Becoming a Lesbian Slave

Summary: An older business woman is slowly dommed by a younger bitch.

Thanks to MAB7991 for his editing and story suggestions.

BECOMING A LESBIAN SLAVE

1. A trivial beginning

I couldn’t believe it had come to this…getting outside help. I had run this business for almost twenty years as the owner and main decision maker and we had been successful throughout our run. My small, but amazing staff ran like clockwork and I had not hired anyone new in over five years.

But since the recession hit, sales had plummeted and after many failed attempts of rebuilding my business I was desperate.

I own a bridal shop called White Wedding in downtown New York City and although a small shop in comparison to the massive corporate takeover of today’s society, it had always been quite successful. I believed in creating an experience for my customers so I hired only amazing people and treated them exceptionally well. We sold everything needed for the bride and her party: wedding dresses, bridesmaid dresses, veils, pantyhose and stockings (depending on the bride’s preference), matching shoes, garters and so forth. Many of my customers were referrals from previous satisfied brides or family members. We had opportunities to grow over the years, but I liked the family setting and avoided becoming a big corporate non-feeling identity like so many others had become.

The domino effect that would change my life and my business started like I suppose it always does with a casual conversation and no hint of what was to come.

I was chatting with my hosiery supplier on the phone when I asked, “Who did your restructuring last year?” My exclusive hosiery supplier had their own financial issues and I recalled Ariel telling me they had hired some big shot restructuring guru to assess every aspect of their business.

Ariel replied her tone changing slightly, “Amber Anderson.”

“Was she worth it?” I asked, thinking the name Amber Anderson sounded like a stripper at some sleazy strip-joint written all over it.

“Well, our profits have quadrupled and many celebrities are wearing our products now?” Ariel said.

“She got the celebrities?” I asked.

“She is a very powerful and cunning woman who does not take no for an answer,” Ariel explained.

That seemed like exactly the type of person I needed to turn around the steady decline in my profit margins, which had hit below the breakeven point for the past eight straight quarters, even after I had made various changes to get out of the slow decline. “Is she available?” I asked, seeing the potential to turn this sinking ship around.

“I don’t know, she left here a couple of months ago, but shows up every week or two. She was given ten percent of profits in the company as part of her contract,” Ariel revealed.

“Isn’t that a lot?” I asked, thinking that was a crazy amount.

“Well, I thought so at first, but based on our most recent numbers, I would say it was well worth it. We just had our best quarter in twenty years.”

“Wow,” she seems to be a miracle worker.”

“That she is,” Ariel replied, before adding, “But be warned she will drastically change how your store is run and she will want total control while she works with you.”

“That seems pretty extreme,” I said, hesitantly, having always been the soul decision maker.

“I suppose so, but she gets results,” Ariel said.

“So you would recommend her,” I asked.

“Wholeheartedly,” Ariel said.

“Well, desperate times call for desperate measures,” I joked and after getting the woman’s contact information I hung up the phone.

Did I need a restructuring person? I didn’t think so, but if she was available, it wouldn’t hurt to at least hear what she had to say.

…..

After contacting her, she sent me her references which were the most glowing references I had ever read. This woman had seemingly turned around several other financially troubled businesses in the past five years. But I have never put much stock in paper references and thus called each of her references, which, in a rarity in a still male dominated business world, were all women.

Each woman, they were all women ran business’s I realized, raved about this miracle worker who not only stopped the steady decline in sales, but turned their businesses into such successes that each quarter since Amber’s assistance had bested the quarter before. Although all three ladies praised her lavishly, I thought it odd that each referred to her as Ms. Amber and not Ms. Anderson which would have seemed like the logical way to address her.

Confident that the references checked out and desperate that if I didn’t do something soon I would lose the store I had spent years building, I decided to make the call.

She was on a holiday in Europe, but agreed to fly back a couple of days early to meet with me on Friday.

Content with my decision, even though asking for help was not a trait I was usually comfortable with, I continued on with my day to day responsibilities.

2. The Interview

It wasn’t an auspicious start. This production guru was four hours late, with no phone call. I had given up on her arriving when Sophia, my secretary, came into my office, which she didn’t usually do.

“Your 10 o’clock appointment is here, Cassandra,” Sophia announced her tone hinting a warning. All my employees called me by my first name, I felt it built friendships and trust and an equal playing field between employer and employee.

I looked at my clock, I sighed, it was 2:12.

I was just about to tell Sophia to make her wait when a young, blonde haired, woman, in a checkered mini-skirt, a white blouse with two buttons opened that allowed her ample cleavage to be the center of attention, sauntered into my office unannounced.

She sat down on the chair across from me sitting her briefcase beside the chair and opened with, “So your little store is in trouble.”

I was shocked by her abrupt opening and the fact that she didn’t look to be older than twenty, not to mention referring to my store as little. Her hair in a ponytail made her look like a college freshman and not the elite restructuring guru I was expecting.

She sighed as if reading my mind. “I am twenty-five and my age is irrelevant. What is important is analyzing how you allowed your business to fade into potential oblivion.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, insulted by her implication.

“That is why I am here is it not?” she asked, impatiently.

“Yes…no. You are here to help me rebrand my store after the economic downturn,” I countered, shifting the blame away from me and to the market crash.

“Excuses, excuses,” she responded with a roll of the eyes and a flippant wave of the hand. “The reality is your business is falling apart and I am here to fix it, yes or no?”

“Yes,” I admitted, slightly rattled by being treated so disrespectfully, especially by such a younger woman.

“And you need me to fix it?” the smug young blonde asked, surprising me again by planting her five-inch black heels on my desk, her legs encased in black pantyhose.

I was flabbergasted by the gall of this young woman, but attempted to hide my growing anger. “Yes, I guess,” I answered.

“You guess,” she mocked. “Either you need me or you don’t.”

I hated to admit it, disliking this cocky bitch and her pretentious and condescending attitude, but I was desperate, so I swallowed my pride. “Yes, I need you.”

“Good, and Ariel explained my terms?” she asked, blowing a bubble with the gum she so rudely had been chewing.

Part of me couldn’t believe I was willing to give my store’s fate and reputation over to this bitch, but again my fear of my store going bankrupt overruled my dislike for her. “Somewhat,” I answered, wanting to be able to set my own terms.

“Well listen closely,” she said, her tone implying she was speaking to a child, which pissed me off even more, “because these are non-negotiable.”

“Ok,” I replied, although I was very nervous over what I was saying ok too.

“Good, first I get ten percent of all profits, based on the assumption that your earnings improve under my leadership,” she explained, standing up and walking behind me.

I’d read books on the power of leadership and knew exactly what she was up to…positional power. Yet, hearing the number of ten percent seemed awfully high. I said, looking up from my still seated position and having to crane my neck to make eye contact which I knew was important in what was clearly becoming a pissing match, “Ten percent is a bit steep from my perspective.”

“Take it or leave it,” she responded, her tone implying she really didn’t care one way or another. “But keep in mind I only get paid if I am successful. If I fail and make your profits any worse than you already have, which is practically impossible, I don’t get paid. Therefore your earnings will go up even while paying me my reasonable fee.”

Although I hated her tone, hated her attitude and hated her implications that I was to blame, her explanation was tough to argue. All of a sudden, it was a win-win situation for her and me. If she was successful, my store would increase its profit margin even while paying her, much more than I pay my long-time employees, but would not hurt my bottom line. Alas, if she failed, I was back where I started from and I could enjoy tarnishing her name through my many powerful contacts. “Fair enough,” I agreed, happy with my internal rationale.

“Good, you are smarter than I initially took you for,” Amber said, her hand going to my shoulder.

It lingered there as I tried to understand the purpose of this move and tried not to snap at yet another insult thrown my way.

“Second, I have complete authority to make any changes I feel necessary to save this little store from the bankruptcy abyss it is currently spinning towards,” she revealed, squeezing my tight shoulders.

Was she really saying what I thought she was saying? She was making herself temporary CEO, not that my store was big enough to have a CEO, a store I had created and built for the past nineteen years. Not over my dead body I thought.

As I fumed over this absurd second condition, the younger woman assessed, “You seem tense, maybe you need to get away for a week. I know just the place for you to go and relax while I save your business.”

I stammered, “W-w-what?”

“Sophia get in here right now,” she demanded her tone impatient as if Sophia should have known she was about to be beckoned.

Sophia rushed in concerned that something was wrong, not being accustomed to being called in such a manner.

“Pretty quick, Sophia, you may be worth keeping,” Amber assessed, her version it seemed of flattery.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Sophia responded, being polite like she always was with all guests to the store.

“You are welcome,” Amber replied before asking, “could you please look up the number for Relaxation Sensation.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sophia replied, while giving me a look of what the hell?

I just gave a slight nod that implied just do it, a very subtle facial expression I had used before, Sophia and I having our own facial language after all these years, which we both understood.

“And Sophia,” Amber added, Sophia stopping at the door, “You will refer to me as Ms. Amber, is that understood?”

Sophia again looked my way, but Amber interrupted. “Sophia from now on I am in charge, so you need not look to Cassie.”

“That would be Ms. Williams, or at the very least Cassandra,” I shot back, hating both her pretentious attitude and people’s willingness to shorten my name. If I wanted to be called Cassie I would say so, it is Cassandra.

“Whatever,” she waved me off trivially, not even looking my way as she instructed MY secretary to do her biding. “Get me that number, now!”

Sophia replied, avoiding eye contact with me this time, “Yes, Ms. Amber.”

“Good girl,” she replied, as if my secretary was a dog.

I was furious and had decided that she wasn’t worth it when she turned to me a smile on her face for the first time as she addressed me by my shortened first name. “You see, Cassie, the key to success has three pieces.”

“Oh this I am dying to hear,” I quipped, sarcastically.

“You really are a stubborn mule aren’t you, that should make this way more fun,” she said, her words clearly full of intent I couldn’t fathom.

“Please, speak to me with respect,” I replied, attempting to sound tough, although the power shift lost some in the please translation.

“I am,” she said, seemingly surprised by my accusation.

“It doesn’t feel that way,” I answered.

“Sorry,” she began her tone suddenly sounding sincere. “I can come off as brash, aggressive and well, let’s be honest here among friends, an utter bitch. I was called the ice bitch throughout high school, which I graduated at sixteen and even worse in college which I graduated at twenty, with full honors. The reality is I don’t lose…ever…and if that is perceived as me being a bitch, so be it.”

Suddenly I felt bad. She had been judged solely on the basis she is a very smart woman and extremely attractive. “I see your point. I too had been judged harshly because of my dedication to this store over having a man in my life.” I realized I was getting too personal something I did a good job of usually avoiding.

Her next words shocked me.

“Are you a dyke?” Amber asked, her social filter clearly not on.

“God, no,” I gasped and then joked, “I just don’t need some needy man around…love them and leave them I always say.”

“A good philosophy,” the younger woman replied, our original cold relationship seeming to warm.

Sophia returned and handed Amber a piece of paper.

“Can you get them on the line for me?” Amber asked, her tone though implied annoyance at what she clearly saw as implied when she made the earlier request.

“Sorry, Ms. Amber, I will get them on the line, ASAP,” Sophia replied, her facial expression showing her anxiety of again not being good enough.

“And hurry,” Amber added, even as Sophia was out the door.

“Could you please try treating my employees with more respect,” I requested, still annoyed at her abrupt attitude.

“People work harder when there is a clear line between employee and employer,” Amber explained.

“I run my business like we are all a family,” I explained proudly.

“And therein lies the problem,” Amber countered, as if it was obvious.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Family members who work for family members never work as hard as they would for non-family. It is not on purpose, but family takes advantage of family that is just how families work,” she explained.

“But none of them are actually family,” I explained.

“But you treat them as such,” Amber assessed. “Therefore their productivity will be less than if you treated them with a clear employer-employee relationship.”

“They are all very hard workers,” I argued. “The family piece enhances a sense of community and pride for their work.”

“How many weeks of vacation do your employees get?” she asked.

“Four,” I answered, proud of my generosity.

“Are you kidding me? You are losing weeks of productivity or you are wasting money galore on temps,” she accused, her facial expression like she had just seen a horrific murder live.

“Well, again I believe if you treat your employees right and make them feel like family, give them a sense of ownership, they will work to the best of their ability,” I explained my philosophy.

“How Karl Marx of you,” she sarcastically quipped, just as Sophia’s voice interrupted us on the intercom.

“Ms. Amber, Relaxation Sensation is on line two for you,” Sophia announced.

“Thank you Sophia,” Ms. Amber replied politely, like a normal, person would. Moving to my desk, she asked, again politely, “Do you mind if I use your phone?”

Using my usual courtesy for a guest, I stood up and allowed Amber to sit at my desk while she took the call.

As I stood, Amber plopped into my leather chair, flipped her heels off and put her feet up on my desk. I watched in stunned awe as she took over MY desk as if it was hers. She reached for the phone and said, “Hello, this is Amber Anderson.”

She giggled like a school girl. “I know it has been a while.”

Amber looked at me comfortable in MY chair, at MY desk and in MY office and waved her hand at me as if implying she wanted us to leave.

I stood my ground, flabbergasted at the implication that I was to leave MY own office.

Amber said to the person on the phone she was chatting to like an old lost friend, “Could you give me a minute, Betty?”

Looking up at me, her stocking-clad feet and long legs a bit of a distraction, she said politely, “Could you please give me just a few minutes of privacy?”

Her tone was so polite and unlike her demeanor most of this interview (funny this started as an interview didn’t it?), I suddenly felt obliged to give her the privacy. Without a word, I turned and left the room…left MY office…let someone else use MY desk.

In the reception area, Sophia was back at her desk. I looked down at the store through the glass window…not a customer in sight as my two employees, Camree and Tilley, chatted to each other. As much as I hated the idea of allowing a pragmatic woman like Amber to try to fix my store, I really didn’t have any other choice. Without a major influx of customers, I would be forced to close my business…and my store…White Wedding… would fade into the oblivion like so many other stores and businesses since the market crash…it seemed the big got bigger, the small got crushed. Determined to keep my shop alive, I sighed at the obvious reality that I needed this woman.

Staring at the empty store, Sophia asked, “Is she the one?”

“I don’t know,” I said, still staring at the abyss of my store. “Sadly, I don’t think we have any other options.”

“It’s ok,” Sophia said, her hand on my shoulder, “We will adapt. Remember, you researched her before inviting her. She is the best, even if she is a bit standoffish.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” I smiled, turning to look at my secretary since we first opened. She was easily the sweetest, most compassionate woman I had ever met…as well as loyal.

She hugged me like she did when my father died, and when my fiancée dumped me for a younger version and suddenly everything felt right.

“Over the intercom, Amber’s voice crackled, “Sophia, could you please send in Ms. Williams.”

Rolling her eyes, she went to the machine and replied, “Yes, Ms. Amber.”

