OFFICE DETENTION

   Parts I and II



   Camille rushed into the office on Monday morning.  Her heart pounding as
she raced up the flights of stairs, her breathing ragged as she tried to
walk calmly down the hallway to her desk.  She noticed her boss's door was
opened.  She was in earlier that usual.  Camille reached her desk.  Her
heart skipped a beat when she found that the disk she had mistakenly left
there on Friday was not there.  Staring at her desk as if to make the disk
appear, she was unaware that her boss, Mrs.  Huntington, had approached
her.



   "You're in a little early my dear." The cool words made Camille spin
around.  Her eyes widened as she saw the disk lying in her boss's hand. 
Her mouth became dry as Mrs.  Huntington motioned her into her office.  She
knew she was going to get fired.  She had only been on the job for a few
months, and had not developed any kind of relationship.  Camille had been
foolish to bring the disk to work, but she had wanted to get the story done
for her boyfriend, and thought it would be safe to bring it back and forth
on disk.  It was only when she was searching for it on Saturday that she
realized she had misplaced it.  It contained bondage story fantasies.



   Mrs.  Huntington shut and locked the door, and pushed Camille to the
middle of the room.  She smiled wickedly as she saw Camille's distress. 
She inserted the disk into her computer, actually humming as she did so. 
She wasn't going to bring that stuff up on the screen, right there, when
she knew Camille was already embarrassed?  As the first story appear,
Camille blurted out "I'm sorry, I'll pack my things and be on my way."



   "Actually, it is very good writing.  Your fantasies are very real.  Have
you lived any out?"



   "No." She answered too quickly.



   Mrs.  Huntington smiled.  "I think you answered that too quickly.  I
believe you are experienced with some bondage." She rounded her desk and
approached Camille, who was trying to edge to the door.  Something made her
not rush out.  Mrs.  Huntington came right up to her, circling her, eyeing
her up and down, the cool green eyes unnerved her.  "And to think, you put
on such a 'holier than thou' attitude.  Are you a submissive?" The question
sprung on her so quickly that Camille was taken off guard.



   "Yes--I mean no." She finished weakly.  "May I please just leave?" This
humiliation was horrible.  Mrs.  Huntington smiled again.  Camille could
see that her boss enjoyed this.



   "There is no need for you to leave.  I have a proposition for you."



   Thunder raged in Camille's ears.  She tried to clear her head.  Mrs. 
Huntington picked up a wooden ruler.  Camille caught her breath at the
round form of her buttocks bending over the desk.  Her skirt rode up, and
up, and up.  She had very shapely legs; firm short legs, trim, small
ankles, a nicely rounded ass, trim waist." If you agree to be my personal
servant for a month, I will let this matter go." The ruler tapped the palm
of Mrs.  Huntington's hand, as if it had a mind of its own.  She circled
Camille again, her skirt rustling, her small breasts rising is rapid
movements.  Camille could see erect nipples through the silk fabric.  What
kind of bra does she wear?  Panties?  Nylons?  No.  She shook her head to
clear it.  "You will be at my beck and call the entire time.  You will wear
only skirts.  I won't tolerate any pantyhose.  You must wear garters and
hose, no underwear, no bra, have your pussy shaved bare, or be punished."
She smacked her hand.  Hard.  Camille jumped, as if she herself had been
hit, and began to speak.



   "Quiet.  This is not blackmail.  I think you will enjoy it.  You must
want something on this order, or you wouldn't still be standing here." A
long, slender forefinger reached under Camille's chin, pushing her head
back.  "I'll bet you are wet." The words were velvet.



   "Yes." Camille answered softly.  This unexpected turn of events stunned
her into silence.  She felt betrayed by the wetness and warm tingling
between her legs.  She was not a lesbian, so why was she aroused at feeling
helpless?



   "If, after one month, you are unhappy, you will be free to go, with a
good reference from me.  I'll put it in writing, if you wish.  I'll give
you 5 minutes to think about it, but you must decide before you leave this
office."



