Peeps or Keeps

At the sound of metal teeth grinding in the lock to her office door, Vanessa swept her makeup kit and lipstick off her desk, into a drawer, sliding it shut just in time.

Kind of just in time.

Not that she really should have to hide it, not like that, with guilt washing over her in a mad wave. Not that hiding it did her any good. It only made her more suspicious, look more guilty. Feel more guilty when Cheryl...

Cheryl eyed Vanessa suspiciously, sliding her key out of the door. Sliding the lanyard it hung from over her head, around her neck, so the key could slip down her blouse, and rest on bare skin of her chest. Rest, between her -

"I'd like for your door to remain unlocked, Vanessa."

Cheryl tested the handle, ensuring it was unlocked from the outside - as if there was any question of that.

She paused a moment. Maybe waiting for a protest. Or an acknowledgement. "I don't think its a good idea for you, mentally, to believe you have too much alone time. Too much private time with your..." Cheryl's stern tone contrasted, just for a moment, with a smirk that she nearly succeeded in suppressing, "Your self."

Between the webcam monitoring Vanessa and the fear, the real gut-wrenching fear of who might knock on her door, who might barge in like Timothy had, who might make her... Vanessa had hardly felt alone, or private, since returning to her office.

But she didn't argue with Miss Cheryl. Couldn't think of how to tell Cheryl how scared she was each time her door opened. Why she wanted it locked. Why she was scared. Couldn't think of a way to make Cheryl trust her to be left alone with h-her... self, as Cheryl put it. Not after having been caught being naughty so many times already.

... Nessie could hardly think at all with Miss Cheryl around. Period.

"I got a chance to look at your e-mail response."

The brunette professional let the handle go. Let the door click shut behind her with an indescribable finality that made Vanessa shiver and shift.

The door shut, and then silence. Had her office always been so hot? Cheryl's words hung in the air, thick and heavy. Words about Vanessa's work.

Vanessa... had she done something wrong? Again? She couldn't have. Please, no. Had she been distracted...? Well, she had certainly been distracted - looking at, thinking about, and kissing a picture of the beautiful young brunette in front of her. Kissing Miss Cheryl. Being kissed by -

"You did much better. Your work. It looked very good." Cheryl's words were a cool breeze. Tension left Vanessa's shoulders. The older black woman felt a silly rush of pride, followed by overwhelming shame. Shame at her implied incompetence - that Vanessa deserved any praise at all for completing, late, a work assignment from her secretary. An assignment well within the training expected from an intern.

Still, Nessie found herself nodding. Bashfully pleased that Miss Thomas - "I need you, Vanessa." Nod. "Working. Much more, and much better than... than how it went earlier today. I'm willing to look past certain... behaviors, even if it means..."

Cheryl cleared her throat, and looked to the side. Blushing, with a tiny smile tugging the corners of her lips upward.

"It's... this is really embarrassing for me," She whispered, half to herself.

Vanessa knew the feeling. She wasn't sure what Cheryl was getting at, but the young woman's tone, her flushed face... it wasn't like her, at all. She was usually direct. Something was making Vanessa squirm in her chair. She -

Cheryl started again. Still not looking at Vanessa, still almost talking to herself, "I talked some with Mr. Barrington and... well, it was actually, kind of, Jen's idea. Initially."

"Not really an idea. More like a joke. We were, you know, kidding. Talking about..."

Yes, Vanessa knew. Talking about her. Joking about her, gossiping, sharing. Laughing, with poor Cheryl groaning as Jenny put her own spin on it.

"But, well, the more I thought about it, it seemed to almost, kind of, make sense. Looking at you," Miss Thomas gave Vanessa an appraising look,"And then now having talked about it with Brand a bit over lunch..."

Brand. Vanessa felt a lump in her throat. Cheryl skirted... s-skirted around whatever she was -

Then she stopped. She stopped looking away. Stopped smiling in embarrassment. Stopped stalling. She took a breath, and very seriously asked, "How would you feel about... a little reward? When you do well. A reward, like..."