Turning to me, she asked, “Why Ms. Amber and not Ms. Anderson?”

“Beats me,” I shrugged. “But watch out, everything she does seems to have a purpose.”

“Agreed,” my chubby secretary nodded, but her facial expression hinted at fear.

I walked back into MY office, determined to regain control of this power play game Amber was playing. She was still in the same place as when I left…at MY desk, legs up and heels off. “Sit down, Cassandra,” she offered, pointing to my guest chair.

I was again fuming, although happy to see she was using my full name, but after having looked at my empty store yet again, in the middle of the day, I squelched that anger, my humility and sat on MY guest chair. The smile that crossed her face, as I sat on the chair she should have been in, was devious and only increased my fury.

“So good news,” she opened with.

“And what would that be?” I asked, desperately trying to contain my sarcasm and anger.

“I got you in,” she announced.

“In where?” I asked, sick of playing games already.

“To Relaxation Sensation, of course,” she replied, before adding, “although you don’t have much time, your flight leaves in four hours.”

“Flight? Where?” I asked, my head spinning at both her pretentious tone as well as the feeling of power slipping through my hands.

“Hawaii,” she said, “a weeklong trip. I even got you a first class flight.”

“I can’t go to Hawaii,” I replied, the suggestion ludicrous.

“You can and you will,” she said, her tone firm, as she stood up and slipped back into her heels.

I stared at her stunned and stammered, “I-I-I can’t….”

She bent down and put her perfectly red manicured finger nail to my lips. “Sssssshhh, Cassie,” she said, again using my shortened name, again attempting to show her power. “The last piece of my non-negotiable contract is that the owner leaves for at least a week, so I am not dealing with him or her as I try to restructure the company.”

“You want me to leave?” I said, bewildered.

“Yes,” she said, pulling me up from the chair, “now go home, pack for the heat of Hawaii and let me do my job.”

“But….” I began but was again interrupted.

“Simple question,” she began, towering over me. “Do you want your store to boom again and not look like a western ghost town?”

“Yes, but….” I was again stopped.

“Then leave it to me. I have taken stores and companies much bigger than yours from the depth of disaster to the top of the market, I can do the same for you, if you let me,” she said, sitting on MY desk directly in front of me, again I was losing the power play as she positioned herself firmly in control.

I was staring at her black stocking-clad legs which were distracting me even though I didn’t remotely find women sexually attractive.

“Earth to Cassie,” she said, her heel now tangling on her toes. “Do you need me or not? I have other business’s who would hire me in a second.”

“Sorry, yes I need you,” I admitted, breaking my daze.

“Good, then do as I tell you,” she said, her heel falling to the floor.

I stared at her toes which were just as perfectly manicured as her fingers. Everything about her was perfect, why would I expect anything less for my store. Before I could regret my decision, I announced, standing up, “You are hired.”

“Can you get me my shoe,” she asked, showing no happiness or surprise by my declaration.

I instinctively grabbed the shoe, even though deep inside I knew this was a test. I handed her the shoe and she pushed me even further. “Could you please put it on for me, Cassie?”

I was already beginning to regret my just declared offer as she continued to attempt to put me in my place. But I ignored the urge to snap, my store more important than my pride, and I grabbed her ankle and was shocked at how soft the nylon was.

As if reading my mind, she explained, “The newest stocking from Hotwear Hosiery, an invention I concocted…sexy, silky smooth and seductive, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” I agreed, my hand without permission from my mind slowly caressing her stocking-clad ankle.

“The shoe Cassie, the shoe,” she said, her tone amused at my obsession with her ankle.

“Sorry, Amber,” I apologized, embarrassed by my actions as I put on her shoe.

“It’s Ms. Amber, Cassie,” she corrected, standing up and again towering over me. She was at least 5’8 in her five inch heels compared to my 5’1 in my comfortable, but not fashionable flats, which only helped to exaggerate the height difference.

I refused to apologize but instead asked, “What now?”

Amber pulled out a contract from her briefcase and ordered, “Just sign the contract.”

I began to read it, knowing never to sign a contract without reading the fine print. She said, “It is all standard except for the non-negotiable items we have already discussed and my ten percent.”

Very unlike me, I signed the document without reading it entirely, something I would regret later.

She took the papers and said, “You should get going or you will miss your flight.”

Dazed by everything, the power I was giving up, my business in the hands of a cold twenty-five year old and the fact that I had to stay away for a week, I was unable to move.

Amber again brought me out of another daze, “Cassie, leave now,” she instructed, with a very clear finality to it.

“Kkkkk,” I agreed, my head in a fog as I walked out of the office, leaving it in the seemingly capable hands of a young woman I had met just over an hour ago.

“You ok, Cassandra,” Sophia asked, seeing my dazed look.

“Fine, fine,” I said, before adding, “Ms. Amber will be in charge for the next week.”

“Where are you going?” Sophia asked shocked by my sudden decision to leave.

“On a much needed vacation,” I answered, just as Amber called out.

“Sophia please come in here this instant.”

“Go,” I said, adding, although I wasn’t sure I believed it myself, “Everything will be all right.”

I headed down the stairs, into the empty store and out the door, everything I worked for now literally in the hands of a stranger.

It was hours later, while on the flight to Hawaii that it occurred to me that she never told me the three pieces of success.

3. Relaxation and Masturbation

My week in Hawaii was the most relaxing of my life…eventually. Located right on the beach of Maui, my luxurious room had a beautiful view of the ocean…the scene was so serene that I felt at peace with life for the first time in years. It didn’t start out that way though. I considered turning around and returning home the whole flight as I replayed the bizarre day in my head over and over…watching the most bizarre rerun ever. I flip-flopped back and forth a million times. Had I really just given my store to a twenty-three year old to run for a week?

Finally, just as we were landing, I decided I would stay the night and return tomorrow…but that all changed when reality set in.

Once off the plane, I was greeted by a handsome Hawaiian man who had my name on a sign…Cassie Williams I noted, but it wasn’t his fault. He took my bags, called me ma’am and took me on an hour long drive to the middle of nowhere. I checked into the hotel and was given an agenda by a young blonde woman who introduced herself as Betty.

“We have been expecting you, Ms. Williams,” she greeted with the warmest of smiles.

“You have?” I asked.

“Ms. Amber has booked you in for the full service celebrity package,” Betty explained.

I noticed the use of the Ms. again and tried to recall if this was a place that Amber had rebuilt. Ignoring that curiosity for the moment, I asked, “And what does that include?”

“A week long journey of serenity and self-discovery,” she smiled, before adding, “in layman terms you get to live like the stars do, except with no media to distract your mediation.”

“No media?” I asked, my cell phone my best friend.

“None,” she repeated, adding, “no phone service, no Internet service, not even a T.V.”

“I didn’t know such a place even existed in this world,” I said, shocked.

“Here is your key,” Betty said, her smile so sweet and comforting.

I asked, taking the key, a serious question, “What will I do here for a week?”

“Don’t you worry about that; your whole schedule for the week has been pre-planned by Ms. Amber,” the pony-tailed blonde explained.

“Figures,” I mumbled under my breath, before asking, having to know, “Why do you call her Ms. Amber?”

“That is her name,” she responded, as if the answer was obvious.

“Yes, but you called me Ms. Williams,” I pointed out.

“Which is your name, isn’t it,” she said, seemingly genuinely confused by my confusion.

Figuring this was enough of the ‘Who’s on First’ routine, I said, “Thank you, Betty, all I need now is a glass of Chardonnay and a good long night’s sleep.”

“I will have Spencer carry your bags up and bring you a list of all our exotic drinks,” Betty said, ringing the bell.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a shirtless Roman God with muscles like a wrestler appeared.

“Room 69, Spencer?” Betty instructed.

“Yes, Ms. Betty,” the Greek God said taking my bags.

Again the Ms. and first name, it was driving me nuts. I followed behind him and quickly learned he was just as perfect from behind as he was from the front. Suddenly feeling adventurous and horny, I wondered if he would enjoy a blow job as a tip. I let my teenage lust out as we arrived at my room…which would be a very inaccurate description. It was a Penthouse, with its own library wall. Candles were lit throughout the massive spread and classical music played that seemed to be coming from all directions.

I turned to Spencer the God of all Men and attempting to turn on my charm I smiled, “Can you stay for a drink?”

“Sorry, Ms. Williams, the help is not allowed to fraternize with the guests,” he replied.

My hand on his chest, I asked, on full attack mode, “You sure? You look like a rule breaker.”

“I am flattered, ma’am,” he said, “but I must decline.”

“If you change your mind just knock three times,” I flirted, the implication of what I was offering obvious.

“Ok, ma’am,” he said, trying to be polite, but clearly not interested.

“Can you please bring me a bottle of Chardonnay?” I requested, trying to regain a shred of integrity.

“Of course, Ms. Williams,” he said, leaving me standing there frustrated by his rebuff of my offer.

I walked around the room in awe at the luxurious room before going to the balcony. Opening the door, I walked out and was instantly on the beach and a hundred yards from the ocean. The fresh air was vitalizing and seemed to be clearing my senses.

A knock at the door brought me back into the room. Opening my door, Spencer was there with a full bottle of Chardonnay and walked in and placed it on the glorious oak table. “Do you need anything else, Ms. Williams?”

“Not unless you have reconsidered my offer,” I smiled, coyly.

“Sorry, ma’am, rules are rules,” he said.

Once he was gone, I poured myself a glass of wine and returned outside. I tried to think of the last time a man had refused my advances. I had never married because the thought of a man I would have to look after was exhausting. Instead, I went from fling to fling, the men staying the same age even as I got older. Not having the baggage that a relationship carries had afforded me the opportunity to build my business, to travel to exotic places and to have a great home and many of the other luxuries of my life.

Very few people believed me when I said I was forty. Like my mother, I have aged well due to a mixture of things including: my DNA, my rigorous work out regiment, and a healthy diet. I have hazel eyes that many men have complimented, pitch black hair that shines and a smile that has always been my secret weapon to get what I want (until Spencer that is). I have firm strong legs that I usually showcase in my trademark silky shine mocha pantyhose, I still have firm 38D breasts that I accentuate with tight blouses and dresses and a pretty perfect ass that is highlighted when I do wear jeans..which isn’t too often. In other words, I never had much problem getting a man when I needed one, I just seldom needed one.

With today’s technology it isn’t just phones that have improved greatly, so have the toys, which I sure was wishing I would have thought to have brought with me instead of forgetting in my rush to catch my abrupt flight. I did have to admit though, first class was a whole new world of flying. Not sure I could afford it every time I flew, but I would definitely be considering it if my store took off like Amber implied it would in her hands.

My first glass gone, mixed with the crazy day, a lengthy flight and my exhaustion hit me hard. After taking one more look at the ocean and the waves lazily hitting the shore, I returned to my glorious room. I put the rest of the Chardonnay in the fridge behind the bar and after all the usual night time routines, I collapsed into my bed. I was so tired, I don’t even remember falling asleep…but I do remember waking up.

The dream that shook me awake felt so real.

Spencer was in my room having changed his mind. “Ma’am, you are impossible to resist,” he said, as he lifted me into his arms and carried me outside. The warm breeze and fresh air hit us both as he laid me on the soft sandy beach just a few feet from where the waves continued to gently roll in and roll back out.

He lowered himself on top of me kissing me gently. My hunger to be pleased, to be fucked hard the way I usually like it, had me breaking the kiss and pushing him onto his back. I tugged off his pants and underwear and eagerly took his disappointingly still flaccid cock in my mouth. The feeling of a cock growing inside my mouth has always been a turn-on to me…I like the power…the knowledge that it is me making him grow. Although flaccid, it did look impressive, once fully erect he was a solid seven inches and thick. I bobbed up and down on his cock, enjoying the first cock I have had in a while until I couldn’t wait any longer.

Pulling his cock out of my mouth, I ordered, “Fuck me Spencer.”

He smiled back, holding his cock straight up, “No you fuck me.”

I didn’t hesitate as I tore my panties off and was left in only my flimsy nightie covering me up. I straddled his cock and lowered myself on him. His girth widened my wet pussy, making me feel full and hungry for more. I began riding his cock filling myself completely with each downward bounce. My body felt chills of euphoria as my impending orgasm began building inside me.

Surprising me, he lifted me up like I was a leaf and flipped me onto my back. Looking down at me, his smile began to change as his cock slid back into me. I closed my eyes enjoying his hard deep thrusts into me, my orgasm about to explode. Finally, he spoke, “Do you want to come, slut?”

I moaned, surprised by the sudden name-calling of this perfect gentleman, “God, yes, I am so close.”

“Beg for it,” he ordered, squeezing my tits roughly.

“Fuck yes, can I come baby, can I come like the dirty slut I am,” I begged, the orgasm imminent, and my own derogatory words surprising me.

“Come for me slut,” he ordered, and seconds later did just that, my body being swept away with an intensity I hadn’t felt for a long time.

He kept pounding away inside me…hard and deep…like I wanted it, as the orgasm continued to flow through me. Finally, opening my eyes, I screamed, as I was no longer being fucked my Spencer, but his face and body had been replaced by Amber who had a devious smile on her face.

…

I woke up flushed and my panties were soaked, my left hand still in them. I sat up and looked around, confused by my surroundings. Slowly, yesterday came flooding back as I stood up, my knees weak from the orgasm I apparently had in sleep. I walked to the sink and poured myself a glass of water as I tried to make sense of my dream. Still exhausted and deciding it was nothing more than a lack of sleep, I downed the water and returned to bed. I drifted back into slumber rather quickly…but deep in my subconscious I was really rattled by the strange end to my dream.

SATURDAY

The next morning I was woke up by a knock at the door. I groggily staggered to the door and asked, “Who is it?”

“Room service, Ms. Williams,” a female voice answered.

“What time is it?” I asked, starting to wake up.

“Eight o’clock,” she answered, “your breakfast is here for you.”

“Ok,” I replied, surprised by the scheduled breakfast. I opened the door and a petite Chinese girl dressed in a shockingly revealing hostess outfit stood in front of me, holding a tray. The top of her white thigh high stockings were in clear view and her matching blouse was way too tight for her large breasts…and she was wearing five inch opened toe heels that allowed her pink toenails to peak through.

“Good morning, ma’am,” she said, bowing to me slightly before coming into my room and placing the tray on the table made for eight. “How was your slumber, ma’am?”

“Very refreshing,” I answered, realizing how good I felt. I was not a morning person, so feeling so alert and fresh after being woken up was rare for me.

“Excellent,” the young Chinese woman replied, before adding, “My name is Bao and I will be your hostess for the week?”

“What happened to Spencer?” I asked, hoping to see more eye candy.

“He is on the evening shift ma’am,” she answered.

Always interested in the origin of names, another quirk of mine, I asked, “And where does the name Bao originate from?”

“It means precious treasure, ma’am,” she answered.

“Very cool,” I said.

