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Downfall: 2

Downfall: 2

Cath falls deeper

The rest of the day passed off uneventfully enough; uneventful if you think that spending the day walking round with no panties on, and having to do as your PA tells you, is uneventful. I brought her an afternoon tea and she took it in my office, sitting in my chair. She suggested I would be “more comfortable” sitting in her office “doing the filing.” I did just that.

I usually stayed late in the office. Part of the excitement of my game with Lyn on-line was the fact that any humiliation she inflicted on me was in my office. It got both of us off; now there was a third added to the number, my PA, Marie. Having caught me that morning with my hand in my panties, she rather had me at a disadvantage. It didn’t help, from my point of view, that she seemed to have formed an alliance with Lyn.

There was the familiar “ping” as Lyn sent me a message.

“Hey, doll, how’s it going with you and Marie? Guess you’re not feeling so superior now?”

“No, Mistress,” I typed, “quite the opposite.”

“Is that her? Lyn?” Again, Marie had sneaked into the office while I was engrossed. “Let me answer her.”

With that, she pushed me out of the way and began typing.

I sat there like a spare part. I knew I was the object of their conversation, but apart from knowing nothing positive from my point of view would come out of it, I could do nothing but wait; a bystander to my own fate in my office.

“Right, slut, we’ve agreed that I am in charge of you, subject only to Lyn’s veto. So, first thing is that I will be joining you for your little chats. Second is that you are going to do as I tell you, get that?” She smiled.

“Yes, Miss.” What else could I say?

“Right, get that blouse off and get those funbags out you tart.”

I blushed. It was a turn on to be spoken to in such terms by my 25-year-old PA. I unbuttoned my blouse, revealing my black bra and 36C breasts. She looked at me, licking her lips.

“Lose the bra, slut.”

I unhooked it, leaving my breasts hanging free.

“Yum, always wondered what your tits looked like. Never thought I’d see them, or feel them.”

With that, she stepped forward and grabbed my breasts, kneading them, teasing my nipples. As she did that, she slipped a hand up my skirt and groped my pussy. I moaned.

“Look at you, you tart, being mauled and groped in your own office, not quite such a stuck up bitch now, with my hands on your tit and between your legs, on your cheap pink panties.”

“No, no, Miss.” I whimpered.

“Right, on your fucking knees and between my legs, now!”

She sat on my desk. I sank to my knees.

From that vantage point, I could see she had shed the panties she had stolen from me. She had a landing strip, and her puss was glistening.

I pushed my head under her skirt. The darkness engulfed me. It made it all the more delicious. My tongue darted straight to her slit, sliding down, then up, parting her lips and ending by flicking her engorged clit. The bitch had clearly been aroused by the way she was now able to treat me. I pushed my face further, licking her clit upwards, then sucking it back, tugging it, flicking it with my tongue. I could hear her moan.

The scent overwhelmed me, as did the thought that here I was, in my own office, on my knees, servicing my PA as though I was her personal pussy girl. Goodness, at that thought the cheap pink panties I had from her, started to get soaked. I so wanted to touch myself, but thought that would not be a good idea.

I concentrated on her wet cunt. My tongue slid into her entrance, and as I tongue fucked her, I used my fingers to rub her clit. I then changed methods, with my fingers curling up into her, touching that spot, as my mouth resumed its work on her clit. She had an unusually thick clit, so it was almost like sucking a small cock; not that I had done that, but I could imagine.

“Fuck, fuck, you do that so well you fucking tart, yes, yes, do me you cunt!” She moaned, swearing as she got closer to climax

Then, with no warning, she gripped my head through her skirt and came. She was a squirter. My face was coated. I drank all I could, lapping her juices. She shuddered and moaned as I withdrew my fingers.

Suddenly it was light. She hitched her skirt to reveal me in all my shame, head buried in her cunt, face coated in her girl goo, flushed and red. She looked down at me.

“Gawd, you really are a cunt licker, aren’t you. No one has ever made me come that fast. Mind you, I’ve never had a posh bitch, and my boss, to use before. Get up you cunt. You are going to drive me home, no more buses for me.

So, I drove her home, miles out of my way. She kept stroking my thigh as I drove, and insisted that I raise my skirt so that she could see my stocking tops and my cheap pink panties.

She kissed me and said she’d see me in the morning.

As I drove home, I had a sense of foreboding. I was also soaked between my thighs. But she had told me I could not cum. I spent a frustrating evening wanting to defy her. But there was an excitement in being denied.

What, I wondered, would the morrow bring?


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