streak, making me cry the way she did. And now I was going to have to spend the day with her!
After finishing her coffee, Marlene arose from the table. "Listen," she said, "when Marge gets here she may try to give you a hard time. Don't embarrass me like you did the last time. Indulge her. Who knows, she may let you sniff her panties too."
My brief weakness in the bedroom earlier was now coming back to haunt me.
"I don't like her," I blurted out. "And I certainly don't want to smell her panties."
"Why not, Sandra," she said mockingly. "You seemed to enjoy smelling my panties."
"No ... no I didn't," I murmured. "You ... you made me."
I knew my protest rang hollow. She knew it too. She glared at me. I drooped my head, staring at the floor.
"I'll ... I'll try to be nice to her," I mumbled.
Within minutes after she disappeared down the hall to the bathroom, the doorbell rang. I buzzed the building entrance door open. Wien Marge entered the apartment, I was putting the last of the breakfast dishes away.
"Well, look who's here," she said snidely. "And looking good too."
She approached me, boldly reaching out to cup one of my breast. "That's interesting," she said. "You're not pulling away. Has Marlene finally tamed you? By the way, where is she?"
"She ... she's in the bathroom," I stammered.
She continued caressing my breasts through my blouse. She had absolutely no respect for me. I felt dirty.
"What was your name again?" she asked. "I forgot."
"Sandra, huh. Okay, Sandra. Let's go over to the sofa and get to know each other. Come on girl. Don't be shy."
I followed submissively. "Come here," she ordered. "I want you to sit down on the
floor in front of me."
I was scared. But there was a sense of excitement too. The woman was so domineering. Just like Marlene. For some reason I was beginning to feel comfortable with being submissive. Which was strange since I alway thought of myself as strong willed, like them.
I slipped down to the floor directly in front of her. She spread her legs lewdly. My eyes were drawn to he crotch.
"You are a naughty thing aren't you Sandra. Looking up under my skirt like that. "What do you see, bitch? Do you see something you like?"
"Yellow panties," I whispered. "Pretty yellow panties."
She slumped further down on the sofa, splaying her legs and thighs even further.
Suddenly Marlene appeared behind me.
"She's a sniffer, Marge," she said to her friend. "Dirty panties ... My new bitch likes dirty panties."
"Really!' Marge said, acting surprised. "Well, as it so happens, I'm wearing dirty panties. How about that, Sandra. I have just what you like. Go ahead, bitch. Take a big sniff."
I looked up at Marlene, a pleading look on my face. Her eyes, as usual, were cold and unblinking. She expected me to do as I was told. And I ... I had an overwhelming urge not to displease her.
I tried to act reluctant. I was sickened by my arousal. I was completely humiliated but Marlene had debased me so many times I think I was reacting sexual to it.
I nuzzled my cheeks up against Marge's inner thigh, up above her thigh high stocking top. It was a shameful display of submissiveness, but for some reason it felt surprisingly natural. I breathed deeply. She was right, her panties were dirty ... the odor strong and pungent. I actually became light headed.
She entangled her fingers into my hair, pulling my face closer to her crotch. She was forcing me, like a rape victim. But there was no mistaken the sensation I felt, being used for her sexual pleasure.
Feeling helpless masked some of the guilt, but wanting to please her was a new emotion for me. I nestled my nose up against her crotch, taking the full brunt of her female odor.
She pulled the crotch of her panties from out of her slit, exposing a creamy white substances oozing from slit. I wasn't prepared for it. Nor was I prepared for thinking what a succulent image it was. I tried to pull away but she was holding my head too tight. I continued inhaling deeply, saturating my sense of smell.
"Have a taste," she sneered.
I hesitated. I now knew what she wanted.
"Do it bitch," I heard Marlene snarl at me. "Lick her cunt you fucking slut. Lick it, make her cum. Make her cum in your pussy mouth."
I was shocked by her outburst and harsh filthy language. But even more shocking was my response. My tongue snaked out, touching her slit. And then, with a frightening eager curiosity, I slurped up the creamy substance, swirling it around in my mouth. I felt absolutely sexy and nasty when I swallowed it.
What followed was a nightmare come true. I actually licked her pussy. Me, licking a woman's private parts! And it was exhilarating, making this strong woman moan with pleasure, causing her to lose control of herself and hump my mouth. And all the while, Marlene urging me on, pleased with me. It was so satisfying and important, her being thrilled.
For the next two hours they used me, making me do things so nasty I thought I'd be sick. But I didn't become sick. To the contrary, I became caught up in the perversity of it all. And after my own first orgasm, I didn't care what they did to me or made me do. It just seemed to add to the pleasure. I cum so many times I lost count. My transformation was complete. I was her bitch. The line I thought I would never cross slowly faded away.
I stood in front of the mirror looking at the yellowing splotches covering the front of my sheer blouse. The stains were a result of cum juices dripping from the corners of my mouth. I had succumbed to Marlene and her friend and they made me do things I didn't think I was capable of doing.
Most surprising were my own orgasms. Their intensity seemed to be in direct correlation to the level of shame I was enduring. I nearly passed out from the extreme pleasure.