This is a continuation of my last story but gets dirtier, so if you prefer toilets to be used for toilet needs rather than panties, this may not be for you...
Imagine being sexually aroused at work -- the naughty frisson of your personal excitement sneaking into your professional life for a second or a few moments. Now, extend that -- imagine being sexually aroused, painfully excited, almost all your working day! Constantly on edge, constantly losing yourself in absent-minded, erotic fantasy. That was the situation that 22-year old school secretary Naomi had found herself in for the last two weeks. Every day she dressed her jaw-dropping, hourglass 32F-27-38 body in girlish, cotton panties (always bikini-cut) which contrasted with the pretty bras and stockings she tended to wear under her smart trousers or skirts (medium-grey trousers today, boosted her 5' 4Β½"s with some medium heels and made up her naturally pretty face with its open smile, big, blue eyes and frame of thick, long chestnut hair. Then she went to work, her arousal building on the short drive, pussy moistening slightly, nipples tender, to spend eight hours in a state of total excitement.
The reason for this was her boss, the school's headmistress, 38-year old Christina Holloway, 5'8" of whiplash curves, her 30F-30-39 figure drawing stares, her imperious manner, pale blue eyes and coppery red hair keeping them on her. Naomi had long held three primary sexual fantasies -- she was turned on by needing the toilet, wanted to receive corporal punishment and wanted to have sex with a woman. For the last fortnight, she'd been living in a kinky kind of paradise -- forbidden by her boss from using the toilets during the day, she was usually desperate by lunchtime. Then, at the end of most days (eight times in the 12 work days since the first day) she was reporting to Ms Holloway's office for a daily "assessment" of her work -- an assessment that, for one reason or another, she always failed. On each occasion she'd been punished; spanked, paddled, caned -- it was up to Ms Holloway. Five times she'd lost control and wet her knickers -- three times whilst being scolded before the spanking, the shameful yellow streams running down her legs only intensifying the situation, twice during the punishment itself, Ms Holloway caning her secretary harshly as pee spattered over her desk. And every time it ended with the two voluptuous women having urgent, passionate sex, writhing on the office floor, often in Naomi's puddle with the young secretary's throbbing, red bottom being cooled in her own piss.
Naomi had also been to Christina's house half a dozen times (she was allowed to use her first name outside work, but never in the school office) -- each time they'd had sex and each time Naomi had been crying as their love-making was always preceded by a long and hard spanking. Christina, for her part, was no less pleased and excited by this situation. She was always turned on by punishing girls' bottoms and dominating them and had often wanted a lesbian relationship, and Naomi was so accommodating, accepting harder and harder punishments each time and only ever getting more turned on. She was slightly bemused by her young lover's toilet habits, but was curious about them rather than put off, and had soon got over her knee-jerk squeamishness about getting Naomi's pee all over as they rolled around her office floor. Christina too was finding concentrating on her job was awkward as she spent most of the day watching the clock, awaiting Naomi's nervous shuffle into her office.
It was 3.47pm. Still almost an hour before the students and other staff would go home and Naomi could go into Ms Holloway's office. But Naomi was not certain she could wait that long -- not from excitement (although that was intense -- her pussy felt slippery and her nipples were hardened tips on her heavy breasts) but because her need to go to the loo was building. And this wasn't just a pee. That wouldn't worry her anyway, as Ms Holloway was more than used to Naomi's wetting habits. No, in addition to a desperate need to pee, Naomi's midriff was also tight with pain as she fought a fierce need to go for a poo. She felt sweat at her temples as she scrunched her forehead with the effort needed to overcome the inclination of her bowel to do its job. Her breathing was shallow as she gazed unseeingly at her computer screen, focused on nothing but getting through the remainder of the working day without disgracing herself worse than ever before. She'd not shit her pants in public since she was a child, and was not sure how Ms Holloway would react to discovering her lover had habits even more disgusting than the ones she already knew about.
Naomi absently brushed her hand across her forehead, feeling the sweat-dampened hair at her fringe as another spasm of pain made her whimper out loud. She was never going to make it without going to the loo -- either in an actual toilet or in her pink, cotton panties. Even if she could get all the way to the end of her shift, Ms Holloway would be expecting to see her in her office to check her work for mistakes (Naomi knew they were there as she put them in deliberately so as to 'earn' a punishment) before dealing with her in the customary way. 4.02pm. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl, although the waves of pain and need in Naomi's middle were increasing in occurrence, in defiance of the agonisingly slow tick of the clock. Although the pain was undeniable, her building arousal was also beyond dispute, and, almost without thinking, she stroked her left hand across her chest, the brush of her palm sending shivers of desire through her nipples despite the bra and blouse in between. Gasping, she felt her insides lurch and quickly pressed her hand into her crotch as she nearly lost control.
Every muscle in Naomi's body was clamped down to a single purpose, head bowed, sitting rigidly at her desk, oblivious to the world around her. The crawl of time marched on and the curvy secretary sat, breathing shallow, body buzzing with needs both physical and sensual. It'd passed 4.30pm and the school was actually deserted but for the two voluptuous lovers, but Naomi could not have told you what day it was, let alone what time it was.
In her office, Christina Holloway was bored. She was watching the seconds melt away, interested in nothing but her plans for Naomi. She'd been quite soft with her the last few days, wanting to make sure that her secretary's full, soft cheeks were white and unblemished for tonight -- Friday night was always a big one. Regardless of the 'errors' that she found in Naomi's work, there'd be spanking and then she was going to use a leather belt she'd bought for the express purpose of punishing Naomi's bottom. And then the cane. And then, oh, then the sex. Christina smiled, her sparkling blue eyes glinting with joy as she imagined the next hour or two in detail. Then they'd go home together, back to her house, and spend the weekend making love and making up reasons for Naomi to go over her knee. Not having to worry about being observed or interrupted, Christina slipped a graceful hand inside her skirt, stroking her ginger-furred pussy through her damp, silk panties. She moaned, closing her eyes and rubbing gently as images of Naomi's swinging breasts, big, expressive eyes and red, punished bottom tumbled through her mind. As she masturbated, a vision of Naomi standing in front of her naked but for a pair of jeans formed, heavy breasts available for Christina's salacious gaze. Christina's breath caught briefly as her imaginary Naomi's jeans darkened at the crotch, streams of pee soaking them. Her rubbing at her pussy intensified, though. Was she aroused by Naomi's toilet habits, now? She hadn't realised she was, she thought she'd just indulged them as she wanted the younger girl so badly. But was that the whole truth? Christina came to a sudden orgasm, the images in her mind now a mix of Naomi's punished bottom and Naomi's piss-wet knickers.
Gathering herself, sucking idly at the fingers that had just rubbed herself off, Christina stood on shaky legs. Could she admit to herself that she had quickly grown to enjoy Naomi's pee play? Could she admit that...she wanted to join in? Deciding not to ring her desk, Christina collected her usual demeanour, became the stern and discipline-meting Ms Holloway, and crossed her office, opening the door and intending to call Naomi to come in. Something about the brunette's posture made her hold her tongue at the last second. Naomi did not seem to be aware that the door had opened as she sat, head bowed, perfectly still behind her desk.