Chapter 3:
After tendering her resignation, Jasmine hurried to the shop. It was in an extremely seedy part of Chinatown, which Jasmine would have had no other reason to visit other than the fact that Nicole had ordered her to. Nicole had told her to be there by 10, and she was already running late.
“Um.. Hi. I’m here to pick up a package for Jasmine?” she told the young goth-looking girl at the counter, who glared at her before stalking to the back of the shop.
As Jasmine was in a hurry, she proceeded to the next item on her agenda instead of waiting for the girl to return. She was supposed to pick out a number of outfits. In fact, a lot of outfits, as Nicole had informed her in no uncertain terms that her entire wardrobe was to undergo a change.
Nicole had of course provided Jasmine (slave) with a number of strict guidelines. Broadly, she was only permitted dresses and slingshot-teardrop thongs.
Jasmine searched for dresses first. First of all, the dresses had to have spaghetti straps. Her arms were not to be covered at all times. In addition, the dress could only extend to half an inch ABOVE the curve of her ass. In other words, the “tips” of her ass had to be clearly visible at all times, not to mention when she bent over. Every single dress was not just body contact but constricting her curvy body. Then, the dress had to be 1 size SMALLER than whatever fitted the above requirements. Of course, this necessitated a number of trips to the changing room, and after a couple of minutes she noticed that the shop assistant had returned to the counter with a sealed cardboard box. Jasmine figured she would deal with it later and picked out 20 dresses that suited Nicole’s demands. She was under no illusions, a low class hooker would have been put to shame by the skimpy clothing.
Then, Jasmine turned her attention to the swimwear section. This was much easier as there was an entire shelf labelled “Slutdrops”. The teardrops on the slingshot bikini were barely visible, inch-thick at the widest for the nipples which quickly tapered into nothing, and an inch-and-a-half “pussy-strap” which became a thong too soon, so much so that the end was literally digging into her pussy when she put it on. Nothing was left to imagination, and Jasmine quickly noticed that her pussy was almost completely visible. It made things worse that Nicolette had told her to get an M when an L was the right fit for Jasmine’s big tits and curvy ass. Literally, only the width of her slit and her nipples were covered. WHORE, screamed the mirror in the changing room. She picked up a couple of bright red and silvery white ones as ordered.
After making payment at the counter, Jasmine had turned to leave but was promptly stopped by the shop assistant. “Leave your bra and panties here. Nicole says she knows you would not have obeyed her and you will be punished accordingly.” the teenager said.
Horrified, Jasmine frowned and replied, “What do you mean?”
“I really don’t have time for games, you stupid woman. I said leave your bra and panties here. Full-stop.”
Sighing, Jasmine knew that she had no choice. Yes, Nicole had told her that the no-underwear rule was in force from last night, but she had had to tender her resignation this morning! She could not imagine visiting her (ex-)office with no underwear on, so she had decided to put on proper undergarments and had hoped that Nicole would not find out. Clearly, Nicole knew her better than she thought. She slowly put down the bags and walked to the changing room again.
“No, here. She said here.” the young shop assistant continued.
“What the fuck. You little brat.. How dare you!” Jasmine replied, enraged.
And Jasmine received a slap on the face by the teenager who was probably 10 years her junior. “Nicole said you might need some convincing. So here goes. You do it, don’t do it, that’s up to you. But if you don’t strip naked and hand me your bra and panties HERE, I’ll tell Nicole, like she told me to. And she said you’ll be dealt with accordingly. Something about.. homemade porn?” the goth-girl said.
ordless and defeated, Jasmine stripped in the middle of the seedy shop and handed her bra and panties to the girl. Thankfully, the shop had no visitors at the time. Jasmine figured that covering herself up with her hands would be futile, but quickly reached for her dress. But the girl continued to speak, grinning, “Well, Nicole said that if you did strip, I was to tell you that you are to leave your dress and shoes here. You can use the red one.”
Confused and humiliated, Jasmine did not bother asking what “the red one” meant. But she had no choice but to slowly unwrap the box while the teenager grinned snidely at her big tits and freshly shaved pussy. When she finally managed to get the box unwrapped and opened, she saw that it contained two dresses and two pairs of extremely high heels. The only difference was that one of each was bright red and the other white. She hurriedly slipped on the red spaghetti-strapped dress. Immediately, she noticed that the dress was even more whorish than the dresses that she had picked out herself. The back of the dress was completely bare, aside from the spaghetti straps that extended all the way to the tight piece of cloth covering her ass. It would be obvious that she was not wearing a bra of any kind. In fact, from the back, she looked as though she had on a slingshot bikini above the hip. Furthermore, to suggest that the tight piece of cloth covered her ass was an overstatement. A huge slit right in the middle of the “skirt-portion”, combined with the tightness, meant her ass crack was almost visible. Because of how tight the dress was, the flimsy and thin spaghetti straps held the front in place, but it was still stretched taut across her big tits. At least, Jasmine mused, she was reasonably covered in front. She then proceeded to slip on the identically bright red pair of 6-inch high heels, trying to avoid looking at her slutty reflection in the mirror.
Jasmine hurriedly gathered her old clothes and shoes and dumped them on the counter, before hurrying out of the shop. She was still late, she was supposed to have been at the next stop at 12. The shop assistant’s loud laughter echoed after her.
She got her nails painted at the next shop; a matching shade of what was called “FKME RED” as ordered by Nicole. It did not escape her attention that Nicole had chosen a colour for her that was almost identical to the colour of her dress and her heels. Then, she cursed herself for actually appreciating her tormentor’s artistic talent. She also purchased the FKME RED lipstick, which she hurriedly applied in the car before heading to her next destination.
The next stop was a sex-toy shop. The pimpled teen at the counter almost spilled his coffee, seeing the walking wet dream entering the shop. Jasmine blushed, but walked quickly to the counter.
“I need a.. Uh.. Sybian. And a.. er. Monkey. No, a Monkey-Rocker, I mean.” she said, trying to keep her voice low.
“Uh.. Uh..” the teen stammered.
“Please hurry, please..” Jasmine said, frowning. She was supposed to have been home by now.
“Ok, could you fill out your.. Part.. Particulars?” he slipped her a form, all the while not taking her eyes off her voluptuous chest.
Wondering if her nipples could be seen through the thin and taut fabric, Jasmine hurriedly filled in the form. Nicole had ordered her to ensure that the delivery was made to Jasmine’s own home, and she was still lost as to how she would explain the erotic equipment to Sam. She figured that she would cross that bridge when she got there.
“So.. A Sybian and a Monkey-Rocker.. Yeah? Anything else?” the teen seemed to have found his tongue.
“Yes. I need a ROCKHARD PACKAGE.” Jasmine said, not even sure what it was, but obeying Nicole all the same.
The young man’s eyes bulged. “Whaaat?” he said.
“I need a ROCKHARD PACKAGE as well.” she repeated.
“Oh! Sorry. I thought you were referring to something else.. The Rockhard Package, delivered weekly to the same address as well?” apparently some blood was finally flowing to his brain instead of his clearly stiff erection.
“Er. Yes.” Jasmine paused, her curiousity was piqued, “Actually, what is the Rockhard Package?”
“You don’t know what the Rockhard Package is, but you’re getting it?” he asked, slightly taken aback.
“Uh.. Yeah. It’s a dare. So..” Jasmine used the first lame excuse that popped into her mind.
