The week that followed was an incredibly slow one. On Monday, I kept expecting John to call me into his office. I even wore another on of my sexy lace getups, a bright red bra and panties set. But I didn't see him.
The rest of the week followed in a similar fashion. I'd get to work bright and early, eager to start the day, trembling with anticipation at what might happen. But, apart from the regular office work, nothing would happen. I was starting to think that I had imagined it all in a fever dream.
The only thing that proved to me that it was real was the bonus check I got in the mail on Friday after work. It was generous, and unlike any I'd received before. I decided to spend it on some more sexy lingerie.
The next Monday, John called me into his office, and we fucked. It was the same exercise as last time, only a bit more rushed. He bent me over the desk, pulled my panties down, and fucked me hard. This time he came inside me, not on my face, and I was slightly relieved at not having to show my co-workers a face full of cum again.
The rest of the week continued like this, I'd get to work, and no more than 10 minutes would elapse that I was sitting at my desk, and he'd call me over. On Thursday he called me in twice, fucking me in his chair once, and the second time to suck his cock under the desk. I happily obliged on both occasions.
It's Friday now and I'm expecting more of the same. I log into my computer and open some worksheets. Sure enough, in about twenty minutes or so, I get an e-mail.
'Need you in my office. Now. Master.'
I swallow a lump in my throat. It's go-time. I stand up from my desk and straighten my skirt, which is getting higher and higher every day. Today it just barely covers my bum, but looks great. I flounce across the room to John's office, and open the door without so much as a knock.
"Hello, Master," I say in a singsong voice, closing the door, my back turned to him. "Did you miss your little fucktoy--" I turn around, and stop.
What is SHE doing here??
It's Tiffany, the Dragon Lady. John is sitting at his desk, an undeniable smirk on his face. I should have noticed actually, as I came in this morning, that Tiffany had been wearing a long trench coat. She's wearing it now. But I must've been too horny and distracted to notice.
"I — uh —" I begin, not sure how to continue. Was Tiffany going to watch us? The thought was intimidating.
"Lana," says John in his rich honey voice. "I take it you know Tiffany, yes?"
I nod, confused.
"Tiffany is going to be your Mistress from now on. So, you do as she says, and she does as I say, but both you and Tiffany submit to me. Is that understood?"
What? What on earth was he talking about?
"Are we doing this together?" I ask, pointing at Tiffany. John and Tiffany exchange glances. Tiffany removes her trench coat, letting it fall to the floor. I gasp.
Tiffany is wearing thigh-high black heels, a black PVC minidress, and nothing else. The sleeveless dress ended in a half-cup shelf bra, so her breasts and nipples are resting on it, visible. Her pink nipples are protruding erect, rising and falling with the movements of her chest.
Tiffany takes off her hat as well, shaking out long, brown hair that falls nearly to her waist.
"Take off your clothes. Leave your bra and panties," she says, moving to a side cabinet.
I can't move, I'm so transfixed by her beauty. Yes, she had always seemed somewhat fierce, somewhat...frightening, but now she's just breathtaking.
"I said Now."
I quickly oblige her request, pulling down my skirt and lifting off my top. From the corner of my eye I see her reaching into a cabinet to retrieve some things. I spot a riding crop, some pink cucumber-shaped thing, and a few other things I can't make out.
She briefly inspects my appearance, with a somewhat disapproving glare.
"Come closer, whore," she beckons.
I slowly walk up to Tiffany. She's leaning against John's desk, with John himself sitting comfortably behind it, one hand resting behind his head and the other down his pants.
"Put this on," she says, handing me a black leather collar. I fasten it at a comfortable notch, the leather cold against my skin. Once I finish, she takes a dog leash and hooks it to the metal ring in front.
"Now get on all fours, and walk with me."
I do as Tiffany orders, getting down on all fours. She makes me walk up the room, my back to John. Then she stops, and I stop.
"How do you like your whore, Master?" Tiffany asks John. I turn to look back at John, but Tiffany pushes the riding crop into my cheek, forcing me to gaze ahead. Then I feel Tiffany kneel beside me as she digs her manicured hands into my buttcheeks. She pulls down my panties, exposing my ass to John.
"I like that," says John, so I can hear. "Give it a slap for master."
*Slap!*
I feel Tiffany's hand sharp against my cheek. Then another *Slap!* against my other cheek. I can feel myself getting wet now, imagining my pussy juices begin to glisten. I want to desperately touch myself, but have a feeling I'm not allowed to.
Four more *Slaps!*, two on each side, and I can feel my cheeks reddening. It hurts, but not too much.
"That's enough, bring her over here," says John, and I can feel how horny he is through his voice.
Tiffany leads me back, tugging gently on the leash. As soon as we come back to the desk, she gets me standing on my knees. She unhooks the leash.
John and Tiffany exchange glances again, as if they've done this before.
"Now, whore..."
"Yes?" I ask, timidly.
"It's 'Yes, Mistress' to you," chides Tiffany, my mistress.
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Do you want to suck Master's cock, or do you wanna be fucked?"
My pussy tingles at the thought of being fucked by John. I'm desperate.
"I wanna be fucked, Mistress."
*Slap!*
