Belinda and Jacqueline

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

To Belinda R.

Mistress SWP

Jacqueline Dubois was well known in the financial services sector as a smart, hard-nosed attorney. She was ten years out from her graduation at the top of her law school class at Yale and spent four years at the SEC before joining GZR Finance Group. She rose quickly in the ranks of the General Counsel's office, and was the go to person for the most difficult legal problems.

She was as attractive as she was smart. She topped out at 5' 10" with auburn red hair, emerald green eyes, and a curvy frame and long legs. She came out as a lesbian in college, and had a series of relationships, the most recent ending inauspiciously at the last company Christmas party, where she discovered her girlfriend in the women's room having sex with one of legal interns.

It was after midnight, and most of the Christmas party had already devolved to debauchery. Jacqueline was already a bit woozy from all of the alcohol she consumed and had lost track of her girlfriend Ingrid, a Scandinavian blonde who was ten years younger than the redhead. Jacqueline wandered through the restaurant looking for her, and staggered into the women's restroom when natured called. She pushed open a stall door, only to discover Ingrid in a lip lock with a woman who couldn't have been much older than twenty-one. Jacqueline, though usually cool and collected, had more drinks than she could remember and lunged for the woman, over a startled Ingrid, and attempted to grab her hair. This is the Jacqueline who was wearing a designer dress and $1,000 heels, getting in a fight in the women's bathroom. Needless to say, Jacqueline and Ingrid broke up shortly after. But the more lasting impact was to Jacqueline's reputation. She was not only viewed as wicked smart and beautiful, the word on the street was that Jacqueline was not a person to fucked with.

* * *

Two weeks before the Christmas party, Jacqueline had the most unusual thing happen to her. Belinda Yates from Customer Service had come to see her. Jacqueline heard, but didn't always listen to, the idle gossip floating around the office. She heard from a semi-reliable source that Belinda had spent last year's Christmas party giving blowjobs in the men's room. She also heard from others another version of that night -- that Belinda was dragged into the men's room and assaulted. Dean Franklin, a supervisor in Internal Audit, was said to have been involved, and his department head quashed the investigation. She chose to believe the latter version was true (though in fact the former was true. Belinda was a submissive slut and the bathroom blowbang was her fantasy come to life).

To Jacqueline, on meeting her for the first time, Belinda appeared to be buttoned up corporate minion, wearing a conservative suit, not in the least revealing. Her view that Belinda was the victim was confirmed in her mind by Belinda's overall modest appearance (though Jacqueline did notice that Belinda had very large, luscious tits). Belinda appeared nervous to Jacqueline. And for good reason as it turns out when Belinda asked Jacqueline for her panties and a business card stamped with her signature. Jacqueline sensed that Belinda was being coerced, and questioned her, like any good attorney would, getting her to disgorge the fact that she was being blackmailed by, of all people, Dean Franklin.

According to Belinda, Dean had falsified some accounting records to make it look as if Belinda was the culpable party. The truth was that Belinda was the one that had falsified the accounting records to make it appear as if she had stolen money from the company even though she hadn't. She wanted Dean to believe that he had caught her, and that he would take advantage of the situation. Dean fell for the ruse and was the one who put Belinda up to asking for Jacqueline's panties.

Jacqueline didn't like Dean. They had never met but she saw him as one of those "pretty boys" who goes through women like Kleenexes. He dated a number of women that Jacqueline knew, and of course he was the boyfriend of Laurel, Natalie's current girlfriend. Natalie was Jacqueline's administrative assistant. Jacqueline adored Natalie. According to Natalie, Dean was a pig. Jacqueline heard from her that he was present during Belinda's assault and said nothing.

* * *

Belinda finally got the courage to act out her submissive fantasies. She was thirty-five, and still single, and had a "what the fuck" moment at that stage in her life. She was a good looking gal with an enormous rack. Her tits did garner a lot of unwanted attention, but what she really wanted was to be a submissive, to be controlled by someone else, but that desire seemed unattainable. She was in a series of relationships, but each failed when it came to sex. Belinda never got her partners to do what she really wanted -- to use her in ways she wouldn't dream of doing on her own.