   Camille stood, feeling as though she were swallowed up in one of her own
fantasies.  How hard would it be, to be a servant for a month?  Surely she
could handle that.  It might even be kind of fun.  She continued to stand
awkwardly in the middle of Mrs.  Huntington's office.  Mrs.  H.  began to
busy herself with some work, began to print something, jotted down notes.
Camille watched wordlessly, and Mrs.  H.  began to print out her stories,
then copy the disk, and then send them in an e-mail attachment somewhere.
How old was she?  The way her hair was pulled back made her appear older.
She must be in her late 30's.  Was she married?  Camille didn't know.  She
seemed reasonable enough, even seemed as though she had some kind of
experience in this bondage area.  Camille was deep in thought and arousal.



   "Time's up.  Well?" She arched her eyebrow and tapped her desk with the
ruler.  "Well?" She asked again, continuing to tap with the ruler.  Camille
was frozen by the movement, but managed a weak "Yes."



   Mrs.  H.  sighed, stood, approached her, and tapped the ruler in the
palm of her hand.  She wore little makeup, and smelled heavenly.  Camille
could see her palm beginning to turn red.  "Yes, what?" She snapped.



   "Y-y-es, I'll be your servant for a month." She answered with more
confidence than she felt.  She had no idea what she was getting into.  She
could sense the office beginning to come to life outside the closed door.
It was a world away.



   "Very well.  Sign this.  It's our contract for 30 days.  Remove your
coat.  Remove your clothes.  We may as well get started right now."



   Remove her clothes . . .  hit home as she signed her name.  "Remove my
clothes?" She asked incredulously.  "Now?  Are you nuts--?" The ruler
silenced her as Camille felt it across her ass.  "Yes.  You are mine to do
with as I please for the next 30 days." Camille felt a shiver creep up her
spine as the full impact of what she had agreed to began to sink in.  She
swallowed hard.  Her cheeks began to burn with shame.



   "I'm waiting." Crack!!  The ruler hit her again.  Camille fumbled with
her clothing until she was down to her nylons, underwear and bra.  She
paused.  "Keep going.  The longer this takes, the more questions will be
aroused by those people arriving for work." She felt tears beginning to
form and she slid off her nylons.  Her breathing was barely audible as she
unhooked her bra.  Her shoulders slouched as she lowered her underwear.



   Mrs.  H.  caught her breath as Camille stood cowering before her.  She
must be a C Cup, and her nipples were already hard.  She enjoyed watching
her squirm, the arms not sure where to go, or what to cover up. 
Approaching Camille, she circled around her, tracing a line here and there
on the white skin, which had goose bumps, as Camille shivered, and tried to
cover those delicious tits.  Camille jumped as her boss began to pull her
arms behind her.  A sharp smack with the ruler settled her down.



   Mrs.  H.  ignored her distress as she forced her arms back.  "This is
the way you should stand before me, hands joined in back.  Now, every
morning you will be here at 7.00 a.m., and bring me my morning coffee when
I arrive.  You will shut my office door and lock it.  On your knees, you
will bring me my coffee.  When you have permission to, you will remove your
clothing," Mrs.  H.  began to circle Camille, pushing the ruler between her
legs to separate them, letting the smooth cool metal edge slide gently up
her slit.  Camille let out a moan.  "You will present yourself to me." Her
hands pushed Camille's shoulders back.  "You will hold your hands behind
your back during morning inspection.  Your pussy will be shaved clean.  If
this is not done, or you fail to wear the appropriate undergarments, you
will be punished.  If you don't have garters and hose, then buy them."
Camille began to shiver as she began to feel trapped.  Trapped by her own
desire, and shamed by that desire.  She wanted this.  Her breathing became
labored as her boss tweaked each nipple.  "These tender nipples," she
whispered into Camille's ear, "will become used to a variety of clamps."
She pulled hard at each nipple.



   "ooh.  Ahh." were the only responses Camille could make.  She was
enslaved.  Maybe she was a lesbian.  How would she explain that to her
boyfriend?  She had known him, too, only for a short while.  Would he
understand if he found out?  To read it in story was one thing, but to
experience it?