“Oh, well.. the Rockhard Package is our biggest and best collection of porn magazines. So if you sign up for the Rockhard, you immediately get registered with all our partners. And they will send you their magazines every week at a discount! I mean, this dare thing is temporary right? Do you really want to get the Rockhard?” he actually seemed concerned.
“Yes, yes..” Jasmine replied slowly. More to explain to Sam about, but she had no choice after all.
“Alright, you’re all set then. The two machines should reach you within the next two days, and the magazines this weekend, and every weekend after.”
“Thank you!” Jasmine practically ran out of the shop after making payment.
“I’d.. We’d.. love to see you again..” came the young man’s voice.
Jasmine got home at 2. She was an hour late, and the van was already parked outside her house. Parking her car in the driveway, she ran as fast as she could, perched on the slutty high heels, and rapped smartly on the driver’s door. The workmen were pissed, complaining that they had had to wait for Jasmine for the past hour. Even her skimpy attire and effusive apologies did not seem to appease them.
“Please, please, just come in and do the job. I know you have to get it done today and we’re both on a tight schedule. I’m so sorry you nice men had to wait for me..”
Finally, after much dissing and complaints, the two men in the front got out and opened the back of the van. There were another three Latino-looking men in the back, and they began to gather their equipment. Jasmine honestly had no idea what Nicole had arranged for them to set up, but she hoped that they would be quick.
She was leading the men to the front door and had just reached into her handbag for her keys when, to her horror, she realized what would happen next. It had only just hit her.
“Erm. Do you nice men mind waiting for a while? There’s something I need to do.” she said softly.
“WHAT?! We already waited for you for an hour.” the leader, Ramirez, frowned at Jasmine who was beginning to bun up her hair.
Blushing profusely, Jasmine swiftly stripped off her skimpy dress and heels. Then, she removed her wedding ring and slid it slowly into her pussy. It took her less than 20 seconds. Then, naked as the day she was born and surrounded by 5 strangers, Jasmine got into her favourite position on the front porch, completely exposed.
The silence was deafening and the jaws of the workmen immediately dropped. They could not take their eyes of Jasmine’s beauty posing in such an erotic position in front of them completely naked. Her big tits were thrust out, as though begging for them to stare and admire them. It was only her pink and smoothly shaved pussy that could distract them from the succulent melons.
Jasmine was actually shell-shocked herself. She had not put two and two together last night, but she had finally realized that Nicole had all along planed for her to be naked while the workmen did their work because they would be doing the work in the house after all. She was just hoping for the 30 seconds to pass quickly, when..
“You’re really one dirty whore, aren’t you?” one of the workmen, Jerri - from his nametag, had roughly grabbed one of her big tits.
“Get in there, we’re going to give you one hell of a pounding.” another, Christian, had grabbed her by the shoulders and began pushing her towards the door.
“No, please, please. I need 30 seconds. Please, just wait.” the naked Jasmine begged.
The men laughed at her comments. “Well, if you enjoy being naked in public so much..” Ramirez said. To be fair, they did allow her to stand in her favourite position without much disturbance aside from manhandling her tits and pussy.
But as soon as 30 seconds were over, they demanded that she open the door. They grabbed her roughly by the legs and tits and threw her on the sofa. Trying to buy some time, Jasmine cooed, “Get your pants off, you lot of strong men. Then give the cocks to me.” She slid her fingers into her pussy to retrieve her wedding ring.
Needless to say, no work was done within the first two hours. However, a horny and busty naked Jasmine was well-done and covered in cum by the end of it all. It was a good gangbang, even if, despite her 3 orgasms, Jasmine would have been the last to admit it. Through her deep breaths, she said to the men almost pleadingly, “Can we get the job done now? Please, I’m really on a tight schedule..”
Ramirez inserted two fingers deep inside her wet and slimy pussy, before remarking, “Not so tight anymore, I think!”
He unceremoniously stuck his finger into Jasmine’s mouth. She had no choice but to obediently suck his finger, which was covered in a mixture of cum from the workmen and her own, clean.
At least the men began their work while Jasmine cleaned herself off in the toilet. “I’ve just been fucked in my house by 5 strangers..” she tried to come to terms with how far she had fallen. Her mouth and pussy were very sore.
When she emerged, she realized, to her horror, that the job that Nicole had arranged for was an extensive surveillance system all over her house. Pinhole cameras were being hidden in nooks and crevices, such that the entire house could be observed. Sighing, she did not bother speaking to the men and tried to ignore their comments about “THEIR well-used fucktoy”. Of course, she had to remain naked per Nicole’s instructions and the men enjoyed the view.
She proceeded to the next step of her instructions. She had planned to complete it when she first reached home, before the workmen (now, “camera-men”, as she realized) had arrived. But, since she had been late, she had to do it now. She removed all her old clothes from the wardrobe, beginning with underwear and ending with her sexy work clothes - sexy by normal standards, but pale in comparison to the whore attire that she had purchased today. All were packed into boxes for disposal. It took longer than she expected, but frequent spanks on her tanned ass were enough to distract her from mourning about throwing away her clothes. Having to stop and pose in her favourite position for the men to take pictures of her completely naked form was also disruptive.
Nicole wanted her to replace her clothes with her new purchases - “sluttire”, as she had called it with a laugh. Jasmine realized that, between rushing to the workmen’s van like a crazed woman and being fucked like a cheap whore, she had left her new apparel in the car. Sighing, she picked up the red dress that one of the men had “kindly” brought in and cast aside on the floor, and walked towards the main door.
“LOOK GUYS. The kinky slut is going out naked again!” Jerri shouted loudly.
The evening breeze whistled past her as Jasmine stepped out on the porch and a fresh wave of humiliation washed over her naked body. She felt relieved that she could finally put on clothes again, even if it was just the slutty dress and heels.
It was just as well that her new purchases were small and skimpy, and hence lightweight. But, perched on her extremely high heels, Jasmine decided to make two trips. She first carried the box containing her “white outfit” and new make-up to the doorstep. However, she paused at the doorway, groaning softly, realizing that she had to strip naked if she was to bring the first batch of items into the house. She decided to set the things down on the porch and grab the rest before entering.
Naturally, the workmen on the first floor got to witness the sight of the busty Jasmine stripping naked and posing in her favourite position on the door step again. Jasmine almost rolled her eyes as they rushed forward like teenage boys to take pictures with the exhibitionist in the erotic position. Of course, her big tits were squeezed and shaved pussy stroked, and everything was photographed for posterity.
After 30 seconds, she walked into the house, dumping the box and bags near the front door. The workmen, laughing at “their kinky Jas tart”, continued their work as Jasmine refilled her wardrobes on the second floor with her sluttire. Passing by her shoe cabinet on the first floor, she remembered Nicole’s instructions and added her old shoes to the boxes that were marked “For Disposal”, replacing them with the two pairs of slut-heels that she had just received today. Nicolette had told her to take everything out, except for a pair of sports shoes, and she obeyed.
Shortly after she was done, Ramirez called out to her, “Slut, we’re done.”
Jasmine took a brief look at the ceiling and walls. They had done a good job, she figured, as she could not see where the cameras were any longer. She was actually half-hoping that Nicole had just sent them to fuck her, and the surveillance was just a muse.
“Uh. Ok. How much will that be?” the naked Jasmine asked.
“Well.. $4,500 for the system and wiring. And say.. $1000 for using our cocks. EACH. So that will be $9,500 in total.” Ramirez sneered.