She smiled softly and said, “Ma’am, your full body massage is at nine.”

“How do they know I want a full body massage?” I asked, even though nothing in the world sounded better.

“Your whole visit here has been scheduled by Ms. Amber,” she answered.

“Have you met Ms. Amber?” I asked, digging for dirt.

“Yes, Ma’am,” she replied.

“Did she reinvent this business?”

“Yes, ma’am, she changed everything.”

“Everything?” I asked.

“Yes, Ma’am she changed this location from an obscure secret location to the ultimate hot spot for the rich and famous.”

“Like who?” I asked.

“I am not allowed to say, Ma’am.”

“Understood,” I said, understanding the concept of confidentiality.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

“No, I am good,” I said, not used to being pampered.

“I will be back to get you ready at eight forty-five, Ma’am,” she said.

“Thank you, Bao,” I replied.

She bowed, this time without the tray, like a servant and said, “You are welcome.”

She left and I shook my head at just how bizarre this experience had been so far and deciding since I was already here I would stay for the week…already feeling refreshed after just one evening.

I took a bite of my eggs and almost instantly had a food orgasm as they were literally the best tasting eggs I have ever had. The rest of the meal was just as amazing as I relaxed and ate in peace…something that seldom happened.

I was startled when there was a knock at the door.

I called, “Come in,” as I glanced at the clock and realized I had been eating for forty-five minutes.

Bao walked in and asked, “How was breakfast, ma’am?”

“Almost orgasmic,” I joked.

She quickly replied, with just the slightest hint of a smile, “Well, then just wait until you have had your massage.”

“Oh my,” I said standing up with a soft playful laugh.

Bao went to my bedroom and returned with a robe. She put it on me and said, “Follow me.”

I did, amazed at the grace this petite woman had while wearing such ridiculously high heels.

I was led into a room with at least a couple of dozen candles which gave off a sweet fruity aroma, while light jazz played in the background. Bao said, “Please get undressed and comfortable on the massage table. Tiffany will be with you shortly.”

Bao left and I undressed and got comfortable. A few minutes later, the mixture of the sweet aroma and the light jazz and I was falling back asleep when yet another ridiculously pretty woman came in. Just as ridiculous was her outfit. Although the attire itself was what one would expect, the white stockings and five inch heels were not. She was a ravenous redhead, with exotic blue eyes and looked to be in her earlier thirties.

“Good morning, Ms. Williams, my name is Tiffany. How are you enjoying your stay so far?” she asked, grabbing the oil.

“Exquisite so far,” I smiled.

“Great word choice,” she smiled, before instructing me. “Now just relax.”

“Will do,” I agreed, already well on my way.

The next two hours were pure heaven. She worked every nerve ending of my body it seemed as I became jelly from her touch.

When she was done, she instructed, “Drink a lot of water today and I will see you again Monday.”

“You will?” I asked.

“You get me three times,” she smiled with a wink.

Once she left, I lay there for a couple of minutes before Bao startled me by returning. She handed me my robe and suggested, “You may want to shower to get all the oil off of you.”

I took the robe and agreed as she led me back to my room. The shower turned into a bath and I almost fell asleep when there was a knock on the door. I yelled, “Come in,” as I got out of the bathtub.

“Lunch is served,” Bao called.

Grabbing a robe after I dried off, I headed back to the dining room where another crazy spread of food awaited me.

Bao said, “Your next appointment is at one.”

I looked at the clock it was just after twelve.

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“A meeting with Dr. Washington.”

“And he is?”

“Your emotional consultant,” Bao answered.

“What does that mean?” I asked, confused by her answer.

“It is best if you find out for yourself,” she answered.

I ate lunch, got dressed and as expected Bao arrived to take me to my appointment.

I was led into another surreal room with books on three walls, a desk, a chair, a couch, and candles everywhere.

Again, like the massage, the room was very relaxing. I sat down on a comfortable chair and was again beginning to drift off when the door opened and a husky male voice spoke.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Williams,” a voice spoke.

I opened my eyes and was face to face with another ridiculously good looking man, around my age, with a beard and rare green eyes. “Hi, Doctor.”

“Please call me Phillip,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Call me Cassandra,” I replied, turning on my flirt mode.

“Well, Cassandra let’s have you move over to the couch,” he said, pulling me up.

I flirted, my libido still revved up and ready to go after last night’s flirtations with Spencer, “Hmmmm, are you going to join me?”

He chuckled, “Let’s just start the old fashioned way.”

“Ok,” I agreed, lying down on the comfortable couch, my sexual charms again rebuffed.

“So tell me about your business,” he began.

“Well, you want the short or long version?” I asked.

“The long,” he replied, with a clipboard in his hand.

The next forty minutes I retold my life story from the opening of my store to the glory days of the late 1990s and finally to the recent downward spiral I was currently dealing with.

“So your store is the most important thing in your life?” he finally asked, forty minutes of only nodding and making odd hmm-mmmm sounds.

“Yes, it has been my life,” I admitted.

“Any regrets?” he asked, a strange out of the blue question.

“No,” I instantly answered.

“Not one?” he questioned, digging deeper.

“Well, only that my business is floundering,” I sighed.

“Interesting,” he said.

“How so?” I asked.

He chuckled, but ignored my question. “I was informed by Ms. Amber that you are not married or in a relationship?”

“No,” I admitted, explaining, “men are way too much work.” Feeling very annoyed that Amber had been speaking to anyone about my personal life. Besides how did she know whether or not I was or wasn’t in a relationship.

“So your store being successful is more important than a romantic relationship?”

“God, yes,” I said.

“What causes you stress?” he asked.

I thought about this a while before realizing that all my stress was from running my store, twenty-four seven. We spent a few minutes discussing the in and outs, up and downs of having a store, the growing stress that had been compounded by the economic slowdown which had conversely had an impact on my bottom line.

Finally, my time was up and he suggested, “Well, I think you have come here at the perfect time, Cassandra. I recommend you really enjoy your time here and reflect on what you really want in your life.”

I thought I knew exactly what I wanted in my life before this, but this hour had me reflecting about my obsession with my store and just how much of my life and energy I had spent on it.

“I will see you on Monday,” he finished.

I walked out of his office and Bao was waiting for me. She led me back to my room and said, “Please change into your swimming suit as your hot tub treatment is next.”

“When?” I asked, really wanting to take a nap.

“Thirty-minutes.”

“Ok,” I said, yawning, “it has been a rather exhausting day.”

“This is your last scheduled activity for the day,” Bao informed me.

“Good,” I said and Bao left. I sat on the couch and reflected on my weird hour with Dr. Washington and how without saying it he questioned everything I had spent my life working on. Yet, the more I thought about it the more I disagreed with him. My store was who I was…you couldn’t separate one without killing the other…as White Wedding had become the essence of who I was. I couldn’t fathom living a life without my business.

After a few minutes, I changed into my two piece swimsuit that I bought to showcase my body while in Mexico last year.

Again, Bao arrived and led me this time to a luxurious indoor hot springs. The next hour, I just relaxed in the hot water letting my mine go blank.

Once done, I had supper in my room and sat on the beach until long after sundown just enjoying the beauty of the setting I was at.

Exhausted, I staggered to bed and fell asleep instantly.

I began to dream and again it was vividly real. Dr. Washington said, “Let’s take your mind off of your store for a while,” as he unbuckled his pants and offered me his cock.

I smiled, “Is this part of the regular session?”

“Each patient gets what they need,” he smiled, before ordering, “Now get sucking, slut.”

I had never been one to like name calling, yet his firm order had my pussy gushing. I opened my mouth and took his six-inch already fully erect cock in my mouth.

I started slow, enjoying his cock in my mouth, until he demanded, “I said suck my cock.”

I obeyed the order, shifting instantly to faster bobbing.

“That’s better cocksucker,” he grunted.

Suddenly, I was craving his sweet cum. I began deep-throating his cock hungrily.

“Does my slut want my cum,” he questioned.

“God, yes,” I replied, taking his cock out of my mouth, before just as quickly taking it back in my mouth.

I bobbed back and forth like the slut he said I was for another minute before I was rewarded with the first shots of cum exploding into my mouth. I didn’t slow down as I swallowed every drop of the doctor’s salty seed.

I didn’t stop until I heard the strange feminine voice say, “Good girl, Cassie.”

Looking up, I was no longer staring up at Dr. Washington, but instead seeing Amber’s face.

For the second straight night, I woke up a wet mess and confused at the bizarreness of Amber being in them.

SUNDAY

Day two was the complete opposite of day one. After breakfast, I was taken for a day on the ocean where I swam with dolphins, went scuba diving, and went on a three-hour ocean cruise. It was one of the most exotic days of my life. By the time I returned to my room at seven in the evening I was so exhausted I ended up falling asleep on the couch not waking up until there was knocking on my door thirteen hours later.

MONDAY

Day three was a repeat of day one where I had a long massage in the morning, although this time the masseuse spent a long time on my buttocks, her hand getting awfully close to my pussy which, although she never touched, had it begging for attention. I couldn’t believe how her touch, so innocent in nature, somehow had my pussy begging for attention. I wondered what I would do if she crossed the line and touched my pussy.

My second meeting with Dr. Washington was more intense than our first meeting as he questioned my long-term goals, both professional and personal. I opened up more admitting to a couple of heartbreaking break-ups when I was in college that had led to my reverse serial monogamist lifestyle and to my focus on satisfying my emptiness through work. He then asked me why a bridal shop. I explained that I had always loved weddings, ever since I was a kid, and always wanted to have a bridal shop.

He asked, “Do you ever think that maybe you are living vicariously through your job?”

“No,” I quickly replied without even thinking about it.

“Think about it Cassandra, are you happy?” he asked, just as time was up.

Back in my room, I couldn’t get his last question out of my head. I chuckled at the cliché sentence ‘always the bridesmaid never the bride’ as I tried to justify the life I had been living for years. ‘Am I happy?’ What a stupid fucking question. Three simple words and my head was spinning with a question that should have been so easy to answer. Yet, it wasn’t as black and white as it should have been.

The question continued to nag at me as I relaxed in the hot springs and the answer continued to elude me throughout dinner and all evening as I sat on the beach alone…alone…alone.

As Tiffany gently massaged my ass, I felt my pussy tingle with a sudden need of attention as I let out a slight moan.

Tiffany asked, “Are you all right, Cassie?”

“S-s-sure,” I stammered distracted and suddenly embarrassed.

Her hands returned to my buttocks and she slowly moved my legs apart. My eyes went big as her hands slid between my legs and gliding ever so slowly towards my wetness. She asked, her voice dripping with innuendo, “Would Cassie like the full massage service treatment?”

“Yeeees,” I whimpered, praying I understood her intent properly.

Her fingers slid down my ass cheeks and to my wanton pussy. A moan again escaped my lips. Her fingers teased my pussy lips for a minute before she said, “Role onto your back, Cassie.”

I obeyed quickly and opened my legs suddenly wanting nothing more than to experience my first lesbian experience. Once her outfit was off, she surprised me by joining me on the table but instead of going between my legs she straddled my face, lowering her completely shaved pussy onto my face. Even though I had never seriously considered being with a woman, I didn’t hesitate as I extended my tongue to her slightly glistening pussy lips. Her taste was unlike anything I had ever experienced and after a few tentative licks, I became eager.

Her moans increased as my eagerness did, and I was surprised when I suddenly felt a slap on my clit. It stung, but in a good way, adding fuel to an already well kindled fire. I moaned into her pussy as an intense pleasure rumbled through me. I continued licking as Tiffany continued spanking my pussy. I knew my orgasm was imminent.

“Beg to cum, slut,” I heard.

I screamed, “Oh God, yes, please let me come,” I begged, as I continued licking her pussy wanting to get her off.

“Call me Mistress Amber,” the voice ordered.

I didn’t even hesitate as I responded, my body desperate for release, “Mistress Amber, please let your little slut come.”

My clit was suddenly frantically rubbed and in seconds my orgasm hit me just as my face was coated with pussy juice from the cunt above my face.

Waking up yet again from an orgasm induced dream, I couldn’t believe how I got off being called slut and calling Amber Mistress. Why were all my dreams having Amber pop up in them? It was a frustrating question that I had no reasonable answer. I wasn’t a lesbian and even if I was going to experiment it wasn’t going to be with a bitch like Amber.

TUESDAY

Day four was another pampering day where I spent hours getting every inch of my body made over. I had a full skin revitalising as my skin was exfoliated, nourished and pampered, my skin literally becoming softer. A vitality wrap followed as did a manicure, a pedicure, foot soak and much to my shock a Brazilian (I had always went with the all natural look, so this took quite a bit of time and hurt a fair amount). Time in the Jacuzzi and a facial occurred after lunch and the afternoon ended with a haircut and red streaks added which seemed to make me look even younger. All the while, I was fed the most delicious cocktails ever and by the time I had supper I was not drunk, but well past tipsy.

Alone in my room, my hand went to my completely shaved pussy and I began rubbing myself. Horny as hell, my fingers were not enough and I went to the mini-bar and grabbed an empty wine bottle. I fell on the nearby couch, closed my eyes and began rubbing the bottle up and down my wet pussy lips.

Again Spencer who had continued to ignore my relentless flirtation popped into my head as the bottle neck slowly slid between my swollen lips and inside my needy pussy. But as I began sliding the makeshift cock in and out of me the images of who was fucking me changed. First it was Bao with a strap-on cock, then Marty the clearly gay black who had done my hair, next was the red haired Tiffany pumping her fingers into me, then it was Matthew my first boyfriend and it ended again with Amber this time slamming a strap-on cock in and out of me with that same smug smile she had in my office.

I screamed as my much needed orgasm waved through me as my mind played tricks on me. I had never considered a woman sexually, yet I couldn’t help but notice the beauty of every woman who worked here, nor could I deny the reality that as much as I hated Amber’s attitude, her long legs and confident demeanor had me in awe of her.

Like every other day at this relaxation paradise, I crashed early and slept through the night.

WEDNESDAY

Day five was another repeat of days one and three. Again, Tiffany gave me a thorough massage, her hands so smooth and tender. It was like she put me on constant tease, her hands tantalizing close to my breasts and pussy. In the end, leaving me high and wet.

I was to meet with Dr. Washington after lunch. I approached the meeting with apprehension as I realized I had not been able to answer his very simple question.

As soon as the session started, he asked, “So, were you able to answer the question I left you with yet, Cassandra?”

An hour later, I had thoroughly been psychoanalysed and felt like I had been mentally mind-fucked. As I returned to my room so many questions still lingered in my head as did my answers to his questions:

“What makes you happy?” he opened with.

I considered the answer a long time. “My store being successful,” I finally answered.

“Are you currently happy?” he pressed on.

Again I pondered the question and his real intention for asking such a question. “Of course, I am happy. I enjoy my life and have very few regrets.”

“What regrets do you have?” he asked, pulling out one word from my response.

