Girl Tal

Girl Talk 10: Karen

This series is based on interviews I did quite a few years back with women who had modelled for me, or were private clients when I worked as a photographer. Their words have been, 'edited' but only to remove features of continuous speech such as, 'um, ah, eh,' and repetitions of partial phrases which is common in everyday speech.

The Confession Club: Karen is in her mid, to late thirties, a petite, short haired brunette, about 5'3" tall, slim, with pert little breasts, and an olive complexion which makes her look Italian, or Spanish. She's an office manager in a small oil-related company in Aberdeen, Scotland. She had done a photo shoot with me a couple of years earlier, and when I asked her if she had a story to tell, she arranged to come into my studio/office and gave me this one.

CC: Tell me about your boss Karen.

Karen: He's lovely. Strict but very fair; all the girls in the office have a wee crush on him.

CC: What about his wife?

Karen: None of the girls liked her - they all thought she was a stuck-up bitch. I felt the same way about her at first, but I get on really well with her now.

CC: Could you please repeat the story you told me about her for Girl Talk?

Karen: Yeah, well it all started when my boss had to go to Houston, Texas, for an oil conference and trade show. He was going to be away for about two weeks, and his wife, who is a shareholder in the company, decided she would take his place, 'just to keep an eye on things.' As office manager, I was the one who had most contact with her, and within a couple of days she was driving me crazy. Nothing I did was good enough for her, and anything that went wrong was my fault. I decided to keep my head down and get on with my work, after all, it was only going to be for a couple of weeks.

As we got closer to the end of the first week, I was getting more and more stressed. I was doing my work just fine as usual, but she'd made a couple of major blunders, which resulted in me working late to put things right. By Friday I was looking forward to the weekend. It was almost 5pm on Friday when she called me into her office. She'd just had a call from one of our major customers asking why their order hadn't been delivered.

In the oil business, everything is required, 'yesterday.' Non-delivery can cause delays, and delays in the oil business can mean seriously BIG money, we're talking millions. It was all my fault according to her, whereas it actually turned out be something she had overlooked. I finally managed to get everything sorted out, and the equipment despatched by courier, but it took time. It was well past seven o'clock, and everyone else had gone home by the time it was fixed, leaving just me and her in the office. I was really, really annoyed and frustrated with the way things were going.

I was getting ready to leave when she called me back into her office, but if I thought she would be grateful I was wrong. She said my incompetence had nearly cost them a valuable and very important contract, and she was giving me a written warning. I was absolutely flabbergasted since she was the one who had fucked it up. I don't lose my temper very often, but I was reaching boiling point very quickly with her. I pointed out in no uncertain terms that it was her incompetence that was the problem, and I had in fact saved her skin, and the contract.

She told me she could fire me, 'like that,' snapping her fingers as she said it. Well, it wasn't just her fingers that snapped, I did too, and storming round to her side of the desk, I slapped her hard across the face, so hard that she fell off her chair and landed on the floor. I couldn't believe what I'd just done, 'there goes my job' I remember thinking, but when she got up and looked as if she might retaliate, I hit her again. In the stomach this time - a good hard punch, not a slap, and followed it up with another slap across the other side of her face.

She went down again, winded, and I stood over her with a warning to stay down unless she wanted more of the same. I told her she was a snotty, ungrateful bitch, and a few other less than complimentary things, and much to my surprise, she started crying. That's when I realised that her hard-boiled attitude was an act.

I could hardly believe how she'd caved in so easily, and what's more; I was surprised to discover that I was loving every second of my power over her. I was thinking how I could humiliate her even more. I'd been a little envious of her appearing every day with a different designer business suit. She was tall, elegant, and gorgeous, always immaculate, with dark hair, beautifully cut. She was almost the 'Hollywood,' ideal of what a high-powered businesswoman should look like.

'Look at you,' I shouted angrily, 'dressed like a fucking business woman. The fucking cleaners knows more about this business than you do. You're just a phoney - take that fuckin' jacket off you bitch.' She started to protest, but I lifted my hand again as if to hit her, and she immediately began to unbutton the jacket. As she opened her jacket and let it slide off her shoulders, I realised she only had a very skimpy, lacy, black bra on underneath. I could clearly see her dark nipples through the fabric. I couldn't help but admire her figure - great tits, which made me even more jealous and annoyed. As you know, I'm not very big in the tits department.

CC: No, but they're very nice, and beautifully shaped Karen, there's no need for you to be jealous of anyone.

Karen: Maybe not, but I've always wanted bigger ones, and all I could see at that moment was

that

bitch had them, and I was even more determined now to rub her nose in it. I'd always had a fair bit of curiosity about other women, and seeing those gorgeous boobs, combined with the feeling of elation I had at her being in my power began to get me turned on. I knew it was a very flimsy pretext, but I thought I'd push it as far as I could to see what would happen, so I told her, 'skirt as well.'