Right before the Christmas party, Belinda tossed and turned in bed. She had bought the perfect dress and heels for the party, but was trying to summon the courage to wear it. In a moment of madness (or was it lucidity?) she relented to years of sexual frustration. With 38DD tits in a tight fitting red cocktail dress and slutty heels, that was literally waving the red flag in front of the bull. She carefully applied her make-up, using far more than she usually wore at the office.

Belinda arrived at the Christmas party when it was already in full swing. She noticed from the outset that eyes were following her as she traversed the main dining room of the restaurant. She picked the bar closest to the rear of the room, near the exit and the restrooms, to hold court. She slipped the bartender a $20 bill to make sure he served her heavily watered down drinks. Belinda didn't want to be drunk and mess up the best day in her life.

She had no problem attracting men, they were three deep at the bar vying to buy her a premium drink (well drinks were free during the party). Two of the drunker men suggested that Belinda accompany them to the men's room and to their surprise she agreed. Three more men followed them. They went in the last stall and propped the door open so everyone could watch. The audience made it only that much better for Belinda.

She helped the first man, who was half in the tank, to lower his pants and briefs and sit on the commode. He wasn't too drunk to see that Belinda had unzipped her dress and lowered the top half and also taken off her bra. Her breasts were two huge, rounded orbs. The man's cock stirred when he saw Belinda's chest, and became hard when she pressed his dick between her tits.

She could barely contain her excitement. She was half naked, in the men's room, on her knees in front of a virtual stranger, a man she had only met a few minutes ago, and was staring at his cock, pulsing with excitement, as the man fondled her tits and squeezed her nipples. She couldn't stop her hand from going between her legs, pulling aside the flimsy material of her bikini panties, the gusset soaked.

She threaded her fingers around his cock, touching him for the first time, feeling the man's flesh and the veins in his cock, throbbing. She pumped his cock, and as the man groaned and a drop of precum emerged from the tip, her fingers plunged into the swampy mess between her legs. She went down on him, wrapping her lips around his cock in a perfect "O," then as she practiced many times on her double dildo she kept in the drawer next to her bed, inhaling his shaft whole. As his cock hit the back of her throat she started cumming, her head undulating, as she experienced the pleasure of true submission for the first time.

Her eyes were watering and saliva was coating her chin and dripping onto the tops of her breasts. She looked at the man, his eyes half closed. "Tell me I'm your whore. Tell me what you want me to do." Just uttering the words made her sink deeper into the well of submission.

The man had never had his deepest carnal desires satiated. Now he had a whore begging to do exactly that. He looked into her eyes, eyes that were hazed over with lust. He put his hand under her chin so she would look directly at him.

"Tell me what you want."

"I want to be used by you. I want to be used by every man and woman at this party."

Belinda had already surpassed the kinkiest thing he had ever done in his life. He decided to venture further, both of them in uncharted waters.

"Lick my balls ... whore." The man emphasized the last word, not as an epithet, but as an acknowledgment of what she was.

The task posed certain logistical challenges for Belinda as the man was sitting on the toilet. She carefully removed her wire rimmed glasses, folded the arms inward, and gently placed them on the floor. Then she encouraged the man to lift his feet slightly off the floor so she could wedge her head between his legs and the toilet seat. She felt the cold plastic on one cheek and the warmth of the man's leg on the other. His balls were only inches away from her face, the wrinkly scrotum dangling in front of her.

She stuck her tongue out, tentatively at first, tasting the gaminess of his balls and smelling his musky scent. His groan encouraged her, and she started swabbing his balls with her tongue. This felt right to her, taking directions from a strange man, debasing herself for his enjoyment. Her tongue went lower, flicking it against his anus.

"Ohhhh ... ," groaned the man. There were no apparent limits to what she was willing to do.

She pulled her head out and went into a kneeling position in front of him. "Cum in my mouth," she beckoned. Her hand gripped his shaft as her lips followed, up and down until she sensed the familiar tightening of his muscles as his body prepared to ejaculate. She went all the way down, feeling his tool ramming the back of her throat, spewing his hot cum into her. Her fingers were busy below as she came again, struggling to savor the orgasm as she suppressed her urge to gag.

