I could hear her gasp as it dawned on her what it was I wanted her to do. With a nervous, “yes sir,” I could hear her shuffling through her purse. When she finally indicated that she had it, I then told her to,
“Shove that in your ass, now.” Though she had worn it off and on for small periods of time over the weekend, it had been four days since she tried to accommodate that thing in her ass.
At first, Omolara didn’t know where to start. She wasn’t sure what the best method would be for inserting the plug into her ass. She tried reaching between her legs as she sat on the toilet but found with the odd angle that she wasn’t able to get enough force to shove it in.
Shifting positions, she then tried standing in the stall and bending forward with her head nearly touching the stall door, as she reached behind her with the plug.
Omolara found that she could get the most force from this position, so she began working the plug into her ass. I could hear her grunting with exertion as she worked the plug deeper into her ass. An almost audible sigh was heard when the fattest part finally slipped past her sphincter and slid the rest of the way home.
“It’s done, sir.”
“Very good. Now get dressed.” After waiting for the word that she was done I continued with my instructions. “You will now make a point of visiting with each person in your office over the lunch period. When you speak with each of them, you will seat yourself in a chair or on the edge of a desk so that you are reminded, as you talk to them, that you have a cock in your ass. You will not take that plug out of your ass until after lunch at 2 pm.
You will head to your office and once inside, will take it out and place it back in your purse. Once done, you will call me to let me know how it went. Now get to it,” I ordered before hanging up.
When she called me back after lunch, I could hear the excitement in her voice as she described the events of the past hour. She indicated that she had difficulty walking about normally, and not like someone who has something shoved up her ass.
She found it humiliating feeling her ass being invaded by the cock each time she sat down in front of her employees and found it difficult to hide her embarrassment. She did admit though that she was immensely turned on and couldn’t wait until the afternoon break came so that she could go and masturbate in the toilet.
The next day I called my wife again just before lunch. “Hello, how are we doing today?”
“Well sir,” was the quiet reply.
“Put your headset on. We’re going out for lunch today,” I informed her.
When she had done as instructed, I had her make her way down to the eatery in the shopping mall across the street from her work. The eatery is a busy place as it services both the employees from the neighbouring office buildings and also the students from the university a few kilometres away.
After she had retrieved her meal, I instructed her to find a seat on one of the high stools located along one wall of the seating area. These stools are aligned along a high counter for eating but they also swivel 360 degrees around.
“Swivel yourself around in your seat until your back is against the counter,” I order.
“Now discreetly work the hem of your skirt up until it is just covering the tops of your thighs.” Once she had indicated that it was done, I continued.
“Describe for me the occupants of the tables in front of you.” Picturing the layout of the food court in my mind from my last visit there, I remembered that there are roughly 10 feet of space between the stools and the first row of tables.
“To my left, there are several groups of male office workers in their 30’s and 40’s eating lunch. Directly in front of me is an elderly couple; to my right is a group of 5 university students. 2 are girls and the other 3 are boys,” she finished.
“Good. Now take out your cell phone and pretend you are sending and receiving text messages. Now turn toward the group of students.” Once she was in position, I continued. “Slowly open your legs.”
“What? Here? Please…” she squeaked, panic rising in her voice.
“Don’t argue with me, or I’ll make it worse for you,” I replied menacingly.
With an audible sigh, she began to open her legs, which caused the hem of her skirt to ride up even higher. Once she had her legs spread wide enough that her bare pussy was on display for anyone who cared to look, I ordered her to hold that position.
“You will keep your legs spread for a full minute, and will only close them when I tell you to. Now appear distracted by your phone as if it’s an important message you are writing.” After several seconds had passed I asked, “keep your head down, but I want you to discreetly look to see if the teenagers have noticed your bare pussy.”
“Yes Sir, the boys have noticed and are now pointing it out to the two girls,” she replied in a whisper. “The girls are now laughing and I can hear them calling me ashawo. Please Sir, can I close my legs now?” she pleaded in embarrassment.