Jasmine gasped. What a scam! The tools were actually trying to charge HER for fucking her.
Yet, defeated, she replied, “Alright, alright..” It was hard to negotiate when she were naked and standing with her legs a foot apart, with 5 pairs of eyes boring deep into her voluptuous tits and smooth pussy. Sighing, she signed off on a cheque and handed it to the man.
Thinking they were about to leave, she turned around and was about to go upstairs and get the things she needed for her next stop. She was supposed to have been there at 5:30pm, and it was already 6.
Suddenly, she was faced with 3 muscular men. Quick footsteps behind her told her that the other 2 were surrounding her from the back.
Trying to assume any kind of poise was hard when her naked body was completely exposed, and Jasmine stammered, “Wha.. What’s going on? What do you want?”
“Get on your knees, you horny bitch. You’re going to suck our cocks one more time.” Jerri rasped assertively.
Of course, Jasmine had no choice. She was soon faced with 5 already stiff cocks as she knelt down like a cheap slut. She tried to service 3 at once, one in her mouth and one in each hand. After a few minutes, she heard one of the men order, “Get your cunt up. We want to fuck you on your bed.”
Jasmine didn’t even bother protesting. She got up slowly, and, still holding a cock in each hand, walked swiftly up the stairs to her room. It was certainly a sight to behold, a naked beauty leading 5 horny men to her bedroom. The fact that she was leading 2 of the men using their cocks made it seem as though SHE was the one demanding a good hard fucking, further emphasizing the erotic scene.
The moment they were in the bedroom, she was quickly thrown on the bed.
An hour later, a completely naked, her face covered in fresh cum and even more leaking out from her well-used pussy, waved goodbye to the workmen’s van. They had ordered her to stand in the doorway and wave to them.
Jasmine knew that Sam was working late today, but it was almost 8 and “late” meant that he would be back soon. Resigned, she knew that she would not be able to make it to her last stop for the day, and decided to face the music from Nicole the next day. She hurried up the stairs, realizing to her horror that there were a few cum drops on the floor, possibly from her leaking pussy. Even worse, her bed was slightly wet from sweat and cum…. … …
Quote:
Originally Posted by
wuxi
Jemma - thanks for sharing nice story.
Thank you for your comments.
Sorry everyone !
Am currently in an outskirt part of town near Hong Kong on a project. Network here is very unstable and therefore not possible to upload any pictures for the story. Please accept my apologies.
Will update you again when project completed. Probably by next weekend.
In the meantime, I will try to update the story when I have the time and stronger network.
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She pondered the situation for a moment, then reached for her phone and gave Sam a call. “Hey baby,” she cooed, “Are you on your way home? Do you mind picking up a roast chicken from that place I like at the mall for me? Yes, I got home early and I have a surprise for you. See you in a bit baby.”
Sam had just left the workplace, and his having to pick up the food would give her about an hour more, she calculated. Barely enough time. She hastily washed up in the bathroom. She wished she would have time to have a proper shower, but did her best to wash out her used and cum-filled pussy as well as scrubbed her face clean of cum. She brushed her teeth thoroughly hoping that the salty smell would be covered up. Then, she hurried to the bedroom and changed the sheets and blankets. She had just picked up the mop when she heard the familiar sound of Sam’s car in the driveway.
Jasmine sprinted down the stairs, her big tits flopping noisily. She latched the door from the inside and waited for Sam to walk up to the porch.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m trying to move something about, and its currently blocking our door. Could you give me a couple of minutes? Maybe you could take a look at the utilities meter in the garage that’s been wonky recently?” she used the first excuse that came to mind.
“Sure, baby. Don’t worry about it. But if you need me to help you, I can always come in from the back!”
“No!! No!!” Jasmine replied, before forcing herself to sound calm, “No, it’s fine. See you in a bit!”
She hurriedly gave the floor a quick mop, before rushing to the bathroom again to wipe off the slight sheen of sweat that covered her naked body. Then, she applied a thin coat of FKME RED on her lips.
Sam was greeted at the doorway by the sight of his beautiful wife, completely naked. The lights were turned off, and she sultrily rubbed his forearm, pulling him in.
“I got home early today.. Showered..” Jasmine brought Sam’s hands to her big tits, “Shaved..” - dragged his fingers over her smooth pussy - “and then cleaned up our place like a good maid.. Now.. I think it’s time for you to treat me like one..” she finished.
Sam loved his wife, and most of all, she was an extremely good fuck. That night, she seemed a little more physically sensitive than usual, sometimes gasping aloud when he squeezed her big tits or rubbed her pussy roughly. Well, she had always liked it rough, he reasoned, and thought nothing of it.
Jasmine faked a loud orgasm that night, but the feeling of her husband’s warm seed spurting into her pussy made her feel slightly less dirty, as though the mixture of 5 different workmen’s cum from just over an hour ago was being washed out….
END of this storyline….
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X Café
Here I share with you a short Erotic Tale while I gather another series of Hardcore Storyline for you next weekend….. ….
A young woman (POV) invites a customer from the café she works at into her bedroom. But he’s not the only guest…. ….
It was all about the sex, and the sex was always fine. There was a lot of it. I was constantly buoyed along in the afterglow of one orgasm or another. I walked in a fog of sex. I was distracted by it. I bumped into things. There were always bruises. I looked at everyone as a potential partner and it was right to feel this way. Finally my world had caught up to me. I no longer felt like a secret predator, hiding my lust behind a friendly façade. I felt more honest like this. I flirted with intent.
On this occasion, it was all about the timing. I was at the One Street house, our house, clothed in evening wear. High boots and a dress that billowed. There was opera on the stereo. All this because I couldn’t bear the idea of washing up, a job I hated and rarely completed without the theatre of the dress and the music. I made a performance of it, treating myself to sips of chilled wine between each burnt-bottomed pan.
When he arrived the last of the dishes was dripping foam into the precarious pile by the sink. The door was open and he stood in the lounge room and the muslin cloth was flapping in a hot breeze and I turned around and it was like a scene from some movie. Him so beautiful, me in my evening gown and my rubber gloves, the opera screaming to an exquisite climax.
I almost laughed, the poetry of the moment struck me as comical. I had given him my address but I didn’t expect he would find me. He was a customer at the café and every time I spotted him perched on one of the cane stools I became inept. I dropped cups, fumbled cakes off their plates; once I even dropped a whole tray, hot with dishes just washed.
So I didn’t try to speak to him when he stood in my lounge room. I took my clothes off, standing in boots and bra as the opera quietened to a duet.
I walked past him into the bedroom where our king-sized futon kissed three of the walls and when he stumbled out of his trousers I noticed that his penis was too large. He was a tall man, and I was short enough to approach it warily. I could only fit a fraction of it in my mouth. I rolled the condom part of the way using my lips, but I was forced to back off, finish the job with my fingers. It was the first time this had happened to me. I wondered if it would hurt.
I was wet, which was unusual. I am not the kind of girl you read about in pornographic magazines, oozing juices. My excitement leaves me perhaps a little damp. Even after orgasm there is no more than a discreet slick, just enough to give a slippery edge. I like the feel of lubricant and face cream and spit, but I am like a desert, hot and fierce with passion but with only a hazy glimpse of moisture, a mirage.
