Formal office instructions..., a short story by Eliza. Date added: 2012-07-29. Times viewed: 9362.
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- Intro: Office sex, spanking, biting, preparing for the weekends...training
I am Giselle. I was out last Thursday night with a few friends, expecting a nice, quiet dinner, discussion of the weekends events, and on to what our plans were for the weekend.
This was our typical Friday evening ritual. Our boss, a man of about 60, thinning hair, rounding belly, who was married to the owner of the company had waited until this morning to call us into his office to inform us that he and his wife were going on a trip. In fact, they were leaving in exactly fifteen minutes.
He was sitting at his desk, however, he was presently seated in his straight back chair, far enough back that he could sit with his back slumped, his legs spread wide, and, yes, that was his foot tap, tap, tapping against a leg of his couch. His hands were in his lap.
The four of us, girls as our bosses laughingly called us, had jokingly wondered with one another if this was how he would sit, while alone, his zipper unzipped, his cock in his hand as he looked at those pornographic magazines 'they' thought that we did know about.
Cindy and I have been best friends since we were four, living directly across the street from one another. She lived in a much larger two story home on ten acres, a wonderful barn that never seemed to need to be cleaned, or painted, four beautiful mares and a very randy stallion. Of course, Cindy's mother was in charge of the home, which included the acreage, barn, and animals. Daddy was a Corporate Executive Officer, a wonderful man, when he was around, as he travelled a lot.
My home. A two story built of rock, yard, and our two and a half acre pasture, constantly needing weed control, five strand barbed wire fence still about half way around as I and my dad had been changing it to a beautiful wooden fence, for years, six feet at a time. At least, we worked on it whenever my mom did not have him doing what I have learned are her 'honey do's'.
We have a horse, she's been here since before we moved here. Mom's complaining that this will be her last foal because she's so old. I asked her one day in the kitchen if we would be getting a new mare so that we could have a foal every year. A nice young, healthy mare. Cindy's mom might consider letting their stallion breed our mare for nothing as long as she was also a papered arabian. I didn't mention that Cindy's mom always bred their mares so that they foaled around Thanksgiving. That way they could be ridden during summer vacation, she was our local 4-H leader. I also didn't mention that Cindy and I, even Cindy's brother Brad and I, had learned many fine things with a stallion to watch, servicing, his mares. Cindy's mom had explained to us, yes, I was over there so often she just considered me yet another child, she had told us that our bodies are made for reproducing, and that required procreation.
We were nine and Cindys mom told us that we were quite old enough to know exactly what those words meant. Children had been taught this with animals since time began. After all, Adam and Eve hadn't fenced the animals in, with a secure place to keep them from having sex where just anybody could watch.
She took us into the barn and watched as we were introduced to her newest mare. She was a beauty, solid black with a proud head. At three years old, she was 'ready' to be serviced, pregnant, and a mother. Cindy and I were looking at each other and saying, "she's 3'"? We hadn't thought anyone, or any animal, got pregnant till they were twelve or thirteen, when they had periods.
We were told that humans may be able to be one hundred but we can only have babies from about twelve or thirteen until we're in our fourties, which to us might as well have been, almost dead, we were only nine. Horses usually don't live to be more than thirty, so they have, and make babies, much younger than us. And then we talked about, oh yeah, Sparky, my dog had had puppies a few months after I got her, and she was two and a half. And boy was mother mad when those puppies appeared.
Then we had our first biology, anatomy lesson, about females. Cindy's mom was thorough. These are the teats for the foal to suck on to get it's milk, and the vagina that the stallion sticks his cock in to deposit his sperm. She had to back up just enough to tell us that cock is really a slang word for a mans penis. We were not say cock until we were older.
Back to that gorgeous stallion. He had his cock, penis, hanging way down, and he was not in any mood to be standing around. Cindy's mom finished and said, well girls, are you ready to see how a baby is made?
Stepping to her left, with me and Cindy on either side of her, we stopped between the two stalls and watched as that dividing wall merely slid toward the outside wall.
That was one of the best experiences of my life.
Cindy and I turned as the office door was opened, and in walked Mrs. Baxter. A beautiful, tall, slim, 45 year old. Her jacket was across her arm, her long jet black hair had been set in a bun that had a thick ponytail hanging down to the bottom of her ass, her sheer silver blouse clung to her, no bra, a skin tight, skin toned, camisole which simply stopped at the waist and barely covered enough of her nipples on top. Her navy blue skirt stopped at mid thigh and appeared to snap, or button, about two inches from her left waist. A strip of silk, about 2" wide, of her silver silk material was about two inches from the bottom of the skirt. Her long, sexy legs were covered with nylons, ending in those drop dead gorgeous, fuck me shoes. Six inch spiked heels, navy blue leather that was barely there. From the heel down was a mere inch of leather around the sides and over the toes.
