Amber Calls The Shots

"Go on then," I say and nod encouragingly.

At which point Cynthia bobs her head forward, tries to get her mouth round the forkful of ravioli I'm holding. But no dice, because I keep moving it around so she can't quite get any. I really am enjoying this, it's a scream. "Aw looks like poor Dumpers is going totally hungry today," I giggle, as I scrape the food back into the dish, start the tease again with a fresh forkful.

I keep this pantomime up for ages, casually tormenting the poor, starving girl with the food. She keeps begging me to feed her something -- "Please Empress Amber, please, I'm so hungry," she's pleading, tears of frustration in her eyes -- and keeps trying to get her chops around some ravioli. But she can't. She gets oh so close, but she can never QUITE get any. Not a morsel. Each forkful ends up back in the dish. It's driving her mad, what I'm doing.

Evil, aren't I?

Giggle.

Finally, I tell her to keep still and I start dabbing bits of food around her face with my fork -- it goes everywhere but in her mouth. I put some on the tip of her nose, some behind her ears, smear sauce around her lips and in her eyebrows, put a few pieces on top of her head and mash it into her hair. It's really funny (she ends up still starving but looking a real mess) and I wish the guys were here to appreciate it.

Only witness is Gerald and he's NOT one to appreciate it. He's still crouching there in the corner, looking quite unhappy with life. I wondered if he'd peed himself again -- hard to tell when he's naked. Maybe I'd let him go to the bathroom, next time he asked. Maybe I wouldn't, though.

"God Dumpy, you really look a picture," I giggle, deciding I'd keep her looking like this for the rest of the day. "How are you going to beat me in the Prettiest Girl contest with all that mess on you?"

As if.

(14) DISHY DEAN BOILS A KETTLE (OR TWO)

I give the dish of leftovers to Cynthia and instruct her to "go feed the dog" - indicating to where Gerald is cowering in the corner.

She trots over and places the dish on the floor in front of him. "Say eat Doggy," I tell her.

"Eat, Doggy," she says and Gerald, on all fours and looking very like a dog now, in fact, starts lapping away at the food with his mouth.

"Make sure he eats it all up, Dumpy," I say. "Stay there until he's finished, then wash up the dish and come back over here. I want you to feed me my delicious chocolate cake while I do a bit of on-line stuff. I'm gonna order a load of great new clothes using Daddy's charge card and I need both hands for that."

Which is what we're doing when the boys come back. Pretty long session in the pub, they've had, and they're a touch drunk. I don't mind the guys drinking in work hours because it makes it even more fun flirting with them. The alcohol makes them feel very horny and they ogle me all the more appreciatively. Makes them a bit boisterous too -- perfect for this Prettiest Girl contest we're about to have. I'm really looking forward to that -- looking forward to it about as much as Cynthia isn't. I saw her poor little face drop when I announced it earlier. Giggle.

"Be with you in a minute guys, just finishing up here," I tell them. "I'm ordering some sexy new outfits. Hey, why don't you boys just busy yourself with the dog while you're waiting. Do whatever you want to him."

"We certainly will, Gorgeous," said Dean, cackling.

I turn back to my screen and finish ordering the clothes ... a particularly DIVINE little cocktail dress is the most expensive thing I buy ... while Cynthia feeds me my chocolate cake. I just open my mouth whenever I want some and she pops a piece in. I eat all of it. Yummy yum yum.

Behind me, I hear ribald laughter from the boys and a cacophony of yelps and screams from Gerald.

I flip round and see why. Gerald is being held face down on the floor by four of the guys, Donny plus three others, and Dean is torturing him. The others are stood around watching. Someone's gone and boiled a kettle in the small kitchen area we have and Dean's got the kettle and he's trickling boiling water over Gerald's naked arse.

"Oh god, no," mutters Cynthia. She's plainly mortified. This is definitely the worst thing they've ever done to Gerald. He's in agony, poor guy.

"Well I did say they could do ANYTHING, I guess," I say.

It is very cruel, what Dean's doing, but he looks particularly dishy doing it and I decide it's fine. In fact it's a great prelude for our Prettiest Girl contest.

The boys are looking at me, wondering if they've gone too far, waiting to see what I'll say next.

I keep them in suspense for a while, look at them with a straight and thoughtful face, so they get to fearing they've displeased me with this pouring boiling water over Gerald, and that I'll stop teasing and flirting with them ... maybe even call off Prettiest Girl.

Then I start grinning. "Hey what about his front bits, boys? Don't want to do half a job, do we?"