On this day, perhaps because of the heat or the opera or the hours standing at the sink in high heels, there was little need for lubricant. I used it anyway, the size of his penis made a little knot in my lower abdomen. Too big for me. I thought he might hurt. I squeezed the clear stickiness onto my palm and marveled at the distance traveled by my fist, each stroke a journey all the way from the tip to the flat of his belly which was surprisingly pale and soft, like something newborn and desperate for protection.
I lay him on our bed, this man that I had wanted for so many weeks. I straddled his hips and settled myself down gently, only a small way.
How could I take much more of him into me? I measured the uncharted territory with my hand. I would need both hands to cover it. I stroked the vulnerable length with my fingers, my hand an extension of my cunt, massaging all the length of him. With my other arm steadying myself I wondered how I would bring myself to orgasm without loosing my grip on him completely.
The door was still open and there was him, Richard, standing in the doorway, grinning. I had brought him a prize, hunter-gatherer. It could have been anyone, a stranger on a bus, someone I met at work last night, anyone. He wasn’t to know that the soft groans from beneath me were the sweet chinking sounds of a jackpot paying out, the one I had wanted for so long.
He joined us without introduction. His hand linking fingers with, then replacing, my own on the generous length of penis, my body impaled on top of it, slowly relaxing to consume more of it. I felt his fingers edging into me, stretching the flexible skin, thickening the load. I felt him reach up inside me with his spidery hand and measure the length to the tip of the cock, marveling (I assumed) at the size and shape of it.
Then the fingers withdrew and I felt his tongue touching my clitoris briefly before making the long journey down to that tender pale flesh of the man’s belly. I kissed the boy. He had a sensual mouth, wide and warm. His spit tasted of oranges. His tongue was long and it pushed up between my teeth and the soft underside of my lips. I wasn’t sure if he had felt Richard’s arrival, if he knew that the soft squeezing pressure was not some internal muscular sex-worker’s trick, but the excited fingers of my lover. I had told him about Richard of course, warned him. If you find me at this address you will find Richard there as well. I kissed this new-found prize and there was a gentle pressure on my anus, a tentative testing with a fingertip followed by the cold nozzle of the lubricant and a sudden icy trickle shooting inside me, slipping around the edges, readying me for the next part of this strange dance.
It is easy to disappear when there are two penises entering you. This is what I liked most about the double entry. As long as the smaller one is in the back there is barely any physical discomfort.
There was no pressure for me to perform. The men performed for each other. I was free to watch them find each other’s mouths over the slight obstruction of my shoulder. When their tongues lapped, I was there to watch. I saw them exploring the wet cavities of each other’s mouths. I felt their cocks butt up against each other. I felt them change their rhythm so that their thrusting would be synchronised.
They sucked my breasts, each tongue eager to prove itself more ardent. It was a competitive consumption of my body, their wrestling for position was half in earnest.
I felt the new lover reach around with his extra-ordinarily long arm I felt him stroke the sensitive muscle with his fingertips, slipping on lubricant, forming a perfect O around Richard’s penis. The extra pressure was too much for Richard. We felt the pulsing start, the two of us, this new lover and myself. We felt the uncontrollable spasms of his hips as he relinquished any thought of gentleness and pumped hard, forcing himself into me in a jerking rhythm.
The new lover thrust his head backwards to expose his throat. He was about to come too. I tried to lift myself off him to attempt a subtle retreat, but Richard was still collapsed on my back, his hips twitching in an echo of his orgasm. The boy bucked forward and it hurt, but it was also, surprisingly, pleasurable. He thrust high and hard against the shrinking swell of Richard’s penis. I was flushed with the effort of taking him in. I felt the pumping of it stretching me and I pressed my thumb against my clitoris, back and forth. I wanted to come. When there was a new lover in my bed I never came. I would save it up for later when Richard and I could be alone and have more time to reflect. But this was my prize, the boy who made me spill milk, drop cups, fumble cakes into customers’ laps.
END
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Here’s another frictional storyline of Jasmine, being a Solicitor, while her boss is Sam….
Enjoy and hope you like it…..
EP-1
Samuel dropped the case files on Jasmine’s already buried desk and laughed. “Here you go, busy-bee. You got some catching up to do.” She could smell the cloud of body spray following him when he moved. Eau de Asshole, she thought and smiled, her eyes stinging from his acrid musk.
Sam had been in her law school class, but now he was her superior at work. It was unfair, but she knew he’d ended up as second chair on some important cases purely because he went out with the guys after work. Drinks with the boss was a time-honored way to get ahead of your coworkers, and Sam played every card in his hand to climb the ladder.
She’d bested him in grades and in mock trial in school, and she consistently turned in better, more thorough work here in the office. On every metric that should matter, she could take him. Yet here she was in the fog of his cologne, staring at the pile of discovery documents he’d dropped on her. Just in the act of delivering them to her, he’d played it up to feel like her boss. Psych-outs and power-plays were the norm in any law office, especially for the young turds who wanted to make their name. Jasmine wanted to make hers, and she was fast deciding she’d also like to ruin Sam’s in the process.
She knew it was petty. Daydreaming about Sam getting hit by a car or keeling over and dying from eating someone’s stolen lunch again wasn’t very nice. Sam wasn’t worth her very precious time, especially if she was going to get familiar with the Span case by tomorrow. Getting added to the case was a major accomplishment and a huge opportunity, one she wasn’t going to squander for lack of preparation. She opened the top folder and began to comb through the papers, letting the facts of the case find their places in the tapestry of it all, forming a detailed picture in her mind.
Slowly, the argument formed in her head. She knew the charges, and how the DA was treating the case, and she tailored her thinking to fit. It was something she’d always been able to do. Once she knew the facts of something, she could always see the argument, the best path through the bullshit and into the heart of the matter. It was why she’d studied the law, why she’d fallen in love with its language and spirit. It felt good to work that muscle, and she lost herself for a while in her thinking. She noticed Sam over her shoulder and wondered how long he’d been standing there, watching her.
“Yes?” she asked, annoyed at the intrusion into her space. She closed the folders. Sam had a reputation in school for letting others take the notes and then cajoling his way into study groups. She wasn’t sure how he’d passed the bar, and frankly, she didn’t want to ask. His family was loaded, according to the office gossip.
“Just wanted to see if you needed some help going over those. I can explain it to you if there’s something you don’t get.” She clenched her fists and concentrated on stifling the words that were springing into her mouth.
With all her restraint, she managed to say, “No, thanks. I’ll get through it. It’s just so hard with all those big lawyer words.” She batted her eyes sarcastically, the rest of her face a mask of contempt. To the office in general, she announced, “Stepping out to lunch.” It was 2pm, but she didn’t care. Jasmine gathered up the documents and stuffed them into her valise, shouldered past Sam and headed for the door.
“Something I said?” he called out after her. What a tool, she thought, picking up her stride down the hall and into the elevator.
The Diner was just a couple blocks away from the courthouse, but something about the old vinyl booths and the constant smell of burnt coffee always left her feeling nostalgic. She’d spent many late nights here during school, poring over books and case law, or writing lengthy papers arguing the merits of some precedent or another. That seemed decades ago. Damn, was she getting that old so quickly? She was nearly 32, way past being over the hill. The place was nearly empty.
She nodded at Mary, the longtime waitress, and went to her usual booth back toward the bathrooms. Home sweet home, she thought. She lived here or at the office far more than she saw her real apartment. She’d considered adopting a cat, but she knew deep down that she couldn’t risk a living thing relying on her schedule. She ordered a cup of black coffee from Mary and put her nose back into the case.
