"And fifty says I can do it," said Paul, looking smug. Del McDonald shook his head as if he were pitying his boss.
"No way, Paul. She's just too much of an ice cube for you to ever get her to fuck you. But if you want to lose fifty bucks, I can use it. Better than having you throw it away on booze or something that will destroy your body."
"So you'd spend fifty on health food? I know you too well. You'd go down to the nearest bar and drink yourself into a stupor – and not on carrot-juice, either."
Del laughed. "Better my liver going than yours. But look, I don't want this to be any kind of open-ended bet. I could die of old age before I collect. Let's say I give you a month to fuck her."
"Fair enough," said Paul, thinking about the camera in his desk. With its instant pictures, he could capture Sandy on film fucking her secretary. With blackmail evidence like that, he could force her to do anything he wanted. The bosses at the brokerage firm would shit in their pants at the thought of one of their account-executives being queer. "In fact," Paul added, "if you want to toss in another fifty, we can set the deadline for this weekend."
"A hundred?" said Del suspiciously. "I get the feeling I'm being hustled. Have you already got something going with the female iceberg?"
"Nope. Not at all. But I will. In fact, I've even told my wife I was going out pf town this weekend on a business trip. I figure I can get some good use out of the cabin up at the lake. This time of year, it should be nice and deserted there."
"A hundred bucks. You sound confident, old man. But I'm going to hold you to it. I need the bread right now. Big expenses and all that. The kids want to go to Disneyland and my wife is thinking about putting down a new floor in the kitchen. So, yeah, a hundred and you've got to fuck her by Monday," Del smiled. He thought he had a good bet. He remembered the times he had just talked to Sandy. She had given him the creeps. She flat-out refused to rise to his blatant suggestions that they find a nice quiet spot and fuck. She wasn't the least big interested in fucking. A cold one like that wouldn't be easy for Paul to get to.
"Got to run now," said Paul. "Things to do and preparations to make. You know how it is with us high-powered executives."
They parted. Paul went to his office and took out the instant camera. He'd bought it to take pictures of his kids. He'd never considered the possibility of using it to blackmail Sandy Kramer. He made sure the film was properly loaded. He always had problems loading the film. For a few photos around the house, it didn't matter. But for the ones he intended to take of Sandy fucking Mary Jane, he couldn't ask for a retake.
He opened his door a crack and waited. It wasn't long before he saw Sandy glance around, then head down the tiny hallway leading to the storage room. He had already missed Mary Jane's arrival. He guessed she had gone down the hall a few minutes earlier. Paul felt his prick stir in anticipation of what he was going to do. It had been damned sexy watching the two chicks licking and sucking each other's pussy. He could hardly wait to get that on film.
Paul wished he had a nice shot of Sandy's mouth after she had been licking Mary Jane's cunt. The way Mary Jane's cunt-juice frothed all over her lips made them gleam as if they'd been dipped in silver. And when she drove her tongue between those pink pussy-lips, he had almost come.
Now he was armed with a camera. He'd make sure he took only the best picture.
Paul quickly walked across the office and down the tiny hallway leading to the storeroom. He pressed his ear against the thin door and heard sounds coming from inside. He immediately recognized Sandy's voice but the other one baffled him. It didn't sound as if it were female. Mary Jane had a distinctive voice – and this wasn't hers.
He cursed under his breath. The pictures would still be good, but not for blackmail. Who really cared if a single account-executive balled someone on her lunch hour? Even Marrick, Vickers and Woodward would have told him to take a flying fuck at the moon and to leave his personnel alone on their own time.
Sandy had to be screwing another woman or his blackmail scheme would fail. He cursed when he remembered his bet with Del. A hundred Goddamned dollars down the tubes! And all because that stupid bitch decided to be a switch-hitter and go for a guy this time.
Paul opened the door a crack and heard the words perfectly. They startled him. The man inside the room with Sandy was saying, "Please don't punish me, mistress. I'll do whatever pleases you."
"Of course you will, shit brain. You're nothing to me. You're not even good enough to lick my shoes."
"You won't beat me with this whip, will you?"
Paul opened the door even more to see what was happening. This was too good to pass up, no matter who was inside.
He almost blurted out something when he saw the man on his knees in front of Sandy. This was Charles Farley, the firm's biggest investor! The look on the man's face shook Paul. Sheer lust radiated from those eyes – and the man held out an ugly looking short black whip for Sandy's inspection.
The woman took the whip from the man's hands and doubled it. She gave her palm a few whacks with it, then uncurled the whip and snapped it in the air beside the man's head. He jerked, but what impressed Paul the most was the woman's ability with the whip. It obviously wasn't the first time she had used one.
"Come closer," she demanded. The man inched toward her on his knees. She whirled the whip around and looped it neatly around the man's neck. He reached up to unfasten it from his windpipe but Sandy jerked hard and pulled him to the floor. "Don't touch it, slave. You're good for nothing and a piece of shit. Do you hear me, a piece of Goddamned fucking shit!"
"Yes, mistress of the whip," the man choked out.