Poor Gerald's sobbing and screaming, when he hears this, is truly pitiful. He knows what's coming and there's nothing he can do to stop it. "Yeah, Gorgeous, I love you," shouts a gleeful Dean, and he goes and boils another kettle. "Nice full one, Sugar," I giggle and I go over to watch the fun. I make Cynthia come too, despite her desperate protests. She's so upset by how Gerald's being tortured that she's forgotten she's got ravioli all over her face.

The guys flip Gerald and stretch him out on the floor face up. They pull his legs and his arms wide apart and hold him like that -- a guy on each of his wrists, and on each of his ankles. He can't move a muscle. All he can do is thrash his head around, which is what he IS doing.

"No, please noooo," he's begging.

Dean is back with the steaming kettle, showing it to Gerald and grinning.

"Aw listen to him, Gorgeous," he says to me. "The Geek's not very keen on this game, is he? Probably wishing he was still a dog."

I go and stand over Gerald, smiling down at him. "Is that right, Geek, would you rather just be our little doggie again?"

"Yes Empress," he pleads. "I wanna be a doggie again."

It's pitiful, it really is. He's actually begging to be a dog. I get a fit of the giggles. What a dork.

I decide to toy with him a little. I slip my shoes off and give them to Cynthia to hold, gaze back down at Gerald.

"Mmm, I see. Well maybe if you kiss my pretty little toes," I say, and I place a foot to his mouth. "Maybe if the Geek kisses his Empress' pretty little toes, tells her how much he worships and adores her, she'll let him be a doggie again."

Gerald, sensing a reprieve, starts kissing my toes with great gusto and telling me how gorgeous I am. That I'm a thousand times more beautiful than any other girl in the world. Than any girl who has ever lived. That he loves me utterly and completely.

And all the time Dean is waiting there with the steaming kettle.

It's hilarious and the guys are killing themselves.

"Okay Geek, that was nice. You can stop now. You did well. I've decided you CAN be a dog again."

Gerald's eyes are shining with relief and gratitude. The way he's looking at me now, it's like he really IS in love. I smile sweetly down at him, savouring the moment. It's exquisite.

My smile slowly morphs into the widest, wickedest grin you've ever seen.

"I'll let Dean do this first though, if you don't mind. He's boiled the kettle now and we don't want to disappoint him, do we? Not Dishy Dean."

Gerald's poor little face collapses. He's wishing he were dead.

"Hey, he can be a Hot Dog," jokes Donny, and we all laugh.

Except Cynthia, of course, she's bawling her eyes out.

I'm still standing over Gerald and I notice he's looking up my dress. Not only that, his little cock is stirring. This is just so amusing, it really is. Here's the guy about to be horribly tortured for the second time and he's STILL getting turned on by looking at me. Don't think I've ever felt the sheer, intoxicating power of being a beautiful girl more intensely than at this moment.

I can't resist one last thing. "Watch this, boys," I giggle, and I start playing with Gerald's cock and balls with my foot, using my pretty, painted toes to tickle and stimulate him. In less than a minute, he's erect.

"Oh fuck, look at that. Amber's given the poor little bastard a hard-on," chuckles one of the guys.

"Probably his last one after we've finished this," grins Dean. "Can I do it now, Gorgeous?" he asks, brandishing the kettle. "Don't want it going cold, right?"

I give Gerald's dick a last little foot tickle and step aside, have Cynthia kneel down and put my shoes back on for me.

"All yours, Dishy Deano," I grin, flirting with him. "And do it REAL slow. Make him suffer, Sugar. Torture him. Show me what a big, hunky sadist you are."

He does, he makes it last a long long time. I can see Dean just LOVES doing this ... he's chuckling the whole time. He totally does look dishy today and I find myself really looking forward to this private smooch we'll be having later. Gerald screams for mercy throughout his ordeal. The more he screams, the more Dean enjoys it. The other guys enjoy it too, they're savouring the spectacle.

Dean keeps grinning up at me, making sure I'm impressed with his torturing skills ... I show him I am by giggling and pouting ... and I like how he's so eager to please. The two of us can have SO much sexy fun together in the office, I'm thinking, once I've got him installed as my First Favourite. I have a couple of delicious ideas already.

When it's finished, Gerald is a wreck.

I tell him to put his clothes back on and go sit in the corner and try and be quiet until home time. He does that, but can't quite manage the "being quiet" part. He's making these strange noises, actually sounds more animal than human. It's a bit annoying and I toy with the idea (Donny's one) of getting the boys to lock him in a filing cabinet, maybe with a sock in his mouth, but decide against it. I'm bored with Gerald now.