The Span case was a big one, newsworthy, capturing the whole city’s attention. Giovanni Span, the defendant’s father, was widely rumored to control most if not all the organized crime on the north side, and his kid was facing some charges stemming from an altercation at a nightclub. Nothing too terrible, but there was a weapons charge and an assault. She could prove the gun was there.
The assault was more of a gray area, and even Jasmine wondered if the victim, claiming to have been punched in the face by young Andreas Span, wasn’t just fishing for a settlement. The media was determined to portray Andreas as the rising godfather of his syndicate family. As she looked through the evidence, though, Jasmine found herself struggling to distinguish between the truth and the DA’s attempts to get to Giovanni by going after his kid.
She didn’t want to think her boss would be so devious, but his was an elected position, and she knew how often politics stepped ahead of justice. Another hour passed, along with several refilled mugs of the warm, dark, thinking juice. A man walked toward the bathroom, but just as he reached her booth, he slid himself into the seat across from her. “Can I help you?” she asked, without immediately looking up from the file.
“Giovanni Span” he said. Jasmine looked up, startled, and closed all the case folders hastily.
“You can’t be here. We can’t be talking like this.” She started to look for the waitress, but the old man’s spotted hand was on hers. It was heavy, and rough, and strong. If his son had half his gravitas and charm, it was no wonder people thought he was being groomed to run half the crime in the city.
Giovanni spoke again. “Well, I’m here, and we’re meeting. Whether you say anything ‘bout it is up to you. The only thing that absolutely won’t happen is my son remaining behind bars, ya got me? Now, I’ve made my mistakes, but Andreas is a good kid. He doesn’t deserve to be tarred with my brush. I heard you were just put on this case. I remember you as a public defender. You were smart, smarter than those jokers usually are. I knew you’d get out of that pit and climb up the ladder.”
Jasmine sat frozen, her eyes wide, as her short career flashed through her mind. She scanned the diner for other lawyers, but thankfully, the place was deserted.
“Relax. I cleared the place. I need you to help me. Just be fair. Look at the evidence, not at the rumors.” Nodding vigorously, Jasmine shakily responded, “Yes, I understand. Of course.” Besides, she thought, who in their right mind would say no to the Giovanni Span? Maybe those who want to die tonight. So much for legal ethics, she mused grimly. She tried to steady her hands by choking the life out of her coffee mug.
Giovanni continued, “Everybody says they’re fair, but sometimes people need a nudge to stay that way.” He looked at her pointedly.
“Look, Mr. Span, I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not in the business of being bribed.” Giovanni raised an eyebrow. Ok, Jasmine you must be feeling suicidal today. Inhaling deeply, she continued, “I’m not trying to put innocent men away, and I don’t want to lock a kid up just because public opinion sways in that direction this week. But if Andreas did it, and I can prove that, he’ll serve out his time.”
Giovanni smiled. It was a vicious thing, his lips pulled back in a sneer that spread no joy across his features. “Andreas is a good kid. He didn’t do this. I need you to understand that, so you can convince the DA to quit going after my kid. If he wants to see me in court, he’ll need to come for me. But arresting my boy at a nightclub…? Cowardly.” The old man turned and left.
Jasmine finished her cup of coffee slowly without reopening the files. Giovanni Span, here, meeting her. Why did he think she could sway the outcome, and who in the DA’s office told him she was on the case? The questions didn’t sit well with her, and she left the diner uneasily, constantly looking over her shoulder. Night had fallen while she’d been inside.
Her lunch break had gone on longer than anticipated, and she hadn’t even eaten. She’d been hungry, but meeting a mobster had diminished her appetite. She headed up to the office and gathered the rest of her things, then took the train home. All she could think of during the ride was the old man’s hand on hers, and the concern in his voice. Maybe he did just want his son spared this indignity. Whatever his end-game, she knew she’d be off the case if anyone knew they’d met.
Her first day on a real case, and already she was skirting danger…
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EP-2
Jasmine woke to relentless shrieking, otherwise known as her alarm clock. Reluctantly, she forced her eyes open and tried to think about the Span case. Her meeting from yesterday was…strange, to say the least. Sleep hadn’t came easily as she debated over the truth about Andreas’s involvement. She had finally acquired to her exhausted body, promising herself that she would wake up with an answer in the morning. A way to assuage her overly ambitious guilt. Unfortunately, she woke up without one. She’d learned enough in law school to know that determining who was innocent and guilty wasn’t part of her job description. Her job was to present all available evidence in as ethical and legally sound manner as possible.
If the DA’s office was using this prosecution to hound a citizen, even one with a reputation like Gio Span, that was wrong. That was something she should do something about. There was no security footage from the club. Conveniently and suspiciously, the system had a recording glitch that night. Her first instinct screamed Andreas was guilty, but with the type of footage that could be found from that club was also an issue. Who knew what really happened when any trust-fund scions partied together?
Without a digital record, the case rested on two eyewitnesses. The bartender who had served both parties and said he’d seen the punch in question, and another girl at the club that night who was willing to testify that Andreas had started the whole brawl. Too bad it wasn’t just left at a brawl, Jasmine thought grimly. Somewhere between brushing her teeth and walking the blocks to her subway station, Jasmine decided to focus on their backgrounds. Even if Andreas was guilty, she’d be saving her boss from any surprises on the stand. She didn’t mind the idea of getting ahead off information from a less-than-savory source like Gio, but she wasn’t entirely keen on working for him. At least this was due diligence any good lawyer would be obligated to perform.
She got to her desk and started digging through the stack of files for the information on the witnesses. Eventually, she found the bartender’s folder. It was slow, investigative work. Somewhere between the dry description of the police report and the assorted bits of personal data from public records, there was a life here. Rebecca needed to know if anything in that life suggested the witness was unreliable. Sighing, she flipped over yet another document. Her entire day would be consumed with this case. At least no one could blame her for not being through.
She spent the morning gathering information on the bartender - past employers, landlords, anyone he’d entered into a contract with. He’d never been married and didn’t own property, but even the dead can be tracked if they paid taxes. Following his tax record, she called his past contacts, trying to pushy any information out of them that would work in their favor. She was starting to think Gio was wrong about his kid and it was an open and shut case when she stumbled upon a hole in the bartender’s character. It was a few years go, but his previous boss had less than a stellar recommendation.
“Chris Ass? Yeah, he worked for me. What’d he do?” Holding her breath, Jasmine tried to keep her tone casual.
“Nothing bad, sir. Just checking up on him. He’s a potential witness in a trial.”
“Well if he’s the same kid I fired, I wouldn’t trust him. That shit wasn’t worth his paycheck.. Little junkie stole from me,so I fired him. Didn’t report it, you know, didn’t want to really screw him. Kinda hoped he’d get it together. Wrote it off as a lesson about vetting my employees better. If he’s clean, you know, that’s a different story. I got a brother who got off Oxy and he’s doing good now, but whoa…he was on it, you couldn’t leave him alone in your house, he’d rob ya blind.”
“Thank you. I’ll look into that and make sure which Chris we’re dealing with. Thank you for your honesty.” Inwardly both grinning and wincing, Jasmine hung up and began combing back through the documents. Sure enough, there it was. A known dealer picked up a few weeks back at the same club. The police were still trying to figure out if he’d had some kind of arrangement with the club or the employees, but had nothing concrete. Almost didn’t make it into the file on the club at all, except the officer assigned to the case wanted to keep it open and watch who filled the dealer’s void. Jasmine called down to the precinct and asked to speak to the officer.