This was not her typical office atire. She closed the door and looked us both over. We were both wearing standard, policy, office attire. Cindy was wearing her white, cotton, open, button down, long sleeve blouse, black leather skirt, mid thigh, black stockings, and her black leather three inch spiked heels. I was wearing my white, cotton, button down, long sleeve blouse unbuttoned to the top of my low cut white bra, my new lavender leather skirt, mid thigh, white thigh high stockings, my feet in white leather four inch spiked heels.
Mrs. Baxter told Cindy to walk over to her as if she was the sexiest man Cindy had ever seen. With your, fuck me, look. Cindy's hands moved to check for, and make necessary adjustments but stopped as she stepped forward, hands gliding along the leather, her center fingertips sliding away from each other, fingers spread as her hands slid to her outer thighs and down as if she were straightening her skirt. Her large blue eyes looked directly into Mrs. Baxter's as she watched Mrs. Baxter watch her. Cindy stopped in front of Mrs. Baxter, held out her hand, long, ruby red fingertips. Mrs. Baxter hesitated just a moment and then her hand slid under Cindys, she raised her hand up and placed a kiss right in the center of the back of Cindys hand. A ruby red lip imprint. Cindy bowed gracefully and moved to Mrs. Baxters right.
With a sign from Mrs. Baxter, her palm up, all fingers stretched out, except the middle one, it was standing straight up. I began my walk. I was looking at Mrs. Baxter, my hands at my sides, my shoulders held straight back, my lips slightly parted in a welcoming smile. I too stopped in front of Mrs. Baxter, held out my hand with my ruby red tipped nails. Mrs. Baxter very slowly looked me over, from the top of my head to the tips of my heels. As her look began rising, she asked her husband, "Mr. Baxter, I am very pleased with this young ladies atire, may we please have your opinion?"
"I fully appreciate Janice's, attempt, to be properly attired, to walk properly, to attempt to tease everyone in sight. However, her stockings need to be visible, not up so high that you believe she is just another woman in pantyhose". His fingertips were sliding up the back of my thigh, up under my skirt, stopping at the top of the stocking. "I believe it is time for further investment, Mrs. Baxter".
Mrs. Baxter stated "Monday morning I want you both to be at Moniques, 5:00 a.m. You will have showered, shaved, put your makeup on, and you are each to wear nothing other than a tight, sheer camisole, black leather office skirt, and your six inch, fuck me, office heels. In the bathroom, just before you leave, after inspecting each other, you are to face one another, raise your hands to each others breasts, massage them, when you get to the nipples you are to take your nails and pinch, hard. Repeatedly. I want those gorgeous nipples rock hard and throbbing when you arrive at Moniques. ... Mr. Baxter now tells the girls, "Do not forget that you represent Baxter's. You are to do absolutely anything that Monique orders you to do". Yes, my girls, you have moved to a new plateau, as with the rewards, keep in mind that the punishments also advance."
Mrs. Baxter moves into Cindy, Mr. Baxter moves into me, and they both say "Girls, you work for us, you pay us as well. We teach you our business, we pay you with advancements and education". "Do you both agree that we have all fulfilled our commitments to one another"? We want to hear each of you tell us again, our binding contract statement".
Cindy and I state "I, our name, willingly agree to work for Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, at Baxter's, in any position of their choosing. We agree to do, say, and learn, and use any skill of Mr. and Mrs. Baxters choosing. At any time or place, with anyone, very willingly, fully knowing that we, as representatives of Baxters, must give our all, at all times".
Mr. and Mrs. Baxter's hands are raising our skirts from behind. They push us down, face first, lying over the desktop. A zipper is heard. Clothes rustling. Our skirts are pulled up around our waists, oooohhhh, a mouth is moving across my ass, Cindys as well if I am interpreting her look correctly. They're biting. Our asses.
Large, hard bites. Moving along slowly as they suckle their freshly bitten piece of ass. Over to the other cheek I catch my breath as another bite, this time with a hard slap across our bitten cheeks. Ooooh, those leather belts. A hard bite with a hard slap. Cindy and I are now gasping and crying as we offer our allegiance to the Baxters.
No more biting. No more harsh strokes of the belt.
Our wrists are placed together, and then metal clicks against metal. Handcuffs! We are carefully rolled onto our backs, watch as the Baxters stretch their leather belts in their hands in front of us, the belt is laid beside us, and ...
Mr. and Mrs. Baxter are eating our pussies. With a bite between their teeth they raise up as our flesh is stretched to the limit, a final clenching of their teeth and then they move on. Cindy and I are crying and screaming, and begging for them to stop until they have devoured us, our hard clits engorged and throbbing, untouched.
They are standing there, looking at us, as we calm down enough they say, we are now going to suckle your clits into our mouths and give you your desired release ...
Then, the two of you are going to eat us, together, you are going to share our cum.
You will go home and spend the weekend in your home.
Waiting for a phone call.
Or the doorbell. You will service anyone, and everyone, as They please.
When you show up at Moniques you are not to say how you have obtained the markings all along your bodies, nor who, nor how many it took to do this.
Monique has the use of your two bodies, as she pleases.
We were sent home with one absolute direction. We were not to cum until Monique allowed it.
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