“Well of course I have made sacrifices to have a successful store, mostly in regards to losing touch with friends and making White Wedding more important than any relationship.”

“Do you regret those sacrifices?” he dug deeper.

“Oh sure, every once and in a while a ‘what if’ thought pops in my head, but that is natural for everyone,” I said, trivializing the assessment.

Changing topics it seemed, he asked, “What do you want in life?”

I answered without hesitation. “For my store to be successful enough, that I could travel more and maybe have time for a relationship.”

“Can’t you have both? A successful store and a happy relationship?”

“I have never found that to be the case,” I admitted.

A while later after he questioned my view of love, my definition of success and questions about my past relationships before he changed topics again. “What would you do if your shop failed?”

“It can’t,” I answered.

“Why not?” he pushed.

“It is all I have,” I admitted. I couldn’t imagine my store ever failing, as my identity and White Wedding had blurred into one. I was my White Wedding and White Wedding was me.

“What you have to ask yourself is if you are ok with that?” he asked, just as time was up.

As I was leaving, my mind spinning with more questions than answers after my time with the doctor, “I want you to spend tonight making up a bucket list. What you want to do before you die,” the doctor instructed me.

These questions bounced inside my head while I was relaxing in the hot springs, during supper and as I sat on the beach and watched the sunset. I made up my bucket list which came flowing out of me way easier than I thought it would.

1. To have my store successful again.
2. To travel all of Europe.
3. To fall in love.
4. To learn another language.
5. To write a book.
6. To read more.
7. To see the Rolling Stones live.
8. To become a better cook.
9. To meet Brad Pitt (actually to fuck Brad Pitt)
10. To learn to make my own wine.
11. To wear a wedding dress.
12. To kiss a girl and maybe more.

After writing number twelve, I paused and re-read it. Before a few days ago such an idea would never have popped into my head, but there it was. Closing my eyes I again imagined Bao, Tiffany and Amber seducing me.

My hand wandered to my already slightly damp pussy and I began rubbing my clit as yet another fantasy popped into my head. There was no Spencer this time, just Bao, Tiffany and Amber each taking me. I begged Bao to lick my pussy, I begged Tiffany to fuck me with a strap-on cock, and I begged Amber to let me please her, by licking her pussy.

Amber smiled suddenly at my desk, in my chair, as she ordered, “Crawl to me Cassie.”

I obeyed silently, my face burning with shame and excitement. This was MY office.

“Good girl, Cassie,” she purred as I crawled towards her.

“Under my desk like a good little pet,” she ordered.

I instantly obeyed, turned on by the order even as my head screamed no. Once under my desk, she opened her legs and asked, “Does Cassie want to eat my cunt?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

“Yes what, slut?” she asked.

Although being called ‘slut’ was like a slap in the face, I reworded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s Mistress you dumb cunt,” Amber snapped, her glare burning right through me.

“S-s-sorry, yes Mistress Amber,” I stammered, ashamed at my eagerness to please and yet desperate to make her happy.

“Beg bitch,” she ordered, her fingers slowly spreading her pussy lips.

An insatiable hunger welled up inside of me and the words out of my mouth were unlike any I had ever said before (when with a man I was always the one in charge), “Please, let your slut eat your wet cunt. Make me your cunt pleaser.”

Her smile was smug, just like it was in my office that first day, as she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me into her wetness.

I came hard on the beach as the bizarre fantasy brought an intense rush of pleasure through me. Realizing where I was, I opened my eyes and went red in shame as I saw a few others were watching me rub myself to orgasm. Even as my body continued to twitch with pleasure, I grabbed my journal and scurried into my room mortified by my actions.

Once inside, I burst out laughing suddenly amused at the reality of what I had done. Although embarrassed, I didn’t know any of those people and it was liberating to think that I had done something so taboo.

I finished my bucket list while having a hot bath and went to bed wondering what was planned for me my last full day.

THURSDAY

Day six started shockingly with me having an orgasm in my sleep.

In my vivid dream, I was woken up with a tongue lapping at my pussy. I shot up and stammered, pulling the sheets off me and staring into Bao’s sweet eyes, “W-w-what are you doing?”

Bao looked up and explained, “Ms. Amber instructed I must wake you up with an orgasm.”

“What?” I said, equally flabbergasted by both the act and the reason.

“Sorry ma’am, but Amber’s instructions were very clear,” Bao explained, still between my legs. Without another word, Bao returned between my legs licking me gently, slowly getting me warmed up and wet, a slow burn wake-up call. I lay back and enjoyed the gentleness surprised at just how good having my pussy licked could be. Most men I was intimate with were either terrible pussy lickers, or didn’t even bother going down on me, but Bao had obviously done this before.

The slow increasing build up finally came to a crashing wave after an eternity of sweet tease and I came harder than I ever had with a man.

I jolted up and saw that I was alone in my room. I couldn’t believe just how real the dream felt and that evidence was prevalent from the wetness between my legs. The dream itself was strange, but stranger was the fact that somehow Amber had again been a part of it.

After a shower and breakfast, where I couldn’t help but look at Bao in a different light before I was surprised once again.

Bao said, “Today Ms. Amber has planned a very full last day for you.”

The mention of Ms. Amber had my naughty wet dream popping instantly into my head. “She did?” I asked.

Bao nodded, “Yes, please follow me.”

I followed Bao to a new room that had a fashion show runway where I met Eleanor, a well dressed woman in, of course, five inch heels.

“Hi, Ms. Williams,” the ridiculously beautiful woman greeted.

“Hi,” I replied, before asking, “And what do you have in store for me?”

“Cat walk training,” she answered, pointing to the runway.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes, Ms. Amber insisted you have a couple of hours of practice,” Eleanor explained.

“Why?” I questioned, the expectation absurd.

“No idea, but Ms. Amber expects women to dress to impress and to walk the walk,” she answered, pointing to her heels, “in five inch heels.”

“Why does everyone wear such ludicrous heels?” I asked.

She smiled, as if my question was silly, “Ms. Amber expects all her employees to wear five inch heels.”

“But she is my employee,” I pointed out.

Eleanor shrugged, “I have no idea about your situation, but here she trained all of us to dress professionally but with a touch of sexiness and five inch heels.”

“Oh,” was all I could get out.

“Ms. Amber sent over three outfits and a few pairs of heels for you to try on and expects you wearing one of them when you return,” Eleanor explained.

“Well, I think I am fine with what I always wear,” I replied, turning to leave.

Eleanor’s tone shifted to worried as she pleaded, “Ms. Williams, please reconsider. If Ms. Amber has requested it, trust me there is a reason. She turned our near bankrupt spa into the most sought after spa in America. She knows what she is doing.”

“Well, it could be fun,” I shrugged, not wanting to give in, but seeing an odd fear in Eleanor’s tone and demeanor.

Clearly relieved, she said, “Come this way.”

The next fifteen minutes I tried on all three outfits and all five pairs of five inch heels. Each outfit was professional and yet sexy at the same time and somehow enhanced perfectly my voluptuous breasts. The heels, however, were ludicrous and I almost killed myself trying them on, never mind trying to walk while wearing them.

Eleanor said, “Up next, high heel walking.”

“Don’t you mean high heel homicide?” I joked, standing up in the heels that had me wavering like a buoy in rough waters.

She laughed, “Don’t worry, it just takes practice.”

“I am pretty sure there is not enough time left in my lifetime to survive walking in these things,” I replied.

“You would be amazed,” she softly encouraged. “It was like when I went to visit a friend in Canada in December last year. I never thought I would survive the blizzard freezing cold, but I did and after a few days my body began to adjust to the biting chill.”

“Well, you only die once,” I quipped.

“And at least you will have a story for heaven,” she quipped right back.

I laughed as I followed her awkwardly in the ludicrous five-inch heels onto what looked to be an actual fashion runway.

I won’t get into the details but for the next hour, I strutted my stuff on the runway slowly getting more used to wearing the heels and slowly building confidence as Eleanor complimented me and gave me advice. It was bizarrely exhilarating to walk the runway even if no one was watching other than Eleanor.

When Eleanor announced, “Well time is up,” I was actually disappointed and stunned to learn over an hour and a half had flew by.

“Oh, ok,” I said, trying not to act disappointed.

Eleanor explained, “Ms. Amber made it clear you are to wear the five inch heels and one of the outfits she choose when you return to the store tomorrow and on the flight.”

“Why?” I asked, thinking such an outfit and heels very inconvenient for such a flight.

“Ms. Amber always has a purpose,” Eleanor replied, as if Amber was Yoda.

“Well, we will see,” I replied, not planning to obey the silly expectation.

“Please, do,” Eleanor said, “You don’t want to get on Ms. Amber’s bad side.”

Her tone again alarmed me and I wondered what Amber had over her. To pacify her I agreed, “Ok, I will wear one of the outfits.”

“And the heels?” she questioned.

“And the heels,” I agreed.

“Great,” Eleanor said, suddenly her chipper self again. She gave me a hug and said, “Now for the best part of your week.”

“I can’t fathom what could possibly be left,” I replied, meaning it.

She smiled, “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.

And she was right. A three hour personal flight tour over Hawaii was the most thrilling moment of my life. I have never seen such beauty as I did during those three hours as it was just a chance to revel in the awe of the natural beauty of the world.

I never wanted it to end, but of course all good things do and I spent the evening packing and then watching the sunset while laying leisurely on the beach, reflecting on my bucket list and everything I wanted from my life. I decided I would work with Amber once I returned to make my business successful again, but I also would not be the workaholic I had been. It was time to start enjoying the small pleasures in life and I knew that this week of seclusion had forever changed me.

My last night I had yet another intense sex dream, my most intense yet.

I was walking the runway, finally getting pretty good with the ridiculous five inch heels when Amber sauntered in.

“On your knees,” Amber ordered.

Eleanor instantly fell to her knees.

Amber glared at me and demanded, her tone ice cold, “You too, Cassie.”

I had no intention of obeying yet I felt my body lowering itself to the floor.

“Good girl,” she purred as she slipped out of her skirt revealing she was wearing a big strap-on. I watched hypnotized by her big cock as she said, “Hmmmm, does my little slut want my cock?”

I didn’t respond, although the dampness in my pussy spoke volumes.

“Crawl to me my slut,” Amber instructed, stepping onto the runway.

“Again I wanted to stop myself, but instead felt my body crawling towards her.

“Good girl,” she purred smiling. “You want me to fuck you?”

I admitted as I reached her feet, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” she questioned as she tapped my head with her rubber cock, adding to the humiliation which somehow made me even wetter.

“Yes, Mistress,” I reworded, submitting to her, giving her the power.

“Suck my cock, get it ready for your cunt,” Amber demanded.

She shoved the plastic cock in my mouth and began slowly fucking my mouth. I responded by sucking it like I would a real cock. A couple of minutes of sucking the distasteful rubber cock, and she pulled out and demanded, “Turn around, slut.”

I didn’t hesitate as I turned around. She lifted my skirt up, yanked my panties aside, and thrust her cock in me without any warning.

She fucked me like a man, hard and fast, just how I liked it. I whimpered, “Fuuuuuck, yes.”

“You like being my slut?” she asked, spanking my ass.

“Yes, Mistress, I love being your slut,” I moaned, as she continued thrusting into me.

“Come slut, come on my cock like the dirty dyke whore you are,” Amber demanded.

“Oh yes, oh, oh, oh, uh yes, fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, I’m comiiiiiiing,” I screamed as my humiliating orgasm came flooding through me.

I woke up with my fingers in my cunt and my juices leaking out liberally. I shook my head frustrated by my inner mind’s obsession with Amber. I was determined to deal with her once and for all when I returned tomorrow; yet, I had no idea what was waiting for me once I returned to the real world after my sojourn of tranquility.

4. MY RETURN

My morning flight left at 6 in the morning and thus I was up at 3:30, dressed according to Amber’s expectations figuring it was not worth the fight.

I actually slept during the flight, something I never usually do and arrived home relatively refreshed after the flight (thank God for first class).

I waited for my luggage and was watching CNN on a television in the baggage area for a few minutes where I heard the newscaster announce that Taylor Wilson, the super movie star, was apparently getting married. I couldn’t care less about celebrity gossip or their lives and was just about to turn away from the television when I saw her in a wedding dress in what was definitely my store.

Suddenly Amber was being interviewed but the volume was off and I couldn’t understand what she was saying. I watched stunned as I saw a couple of very pretty young women seemingly helping other customers that were definitely not my employees. The store seemed packed and at the bottom of the television screen was Amber Anderson CEO of White Wedding (Ironic because my store was too small to have a CEO). Taylor Wilson was also interviewed seemingly gushing over the dress.

I grabbed my luggage and headed to the taxi lane. As I waited impatiently for a taxi, I grabbed my phone, which I remembered I could now use, and called the office.

Sophia answered.

I interrupted her usual greeting we had established as our phone protocol years ago and said, “Hi Sophia, it’s me Cassandra.”

“Hi, Cassie,” she replied.

I was surprised by her using ‘Cassie’ something she knew I hated and something she had never in all our years working together had ever used. Yet, I ignored it as I wanted to know what was going on. “How was the week without me?”

“Life changing,” Sophia answered, without any hint of sarcasm.

“I saw Amber on the news while I was waiting for my luggage,” I said.

Sophia replied, “Yes, Ms. Amber and Ms. Wilson called a press conference yesterday to announce her upcoming wedding.”

“At my store?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Yes, Cassie,” Sophia said again.

“Why are you calling me Cassie?” I asked, now annoyed, just as a taxi rolled up.

“That is what Ms. Amber insisted you be called now,” my best friend answered.

“But why did you agree to do so?” I asked, as the taxi driver took my luggage and I stepped into the taxi.

“There is only obeying Ms. Amber,” Sophia explained, as if that answered everything.

“Well, please don’t do it anymore,” I instructed.

Suddenly I heard Amber’s voice in the background, “Get in here, Sophia.”

“I have to go,” Sophia quickly blurted out and hung up the phone.

I was furious. Clearly Amber had bullied Sophia and was now treating her with disrespect. That is not how I ran my store, even if it meant being successful.

On the taxi ride to my store, I pulled out my phone and quickly searched for news on Taylor Wilson and White Wedding, but very little showed up.

I had the taxi take me directly to White Wedding curious to see what the so-called miracle worker could do in a week and yet more focused on putting the bitch in her place, no one treated my employees with such disrespect. Yet, the moment I walked into my store I knew instantly she was indeed a miracle worker. There were customers everywhere and I had a few new employees, each ridiculously attractive and all dressed in attractive, yet classy outfits that showcased their large breasts and long legs. Not surprisingly, each young woman was also wearing five inch heels. Also, the store had been completely re-organized. The walls were newly painted, the lay-out was more open and even the cashier area had been rebuilt. It was like I was walking into a brand new store and not one I had spent the past fifteen years building with blood, sweat and tears.