“Alvarez here. Go.”
“Officer Alvarez, this is Jasmine over at the DA’s office. I needed to ask you a question about a dealer you picked up last week at Raze, that nightclub in the East Coast? I need to know if he dealt to a bartender there.”
“Yeah, I know who you’re talking about. That kid would likely say anything about anybody. Weasely little shit. He had a decent amount of pills on him, and we found a scrip pad in his apartment, so now he’s part of some doctor-busting case uptown. I can ask him about your guy, but I can tell you right now he’s not gonna talk without a deal. Personally, I wouldn’t trust a damn thing from him.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” Jasmine hung up. She didn’t know if the bartender was using or not, but she was sure the defense could get the dealer to swear he’d sold to him. That would be enough to knock the shine off of him in the jury’s eyes. She put the folder aside. She’d have to bring that to the DA, but there was still the other witness to consider. That folder wasn’t in the stack. Sam must still have it. She looked at his office door, half-open, and realized just how late it was. The whole day had slipped past her while she was absorbed in the case. Hardly anyone remained in the office, and most of them were gathering the last of their things and heading to the elevators. Sam was still here. That means it would just be the two of them and the custodians. Damn, damn, damn. She hated that fat pig but she needed this case. After all, she preferred to be among the land of the living. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and strode towards Sam’s office.
She knocked on Sam’s open door as a courtesy that the asshole really didn’t deserve. He was sitting at his desk, reading something on his computer and clearly pretending to ignore her. She waited. Minutes passed. She started to enter and he held up a finger at her, still reading. He was clearly making a show of this. He had a door and an office while she had a desk in the bullpen of the main office area. It wasn’t something she hadn’t noticed, but the glaring difference wasn’t so obvious as it was now. After nearly ten minutes, he finally invited her in. Had he not ahead of her on the food chain of this case and technically above her in office power, she would have stormed in and slapped him. Instead, she hovered until she was asked to sit like some type of domesticated animal.
“How can I help you, Ms. Jasmine?” Sam was his usual condescending self. “Need help deciphering some of the files?”
Gritting her teeth, she mentally counted to ten. “Just doing the legwork vetting our witnesses. I need the file on the other witness, Ashley Clit. I don’t see it in the stack you gave me yesterday.”
Sam got up and went to a cabinet. “Yeah, here it is…sorry about that.” He turned with the folder. “Shut the door for a second, would you?” Jasmine closed it with a click, then turned back towards him.
“Sam, come on. Just give me the damn file and let me go home. It’s been a long day. You don’t have to be patronizing.”
“No, I don’t have to be. I also don’t have to give you this folder. You have plenty of other things you could be prepping instead of acting like a defense attorney and picking apart my witnesses. I could just hold onto this.”
“Why are you like this?”
“Because it’s fun, Jas. Maybe I’d give you the folder if that were fun, too.” He looked her up and down with a predatory stare. “You want the file? One condition.”
Jasmine shuddered to think what Sam might say next. “What?” she asked, bracing herself.
“You let me eat that pussy of yours for as long as I want.”
“What? Gross, no! Fuck off, Sam.” She started to turn toward the door.
Sam spoke again. “I can win this case against that little shit, bitch my words. Or I could lose it embarrassingly because some attorney working on the case fucked it up so badly we get creamed in court. Just so we’re clear, in my version that incompetent lawyer is you, Jasmine. So which is it - me under your skirt, or you under the bus?”
Jasmine stood with her hand on the doorknob and wondered if she shouldn’t just let him ’throw’ the case. Sam was a disgusting pig both in personality and appearance. The thought of him even touching her, let alone eating her was disgusting. The problem was that Sam was working this case as a political move and didn’t care about justice or fair play. Maybe Gio was right and Andreas was being railroaded. On the other hand, if Sam lost the case, then whispered in the DA’s ear over drinks that it was Jasmine’s failure… Well, the best case scenario would mean her rise in the office would be stopped. And the worst case, she’d be unemployed with a reputation for bad work. No to mention possibly dead.
The case had to be lost, but on her terms. She left the door closed and thumbed the lock. Sam was smiling when she turned back toward him. Slamming the blinds down as a final act of defiance, she spat out, “Fine.” Shaking from the anger and energy it took trying not to kill the dipshit, she painfully unlatched the belt on her gray skit. Unzipping the side, without the belt to secure it on her thin waist, it slowly slid down her lush, hippy curves. Mortified beyond belief, she kept her face down as she stood with her cream blouse covering her panties. Exposed completely on the bottom, save her panties and tan colored stockings, Sam whistled softly in appreciation. If there ever came an opportunity to ruin him personally or professionally, she’d take it. She roughly pulled her panties to the side and lifted her shirt up, exposing her hairless pink pussy. “Here, let’s just get it over with.”
Sam rubbed himself through his pants and demanded that she look at him. She slowly raised her eyes, determined for him to see how much she hated him in her glare. Distracted by the movement his hand caused, her eyes flickered downwards to the middle of his pants. If he was hard, he was small- at least that part gave her solace. The jackass! Jasmine tried to not smile or laugh as she thought about it. She didn’t want to set him off any further. She cleared her throat when he didn’t move.
“Oh no…” he said, still staring at her pussy. “All of it off. Except the stockings. Leave the stockings.” She began to unbutton her blouse. Once it was off, she folded it and stepped out of the ring of her skirt on the floor. She put both on one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, then removed her bra and added it to the pile.
“Good girl. Clean off my desk. Carefully, don’t go breaking stuff.” He continued to rub himself in small circles through his slacks. Jasmine tried to hide her disgust but couldn’t stop the involuntary curl of her lip. She took each item off the desk and set it carefully on the floor. Once it was clear, Sam told her to lay on her back on the desk. Reluctantly, she followed his orders and the cold hardness of the desk caused her to involuntarily arch her back.
Grinning, Sam advanced towards her. The sudden loss of power was frightening and she secretly prayed for her vagina to stink. She briefly pondered how she could prove a sexual harassment claim, but then Gio’s menacing face popped into her head.
Well, I guess it’s better than being dead, she acquiesced. Lost in her own pity party, she jumped as she felt something ice-cold against her thigh. Sam took the letter opener from the desk-pile on the floor and cut her panties, pulling them free from the stockings and putting them in a drawer. He dragged her down the desk slightly until her legs hung off the side. She tried to focus on the cold of the lacquered wood, thinking inappropriately that she should have a desk this large, not Sam.
She was unconsciously wincing, bracing herself for the slime caused by this disgusting man’s mouth. Instead, she felt a shock of pleasure as his thick, fat tongue licked her clit from the top to the bottom in one solid stroke. A small cry escaped her mouth and Sam stopped immediately.
Panting heavily, she saw him grab a tie and come towards her face. “Wha-what are you do-”
He roughly pulled her head back, forced her mouth open and stuffed the bottom part of the tie in her mouth then tied a knot at the back of her head securing her in a gag. Satisfied, he immediately returned to lapping at her pussy. She hated herself instantly for how good his tongue felt. The gag only enhanced the pleasure. Brody began sucking on her clit, lightly touching his teeth to it occasionally, coaxing her up further and further toward orgasm. His tongue slid in and out of her lips, making them swollen with pleasure. His tongue was thick, long and rough; his strokes were forceful and demanding. He ate her pussy like a starving man getting a fresh piece of bed. The office filled with the sounds of wet slurping noises.
