Sandra La Discotheque English

(this is my own translation into english of my first story, ''sandra - la discothèque''...

i thought it could be interesting to share my stories to english-speaking readers as well, as i read and write in both french and english, and am very fond of many english-written stories...)

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...i admit i have a weakness for my Boss... he hired me a few weeks ago, ready to give me a chance in his agency as an assistant, even though i am already a small forty years old woman, while the other assistants are barely 25 to 30 years old and have model figures... but he told me that he found me "charming", joking about the fact that a brunette assistant would change from the current blondes, and that he was sure that i would give him satisfaction...

it did me good to hear that, as i was going through a difficult period, with unemployment for a few weeks, a drop in income, and my relations with my husband becoming more tense... my husband often works in evening, even at night, and the fact that i was around him all day for weeks created tensions and arguments between us, as if my presence during the day bothered him... so i was relieved to find a job...

however, i love my husband, who has always been very "enterprising" with me, both very perverse and very jealous... he has always liked to give me embarrassing, often insulting pet names, especially when he "fucks" me like a "slut", as he likes to tell me in full action... and there's no shortage of action with him... at least in his arms i feel his love for me very well... i feel it mentally, and all parts of my body feel it carnally, powerfully, and deeply... we both love sex enormously, almost violently... so, when i met him after years of wandering which earned me a reputation as a "whore" and a "sucker" from my high school years, i told myself that with him i could consider calming down, and trying to finally become respectable... so when he proposed to me, i said "yes"...

but sometimes i have the impression that he considers me more as his property than as his wife... he likes to see me in tight and short outfits, which inevitably attracts looks full of bad intentions, but he often reminds me that i am his spouse, his wife and his "bitch", belonging to him only... and it's true that this bizarre situation makes me crazy about him... i love the way he fucks me and dominate me in this odious way...

I really think that what fueled his libido, but also his jealousy unfortunately, was my galactorrhea, which gave me a chest that became even larger than before in just a few months... that pleases him to have his own little "milk cow"... he calls me that on purpose to embarrass me, because he knows that it was a mean nickname that girls gave me in high school... it was before the guys at university systematically called me "druuna", a nickname that i found very embarrassing when i learned its origin, but still more flattering...

...but if he teases me with my nickname "milk cow", he does not hide the fact that he appreciates even more my breasts which seem enormous on my small size, and my flows of milk which he loves, and that he likes to trigger as soon as he fucks me... he says that now, my breasts seem almost as big as my buttocks, although fleshy, and that he loves that... i admit that this hormonal disorder is both very awkward and... quite exciting, in certain contexts...

i perceive even more than before the insistent gaze of many men on me, whether i am alone or with my husband... he loves seeing me watched by all these strangers, i know that it even makes him proud, though he doesn't tell me... i know it because he likes me to dress sexy, not only in my lingerie when we're intimate, but also in my wardrobe when i go out with him... he often chooses clothes and bikinis for me that i find quite daring, and which make me feel very exposed when i wear them to please him....and i admit that i also like wearing them... i feel desired by my man, and also by all these men who caress my shapes with their eyes, and deep down that pleases me... but my husband's body features dissuade my "admirers" from approaching me, and he would be happy to quickly eliminate the "competition" with his muscular way... he likes me being looked at, but he couldn't stand me being touched...

this Friday evening, to reward us for a hard week of work, my Boss invited me, with five other colleagues, to a "relaxation outing" to a club...

he warned us at the last moment, and specified that as the other female assistants were not available, i would have the honor of being the only woman in the agency to enjoy this evening... seeing myself very surprised and taken aback by this surprise invitation, he told me not to worry, that i was "perfect" to go out tonight, even in my office outfit (a short skirt suit that had become too tight, but which fit me like a glove before my galactorrhea and my few extra pounds)...

