Mistress Laurel

You finish and Meghan pulls off your shaft, licking any stray cum off your balls and pubes. She sees Laurel and startles, shrieking, "Oh, my God!" Some cum dribbles down her chin and lands on her boobs.

Laurel takes off her coat, revealing a black bustier and black leather pants with black patent leather heels, looking totally the dom.

"Let me introduce your trainer, Laurel, my wife."

"You ... your wife?" Meghan asks.

"She used to have your position. Then she married me. So she is expertly trained in dictation and other skills. There's Chinese on the way when you get hungry."

"Hi, please call me Mistress. Let's begin."

"Yes, Laurel ... Mistress."

Laurel opens her suitcase and takes out a switch. "You will be bent over the desk to be smacked every time you use the wrong name. Assume the position."

Meghan says nothing and leans her arms on the desk. Your wife moves over and swats Meghan five times rapidly on the buttocks. Meghan squeaks each time, and when finished she starts panting hard. Her sexual aroma is filling the office. "Thank you, Mistress."

"That's more like it. Now, let's start with simple dictation."

"Don't you want me to get dressed, Mistress?"

"No, this attire works perfectly."

A knock at the door interrupts. You grab the food and bring it to the desk. "Eat when you're hungry."

"Thank you, Mistress ... I mean Sir."

TWACK-TWACK-TWACK-TWACK-TWACK

Meghan moans and shakes as she comes, her juices running down her legs.

"Oh, I see why I'm here," Laurel says.

"Yes, she needs a firm hand, so to speak."

"I'll have her whistling Dixie in no time," Laurel replies. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, dictation."