I walked through my store in awe of how busy it was; busier than it ever had been even when we were relatively successful. I got to the back, climbed the stairs and was surprised when Sophia was not at her desk.

I walked into my office and Amber was at my desk on the phone while Sophia was on the floor on her knees massaging Amber’s pantyhose-clad foot. Amber put her hand up in the air, implying I should wait until she was done on the phone.

I stared at Sophia who did not make eye contact with me as she resumed her odd menial task.

“Sophia what are you…” I began to say but was hushed by Amber.

Covering up the mouthpiece Amber glared at me and said her tone condoning, “I am on the phone.”

My calmness was already fading, as I kept looking at Sophia who continued massaging Amber’s foot while refusing to look my way. I impatiently waited as I surveyed my office, which was surprisingly, after seeing the massive renovations downstairs, still exactly the same as when I left.

Amber hung up the phone after a couple more minutes before asking, acting as if it wasn’t absurd that my secretary was giving her a foot massage. “Welcome back, Cassie, how was your sojourn?”

“It was surprisingly relaxing,” I replied, playing nice, before asking, “What is going on here?”

“Sophia is giving me a foot massage,” Amber responded as if that explained everything.

“I see that,” I said frustrated. “I mean why is she giving you a foot massage?”

“Because I told her to,” Amber answered, again responding as if this wasn’t strange.

I sighed and realizing quickly Amber was playing a game, I re-worded my question. “Why is Sophia not at her desk?”

Ignoring my question completely, she asked, “Do you like our stores’ new look?”

The word ‘our’ pissed me off too, but I remained calm, my trip to Relaxation Sensation apparently paying off. “I have to admit it is very impressive, shocking actually.”

“I am a magic worker,” Amber quipped back, before adding, “I see you wore one of the outfits I chose for you?”

I again could tell she was playing me, trying to control the situation. So I shrugged, sloughing off the fact that I obeyed her, “The heels were a bit much.”

“Oh no, the heels are the most important part,” she smiled. “It is the first part of my success theory; I began to tell you about the other day.”

I recalled that smug attitude that first day and the theory she hinted at but never revealed. I feigned curiosity, “I do recall you mentioning something about three keys to success.”

“Do you want to hear it?” she asked, as she dramatically shifted her legs giving Sophia her other foot.

“Why not?” I shrugged, curious of her so-called success plan and distracted by Sophia’s treatment.

“Well the first key is rather simple, dress for success. As a woman we must use every asset we have,” she explained.

I countered, “I think I have done quite well without flaunting my body.”

“Have you?” she asked, “last I checked you were near bankruptcy.”

“Well, the market killed me,” I again defended.

“Excuses, excuses,” she waved her hand. “Excuses are for losers.”

“Are you calling me a loser?” I asked, anger beginning to simmer.

“I didn’t say that,” she said softly, before adding, “but you did.”

“I will not have you insult me in my office,” I said, my anger continued to bubble.

She shrugged, looking at her watch, “Actually the rest of my leadership lesson will have to wait. I am heading out in a few minutes for the weekend to Paris. We will meet Monday morning at 9:00 to discuss my plan for our business,” she answered.

“But I…” I started.

“And I have put Nicole in charge while I am gone,” Amber said, standing up.

“Nicole?” I repeated.

“Yes, I have worked with her before in business transformations and she knows exactly what I expect,” Amber said, lifting her foot up.

I watched in stunned awe as Sophia put Amber’s leather boot on for her left foot. “I think I can run the store while you are gone,” I said.

“You are welcome to work downstairs, we could use another salesperson we are swamped. But Nicole will be in charge,” Amber said.

“But…” I began, as Amber switched feet and Sophia put the other boot on.

“Cassie my dear, trust me. You have put your business in very capable hands. Let me do what I do,” she said.

I sighed, realizing I had given her a job to do and although I didn’t like her style or blunt personality, the results so far were impossible to ignore. “Ok, but I want to see your whole plan Monday morning,” I said, firmly.

Once her boots were on, she smiled and said, “Of course, Cassie.”

Sophia stood up and followed Amber silently to the door. Amber stopped, turned and said, “Cassie, we will start YOUR training on Monday.”

Before I had time to process her odd statement she was gone and Sophia followed her out. A minute later, I was still standing in my office trying to understand what had just occurred when a young red haired woman walked into my office.

She walked up to me and introduced herself, “Hi, I am Nicole McCafferty.”

“I’m Cassandra Williams,” I smiled, breaking out of my trance like confusion.

“It is nice to meet you,” she smiled, so warm and charming, unlike Amber.

“You as well,” I returned.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Nicole moved to my desk and said, “Could you please get that Ms. Williams?”

I assumed Sophia would get it, but when it kept ringing, I moved to my desk and answered it. While I was talking to a customer about directions to our store, Nicole was on my computer.

Once off, I asked, “So how do you know Amber?”

“Sorority sisters,” Nicole answered.

“I was never in a sorority,” I said, one of my regrets.

“It was a pretty crazy time,” Nicole smiled, as if reminiscing.

“I imagine so,” I replied, feeling like I was making a connection with Nicole the way I usually do when I meet someone new.

We chatted for the next few minutes about trivial things such as the weather and how my flight had gone. Before she revealed how Amber had gotten Taylor Wilson as a customer through her sorority alumni connections and that all the new hires downstairs were hired on temporary contracts and worked on commission based pay. It was something I had never believed in, commission, instead treating employees like family instead of dollar signs, but when Nicole showed me the sales report for the week I was gone I almost shit myself. The numbers were twenty times what I had made last month and Nicole suggested the numbers were deceivingly low as most of the sales hadn’t really started until Tuesday.

As much as I disliked Amber’s people skills, I had to admit she had made the impossible, possible in one week.

Nicole suggested, “I hate to be so forward, I understand this is your store and all, but the girls downstairs are swamped, could you go on the floor and help?”

“Sure,” I replied, actually liking being on the floor with the customers. I started to leave, but finally remembered to ask where Camree and Tilley were, as they should have been working at this moment. “Where are Camree and Tilley?”

Nicole looked at me apologetically, “Amber let them go.”

“What?” I gasped.

“She said they didn’t fit into the new White Wedding image,” Nicole explained.

“Why, because they aren’t a size zero?” I said, suddenly angry again.

Nicole stood up and walked towards me, “I am not saying Amber’s decisions are always fair, but they are always successful. Plus, both were given very good severance packages.”

“I could be sued for wrongful dismissal,” I said.

“Amber made sure they signed non-disclosure agreements before they received their severance packages,” Nicole said, putting her hand on my arm.

Strangely, her touch sent a spark inside me. Nicole was easily one of the most beautiful women I have ever met in person and my week of self-discovery had made me reconsider my sexuality. I stammered, “W-w-well, I will talk to Amber about this on Monday.”

Nicole squeezed my arm gently, “You are welcome to do as you wish, but I suggest you let Amber do what Amber does.”

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“Well think about it,” Nicole said, returning to my desk. “But the girls downstairs could really use another body.”

I left my office and noticed that Sophia was not there which was odd. Did she go with Amber? That seemed unlikely, but the more I learned about Amber the more the unlikely seemed likely. The next three hours flew by as I assisted customers, met my three new employees I didn’t hire (each seemingly very nice) and watched my merchandise fly off the racks.

Exhausted, I went home and texted Sophia.

Where are u?

The reply came three hours later while I was in the bath tub right before bed. Getting out, I gasped when I saw the answer.

In Paris with Ms. Amber

I instantly texted back.

What? Why?

I got in my pajamas and flipped on the television waiting for a reply.

Amber wanted me to come with her as her personal assistant as she met with fashion designers this weekend.

I couldn’t believe what I read. Was I paying for this sojourn to Paris for the weekend?

What? What about Jack and the kids?

She responded almost immediately.

The kids are with Mom and Jack is thrilled to have the house to himself for a weekend. Sorry, the taxi has arrived I have to go.

Deciding I had no control over the situation and it seemed Sophia had decided to go with Amber on her own cognition. Although I was worried about her, Amber seemed to be manipulating her; I pretended to support her decision.

Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

She didn’t respond back.

That night, even though back in my own bed, I had another wet dream.

Amber’s legs were wide open and propped on my desk and I was under the desk between her legs licking her pussy; then I was licking Nicole’s pussy; back and forth like a yo-yo as I pleased them both, a collar around my neck with an attached leash being held by Amber.

Amber explained, speaking as if I wasn’t there, “You see Nicole, women like Cassie here are all the same. They think they are feminists, they think they are in control, and they don’t even realize what they are missing out on until someone like me puts them in their place.”

“Which is?” Nicole asked.

“On their knees eating cunt, of course,” Amber laughed, “Isn’t that right, Cassie?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I replied, while I continued licking Nicole’s pussy.

“What are you, Cassie?” Amber questioned, testing me.

“A slut, your slut, Mistress,” I answered without hesitation.

“And what do slut’s do?” Amber added.

“Obey,” I answered.

Waking up, I kept repeating the word obey over and over again. My panties were drenched as I tried to understand my mental obsession with Amber, a woman I detested. Yet, there was something about her that had drawn my subconscious into a new world, one that I couldn’t quite get my head around yet.

The rest of the weekend flew by as I went to work on Saturday and worked on the floor all day and actually had a night where I didn’t have a wet dream. Sunday I went in and tried to go through the weekly receipts, only to find they were all gone. I texted Sophia to have her ask Amber where the receipts were.

She replied:

Ms. Amber told me to tell you that Nicole is in charge of the store in her absence.

Although frustrated, there was nothing I could do about it until I spoke with Amber on Monday. So I enjoyed a leisurely Sunday as I prepared for Monday’s meeting…a conversation I played in my mind again and again.

I went to bed thinking of Amber and what was sure to be another power struggle and not surprisingly I had another frustrating wet dream.

This time it was me massaging Amber’s stocking-clad feet.

“You look good on your knees, Cassie,” Amber complimented.

“Thank you,” I replied, her comment meant to humiliate, yet somehow making me proud.

“You want to fuck yourself with my foot, don’t you, slut?” Amber asked, moving her stocking-clad foot to my face.

“What?” I asked, not sure I heard the question.

“You want to get off on my foot, say it, Cassie,” Amber ordered.

The thought had not even remotely popped into my head, yet now that it was there, the idea was all I could think of. “Yes, Mistress,” I admitted.

“Straddle my foot, slut,” Amber offered, moving her foot straight up, her nylon toes standing up.

Embarrassed, but horny, I awkwardly straddled her leg and foot and hesitated not sure what to do.

“Well fuck yourself, dummy,” Amber said, condescendingly.

I lowered my pussy directly onto her foot, the scene absurd, and used her toes as tiny cocks. I began to slowly buck back and forth, my wet pussy, opening up wanting more.

“Shit, your cunt is soaked, slut. You love being a little submissive slave, don’t you,” Amber smirked.

“Yes, Mistress, I love being your whooooore,” I moaned, as more of her toes slipped between my pussy lips.

“Get all my foot in,” she demanded.

“Yeeeees, Mistress,” I whimpered, wiggling back and forth like a slutty porn star as all five toes disappeared inside me.

“Now ride my foot cock,” she ordered, the smirk on her face one of utter amusement at just how desperate I was to obey, to come.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I moaned, as I began to fuck myself with her foot. It was utterly humiliating and doubly satisfying.

A couple of minutes of fucking myself, Amber finally demanded, “Come my pet, my whore, my slave, my pussy pleaser, my slut.”

Each derogatory name triggered a sensational pulsation of pleasure in my body and my orgasm exploded through me.

I woke up sweating and my pussy again leaking from a very vivid wet dream. What the hell? What was happening to me? Why was I continually having such stupid, yet authentic feeling dreams? I concluded whether it was good for business or not, Amber had to go.

5. A SHOCKING REVELATION

I arrived early for my so-called meeting with Amber. I wasn’t the least bit shocked that neither her or Sophia were there. Around 9:30, I texted Sophia.

Where are you?

I got no answer and sighed as I continued waiting. Nicole showed up around ten and I asked, my tone clearly annoyed, “Do you know where Amber is?”

“No, but Amber lives on Amber time,” Nicole shrugged, as if Amber usually did this.

“Well, I can’t have such unreliability at my store,” I said frustrated. “Plus, where is Sophia. She has never just not showed up before.”

“I imagine she is still with Amber,” Nicole said.

“None of this makes sense,” I said, flabbergasted.

“I agree. Amber has an unorthodox style. But she has never failed…at anything,” Nicole explained, before adding, her tone unreadable, “She always gets what she wants.”

“No one always gets what they want,” I replied, the statement rather extreme.

“Well,” Nicole chuckled, “There is an exception to every rule and Amber is definitely the exception to the rules.”

Nicole’s phone buzzed and she answered it. “Oh hi, Amber how was Paris…Two o’clock…Ok, I will send her out…I imagine so…Sunday was pretty busy as well…ok, see you this afternoon…bye.” Once off the phone, “They missed their flight last night and are on their way back as we speak.”

“Figures,” I said, again wondering if I was paying for this trip.

“She also asked me to send you on an errand,” Nicole added.

“I am not her assistant,” I said, coldly.

“She wants you to deliver the dress to Ms. Wilson,” Nicole explained.

“Oh,” I replied, suddenly no longer defensive. Amber was sending me to meet the celebrity who had obviously had a big part in White Wedding’s overnight resurrection. “Well, I guess I can do that.”

Nicole gave me the dress and the address and I headed to the hotel she was staying at, just a few blocks away. As I made the brief walk, in my five-inch heels which I had finally got used to, I pondered that maybe Amber was not so bad. She could have sent Nicole to do this, or did it herself when she returned, but sending me clearly made a statement that she still understood it was my store.

I had to pass security to get up to the penthouse and then had to wait over three hours before I was allowed up. Hungry and crabby, not a good mix, I headed up the elevator to meet one of the most famous women in the world. I was surprised when Ms. Wilson answered the door herself in a robe. “Excellent, I have been expecting you,” she smiled.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Wilson,” I said.

“I am sure it is,” she replied, as she said, “Follow me.”

I followed her into the penthouse suite which was nice, but much to my chagrin not as impressive as my suite at Relaxation Sensation.

We were in the bedroom when she took off her robe, now in only white panties and bra and said, “Grab the stockings from the bed.”

“Um, ok,” I said, laying the dress on the bed as I picked up the white stockings.

Sitting on a chair, she ordered, as if I was her servant, “Put my stockings on.”

“Pardon?” I asked, completely taken aback by her expectations.

“I don’t have all day,” she sighed.

Mortified by being treated like a servant, yet not wanting to upset my star client, I walked to her, dropped to my knees and slowly rolled the first stocking up her leg. I couldn’t believe what I was doing, nor could I believe that my mind stared at her panty covered pussy as I finished putting the first stocking on.

Noticing I was staring, Ms. Wilson laughed, “Hungry are we?”

