Cassy's Awaening

Synopsis : Cassy's work week has been an ordeal, but she's only beginning to realize the extent of the changes in store for her. As Jane's plans continue to unfold, Cassy's career suffers a humiliating blow.

Author note : The following story is part of an ongoing, multi-part series.

As I have in the past, I've done my best to incorporate as many people's suggestions into this chapter, and will continue to do so in future chapters! As a note, I've gotten a LOT of notes and requests! Keep 'em coming, and I'll do my best to get as much as I can as we progress!

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, etc are completely made up, as is the plot.

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Chapter 6 : The Demotion

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It had been two days since my first fateful return to the Office.

That I'd made it through that initial foray had been nothing short of a miracle, but I'd learned a hard and fast lesson on that first day : Don't Challenge Jane.

She was in control. Total control of everything.

Once I'd gotten that into my head... I'd been able to stay afloat in my new world, if only barely.

"Sit!" Isabella stared at me as she issued her command, watching as I fell onto my haunches.

"We're running short on time today," She said, leering at my naked body appreciatively, "I'll get my stuff ready, but you'll have to get started on yourself now, instead of later."

I nodded demurely up at my former Gardener, waiting for her to provide more instruction to me. Isabella smiled, letting me know I'd made the correct call.

"You're getting so good at this," she said, turning to re-enter through the sliding glass door that led from my yard into my house, "One in the ass, one in the cunt today, I think. That should suffice, huh Chica?"

She glanced back once more at me before entering my house, ensuring I'd understood the instructions.

I nodded, and blushed, confirming I had.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, sounding as submissive as I felt. Isabella smiled again, and I watched Colombian beauty disappear into my house, leaving me crouched on the soft grassy lawn of my backyard.

"Fuck..." I muttered as soon as she'd gone. Glancing around instinctively, I once more confirmed that I was alone in the yard.

I was alone. I was naked, and about to finger my ass and cunt while I waited for my gardener to return ; but still... alone nonetheless.

I opened my lips, and without any further hesitation, slid two of my fingers into my mouth.

I suckled them for a quick moment, coating each of my long index fingers in a liberal amount of saliva. It almost felt routine at this point ; a practised action to prepare me for the next step.

When I was thoroughly satisfied that my fingers were wet enough, I reached down, one of my hands making for my cunt, and the other for my ass.

I reached my cunt first, sliding a wet finger in between the naked folds of my pussy and gasping at the warm, slick feeling I found.

God. I'd only been awake for a half hour, and already my body was raring to go.

I blushed again, ashamed, but kept to my task.

My second finger found my ass shortly after the first had gotten to work. Still perched on my ankles with my legs wide open out to the side, my ass was spread and waiting for me, offering no resistance as my wet, saliva slick finger wriggled up against my tight hole.

"FF--fuck!" I grunted again, though this time with a heap of added arousal.

My fingers pushed inside of me, sliding into my poor cunt and ass at the same time. I had to brace myself to keep balanced on my ankles, but I managed ; I'd gotten used to maintaining such a lewd position, after all.

I stared upwards in ecstasy, feeling the early morning sunrise cascading across my naked body as I began to finger-fuck both of my holes under the open sky.

I writhed as I worked, gyrating my hips just enough to aid in my task.

My heavy tits bounced just enough that I could feel my sparkling nipple piercings in their place, locked around my hard, perky nipples-

If I'd had a third hand, I'd have been giving my tits the attention they sorely deserved -

But I had my instructions.

One in the Cunt, and one in the Ass.

I grunted, feeling sweat begin to form in little beads across my body.

Fuck it. Isabella would be giving me a bath later anyways. I could get a little messy.

I closed my eyes, and my fingers increased their tempo, plunging in and out of my holes as I succumbed to desire on the lawn.

"Looks like you're having fun," Isabella's voice rose up again, and my eyes snapped open, "You almost done, little Puta?"

A slut. Isabella was calling me a Slut.

"I-uungh- not yet, ma'am-" I grunted my response, glowing red as Isabella circled me on the lawn, watching my lewd performance, "I need just -- uuungh -- a few more - minutes-"

It was humiliating ; not that I was finger fucking myself on the lawn in front of my former Gardner (though that was not without its own shame) but the fact was that I was asking for permission to continue.

Isabella sighed, teasing me by rolling her eyes.

