A Wee with Arianna: Tuesday

"Hi there," I said to Arianna as I made my way into the office. The day before had been quite the experience, and I was ready to pick up right where we left off. I noticed she was wearing a bright yellow dress, mid-thigh and a little more low-cut than usual. "She must have wanted to give me a little show, as much as she can in the office," I thought. Damn, her tits looked nice boosted up by the edge of the desk, where she seemed to enjoy resting them.

"Hi," she replied, and waved with a big smile.

"I brought you something," I said, handing her a styrofoam coffee cup. She knew as soon as she saw it that it was filled with piss.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. I walked back to my desk and texted her.

"Finish it. Now. And then meet me in the bathroom in the back. I have another surprise for you."

I watched in the webcam as she struggled to drink it, covering her mouth and putting her head down after each sip. I could tell just looking how worthless she felt doing it, but I also knew by now she enjoyed that worthless feeling.

"So how was your night last night?" I asked when we got to the bathroom.

"It was fine," she said. "I put the clips on in the shower for you," she said, teasing me.

"You like hurting those tits for me?" I asked.

"Yeah - and now, my tits are on fire," she pointed out. "Like - my nipples are getting raw."

"Good," I said, pleased. "And how's your boyfriend? Did you fuck him last night?" I was beginning to enjoy how much control and intrusion I was having into her sex life with him - and I had a feeling it was going to get worse.

"No. I had to pretend to pick a fight with him just so he wouldn't try to fuck me," she said. She smiled, as if she didn't mind too much.

"Oh, Ari," I began. "I never said you had to refuse him - in fact, I think you should be a good slut and make your body available for his use as often as he desires, don't you?"

"Yes, but - if he did - if he fucked me - he would have tried to get me to cum -"

"Well, tonight, this is what you're going to do. You're going to go home, go to the bedroom, undress, put on some lingerie, and go out in the living room and suck his cock until he cums in your mouth. And if he tries to reciprocate, you refuse, and tell him you just wanted to apologize for last night, and you don't need it, you just want to please him. Got it?"

"Yes, Master" she said. She looked to her left and bit her nail, and I could tell her mind was beginning to wander.

"Anyway, I brought you something," I said.

"What?"

"I got you a bra," I said, smiling. I reached into a bag and pulled out a red lace bra with about thirty thumbtacks glued in the inside of each cup, the sharp ends pointing straight at her breasts.

"Oh my god," she said, holding her face in her hands. "That would really hurt!" She smiled a big smile. It was as if she enjoyed the thought of wearing it, knowing she would be torturing her breasts for me with each passing minute - but she clearly hadn't picked up on the fact that it was today's preferred treatment for her tits.

"Well, why don't you try it on?" I asked her.

"Right now?"

"Yes."

Arianna slowly lifted her dress, pulling it over her head. It was tight-fitting, and I imagined there wouldn't have been any way for her to take off the bra she had worn that day and put on the new one otherwise - especially with the implements I had devised.

"Turn around," I instructed her when she had taken off her dress. I could see that she had worn a pair of white cotton panties, today going for a schoolgirl look beneath her dress. Her original bra had also been white, but that one was coming off.

"Place your hands on the sink," I told her. She bent over and her ass stuck out in my direction. She looked in the mirror and smiled at me. I pulled her panties aside.

I ran my hand across her pussy, not nearly as wet as it was yesterday, but it began to glisten and swell as I touched her. I heard a soft moan as I caressed her. Slowly I ran my hand up her back, unclasping her bra, which she allowed to fall to the floor.

"So," I asked her, looking at her ass, protruding out as if to greet me. "Have you ever had your ass fucked before?"

"I mean, like - I've tried it," she admitted.

"Just once?"

"Maybe four, five times?" She answered.

"And?" I continued probing, no pun intended. "Did you enjoy it?"

"It's not - it wasn't bad - not during, I mean I kind of liked it. One time I was pretty drunk and got really into it actually, but not with my boyfriend - I mean - it was before we met."

"So then why only a few times?"

"The feeling after - I mean it - I don't know how else to say it but - I felt like I had to, you know, go to the bathroom - for a day or two after. But I didn't have to. It was weird."

"Okay," I said.

"Plus," she continued, "My boyfriend - he'd rather get a blowjob or fuck my pussy," she explained.

"Oh, would he now?" I asked. I was a little surprised how willing she was to divulge intimate details about her sex life with her boyfriend.

"Yeah, he likes to cum deep in my pussy," she went on.