Paul snapped a picture with Sandy bending close, the whip curled around Farley's neck. This would make one hell of a fine blackmail photo. Just when he'd though his entire scheme had dried up and blown away, something even better came along. With these pictures, he could blackmail Sandy into going up to the lake with him for the weekend and Farley into investing even more money with the firm. He quickly shot another picture of Sandy putting her foot on top of the man's head.
"Kiss the floor under my boots," she commanded. He did.
Paul didn't understand what was happening to him. He felt his prick twitching at the sight of the degraded man. He obviously enjoyed being used by a woman. Sandy was a perfect choice for that. Dominant, tall, regal and haughty, she could command attention easily. Her use of the whip and her words added to the perverted scene.
Farley kissed the floor under Sandy's boots until she released him.
"Sit up and beg me for mercy." As the man struggled to get up, Sandy jerked him down to the floor again and coldly told him, "You weren't fast enough. It doesn't matter anyway. I hate it when my slaves lie to me!"
"No, mistress!" Farley protested. "I am sincere! I'll do anything you want me to!"
"A likely story." She flicked her wrist and the whip uncoiled. She snapped it in the air. "All right, prove it to me. Start kissing my boots and work up my body. I want you to kiss my clit!"
The man trembled like a racehorse in a starting gate. He dropped to his hands and knees and began licking and kissing her black leather boots. He worked up the insides to her knees and then ran his tongue all around the rim of the boots. At her knees, he came to her skirt. With a quivering voice, he asked, "What about your skirt, mistress?"
"Dumb asshole!" She began to beat him with the whip. Paul watched in fascination as the whip rose and landed with a thud on the man's back. Farley flinched but made no outcry. That was against the rules.
"Please, mistress, I don't know what to do! Order me and I'll do your biding. But please tell me!"
Paul snapped another picture as Sandy continued to beat the man. The whip rose and fell in short arcs. He doubted if the pain was all that great; it was a mental mind-fuck the woman was after. As far as Paul was concerned, she had achieved it perfectly. Charles Farley was totally under her power and even begged her for more.
"Use your Goddamned tongue and pull the zipper on my skirt down. Get me naked!"
She whipped him faster now. He eagerly rose and ran his tongue under the metal tab of her zipper. She turned slightly so that the man would be able to get his tongue around the zipper. When his lips closed on it and he pulled, Sandy's face lit up with expectation. Paul knew she was getting off on this dominance trip, just as Farley was getting his rocks off being dominated. He took another picture of Farley holding her zipper in his teeth. He got a nice shot of her panty-clad ass flaring out over the rim of her skirt.
For a second, the scene in the room seemed to freeze. Farley caught his breath and held it, amazed at the woman's perfect body. Long ivory legs met in a dark vee between her legs. He could barely make out the thick pussy-fur under the silk panties. A tiny tuft of cunt-hair stuck out over the top of her bikini-panties.
"God," Farley gasped. And he was rewarded with a severe lashing for that single word.
"No more talking, slave!" she commanded. "I gave you an order. Carry it out immediately!" She wielded the whip with fury now. The strokes actually cut through the man's coat and left it in tatters. Neither of them seemed to notice this though. He flinched with every whip stroke but didn't appear to show any pain.
He ran his tongue back to the top of the woman's calf-hugging boots. Licking and lapping, he worked his way up the inside of her tender thigh. Paul could see the spittle the man left behind. It glowed in the harsh light of the room. Sandy parted her thighs a little bit for him, but made no move to pull her panties down so that he could really lick her cunt as she had ordered.
He came to the bulge of her pussy-mound and hesitated. She beat him harder with her whip. "Why are you stopping? Lick my cunt, damn you, you flaming asshole. Do you only suck men's pricks? Is that it? You don't know what to do with a woman's cunt? Get those panties off and stuff your tongue all the way up my cunt!"
The man hastened to obey. He didn't use his hands to pull her panties down. He worked his tongue under her leg on one side, then pulled the thin fabric into his mouth so that he could get his teeth into it. He began puffing her panties down until Paul wondered if the man's teeth might not come loose from the strain. The act of getting her panties dawn over her womanly ass required great strength.
But Farley managed.
Paul gasped when he saw Sandy's crotch. It was black and curly and already dotted with tiny dewdrops of love-oils from her pussy. The man quickly snapped another picture as Farley ran his tongue up the inside of her thigh and stopped just short of her pussy.
"Why are you stopping there?" the woman cried out. She lashed his shoulders and back with the whip until even Paul cringed. The beaten and whipped man seemed hardly to notice. His tongue rolled out and he panted in desire. Paul guessed the pain was getting his jollies by allowing the woman to beat him and urge him on.
Farley didn't reply. His tongue came out and lightly touched the woman's pussy-lips. Flicking his tongue against her cunt-flaps, he slowly pressed downward and between the woman's legs until his head was buried. Paul saw the look of sudden suspense and arousal on Sandy's face. He guessed the man's tongue had invaded her asshole.
