Wor Friend

I come home late from work on a Thursday evening. Expecting you to be at home by yourself, I call out your name. "Riss. Hey, sorry I'm a little late. My hearing didn't start until two hours later than it should have."

"We're in the kitchen." you call back to me.

I go into the kitchen, curious about who else is here. I find you at the kitchen table enjoying a glass of wine across from another woman I've not met before. She is attractive and fit. About your age, she has short blond hair, green eyes and a warm smile she flashes as I enter.

"This is Regan, honey." You inform me. "We work together at the office. She's a software engineer and her desk is right next to mine."

I remember you mentioning Regan a couple of times before. It's nice to meet a work friend of yours and put a face to the name, but on the drive home I had you on my mind and was planning some play time for us tonight.

"Hi, Regan. Nice to meet you after hearing so much about you." I smile and extend my hand, which she takes softly. "Mind if I have a glass?"

"Not at all!" you respond. "Share the bottle with us."

I grab a glass from the cupboard and the bottle off the table. "Let's go get more comfortable in the living room."

We talk for a while about the goings on at your work. At least you and Regan do. I listen, contributing a little note every now and then. Your sparkling eyes and the sound of your voice are making me want you even more. But I keep it under wraps while your guest is here.

"Regan just broke things off with her boyfriend." you announce to me, changing the subject from office politics.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." I offer, with a consoling smile.

"Don't be." she responds. "No good relationship ever ends in a break up."

"Quite true." I say.

Regan then volunteering a fair bit more information than I expected from a first time meeting. I suspect there was more than the one bottle of wine involved. She tells me in a nonchalant way that her now ex-boyfriend of the last three years was sexually uptight and had no sense of adventure. She explains how she's always been very kinky and playful when it comes to sex, but that her ex was "Scared to try anything but plain old vanilla, missionary sex." He was a "great guy in every other way," but sexual compatibility is just too big a deal" for a good relationship. It's clear from the way she is directing this conversation toward me that you and she have discussed all this before.

"Marissa tells me you two get a little kinky." She suddenly utters after a pause.

I glance over at you. Your face is flush.

"Oh? What did she tell you?"

"Not much really." Regan says. "She just said that you guys mix things up in the bedroom. I've been hounding her for details ever since and she refuses to give them. She's such a tease!"

"That, she is ... " I smile at you. Your gaze is downward, trying to avoid eye contact. I can tell you are nervous and embarrassed at the turn in the conversation.

"Soooooo . . . .?" Regan presses. "Tell me the details!"

"Well . . . everything we do is for fun and consensual, but I don't know if Riss would be comfortable with people at the office knowing."

"C'mon," Regan persists, turning to you, "I won't share your deep, dark secrets. You know enough of mine that I doubt people would remember yours if you needed to revenge dish on me."

You give me a smile. Your eyes sparkle and I can tell from your expression and your body language that the prospect of having our activities revealed to your friend is exciting your exhibitionist streak.

"I could tell you about it, but if it's alright with Riss, I could demonstrate a little something, as well." I say calmly, as if this were an ordinary conversation.

Your heart jumps in your chest. Immediately your anxiety dials up at the same time you feel a tingle of electricity arc down your spine and activate your sex.

I enjoy watching your face redden, knowing the inner conflict you are feeling.

"Pleeeeeease!" Regan pleads. "Oh! I'd love that! I promise nothing will go beyond this room."

I look at you and smile. "It's up to you, darling."

Your submissive trigger has been pulled. You feel the moisture gathering at your swelling sex. Your heart is pounding. Pulse racing. You feel yourself drifting out of control. Drifting into that blissful submissive headspace where you all but disappear . . .

Your eyes dart back and forth between me and Regan. Your face is crimson. I notice the blood rushing to your chest as well. Your body is betraying your attempts to conceal your sexual arousal.

"C'mon! I promise . . . " Regan urges again.

"Okay." You timidly relent.

I catch your eyes in mine. I see the lust and nervous anticipation. I feel my cock jump to full attention as I take in the sight of your sparkling blue eyes and sense your mixture of fear and sexual thrill.

"So what do you want to do?" I ask you.

"Wha . . . what . . . what you guys were talking about . . . ," you nervously respond.

"You know how to ask me for what you want." I zero in on your eyes. You cast your gaze downward and feel the heat in your face and between your thighs simultaneously build, as if the two were linked.

"Yes, sir." You feel your juices readying to gush as you being to realize that I really plan to put you through your paces in front of your work friend.

Regan is smiling ear to ear, and almost claps her hands in delight.

"Well . . .?" I press. "What would you like, Riss?"

"Ummm . . . please . . . ummm . . . please, sir . . . show Regan . . ."

"Yes . . .?" I ask.

"Um . . . please, sir . . . show Regan my training . . . ," your voice trails off into a whisper by the end.

"Good girl." I commend you. "Now go to the closet and bring back your collar, your training lead, your tail, and the wooden cane. And then present yourself to me."

You walk slowly down the hall, the warmth building to an intense itching need between your thighs with each step. You open our toy chest and get the requested items: a narrow, black leather collar with a locking buckle and four small rings spaced around it that I can use to attach things to - or to attach you to things; a matching three-foot dog leash with a loop of leather as a handle; a medium sized steel anal plug with a bushy fox tail coming out of it; and a thin, vicious looking rattan cane that I've only used on you once before and that left you sore every time you sat down for two days afterward. Also, though I hadn't requested it, you grab a bottle of lubricant gel.