   >From the pile of wrinkled clothing, Mrs.  H.  picked up the nylons and
underwear.  Throwing them in the direction of the door, she instructed,
"You may toss these into your trash can, and you had better do it, because
I will check.  Now get on your knees.  Cup your tits, pinch your nipples,
and offer them to me.  Stick out your tongue.  You have made me very horny.
I need to see what your tongue is capable of." Camille was a beauty.  Short
brown hair, round but not heavy figure.  Her bone structure was
fascinatingly large, with broad shoulders tapering to a trim waist and then
to lush hips.  Good muscle tone, very little fat.  She relished the girl's
submission, as the girl followed orders.  Mrs.  H.  went to her desk,
lifted her skirt, and sat in her chair.  "Crawl to me, you little slut."



   Keeping the humiliating position, Camille began crawling to her
Mistress, her tongue out, and breasts cupped.  She began to tweak her own
nipples.  She was keenly aware of the tingling and wetness between her
legs. She had never licked a woman before.  When she reached Mrs.  H., she
was instructed to use her teeth to pull her underwear down.  To hurry
Camille along, Mrs.  H.  would swat her ass with the ruler.  By the time
Mrs.  H's panties were around her ankles, Camille's ass was turning red. 
"Well done, my office pet.  Now lick me."



   Camille obeyed.  Mrs.  H tasted wonderful, she had to admit.  Although
keeping her balance was somewhat difficult, she never thought to remove her
hands from her breasts.  Camille actually began massaging her tits, and
squeezing her nipples.  Mrs.  H.  would send the ruler crashing down on her
ass, which only seemed to make her hornier.  Camille wanted desperately to
masturbate.  "Spread your knees apart.  That's it.  Now arch your back. 
You are a good pussy licker.  Perhaps that should be your name?  Yes, the
office pussy licker.  Oooh, yeah, that's the spot, stick your tongue in my
pussy." Camille could feel her Mistress's pussy begin to pulse around her
tongue.  She nibbled, and sucked for all she was worth.  Her ass felt on
fire from the ruler swats, and she moaned a little when the next blows were
particularly hard.  Could people in the office hear what was going on
behind the door?  Camille was surprised that this thought turned her on
even more.  Within an hour, Camille felt as though she had become a slut.
Mrs.  H.  came with a torrent of juices.  Camille lapped as much up as she
could.  Her face was moist from the mixture of saliva and cunt juice.  When
Mrs.  H.  was satisfied, she pushed her office pussy licker away, and said,
"Not bad pussy licker, for starters.  Now get dressed, and get your ass
back to work, and bring me my coffee."



   Camille was completely humiliated at being treated like this.  Her hands
were shaking as she pulled on her wrinkled skirt and blouse.  Man she
needed to cum, but was afraid to ask.  Grabbing her nylons and panties,
Camille rushed to the office door.  She hesitantly opened it, saw more
office people than she liked.  She took a deep breath, and made her way the
short distance to her cubicle.  Shakily she sank into her office chair, and
threw her nylons and panties into the trash, which she moved under her
desk, and immediately covered up with a pile of papers.  God, she needed an
orgasm.  She was so wet.  Her phone rang.  She picked it up, and cleared
her throat, "Camille speaking."



   "My office pussy licker has forgotten something."



   The coffee.  "Yes, Mrs.  H.  I'll bring it right away." Camille ignored
the curious stare of her office co-worker, who definitely noticed Camille's
lack of under clothing, not to mention her wrinkled skirt and blouse. 
There's definitely something going on there, Sue thought.  Perhaps they are
lesbians.  No, judging by the flustered way Camille was acting, rushing to
the coffee pot, and disappearing into the boss's office, there was more to
it.  The curious Sue went over to Camille's desk, pulled out the trashcan.
Nylons and panties, this will make for wonderful office gossip.



