| Author: | Jocy Gayheart | ISBN: | 9788892554511 |
| Publisher: | Jocy Gayheart | Publication: | February 15, 2016 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Jocy Gayheart |
| ISBN: | 9788892554511 |
| Publisher: | Jocy Gayheart |
| Publication: | February 15, 2016 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
A story about horniness, obedience, and the secret ties between women.
“Good,” I said. “So where were we?”
She didn't answer right away. “I'm in the bathroom now,” she whispered finally.
“And...” I asked expectantly.
“A-and… and I…,” she stuttered, struggling for the courage to talk to me. Finally, she whispered: “I am very wet, Miss.”
“How do you know?” I asked, starting to enjoy this little game.
“I… I had reached into my panties, just now,” she answered, trying to sound confident, but at the same time as inconspicuous as possible. I could only presume she wasn't all alone in that bathroom. Maybe she was at work?
“And you're still wearing them?” I asked.
She swallowed, afraid she would say something wrong. “Y-yes,” she admitted finally.
I gave Sherri, who still stood at the ready by the side of my desk, a sign to come closer, while I continued my play with the strange woman on the phone. My submissive, masochistic assistant stepped up without hesitation, still bearing the welts and bruises from our previous encounter almost with pride. I pointed down between my legs, and she immediately understood, dropped to her knees and came crawling underneath my desk.
“Then I want you to piss in them,” I said into the phone. “Let's see how wet you can really get.”
A story about horniness, obedience, and the secret ties between women.
“Good,” I said. “So where were we?”
She didn't answer right away. “I'm in the bathroom now,” she whispered finally.
“And...” I asked expectantly.
“A-and… and I…,” she stuttered, struggling for the courage to talk to me. Finally, she whispered: “I am very wet, Miss.”
“How do you know?” I asked, starting to enjoy this little game.
“I… I had reached into my panties, just now,” she answered, trying to sound confident, but at the same time as inconspicuous as possible. I could only presume she wasn't all alone in that bathroom. Maybe she was at work?
“And you're still wearing them?” I asked.
She swallowed, afraid she would say something wrong. “Y-yes,” she admitted finally.
I gave Sherri, who still stood at the ready by the side of my desk, a sign to come closer, while I continued my play with the strange woman on the phone. My submissive, masochistic assistant stepped up without hesitation, still bearing the welts and bruises from our previous encounter almost with pride. I pointed down between my legs, and she immediately understood, dropped to her knees and came crawling underneath my desk.
“Then I want you to piss in them,” I said into the phone. “Let's see how wet you can really get.”