"Oh, I spoil you..." she said, her sexy thick accent rolling off of her tongue and sending shivers up my spine, "Okay, Cass. One more minute, then we've gotta get to it."

I grunted a thankful response, and kept fucking myself with gusto.

I didn't need a minute, I realized. I was edging already, ready to cum at any moment.

Fuck!

My fingers slid in and out of my eager holes with ease, lubricated now by my own sexed up wetness in addition to the smattering of saliva I'd started with.

"oohfUCK!" I exclaimed, suddenly tensing up. With a frustrated grunt, I yanked my fingers out of me, and collapsed backwards onto the grass.

"Uungh-" I writhed on the grass, tossing my hands out to my sides in a desperate attempt to keep them from returning to their work.

"Looks like you didn't need the extra time after all," Isabella clucked, "Okay, Slut. Get into position, or you're going to be late."

It had almost been a week at this point, and I was getting quite good at following the routine.

As she'd done for the past few days, Isabella had arrived at my house bright and early this morning, excited to perform her new job.

I greeted her naked, waiting in my front foyer, and from there, she'd lead me into my back yard, to prepare me for my work day.

My clothes, my makeup, my bathing regime : these were all her purview now. I was not to make a move unless instructed, and after my initial rebellion on Monday morning, I'd learned no to step out of line.

As I moved to get into position for Isabella, parting my legs and lying back on my own back lawn, I remembered the treatment I'd given her Monday morning.

After a weekend of sordid depravity, I'd begun this week dead-set on rebelling against Jane's control over myself. I'd thought I could buck her power over me ; find a way around her black mail and reassert myself as a controlling, powerful business executive.

I'd begun by kicking Isabella out of my house, demanding that she remain silent about what she'd seen and done over the weekend. I'd hurled no shortage of insults towards her, admittedly some that were rather horrendously directed at her... how should I say this -- her immigration status?

It had been a mistake. That much was an understatement. I'd paid for it throughout the week, in spades.

"Spread them up-" Isabella said, and I obliged, pulling my naked legs open, and stretching them up and out to the sides, "That's good. Get that pussy niccce and spread for me.... you nasty little whore."

I rocked my hips up, presenting as much of my cunt and ass as I could.

"Good girl..." my former gardener said in a sultry voice as she reached in between my legs, and began to slather warm cream against my unguarded pussy.

My mouth fell open at Isabella's touch.

"Oh God...." I moaned, flicking my tongue out to lick my lips as Isabella moved her fingers across my clip, smearing the cream down between my parted ass crack, and up on top of my freshly fingered ass hole.

I licked my lips like a depraved slut, not caring how it looked. Isabella was smiling, I knew, even though my eyes were practically rolled back into my skull.

My body was on fire!

Normally, our routine was reversed. Isabella would shave me, and do my hair and makeup. THEN, after that was complete, I would fuck myself like a slut, "Edging" as she called it, until I was so close to an orgasm I could barely think straight.

Then we'd dress, and I'd head off to work.

But today, she'd let me edge up before she'd gotten to work, and it proved to be much more torturous.

I fought to keep my body from spasming as she touched me. I could feel her cold shaving razor, sliding against my quivering cunt-lips. My poor pussy was practically shivering for attention, desperate to receive anything more than the gentle, teasing brush of the shaver.

"Oh fuck- I'm going to cum-" I shuddered, squeezing my ankles to keep my legs parted and motionless, "Please, Isabella-"

"You better not, Fucker," Isabella spat at me with a mean giggle, "Or Jane's gonna hear about it!"

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to maintain control.

The threat of reporting me to Jane was all I needed to remember my place.

"Speaking of Jane, how's work going, Cassy?" Isabella asked, sliding the razor down in between my spread-open ass and flicking it across my ass hole.

"Uugh- it's going- ughh-" I could barely keep it together, but knew I was expected to respond, "It's going terrible-"

"Oh?" Isabella laughed, wiping up a ticklish drip of shaving cream with her finger, and splattering it back down against my pussy, "Why's that, Cassy? Finding it hard to concentrate lately?"

I shuddered.

"Jane's been - ugh- making my life hell, that's why!" I grunted, breathing heavily in an attempt to keep my pussy from bursting, "She's been fucking with me in the office! I've spent more time dancing around with my tits out that than doing any work!"

Isabella laughed at my admission.

