she had to

I would dress and act as I was ordered by the client. I had signed up to it..... thus I pulled the skimpy pink silk panties down to my knees, and then, turning to face her, I wriggled my pussy for her pleasure.

"All the way down to your ankles," Nicola insisted, pointing at my knickers.

I leaned forwards and pushed them down to my ankles, somehow managing to keep dancing as I did so.

"That's nice, slut." she said. "Wriggle that pussy for me. I want to see that pussy wriggle."

I obeyed. I bent my head back, arching my back, jutting my breasts out even further, the nipples shamefully erect. I shook my hips frenetically for her, offering her my pussy.

"I want to see your asshole now," she demanded.

Without hesitating, I turned away from her, panties still wrapped around my ankles, and leaned forwards. I was acting without her explicit instruction – degrading myself almost voluntarily.

"Spread those cheeks, whore", she growled.

She had called me a 'whore'! Sadly, it felt strangely appropriate. I was a whore, wasn't I? I had agreed to take of my clothes and gyrate naked in return for money... That was the lot of a whore, wasn't it?

I spread my legs apart, pried open my bum-cheeks with my fingers and wriggled my asshole for her.

"More." She barked.

I pulled my cheeks further apart, displaying my anal passage to her.

"You're not wriggling fast enough, bitch" she said harshly.

I wriggled my asshole furiously for her. I was worthless, bent over before her, my panties around my ankles, spreading my buttocks open with my fingers. Time seemed to get stuck, the humiliation was unending.

"Next time, slut," she said, "I don't expect to have to remind you how to dance for me."

Next time? There would be a next time? My heart sank.

I was still wriggling my asshole for her. When would she let me stop?

"In future, if you are lucky enough to be here again" she went on, "when I clap my hands together, you will pull your panties down, turn around, bend over, spread your legs, and wriggle your arsehole for me, just as you are now. Understood slut?"

I squealed a small "Yes miss".

"And when I clap my hands together while you are in that position, you will pull your panties up tightly around your crotch, curtsy for me, and then kneel at my feet. Is that understood?"

I nodded, mumbled another small "yes miss".

"Let's try that now," she said, and clapped her hands together sharply.

I released my buttocks, reached down and scooped up my panties from my ankles. I drew them up quickly to my knees, then up around my hips. I pulled them tightly up the crack of my bum, just as she had instructed. How shamefully obedient I was. The tears flooded down my cheeks as I turned towards her and curtsied politely.

What a tragedy: I had just curtsied to one of the CEO's bleached-blonde secretaries. We all used to laugh about them strutting about like tarts in their micro-skirts and high heels at my dads office I was now effectively lower than the low... what a whore... what a pathetic slut I have become...

I knelt at her feet (actually glad to take the weight off my ankles) and gazed resignedly at the delicate straps of her heeled sandals.

"You've stopped wriggling," she said. "I didn't tell you to stop."

Immediately I resumed writhing for her.

"Hands on your hips, whore." She ordered.

I obeyed, numb.

"That is the position you must adopt. Don't forget it. And don't stop wriggling next time. You are a dancer – so keep dancing. If you want to smile, you can."

I didn't dare refuse. I **** a smile, desperately trying to look happy about wiggling my naked body for her while kneeling at her feet and gazing at her ankles.

A few hours ago I had been preparing to dance topless for the CEO and probably fuck the CEO. The very thought of that had been appalling enough. But there I was instead, panties pulled up high over my hips, kneeling before one of his secretaries; alert to the clap of her hands so that I could stand, pull my knickers down to my ankles, bend over, spread my legs, open my ass and wriggle it for her.

Why did I keep obeying her? I was worth more than that, surely?

"Good," Nicola congratulated me. "Very good. You're a good sweet little slut."

Curiously I felt glad that I was, in fact, a good girl.

"I'm going to tell the CEO you refused to dance for me," she said suddenly.

What? What!? She couldn't do that – could she?! I had obeyed her every instruction. I had danced well for her – hadn't I? Wasn't I still dancing well for her?

"Unless..." she added slowly, "you sit that delicious asshole of yours down on my middle finger and show me what an obedient slut you are."

Oh my God! Sit on her middle finger! - That wasn't in the agreement, was it? They had said no touching, hadn't they? I couldn't humiliate myself like that.

"I..." I stammered. "I'd rather, I mean, I'd prefer not to, please, miss"

"Well, it's up to you," she said coldly.

There was a deafening silence. I was still wriggling my asshole for her. She would tell the CEO I had refused to dance! Oh shit - that would mean... Well that would mean the end of everything I had been struggling so hard to build up.... the money I needed wouldn't come... oh god

"I was asked to dance, miss", I sniveled. "Not to do all... that."

"Life's a bitch," she said sharply. "Sit on my finger and I'll tell the CEO you danced wonderfully for me. I just want to see you wriggle your butt on my finger, that's all."

I stopped swaying my breasts for her. In an instant I knew I was walking out right there and then. That was it. The end. Finito. I had had enough.

I stood up, turned away from her.

I took a step forwards. I was out of there. I was gone.