She turned slightly and clenched her buttocks together. She tensed her ass-cheeks around his hard driving tongue.
The man slurped and lapped at her asshole as if sucking the shit from her. Paul got a good picture of the expression on Sandy's face as Farley moved back, parted her cunt-lips with the tip of his tongue, then speared deeply into her pussy. Her cunt seemed to convulse as the man started tongue-fucking her.
She didn't beat his back and shoulders as rapidly or as hard as she had at first. The man seemed to dislike this and stopped licking and tongue-fucking her cunt. He looked up with inquiring eyes.
"You're slowing down," she accused. "Don't you dare disobey me. Lick my pussy! And do it good!"
As soon as he buried his face back into her snatch, she took two quick steps backwards. He fell forward onto his face. He thrust one hand out to catch himself. Quick as a flash, Sandy kicked his hand from under him and he smashed face first into the floor.
She placed her foot on his neck and coldly told him, "You aren't pleasing me. You aren't being the kind of a slave I really want. I think I'll call this whole thing off and send you running home to mommy."
"No, please, mistress, please, not that!" the man moaned from his prone position. "I'm trying to do what you want. It's not easy. You have to discipline me constantly if I'm to learn to do it right."
"Yes, I can see that you're a fucking asshole… and stupid, to boot," she said, as if considering his words seriously. "You're not good enough to lick my pussy. I want you to jack off for me. I want to see that pitiful organ you call your prick."
She removed the boot from his neck and allowed him to rise. He fumbled out his erection and held it in his hand. The purpled knob of his prick stuck up past the index finger of his hand. He began a slow, rhythmic motion to jack himself off.
"Keep fucking yourself, cocksucker," she said. Her eyes gleamed brightly.
When she stroked the leather whip along the entire length of the man's prick, Paul took another picture. He only had a couple of exposures left and he wanted to make them good ones. The pictures he'd already taken were classics and he knew he wouldn't have any trouble at all either with Sandy or with Charles Farley. But he wanted to make sure. The more good pictures he took, the better he could blackmail them.
The woman dragged the whip all over the sweating man's face. She outlined his head with the butt end of the whip, then thrust it into his mouth. "Suck my whip," she ordered him. The wildness in the man's eyes showed Paul that she was getting hotter and hotter. Whatever else Sandy may have been, she was completely expert at getting Farley's rocks off.
His hand beat up and down on his cock with a single-mindedness that told of his supreme arousal. His prick leaped and bucked around in front of his crotch as the whip moved slowly in and out of his face. Face-fucked by a whip handle while he beat himself off.
The man could hardly stand it! "You're doing fine, slave," she told him. "For a complete shit-head. I've never seen a cocksucker so stupid before. How can you tolerate yourself when you look in the mirror?"
She put a foot on the man's shoulder and gave him a view of her wet pussy. Her cunt-oils oozed down the inside of her leg. Her tits rose and fell faster now as her excitement mounted.
Paul got a beautiful picture of this scene. He almost shot his wad, too, as he clicked merrily away. The sight of Farley sucking her whip was a turn-on for Paul. But the way Sandy stood made his cock hard and ready to spurt. Her leg was still booted in leather and her cunt was visible.
She moved the whip back and forth sensuously, as if it were a prick she had stuffed into Farley's face. He seemed to get off on it in a big way. The man's hand shot up and down his hard cock faster and faster until his prick turned fiery red. A tiny droplet of pre-come beaded on his prick.
Paul shot his last picture as Farley's prick exploded with come. His jizz spattered all aver Sandy's booted foot. Farley kept his eyes closed in ecstasy as he sucked hard on the whip handle and beat his cock harder and harder.
Sandy squawked and kicked Farley in the face. He tumbled backwards to the floor. "You swine!" she cried. "You came all over my boot! Lick it off! Now!"
She lashed him with her whip, landing hard blows on his back. Paul could see there wasn't any mercy in her beating this time. She lashed out furiously.
No doubt about it. Sandy Kramer was a merciless bitch. The man in the room obediently crawled over to a point where he could lick his jism off the woman's boot.
"Lick, lick!"
He licked. His tongue shot out pink and moist to slurp up the gooey come all over her boot. He even kissed and sucked the toe of her boot to make sure all of it was gone.
"You disgust me," Sandy said, dropping the whip to the floor. She reached down, stepped gracefully into her panties and pulled them up and over her buttocks. Paul could hardly keep his prick in control, but he managed. He had his pictures and that was all that counted. He silently walked down the hallway, looking at the shots he'd taken and marveling at the wonderful color of each picture.
He even caught the proper tint of pink on Sandy Kramer's cunt-lips. The white of Sandy's come on her boots was perfect and the shot of the man beating himself off and sucking the whip was a classic. Paul wondered if he might even be able to sell this one to some magazine.
Paul went back to his office, laid the photos out on his desk and pressed the intercom switch, Angela answered and he said, "I want to see Miss Kramer in my office immediately. Or whenever she gets back to her office."
"Yes, sir."
Paul sat back in his big leather chair and smiled to himself. This was going to be fun!