"Oh fuck!" the man exclaimed as his cock flopped out of her mouth, spent. All thoughts of his girlfriend waiting for him in the restaurant banished to the back of his mind. He caressed the sides of her head as she licked the remaining cum off his flaccid cock.

Belinda was in her element now. She asked herself what a wanton whore would do. She signaled for the man waiting in line to come in. The man on the toilet hitched up his pants, gave one of Belinda's nipples a hard squeeze, and then left.

When she had finished with the second man and was in the process of servicing the third, someone who she recognized by his red hair -- Greg in Shipping and Receiving. Greg had always leered at Belinda's tits, even when she did her best to hide them with loose fitting blouses and baggy sweaters. She heard more men enter the restroom. Greg was rougher than the others. His cock was larger, and he throat fucked her, her saliva, frothing with bubbles and dripping off her chin.

As he rammed his cock down her throat, she grunted as she shoved one of her fingers up her ass, massaging her anal ring. Greg's legs stiffened, and instead of cumming in her mouth he withdrew, spewing his cum all over her face. She heard nervous laughter behind her, and turned around to see two men staring at her and her cum covered face.

One of the two men turned out to be Dean Franklin.

As soon as Belinda saw Dean, and the fire in his eyes, she knew that he was the one to dominate her, to use her. She recognized him, though didn't know him. His eyes went from her floppy tits to her face, a smile of approval on his face.

* * *

Dean Franklin had two problems. His first, and biggest, was that his company's top litigator believed that he had blackmailed one of the company's employees. This was not true. In fact the opposite was true. That employee, Belinda, had in fact had her eyes on Dean ever since the incident in the men's bathroom during the last Christmas party.

The second problem was Belinda. She had plotted since the Christmas party to gain Dean's attention, and decided to falsify an accounting entry to make it appear that she had stolen $10,000 from the company coffers. Dean was in Internal Audit, and Belinda planted the fake report in his office. When he spotted the supposed defalcation, he confronted Belinda in her office. Of course Belinda confessed to stealing the company's money, and promised to "do anything" to make it right. Dean was the one to dream up the task of her retrieving Jacqueline's panties and business card, a task he now rued giving her. He never thought she would tell Jacqueline that she was being blackmailed, and he acknowledged that he had brought this all on himself.

Belinda had already submitted to him, and then confessed that she had entrapped him with her altered accounting report. She was in the clear because no money was in fact taken, but now Dean was in the hot seat with Jacqueline. Belinda was eager to take orders from Dean, and Dean now appreciated that she would in fact do or say anything for him, a responsibility he had taken lightly and for which he paid a heavy price.

* * *

It had been two weeks since Jacqueline had met with Belinda, and curiosity was getting the best of her. It's not every day that someone comes into your office asking for your panties. Jacqueline dashed off an e-mail to her simply asking if she wanted to talk.

As a customer service manager, Belinda was always on her e-mails. When she saw Jacqueline's, a shiver went up her spine. Dean was angry with the way she handled the panty situation, and now it was about to come to a head. She slinked over to his office. He was talking with a co-worker, who he waved away. He got up from behind his desk and closed the door.

"I told you not to come to my office." He was not pleased.

"I'm sorry, but I thought you should see this, and I didn't want to forward it." She opened her phone's e-mail app and showed him Jacqueline's one line message. He frowned when he saw it. He too realized that they would have to deal with it.

"I don't think she likes me," Dean observed, the master of the understatement. Jacqueline was beyond mere dislike. She hated him. "How do you propose we go forward?"

Belinda thought for a minute. At least there was trust, however fleeting, between her and Jacqueline. Truth seemed to be the best option. She told Dean that she should handle it, without him. Dean was conflicted. He didn't know Belinda well enough to direct her, but didn't want to be part of a meeting where he wasn't welcome. His career hung in the balance. He decided he would have to place his trust in Belinda, and let the chips fall where they may.

* * *

"I'm glad you decided to drop by," said Jacqueline, welcoming Belinda into her office. Belinda was wearing her usual conservative work attire and appeared more chipper than the last time the tall redhead saw her.

