Printer hums faintly down the hall. Door clicks locked. Coffee scent mixes with my perfume—sharp, musky. I’m Anne, mid-level manager, ambitious bitch who craves breaking rules. Tonight, conference room’s my dungeon. Jean-Philippe, my 54-year-old sub colleague, preps meticulously. Showered, groomed, collared under his shirt. We’ve chatted fantasies on our secret site for weeks. He craves object status. I text: ‘Ready to obey, Mistress?’ He replies: ‘Yes, Mistress.’ I smirk, fingering myself earlier imagining him broken.
7 PM. I stride in, sexy pencil skirt, stockings, heels clicking tile. ‘Collar tight, slut?’ He nods, eyes down. ‘Blindfold on. Now.’ He obeys, string peeking under robe-like jacket, leash dangling. I set up—lube, martinet, double dildo hidden in drawer. Cocktail glasses clink. His whisky trembles in hand.
The Building Tension
Doorbell buzzes—adapted for office entry. ‘Stay,’ I snap. Door unlocks. ‘Evening. Come in.’ Two voices: man and woman. Surprise hits—couple! Sandrine, hot blonde colleague-domme, and her sub Marc, 42, brunette like Jean-Philippe.
‘Verrouillez derrière,’ Sandrine says. They blindfold Marc too. ‘Sit, sluts.’ Glasses pour. We step away, whispering gages. Printer whirs. Mouse clicks echo as I check camera feed on laptop.
The Explosive Release
They whisper. Hands wander thighs. Fabric rustles. Strings strain. Cocks harden. Sucking sounds—wet, slurpy. Glands pop free. Moans muffled. ‘Good bitches,’ I think, filming all. Hearts pound. Adrenaline spikes—caught on cam, pure risk.
‘Time’s up, whores!’ Sandrine barks. They freeze. ‘We saw everything. Punished now.’ Chapeau game: papers with tasks. On knees, ass-to-ass on table. Lick asses lubed. Double dildo shoves in—double penetration grind. Hips buck. Cocks drip. Table creaks. ‘No cum!’ Printer drones on.
Gages ready. Blindfolds off. Marc’s green eyes meet Jean-Philippe’s—twins in lust. Sandrine’s lycra hugs curves. My body’s sheer blouse teases nipples. Marc draws: ‘Spanking from friend’s Mistress. Suck under him—no cum.’