I admit that i feel flattered by the invitation and his appreciation of me, even though i often lack self-confidence, especially compared to my young assistant colleagues...

among other things, i tell myself that going out with them to a nightclub would perhaps make me more "cool" and pleasant in their eyes, because i would like to turn the page on an incident...

unfortunately it turns out that my Boss and my colleagues know about my prolactin problems, because of an important meeting last week... i was, as often since my Boss recruited me, the only assistant, and the only woman, present at this meeting, to "give him the pleasure of being at his disposal", as he says... but as usual, i was very aware of the gazes of all the participants on my sheathed thighs, clearly visible through the glass top of the meeting table, and on the volume of my chest, highlighted by the wide neckline of my blouse... and its curves were all the more prominent as it was leaning on the table, because my small size meant that it was literally placed on it, like a pair of large melons offered on a platter...

in short, as i became more and more aware of this, i no longer knew where to put myself... i began to fidget nervously in my seat, crossing and uncrossing my legs under the large glass table, while feeling an increasingly abundant wetness between my thighs, which i squeezed over my soaked thong... and there, as if to calm me down, my Boss placed on my left placed his big warm hand on one of my thighs, saying "shhhh, little Sandra"... there, jumping with a moan of surprise, i clearly felt a flow of love juice flooding my crotch... my heart beating wildly, i blushed even more, under all their envious and naughty looks....

...this totally unexpected gesture from my Boss, and all these faces devouring me with their eyes, moved me so much that the relief of my nipples became even more visible under the extremely tight fabric of my blouse... especially since the my Boss's hand, still placed on my thigh, caressed me (involuntarily?) each time i crossed my legs...

...so i ended up crossing my arms over my breasts, compressing them a little to try to make myself more "modest"... bad idea... my arms had been pressing my chest for a few minutes, massaging it almost every time i changed position, which stimulated me in spite of myself and made me even more nervous... and wet...

and that's how i let myself be surprised by a surge of milk which began to soil my carmine bra and my white blouse, soaked and becoming viscous under my forearms... it forced me to leave quickly the meeting room, getting up without warning, my arms crossed under my chest trying to hide my big breasts with my small hands, while we were in the middle of an exchange with these important clients...

coming back from the toilet, all red with shame, i put my suit jacket back on without buttoning it (I can't button my jackets anymore, but i can't replace them all yet), and i walked, keeping my butt towards the wall to hide my behind... in fact, i had seen in the bathroom mirror that my short beige skirt was clearly stained by my abundant leaks of love juice... but you could still see between the tails of my jacket that my blouse was soaked and stuck to my skin, because of the splashes from my clumsy attempt at cleaning... my Boss, with his severe air which makes him strangely handsome, asked me to justify this very rude departure and this "sloppy outfit", and demanded that i apologize to our customers, to my colleagues, and of course to himself... after asking them to accept my sincerest apologies ("flattest excuses" as we say in french), i was obliged to explain to them that i had left so hastily because of a hormonal disorder having soiled my blouse...

my Boss, very perplexed, ordered me to be more explicit... taken aback, i lifted the tails of my jacket to show them my blouse that i had cleaned with soapy water to dilute my milk stains... but as i looked down at their stunned faces, i saw that my wet blouse adhered so much to my opulent breasts that we could see very clearly the shape of my nipples, erect and still engorged with milk, through the fine lace of my carmine bra which had become partially visible... i blushed until my ears burned when i saw their strange, almost unhealthy looks... i looked down, on the verge of tears... but my Boss lightened the mood by joking about the fact that they were finally lucky, because "Some things are not as flat as the excuses of our little Sandra", while patting my thigh with his big hand... they all laughed, too loudly, and i felt very humiliated, but at the same time a little relieved that they seemed to forgive me, especially when my Boss stroked my hair to get it out of my face...

since this incident, therefore, i really don't know where to put myself in the agency when i come across my Boss and my colleagues, whose insistent looks seem enigmatic to me, but above all lustful...

...i may be imagining things, but sometimes i have the impression that they read inside me, as if they knew what kind of unspeakable erotic fantasies i was hiding deep inside... yet, when i go to adult sites with my work laptop, i always use private browsing...

