Jane and Bob                   by: Jane Lincoln

 

Part Four

As I walked into the copy room I heard gentle sobbing from the corner of the room. Cindy, a twenty-something admin for another supervisor, was standing with her hands covering her face. Her hands couldn’t conceal the tears running down her cheeks or hide the soft sound of crying.

Rushing over to her I touched her shoulder softly. Cindy jumped a bit, startled: She’d not heard me enter the copy room. It was early Tuesday morning and not many people were there. Cindy obviously thought she was alone.

"What’s wrong, Cindy?" I asked. She shook her head and began to sob louder. I put my arm around her and gently led her to the lady’s room.

I wet some paper towels and helped the pretty blonde girl wash her face. Her sobbing almost stopped. I brought her coffee and stroked her arms and shoulders, cooing "There, there. Its all right!" softly.

Finally Cindy looked down at me (I’m barely five feet tall; EVERYONE looks down at me!) and half blubbered, "He’s so mean!"

"Who’s so mean, darling?" I asked. This set her off again and we went through another ten minutes of sobbing, face washing, and stroking before she was coherent again. Finally I had her calmed down. As she put on fresh makeup she began to tell me about her boss, Phil.

Cindy worked for the same temp agency I did and had been with this company for almost a year. Single mother, two kids, husband ran out on her a year ago. No family alive; her Mom and Dad had passed away a few years previously. Cindy lived in a trailer and did the best she could to be a good Mom, working two jobs while struggling to make ends meet and raise her children to have a better life than she did. She showed me their pictures, a boy five and a girl three. Really cute kids; blonde, blue eyed copies of Cindy.

Phil had interviewed her and as Bob had done in my interview he’s been more interested in her boobs than any possible qualifications she could have had as an assistant. He’d hired her immediately; Cindy worked hard and never complained, often arriving at work an hour before anyone else (except me) to do some extra, usually unpaid chore for Phil.

And did Phil appreciate this hard working woman who needed this job so desperately and worked herself to exhaustion here, then raced to her second job at a convenience store and worked there until late at night? Did he ever show any interest in Cindy as a person, in her problems?

Nope.

But Phil certainly enjoyed staring at her breasts. He enjoyed joking and teasing her, asking her when she’d was "gonna quit being the office virgin." He enjoyed touching her, bumping into her or brushing against her "accidentally". He knew she couldn’t quit and was scared to complain and so he kept it up.

At first she thought she could take it, that she’d just ignore Phil’s asshole manner; but in the last few months he’d gotten worse and worse and she just couldn’t take it any more! Sobbing again, she told me Phil had called her into his office yesterday afternoon. He’d looked her straight in the eye and told her the company was "reducing its workforce" and some admins were being laid off.

Then he paused. "Laid off - or laid, I should have said," Phil told her. "Think about it, Cindy."

She’d almost run from his office, grabbed her purse and run to her car. She’d gotten only a couple of blocks before she’d had to pull over and cry her eyes out.

"So now I don’t know WHAT to do, Jane," Cindy told me. "I suppose I have no choice. And he’s not really a bad looking guy - if he only wasn’t such an asshole…"

This sure sounded familiar! I told Cindy, "Tell ya what - take the rest of the day off. Leave a message on Phil’s voice mail telling him you’re not feeling well today but you’ll be in tomorrow. Tell him you’ve been thinking and you don’t want to be laid… off."

Cindy looked up at me, confusion evident on her face. "Trust me," I told her. "I have a plan."

She looked almost relieved as she did as I suggested, phoning Phil’s voice mail to leave the message. She gathered her purse and sack lunch and strolled out.

I walked back to my desk. A few minutes later Bob came in. Glancing at me he went into his office. I rose, followed him, and closed the door behind me.

Last week I would have been fetching coffee but things had changed in four short days! I walked over to Bob’s chair and sat, crossing my legs seductively. Bob stood in front of me.

"Unzip!" I ordered sternly. Bob quickly unzipped his trousers and let them fall to the floor. Instead of the male boxers he was fond of wearing he was contained (more or less) in a lacy pair of my pink satin bikini briefs. The bulge of the chastity tube and the little brass padlock was clearly visible under the thin material.

Around my neck was a gold chain. Grasping it between my thumb and forefinger I raised the chain a bit. The key to the padlock hung there, between my breasts. Seeing this reminder of who was in charge Bob gasped a bit. Good, I thought.

Pointing to the floor in front of the chair I indicated Bob was to kneel. He dropped to his knees immediately. Reaching into my large purse I removed a towel. I raised myself in the chair, hiked my skirt above my waist, and sat on the towel.

Bob knew what to do! Crawling close he gently lifted my ass and removed my panties. Then my boss had his first morning meeting: His tongue and my clit.

God he was good at this! He had already learned without being told exactly how to bring me to climax. The first one he’d delay a bit, licking my clit gently until I began to moan, then pulling back for a moment before continuing. He’d get me all hot and wet and squirming then slowly insert two fingers into my sopping vagina. Then more slow licking, taking me close, right to the edge of climax; then backing down.