Belinda smoothed her skirt and sat in one of the guest chairs.

"So tell me. I'm curious as to what happened to my panties."

Belinda's eyes became serious. Jacqueline sensed a confession was about to be made.

"I lied to you."

"About what?"

"That Dean was blackmailing me."

"What was really happening?"

The truth gushed out. Jacqueline was not easily shocked, but she was by Belinda's confession. The blowjobs in the bathroom, the falsified accounting report, and her planned submission to Dean was all laid out in gory detail. Jacqueline listened patiently, her perception of Belinda changing from a reserved woman to a wanton whore. She was disappointed that she had misjudged Dean, but her dislike of him remained, despite the fact that Belinda defended his actions. There was no defense to his request for Jacqueline's panties, and that injustice was to be addressed.

As Belinda's tale was disgorged, Jacqueline noticed a subtle change in her own body. She started to feel flush. She took off her jacket. Her fingertips became tingly as Belinda relayed her submissive fantasies, and how she acted upon them at the Christmas party. She started noticing Belinda's breasts, swaying as the blonde talked with her hands, and her dilated pupils as she recounted sucking off a line of men.

"I wouldn't have believed any of this if you hadn't told me this to my face." Every word spoken by Belinda rang true. Belinda was basically throwing herself at Jacqueline's feet, begging for forgiveness.

Jacqueline's impulsiveness got the better of her. Instead of letting sleeping dogs lie, she couldn't resist the opportunity to exploit the situation. She had a submissive slut in front of her, and a man she disliked who had his career in her hands. Her better judgment gave way to her emotions.

"Tell Dean that I want the two of you to meet me at this address at nine tonight." She jotted down the address of her house on a scrap of paper and handed it to her. Belinda left and Jacqueline picked up the phone to call Laney, a friend and roommate from her college days at UCLA.

Laney was a tall, willowy blonde, a California surfer girl with a major submissive streak. Jacqueline had always been interested in Laney's lifestyle, more from an academic viewpoint than from true interest in participating in it. Laney was the perfect person to call and she was only a short train ride away.

Jacqueline was an experienced trial attorney and always came prepared. Her experience with Belinda and Dean would be no different. Laney would advise her on what to do. She had first-hand experience with submissives, being one herself. In the right circumstances, though, she could be a hard edged Domme.

Laney and Jacqueline lived together in Westwood for their junior and senior years. Jacqueline was pre-law, and spent most of those two years studying, and her entertainment was living through Laney's life vicariously. Laney and her boyfriend Troy were learning to be submissives with Claire (The Masked Woman and the Mistress). Laney would share eye opening stories with Jacqueline late into the night about what she did and how she was used, most of the time in graphic detail.

* * *

The Grand Central train station was no longer old and tired. It had been recently renovated and boasted a "gourmet ghetto" with local butchers, fish mongers, and produce farmers, as well as high end eateries and shopping. Jacqueline arrived an hour before Laney's train was scheduled to arrive, shopping for the dinner she was planning on making that night.

Jacqueline finished her shopping and went into the main room of the station, watching the electronic board for the arrival of Laney's train from Philadelphia. As the train track number flashed on the board, the tall redhead made her way through the crowded train station. When she arrived the track, Laney had already gotten off and was waiting on the platform. Hug and kisses were shared.

"Sorry I didn't have time to fill you in on the details," said Jacqueline.

"They'll be plenty of time on the ride to your house."

On the ride to her house Jacqueline explained why Laney was invited. She shared Belinda's story, Laney listening impassively in the passenger seat, hitting the high points of the Christmas party, and Belinda's lack of shame, in fact sense of pride, in wallowing on the floor of the men's room, half naked, sucking off almost a dozen strange men. As her friend spoke, Laney's mind drifted to the time she and Troy visited a club with Mistress Elaine and allowed members of the club, Laney couldn't recall how many, to use them in whatever manner they pleased. She and Troy entertained the club's members for hours, most of the time on their hands and knees in the club's public playroom, the hardwood floor sticky and damp from their activities. Laney recalled with fondness her sense of fulfillment at being used as a pleasure object by so many men and women. She sensed that Belinda was cut from the same cloth.