Disgusted with herself, him and her gag, Jasmine prayed for the ending. Her juices were beginning to flow freely and Sam was determined that her pussy stay dry. He slurped, sucked, licked and swallowed every single trickle of pleasure. Beyond reason or choice, her body and she twisted on the desk, her legs clenching around his head. Sam bent her knees up and moved away from her clit, focusing his tongue on the slow licks between the lips of her pussy. Her body went crazy and she felt heat racing in tendrils across her body. Sam, the most disgusting man she knew, was going to give her the best orgasm she’d had all year.
He replaced his tongue with a fat finger, fucking her with the sheer tenacity of a dominant man. As she arched off the desk in a fresh wave of ecstasy, he put a thick law textbook under the small of her back to hold her in that position. Her pussy opened to him as she laid in a bow, her feet on his shoulders as he sank back to his knees and continued to finger and lick her. Her nipples hurt so much she nearly cried from the pleasure. Her large, 38D Natural breast bounced heavily and her body began to involuntarily shudder. Another wave of pleasure rocked her and she spasmed so hard, her pinned bun came out, long blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders.
Pinching her nipples and gasping for air, Sam added another finger inside her. He pushed in and out of her creamy wetness, while his tongue licked around her labia, up the crease where her leg met her crotch, and under his fingers where her juices were making a puddle on the desk. She thought she even heard him lick her off the desk itself, greedily devouring all that she gave from her dripping pussy before adding yet another finger and returning his lips to hers. With four fingers and his tongue, he broke her. Jasmine screamed but it came out as a muffled groan, as the gag prevented anyone from really hearing her ecstasy.
Sam pushed her past any previous orgasm she’d had, his fingers making a mess of her cunt as she ground herself into his face. He hadn’t touched her clit since he began his work, and only now, as she crested her highest wave of pleasure, did he return to that sacred bundle of nerves. His tongue hit it like an electric shock and he roughly pulled his hand from her pussy. Jasmine gasped and dropped her breasts. Her nipples were bright red from pinching. She ran her hands through the sides of Sam’s remaining hair as he sucked hard on her clit. He took both her wrists with one hand and freed himself from her delirious caresses, using his other hand to rub roughly on her clit. She came again, a cry of pleasure caught in the tie as she squeezed her eyes shut. Sam stopped his hand and began to gently lick all the juices from her, cleaning her with his tongue until she was wet only from him. He took the book from under her back and she collapsed back onto the desk. Sam smiled and laughed at the control he had over her. Jasmine’s legs still moved against each other, grinding out the afterglow.
“Get up.” Jasmine took a moment to register his words. “Now.” She sat up, shakily. Sam put a hand behind her head to help her, then leaned in and stole a kiss. Jasmine could taste the sharp flavor of herself on his lips and started to push him away, but Sam broke the kiss himself. “Put my desk back and leave.” A little stunned, she sat his curios and paperweights back onto the desk, then stepped into her skirt and buttoned her blouse while Sam watched from his chair. He shut the drawer with her panties. “Don’t forget your file. Oh, and shut the door on your way out.” He smiled a thin-lipped grin. As she turned the handle on the door, finally on the other side of it and holding the folder, she heard the wet slapping sound of Sam finishing himself off. Jasmine could still hear that sound as she fell asleep that night, trying desperately not to think of the day’s moral compromise or the orgasms it had brought.
Jasmine dressed and left for work the next morning with a knot in her stomach at the thought of facing Sam again. It didn’t help that a part of her wanted to face him again. She stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of her building and began to walk toward her stop. A long black car pulled to the curb next to her and rolled down a mirrored window. Gio Span smiled, unleashing a flood of wrinkles onto his face.
“Good morning Jasmine. Give you a lift?” The door opened. Jasmine looked up and down the street for anyone who might notice a city attorney getting in a car with a suspected felon, but she was a long way from the office. She decided looking around probably seemed more guilty than just getting in the car.
Gio sat facing her in the backseat of the limousine. Next to her was a large African American man in what had to be an expensive custom suit. Nothing off the rack could possible fit the man, and she could only barely make out the shoulder holster of his handgun. A similar mountain, but of the Italian variety sat next to Gio. “Don’t mind the boys. As I’m sure you’re seeing on this case, there’s lots of people in this town who try and take shots at me. These guys just try to make sure I’m ok, ya know?” Jasmine didn’t care for the idea of being the Span family’s courtroom enforcer. She had avoided the big defense firms precisely so she wouldn’t be helping criminals. While she was pretty sure Andreas might not be all the way guilty, she didn’t want to make helping him a habit.
“Mr. Span….”
“Gio, sweetie. Please.”
“Mr. Span…” Gio’s smile dropped. “I looked over your Andreas’s case. The DA looks to be relying on some less-than-credible witnesses. One in particular is not going to be useable on the stand. The other I haven’t gotten to really look at yet, but I don’t think the case is winnable. I think he’ll be fine in court.”
“So you’re sure you can find something on the other witness, or what? I don’t like the sound of ‘I think he’ll be fine’, Ms. Jasmine.” She had clearly changed the dynamic of their conversation with her insistence on formality.
“It means that I’ve done all I can do for you, and even this pushes the boundaries of my professional ethics.”
“Oh does it, now? Because I hear from my sources that you had some office hanky-panky going on last night.” The knot in Jasmine’s stomach dropped and grew ten times bigger. Stunned into silence, she could only listen as he continued. That’s right, Ms. Jasmine, I see a lot of this town, all the time. You and some coworker steaming up the windows behind a locked door? Spare me the ethics lecture. Show me the file on the other witness, the bitch from the club."
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Remember the previous Chapter on Jasmine and her rival OL Nicole, making Jasmine her Sex Slave?…..The merger of Sluts & Clit Companies….. …..
Here is a short added Episode to help some brothers on the fantasies…….
Chapter 4
“You ungrateful fucking slut!!” Nicole shouted at the naked Jasmine.
It was the next morning, and Jasmine had arrived at Nicole’s office at 6am as ordered. Of course, Nicole had only come into work at 8, which meant that the naked Jasmine had been posing in her favourite position in front of the windows for close to 2 hours.
“Nicole, I’m sorry… I didn’t have enough time after… After…” Jasmine began.
“After what?” Nicole continued shouting, feigning ignorance.
“After… I fucked the men who installed the cameras…” Jasmine replied, blushing.
“What do you mean you didn’t have enough time? So are you saying that they just finished fucking your slut cunt at 6am this morning? So when Sam got home he could enjoy the sight of his adulterous whore of a wife being fucked through the night by 5 strangers?” Nicole shot back.
“No, ma’am. I mean… I had to clean up… Cum was everywhere…” Jasmine whispered softly.
“I specifically arranged for an interview at 5:30pm. I called in a favour for you, even though you are a worthless slut and you should be working the corner. I was trying to help you get a proper job in this company!” Nicole said, trying to hide her smile.
“Nicole… ma’am… I’m sorry… I already rushed all over the city yesterday… I got everything you wanted from the clothing shop and the rest of the places… I just didn’t have enough time because… because… I got fucked twice in the afternoon by the ‘camera crew’…” Jasmine explained, completely humiliated.