Slowly I started to caress the area near her anal opening, just running my thumb across her sphincter while I stroked her pussy, which was swelling by the minute.

"Ohhhh, that - that feels really nice," she moaned.

"Makes you want it up the ass, doesn't it?" I asked her.

"Yes, sir."

"Well I'm going to bring you another surprise, then," I said, smiling. "But for now, I think I'd like to spank you. Ten strokes. And as you feel them, count them out. Say, one, I'm a dirty slut, and so on until you get to ten."

"Yes, sir," she replied. I let loose and smacked her right cheek hard.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "One, I'm a dirty slut!"

I reached in front and felt her heavy, luscious breasts, before removing my hands and slapping both ass cheeks at the same time. She quivered a little.

"Ohhhh! Two, I'm a dirty slut!"

I caressed her sphincter again, and she moaned as I swirled my thumb around her opening before I raised my hand and spanked her left cheek again.

"Yes- three - ohhhh, three, I'm a dirty slut!"

"Four, I'm a dirty slut!" She whispered loudly as I struck her again.

"Ohhh! Five, yes, I'm a dirty slut!" She rang out, counting a fifth stroke.

At this point I paused, picked up the bra I had brought for her, and helped her into it, sliding the straps up her arms, securing its clasp in the back in the loosest option, and tightening the straps on her shoulders.

"How does that feel?" I asked her.

"It hurts a little, not too bad," she replied. I quickly smacked her ass again. She jumped a little, surprised, and her breasts jiggled inside the bra.

"Ow! Six, I'm a dirty slut!"

"Seven, I'm a dirty slut!" She moaned as I struck her again.

"Yes you are," I replied. "You jumped a little there."

"Yeah, it - it hurt - when I jumped - not bad, but it - it went away mostly," she explained.

"Ohhh! Eight, I'm a dirty slut!" she exclaimed as I struck her ass again. "Okay, that's - it's definitely poking into my nipples now," she said.

"Good," I replied. "So, let me ask you something. What do you think of the idea of wearing that back to your desk, sitting there working while the tacks press into hit skin?" I reached down and stroked her pussy again. "God, she's getting wet," I though.

"Ari?" I said, after several seconds of silence. "I asked you a question, slut!"

"Owww, nine! Nine, I'm a dirty slut!" She moaned as I began to stroke her pussy again.

"I - I - is that - I mean, is that what you want?" She asked.

"Yes, and it's what you're going to do." I replied. Closing her eyes and biting her lip, she just nodded in agreement as I softly stroked her pussy.

"Do you like that idea?" I asked. Looking at her, I could see that she had opened her eyes.

She closed her eyes again and lowered her head as if she were staring at the sink drain. She probably would have been, if her eyes had been open. "Yes," she whispered softly.

"Why?"

"I - I always like the things you do to me," she whispered. Her legs had begun to shake, and I could tell that she was terribly aroused and fighting the urge to cum even as I softly stroked her still.

"Even when they hurt?" I asked. "Be honest."

"Especially when they hurt," she admitted. Her face flushed, the blood rushing to her cheeks. "I like hurting myself for you."

"Does it turn you on?" I asked. Of course, I already knew the answer.

"Mmmhmmm," she said, nodding. She was incredibly wet. I slid one finger inside her pussy. She bent forward, arched her back and moaned. Quickly, I raised my hand and slapped her ass again, the hardest one yet.

"Ten, I'm a dirty slut!" She confesses again.

"Good. I'll see you back at your desk in a few minutes," I said as I headed toward the door.

"Can you please just fuck me already?" She begged. It was really hard to resist, the slut bent over the sink, offering me her body, begging for my cock and any sort of sexual release that came with it. But I had more, so much more planned for the week, and I knew I needed to keep her horny and on edge so she would get desperate enough to do what I wanted.

"Friday after work," I replied. I retreated to her and picked up her panties and shoved them in my pocket, then I opened the door and left.

Several minutes later, I watched as she squirmed at her desk. "Those tacks must be poking her wonderfully," I thought to myself. I watched as she leaned forward, trying to take some of the pressure off the bra. As she worked, her elbows were practically glued to her sides. It looked to me like she had already moved them too far or too fast once or twice and knew the feeling she was going to receive in her breasts if she did it again.

I grabbed a pen and walked down to her cubicle. "Here, catch!" I said, tossing it in her direction. Reacting instinctually, she practically jumped out of her chair to catch it, shrieking out as she jumped.

"Derek!" She exclaimed.