   The day dragged.  Delivering coffee to her Mistress had been harder than
she had anticipated.  Crawling on her knees, trying not to spill any
coffee, was degrading enough, but worse, yet Mrs.  H.  had ordered, "Now,
my pussy licker, crawl to the center of the room, pull your skirt up to you
waist, put your forehead on the floor, spread your knees wide, and spread
your pussy lips for me." Horrified, Camille did as ordered, desperately
wanting to finger her clit.



   "Your pussy is very wet."



   "Yes, Mistress."



   "Good, stay like that for a minute or two." Camille felt frozen in time.
She could hear her boss moving around the office.  "Okay, now finger you
clit." Camille did so without hesitation.  Mrs.  H.  took digital pictures
of the office pussy licker.  When Camille seemed close to orgasm, Mrs.  H.
made her stop.  Mrs.  H.  smiled at the groan of frustration coming from
her new toy.  "Please, Mistress, I need to cum so badly.  Please let me. 
Please let me." God, it was degrading.  She was talking to the carpet; her
forehead and knees were getting sore from the rough carpeting.  "No, I
think you haven't learned your true status, yet.  Now crawl to the door,
and get out of here." Camille followed instructions.



   She straightened her skirt, and calmed herself as best she could. 
Walking to her desk, she knew her forehead and knees had carpet marks on
them.  Sue, her co-worker gave her an odd disturbing smile, as Camille sat
down.  Ignoring her, Camille threw herself into her work to keep her mind
off things.  One of the gals at lunch, noticing that Camille had no nylons
offered to buy her a new pair of nylons, and gave her a very puzzled look
when Camille declined.  After lunch, Camille could stand the passion
between her thighs no longer.  She spent longer than usual in the bathroom
stall, fingering herself to orgasm several times.  When it was time to
leave, Mrs.  Huntington was nowhere to be seen.  Camille left quickly, and
went to the nearest mall to pick up garter and hose, and sexy
undergarments.



   She called her boyfriend, who was not available, and Camille had to
satisfy her lust alone.  Trying on and buying the sexy clothing made her
horny all over again.  She took a long bath, and was just getting dried off
when her phone rang.  Thinking it was Roger she grabbed the phone.  She
could use a good fuck.



   "Hello."



   "Is this the office pussy licker?" Camille cringed as she recognized her
boss.



   "Yes Mistress."



   "I want your e-mail address."



   "Why?"



   "Listen pussy licker, would you rather I leave detailed, embarrassing
messages on your answering machine?  I want to send you something."



   Camille hung up the phone.  This was a nightmare.  She was horny again.
She went to her room, pulled out her trusty vibrater, and plunged it into
her soaking cunt, and came many times before she was somewhat satiated,
dreaming of a cock, or tongue, or anything...Forgetting that she should
check her e-mail, she felt into a lust induced sleep.



   Office Detention

   Part II



   The next morning, she half convinced herself that she had dreamed the
day before.  Surely her boss wouldn't go to all the trouble of inspecting?
Her cheeks burned from the embarrassment of disrobing in front of those
knowing eyes.  She had felt that Mrs.  Huntington could see into her very
soul, knowing all her wants and desires.  With proud resentment, she shoved
herself into nylons.  She would wear a skirt and deliver coffee on her
knees, a shaved pussy wasn't too bad, but garter and hose and no underwear
was too much.  She left for work and was 5 minutes late.  7:05.  Mrs.  H.
was in her office.  Camille hoped she hadn't noticed the time, and quickly
made some coffee, tapping her toes impatiently, as she waited for it to
brew.  Finally, it was done and Camille hastened to Mrs.  H's office,
shutting the door and locking it, and going to her knees.  It was most
humiliating to crawl over to her boss, who, by now, was watching her
closely.  She reached for the cup, and continued to gaze at Camille. 
Camille almost rose, but thought better of it, since she had been late. 
Mrs.  H.  looked pissed already, and she didn't want to anger her further.



   "I will have to punish you for being late.  Now, up and remove your
clothing."