The white woman's hazel eyes rolled. Rolled and then centered, holding Vanessa's own eyes tight. "A nice, long look." Vanessa blinked. Her mouth dropped, a bit, flopped open and stayed - "A peep - at something you'd like to see. Or, alternatively, we could get you... something to keep. Something of mine, if you'd like."

The hairy private place between Vanessa's legs, recent and release and all, decided that the low tingling sensation it had been emitting since Miss Thomas' entrance wasn't enough. It gushed.

"Since you did do well, I'd be willing to allow... allow that choice."

Vanessa closed her mouth and swallowed. She had to swallow again, immediately, "I don't... what choice?"

Cheryl's jaw set. Her mouth became a hard line.

"Please, Vanessa. I'm really trying. I'm trying to work with you here. With your distractions. As incentive I might - I could, sometimes, offer you a peep, or something of mine to keep. You did as you were told. So... is that something you'd like to try?"

Vanessa couldn't... couldn't believe what she was hearing. What she was being asked. What she would answer -

"Y-yes," The ebony woman's voice quivered with all sorts of very, very different emotions. Tangled emotions, painful emotions. Not one of which stopped her from affirming, repeating, breathing,"Yes, Miss Thomas."

"... And?"

And? Vanessa wanted to ask, but Cheryl didn't look like she wanted -

O-oh. A p-peep... Eww, the very word was so pervy. Or...

"I'd like... would it be possible..."

Vanessa knew exactly what she wanted. But asking...

Did she dare ask? It seemed like a joke. A cruel prank.

Cheryl couldn't be serious.

"Could I... I, m-maybe..." Vanessa lost her voice for a moment, "..v. ...r p..t..s?" And didn't find it.

"Vanessa." Miss Thomas had lost patience.

It was a long moment before Vanessa worked up the courage to ask, to make sure her voice was up to the task, to ask for, "P-Panties?" Vanessa blurted, face hot. There... there was no going back, no... "Do you mean that I could get your...?"

The question dangled. Vanessa couldn't finish. Couldn't. She... she... squeezed - in embarrassment, in humiliation... god, in wet anticipation.

"My panties?"

Cheryl's perfectly normal, level speaking voice sounded like a shout to Vanessa's ears. The black woman flinched, half expecting to be yelled at. Laughed at. She... she nodded, mutely, not daring to meet Cheryl's eyes. The sitting negro woman's sweaty palms and fingers rubbed the tops of her bare legs, thighs to knees - forward... and backward...

"You only get one reward." Cheryl's voice was final. Her look was, too.

"That means no peeping. Are you able to do that?" Cheryl's sounded more than a little doubtful. Not about her end of the bargain. About whether the colored woman she was sharing an enclosed space with was even capable of keeping her eyes averted while the young white lady removed her panties.

Vanessa's turned her lips inwards, nibbled the inside of her plump top lip, and nodded.

"I want you to say it out loud. There need to be clear boundaries on this, Vanessa. With us. I have to be able to work with you."

I want you to say it out loud. Like Carter. Be respectful. Appreciative. Nigger. Monkey. Chimp. F-fu-

Fuck. "I understand, Miss Thomas. If I get your... your p-panties, I don't get p-peeps. I can get a reward, if I'm a good gir-uh-worker. If I do what I'm told. Th-Thank you," Vanessa's voice quivered, her words getting thicker. "Thank you, Miss Thomas. Thank you, thank you."

The middle-aged executive swallowed back an unseemly amount of anticipatory saliva.

"Th-thank you..." Vanessa said, a little quieter. A lot meeker.

Cheryl looked a lot uneasy.

"I... think it would be best if you went to the corner of your office for this, Nessie."

Vanessa, confused but not wanting to jeopardize her chance at possessing her secretary's used panties, nodded like she understood and tottered over to the corner of her office.

Cheryl sighed. Vanessa... what had she done wrong? She hadn't argued or -

"Not just in the corner. Facing the corner, Nessie." Oh! Oh, that... "Why don't we - nose touching the wall, too, so you're not tempted to turn."

That... Cheryl's orders, distressingly, made sense. Vanessa nodded helplessly and turned, shifting her high-heeled feet around and around until, like a child, she stood facing the plain, off-white wall of her office.