He was driving me wild! I controlled him; I had the key to his cage and we each knew that. But in this manner he controlled me. When his tongue was on me and his fingers inside me he could play me like a violin, and he knew it! He enjoyed controlling me, taking me close, oh so close, then backing down until I was thrashing and moaning, wild for release.

Finally Bob’s fingers began to thrust in and out faster and he drew my clit into his mouth and sucked hard. To say I came like a bitch in heat would be an understatement! Thrashing, panting, moaning as softly as I could (we were almost alone at this early hour but I still didn’t want to get caught dipping into the office ink) I rewarded him with a crashing climax.

I finally fell back on the chair, exhausted. But Bob wasn’t through! He continued to lick and thrust and in a minute or less I was up again, moaning, hips squirming. Damn he was good! I’d had more climaxes the last four days than I’d had in the last four years. Maybe this dominatrix stuff wasn’t so bad after all! I still wanted him inside me, wanted to feel his hot seed pouring into me, to struggle in vain against his tight grasp as he held me down and pounded my hot pussy into submission; but between the strap on dildo, vibrator, and his tongue and fingers I was able to restrain myself. Barely!

I’d sent Bob home Sunday to get a week’s worth of clothes and toilet articles since he’d be spending the week at my apartment. I inspected the contents of his suitcase when he’d returned an hour later. Work clothes, slacks and shirts; ok. Underwear, not ok. I removed it all, stuffed the boxers into a sack, and locked the sack in the trunk of my car. "Panties for you this week," I informed my new slave. "No sense washing two sets of everything: You can wear mine the day after I wear them; that way we’ll cut the washing in half (I knew this bit of illogic would appeal to his male brain). Pantyhose from time to time." I smiled at him. "We are going to have SO much fun, darling!"

The look on Bob’s face indicated otherwise; it was obvious he was getting hard again, poor baby, and the sheath was hurting. Too bad! I had him dress in the maid’s uniform again and fix dinner. After dinner Bob received instruction in how to shave my legs and underarms and how to shampoo and comb my long hair.

He performed these tasks grudgingly at first but his abilities as a maid were already increasing. He tried to cover up the fact that he secretly enjoyed this humiliation, being forced to dress in female clothing under his clothes at work and even more dramatically in crinkly petticoats and the black dress and heels when we were alone, but as it was obvious from the pained look on his face whenever he became excited his attempts at deception were useless. We each knew what he had become!

As Bob now was privileged to assist me getting ready each morning, including rising before me and preparing my breakfast, I arrived at work a half hour or so before him. Whenever I wanted his attentions at work (which was often; I was turning into quite the horny little slut!) I’d stroll unobtrusively into his office and close the door. Then I’d sit in his armchair and I’d be "boss" while Bob did his magic with his tongue and fingers.

The first couple of evenings were difficult for each of us. He wanted to stimulate me almost constantly and while I knew I should be a bit cruel and refuse him from time to time I was truly unable to resist. He’d bring me to climax after climax with his tongue and fingers, or one of the dildos. From time to time he’d look down at his chastity tube then look back into my eyes, a pleading look in his eyes. It was all I could do to refuse but I managed to keep the key on its chain and around my neck, a constant reminder to Bob that I was in charge.

The only bridge I knew I couldn’t cross was exposure. Bob was terrified that someone would find out about our arrangement; that he’d be exposed as a cross-dressing sissy slave. While the humiliation of that would only have enhanced his pleasure his fear was too strong; and so I constantly reassured him that his secret was safe with me.

But as I’d told Cindy I had a plan. I went shopping at lunch. When I returned I phoned Cindy and asked if she could come by my apartment after work for dinner. She agreed; her neighbor normally babysat her kids and she’d already called in sick to her second job.

That afternoon I had a surprise for Bob. When he arrived at my apartment I let him in and without a word he went into the bedroom and put on his maid’s outfit. Returning to the kitchen he went to the fridge and opened fetched me a beer. He knelt at my feet and began rubbing them as I sipped the cool liquid.

Best to drop the bomb quickly I thought. "Bob," I told him, "We’re having company for dinner tonight."

"No!" he exclaimed, panic in his eyes. "You promised!"

"I know I did, darling," I said, "And I won’t break my promise. Nobody’ll know who you are. Look in the sack over there." I pointed to a bag in the corner of the room.

Bob walked carefully over and fetched the bag, still unsteady in his heels. He brought it over, reached inside, and drew out its contents.

"A mask???" he asked. "You bought me a mask?"

"Yes, darling," I cooed. "A Mardi Gras mask. You wear it over your head. Nobody’ll recognize you."

Bob wasn’t convinced, so I talked him into putting the mask on. It was bright colored and festive, not a scary Halloween mask. He walked into the bedroom and looked himself over in the mirror. Finally he returned to the living room and again knelt at my feet. He pulled the mask off and handed it to me.

"This is what you want?" he asked.