"Oh -- that I'd love to see!" She gleamed, finishing up in between my thighs.

I knew we weren't done. Next up was my 'bath'. Isabella stood up, but I held my position, keeping my legs parted wide and my pussy and ass raised up as best I could.

"She's given me a pile of rules to follow, and she treats me like I'm her personal secretary!" I whimpered, feeling a dam burst inside my mind as I admitted my day-to-day horror show to Isabella, "She has her calls forwarded to my office. She makes me do her paper work. Yesterday, she made me do a strip dance in her office while she ate lunch! It's humilat-aah!"

I yelped as a splatter of soapy goop slapped against my face. Isabella was leaning over me, a shampoo bottle in her hands, and she was splattering its contents down upon me.

"Sounds like fun," Isabella said, kneeling down after I was thoroughly drenched in soapy shampoo. She began to massage it into my body, sudsing it up on my dewy, wet skin.

"It isn't fun!" I protested, shivering at Isabella's gentle caress. She was thorough in her massage, gently ensuring that the soap made it onto every inch of my naked body.

"She's going to get me fired," I mewled, rolling over on command to raise my naked ass in the air for a similar soaking, "She even makes me be nice to our ditsy secretary, Stacy--aahh!"

Isabella had shot a spurt of soap down the length of my ass crack, and it had turned my words into an extended moan.

"Aw, poor Cassy," Isabelle purred, sliding her hand down the crack of my ass and smearing soap up and along the crest of my parted cheeks, "Poor baby has to be nice to her secretary! However will you manage!"

She smacked my ass, sending a splatter of soapy foam flying into the air, and then hopped up to get the hose.

I remained quiet, keeping my ass high and raised, waiting for the inevitable.

My hosing down came and went like every other day. I'd gotten so used to being bathed like this in my lawn, it hardly even felt absurd anymore. I even found it enjoyable, to a certain extent. It was relaxing, stretching my legs and arms out to the side as Isabella used the sprayer to blast every inch of my slutty body down.

After that, we finally found our way back inside... up into my bedroom.

"I think the pink would look nice today," Isabella held out an outfit for me to inspect. Like the others I'd worn the previous few days, it was not one of my own purchase. I'd never purchase -- or wear -- something like this. Not if I'd had once ounce of control.

"It's..." I heard myself begin to protest, but quickly gave up. I'd learned the hard way the past few days that protesting my clothing was pointless. If anything, it risked making things worse.

"It's great," I said, dejectedly taking the outfit from Isabella.

No -- it wasn't an outfit, I grimaced. It was a costume.

And of course the cheap, il-fitting thing was pink.

Ever since my first day back at the office when I'd wrecked my outfit (passionate, extended ass-fucking will do that to a girl...) and had been forced to accept a replacement from Jane, my two tormentors had apparently decided that Pink was MY colour.

Everything they put me in was pink -- or at least, had pink in it. It was like they viewed me as some ditsy barbie doll, or something out of Legally Blonde, and today was no different!

Today was a pink blazer with a white shirt underneath. Neither covered up much of my ample chest, even if they had been buttoned properly -- which they never were.

Completing the look was a short -- a very, VERY short -- miniskirt. It too was pink.

I sighed, stepping through the skirt and letting Isabella pull it up around my hips. Like everything I wore, it was a size or two too small for my body, and she was forced to strain herself to clip the cheap, plastic belt around my voluptuous hips.

"You look cute!" she gleamed at me, stepping back to inspect her work, "Just the shoes, and then we can do your hair -- and get you off to the Office!"

I sighed as she picked out a pair of pink, sparkly high heels, and tossed them towards me.

As I bent down to lace them on, I felt the cool air of the bedroom on my naked ass.

My tiny skirt barely covered any skin at all, I knew. If I did anything but stand perfectly erect, my privates would be put on display for anyone to see... and as always, I wasn't wearing any underwear.

To make matters worse, I was still extremely turned on. I'd left myself on the edge in the yard, and Isabella's gentle shaving-shampoo-bathe had only fuelled the fire.

"Ma'am... this outfit is even worse than yesterday," I said, finally unable to hold my tongue any longer. I risked a polite comment, hoping to nudge Isabella into giving me something slightly more reasonable...

"People are going to start noticing, and commenting..." I said, knowing that ship had long sailed. My increasingly slutty outfits were no doubt well-discussed by both the men and women of the office. It was only due to my lofty status that I hadn't gotten a talking-to already. Everyone was either too stunned, or too nervous, to mention anything.