To complete the feeling of childish helplessness, Vanessa's broad black ass still stung from her spanking. At a more intimate distance than she'd ever been before with her office wall, the boosted swells of her recently abused half-bared breasts smooshing, Vanessa leaned in, nose-first -

Lips first. Her freshly painted, cherry-red lips touched the wall before her nose got close. She sucked and tucked them back in, and still, her prominent mouth, her ape lips, touched at the same time as her wide-nostrilled, flat-tipped nose. It was bad enough that she would already be leaving a tiny brown makeup spot from her nose and cheeks on the clean wall, but...

Vanessa, chimpy nose further flattened, claustrophobically stuck in a corner, fat lips suck-tucked in, tried to look down past her broad nostrils. Tried to see if she had left a telltale lipstick spot on the wall.

Clothing rustled behind her. It was quiet. Too quiet. Her own suppressed breathing hot in her ears and moist on her face, her all-too-exposed chest brushing the cool wall...

Vanessa could hear it. Every bit of it. She could hear Miss Cheryl shimmying up her tight, gray pencil skirt. Up, and up, up her slender, creamy thighs.

Lifting her skirt up, where she could uncover... the thought of Cheryl's ... Miss Thomas's... M-Mommy's... what was coming to Vanessa...

Vanessa was going to moan. She couldn't. She had to be good. Respectful. No peeping. Press her nose in hard, hard against the wall to make sure.

Fabric whispered. She couldn't believe what was happening. What she was doing. What Cheryl... what Cheryl was doing behind her.

Fabric whispered. Vanessa could hear it. With her eyes rendered momentarily useless, Vanessa was keenly attuned to her other senses. Smelling herself, her arousal. Listening to Cheryl. Feeling her own hot breath and squished breasts and her lips -

Her- her lips!

No, dammit! Vanessa's fingernails dug into her palms. Thinking about her secretary, Miss Cheryl, so close by - removing her p-panties for Nessie... the black woman had relaxed her lips. She had ceased drawing them in, and not only were they touching the wall...

They were really touching the wall. Almost... not almost. They were. They were k-kissing it! With a fresh coat of lipstick on, Vanessa was kissing the wall like a...!

"Vanessa?"

N-Nigg-! Idiot! Miss Cheryl was going to take them away. She was going to - "I-I'm..." Nessie began, her brown face squished against the wall, a sob in her throat. Welling, rising. Threatening and growing and -

"You can turn around, now."

And... releasing. Slowly, releasing, while Vanessa slowly turned, blinking back tears. She hadn't been noticed kissing. Kissing the fucking wall. She- she was so pathetic. Vanessa had been ready to lose it, lose it all over again. Over...

Panties. Panties the color of pale lilacs. Vanessa gasped, a tiny girly gasp, and her high-heeled feet moved. Slowly floated, hardly noticing the balancing act of stepping in her high heels.

Cheryl dangled the prize from one slender finger. One lacquered nail. Vanessa's eyes followed it. Them. The panties, as they swayed.

She needed them.

"You really want them, don't you?" From behind the swaying prize, Cheryl peered, studying Vanessa's face. Her eyes weren't annoyed, and weren't amused. They were... curious. Studying. Examining her boss. The strange, female thing that had been her boss.

"Yes, Miss Thomas," Vanessa whispered.

Cheryl raised a hand, and Vanessa's heart fluttered in fear. But she didn't flinch, and Cheryl didn't hit her. She stroked her nails lightly through the black woman's natural hair. Lightly enough, kindly enough, that she bypassed any tangles or snarls without tugging.

"Go ahead, Nessie."

Vanessa was careful, very careful not to tug them. Not to be disrespectful and touch Miss Thomas' finger. Not to drop them. Like they were made of delicate tissue. Like they were a dream that might blow away if she breathed too hard.

"Thank you, Miss Thomas," Vanessa whispered, and... she finally let the air she had been holding out of her lips. Breathing out, then breathing in, and...

Oh, fuck. Oh, god. They...