"Yes?" I asked as I turned around to face her. Three coworkers were looking in her direction, no doubt wondering what all the fuss was about. "Sorry, umm - you surprised me," she stammered. Her face was thirty shades of red as she slunk back down in her seat.

"That wasn't fair!" She texted me as soon as I got back to my desk. I could tell by her reaction, her shrieking and embarrassment and the fact that I could see her gently, nonchalantly pressing her wrists against her breasts in the webcam, that the jumping maneuver had kicked the pain up a notch, just as I had intended.

"You know you liked it," I texted back.

"Shut up," she replied.

"Don't talk to me like that, slut," I shot back. "Now as punishment, I want you to text me five degrading but true things about yourself. I'll give you an example: I am a slut. But you can't use that one. Go."

I watched in the webcam as she swallowed her own saliva, looking down at her body. She shook her head at her computer, then picked up her phone and began to type. I looked at my phone, waiting for her reply. Soon my phone lit up.

"I am a urinal," it said.

"Just a urinal? Or is your mouth a nasty piss-swallowing receptacle for me to use as I please? Come on, more degrading!" I watched as she squirmed a little in her seat, swallowing again. She was breathing heavily.

"What you said, master."

"I want to see you say it." She swallowed again and took a deep breath. Soon my phone lit up again.

"I am a disgusting piss swallowing cunt for you to use as your personal urinal whenever you want," she typed back. "Is that better?"

"Good. Four to go," I replied.

"I am a pain slut and I like it when you hurt me because I'm such a slut and it turns me on," she wrote back.

"Okay, keep going," I typed. I watched as she looked around, seemingly lost in space for a moment, then swallowed again. I could tell that she was unusually excited. She reached to her sides and adjusted her bra, which was clearly becoming uncomfortable.

"Three. I'm such a whore I'm actually really turned on by the way you degrade and humiliate me and I don't ever want you to stop."

"Good," I wrote back. "Now reach up under your dress and touch your slut pussy for me." I watched as her hand disappeared below the view of the webcam and she closed her eyes briefly, biting her lip slightly before slightly moistening her lip with her tongue, not thinking about the signals she was sending me.

"Okay. Four and five. Make them good."

"Honestly, I'm turned on by you controlling my sex life with my boyfriend, not letting me cum with him," she wrote back. She sighed and looked away from the camera. I wondered if she revealed something about herself that she didn't think I knew - something that was embarrassing, but also gave me some insight into an area of her sexual awakening that I would no doubt exploit.

"Good. Five?" I wrote back as if it was nothing.

"I don't know how to say this but I'm your slave. Like your sex slave and I want you to own me and my pussy and mouth and ass. And I wish you would drag me into the bathroom and piss on me and fuck my body and use me and let me cum."

"Good," I wrote back. "Now don't you have some work to do?" I enjoyed nothing more than keeping the little slut on edge, desperate, needing to cum but unable to do so. I started working on a project I'd been thinking about, checking the webcam every few minutes, seeing how she was doing with the bra. I could see her biting her tongue, biting her lip, adjusting her bra again, pushing her breasts up to try to find some relief. Her elbows were glued to her sides. Finally she texted me again.

"This bra HURTS," she wrote. "Can I please take it off sir?"

"Yes - but you're going to either go braless, or you're going to attach two of those binder clips to each of your labia. Your choice."

"I'm not going fucking braless in this dress!" She texted back.

"Then labia clamps it is," I texted back. "And swing by my desk and prove you are wearing them, nobody is over here at the moment." I watched as she picked up four of them, showed them to the camera, and stood up and left.

About three minutes later, Arianna stood nervously at my desk. She looked around and took a deep breath, then slowly raised the hem of her dress, revealing her perfectly shaven pussy with two clamps attached beautifully to each lip. After she lowered her dress, I casually watched as she walked away. She walked slowly, of course, not wanting the clamps to rattle against each other and not wanting to stretch her legs wide enough that it made them pull. If only everyone in the office could see what she was going through, I thought.

She sat down at her desk. I could see that she was tightly gripping her mouse. I watched as she bit her lip during a routine phone call, then I texted her and invited her to lunch.

"Yes, please!" She responded. "I need to get out of here for a minute!"

"Can't take it anymore?" I replied cheekily.

"I NEED to cum. Now. Please?"

"Friday," I replied.

A half hour later, she texted and asked for permission to take the clamps off, and of course I obliged, as long as she agreed to put her tack bra back on and wear it through lunch.