She stood up, unzipped her skirt, turned away, folded it, and placed it over the back of another chair, and got back down on her knees, trying to cover her panties with her hands. Just trying to be modest I thought. She wore no tights, or stockings, the weather was still quite warm, and most of the girls in the office were still sporting their summer suntans, complete with bare legs - and we were no exceptions, and besides, the office was always very warm.

I sat down on her office chair, and told her to come closer, and she shuffled across the office floor on her knees, for all the world like a submissive Japanese Geisha. I'd been watching her, and it dawned on me that she was very compliant. My mind began to work overtime - could it be that I'd inadvertently stumbled on, or even awakened a submissive streak in her? It was when she got back down on her knees without being told to after removing her skirt that made me start to wonder.

She knelt in front of me, looking at the floor; her position so subservient I was now convinced she was a submissive. I thought I'd probably be fired anyway, so I just made up my mind to go for it and see just how far I could push her before she rebelled. I slipped my shoes off and told her I'd been on my feet all day doing

her

dirty work, so now she could repay part of what she owed me. A foot massage would be nice I told her, be gentle and make my aching feet feel human again.

Saying nothing she leaned forward and placed my foot in her lap and began to massage it with small circular motions. She stopped for a moment and reached under the desk for her handbag. When I asked her what she was doing she replied that she had some nice cream in her bag which would make the massage feel even better, so I thought, 'what the hell?' and let her get on with it. The cream she was using on my foot was a top of the range face cream, costing all of ninety-five pounds for a small jar; the kind I could never afford on my salary, and here she was rubbing generous amount of it into my foot. It felt very nice; cool and sensual, and I felt myself getting very aroused as she massaged gently, and I began to wonder what her hands would feel like on my titties.

Power is a great aphrodisiac, and I was also getting a great view of her cleavage - the creamy white flesh jiggling slightly as she moved. She reached for my other foot, her legs parted, and I noticed something strange, but decided to keep quiet and save that for when she was finished. She lavished the same attention on my other foot and by the time she was finished my pussy was soaking - it was all so sensual and felt so damn good.

'Is... is that OK, how does that feel?' she asked me without looking up.

'Just great - you did a good job, well done,' I said. She meekly thanked me for my praise. However, I changed tack again, just to keep her guessing and on her toes. I pushed my right foot against her knee, first one then the other, pushing them apart to get a better look at what I'd seen a few minutes ago.

'Spread them,' I said loudly, like a New York cop. She looked up at me, silent pleading in her eyes, tears not far away. 'Fucking spread them you bitch,' I shouted this time, and I offered to slap her again. She flinched even though I hadn't touched her but spread her legs apart. 'Stand up,' I ordered, and she scrambled to her feet. 'What the fuck is that?' I said pointing to her pubes. She blushed deeply, and I could see she was embarrassed and humiliated, my stomach lurched with excitement.

'Please don't,' she almost whispered, but I repeated my question, and she finally explained that her husband didn't like her to shave or wax. The tiny panties, matching her bra and in the same see through, lacy material hid virtually nothing. A thick dark growth of pussy hair was sprouting out of the sides and above the bikini line. To add to her embarrassment, I let her know that I thought it was disgusting. Now I had the excuse, I went for it big time.

'Take them off,' I said, pointing to her panties. She seemed quite shocked, and refused, so I slapped her again - hard - she took them off. She really was remarkably hairy. The dark hair not only covered her pussy in a deep thatch but grew down the inside of her thighs and up towards her flat stomach. I looked at her without saying anything for a while, and she visibly squirmed with embarrassment, trying to cover herself with her hands, but I wasn't having any of that. 'Hands behind your back, and stand with your legs apart, or you'll get another good slapping,' I threatened. The power I had over her wasn't going to my brain, it had taken quite another direction, and it felt wonderful - I was exhilarated. She stood there waiting for what ever came next.

I looked around her desk, then started opening drawers until I found what I was looking for. Her eyes opened wider with fear as I took a pair of large scissors out of the drawer.

'No, please, no. He'll go mad when he comes home if I'm not hairy,' she protested. I said nothing, but just reached out and grabbed myself a generous handful of her 'bush.' She came to me like a dog on a leash as I pulled.

'Is that sore?' I asked, as I tangled my fingers even deeper in her thatch. She nodded, and I tugged again, making her wince. I handed her the scissors and told her she could cut herself free, or I would take great pleasure in pulling the hair out by the roots. She hesitated, shaking her head until I twisted and pulled quite savagely, she began to cut. When my hand and a large tuft of hair finally came free there was a large, thinned out patch in the centre of her pubes. When she saw it, she began crying again, and I let her indulge herself for a wee while.