Nicole, of course, was aware of everything that had happened, and not simply due to the surveillance that she now had over Jasmine’s home. She had known from the beginning that it would be hard to complete all the assigned tasks from the day before, even without taking into consideration the workmen’s considerable stamina. She admired the sight of her former rival and current slave, completely naked and vulnerable.
“Well, unfortunately, you are a useless slut. Luckily for you, I am kind. But you will, of course, be punished for this. From now on, you will always be naked when you are in your car. Footwear is fine, which means you can keep your slut-heels on. But before you get in, I want you to strip off the dress. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am…” Jasmine replied, horrified.
“Repeat what I just said.”
“I will be naked in the car…” Jasmine whispered.
“Good. Now, because I am also forgiving, I have arranged for another interview session for you today. Same address as before. Make sure you get there before 9. Now get your slut cunt out of my office and get driving. And remember the new rule.” Nicole shooed her slave away, who quickly slipped on her slutty white spaghetti-strapped dress and matching heels.
“AND. You’d better get the job. Or else…” Nicole said menacingly.
Anyone in the underground carpark of the building would have seen the wonderful sight of a beautiful Jasmine swiftly slipping off her slutty dress before hurriedly climbing into her car, completely naked.
Jasmine barely made it to the small warehouse-like building by 9. In actual fact, she had no idea what job Nicole had arranged for her to be interviewed for, simply that it was related to Sluts. Sighing, she turned off the ignition and got out of the car. Blushing, she realized that her legs parted wide and her pussy flashed openly pink to anyone who cared to look. Luckily, there were no other cars parked in the alleyway behind the warehouse and she quickly slipped on the white dress again. She carried her documents in her hand, before knocking on the small door on the side, labelled “Office”.
“Come in.” came a gruff voice replied.
Jasmine entered the tiny room, and was faced with a middle-aged Asian man glaring at her.
“No, I’m not interested.” he replied simply, eyeing up her slutty attire and curvy body.
“Wha… No. I’m here for a job interview!” Jasmine replied, confused.
“We don’t do that kind of jobs here.” the man said, frowning.
“Um. Sluts Corp sent me. My… boss…” Jasmine winced at the thought of referring to Nicole as her boss, but continued, “My boss said that I was to come here for an interview for a position. I was supposed to be here at 5:30pm yesterday but it was rescheduled to today.”
“Oh, I see.” the man suddenly curled his mouth up in a sneer, “Yes. From Ms Nicole.”
Jasmine nodded.
“Well, in that case, you can wait in the meeting room. I will be with you shortly.” he gestured towards a door.
Jasmine thanked the man and headed into the room. To her disgust, the ‘meeting room’ seemed to be barely anything more than a broom closet. There was a tiny stool on the floor, which she sat her belongings on. She looked around at the cleaning supplies all around the ‘room’.
A few minutes later, the man joined her in the room. The room was so small that they had to stand close together, only an arms-length apart.
“I am Mr Horny. So, why do you think you deserve the job? And what’s all this?” he asked her, pointing at her things on the stool while blatantly admiring her dress stretched tight over her braless chest. Jasmine knew her brown nipples could be seen through the flimsy cloth.
“Sir, these are my qualifications and supporting documents. There’s my original degree certificate, my MBA, my resume and the like…” she tailed off as the man picked up the file and flipped through it.
“I see.” he said, simply.
“The thing is, because you missed the interview yesterday, you’re already at a disadvantage. And because the job in question is so popular, we have to do a practical examination of your skills. Follow me.” he continued, and gestured for her to follow him, handing her the file.
“Yes, sir.” she replied, feeling somewhat proud that she was about to be interviewed for an in-demand job.
They entered the main room of the warehouse, a huge hangar-like enclosed space. Again, cleaning supplies were messily stocked around the room.
“Now, strip.” Horny ordered curtly.
Jasmine groaned. More sex, she thought. Well, as long as she got the job and Nicole didn’t have an excuse to do anything worse to her, that was fine, she figured.
“Yes, sir.” Jasmine was soon naked and barefoot. She did not even bother covering up her tits and pussy, as the Asian man admired her naked form.
“Now take the documents you brought, and put them in a single stack on this table.” Horny continued.
Confused, Jasmine obeyed. Naked, she gathered the documentation of her professional qualifications etc. and placed them on a neat stack on the table.
“Tear them up slowly into small pieces and throw the pieces into this circle.” he gestured towards a small yellow circle on the ground.
“WHAT?” Jasmine asked, horrified.
“YOU HEARD ME, YOU STUPID NAKED BITCH. TEAR THEM UP. SMALL PIECES. NOW. " he suddenly shouted at her.
Humiliated, the busty naked Jasmine had no choice but to slowly reach for her degree certificates and begin to destroy them. Soon, they were reduced to a pile of junk paper on the floor. Jasmine could feel tears welling up in her eyes, a fact that seemed to be deeply enjoyed by the watching man.
“Now,” he handed her a lighter, “Set fire to the pile of useless shit.”
“Yes, sir…” she replied, sighing.
The naked bombshell proceeded to burn her precious certificates.
“Rub your pussy while it burns. If your hairless slit is not twitching in orgasm before the fire goes out, you’ll have failed the interview.” Horny ordered.
Stunned, Jasmine did not do anything for a few seconds. The man proceeded to spank her tanned ass hard, which got the naked Jasmine moving. Just as she was reaching for her clit with her right hand, the door opened and a black man walked in. Jasmine instinctively covered up her tits and pussy, a beautiful shocked look on her face.
“Hey boss… Wha…” his jaw dropped as he saw the cowering naked Jasmine standing beside the small pile of burning paper.
“Oh yeah, don’t mind the slut. What’s up, Tom?” Horny asked.
“It’s the delivery from Sluts. Where do you want me to hang it up?” Tom replied.
“HEY YOU, DUMB CUNT. DID YOU FORGET WHAT I SAID? IF YOU DON’T CUM BEFORE THE FIRE GOES OUT, YOU MIGHT AS WELL GET THE FUCK OUT NOW.” the Asian shouted at her.
Of course, Tom had a good laugh as the powerless and vulnerable Jasmine slowly reached for her clit and begun to stimulate herself in circles, in full view of the two watching and amused men.
To add to Jasmine’s humiliation, she soon realized that the two men were hanging up a full-sized, high-definition picture of her in her favourite position. The background was recognizable as Nicole’s office, but her busty body took up most of the picture. She seemed happy to be completely naked, posing erotically while gazing out of the full-body length windows of Nicole’s office, as though she was without a care in the world and hoping for someone to look in and admire her naked charms.
It made things worse that she was extremely horny. Her right hand diddling between her tanned thighs, fingers drawing circles around her clit in rapidly quickening strokes, Jasmine used her left to twiddle and pinch her nipples. It was an undeniably twisted scene, a huge picture of a naked busty slut posing in her favourite position, the same once-proud Jasmine masturbating furiously, and her professional certificates in flames nearby. She could see “First Class” on a tiny piece of paper that was turning to ash, her pussy throbbing and practically oozing translucent female lubricant.
Jasmine came before the fire went out. Tom and Horny applauded as she continued taking deep breaths, completely humiliated and feeling worthless.
“Now, clean up the mess.” Horny ordered.
Jasmine silently swept up the ashes of her certificates, still panting slightly from the masturbation.
“Congratulations, slut. You got the job. You are now Sluts Corporation’s newest Toilet Cleaner!”
END
Special Reluctance Videos
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