“W-w-what? No, I was just distracted by your beauty,” I admitted, which was true but hopefully hid my brief naughty thought.

“Sure, sure,” she waved, clearly not buying my reply. I put the other stocking on her before standing up. “The dress,” she said.

I returned to the bed, grabbed the dress and took it out of its protective wrap. Once out, I returned to Ms. Wilson and assisted her with putting the dress on.

Once on, she went to the mirror and looked at herself. Her cheeks went red and she smiled for the first time since my arrival. “Perfect, Ms. Amber, really knows what she is doing.”

Even Taylor Wilson one of the biggest celebrities in the world called her Ms. Amber. Only Nicole didn’t, which was curious. “You look beautiful, Ms. Wilson,” I complimented.

“You are still here?” she asked.

“Sorry, ma’am,” I apologized, cut down to size in just four words.

She didn’t respond or turn around and I took that as her way of telling me I was to go. I was almost out of the room when she said, not turning around, “Have fun with your training.”

I had nothing to say to that, so I left her room, her penthouse suite and the hotel. It was almost two, but decided I couldn’t meet Amber until I had eaten as I am a total bitch when I am hungry…and I was starving. I grabbed a bite to eat and returned to the store a quarter after two.

I was surprised that Sophia was still not at her desk. I walked into my office and Amber was at my desk typing on the computer.

“You are late,” she said, not looking up.

I defended myself. “I had to wait for three hours before seeing Ms. Wilson.”

“I just talked to Taylor. She said you left a little after 1:30,” she countered, still not looking up. “It doesn’t take forty-five minutes to walk a few blocks.”

Her tone was like my mother’s when I came home past curfew, I explained, “I was starving, so I got a bite to eat.”

“Well, lucky you have me to run your store while you have lunch,” she said, finally looking at me.

“I don’t have to defend myself to you,” I retorted, my anger again beginning to bubble as she clearly knew exactly how to push my buttons.

“Sit down, Cassie,” Amber ordered, her tone firm.

“I will not,” I said, standing my ground.

“Sit the fuck down this very second,” Amber demanded.

I don’t know why but I obeyed, suddenly scared of her.

“Now was that so fucking difficult?” Amber questioned like I was a child.

I wanted to snap, but held in my anger, as I ignored the question and asked, “So what now?”

Looking down, I suddenly noticed something I hadn’t until now. I gasped as I noticed a pair of heels, of course five inches, poking out from underneath the desk. I said, each word dripping with venom, “There is someone under MY desk.”

Her tone not changing, as if such an observation was obvious, “Yes, it is Sophia, she is actually a pretty good FULL service employee, although it took a fair amount of training.”

I didn’t know what to say as I sat there speechless from the revelation that my best friend and secretary was under my desk assumedly pleasuring Amber’s vagina.

“Would you like Sophia to lick you?” Amber asked, her smile so frustrating I wanted to slap it right off your face.

“This has got to stop,” I said, before adding, “Now.”

“I agree,” she replied.

“Good,” I said thinking she understood the conviction in my tone.

“Let’s make something perfectly clear, Cassie. I am in charge here, not you. You do as I say. You signed away your rights to decision making when you signed the papers last week,” she informed me.

“That is ludicrous,” I replied, suddenly petrified she may not be bluffing.

“No what is ludicrous is you almost ran this store into the ground with your ineptitude,” she retorted, suddenly letting out a moan. She smiled while she mocked an apology, “Sophia has gotten quite good at this since I added it to her employment duties during your weekend getaway.”

“Sophia come out from under that desk this very second,” I ordered.

Amber smiled, staring at me, “Yes, go ahead Sophia do whatever you wish. You can crawl out from under the desk and you will never have the privilege of tasting me again or you can stay under MY desk where you belong as my personal cunt licker.”

I assumed Sophia would leave, yet I should have known better. Amber had a power I couldn’t quite understand, but it seemed to work on many women.

Yet Sophia didn’t crawl out from under the desk.

Amber continued staring at me as she asked, “Sophia, where do you belong?”

There was a brief pause before I heard the unmistakable voice of my best friend, “Between your legs, Mistress.”

The word ‘Mistress’ shocked me even more than the rest of the answer, my mind suddenly recalling the recurring dreams of Amber being my Mistress. Sophia was happily married, she had never even considered being with a woman before, like myself, and yet there she was under my desk pleasing a relative stranger, it just made no sense.

“Will you lick Cassie’s cunt if I tell you to?” Amber asked, her smug smile driving me mad.

“Yes, Mistress,” Sophia replied, without hesitation.

“Now back to the three keys of success I was telling you about on Friday,” Amber continued.

I stared at her in a daze, still unable to comprehend what was really happening, it was so surreal.

“Number one is dress for success, number two is control your own destiny,” she continued.

“I have done that for years,” I retorted, proud of being the sole owner for all these years.

“Yes, you did,” she said, implying past tense.

“What are you saying?” I asked, annoyed.

“Well you gave up your destiny and created a new one once you gave me control,” she explained.

“I did not,” I said.

“Really?” she asked, rolling the chair back. “Sophia, go grab the contract.”

“Yes, Ms. Amber,” Sophia replied, from under the desk. A moment later she emerged her face clearly wet as she avoided eye contact with me.

As Sophia left the office, my head spinning with confusion, Amber continued, “And then there is number three. Employees must know who is boss and obey without hesitation.”

“But you have made Sophia a sex slave,” I said, the words out of my mouth unbelievable.

“That is one way to look at it, I look at it another way,” the bitch shrugged.

“And what would that be?” I asked sarcastically.

Ignoring my sarcasm, she explained, “I just redefined her job description.”

“Are you serious?” I laughed the response so absurd.

“I understand people, Cassie,” she continued, “and I knew as soon as I met Sophia that she was submissive and needed someone to guide her in her journey to self-discovery.”

“By making her pleasure you?” I scoffed.

Again ignoring my response, “Just like I know what you need.”

“Is that so?” I again replied sarcastically.

Before she could reveal her brilliant psychological assessment of me, Sophia returned with the contract.

“Page 12, section 9, subsection 3b,” Amber said as I flipped through the contract.

I glanced up to see Sophia, without instruction, return to her knees and crawl back under the desk. I instantly wondered how it happened, and a chill went up my spine as I felt a tingle in my pussy. I shook my head as I flipped to the page.

“Good girl,” Amber purred, as she rolled the chair back in position.

I read the contract piece and gasped.

9.3.b. All business decisions from now hereafter must be decided by Ms. Amber.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, wondering how I missed that during my quick scan of the document last week.

“Of course I am serious. When I am hired, I take control of every aspect of the business,” she explained.

“But I am the owner,” I said.

“Yes, I let you keep that title,” she smiled, before adding, “Now Cassie, go to Sophia’s desk and answer the phones while I continue to run your business,” Amber ordered.

“Excuse me?” I questioned, stunned by her expectations yet again.

“Unless you want to replace Sophia under my desk,” she smirked, before adding, “Although I assume that is where you will end up since you are submissive just like her.”

“I’m submissive now?” I retorted, knowing of all the things I was, submissive wasn’t one of them.

“You are the prototype of a submissive,” she assessed.

“How so?” I asked, curious to hear her absurd logic to this absurd conversation.

“You have spent your whole life using your business as a facade to hide what you really need,” Amber explained.

“Are you kidding…” I began, but was shot down.

“Don’t interrupt me when I am talking, Cassie,” she snapped. “Now as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Cassie you hide behind your work, you spend so much time and energy in making it successful that you need your brain to be allowed to go into neutral when not at work. You NEED to be told what to do.”

I waited to make sure she was done, which I suppose was a submissive act, before saying, “I disagree completely.”

“Of course you do, you are in denial,” Amber continued. “Such a cold harsh reality is hard to accept, but lucky for you I am here to help you accept it.”

“Oh, lucky me,” I sarcastically shot back.

“When was the last time you were sexually satisfied?” she asked.

Infuriated, I stood up and said, “I want you out of my office now.”

She laughed. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Now!” I ordered, standing firm.

She stood up and her skirt fell back down as she moved towards me. “You are fucking stupid, aren’t you, Cassie,” Amber shot back condescendingly, “this isn’t your office anymore, it is MY fucking office. Now get your fucking ass out of MY office and just be happy I am letting you to be my secretary.”

“No,” I answered; even though I was scared, she would hit me.

I looked up at her as she towered over me. “I am counting to three for you to get your fucking ass out of MY office and do as you’re told before I punish you.”

Her tone sent a cold chill up my spine as her icy glare bore into me. Even though I wanted to fight back, to stand up for myself, to prove her wrong and to help Sophia, I felt my body start towards the door.

“Good girl,” she purred, the condescending tone dripping like melted wax.

My face went even redder with frustrated anger, but I just kept walking out of my office and to the secretary’s desk to have time to think about my next action.

As soon as I sat down the phone rang. I paused a second before picking up the phone. Of course, it was for Amber. I sighed and said, “Please wait a moment.”

I walked back into my office and Amber glared, “Knock before entering my office, Cassie.”

I began to speak, but she again interrupted me, “No, get out and see if you can do it right.”

My anger was burning inside me, but again did as I was told. I exited MY office and then knocked on MY door.

“Yes, come in,” Amber called out all cheery which somehow made me angrier.

I re-entered my office and said, “There is a phone call on line two for you.”

“Better,” she said, again behind MY desk and Sophia’s heels still under MY desk. “But, you must address me properly.”

There was no way I was going to call her Mistress.

She continued, “As Ms. Amber.”

I sighed, loud enough to show my annoyance, yet I again conformed to her expectations, “There is a phone call on line two for you, Ms. Amber.”

“Thank you,” she smiled back, “you may return to YOUR desk, Cassie.”

I turned and left imagining I was Yosemite Sam after he would lose to Bugs Bunny as I cursed in my head a bunch of mumbo jumbo, ‘frickin’ frackin’.

Back at Sophia’s desk, I stewed as I pondered a way out of my seemingly legally binding situation. I couldn’t afford a lawyer and I imagine she probably had one already in her pocket, or pussy for that matter. Suddenly without even realizing I was thinking it, I imagined myself under the desk and between her legs. Just as quickly as the thought popped into my head, I pushed it out. What was becoming of me? Why couldn’t I stand up to her?

I looked up at the different video monitor screens that showed the whole store. The store was swamped and I just couldn’t fathom how she could make such a drastic turn around in one week. Was Taylor Wilson that popular to infuse that much business so quickly? No, there had to be more to it than that. Also, although she had clearly hired a few strikingly beautiful women as employees, this was a bridal shop and not a place where sex sells. As I scanned the screens there were probably only three men among the fifty plus customers looking at the merchandise for sale. Also, none of the merchandise was different. Somehow she had made my store hip, the more I scanned the screens the more I realized that the majority of women in my shop were under thirty. A million questions and no concrete answers popped into my head as I tried to balance my happiness with the sudden success of my shop to the anger at the treatment and utter disrespect Amber had for me and Sophia.

“Fuuuuck, yes, drink my come,” Amber screamed, assumedly for my benefit, as she assumedly came from Sophia’s tongue.

A minute later, Sophia finally came out of MY office and asked, her face shiny with Amber’s pussy juice, shocking me as she asked, “Do you want your cunt licked, Cassie?”

“What? Sophia, what has happened to you?” I asked.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Sophia replied, her eyes and tone apologetic.

“Well, start at the beginning,” I suggested.

“Not here,” Sophia said, glancing towards the door. “I need to go home; I haven’t been home since Friday morning before leaving that afternoon to go to Paris with Ms. Amber.”

“Ok,” I said, “but I really need to know what is going on here.”

“I know,” Sophia nodded. “I still need time to come to grips with it too.”

“Call me when you have time to talk,” I said.

“Ok,” she nodded before leaving me with even more questions.

The next two hours I did secretarial duties much to my own dismay. I answered phones, I addressed Amber as she expected and I organized a plethora of new files that were on Sophia’s desk.

It was almost five when Amber finally came out of the office. Her first words to me were, “Did you take Sophia up on her offer to eat your cunt?”

“What? No,” I said, appalled by the question.

“You should have, she is a natural,” Amber said, smiling, before adding, “I gave Sophia tomorrow and Wednesday off since she worked very hard long hours over the weekend. I will need you to take over her secretarial duties while she is gone.”

“Fine,” I said, my tone implying it wasn’t remotely fine.

“Great, I take my coffee with two sugar and one cream,” Amber said, as she continued out of the office, before stopping at the stairs and adding, “Dress in one of the other outfits I picked out for you tomorrow for your training, Cassie.”

“My training?” I asked.

“Yes your training,” she sighed clearly annoyed. “Now please go, I have to finish the contract with the French designer Willington for him to sign before I leave.” Leaving before I could ask any more questions, but her tone and smile were both very ominous.

I sighed again, it was becoming part of my reaction to almost every word Amber said, as I logged off the computer and went to go in my office. I was surprised to learn it was locked. I grabbed my key and learned not only was it locked; she had obviously had the locks changed. They were not changed yesterday when I came in, so when in the hell did she have time to change them? Frustrated, I cursed and headed out, taking a copy of the contract with me intending on finding a loophole to this absurd contract.

That night, I went through every word of the contract with a fine tooth comb but came up with no loophole, no escape clause. I couldn’t even fire her for six months based on the disclaimer I somehow missed.

I tried calling Sophia all night but never got an answer which only increased my frustration and anxiety. Eventually past exhaustion, I crawled into bed hoping I wouldn’t dream.

“Who owns you?” Amber asked, as I sat on the floor of my office naked except for the heels she insisted I keep on.

“You do, Mistress,” I answered embarrassed by my need to obey.

“And what will you do to please me?” she questioned.

“Whatever you want,” I replied.

She too was naked, except for thigh high stockings and black boots. “So you will eat my cunt?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I answered.

“Eat Sophia’s cunt?” she questioned and suddenly Sophia was in the office too, naked and legs spread wide open on my desk.

The question was ludicrous and the answer obviously no, yet the words out of my mouth were, “Yes, Mistress, I would eat Sophia’s cunt.”

“And you would rim her ass?” Amber added.

I had never even remotely considered such a disgusting act, yet I had also never considered lesbian sex before, and again my words were out of character, “Of course, Mistress, I would love to rim Sophia’s ass.”

“Good girl,” Amber purred. “Now go and get Sophia off, today you are her pet. Sophia tell slut Cassie what you want.”

Shy, quiet Sophia stunned me as she demanded, “Get your ass over here and lick my cunt, slut.”

Dazed, yet surprisingly wet, I crawled over to my desk and buried my face in Sophia’s hairy cunt. Her scent was incredibly strong. As soon as I began licking, she grabbed my head, began rubbing her pussy up and down on my face as she said, “I have wanted to fuck your face and make you mine for years, Cassie.”