"I should mention that lunch went a little long because Mr. Barrington and I were..." Cheryl hesitated, then laughed a short, silvery laugh. "I'm sorry, this whole thing is very embarrassing for me. I suppose I don't need to explain anything about the state of my panties to you, do I?"

"Yes. I mean, n-no, Miss..." Vanessa swallowed. The panties her hands were turning, fondling, were lightly fragrant, slightly damp along the gusset. They were the color of sweet flowers. They smelled like Miss Cheryl's... her pale flower.

They were perfect.

"Perfect?" Though her face was straight, Cheryl's voice was smiling.

Vanessa wobbled on her heels. She hadn't said that out loud! Had she? Or had Cheryl just...?

Cheryl cleared her throat.

"Vanessa, I know it's been a long morning for you. Well, it's been a long morning for me, too, okay?

Miss Thomas smoothed her skirt. Her skirt, where she would now be bare underneath. Like Vanessa. If the two women lifted up their skirts... Cheryl's professional skirt, Vanessa's short red dress, their bottoms would be naked next to each other. They were so close, with open air circulating under each of them, almost in reach. Almost, almost able to touch, to -

"Are you listening, Nessie?" She lightly gripped the panties Vanessa was playing with, stilling them. Threatening them.

"Y-yes, Miss Cheryl. Miss Thomas. Yes." Vanessa nodded guiltily, tore her eyes away from Cheryl's slim stomach, concealed by a white button-up blouse. From her gray skirt, where her thighs met.

"That's not a fib, is it?" Cheryl looked right into Vanessa's big, brown eyes. Right into her dirty, lesbian thoughts.

"No, Miss Thomas. I-I can listen. I mean, I was listening. I mean, I will, and was listening, and, and I -" One of Vanessa's thumbs made little circles in the panties, but Cheryl's hand... it hadn't let go.

Cheryl just looked at Vanessa until she stopped blathering. Until the black woman shut her fat, flapping lips.

"... It's been a long morning." Cheryl repeated, somewhat less kindly. "It's going to be a long afternoon. I don't need any more distractions." Cheryl paused, and corrected herself, "You don't. This is going to be a distraction, isn't it?"

Vanessa shook her head. She gently tugged the panties. Miss Thomas didn't yield. That... Mo-mMi-Miss Thomas wasn't being fair! She had already given Vanessa the panties. She -

"I can still smell your trash. You didn't empty it. You've been up to something."

"Please, Cheryl... you promised. M-Miss Thomas..." Vanessa pleaded, and tugged again.

Miss Cheryl let the panties go. She let Vanessa have her panties. Vanessa's moment of shameful, needy elation was short-lived, as Cheryl brushed past her, making a bee-line for her desk.

"What else do you have distracting you? Pornography?"

"N-no!" Though Cheryl couldn't see her, Vanessa shook her head as she stumbled along behind her secretary.

After a quick, disgusted glance down into Nessie's messy trashcan, now more full than ever, Cheryl rounded Vanessa's desk and gave the older woman a look that nailed her forward-shuffling feet to the floor.

"I told you no more lying. You were watching pornos during lunch."

N-no! "No!" Not... that. What Vanessa had done during lunch was far... far worse than watching porn. Far more embarrassing. Timothy and... what she had done with Cheryl.

"Weren't you?"

"No, I promise! I promise, I didn't. I'm not..."

"... Not what?"

"Not... fibbing. I didn't watch p-porn." Vanessa said bashfully, eyes down, her head swirling with worse trespasses. Maybe she should have lied, nodded along with watching porn and -

"What, then?" Cheryl waited a moment, looking up. Giving Vanessa a chance to explain. But when the black woman stared, slack-jawed and dumb, Miss Cheryl moved along without her.

"Is it whatever you hid in your desk when I came in?"

Vanessa's stomach dropped, right to her wobbly brown knees.

Cheryl opened a drawer.

Fuck! No. No, Vanessa... she needed to speak! To convince or distract or -

"Th-that was... no. J-just makeup," Vanessa squeaked out brokenly, "Just makeup," She repeated, as strong as she could, as clearly as she could out of her tight throat - while being perfectly, torturously aware that her words barely made sense.