   "You can't be serious, every morning?" She tried to stall.  Mrs.  H. 
put the coffee down.  She retrieved, from under her desk, what looked like
a riding crop.  Camille swallowed hard.  She knew she was in trouble.  She
smiled sweetly, as she began undoing buttons.  Maybe she would go easy on
her.  Her clothing dropped to the floor, and her hopes with them, when she
saw the scowl on Mrs.  H.'s face as she took in her nylons.



   "My, you are a testy one.  What reason do you have for not having
completed my simple instructions?" She had approached her and rubbed the
crop over Camille's mound.  She immediately felt warm, as the crop teased
her clit.  "Ummmm.  None.  I just don't feel like wearing garter and hose,
and was hoping I could compromise?" The crop snaked between Camille's legs
and Mrs.  H.  grabbed the other end and pulled up.  The crop plunged into
Camille's cunt, and she tried to struggle free, but the crop remained
buried.  "Ow.  O.K.  I'm sorry.  I won't let it happen again-Ow-" Camille
began to push at Mrs.  H.'s hands, trying to push the crop out.  Mrs. 
Huntington was relentless, and kept pressure on the crop between her legs,
pulling her up.  Camille was on tiptoe, trying to wrestle the crop from her
boss, before Mrs.  H.  let the crop go.



   "You are correct." She hissed.  "It won't happen again." The crop
smacked her ass.  Camille yelped.  "Now get out of those horrid things."
Camille did so without hesitation.  "At least your pussy is shaved." She
said as she went to her desk drawer and got a pair of scissors.  Camille
was wide-eyed with interest as she watched her nylons being cut in two. 
She was shocked at the speed with which Mrs.  H.  crossed the floor and
grabbed her hands and tied them tightly in front of her.  "What-what are
you doing-" was all she could get out as her underwear were stuffed into
her mouth and secured with part of the other half of nylon.  Mrs.  H. 
dragged her across the room to a soft chair, pushed her face down and
secured her hands to the front chair legs with the ends of her very
expensive nylons.  Camille was shaking with fear as she felt ropes attach
her ankles, and her legs spread to be tied to the chair.  She muffled into
her gag, but knew it was hopeless.  It was humiliating to be in this
position, exposed.  She could feel herself become wet in her submission. 
Nothing happened for a while.  This unnerved her.  Then she felt fingers
push into her cunt.  "My you are wet." Camille grunted as Mrs.  H.'s
fingers found her G-spot, teasing it.  She nodded rigorously, and tried to
move her hips.  Mrs.  H.  laughed.  The crop hit her squarely on her ass.
Hard.  Camille squealed, and threw her head into the air.  She thought she
might pee as the next hits stung her again and again.  At the tenth one,
she was ready to cry.  Her ass was on fire.  Mrs.  H.  removed the gag and
cruelly lifted her head by the hair.  "Do you understand who is in charge
here?"



   "Yes.  Yes.  Yes." Camille babbled.



   "Good.  You will count the next with me.  Ready?" Smack.  "One" Camille
called out.  That one didn't hurt as much.  Her ass must be numb.  Smack.
"Two." But by the time she got to ten, she was in tears.  She was horrified
when her boss came around to face her.  Mrs.  Huntington pulled up her
skirt, exposing her own shaved pussy.  Camille could smell her sex.  Mrs.
H. wore no underwear, and seemed in her own world.  "Lick me, bitch." Mrs.
H.  ordered, in a whispery voice, which Camille thought was beautiful.  She
snaked out her tongue.  Mrs.  H.  buried Camille's face in her snatch. 
Camille begged to suck and lick, wanting desperately to please this woman,
knowing now what her true role was.  She wanted to make this woman cum
again and again.  It wasn't long before Mrs.  H.  was cumming.  Camille
struggled to keep up with her.  Her jaws and tongue began to tire. 
Finally, Mrs.  H.  was satiated, and collapsed onto the nearby sofa. 
Minutes passed.  It must be close to 8:00 by now.  Camille should be at her
own desk, but she was afraid to say anything.  She waited, somewhat
enjoying her helplessness at being splayed over the chair like that.