When you get back to the living room you see Regan pouring herself a little more wine. Seeing what you are holding on your return, her eyes widen and her mouth is slightly agape.

I say nothing as you set the items out on the coffee table and begin to undress in front of us.

Sliding your blouse and pants off, you fold them neatly and set them on the armchair you were sitting in before this demonstration began. You look nervously at me as you hook your fingers in the waistband of your panties. You hesitate.

"You know you want this, baby." I say, my voice comforting you.

You slowly peel your panties off and notice a long string of your sexual drool running from the fabric up between your legs as you slide them down. Again you feel your face flash red with embarrassment when you glance up quickly to see if anyone has noticed it, and see the rapturous look of fascinated glee on Regan's face as her eyes are locked on your body's latest betrayal of your mind.

In case there was any doubt, I begin talking to Regan as if you were just an object in the room. "See how she drips when she gets excited? When she's excited and nervous -like she is now - her pussy begins to pour out that sweet honey. But wait, that's just the beginning."

You set your soaked panties on top of the other items on the chair and unclip your bra, letting your breasts hang free. The cool air in the room brushes your already stiff nipples and makes you shudder.

You hesitate for a moment before recalling my command for you to present yourself. You lower yourself to your knees on the carpet, and then lean forward, pressing your breasts and face to the floor at my feet. You extend your arms back, palms up, in a display of submission and spread your thighs slightly, knowing that this exposes your swollen sex and your ass.

"Now come around behind her," I say to Regan. I want to show you how her body has been trained to respond. Regan and I both get up and walk around behind your prone body. You can feel your heart pounding and even hear it echoing in your inner ear.

I pick up the lubricant and squeeze a generous amount onto my fingers and your tail. "She craves the full extent of submission that comes with sexual humiliation. Nothing mean-spirited, just full and complete dominance over her mind by manipulating her body. I wouldn't so much say I 'trained' her to do this, so much as she really needs it to be done and I just found ways to free her from herself." I explain as I slowly work my finger into your ass, letting you relax as your are opened.

You hear yourself utter an involuntary whimper. "Oh! She sure likes that, doesn't she?!" Regan exclaims.

"Do you like that?" I ask you.

"Yuh . . . yes, sir . . .," you whisper.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes, please . . . sir."

I insert a second finger and let you adjust as well, then push a little more of the thick lubricant into you before setting the cold metal of the tail/plug against your tight little ring.

You moan and whimper as I slowly work it's short length into you. I've prepared you so that it only hurts for a moment as the thickest point passes through and your greedy ass pulls it in, securing it in place.

You wiggle slightly as the furry fox tail tickles the tender skin on the backs of your thighs and brushes your swollen lips.

"Now, watch this . . .," I say as I retrieve the cane from the table.

You feel me lift your tail as I brush the cruel wooden implement softly over your awaiting bottom, flicking it very lightly - enough to make you twitch, but not enough to hurt yet.

"What what her body does as she anticipates having her little bottom stung."

"Oh . . . my . . .!" Regan says with shock. "Look at her drool!"

You feel a wave of shame wash over you as you feel your honey begin to gush down your inner thighs, knowing that your friend from work is watching your body completely betray your will.

"Her body is so conditioned to expect a good, hard fucking after a whipping that, like Pavlov's dogs, she starts drooling just at the feel of the whip on her cute little tush." I explain.

"Will you actually whip her with that?!" Regan asks.

"With this?! Not usually. This cane will leave some very sore marks, and so I save it for special occasions. I had her get it this time, because the anxiety knowing I might use it, puts the little thing into her deepest state of compliance."

"I can't imagine . . . " Regan trails off.

"When I whip and fuck her, she likes to feel it for at least the next day. Isn't that right, Riss?"

You are so deep in submissive space that it barely registers that you've been asked a question.

"Isn't that right?" I ask again, as I snap the cane a little more forcefully across your sit spot.

"Yes, sir." you whimper as your body jumps slightly.

"And what happens when you go to the office the next day?" I ask.

"It hurts a little every time I sit down, sir." You respond sheepishly.

"And what does that do to you?"

"It makes me remember what you did to me to show me that you love me and that I'm yours."

"And . . . "

"It makes me get so wet . . . so wet, sir, remembering being made yours."

"And do you like that, Riss?"

"I love it, sir."

"Good girl."

I kneel down beside you on the floor and put my arm over you. I whisper in your ear how proud I am of you, and how much I love you. "Now go into the bedroom and wait for me on your hands and knees on the bed. We are just getting started."

As you make your way back down the hall, your juices running copiously down your thighs, your tail tickling you with every swishing step, you hear me say goodbye to your friend from work.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, my girl has earned some more attention from me. It was a pleasure having your company."

A dazed Regan mutters, "Yeah . . . umm . . . thank you for having me. We have to do this again some time."

"We will." I say. "Next time you see her sitting down gingerly at work, remember she's probably creaming her panties right in front of you. In fact, keep watching and I bet she has to get up and go to the ladies room several extra times on those days to dry herself off."

Stunned, Regan absent-mindedly mutters, "I wish . . . oh, god . . . I wish . . . I want that . . . "

"We'll see. Goodnight, Regan, have a lovely evening. I know we will."

As you nervously wait on hands and knees in the center of the bed, you hear the door close, and my boots clicking on the tile floor in the hallway as I come toward the bedroom. You utter a contented sigh and make sure your legs are spread and back arched as you've been trained.

"I think my good girl has earned a reward."