Surprise Amanda

Amanda slowly stands up, moaning gently with the aftermath of orgasm. Lisa sits on her legs, looking up at you as thought waiting instructions, afraid to act independently.

"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 you take it from her hands, smiling at her and shaking your head.

"You don't need that." She grins and wriggles a bit at you, shaking her pert little 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 you take that from her too.

“You don’t need that either.” She looks at you, her smile quavering a bit, searching your 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,” you answer calmly, draping her blouse over Lisa’s shoulder. “The whore can wear your clothes.” Amanda looks at you 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 partly draped over the still kneeling temp but you grab her wrist and pull her to you pushing your 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, slut.” Her face starts to crumple in dismay, tears trickling from her eyes. Biting her lip and looking at you 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 Lisa’s 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 you through her tears and stands waiting, obviously expecting more instructions. The shorts are as tight on her as they were on Lisa and if anything, her camel toe is even more pronounced.

“Dress the whore,” you order curtly, and with her chin wobbling she helps Lisa to her feet and slips the blouse over her shoulders. The ravished temp numbly buttons it, looking at you with apprehension. Her lush tits are too large for it, causing gaps between the buttons, leaving little to the imagination.

Openly weeping, Amanda helps her into the skirt, helping to tuck it in and zip it. Lisa murmurs something that may be thanks to her helper, then stands looking cowed and frightened at you. You lean against your desk and admire the sight of them.

Both of them look at least slightly bedraggled, Lisa far more so. They also both look incredibly slutty and whorish. What’s more, they look dismayed and tearful, the very picture of ravished and humiliated beauty, and all the more sexy for it.

“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,” you answer, seeing 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 can see her ambitious, conniving mind starting to work. A salacious grin quirks her lips as she looks at you.

“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 you with panic rising in her face and walks towards your door, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to be called back. She pauses at the door and looks at you in mute appeal, but you just stare at her with cruel finality in your face until she leaves.

“What are you going to do to me, sir?” Lisa asks 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?” She nods towards your door.

“I’ll do with you whatever I want to do. You’re mine until nine Sunday morning.” She sighs and bites her lip, nodding her defeat and acceptance of her fate.