   When Mrs.  H.  recovered, she walked across the room and sipped her now
luke warm coffee.  7:45, not bad.  And Camille looked delicious.  Her ass
was red and beginning to bruise.  She had done a wonderful job giving her
pleasure.  She would make a good slave indeed.  Mrs.  H.  crossed the room
to the helpless victim.  Approaching her, Mrs.  Huntington rubbed her ass
cheeks.  They were very warm.  She traced a finger down Camille's ass
crack, and slid it over her wetness, to rest on her clit.  Camille
responded immediately.  Mrs.  Huntington teased her clit until Camille was
moaning with desire and need.  She decided at the last minute not to let
her cum.  It would be too easy for her.  Camille still had a lot of
learning to do.  Mrs.  H.  teased her again, just getting her to the point
of orgasm, but not quite.  Camille began to beg for release.



   "Please let me cum."



   "Your needs don't concern me, pussy licker.  You have been naughty.  I
will tell you when you may cum.  It is so nice to see you struggle.  Your
ass will be sore, and every time you sit down, you will be reminded of your
need for complete dominance." Mrs.  H.  continued to work Camille's clit,
bringing her close, but not over the edge.  Slaves served better when they
needed release.  A Mistress could get a slave to do almost anything just to
be allowed to cum.  It was the ultimate control.  Camille seemed to enjoy
it.  "Your orgasms are mine to control.  If you cum without permission, you
will be punished."



   "I-I-I under---stand." The poor slut gasped.  "Please--I--only want
to--please you--" Mrs.  H.  delighted in her control.  Camille was a
natural.  "You have a gorgeous body, slave.  Check your e-mail tonight."
She began to untie Camille, noting with pleasure the girl's obvious
disappointment at not being allowed to cum.  She helped Camille to a
standing position.  Before letting her dress, she tied one half of the
nylon tightly around Camille's waist.  She knotted the other half, sliding
it up tightly into her cunt, with one knot wedged well into her slit, and
the other at her asshole.  The ends were then looped around the waist and
tied tight.  "This is the rest of your punishment.  I expect to find it in
place at all times today.  If it isn't, I will make it tighter." She
watched Camille's face wince as she pulled up the slack of the "chastity
belt" and tightened it further.



   "Now, get dressed and get out of my office."



   Camille did as ordered.  Every time she moved the nylon bit into her. 
Walking as naturally as she could, she left her boss's office.  She smiled
at a few people, and stiffly made her way to her desk, wincing as she sat
down.  How would she ever be able to endure this knotted pain; the knots
were extremely uncomfortable.  How was she going to use the restroom?  She
fired up her computer, pulled her desk drawer open, and gasped.  There,
bunched up were her nylons and panties from yesterday.  There was a note,
which said.  "I know you came yesterday, so I have decided that you need to
keep these in this drawer as a reminder of your servitude." Camille gulped,
shoved them to the back of the drawer, and began her workday.  It wasn't
long before she was squirming with discomfort.  The knotted nylons burrowed
into her pussy and ass.  She would be very sore by the end of the day.  She
kept her coffee and water drinking to a minimum, but by 10:00, her bladder
was burning.  With slightly trembling hands, she dialed her boss.



   "Mrs.  Huntington, how may I help you?"



   "Hey, it's Camille.  I need to . . ." At a loss for words, she let her
sentence trail off."



   "Is this my pussy licker?"



   Camille cringed.  "Yes."



   "Who is this?"



   Casting a glance around the office, Camille lowered her voice.  "Yes
this is your pussy licker.  I need to use the bathroom."



   "I see.  Than go, but do not remove or loosen anything."



   "Thank you."



   Walking was extremely difficult with the knots digging into her, and her
bladder burning with fullness.  In the safety of the stall, Camille was
able to just barely pull the nylon away, so she could pee.  She was
beginning to truly enjoy this dominance Mrs.  H.  had over her.  Although
she wanted to finger herself to orgasm, she knew it would be a bad idea. 
Mrs.  H.  would find out as she did yesterday, and the punishment from that
was bad enough.  Accepting her fate, Camille returned to her desk to finish
her workday.  At the end of the day, Mrs.  Huntington called her into her
office.  Camille casually smiled a good-bye to some of the last people
leaving, and went to her boss's office.