“Not yet. Let these young men and women see what a proper little whore you are. I bet your pussy is getting wet right now, isn’t it?” I asked. “Maybe you would like it if I had you walk over and offer yourself to them to be their little plaything. Hmm? Would you like that?” I asked. I knew my running monologue was affecting her as I could hear her breathing quickening.
After a minute had finally passed, I informed Omolara that she could close her legs and turn around to eat her lunch. By then all of the teenagers were laughing quite loudly, and words like ‘ashawo’ and ‘slut’ could be heard over the din of the food court.
In the weeks that followed, her workdays were filled with similar events. She was still masturbating twice a day in the public toilet and had now graduated to wearing the butt plug every day from 10 am until her second orgasm at 2 pm.
I had also thrown in the occasional flashing at the fast food, varying the recipients of her charms from male office workers much older than she was to gaggles of giggling female students and everything in between.
On the weekends that she came home, Omolara was kept naked and collared for most of it. It was on one of these weekends that I finally broke Omolara’s anal cherry. For this occasion, I used the video camera and again positioned it so that she was staring into the lens as I invaded her anal cavity. I made her describe to the camera in detail what I was doing and how it was making her feel. When we finally both came, the camera captured her most powerful orgasm. That same weekend, I took back Omolara’s butt plug and gave her a new one.
Some days after this, Omolara admitted to me one evening, during one of our routine phone calls, that her new lifestyle was helping her cope with the pressures and stress of her new job. She found herself looking forward to each day as she was never sure what I would have in store for her.
It was during one of these evening phone calls that Omolara informed me of news she had received that day at work. She had received word that a manager from one of the district sub-offices was off on sick leave indeterminately, and that head office wanted Omolara to fill in as manager of that branch as well. This meant she would be required to fly into this state twice a month to take care of business there for several days at a time.
Though she accepted the extra work without complaint, I could tell the prospect of the added stress was not sitting well with her.
It was on her first trip there that she had an unexpected meeting one day at a supermarket. She ran into an old friend of hers, Chinaza, who we had met years ago while studying at the same university. They had been best friends back then, but after graduation, and several transfers later, they had lost touch with each other. Now reunited, they talked like old hens for hours each evening, catching each other up on their lives.
Chinaza is very similar to my wife in that she is also a very strong-willed and independent woman. She is several inches taller than Omolara and her figure is shapely with breasts slightly smaller than Omolara’s, and an ass that can turn heads.
My wife revealed later to me, that her friend Chinaza had bought a house there several years ago after securing an administrative position with a teaching hospital. She indicated that Chinaza had offered to let Omolara stay at the house each time she went down for business, rather than staying in a hotel.
Having an old friend there to stay with each time helped Omolara with the transition and the extra work. In no time at all, the two of them were best of friends again, and they would occasionally get drunk on several bottles of wine some evenings. It was during one of these drunken times, my wife later confided, that the conversation eventually turned to sex. As is always the case; lips get loosened whenever alcohol is applied.
Chinaza ended up confiding to Omolara, that she hadn’t had sex in over a year. As they commiserated over that for a bit and more wine was drunk, my wife inadvertently let slip during the conversation that I had written several sex stories a while ago.
By this point, the girls were so drunk that they were practically falling and giggling at everything. When Chinaza expressed curiosity to read the stories, it never even occurred to Omolara to say no. She promptly stumbled over to her laptop and quickly navigated to the site where the stories had been uploaded. Pulling up the first one, Omolara passed the laptop to Chinaza.
As Chinaza read through the story, she would occasionally mutter an “oh my God” or a “damn”, but never stopped reading until she was finished. When she finally looked up from the computer, she asked Omolara if there were any more after several more glasses of wine. Omolara then pulled up the next two stories and once again passed the computer back to Chinaza.
Once Chinaza had finished reading the last story, the conversation remained firmly rooted around sex.
Chinaza admitted to my wife that she found herself turned on by the contents of the stories. Later, the two of them also admitted to each other that neither of them had been with another woman but that they wouldn’t be opposed to trying it. The conversation continued to go downhill from there until late in the evening, the decision was made to finally call it a night and head to bed.