Chapter 3

My night's sleep was fitful at best. I awoke several times with images of Thandi and of servicing her. God, what was happening to me? I went to the bathroom to get ready, doing my best to hide the dark circles under my eyes and get dressed, complete with my new earrings. I went to work with butterflies in my stomach.

I worked at my desk, and tried to catch up on the work I missed, due to leaving early yesterday. The whole time I worked, I worried about The Call. The Call, that's what I referred to it as now. The Call was the key to my sexual release as well as my subjugation. At first, I was dreading the call, but by 10:30, I wanted The Call. Just so I could get it over with and I could stop worrying about it.

Finally it came. My heart beat faster when I saw her extension flash on the phone.

"Ma'am?" I answered the phone.

"Report to my office, Pussy-girl," Thandi said.

I blushed with humiliation at how I must look rushing to her office like a good little brown-noser. I entered her office, closed and locked the door behind me, and started to disrobe.

"Wait," she said, spinning her finger in the air. "Turn around and let me see what you have on."

I spun around, modeling my outfit for her. It was black turtleneck and a tight black skirt that went just above my knee. It wasn't something I wore to work, but it was the only thing that didn't look completely stupid with the large gold earrings I was forced to wear.

"Very nice," she said. "That's the sort of stuff a professional woman with ambition should wear. Do you understand me?"

It was the sort of stuff a woman who doesn't mind putting out for a promotion would wear and evidentially it was the sort of stuff I would be wearing from now on. "Yes, ma'am," I replied.

She went back to working on the paperwork on her desk. "Good, hurry up, you know what you have to do," she said, without looking up. "I've got a report to give before lunch, but I need to relieve some stress first."

I hate her for cheapening the act. She acted as if it what I was doing for her was nothing more than asking me to fill out a report. She had no idea of the sacrifice and how hard it was to bear this humiliation. But, there was nothing I could do about it, so I stripped, and laid my folded clothes on the chair. When I moved to her side of the desk, she slid her chair back and patted the desktop.

"Hop up and spread your legs. I need to inspect your friend to make sure you haven't tried to sneak one in."

God, I couldn't believe it. That was the last place I wanted to be. There would be no way I could hide my sexual arousal from her, but I did as she asked, cringing as she smirked at my flushed breasts and hardened nipples.

She inspected the lock and then rubbed her hand along my welted thighs. "I bet you're creaming yourself right now, aren't you Pussy-girl?"

I blushed, nodded my head, all the while avoiding her gaze.

"Look at me girl. Look at me and answer my question."

I looked into her piercing eyes. "N-no ma'am, I'm not c-c-creaming myself," I managed to force out, lying to her face.

She scooted her chair back, grabbed my hair and pulled me forcefully off the desktop. "Stop fucking around and get to work you lying slut."

I withered under her harsh gaze. Kneeling down, I reached underneath her skirt and removed her panties. Her sex was wet and aroused - the odor of her musk strong. I pushed back against the flesh on her stomach, causing her pinkish purple clit to stand at attention. It looked so powerful - so free, while my poor little pearl was locked tightly away within its steel prison.

I lightly brushed my fingertip against her nubbin, before delving between her nether lips, coating my finger with her nectar before I began to manipulate it in earnest.

"Look at me," Thandi commanded, tugging on my earring.

I met her smugly superior stare.

"Every time you lie, you lose a point. Do you get the point?" She must have read my confused look. "In other words Pussy-girl, you just lost a point. You now owe me ten good orgasms before I let you out of your snug little belt."

"No please," I begged almost crying. I couldn't go back to the beginning again.

"Get those delicate fingers back to work girl," she said, then continued as I resumed her masturbation. "I don't tolerate liars. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. Now, tell me the truth. Are you creaming yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am," I admitted. I plunged a finger into her pussy and she gasped.

"Is your husband suspicious? Has he mentioned anything about your gifts?"

"He's not suspicious yet." I couldn't believe it myself. My world had been turned upside down and all he noticed were the earrings. "The only thing he's noticed is the earrings."

Her lip quivered. "Did he like them?" she asked breathlessly, grabbing hold of each of the large hoops in my ears.

"yes-" I gasped. God I needed to cum.

"Good. Deep inside it means he approves of your new position." She bit down on her lower lip, and thrust her pelvis. "Did he eat my other present?" she asked.

My own hips humped in response. He ate it. He ate her spit. I fed it to him last night. "Yes," I breathed.

"He belongs to me too. Has he wanted sex?"

"... yes."

"I love your earrings," she said, shifting her grip on my earrings, using them to pull my face just inches from her sex. I was forced to watch up close as my fingers probed and caressed her silken wet silken folds. "Now, tell me what happened."

I told her everything that happened last night. She came close to cumming twice, but she made me stop until it passed and then begin again. She said she wanted to hear the entire story first.

"What went through your mind when he touched your ass?"

"I was panicked. Scared he would find the belt. More scared than I had ever been in my life."

"How did it feel giving him a blowjob when you couldn't get any pleasure?" she asked.

"Jealous and horny. I enjoyed it until he came and then he was tired, while I was frustrated and couldn't sleep.