"My tits are burning!" She said when we met at my car. Her dress had been riding up a couple inches and now it looked more like a mini dress than the mid-thigh garment I had seen that morning, but she either didn't notice, didn't care, or was hoping to get me to fuck her.

"Speaking of that," I said as I opened my door. "I have something in here for you. Pull your dress down and your bra, let's get a good look at those tits." She sighed as she got into the car, looked around, and tugged down the clothing until her breasts were fully displayed, right there in the parking garage.

"Good girl," I said.

"I'm not flashing everyone on the way to lunch," she said, determined for retain some semblance of modesty.

"I'm not asking you to," I said. I pulled out a tube of tiger balm and slowly began to massage it into her breasts.

"Owww - please just fuck me," she begged. She moaned as I pinched and pulled at her puffy, swollen nipples. I could still see the marks where the tacks were eating into her skin.

"There," I said, satisfied. "We need to keep your tits on fire, don't we? You know you like the way I torture you."

"Yes, master," she replied. She looked down at the floorboard of the car, closing her eyes slowly and opening them again. Her hands instinctively cupped her breasts. Her dress had ridden up so high that I could almost see her pussy, but she made no effort to adjust it.

"Master, my - my tits are - they're burning!" She said dramatically. She raised her right knee up, her foot off the floor and tensed her leg against the left one. Her hands were now clasped in her lap. She squirmed a little as we pulled out of the garage.

"Is your pussy wet, slut?" I asked her. "You look like you are trying to rub your legs together just to feel some sort of - any available sensation there."

Arianna looked at me with large brown eyes. "Yes. I'm dripping," she said. She smiled, batting her lashes. We pulled out onto the street.

"Show me," I said, smiling a wry smile.

"Right here?"

"Just for a second." I reached out and touched her left breast with my right hand. Although it was covered by her bra and her dress, I thought I could feel her erect nipple through the fabric. I gave it a squeeze.

"God, ohhhh," she moaned as her hands reached for the hem of her dress. "But I - I mean - what if someone sees?"

"Don't worry about that. I want to see. Now, before I decide I'd rather see your tits." I knew showing me her tits would be more humiliating, mainly because there was a much greater chance she would be seen by someone outside of the car.

"You're mean!" She said, before smiling a big, wide smile. I knew what she really meant. She meant that I was turning her on, and not getting any release was making her desperate. But she liked it, and I knew she liked it.

Slowly, Arianna lifted her dress, showing me her bare pussy. I reached down and touched it. Wow, the heat coming off of her was incredible. And she was soaking wet. I was surprised she hadn't developed a wet spot on the seat of my car.

"Ohhhh," she whispered softly.

"You like it when I'm mean, don't you?"

"Mmhmm," she replied.

"Good. Now straighten yourself up, we're at the restaurant." She looked around before pulling her dress back down. It was like she was lost in such a trance she hadn't even realized how far we'd come.

We went inside and quickly found ourselves at opposite sides of a booth. After we placed our orders - mine for a soda and hamburger, here for a salad and tea - she began making subtle eyes across the table.

Our drinks arrived quickly and the waitress left. "Here," I said to Arianna. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two of the binder clips exactly like the ones she had been wearing earlier. "I'm going to the men's room. When I get back these need to be on your pussy. Like earlier, only half as many, because I'm nice."

"Derek - right here?!"

"Yes. This is for calling me mean. Now put them on. Surely you can turn toward the wall and nobody will know." I left and went to the bathroom, grabbing a paper cup and a lid from the soda fountain as I went.

Slowly I made my way to the men's room, and as I walked, I turned back to look at Arianna. Sure enough, she was turned toward the wall side of our booth, head bent down. From my vantage point it just looked like she might be digging for something in her purse, but I knew better. I watched as she slowly went about her work, then sat up slowly and placed her elbow on the table, chin on her hand. I could tell she was tense.

I turned and went to the men's room, then found the first stall and went inside. Quickly i unzipped my pants and positioned my cock just above the paper cup and began to piss. It smelled bad, like the coffee I had earlier in the morning. "I wonder if she knows I'm in here making her a cup of warm piss to drink," I thought. I had to stop thinking about her, though - thinking about her swallowing my piss in a busy restaurant was making me aroused, and I knew if my cock got too hard I'd have trouble pissing. So I inhaled and exhaled slowly, letting my piss stream into the cup until it was about half full. I put the lid on and finished my business in the toilet - after all, I didn't want to make her drink a whole cup full. I'm not cruel, after all. I flushed and washed my hands and made my way back to join Arianna at our table.