...so finally, on a whim to try to forget this humiliating incident and make myself more sympathetic in their eyes, i agree to accompany my Boss and my five colleagues... on the other hand, it's obviously a tragedy for me when i isolate myself in an empty office to telephone my husband, telling him that i am detained at the office all evening, for an indefinite period, because of a very sensitive and very urgent matter... but i promise him, to coax him, that when i return he will be able to take my mouth in an "extreme" way, as he likes, my arms crossed behind my back, totally submissive to his rhythm as he ravages my throat..

feeling that he doubts my pretext, i add more, simpering like a stupid bimbo, assuring him that i am and remain his slut, and that he can take revenge for my absence tomorrow by sodomizing me like the worst bitch, the way he really likes, tying my arms behind my back... but even that promise can't calm him down, and we both get angry... i know i'm forced to lie to him because of his jealousy, but i still feel very guilty and ashamed once i hang up on him, angry and too tested by his harsh comments... especially after he told me, for the tenth time at least, that he hopes that i am not going to "be a slut" with someone else, and that i must not forget that i am his "milk cow" and his "slut", to him alone... i put my phone on silent so he doesn't harass me by calling me back, and i join my Boss and my colleagues, my eyes still wet from this telephone argument...

...leaving the office and seeing all six of them in the doorway, with enigmatic smiles, i realize that they probably heard everything, including my lie and my obscene promises, and i tremble and blush... then my Boss gently but firmly wraps his arm around my shoulders (how small and fragile i feel against his large body, almost as muscular as my husband's!), and he whispers in my ear: "Don't worry, my little Sandra, you deserve much better in your life, and I'm going to prove it to you tonight."

...and his warm breath, caressing my ear and my neck, gives me shivers...

...deep down, without admitting it to myself, i also see this clubbing as the best way to spend some time with my Boss outside the office, in a context where i would like to appear as interesting to him, and perhaps even as desirable, than the young women of the agency, even if instead of a real evening outfit, i remain dressed in my office skirt suit, fortunately quite sexy...

but once i arrive with them at this nightclub that i had never heard of, while i am offered a glass of vodka at the bar by my Boss to "relax" after my argument, i notice that apart from the hostesses at the entrance, there are strangely no women, neither on the dance floor, nor at the bar, nor on the sofas... there are only tall guys, apparently of all origins and skin colors, some of whom even look like gangsters... so i feel very embarrassed, dressed so short and so tight in my short skirt suit, with my body of a small, luscious woman perched on my high heels... but my Boss and my five colleagues, who look very relaxed, continue to chat with me at the bar, while offering me more glasses of vodka, still according to them to "comfort" me after my argument with my husband... then, all six of them lead me onto the floor, and surround me to dance around me...

...so, now feeling much more relaxed and a little "pompette", which means half-drunk in french, i too begin to dance among them, eyes closed, as if abandoned, swaying my hips lasciviously to the beats of electro, hip-hop and reggaeton... sometimes, i feel hands brushing against me, or perhaps caressing me, but i feel too good at the time to balk and spoil this pleasant and rare moment of total relaxation... at after a few dozen minutes, i'm already sweating... and suddenly, realizing that at least four to five different hands are now caressing me with much more insistence, even on my chest and my buttocks, i reopen the eyes to see who are the ones gratifying me, and to remind them that i am married...

...horror... caught in my delirium as an inveterate dancer, i did not notice that all the other guys in the club, around us, stopped dancing, and gathered around our group... worse yet, most of them have taken their penis out of their pants, and masturbate while watching me dance... i of course wanted to feel "cool", attractive and even desirable to my Boss by coming here, but i don't want to be the object of the disgusting lust of so many great unknown brutes... i turn to my Boss and my colleagues, questioning them and imploring them with my eyes, but they just smile as they undo their belts...

trying to pull myself together despite the haze of alcohol which is making me a little slow-witted, i decide to end the experiment here and leave the dance floor... but too late... at a sign from my Boss, as if they had agreed before, my five colleagues grab me firmly and hold me... some pull my hair, others hold my arms... i suddenly feel other hands that start to run along my body and lift my tight skirt, which ends up sliding with difficulty over my plump buttocks and remains wrapped around my waist... horrified, i hear their exclamations and their comments when they see my buttocks, exposed between my raised skirt and the elastic garters of my dim-up stockings, and gripping the black lace of my thong...