"While you were bobbing for prick," she said. "I bet you were thinking about me, weren't you?"

God, I wanted-no needed to lie. "Yes," I breathed.

"You're not turning queer on me are you?"

"No." My faced flushed. "I'm a married woman."

"I love the feel of your hot breath on my pussy. Tell me the rest and keep breathing hard," she said, as she placed her heels on her desk.

I wanted to scream with my frustration. The sight of her there, so utterly without inhibition, while I knelt between her legs submissively giving her pleasure overwhelmed me. Yes, she was a bitch and I hated her, but at the same time I lusted for her. I wanted to rip the belt off and throw her to the floor. I wanted her to do for me, what she made me do for her.

But instead, I fucked her pussy with my fingers, while making sure to breathe on her pussy. Telling her about what I did in the bathroom. Even telling her where I put the lipstick tube.

"You are such a slut my pussy girl - an ass whore. But, don't worry, deep down, all white women are ass whores." Her hips humped, the seat squeaked. I worried that someone would hear. "Oh God, faster. Do it faster."

My fingers sped to a blur.

"Here it cums. Oh fuck - here it cums." She announced, pressing my face against her crotch while she bucked uncontrollably.

After she came down from her orgasm, she released my head and lifted my head back up.

"Last question pussy girl," she said, grinning. "While I held you between my thighs, did you want to taste me? Even just a little bit?"

I blushed down to my marrow. Could she read my mind? I needed desperately to lie to hold on to any shred of my dignity... but I needed to cum even more. "Yes," I admitted, tears welling in my eyes.

"But you didn't." She was grinning again. "Why not?"

"Because I hate you," I spat, glaring up at her from between her thighs.

"Oh, God," she gasped, her hands going to her breasts and squeezing them forcefully. She propped her legs back up on her desk. "Quickly, do it again," she commanded.

I masturbated her again, more forcefully this time. Going so far as to use three fingers when I fucked her.

"You wanted to taste me. You're turning queer. My little queer pussy girl," she gasped. "Tell me queer, how does it feel to be under the boss's desk earning your living?"

"I hate it. I hate you." I took out my frustrations on her pussy.

"But you respect me," she said, taking off the necklace that contained the key to my chastity. "Because I have power over you and with this I own your pussy."

She dangled the key in front of my face taunting me. "Kiss it. Show me how much you want it."

I kissed the shiny gold key. I even parted my lips, while she dangled it inside and fucked it in and out of my mouth.

"Make me cum. Make me cum again my pretty white pussy girl. That's it. Oh-oh-oh-here it cums. Ugh-ugh- fuck-fuck-fuck-you make me cum so hard." Her legs lifted from the desk, and spread as far apart as they could due to the arms of her chair. So far apart her ass lifted up from her seat. Her stomach trembled and her hips bucked. My hands were coated with her sticky juices.

After she was spent, she handed me a box of tissues. I blotted her pussy dry and slipped her panties back in place without having to be asked.

She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes, causing my heart to pound. "That was a good one," she said, before frowning. "And your face is a mess. We can't have you leave looking like that. It's not professional"

She cleaned my face off with tissues, occasionally, stopping to dab the tissues in her mouth before resuming her cleaning. Afterwards, she opened her purse and made my face. When she was done, she held the mirror to my face. I was stunned. I was beautiful - I was sexy. I was much too sexy for the office. I was also naked, kneeling between the legs of my boss - a woman I hated. I wasn't going to complain and ask her to do it again.

"Am I finished now?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, sliding her chair back. "You can get dressed now. Besides, I have some other work for you to do."

I turned my back to her and dressed. She started handing me various papers and instructions.

She said, "I'm sending you a few spreadsheets. I want you to make some pretty charts out of them and set them up with my comments in a Powerpoint presentation. Do you think you can handle it?"

I burned in anger. I ordered the servers that housed all our company's web business. I could damn well do what she asked -- in my sleep. "Yes, ma'am," I answered.

"How do the welts on your thighs feel slut?"

I pressed my legs together in response. "Sore," I replied honestly.

"Your breasts will match if you fuck my presentation up."

"Yes, ma'am." I took the papers and hurried to the door. I turned hesitantly. There was something I needed to ask her.

"Yes?" she said, not looking up from her computer.

I rubbed my thighs together and contracted the muscles in my pussy. "Did that... count?"

"What a slut," she mumbled. "Don't worry, you only have nine more to go."

I hurried back to my desk, not daring to look at anyone, lest they see the changes in my appearance. I immediately began work on what she asked me for. To my horror, I discovered it was an analysis of doing our internet marketing in house as opposed to contracting it out. This was my job - mine and my co- workers.

I was tempted to mess it up on purpose, but I thought about the tiny leather belt and my tender breasts. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she would live up to her promise. I didn't botch the job. I gave it one hundred percent.

While I was working, I brought my hand to my mouth and chewed on a knuckle like I usually do. I tasted her. I immediately went and washed my hands, but it was too late. The damage had been done. I had tasted her. I had tasted a woman. Was I a lesbian now? Was I really turning queer?