I jolted awake. My hand was in my panties. Instead of stopping though, I quickly rubbed myself to release an orgasm to close to just to let it go. Seconds later, I came hard, my head spinning at the thought that now Sophia, my best friend, was in my sex dreams. Desperate to control these feelings, I decided that I may have to call my psychologist Mrs. Carter who I had seen in the past.

6. MY TRAINING BEGINS

I got dressed, purposely not wearing one of the outfits Amber had recommended, deciding it was time to start making a clear statement.

I left a rather frantic message at Mrs. Carter’s office, before heading to work hoping to get to my office before she did. I arrived a couple of hours before Amber, but forgot that the locks had been changed. I cursed Amber and ended up working at Sophia’s desk doing the duties she usually did and Amber arrived just after ten.

“Good morning, Cassie,” Amber greeted, dressed perfectly in a brown dress with mocha pantyhose and, of course, five inch heels. Nicole was with her also dressed fashionably.

“Good morning, Amber,” I greeted back.

“It’s Ms. Amber, Cassie,” Amber said, her tone shifting from sweet to annoyed instantly.

“It’s Cassandra, Amber,” I countered, standing up, two being able to play this game.

“In my office,” Amber ordered, as she unlocked the door. “Nicole please cover Cassie’s desk.”

“Of course, Amber,” Nicole agreed.

“Follow me,” Amber ordered.

I followed her, ready to confront her once and for all.

“Close the door,” Amber demanded, as she went to MY desk.

I again did as told, agreeing this conversation was best between just the two of us.

As had become her trademark, she slipped out of her heels and put her feet onto MY desk. I noticed, that with her dress rising that she wasn’t wearing pantyhose but thigh high stockings or garter belt and stockings. I shouldn’t have cared, but my mind instantly flashed to my past wet dreams. I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind as I walked to my desk. Yet, instead of standing up to her, I opened with, “So what is your long term plan for my store.”

“Sit down, Cassie,” she ordered.

“I’ll stand.”

“Sit!” she repeated, her voice unwavering.

Already feeling my earlier determination fading, as I again eventually obeyed an order of hers.

Smiling now, she answered, “Well, now that the rebranding is already under way, the next key point is training you.”

“Training me how?” I asked, unaware of the sexual implication she was implying.

“As my pet,” she answered, rather matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?” I questioned, shocked even though after all the foreshadowing.

“I have always wanted an older pet,” she continued.

“This is getting silly,” I sighed.

“Agreed,” Amber sighed right back. “You like my legs and feet I see.”

“What?” I asked, pulling my eyes away from her stocking-clad feet.

“Stop pretending,” Amber smiled, “It is obvious that you want to be exactly where Sophia was on Friday, massaging my feet.”

“I do not,” I adamantly protested.

She chuckled, “Oh stop this vague act of propriety, I can see right through you, my pet.”

The words ‘my pet’ lingered in the air and regardless of my own mental denial, my body betrayed me as my panties dampened.

“And why are you not dressed as I instructed?” Amber questioned, as if I was a child and she the adult, as she took her feet off the desk and stood up.

My face was red as I tried to stay dignified, “Because I am quite capable of choosing my own clothes and deciding what I will wear.”

She walked around and sat on the desk directly in front of me, crossing her legs so her nylon-clad toes of her left foot were dangling inches from me. “I disagree completely, Cassie,” she said, “you are a fashion disaster, just like your store before I arrived and saved it.” She paused, slowly swinging her foot towards me, before adding, “now I must save you.”

“From what?” I scoffed, even though I was curious what she thought she was saving me from, as I continued to be distracted from Amber’s toes so close to me. I don’t know why but I wanted to massage her feet like she accused me of wanting me to do, I wanted to kiss her toes, it was absurd, but true.

“From yourself, of course,” Amber laughed.

I laughed back, asking sarcastically, “Am I a hazard to myself?”

“That is one way of putting it,” she smiled, moving the sole of her foot to my lips. “Go ahead. Lick, my foot pet.”

Her voice was shockingly soothing and although what she was asking was absurd and demeaning, it actually seemed a natural progression. I opened my mouth and was about to extend my tongue when I caught myself.

She laughed, “You are a stubborn one, Cassie. I can see your internal struggle between giving in to your carnal desires that are building inside you and acting like the proper lady you have convinced yourself you are.”

I began to stand up, knowing I was already losing this power struggle, when she ordered, her voice suddenly stern, “Sit back down, Cassie.”

I froze, “But….”

“But nothing” she interrupted, “we are not done here. Actually we have barely got started.”

For some unexplainable reason, I obeyed, sitting back down, sensing a shift in myself and my ability to stand up for myself. Her words, although harsh, somehow seemed necessary, like I had to obey. I couldn’t explain it at all, it refuted logic, yet it was the feelings I was having.

Her tone instantly shifted from stern to soft, although tinged with confidence, she purred, “Good girl, Cassie.”

I weakly fought back, “Please let’s treat each other with respect.”

“Let’s start by clarifying my expectations,” Amber said, her foot now resting on my leg. “How do you address me?”

I sighed, not as dramatically as before and also not for the same reason. Before it was out of irritability of her arrogance, this time it was out of my weakness and acceptance of the power shift I had lost control of completely. “Ms. Amber.”

“Good girl, Cassie,” she rewarded, her tone so condescending that it should have had me wanting to smack her in the face, yet instead it warmed me to know I had made her happy and I couldn’t deny my panties were sopping wet.

“And who is in charge of this store?” Amber questioned.

“Ms. Amber,” I admitted, lowering my eyes away from her.

“Look at me when you speak, my pet,” Amber ordered.

“S-s-sorry,” I stammered, looking up and into her eyes.

“Good girl,” she purred, again her soft tone soothed me when it should have infuriated me.

Amber put her stocking foot to my mouth, her toes on my lips and said, “Go ahead, Cassie, suck my toes.”

I knew I shouldn’t. I knew it as soon as I obeyed any sort of sexual order no matter how small I was done. Luckily, I refrained from the temptation, although I could feel my panties getting damp.

“You are a stubborn mule,” Amber said amused. “So back to disobeying me with your clothing choice.”

I shrugged, her toes still on my lips. Moving my head, I answered, trying to be strong, “Like I said before, I am quite capable of making my own choices.”

“Anyone is capable of such choices, yet very few are competent at doing it,” Amber responded, shoving her stocking-clad toes into my open mouth. “Now suck your Mistress’s toes,” she demanded, my mouth full of her foot.

The word ‘Mistress’ had a similar impact as it did in my dreams, sending instant shock waves of submission through my entire being. I had heard Sophia call Amber mistress and had promised myself I would never repeat the submissive word, the word that officially separated her and I. Yet, instead of moving away like I should have done, I obeyed, sucking on her perfectly manicured toes as best I could.

“About time,” Amber said, her tone clearly amused at my obedience.

Again, part of me wanted to stand up and leave, screw the consequences of my business possibly failing, yet a growing part of me was so overwhelmed by her power, by her beauty, that I was frozen in place obeying her ludicrous orders and eagerly looking forward to the next one.

I had sucked each of her toes awkwardly when she pulled her foot away and uncrossed her legs, which gave me a brief look at her panty less pussy the confirmation that she was wearing a garter belt to hold up her stockings.

She caught my glance up her skirt and chuckled, “All in good time my hungry little pet.”

Humiliation burned through me as I had been caught staring at her pussy. Yet, even as I was caught, I didn’t avert my eyes from the tiny gateway to Amber’s pussy.

She crossed her legs, her pussy vanishing from view and put her other nylon-clad foot in front of me. This time she didn’t put it in my mouth, instead allowing it to linger there, the expectation unspoken but clear.

I knew this was a test, one more power play, but feeling completely defeated and at the whim of this young, beautiful, powerful woman I did as she expected, leaning forward and taking her pinky toe into my mouth. Having more control this time, I pleasured each individual toe as best I could, the silky nylon a barrier.

“Hmmm, you are an eager little pet,” Ms. Amber purred, which only compounded both the excitement and the humiliation of my current predicament.

Once I had finished pleasuring the big toe, I found myself moving to the soul of her foot, kissing every inch of her stocking-clad foot. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I was.

“Are you ready to start your training, slut?” Ms. Amber asked, being called a ‘slut’ was like getting a bucket of cold water poured on me, instantly reality set in.

“I-I-I am not a slut,” I defiantly retorted.

“You go from guy to guy quicker than Lindsay Lohan ends up in court,” Amber quipped.

“I do not,” I protested, although I did go through guys rather quickly.

“So pet is ok, but slut is insulting?” Amber questioned.

“Neither is ok,” I countered, although I knew where she was going with this.

“Stand up,” she ordered.

Without hesitation I did and then cursed to myself for obeying her command.

“A pencil skirt, are you serious?” Amber condemned, standing up, before adding, “Although you wore the five-inch heels. You really couldn’t decide whether you should stand up to me, or bow down to me, could you?”

“Can we get back to business?” I asked, trying to change the subject, even as my pussy burned with an insatiable hunger I don’t ever recall feeling.

“This is business,” Amber replied, before adding, “You need to be punished for disobeying me, Cassie and continually questioning my authority.”

“This is…,” I began but was harshly stopped.

“Shut up,” Amber snapped. “Take off your skirt now.”

“What?” I asked.

“Take off your fucking skirt this second,” Amber demanded.

Her glare and ice cold tone startled me and I again obeyed as I unzipped my skirt and allowed it to drop to the floor.

“Good girl,” Amber again purred, her tone instantly soft again, “you may make a good pet yet.”

Again her implication was smug and yet my head flashed to all my strange wet dreams I had over the past week.

“We obviously need to get you some new underwear or have you go commando,” Amber said, looking at my full brief panties. “Sluts like you should dress like sluts underneath their business attire.”

I again repeated, “I am not a slut.”

“Sorry,” she laughed, “Lesbian pets like you should dress like sluts underneath their business attire.”

“Please stop,” I weakly protested, even as my pussy betrayed me my leaking into my panties and my head flashed to her shaved pussy I had got a brief glimpse of earlier.

“Begging, I like that,” Amber smirked, before ordering her tone again implying this was not a negotiation, “Take off your blouse.”

My hands trembled as I began to unbutton my blouse. Once unbuttoned, I paused, uncomfortable with taking it off, which was absurd since I was already just in my pantyhose and panties.

“You really like being told what to do, don’t you,” Amber smirked. “Take off your fucking blouse, Cassie, let’s see those big tits of yours.”

Oddly, her calling my tits big flattered me, being the first time she had given me a compliment, and I again obeyed, revealing my large 38D breasts held up in a comfortable sports bra.

“A sports bra?” Amber scoffed, “You really have no idea how to dress, do you? We really are going to have to do a complete wardrobe makeover.”

“It supports my breasts,” I defended.

“You mean your tits,” Amber corrected, “Sluts, pets, lesbian slaves have tits or maybe in your case udders depending on how firm they still are at your advanced age.”

Again her words were meant to belittle and humiliate, yet I took great pride in my breasts and how well they had held up over the years due to my vigorous workout routine. I responded, “My tits are still very firm, Mist…Ms. Amber.” I caught myself at the last minute from saying Mistress, but Amber had obviously caught it.

“Still a little fight in you, my pet,” she smiled, clearly enjoying the slow deterioration of my stubbornness and pride.

Amber finally stood up from the desk and walked over to me just as the phone rang.

“Please get that slut,” she ordered, moving to her desk.

Half naked, humiliated and horny, I walked to the desk and reached for the phone. I answered it and said, “Yes, she is in, please wait a moment.” Pressing hold on the phone, I handed it to Ms. Amber as she sat down behind the desk. “It is for you, Ms. Amber.”

“Thank you, Cassie,” she replied, so politely like I would do when Sophia would have told me I had a call.

Taking the phone, she said, “Good morning. Oh hi, darling…lunch today?…Sure I can make it…” As she continued chatting, she snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground in front of her.

I stared at her, understanding what she expected of me, yet unable to obey.

“Just a minute, Angela, my secretary is fucking too stupid to understand a simple order,” Amber said, before turning to me not covering up the mouth piece.

“Cassie, get on your fucking knees like a good pet and crawl to me now,” she ordered.

Again her tone had the power to weaken every ounce of resistance I seemed to occasionally muster and I felt myself lowering to the ground in MY office, and then crawling to MY desk. Once I arrived, she instructed, “Massage my feet.”

I obeyed as she returned to the phone. “Sorry about that. My new secretary needs some work….I know watching them come to grips with their new position is entertaining…what, a party this weekend?…sure, she should be trained by then…for the whole weekend?…why not, it is not like she has a life…sounds good, we will make arrangements at lunch. Ciao.”

As I heard her talking assumedly about me, my face went white. Was she planning to have me serve other people? I continued massaging her foot as I tried to understand why I was allowing this to happen.

Looking down at me, Ms. Amber said, “Look Cassie, I need to get to work soon and continue to save and rebuild the business you managed to run into the ground so I am done with this whole act of pretending you are not a cunt-licking, submissive slave to me.”

Her words were so powerful and confident, I couldn’t even begin to know how to respond, and instead I just continued massaging her foot.

“Are you wet?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered almost inaudibly, again avoiding eye contact.

“Look at me when you speak to me slut,” she demanded, her tone implying a clear annoyance with me.

Looking up at her smirking smile, I stammered, “Y-y-yes, Ms. Amber.”

“Why?” she asked, knowingly.

“I don’t know,” I answered, which was as honest an answer I had. I had no idea why I was obeying her; I had no idea why obeying her had my pussy juice leaking out of me. I had no idea why ever since I met her I had suddenly started having dreams of submission, dreams of being a lesbian.

“Yes you do,” she said, “Tell me what you want right now.”

I wanted so many things, each contradicting the other. I wanted my desk back, yet I wanted to crawl underneath it and pleasure Amber just like Sophia had. I wanted to stand up and demand respect, yet I also wanted to be on my knees and being told what to do. I hated everything Amber stood for and yet I craved submission to her all the same. Yet, again I avoided an answer. “I don’t know.”

“Answer my question now, Cassie, or I walk out of here forever,” Amber threatened, even as she repositioned her legs opening up her tunnel to submission.

Seeing her pussy again beckoning me in, any last resolve, any last second determination washed away as I finally admitted what my body had long ago accepted. “I want to please you.”

“How?” she asked, opening her legs wider and giving me a clear look at her shaved pussy and its slight shine.

“By licking you,” I admitted, the words seeming so natural and yet so absurd.

“Be specific, slut,” Amber demanded, clearly impatient with me.

“I want to lick your pussy, Ms. Amber,” I reworded.

“You mean my cunt?” Amber asked.

“Yes, Ms. Amber, I want to lick your cunt,” I repeated, getting frustrated with myself suddenly wanting nothing else than to actually taste her…her scent lingering heavenly but her cunt was just out of reach.

“You understand that once you taste my cunt I own you,” Ms. Amber added, pushing me further into the web of her sin.