"Good!" Isabella said, taking a step towards me, "Let's hope they do!"

She flipped up the front of my tiny skirt, and slipped a hand up under it.

"We want everyone to notice you, Cassy," She purred, snaking a finger up against my naked cunt and slipping it between my ever-wet lips, "You're a Star, after all."

I moaned pathetically at her touch, automatically parting my legs and shifting my hips to press against her hand, but she pulled back as quickly as she'd started.

"Now, let's get that hair done up, Sassy-Cassy," she chirped, brazenly lifting her finger to her mouth and licking my wetness of of it.

I shivered, entranced by the erotic display.

"And then your makeup- and then we've got to get you off to work before you're late!"

She got to work... but in the end, we were late any ways.

Not just a little late, either. Previous days I'd showed to my office twenty or thirty minutes late

Today it was forty five minutes after the day had started when I strutted off of the elevator onto my floor!

"Ms. Riley!" Stacy, the secretary, greeted me as I strode up to her desk, "I wasn't sure if you were coming in today!"

The blonde girl was smiling, clearly happy to see me.

"Yes, sorry I'm late..." I said, repeating what was becoming a common phrase of mine, "But I uh, had trouble picking up -- I mean, doing my hair..."

I blushed at my imbecilic statement, but it had all I'd been able to think of in the moment.

This, too, was becoming all to common for me. I found myself unable to think straight, especially with my body so fired up. My excuses were lame, my planning poor...

I was acting like a Bimbo, even though I had no doubts that I was the smartest person on this floor!

"Well, it looks great!" Stacy beamed, inspecting my blonde little ponytail and straight bangs, "Very cute! Sexy and modern!"

I sighed inwardly, hating the fact that Stacy's complement had actually managed to send warm tingles up my spine.

Isabella had dropped me off at the office, leaving me horny as hell, as always... and Stacy's daily inspection of my scantily clad body only sent more depraved thoughts through my head.

"Thanks," I said with a blush, carelessly reaching up without thinking and tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear, "You, uh... you look sexy today too."

Fuck. What the fuck had I just said?

I'd simply been trying to repeat Stacy's own compliment back to her, and it had come out like THAT?!

Like I say -- I was having trouble in the thinking department lately.

Dammit!

Now, Stacy blushed.

I wished I could just brush past her, and race to my office. Before this week, I'd made no secret of the detest I felt towards the college-bimbo who sat behind our floor's receptionist desk.

But Jane had been clear on this particular issue : I was to be nice to Stacy.

Worse, I was to engage her in conversation. At least five minutes, every time I passed by her desk.

It was agony. Especially in the mornings, when I was already running late.

I listened idly as Stacy began going on about her own hair. Something about conditioner, or shampoo -- or whatever the hell the ditsy woman cared about. It didn't matter to me. Stacy always looked the same to me ; like a sporty, fun college girl out to get laid. Her big tits always on display... her long legs hanging out from a short, sexy skirt...

A cheap piece of eye candy for the office, and nothing more.

"LOVE the skirt," she'd moved on to talking about my outfit now, "I could never pull one off like that -- but you've got the figure for it. I'm so jelly!"

I cringed, but the irony was palpable.

There may not have been a brain cell alive in her head, I mused, but in the end, I was dressed even worse than her. My skirt was shorter, my tits were practically spilling out of my top... and I'd just spent the last five minutes gossiping like a valley girl about hairstyles and outfits.

"Hey, Stacy," I said, finding myself fidgeting with another strand of hair as I spoke, and hating myself for it, "I'd LOVE to keep chatting, but I've gotta get to work, mkay?"

I felt as silly as I sounded, but Stacy just nodded.

"Mkay!" she said, answering my comment with a cheery shrug of her shoulders and wide smile, "See you around, Ms. Riley!"

I forced a smile, and moved past Stacy's desk at last.

I could feel her eyes on me as I passed by, watching me walk away.

It sent a pang of arousal up spine imaging her staring at my ass, barely-covered as it was. But there was nothing I could do about that... so I was forced to swish down the hall, hoping the tiny amount of fabric kept me covered up from her prying eyes.

I wished I could spin around and put her back in her place. Last week, I'd have torn her asunder simply for looking at me sideways.