He punishes Amanda

Amanda slowly stands up, moaning gently with the aftermath of orgasm. You sit back on your haunches, looking up at Mr. Chandler in submission, awaiting whatever act of degradation he will demand next.

"Mmmmm, that was good sir," Amanda purrs. "My ass is getting used to you. I think you're training me well." She picks up her bra but he takes it from her hands, smiling at her and shaking his head.

"You don't need that." She grins and wriggles a bit at him, shaking her pert breasts.

"You want a souvenir, sir?" she grins. "That's okay with me, as long as you don't mind my nipples showing through my blouse all day." She reaches for her blouse but he takes that from her too.

“You don’t need that either.” She looks at him, her smile quavering a bit, searching his eyes.

“Do you want me to sit in your office naked all day, sir?” she asks with an uncertain coquettishness.

“No. You can wear the clothes you bought today,” he answers calmly, draping her blouse over your shoulder. “The whore can wear your clothes.” Amanda looks at him in horror.

“Sir, I can’t! I’d be embarrassed. I can’t dress like that in the office! You can’t make me!” She reaches for the blouse but he grabs her wrist and pulls her to him, pushing his face close to hers, staring coldly into her eyes.

“I can and I will. It’s your punishment for presuming to know my mind, and for interfering in my punishment of this thieving slut. Now pick up the clothes you bought and put them on, bitch.” Her face starts to crumple in dismay, tears trickling from her eyes. Biting her lip and looking at him with sullen resentment, she picks up the red t-shirt and puts in on, wiping her eyes as she does so. Her smaller breasts don’t stress the fabric as much as your ripe orbs, but her nipples are still very evident and the shirt only covers her to just above her belly button. She looks as if she is about to protest again, but bites her lip again and with a choked little sob, pulls on the shorts.

She glares defiantly at him through her tears and stands waiting, obviously expecting more instructions. The shorts are as tight on her as they were on you and if anything, her camel toe is even more pronounced.

“Dress the whore,” he orders curtly, and with her chin wobbling she helps you to your feet and slips the blouse over your shoulders. You button it, looking at him with apprehension. Your lush tits are too large for it, causing gaps between the buttons, leaving little to the imagination.

Openly weeping, Amanda helps your into the skirt, helping to tuck the blouse in. You murmur thanks to her, then stand looking cowed and frightened at him as he leans against his desk and admires the sight of the two of you

You know you look bedraggled, and you both look incredibly slutty and whorish. Amanda is as dismayed and tearful as you, the very picture of ravished and humiliated beauty.

“Are you going to make me work the rest of the day dressed like this?” Amanda whimpers.

“No. I’m going to let you take the rest of the day off,” he answers, and you see her start to smile in relief. “On two conditions. First, you walk over and tell your boss that you’re feeling sick and have to go home.”

“Dressed like this? Oh please Mr. Chandler, don’t…don’t be so mean,” she holds out a hand in supplication.

“Be quiet. The second condition is you spend tonight and tomorrow night at my home.” She brightens a little at that, and you see a salacious grin quirk her lips.

“I can do that. I’d like to do that. But can’t I just phone my boss about going home instead of walking through the office like this? Please sir? I’ll do ever so many things for you this weekend. I’ll do anything you want, anything at all. Please sir, can’t I just phone him.”

“No. You can walk down and tell him personally. Do it now. I expect you back here in five minutes,”

“Please sir! Please don’t make me! Please….”

“You have four minutes, slut.” She looks at him with panic rising in her face and walks towards your door, glancing over her shoulder as if hoping to be called back. She pauses at the door and looks at him in mute appeal, but he just stares at her with cruel finality until she leaves.

“What are you going to do to me, sir?" you ask in a low, trembling voice.

“You’re going to spend the next two nights at my home as well, slut.”

“You’re going to keep using me all that time? And her too?” You nod towards the door.

“I’ll do with you whatever I want to do. You’re mine until nine Sunday morning.” You sigh and bite your lip, nodding your defeat and acceptance of your fate.