"Yes, darling, it is." I smiled at him. "A first step. Later you’ll see how much fun it is to admit being my slave. You see, I know you really enjoy being humiliated." He looked up quickly, a terrified look in his eyes. "Its all right, darling Bob," I reassured him. "Its really all right - you’ll see."

I held his head in my lap for a long time, stroking his dark hair gently, cooing and reassuring him. He slowly began to relax; I could feel the tension leave his body. Finally he sighed and rose. Without another word he wobbled into the kitchen and began to prepare dinner.

The doorbell rang a half hour later. Dinner was almost ready; Cindy had arrived right on time. I tossed Bob the mask and he quickly pulled it on.

Opening the door I waved Cindy in. "Glad you could make it," I told her. She stepped inside and we hugged; then as she took a second step in she glanced toward the kitchen and saw a male dressed in high heels and a ridiculous maid’s uniform, wearing a mask. The pretty blonde stopped in her tracks!

"Its all right, Cindy," I told her. "I told you I had a plan, didn’t I? Well, this is it. I bet you never thought of treating Phil to a bit of his own medicine, did you?" I smiled and waved at Bob. "My maid here was once a man. Now he is only male. He’s my slave and does as I command."

Cindy’s eyes were wide as saucers! I pulled her inside and shut the door, then led her to the couch. "Cindy, would you like something to drink?" I asked. "A beer perhaps?"

Cindy nodded, unable to speak. Her eyes were glued to Bob as he brought two beers from the refrigerator and handed them to us, then walked back to the kitchen. She gulped the beer, obviously trying to decide if she should run screaming from this madhouse. But her curiosity got the better of her and she sat on the couch beside me as I chatted on about work, clothes, the weather. She hardly noticed me talking; she couldn’t take her eyes from the petticoated male in the kitchen, slicing lettuce and tomatoes for salad.

We sat at the table as Bob served our dinner. He stood beside my chair as a good servant, bringing us more beer and serving each dish with care. Cindy gradually began to loosen up; finally she seemed to accept my maid as another household fixture.

After dinner Bob brought us coffee as we returned to the couch. As he was washing the dinner dishes I explained to Cindy about our "arraignment", being careful to leave out any details which would identify Bob. Her eyes got wide; from time to time she’s say, "You mean he LIKES that?" ; or, "You mean he AGREED to that?" Poor little innocent girl! Her asshole husband had been her first lover and the two others she’d had in the two years since he’d left had basically been one night stands.

I explained to Cindy how perverted males actually were (I was still learning just how perverted myself, but I didn’t tell her that). I assured her that whatever sick, disgusting act she could think up in the darkest corner of her mind most men would agree to with pleasure. Poor things, I told her. They want so badly to please us!

The talk turned to sex. I told Cindy about the chastity tube. By now Bob was done in the kitchen. I had him stand in front of us and pull his panties down so Cindy could examine the tube and lock. "Don’t you think Phil would look nice like this?" I asked her. She giggled; the thought of revenge on her boss was sweet and she could just imagine him dressed in women’s clothes and wearing a chastity belt.

I had Bob kneel and Cindy and I continued to talk. I told her of Bob’s prowess with his tongue and fingers, how he had the ability to bring me to climax after climax; how eager he was to please me. I explained how he knew the key I wore around my neck gave me absolute power over him; how I was the only person who could provide the relief he so desperately craved.

Bob didn’t say a word. He knew it was all true.

As I talked I unconsciously began to stroke Cindy’s arm. She was sitting close; I could feel the heat from her body, Her nipples were hard; she was obviously excited. She looked so young; so vulnerable.

I reached over and turned her face toward mine. Leaning over I kissed her gently on her lips. She stiffened in surprise but soon her eyes closed and her lips softened and she returned my kiss.

Now it was Bob’s turn to have eyes wide as saucers! Cindy and I continued to kiss; I began to run my hands over her warm body. I heard soft moaning and thought it was her, then realized I was moaning as well.

I unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her soft shoulders. My hands ran all over her body, over the smooth satin of her bra, down her sides, up her thighs. I cupped her womanhood in my hand, feeling her wetness through the silken material of her panties. She began to moan louder and her hips began to rise and her legs spread as she eagerly offered herself to me.

My hand swept past the silken barrier. I felt her soft pussy, gently inserting two fingers into her slit. She moaned louder and her hips began to buck. I felt the muscles of her vagina clasping my fingers as she milked them.

Moaning loudly, head tossing from side to side, Cindy came. It was a hard orgasm, and her body stiffened then rose and fell, pumping against my hand. Finally it subsided. "God!" the pretty blonde breathed. "That was…"

"I know, darling," I breathed as I kissed her again.

"Jane…I need to tell you…I’ve never…You know, been with a woman before," she declared shyly.

"That’s all right, Cindy," I told her. "I’ve never been with a woman either."

That was the last thing either f us said for a long, long time. We walked into the bedroom, Bob following. He knelt at the foot of the bad as Cindy and I quickly undressed and climbed in.

Girls were almost as much fun as boys, I remember thinking. Not quite as nice - but almost.

That was my last coherent thought for a long time.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Jane Lincoln. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.