   She immediately went to her knees when she saw that no one else was
there, and waited at the door.  Mrs.  H.  approached her, circled her,
locked the door, and pulled her hair so that she was forced to crawl along
with her.  "Up here." Mr.  Huntington motioned toward her coffee table. 
"Now, strip for me.  Strip slowly."



   As Camille obliged, she began to do a slow silent dance, delighting in
the pull and pinch of the nylon riding deep inside her.  The constant
pressure had eventually turned into hot desire; her only need was to bring
the woman pleasure.  When all that was left, was the nylon "chastity belt,"
Mrs.  H.  slid a knife between fabric and skin and slit the nylon.  Camille
gasped.  "Now, masturbate, and stop when I tell you to."



   Camille's fingers were in a rush to reach her clit.  She began to work
herself and was soon ready to cum.



   "Stop." Camille groaned.



   "Oh please, I've waited soo loong."



   "Continue."



   She did, again and again.  Camille began to sweat.  "Please, I'll do
anything, anything you say, and anything you want.  I'm your slave, please
let me give you pleasure."



   Mrs.  Huntington smiled.  She had Camille right where she wanted her. 
This would be a fun 30 days.  She took her digital and began taking
pictures.



   "You may cum." And she watched in fascination as Camille almost
collapsed from her orgasm.  She ordered Camille to keep going, even though
the one orgasm satisfied her.  She wanted to see how many she could get out
of Camille.  She came again and then again, and ordered keep going when she
paused to catch her breath.



   "Please let me stop."



   "First you beg to cum, and then you beg to stop.  I'm in charge.  Keep
going." Camille obeyed, losing track of how many orgasms she had.



   "You may stop, slave." Camille gasped for breath, sweaty and still
needy. "Approach me on your knees and beg to serve me."



   Camille crawled nicely along the floor, stopping when she reached her.
"Please may I lick your cunt?  I want to please you."



   "You may." Mrs.  H.  Pushed Camille's hands behind her back and secured
them in place.  She could feel Camille shiver.  "Now, go ahead, let's see
what that mouth and tongue can do." She smiled as Camille struggled to pull
up her skirt with her teeth.  To encourage her to move faster, Mrs. 
Huntington swung the crop against her ass.  Camille yelped and finally
reached her boss's sweet smelling pussy.  As Mrs.  H.  leaned back to enjoy
Camille's mouth, the phone rang and was ignored.  That gave Mrs. 
Huntington an idea.  Her orgasm approached as she thought out tomorrow's
scene.  She would have Camille properly serve her.  Then she would see how
well the slut would do on the phone while she teased her clit.  Mrs.  H. 
came as she imagined Camille bent over the desk, legs spread, and weighted
clamps on her nipples.  These she would pull and twist and add more weights
to, and tease the poor girl's clit while forcing her pussy licker to talk
on the phone.  Mrs.  H.  had some close friends who would enjoy a sex
heated phone call.  Delicious.  She came again, imagining many scenes with
her office pussy licker.



   As for Camille, when she finally made it home to check her e-mail, she
felt a strange dread as she pulled up the e-mail addressed to The Office
Pussy Licker.  Mrs.  H., is seems, had taken the pleasure of assigning her
a new e-mail, pussylicker, and she should check that every night.  Camille
logged onto her new e-mail, and began to shake.  There she found that her
Mistress had submitted the 4 stories from the disk to several story sites.
Camille would now be known as pussy licker on Internet story sites.  Her
Mistress had also attached the digital pictures of her office pussy licker,
describing the submission in detail.  Camille sighed.  The pictures
appeared to have just been sent to her, but there was a warning that the
pictures would be sent to anyone if her Mistress was ever displeased with
her.  She also was instructed to respond nightly to every response sent to
her and cc Mrs.  H.  There were quite a few already.



   Camille's servitude truly began that night, as she began to answer her
e-mail