It was the best Vanessa could manage. It was the truth.

Cheryl ignored her.

"Is it a dildo?"

Completely ignored her, and finished her search. The heavy, well-maintained wooden drawer shut closed with a thump that threatened to stop Vanessa's poor, thumping heart.

Cheryl opened another.

No. Cheryl would see it.

Vanessa had seconds. Barely seconds. Less. She couldn't... her mouth moved, but her voice wouldn't...

Her voice... couldn't. Her mouth was a soundless, useless hole. It couldn't help her. She had to take action. She had to stop Cheryl.

She would. It was the only way.

Vanessa prepared herself, committed herself. She would leap right over her desk if she had to.

She had to. She would.

... She would just as soon as her cowardly, shaking legs obeyed the very clear message her brain was sending. She would take whatever scolding Miss Cheryl gave her. Any beating. Any... any whooping. Anything, anything but having the young white woman see what she had hastily swept away when Timothy entered.

Vanessa did nothing.

And Miss Cheryl found something that drained her face of all color.

Vanessa's mouth made little tiny movements. Completely soundless complaints while her hands clutched Cheryl's panties to her breasts. Scrunching them and holding them up to her heart in both hands like it was her favorite dollie.

Vanessa shook her head. Back and forth. She didn't...

"Vanessa...!"

"I-I can explain... Miss... Thomas."

Words, rote words found their way out of Vanessa's mouth. For a moment the air was still, waiting for more from her. Her explanation.

That was it. Nessie had no idea of how to explain what Miss Cheryl had found. She was sick. Sick in the head. Sick in the heart. Sick in her stomach.

Sick in between her legs. More, more than before. Sickly squirming... and the still silence ended. Cheryl picked up a flimsy, plastic-protected paper sheet out of Vanessa's desk drawer.

Cheryl laughed, and then gasped. She stopped laughing. The young woman, barely seeming aware of her own surroundings--a defiled portrait of herself in her hand, held in front of her face--absently pulled up Vanessa's rolling office chair with her free hand, and sat. The same delicate hand went to her lips, covered her horrified mouth.

Cheryl dropped her hand from her mouth, and ripped her eyes away from her smooch-stained portrait. "Holy fucking shit, Nessie."

Vanessa had never heard Cheryl utter a curse harder than 'dammit' or 'hell' before. Not ever.

"This... this is..." For a moment, the young white woman was speechless.

Vanessa's whole body was hot, sick and hot. Like she was roasting in an oven of pure, mortified embarrassment. Burning.

"I thought the peeping was creepy. Your stuff dripping down your thighs. But... my face? In your desk, with your lipstick - your kisses all over it? I don't even..."

"We - " Vanessa had been on a roller coaster. Highs and lows and fear and doubt and... she clung to Cheryl's panties. She turned her eyes away, down, so that she couldn't see Cheryl. Just the panties, and, fully aware of Cheryl looking, horrified...

It was a kind of bottom. She couldn't go any lower. Vanessa couldn't be more vile, more disgusting, no matter what.

Vanessa sniffed Cheryl's panties. She stuck them right up to her nose, and sniffed her her broad nostrils. Deep. She had nothing to lose. She wanted to feel them against her lips, greedily smell every bit of them, taste -

Wisely, Vanessa stopped herself short of tasting Cheryl's panties, for the moment. The heady scent of clean, white pussy cleared the worst of her fear away.

"It helped me." Vanessa said, not daring look anywhere close to Cheryl's face. Not wanting to know what kind of stricken expression was written on the young woman's features. "I know it's creepy. Peepy, creepy, I know that. I know that. But wh-when I d-did good," Vanessa suppressed a sob. She had to hold on. She had to, "Y-y-y-you kissed me."

The tightness was creeping back. Vanessa couldn't help but peek at Cheryl's face.

That... that was a mistake. Miss Cheryl looked...

Vanessa had to finish.