“W-w-what does that mean?” I stammered, even though I knew no matter what her answer was I was destined to submit to her.

“You obey every order I ever give. You please who I tell you to please. Your mouth, cunt and ass, yes ass, are mine to use or share as I please,” she clarified.

Her declaration should have mortified me, or at the very least had me having second thoughts, but my hunger to submit, my desire to taste her, the fire in my pussy, no my cunt, had me only thinking submission.

“Are you ready for such unconditional submission,” she asked, as she rolled her chair a couple inches to me, so I was now between her legs and her pussy was inches from me.

I didn’t hesitate, my eyes and mind transfixed on her cunt as I finally said the words my body had been craving, “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl,” she purred, before adding, using my last name for the first time ever, “Go ahead, Ms. Williams, become my slave. One lick and you are mine.”

The use of my last name was clearly another power play as she wanted to remind me of the position of power I used to have, yet I was long past caring about names anymore. I repositioned myself the few inches needed to be directly between her thigh high stocking legs and now my face was directly in front of her pussy. Her scent was strong and appealing and drew me in as I opened my mouth, extended my tongue, and became a slave.

Her taste was better than I could have imagined as I slowly licked her wet pussy lips. Like giving head to a guy, I instantly enjoyed licking pussy knowing her wetness, her moans, were because of me. Unlike this whole situation, where I had no control and was completely at the whim of this young twenty-five year old, as I licked her pussy I was in control of when she came.

“Hmmmm, you are a natural, my pet slut,” Ms. Amber purred, which somehow only enhanced my eagerness to please. As she got wetter and her moans began to increase, I began to flick her swollen clit which is what always got me off when a man was between my legs. Her legs twitched with each flick until she grabbed my head and began rubbing her cunt all over my face as she said, “You fucking tease, get me off now.”

I struggled to lick her while I drowned in her wetness which a few seconds later was a river of wetness as she came. “Fuuuuuuuck, I’m comiiiiiiing my peeeeeeeet.”

Her cum was like wine as I savored every last drop of her sweetness. Finally, she let go and looking down at me she asked, seemingly surprised, “And you have never done that before?”

“No, Mistress,” I admitted, feeling a glow of pride at the fact that I had obviously pleased her.

“Well, you are a quick learner,” she approved, as she regained her breath.

I watched from my submissive position on my knees, on the floor, while she closed her eyes and allowed the last remnants of her orgasm to shiver through her. My own desire to cum burning inside me stuck on hold.

Finally, she opened her eyes and said, “Get naked slave.”

I didn’t hesitate, the thought of her pleasuring me making my panties even wetter. I stood up and quickly discarded by bra, yanked down my pantyhose and pulled off my panties revealing my recently Brazilian hairless pussy.

Ms. Amber stood up and slipped back into her heels before going to a file cabinet and pulling out a strange whip like contraption and a bottle. “Back on all fours, my pet, it is time to really make you a dirty slut whore.”

I obeyed, suddenly very nervous of what she had planned for me. On all fours I felt her hands on my ass and then warm liquid poured between my ass cheeks. My eyes went big as other than a couple failed anal attempts while drunk, I was rather an anal virgin.

“I wouldn’t tighten your ass up that will only make it worse, my pet,” Amber explained, before adding, “Just relax.”

“Are you ready to be my real pet?” Ms. Amber asked.

I didn’t want to be sodomized, yet I wanted to continue to please her as I responded, “Yes, Mistress Amber, I am ready to be your pet.”

“Well, most pets have tails don’t they?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress,” I agreed, suddenly understanding exactly what she had intended for me.

“Now just relax this will sting a bit,” she advised.

I tried to relax, but it was rather hard as I felt the toy now rubbing between my ass cheeks before stopping right at my rosebud.

“Bark for me, my pet,” Ms. Amber ordered, adding to the humiliation.

“Woof,” I barked and then whimpered as she pushed forward sliding the well lubricated plug slowly into my ass.

“That’s it puppy,” Ms. Amber calmly soothed.

The pain in my ass burned and yet somehow soothed at the same time.

A moment later, she stood up and announced, “All in. Now chase your tail, puppy-slut.”

I thought she was kidding, until I felt a slap on my ass. Eyes wide, I began crawling in circles trying to make the impossible possible, all the while she laughed. A minute later, she ordered, “Now sit up and beg like a good puppy.”

I again obeyed, my shame reaching new depths, and as I looked up I saw her phone pointing directly at me. Speaking to me like I was a real puppy she said, “Good puppy, does puppy want a treat?”

I couldn’t believe my response. I woofed.

She went to the intercom, while trying to stifle her laughter, and paged over the intercom, “Nicole please come into my office please.”

My eyes went wide.

Ms. Amber said, “What? Puppy wants a treat and puppy is going to get a treat. While I am gone, you are not to get off all fours is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I agreed.

“I will have Nicole get you some water and food,” she added.

“But she is one of my employees,” I protested.

“Yes she is,” Amber agreed.

“I can’t have her see me like this,” I tried to reason.

“Oh don’t worry,” Amber waved off my objections, “they don’t have to respect you to work here.”

“But I spent the past almost twenty years building a family atmosphere,” I countered.

“And you were almost bankrupt,” she refuted.

Before I could continue my reasoning there was a knock on the door.

Amber winked and called out, “Come in.”

Nicole entered the office. “You called for me, Ms. Amber?”

“Yes, Nicole, you see my pet there,” Amber said, pointing down at me.

Nicole looked down at me with an amused look on her face. “Yes, Ms. Amber.”

“Well, she needs fresh water. There is a dog bowl in the top filing cabinet, could you please fill it up for our pet,” Amber instructed.

“Of course,” Nicole agreed, her look of amusement turning into a knowing smirk, as she went to the file cabinet and grabbed a dog dish.

As Nicole left the office, Ms. Amber said, “Oh, and while I am gone you are to obey any order Nicole gives you, is that clear?”

“Y-y-yes, Ms. Amber,” I weakly agreed.

“Oh and one more thing my pet, don’t you dare come until I get back,” Ms. Amber warned.

“Yes, Mistress,” I agreed, even though I knew it would take literally seconds to get off if I touched myself.

Amber left and a second later Nicole returned with the dog bowl and put it on the floor in the corner. As I looked at it, I gasped as I read the name on the bowl: Ms. Williams.

Nicole who was so sweet this weekend, said, her treatment of me shifting completely, “Is puppy hungry?”

I turned around and saw she was on the couch, her skirt had already been discarded and she too was wearing a garter belt and stockings. My head was spinning. It was one thing to be humiliated by Ms. Amber, but completely another to have one of my new employees treat me with such disrespect. Yet, as she opened her legs, my mouth began to water.

“Come here, puppy,” she said, patting her legs like I was a real dog.

“But you are my employee,” I protested.

“And you are on all fours with a butt plug tail in your ass,” she countered.

“But…” I began.

“Do you want some pussy or not?” she asked, having the same lack of patience that Ms. Amber had.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Well, then get over here,” she instructed, “I have a conference call in fifteen minutes.”

Humiliated, but craving more pussy, I crawled over to her. Once between her legs I was surprised to see that unlike Ms. Amber, she had a full bush of red hair just above her pussy lips.

“Go ahead,” she offered, “it is obvious you want to.”

I moved forward extended my tongue and began licking tentatively. After all the strange dreams, and the flashes of submission during the verbal humiliation of Amber and licking her, I was suddenly eager to taste another pussy. Nicole’s wetness was like a firecracker that ignited my taste buds causing a flavour explosion in my mouth. I slowly licked between her pussy lips, her wetness slowly leaking out the longer I lapped up and down. Her moans increased slowly as I continued licking, forgetting completely that I was the boss and she my employee.

“That’s it, you are a natural Cassie,” she moaned a couple of minutes into my pleasing her.

Somehow the compliment only enhanced my eagerness to please her, to get her off, to taste her full explosion of cum. I began to move my head right and left, flicking over her clit, like I remember some sexy Italian hunk did to me in a hotel in Venice a couple of years ago that really got me off. It seemed to have a similar effect on Nicole as her breathing got heavier and she demanded, “Faster, slut, faster.”

Being called a slut didn’t faze me this time instead, it actually seemed to excite me, I obeyed her demand and was soon rewarded with a mouthful of her pussy juice as she came all over me. I licked and licked hungry for more of her juice.

A minute later she pushed me away as she said, “Stop, I have to pee.”

She stood up and disappeared into the bathroom while I sat on the floor dazed and confused at how I had so easily submitted to Nicole.

After she was done in the washroom, Nicole walked out of the office, leaving me alone. I waited a few minutes before deciding that sitting on the floor of MY office was absurd. I stood up and went to MY desk. I pilfered through MY computer searching all the work Amber had been doing in my absence. I was stunned at the distribution changes and the wholesale cost prices she received, almost twice as low as the prices I had been receiving from suppliers. Over the next hour, I perused all the new files on my computer and was in the midst of reading her rather ambitious expansion plan when she returned from lunch.

“You got to be fucking kidding me,” she said, slamming the door, each word sharp as knives.

I looked up and saw her glare.

“I give you one simple fucking order and you can’t even obey that,” she said, shaking her head.

Ignoring her anger, I asked, “You want to expand to Beverly Hills?”

Walking towards me, she said, her tone surprisingly softer, “No I am, expanding to Beverly Hills, I already got a location set-up.”

“How?” I asked, such a reversal of fortunes unprecedented.

“That is what I do,” she shrugged, before asking, “Can I ask why you are at my desk and not on the floor like you are supposed to be?”

“Amber, I need to be informed with any major changes you are making to my business,” I said, trying to sound strong and firm.

“Well, right now I am working on a major restructuring,” she said.

“I didn’t read about that,” I said, not catching on.

“Back on the floor, Cassie,” she demanded, “I see you are a rather slow learner.”

“But, we were talking business,” I protested.

“And know we will continue the restructuring of your business,” she smirked, before asking, “Did you enjoy Nicole’s cunt? It looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Please, Amber,” I said, trying to regain a bit of dignity after the earlier humiliation, although her last sentence alarmed me.

She snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor.

I sighed.

She pulled out her phone and turned it towards me, “Do you like my new security camera I got put in while you were gone?”

I stared at me, on my knees, between Nicole’s legs.

“I even got the cameras in high definition, pretty impressive hey?” she asked, clearly amused.

Defeated, I got off the chair and returned to the floor.

“Now for your punishment,” she said, going back to the filing cabinet.

She pulled out a dildo and I wondered what the hell else did she have in that filing cabinet? She moved to the wall near my water dish and put the dildo, which apparently had a suction cup, to the wall.

“And to think, I brought you lunch,” she said, tossing a Styrofoam container on the floor.

She returned to my desk and sat down, again slipping out of her heels. For the next twenty minutes, she worked on the computer not saying a word to me.

I looked at the dildo on the wall, the Styrofoam container and the water dish and realized she was testing me. She knew I was horny, she knew I was hungry and she wanted to see me break. Frustration again began to build as I tried to figure a way out of this continually more complex predicament. I also kept getting distracted by her toes that she wiggled freely on the floor as she worked.

“You must be starving,” Amber finally said. “I brought you my leftover salad, or if you would prefer you can have a snack between my legs.”

My face went red and burned with shame at the reality that as soon as she said the words I imagined myself doing just that.

“You want to eat my cunt again, don’t you, Cassie?” she teased.

I didn’t answer, as I tried to refuse the temptation to fall deeper into the depths of her web of submission.

“Just crawl like a good pet to me and get your treat,” she continued.

I wanted to resist, I wanted to stand up and slap her in the face, yet the thought of tasting her was already pulling me towards her.

Without a word, I crawled towards her and she rolled her chair back and allowed me to position myself under what used to be my desk, just like Sophia had done.

She chuckled, opening her legs to allow me a clear view of her perfectly shaved pussy, “Beg, to please your Mistress.”

Her pussy so tantalizing close to me, her scent lingering teasingly, I answered, giving in yet again unconditionally, “Please Mistress Amber, may I eat your cunt.”

“And are we going to have any more of these silly disobediences,” she asked.

“No, Mistress Amber,” I answered, suddenly feeling guilty for disobeying.

“Look closely at my cunt, slave,” she ordered.

I obeyed, my mouth watering.

“How bad do you want it?” she asked, rolling her chair away again.

“Soooooo bad,” I whimpered, my pussy tingling.

“Go fuck yourself on your new toy, my pet,” Amber ordered.

I looked up and saw her devilish smile.

I knew this was just another level of humiliation, I also knew that the camera would film me fucking myself like some two-bit whore, yet I crawled out from under the desk and over to the wall with the six-inch dildo.

“Back up slowly, my pet,” she instructed, as she put her legs on the desk and watched amused at my complete submission to her.

I could feel my pussy leak as I anticipated the cock in me. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see Amber watching me, as I slowly backed up. I felt the head of the cock hit my dog tail. I lifted my legs up a bit and the cock easily slipped inside my wanton pussy.

“Ohhhhh,” I moaned, the pleasure instantly tingling inside me.

“Now fuck yourself, slut,” Amber instructed.

I didn’t need any further instructions as I began bouncing back and forth on the plastic toy.

“Don’t you come without permission, Cassie,” Amber demanded, her voice closer.

I opened my eyes and saw she had walked over to me.

“Who owns you?” she asked, grabbing a chair.

“You doooooo,” I whimpered in admission.

“And who is in charge of this company?” she questioned, putting the chair directly in front of me.

“You arrrrrre, Ms. Amber,” I admitted, knowing I had lost and she had won.

Lifting up her skirt and sitting down on the chair, her pussy again so close to me, she asked, “What are you?”

I didn’t even hesitate, my desire to come overriding any last remnants of dignity or common sense, “Your slave, your pet, your slut.”

“You can come when I do, Cassie Williams,” she said, sliding down the chair until her pussy was in my face.

Hearing my name was one last reminder of who I was and how quickly I had fell, yet I didn’t care. I began licking eagerly wanting to get her off so I too could get off. I slowed down fucking myself, desperate to obey and not come yet as I continued licking. I licked for what seemed like an eternity of surreal near orgasmic bliss until her moans increased again and I did the same head turning clit tease I had with Nicole.

“Oh shit, slut, you are soooo good at this,” Amber moaned, before adding, “faster, faster, fuck, fuck, come with me, slut, come with me.”

I let go, began fucking myself furiously while my face bounced into her cunt with each forward movement and in seconds my orgasm shot through me with erotic precision just as Amber’s cascaded through her. My face was coated with cum as I continued to bounce back and forth onto the dildo and into her quivering pussy.

Finally spent, I fell forward into Amber’s pussy as the cock slipped out of my pussy and juices leaked out liberally.

Amber patted my head like a dog as she said, “You will make a very good pet, Cassie, a very good pet indeed.”

The words which would have been ludicrous and offensive a week ago were suddenly comforting. I looked up and woofed.

THE END

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