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Cath gets caught wet-handed

It had started simply enough. It was perhaps unwise to play in an on-line chat room in the office, but that was part of the excitement. Though a continent and an ocean apart, the fact that she could tell me to take my panties off, or to masturbate, or whatever, was at the heart of it. It was classic stuff. High-powered career woman, from a privileged background, needing some release from all the pressures and tensions that has created. The problem was time.

My PA usually knocked. That morning she didn’t. She came in – to find me with my hand down my panties on the verge of orgasm. There was no way of denying it, nor yet of explaining it away. She looked at me. I blushed.

“What the fuck?” She was slim, with a blonde bob, small breasts and narrow-hipped. She was efficient enough, but uncultured and uneducated. She did her job effectively enough, but that was that. Her London accent was pronounced.

“Marie,” I began to speak.

“Sorry, Cathy, I’m going to have to talk with the Head. This is not acceptable. I’ve noticed the past few weeks there was a scent in this office, and you’ve been doing this for a while. I have to report it.”

She looked grim.

I blushed.

“I’m sure that we could, perhaps, find another way?” I protested.

“Such as?” She said.

“I’m sure if we discussed it?” I began.

“Give me your I-Pad.” She demanded.

I had no choice.

My transatlantic partner was just ordering me to “cum like the slut we both know you are.” Marie texted something back. I sat there, my hand still inside my panties, hardly knowing what to do. She had clearly got a text back, as she then texted again. This went on for at least five minutes, during which I slipped my hand out from where it had been and attempted to adjust my dress.

“Lyn tells me that she makes you do every day and that you are her slut. Is that right?” Marie was smiling.

“Erm, yes,” I blushed, “it’s a game we play.”

“Yeah, well, Lyn says I can play too. So, you dirty bitch, stand up and raise your dress so I can see your panties.”

What to do? I really didn’t want to stand in my office and have my PA see my panties, or, indeed, to obey her orders, but it was those things or she went to the Head. The fact that she was cooperating with my on-line domme, even lent it an air of excitement.

I rose, pushed my chair back, and lifted my blue dress, exposing my blue, silk, French knickers. Marie looked at me.

“I’ve told Lyn you are being a good girl. You are going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you, Cathy?” She was smiling.

Imagining the texting between Marie and Lyn, I attempted to triage the situation by responding as I knew they would want.

“Yes, Miss Marie, do tell Mistress Lyn I am being a very obedient girl.” I blushed, but got wetter. The idea of calling my PA, “Miss,” was delightfully transgressive.

“I did. So, Cathy, lower those posh panties and bend over your desk, ass towards me.” Marie was smiling broadly.

I did as I was told, knowing I had no choice. I bend, pushing my big tits into the desk. Lowering my panties, exposing my bare ass to my PA.

She was texting excitedly.

I felt her hand on my ass. She rubbed it, then squeezed it, before running her finger down my ass crack.

“Does your American Mistress know you have a hairy cunt?” She asked.

“Yes, Miss Marie.” I answered, quickly.

“Ow!” I gasped, as Marie brought the ruler down on my bar ass. I gasped again and again as she did so time and again, giggling as she did so.

“What do you say, Cathy?” She asked.

“Thank you for spanking me, Miss Marie.”

“Good girl. Now take those panties off and give them to me.” She ordered.

I pushed them past my knees, letting them settle around my ankles before removing them. Standing, I faced her and handed her my panties. She took them, smiling.

“I doubt sluts need panties. These are bloody expensive ones. Hey, tell you what …” She lifted her skirt, revealing a pair of pink panties. Quickly removing them, she handed them to me in exchange for mine. Fuck, I thought. There she was in my expensive panties, and now I had to wear her nasty, cheap pink ones – a colour I hated..

“Right, to work my girl. Oh, and by the way, I expect you to bring me coffee mid-morning. Now say bye to Mistress Lynn.”

I texted to Lynn, who seemed to find the whole thing hilarious.

That was how it began. I spend the day in an erotic daze. Knowing my PA was wearing my panties and making me wear hers. Our usual post-lunch consultation took on a new form. Sitting in my chair she told me to kneel. She opened her legs. I could see she had removed my panties.

Kneeling, I applied my tongue to her shaved puss. I licked her clit, sucking it, drawing it out until she moaned, then pressed it in, sucking and licking. Sliding my tongue into her wetness, and my fingers into her cunt, I made her gasp. A good ten minutes of that had her coming like a steam train. She squirted all over my face. As I looked up to her, she smiled.

“Fuck, but you make such a good cunt licker. You ever suck cock?”

“No, Miss,” I answered.

“Well we shall see about that.”

Fuck, I thought, where the hell is this going?


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