they then grab the top of my blouse and pop all the buttons, exposing my black lace supported chest too, from which my breasts almost overflow... other hands lower it angrily and leave it holding under my breasts, which thus find themselves totally exposed in an obscene manner, with my nipples erected by the extreme tension which invades me now... tension aggravated by their hands which begin to triturate and knead all the parts of my chest, which makes me feel the beginning of milk coming up... their terrible massages continue tirelessly, my breast flesh is continually squeezed and kneaded... my nipples are pinched, licked, twisted, sucked, nibbled and aspirated... i really feel like a cow having its udders milked... or like the victim of vicious vampires thirsty for lactose... and soon this terrible treatment triggers an uncontrollable eruption of thick milk... under the continuous and intense pressure of all these eager hands, my milk, which has become more fluid, begins to squirt in jets, a good part of which splashes my body...i quickly become covered in my own milk from head to toe...

...while trying to struggle against this savage horde, i feel powerful arms grabbing my thighs and spreading them above a man who has just lain down... he is immense, very strong, and his penis continues to swell visibly, like an ebony pillar... i can't believe my eyes... i then suppose, in a brief flash, that these men must all be porn actors, their penises seem so gigantic...despite the loud music continuing to play, i suddenly realize that i am shouting...insults, requests for pity...everything goes, but nothing helps, on the contrary... it even seems that this makes them even more aggressive... they force me to kneel above the lying colossus, while holding my arms apart, which makes my breasts, sticky with milk and red from their milking, exposed even more clearly... i have the impression of being the victim of an obscene crucifixion...

... it's at this moment i think back to my shameful and secret readings, which seem to come to fruition in a way i never thought possible... the horrible scenes of the Marquis de Sade, the crudest passages of Virginie Despentes, the countless stories of Literotica... for a moment, i have the impression of being caught in a nightmare where my most shameful fantasies come true...

...i now feel many tongues licking my milk from the bare parts of my body, including the skin of my thighs where they have already torn my stockings... hands continue to knead my breasts which have become slippery with milk and saliva, fingers and mouths continue to triturate and milk my nipples to make me squirt even more milk, others caress me or slap my buttocks... and i realize that my vagina, very wet, begins to drip love juice... i am stunned... suddenly i feel the fabric of my thong sink between my lips, soaked in spite of myself, almost lifting me from the ground, and then i feel and hear it ripped in a prolonged crunch... with tears in my eyes, i start to scream more loudly...

...men placed near my face come and whip it with their rigid and heavy cocks, and one of them takes advantage of my mouth, open on my moans and howls, to roughly slide in, while hands grab my hair and my face to force me not to turn my head... i feel my mouth invaded by this very large glans, followed by this column of hard flesh, long and thick, which soon hits the entrance to my throat like a ram breaking down the door of a castle... these thrusts end up forcing my passage, which causes me spasms making me regurgitate streams of viscous saliva... this monster pounds my mouth and throat like angrily, and i can only breathe when it comes out partially to plunge back in, each time letting my saliva burst out of my mouth in thick, sticky streams...

...at the same time, at the other end, i feel many hands fiddling with me and spreading my buttocks, then i feel fingers recovering my dripping love juice, and bringing my slippery fluid up towards my anus... a insistent finger coats it with my secretions and begins to sink in... unable to scream because of this enormous cock that i am forced to swallow, i moan angrily... i am so contracted that it is already painful... but another finger soon joins it, followed by another... they begin to move back and forth in my anus while pulling my sphincter to the sides in an attempt to widen it... my legs gradually weaken due to fatigue, and tremors of excitement prevent me from controlling my body... the enormous glans of the guy under me begins to force the lips of my vagina... i scream in silence against the cock which almost suffocates me, not really from pain but rather from apprehension, but i nevertheless feel a strange pleasure invading my womb, like hunger...