We spent the remainder of the weekend enjoying each other’s bodies, taking breaks only to eat or wash up, or to catch some much-needed rest. I introduced the butt plug at various times throughout the weekend, trying to extend the amount of time that she kept it in. When it was finally time to take her back to the airport, I had her place the butt plug and collar in her purse, explaining that she might need it over the next two weeks.
Not elaborating any further on my cryptic remark, I kissed her goodbye at the security gates and headed for home.
The next day, once I had my office door closed and was assured some privacy for a bit, I called her at work, around 10 am her time. She was surprised to hear from me as I usually don’t call during her workday, but rather wait until the evening to speak with her. Needless to say, she was startled when I asked “happy to hear from me?”
Remembering the rules she quietly replied, “yes Sir.”
“I want you to grab your Bluetooth headset and put it on,” I ordered. Several months before we had bought these headsets so that we would be able to communicate hands-free while driving. This time around I had other ideas for its use.
“I have it on now, sir,” she replied, after several moments pause.
“Very well, I will call you right back and I want you to answer it with the headset this time,” I instructed. Hanging up, I waited several moments before dialling her number again. When she, answered her voice had a slight echo to it, now that she was using the headset. “I want you to head to the large toilet in front of your office.”
When she began to ask why, I cut her off with “no questions…just do as you’re told.”
“Yes sir.” I could hear her exit her office and then walk through the busy office area as the noise of various voices were picked up by the headset. When I heard a door open and then close, and the noise of voices disappeared, I knew she has entered the public toilet. Against one wall is a bank of sinks and large mirrors, while the other wall is occupied with 8 bathroom stalls.
“Take a stall in the middle,” I instructed. Once she had indicated that she was in a stall in the middle I ordered, “now take all of your clothes off except your heels, and hang them on the hook on the back of the door.”
Trying to keep her voice down, she began to plead, “please Sir…don’t…”
Cutting her off, I quickly added, “if you don’t do as I say this instant, the punishment will be even worse for you.”
Hearing the edge to my voice, Omolara didn’t push the matter further and, with a sigh, began to remove her blouse and skirt. Once they were off, she nervously stepped out of her panties and unclasped her bra, adding them to the clothes hanging from the door.
Waiting patiently on the other end, I finally heard a quiet, “it’s done, sir.”
“Very good. Now sit down on the toilet. Spread your legs wide and keep them open.” Giving her a few seconds to get in position I continued,
“Now grab each nipple with both hands and squeeze them hard. Don’t stop until I tell you to.” After a few seconds, I urged,
“harder.” When I heard her begin to mewl in pain, I finally told her to stop.
“Now with your right hand, do the same to your clit.” This time her breathing began to become more shallow and I could hear her grimace with pain as she complied with my demand. After a few seconds, I ordered her to stop.
“Alright, now listen to me carefully. You are going to start masturbating and you will not stop until you’ve had an orgasm. Even if someone comes into the bathroom, you will continue, is that clear?” I asked.
A very quiet “yes Sir” was heard and then nothing more as she bent to her task. After a minute has passed I could start to hear her breathing quicken, as she continued to become more and more aroused. Soon the sound of her fingers frigging her pussy could be faintly heard over the headset.
Suddenly, my wife gasped as she heard someone enter the bathroom.
“Do not stop rubbing yourself. If you do, it will simply make it worse for you,” I threatened.
The possible humiliation of being discovered, combined with the pleasure emanating from her aroused pussy, was making it very difficult for Omolara to not cum while the stranger was in the bathroom with her. I could hear the frustration in her breathing as she fought for control and to hold off the orgasm until she was alone again.
After hearing the toilet flush, followed by the sink running water, and then finally the sound of the air hand dryer ending, my wife was beside herself with pleasure. I knew it was taking every ounce of her control to not cum, and I wasn’t helping things either.
While she continued to masturbate with the stranger in the room, I began a running monologue berating her.
“Aren’t you a little slut? Sitting there naked in the public toilet fingering your pussy while some stranger is in the cubicle next to you. I bet you would like it if the person opened the door to your stall and began laughing at you and taking pictures to show everyone else in the office what a big slut you are. Maybe they would make you masturbate in front of everyone. Then they would all take turns using you like the whore you are.”
My words were having an effect on her, and her breathing was extremely ragged by the time I heard the bathroom door close. The moment it clicked shut, my wife whispered “oh God, I’m cumming Sir,” and began moaning softly into the headset, as she fought to contain her orgasm as best she could.
I didn’t talk to her again until that evening. She admitted then that it had been an incredible orgasm and that the prospect of possible public humiliation heightened it even more. I had suspected as much but wanted to hear it from her own mouth, not only for my benefit but also for hers.
I didn’t call her the next day at work as I wanted to keep her off balance – never knowing what I was going to have her do next. When I did call the following day around the same time, I could hear the nervous anticipation in her voice. When I began the conversation with, “how are we doing today ?” She knew something was going to happen.
“Fine Sir,” she quietly replied.
“Is your office door closed?” I asked.
“Good. Take your panties and bra off and place them in your dustbin. Make sure they are on top. Don’t go burying them on me,” I ordered.
“What? Here?” she asked.
“Would you rather I have you open the door to your office first?” I ask pointedly.
“No Sir, it’s just…” she began.
“Are you arguing with me? Shall I make the punishment worse?” I asked.
“No Sir. I’m sorry Sir. I’ll do it,” she hastily replied.
Putting the handset down on the desk, I could hear her begin to shuffle with her clothing as she pulled her panties down from under a very short skirt, which I had told her last night to wear today. She then pulled her bra off from under her white blouse and placed both on top of her wastebasket, knowing the janitor would get quite the surprise that night when he emptied the trash cans.
Finally, she picked the handset back up again and said, “it’s done, sir.”
“Very good. From now on, you will not be wearing underwear to work. You will also only wear skirts that are not longer or baggier than the ones you are wearing today. As well, you will only wear blouses for tops. Nothing else,” I emphasized.
“Yes Sir,” she replied meekly, but I could also hear the note of excitement in her voice as she said it.
When I spoke to her again that evening, she once again admitted that it turned her on to be walking around her office with no panties on, knowing that when she spoke to people they had no idea her pussy was bare and soaking wet underneath her skirt. She admitted that she was now getting a few stares from some of the younger men who were now noticing her more prominent nipples poking through her blouse.
While embarrassed by this, she was also getting turned on as well.
I informed her that evening, that starting the next day, her daily ritual would be to head into the bathroom at break both in the morning and the afternoon and to strip down and masturbate as she had done that first day with me on the phone. She would then call me once it was done to let me know. I wanted her to be having several orgasms a day to keep her sexually heightened and on edge.
As well, I knew that it also provided her with an outlet for the stress she was feeling around the office.
The next day, just prior to lunch, I called my wife and asked, “hello. Did you bring a lunch to work today?”
“Good. Put your headset on,” I instructed. When it was I done I continued, “Take your purse with you to the bathroom.”
When I once again heard the bathroom door close, she immediately took the centre stall, and sat down, waiting for further instructions.
“Now, I want you to undress again for me.” This time there was no argument from her as she quickly got naked. I’m sure she was probably thinking that I wanted her to masturbate again, even though she had just done that two hours ago.
My next command surprised her though. “Now reach into your purse, and take out your butt plug.”
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