In any case, we can ignore him for the rest of the day - he has no part in the upcoming Prettiest Girl contest and I'll get Cynthia to mop up the mess from Dean's exploding cock after our private smooch in Roger's room. Last thing that'll be, after the others have gone home.

(15) DEAN IS REWARDED

"So, did you enjoy doing that, Sweetie? Did it give you a nice big hard-on?" I ask Dean. Looking down I can see that it did. He's got quite a bulge.

I let him know I've noticed, pouting and licking my lips appreciatively. I love flirting with Dean. He's really quite a dish.

"Yeah, Gorgeous, damn right it did," he grins.

"Got me quite wet too. Hey, so do you fancy rubbing that cream on my sexy legs now?"

"Oh yeah, baby."

"Really IS your lucky day, Hunky, isn't it?" I giggle sexily. And he doesn't even know yet about the little private session we're going to have. Dishy Dean will be going home a very happy guy tonight.

"You said it, Amber," he chuckles.

We go over to my desk and I tell Cynth to get the sun cream from our little stash and give it to Dean.

"Er Amber baby, why's the Dumpster got that stuff all over her ugly mug?" asks Dean.

"It's part of her plan to win the Prettiest Girl," I smirk. "New look ... Ravioli Face."

Cynthia remembers she looks a mess and asks if she can go to the bathroom. I say yes, sure, but only to have a pee (if she needs one ... she says she does) and to change into her Prettiest Girl outfit. I forbid her to clean up her face.

We have a number of "PG" outfits for these occasions, all of them extremely sexy -- or on a sexy girl they are anyway, on a dumpling like Cynthia they look absurd and very funny. There's two of each outfit, one for me and one for her, so we can wear the same thing for the contest. Only fair, right? Course, they're all in my size not hers, so this gives me an advantage -- as if I needed any more advantage than being totally gorgeous when she's a complete minger. Giggle.

"What do you think, Dean baby, the little pink bikinis today?" I ask.

"Oh god yeah, Gorgeous. You look fucking AMAZING in that."

"Mmm, I know," I giggle. "Okay Lumpy Dumpy, it's pink bikinis. Go and put it on and come back here when you're ready. Oh and bring mine out. I'm gonna cut your salary, by the way, if you lose again."

I look scrumptious in a bikini ... ANY bikini. Paul and Mario take me to the beach on the weekend sometimes and you should see how every guy there lusts after me. Quite funny when guys are with their wives and girlfriends, but still can't help ogling me the whole time. I love all that. I'm a massive cock tease when I go to the beach.

Cynthia goes to our office closet, emerges with the two bikinis. She puts mine on my desk and goes off with hers.

While she's away, Dean has a sexy time rubbing cream into my long, luscious legs. I relax and enjoy the sensation of having my legs gently massaged by a hunky guy. I don't need to move, I just sit back in my chair and stretch my legs out, feet on desk, and he does the rest. He covers every inch, from my ankles right up under my dress to the top of my thighs.

"Mmm that feels yummy," I purr. "Keep going, Sugar."

Dean is flushed and VERY turned on. He's being as careful and skilful rubbing cream on my legs as he was scalding Gerald with the boiling water. Poor Gerald -- I get all the pleasure and he gets all the pain.

"Guess it's the Geek who could really do with some anti-burn cream right now," I chuckle.

"Bit late for that, Gorgeous," jokes Dean. "He's already boiled."

"Yeah, careless of him. God have you ever HEARD somebody scream so much? Thought he was gonna pass out at one point."

"Wouldn't have been so much fun then would it, Ambs baby, if he'd passed out halfway through."

"Poor little Geek," I giggle. "Jeez, the state of his skin when you'd finished. Yuck. I couldn't bear my skin to look like that. You wouldn't fancy and adore me so much, Sugar, would you, if my skin looked as horrible as Geek's does now?"

"Your skin is flawless, Amber sweetheart, flawless. You know that."

"Yeah I so do know that. Hey, but thanks for saying it," I pout.

He lets his fingers brush against my panties a few times and I like that. I also like how the other guys (especially Donny) are looking over at us with a mixture of envy and longing. Think Dean is enjoying this aspect too. Think he's going to really LOVE being my first favourite, once I've formally told him.

"Dean, Sugar, before I forget. After Prettiest Girl and stuff, I'd like for you and I to go to Roger's room for a little private meeting. Be just you and me, Sweetie, Roger's gone. You'll enjoy it, baby, I promise."

"Sure thing, Gorgeous. Can't wait."

(16) PRETTIEST GIRL

I tell him that's enough with my legs and he goes back to his desk, smiling like the cat that's got the cream. And he did get the cream, didn't he? Not only that, he got to rub it into my sexy legs.