'OK, you can stop crying now, it'll grow back if you're really determined to grow it back. Meanwhile we'll get it properly trimmed so it won't look patchy. I'll trim it for you, just like I do my own, and he'll probably never even notice,' I said.

'How do you trim yours?' she asked, like a lamb to the slaughter. I hesitated for a few moments, as if thinking, then put my hands up my skirt and removed my panties. I was really wet, and very horny as I stood up and sat on the very edge of her desk, pointing to the floor in front of me. She immediately got down on her knees before me. Keeping my legs tightly closed, I hitched my skirt up to my waist, which I have to say gave me quite a thrill, although I knew she could see nothing yet. She looked for a few moments.

'It's almost the same as mine,' she said, 'but trimmed very neatly.'

'No, it's not - look closer,' I said, knowing there was nothing to see just yet. As long as my legs were together, my pussy looked, 'au naturelle,' but when I chose to open my legs for her, she was in for quite a surprise. She was about to discover there was no hair 'down-under' to conceal my labia at all, it was completely shaven. She got closer again and looking down I could see the puzzled look on her face, not to mention her warm breath on my pussy.

'It still looks much the same - I don't understand,' she said. I reached down and took another handful of her hair, on her head this time. It felt silky and smooth - I was savouring every sensual touch. I pulled her closer still until her nose was almost touching my pubes.

'See anything yet?' I asked again, and she shook her head, so I opened my legs as wide as I could. 'How about now?' There was an audible gasp, and she nodded. I gently pulled her closer still, very aware of how wet I was and what she must be seeing. I held her there for a moment or two, and then let her go. She didn't pull away, and then after what seemed like an eternity it was my turn to gasp as I felt the first, hesitant touch of her tongue and mouth, on my clitoris.

I moaned with delight and slid slightly forward on the edge of the desk, rubbing myself against her mouth. She too was making moaning sound as she licked my clitoris and sank her fingers into my cunt, probing and sucking. I came very loudly, but she wouldn't stop, and soon I was lying back over her desk with her licking and finger fucking me to another orgasm.

Somehow, she'd managed to remove my blouse, bra and skirt, and I was completely naked. Somewhere in the haze of lust and pleasure she had removed her bra too, because I was suddenly lickin her nipples and fondling her big tits. They felt marvellous. For the moment she was in charge again, but she told me later she didn't feel like that. To her she was servicing me, worshipping my breasts and cunt and giving me pleasure to make up for being a bitch.

Whatever her reasons, I was loving it, and I was virtually helpless as she worked on all my erogenous bits. We ended up on the floor and I was very aware that she was kneeling over my face. Looking up I could see her bottom, and a very prominent labia, open and very wet, very close, almost touching my nose. She smelled fragrant and musky, hot and sexual, and I buried my tongue in her cleft tasting my first woman, and oh how exciting that first taste was. She moaned loudly, and then I felt her do the same to me. We stayed in that classic sixty-nine position for what seemed like hours, bringing each other to orgasm again and again until we were both exhausted. We lay in each other's arms - we kissed, mingling our tongues, saliva, and pussy tastes. We were both rather shame-faced and said sorry for what took place earlier that evening.

CC: Well, that certainly makes working late at the office something to look forward to.

Karen: It was lovely, really good. Just thinking about it gets me going.

CC: So, what happened next?

Karen: We got together at her house next day, and I trimmed and shaved her the same as I was. When I held the mirror up to show her, she absolutely loved it. For one thing it showed her lovely pussy - she has very protruding labia, big and fleshy, something to get your mouth on, and fingers into. Fuck, I'd better stop speaking like that, I'm horny enough already. Naturally, we had another ding-dong session, we were both very excited after the shaving session, and she let me know that she liked me taking charge and telling her what do. So, I did, and do!!

CC: And Now?

Karen: We meet at least once a week. Her husband, my boss, thinks it's just because we became very good friends when he was away, and I suppose you could say that's true in a strange way. He hardly noticed her trim.

CC: It's a bit ironic, don't you think Karen? You're the Mistress of your boss' wife. Trust you to be different. (she laughs) Thanks for the story Karen.

Karen: It was a pleasure. Eh...would you like to meet her?

CC: Really?

Karen: Yeah, I think I'll get her to come over and get some really dirty photos taken. I won't come with her; I'll just send her with instructions to be a dirty whore for your camera. I'd like some pics of her, and maybe we'll come back later and do a two-girl set... Mmm... that sounds good. Are you up for that?

CC: I'm cool with that, but I won't hold my breath waiting.

Karen: Oh, it will happen - if I want her too, she'll do it. (smiling)

CC: OK - I look forward to that. Thank you again - lovely story.

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