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Post-cheating Lauren has to deal with the aftermath.


"Convenient, sir?"

He gave no answer, but leaned forward, extending his hand towards her chest. She raised her own hand to stop him, but he caught her wrist and looked her hard in the eye: "I hope you were not going to be... uncooperative?"

"No, sir."

"Good." He released her wrist, and she lowered her arm, offering no resistance as he slipped his hand into her blouse and grasped at her breast. "You see, much more convenient." He took her nipple in his hand and squeezed it, making her gasp, and then massaged it firmly, while holding her confused gaze. After a few seconds he let go, and leaned back. "Which brings us to the question of your skirt."

"But I'm not wearing a skirt...."

"And that's the question. You're wearing trousers. Why? Why are you not wearing a skirt?"

"I thought it looked more businesslike."

"But what would the advantage of a skirt be?"

"I suppose it would be... more... convenient?"

"Very good, Tanya. We're making real progress today, aren't we?" he said, as his eyes travelled down her cleavage and to her thighs. "In future you will not wear trousers. So now, take them off."

"Off? Now?"

"Co-operate, Tanya!"

She slowly stood, unzipped the trousers and slid them down her slender legs, stepping out of them.

He watched her intently. She wore black hold-ups under the trousers, and a very flimsy black silk g-string. "Very good. And I'm pleased to see that you are wearing appropriate underwear. Now in future you will always wear a skirt to work. And it will be a short skirt, just long enough to cover your stocking-tops - because you will always wear stockings."

"Are they," she asked, holding his gaze meekly, "also more convenient?"

"Very good indeed." He stood up and stepped up close to her, lowering one hand to her barely-concealed mound. He stroked the front of her g-string with his fingers, and continued, "You're going to make me very pleased that I'm not firing you, aren't you?" He slipped one finger down the front of the skimpy panties, pressing the fabric into her crack. "Which brings us to our second issue: your poor relationship with authority, and your unsatisfactory - your unsatisfying - behaviour. Now, what do you think we can do about that?"

"Should I be more... co-operative?"

"You certainly will!" He continued to stroke at her pussy through the fabric as he assured her, "you will learn to be entirely obedient, and you will learn to satisfy. In fact, to be frank, you will become my personal, private slut." He pushed his finger deeper into her crack, and found that her panties were getting moist. "I think you'll enjoy that, won't you?"


"Well, whether or not you enjoy it, is not important. But you will be my own personal whore from now on, unquestioningly obedient." He slid his finger inside the fabric of her panties, and plunged it into her wet pussy. "Won't you?"

"Ah!" She gasped, and stared at him wide-eyed. "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Then you can start now!"


"Yes." He reached up to grab her by the neck, his thumb rubbing the front of her throat. "By sucking my cock."

"But sir, I think I should...."

"Don't think, slut!" he snarled, grabbing her long pony tail so that she winced. "Just suck me!"

Dragged to her knees by the hair, she found herself facing his groin, and she watched uncertainly as he unzipped his trousers and let loose his fat shaft.

"Take that in!" he commanded, and he pushed his cock into her half-open mouth, "And suck it deep!" He kept his tight grip on her hair and pulled her onto him, sliding in and out between her tight lips, clamped about his shaft. Each time he pulled her forward he forced her to take him further in, her expression still confused but her breathing deepening, until his balls swung against her chin and his helmet pushed into the back of her throat. "Not choking? You are an accomplished little whore aren't you?"


"What was that, whore?"

He pulled her head sharply back from him, forcing her to look up at him but freeing her mouth to speak.

"I am, Sir. I'm a very good whore."

"Well then, I'm going to f

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