Next thing that happens is Cynthia comes back and she's got her little pink bikini on. She'd look bad in this even if it fitted her, but with it also being way too small, she looks absolutely ridiculous.

Chorus of sarcastic cheers and jeers from the guys. "Don't fancy yours much," laughs somebody.

We have a large table in the centre of the office and I order Cynthia to get up there. The guys pull up chairs around the table and wait expectantly for me. "Just be a minute boys," I grin, and I go get changed in the bathroom.

When I walk back into the office, clad in the sexy little bikini, pandemonium erupts. The bikini leaves little to the imagination, it reveals almost every mouth watering inch of my luscious female body. It's the closest these guys get to seeing me naked and they go absolutely nuts.

A chorus of lusty male approval -- wolf whistles, grunts and groans, shouts -- "oh jesus, she's SO fucking hot!" -- accompanies my every move. A dozen pairs of longing male eyes hungrily follow me as I sashay across the room, swinging my hips and pouting.

I'm lapping it up.

Even poor Gerald, whimpering in his corner, is having a furtive peep. I giggle and blow him a mocking kiss.

I get up on the table, stand next to Cynthia. The contrast is cruel as cruel can be. Giggle. My lush beauty is pointed up by her ugliness. And the opposite of course, she looks just terrible stood there next to me. I'm a nice height for a girl and she's short. I've got a heart stoppingly lovely face and hers is plain as pie. My lips are full and pouting, hers are thin and mean looking. My teeth are perfect, hers aren't. I've got a great figure, in every way, whilst she's far too fat. My hair is long and wavy and lustrous, hers is like wet string. My skin is lightly tanned all over and flawless, her skin is pale and a bit blotchy.

Course we know all this, but our "PG" contests work nicely to emphasise it. The whole thing makes me feel incredibly good -- it plays to my ego, reaffirms my status as an extremely gorgeous, sexy girl who all men desire. And for poor Cynthia, the opposite. She knows she's ugly and this rams it home.

SUCH a bitch, aren't I?

Each guy has a voting card, with two names and three categories. The two names are "Empress Amber" and "The Dumpster", and the categories are "Gorgeous" and "Inbetweener" and "Minger". What they have to do, after me and Cynthia "model" for them up on the table, is tick one category for each name. It's not complicated. The cards are then collated and totted up and the results announced by one of the guys. Dean today, I'm betting -- has to be, doesn't it?

Cynthia's modelling is greeted with a mix of silence and contemptuous laughter. She lumbers around the table looking gross, and that's about it. Having cold ravioli all over her face and hair doesn't help much. It's even worse, her performance, than the last time, when the outfits were clingy little black cocktail dresses (I look GREAT in clingy little cocktail dresses, by the way ... black or otherwise. Ask Roger. Giggle).

When I strut my stuff, however, it's desire and adoration all the way. I'm feeling VERY sexy and so I put on a bit of a show, really tease the guys ... slide my little bikini bottoms down over my smooth-as-silk, perfectly shaped buttocks ... let the straps on my skimpy top fall over my shoulders ... play peek-a-boo with my luscious breasts. It drives them bananas and I know I'm making all their cocks go hard.

I groove over to each one and wiggle my exposed ass in their face. I let each boy in turn worship my superb butt, planting soft butterfly kisses on my silky buttocks. I allow Donny do more than just kiss, I let him use his tongue to lick around inside a little bit. Dean gets to do that too ... for a lot longer than Donny.

I have three lovely orgasms.

When I've finished cavorting, every single one of the guys asks my permission to jerk off but I say no (at last, some good news for Gerald ... who doesn't look capable of cock cleaning duties right now, in any case).

Course, Dean is going to be okay. He's going to be jerking off in Roger's room very shortly. The others will have to wait until they get home.

And it is indeed Dishy Dean who announces the results of today's PG.

"Ladeez an Gennerman ... we have the results of the Prettiest Girl contest. For Empress Amber, we have 12 votes of Gorgeous and none for anything else. For The Dumpster we have, er let's see ... yes also unanimous ... 12 votes say Minger. So, good people, it's official, Amber is absolutely Gorgeous and Dumpster is a total Minger. Thus, the prettiest girl in the office is ... by a million trillion miles ... the stunning and sexy AMBER!"

It makes Cynthia the Ugliest Girl in the office too, of course, but we never bother announcing that.

"Sorry Dumpy, looks like I win again," I smirk at Cynthia. "That'll be a 10% salary cut, as of now. Better try harder next time, hadn't you?"