Her low cut blouse only showed off her amazing cleavage while her waitresses’ skirt was teasingly short. She was looking for her bag in the restaurant while I watched her bend over and move about. I stopped doing the accounts and thought about how much our boss, who is also my husband, liked her.

We have invited all our waitresses over for dinner and now it was her turn. I asked her if Friday night would be good for her for dinner. “Who wouldn’t love to have dinner with their boss and his wife?” she replied.

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I was pleased with myself for being able to give my husband a treat. I love group sex, and last week he had invited a couple of guys over and made it happen. I felt a tinge of excitement when the doorbell rang. My husband opened the door to find a ravishing woman wearing a short flared dress. Her boobs as usual, were on display.

“Let’s get some music playing” he said. I put on a CD and he took her by the hand for a dance. He inched closer and closer to her and eventually had his hands on her butt. He gave me a sly smile. I could see him put one hand underneath her skirt.

I almost expected her to object, but she didn’t. I bet she wanted it too. My husband stuck his finger in her wet pussy. She looked at me shyly and I walked up to her to allay her fears. I did so by sticking my finger in her pussy as well. His fingers and mine were covered in her cum.

She started kissing my husband while I began massaging her boobs. I took her dress off and she was standing in her soaked thong. We lay her on the floor and my husband stuck his dick in her mouth while I started eating her pussy, her sweet juicy pussy.

I could see him almost reach an orgasm when he pulled it out of her mouth. He wanted her from behind. She kneeled on the floor and I sat on the sofa in front of her. When I lifted my skirt she started eating my pussy, while my husband entered her from behind.

She gave me the most amazing oral sex. Her tongue worked magic on my clit, which she also sucked and kissed. I could feel her going deep in to my vagina and I moaned. My husband held her boobs like they were handles and rode her till she screamed.

He had had enough of fucking her in the pussy and wanted a change of scenery. He took his dick out and stuck it in her ass. He rode her like a cowboy while she screamed. The visual of that was only helping me reach my orgasm faster, and just when I did, he did too. Thick white liquid spurted from his dick all over her back. I can’t wait for the next dinner party.

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I work as a secretary to my boss. It was one of those places where you just do your job and go home. There weren’t many people in the establishment either. Among my various jobs, I have to check the business emails and send the important ones to my boss’ personal email id. It is an easy job, I am loving it.

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Sometimes I feel I was leading a double life. There I was, looking all somber at my desk job in the daytime. And when the nights came I put on my second identity. My BDSM life. People in the know called me Lady Tyranna.

However, luckily, I wasn’t meant to live a double ! identity for long. One particular day when the company email inbox was sluggish, I thought I would check mine, which was decidedly more adventurous. I logged in on my alternate id which only a few selected people knew and saw what I had got. There was a very interesting one among the dozens of others – “Still punished. Still naked. Still tied. Waiting for Lady T for release. – Slave Cole.”

I enjoyed that one. The sight of slave Cole sitting with his legs and torso tied to the computer chair where I sat this morning made me horny. I shot a reply. “Don’t email. Your punishment increases. – Lady T.” As I hit the ‘send’ button, I became aware I was being watched. Indeed I was, my boss was staring on the moni! tor like a hawk.

Ten minutes later he called me in. I was worried, but then I thought what he has got to do with my personal life. I went in.

However, it wasn’t that at all. He did some work talk, some small talk and then said, “I am one too.” I did not get it initially. Then he rolled his shirt sleeves up. I saw his wrists. I understood what he meant. The wrists were red and sore.

Today, our equation has changed. I am the boss, he is my slave. I am Lady T for him also. Even right now, as I am writing this from his computer in his room, he is down there on the floor – without a stitch on his body and his wrists and ankles tied together. His back is red where he just got the whip. He is eying warily at the huge strap-on on the desk. Everything is set – his time for punishment is now.

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