Bestiality horse fuckers.
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"How much?" I countered to Andy's surprise "You're serious?" "Yes, why not?" "What, I can ask her to do anything?" "Yes" "Anything at all?" "Yes." I smiled at him as he struggled to spot the catch. He made a swift decision. "A tenner then"
"OK" I shrugged "Easy money" gloated Andy as I called Debbie from the kitchen. She came through promptly, standing at the head of the polished table awaiting instruction. "Debbie" started Andy; she looked at him briefly,
"Tim seems to think you'll do anything Ill ask. You wont be offended?" She shook her head. "Take off your t-shirt" he commanded, slightly nervously, waiting for the indignant insult from Debbie. It never came.
Instead, her face drained of its colour and she began to tremble slightly as my plans started to become apparent. The room had gone silent, Andy, puzzled at the way in which she had taken his request, the rest of the room waiting to see what would happen.
"I've, got a better idea," I began turning to my slave, "Why don't you climb up on this table, and remove ALL your clothes?" It was Andy's turn to go pale this time. He was normally a chivalrous man, opening doors, that sort of thing, but his testosterone prevented him from intervening on Debbi's behalf. He wanted nothing more than to see the body he had been sneakily glancing at all night in the flesh, and unbelievably, the chance seemed to be looming.
"How about it?" I addressed Debbi, coolly With a furtive, desperate glance at me, she clumsily climbed on to the table, a perverse centrepiece, and her bare feet leaving footprints in the polished surface as she shuffled to the middle.
Six pairs of eyes looked up at her expectantly, silent, hardly daring to believe that she would comply. Andy in particular seemed to be literally holding his breath. I watched the tears prick her eyes, gazing hopefully at me, desperate for a reprieve. She was met with a cold stare as I, like the rest of the crowd, waited for the show to begin.
She sighed, resigning herself to her task, and closing her eyes in an attempt to pretend that she was alone she tentatively began to lift her t-shirt over her head. Instantly, freed from the restraining material, they fell forward, full and round, her pink rosy nipples pert and slightly erect with embarrassment.
There was a sharp intake of breath from around the table as she let the garment fall to the polished wood, and an audible gasp from Andy. It was not unusual fir women to become partially naked at my parties, but it was usually under the influence of a great deal of alcohol, fleetingly temporary, and always but always done voluntarily.
Even those guests who were aware of Debbie's status were shocked at her level of apparent obedience, and they remained silent, expectantly waiting for the next move. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, my slaves' hands moved to the waist band of her jeans, gently unbuttoning the fly and with reluctant limbs, every instinct telling her that this was wrong, she began to pull her denims over her round smooth buttocks and across her thighs, painfully aware that while bending, she was offering Graham a close up view of her bottom and plump labia, and Andy the benefit of the sight of her swinging breast, inches from his face.
I smiled, her face had reddened to a deep scarlet, which was spreading across her neck and shoulders. Her eyes damp with tears she hung her head in shame, desperately humiliated by her incongruous position on the table, surrounded by so many fully clothed strangers.
Jamie rolled over and looked at the clock as she turned off the alarm. 7:15 a.m. God, it was early. Now why had I set my alarm, she wondered. Oh yeah, that darn project. The conference room. And him. It was all coming back to her now. She blushed as she thought about what had happened the night before. She couldn't believe she'd been so brazen and so wanton, telling him how badly she wanted him to just fuck her. But God, what he had done to her was just... just... well, she couldn't even bring herself to think about it.
See you at nine, he'd said. Shit, she didn't want to face him again. How could she, knowing that he'd turned her over his lap, spanked her, and then fingered her to an orgasm that left her weak in the knees and left a wet spot on his pants? She'd rather die than face him again.