She rushed on, quickly, before her throat seized again, her. "I worked." Vanessa swallowed. It was hard, so hard and, "And I kissed you. The picture of you, and you kissed me. I mean, pretend. Make-believe," She was losing it. It hurt. God it hurt, "When I got something d-d... y-you told me I d-d-did g-good and you patted my... y-you kissed me and told me I was g-g-gu-goo-" Vanessa was going to throw up. It was even worse than when she had started. She was sniffing and bouncing and sobbing, tears flowing down her cheeks. Her makeup already ruined. Again. She was pathetic, creepy. Her explanation made it worse. Everything she did was wrong. Naughty. Bad. A bad girl. Bad. Sick. M-Mommy would n-never f-f-f-forgive...

Vanessa stomped a heel, and breathed in deep. Breathed in Cheryl's calming scent. She - she would have to give the panties back. No more favors. No more rewards. It would be for the best. She needed to stop. This wasn't... she was sick. The portrait, the panties, she -

"I told you that you were... good?"

Vanessa, clutching Cheryl's panties to her mouth, sniffling back her runny nose, s-sucking them into her suck-tucked lips, trying to keep lipstick off them while she sucked in the gusset and gently tongued... Vanessa nodded.

"Come here." Cheryl instructed. Firmly, but...

It... Miss Cheryl didn't seem mad. Not as mad. Not... Vanessa obeyed, shuffling her feet forward. Tiny little bits, tiny steps, little itty-bitty -

"Now, Vanessa!" Cheryl commanded, much harsher, startling her boss into action. Nessie moved her feet, not itty-bitty. She moved her sticky black cunt swiftly, teetering on her heels, around her desk, to Cheryl. She stood close. Respectfully close, not too close, and...

Just stood. Confused and lost, waiting for further instructions.

Miss Cheryl's legs were crossed, knee on top of knee. Her plastic covered portrait was folded over in one hand. Folded, but not creased, not ruined, and she tapped it, where the edges joined, on Vanessa's desk.

Tap... tap...

Tapping, looking up at Vanessa. Face inscrutable, lips pursed.

... While Vanessa waited. Quietly, anxiously. Waited, standing, Miss Cheryl's panties in her hands. Stretching them and touching them and -

Cheryl set the picture down, face down, and swiveled her rolling chair. Vanessa's office chair. She stood, and brushed the leather seat a single time before turning it back towards Vanessa and patting it.

"Sit, Nessie."

Vanessa sat. She sat, and Cheryl rolled her into place. Like before.

"It helped you work? This... picture of me? Being told you were good?"

Vanessa's heart fluttered. She... she didn't understand. Except... she nodded.

"Getting... kisses? It helped you work?"

It was so, unbelievably humiliating. Vanessa nodded again, fresh tears in her eyes, old tears drying on her cheeks.

"Yes, Miss Cheryl."

Yes, Mommy.

"... You want to keep it? You'll need to be... good. Be a good girl," Be a good girl, "And keep your office clean. And do your work."

Be a good girl. Cheryl was right there, in person, not in her imagination, telling her... Vanessa's thighs clenched and -

"Same with the panties, and any other rewards you earn. I will take them away if I think it's distracting, if it's no longer helping."

God dammit. Why had Vanessa let her find the picture? Why why why...?

"Yes," Vanessa managed, her voice a hoarse, choked whisper.

Cheryl, after a long moment, sighed. From behind, she reached over Vanessa's shoulder. Leaned over Vanessa, brushed up against the black woman, her body heat radiating over Vanessa, and... flipped her defaced portrait right side up.

The young woman took a step back, leaving Vanessa so... so much emptier, without Miss Cheryl leaning over her. Without the heat of her warm body. Vanessa looked at the smooch-stained picture she was allowed, then up at the real thing.

"I guess... in perspective... it's not, strictly, worse than all of..." A white hand fluttered, waved, gestured broadly up-and-down to the person of Vanessa.

"It's even, a little bit..." Cheryl paused, cutting off her own thought. Once again her hand ventured into Vanessa's poofy hair and... stroked. She petted, and patted. She stroked her lacquered nails through Vanessa's fluffy, nappy tangle.

"What am I supposed to do with you?"