Bitch Pt. 03

My alarm shocked me into consciousness. At first I didn't understand why it had gone off on the weekend, and then I remembered. Today was the first day of bitch training. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower.

After dressing, I headed in to the office, pulling in to the parking lot at 09:15. Sandy's BMW was the only car in there, and I deliberately didn't park too close to it.

"I've been here since nine, sir," she said as I waltzed in. She was sitting waiting at my desk.

"Good for you," I said. "Now stand up so I can take a look at you."

She stood up, and her gray skirt came down past her knees. She was wearing a dark red blouse, and low black heels.

"Take your skirt off," I told her.

"Can we go in my office, sir?"

"If I wanted you in your office, don't you think I'd have told you to go in your office?"

She looked at the door, then unzipped her skirt. She dropped it to the floor and stepped out of it, then picked it up, folded it and put it over the back of my chair.

"I hate pantyhose."

She kicked off her shoes, then struggled to peel her hose down and stepped out of them.

"Trash can," I said.

"But I need to wear them home," she said, "Billy saw me leave in them."

"So tell him you caught them on something. Do I have to think of everything? Trash, then turn around so I can see you."

She dropped her hose in the can by my desk, then turned all the way around. Her panties were dull, white cotton.

"Take them off."

She blushed red, but pulled them down and stepped out of them, standing there with her hairy bush.

"Trash."

"But somebody might see them!"

"Somebody might see them, sir. And I don't care. Trash."

She dropped them in the can.

"Blouse."

She unbuttoned the blouse, and pulled her arms out of it. Taking it off, she carefully draped it over the back of my chair on top of her skirt. She had an ugly white bra on.

"God that's ugly. Take it off."

She reached behind her and unhooked it.

"Trash," I said as she pulled it off her arms.

She was hesitant.

"Trash. Now."

She dropped it in the trash can, and stood there naked. She clasped her hands in front of her.

"Stand up straight. Shoulders back, arms by your sides."

She did it.

"I can see you've got work to do," I told her. "You're going to start losing weight. You're going to get a sports bra and yoga pants, no, scratch that, shorts. I want you doing squats and lunges, then going for a run at lunchtime. You're skipping lunch, as I want you to tighten that body up. Now come here."

I had her sit at my desk, then I walked around her, taking pictures with my new phone. The pictures looked pretty good in the screen, and were sharp even after zooming in a fair amount. We ended up with a picture of her sitting at everybody's desk, including hers, naked, pretending to work.

"OK," I said after a while. "Get dressed and we'll go shopping."

"Can I wear my underwear?"

"No," I said, "it's too ugly."

She pulled her blouse over her shoulder and buttoned it up, then slid her skirt up her legs. Finally she put on her shoes.

"You're driving," I said, heading for the door.

She locked the office as I don't have a key, then we walked over to her car. Getting in, I told her to drive to a mall about 20 miles away. She was relieved, as she was unlikely to run in to anybody she knew there. Off we went.

"Undo your top button," I said. "And move your knees apart."

Without taking her eyes off the road, she undid the button.

"Another one."

She undid another one, so now you could see the tops of her tits. She glanced down at them, then went back to driving.

"Pull your skirt up a bit," I said. I wanted to see what length we should aim for.

She shifted around and pulled it to about an inch above her knees.

"Higher."

She pulled it about two inches above her knees.

"Higher."

Three inches. I figured that was probably as high as she could get away with at work.

"Higher."

Four inches. Yes, too short for the office. But still...

"Higher."

Her skirt was now just covering her pussy. She didn't have bad looking legs, really. We were nearing the mall, so I left her alone. She parked near the door, but on the third level. There weren't that many people around. She went to pull her skirt back down.

"Leave it," I said.

She sighed and opened her door. I'm sure anybody in the right place would have had quite the show, but there wasn't anybody there to see her. No matter, she was still embarrassed.

As she stepped out, gravity intervened, and them hem of her skirt dropped to below her knees.

I got out, and she locked the car before we headed inside. I led, she slouched along behind me like a surly teenager who doesn't want to be there. We went into a department store, and headed for the women's clothing. We went through the aisles, with me choosing and handing her several skirts of different lengths for her to try on, then headed for a changing room.

"One at a time," I said, sitting down in the waiting area, "and bring them out to show me."

She went off to the changing room, and came out in the longest skirt. It was about two inches above her knees.

"It's tight around the waist," she said.

"Show me."

She untucked her blouse, and showed me the muffin top at her waist.

"That's OK," I said, "you're losing weight, remember?"

She sighed.

"Give us a twirl," I said, and watched as she turned around.

She went back to her changing room, and after a minute, came back out with the medium skirt on. This was about three to four inches above her knees. This was probably about as short as I thought she could get away with at the moment. She gave me a twirl.

"Sit here a second," I said, gesturing at the seat next to me. The hem came up another inch or so when she sat down.

"Off you go."

She stood up and went back to her changing room, just as another couple arrived. He sat down, she headed off with an armful of clothes.

Sandy came back out with the shortest skirt on. It was a good six inches above her knees. She didn't look happy about it. I twiddled my fingers to get her to twirl, and she did.

"It's too short," she hissed at me.

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Turn around and bend over so we can see."

The guy sitting next to me was suddenly paying attention. Sandy looked at him, then looked at me. I nodded slightly, with a stony look on my face.

She turned away from us, and bent over slightly. The hem came up a bit.

"Further," I said.

She bent slightly further, revealing more of her thighs.

"A bit further."

She bent further, so her body was at about ninety degrees to her legs. I could just see the bottom of her cheeks. As could the guy sitting next to me.

"Stay there a sec," I told her, then turned to the guy.

"What do you think? I asked him, "Too short?"

"Oh no," he whispered, I think his voice failing him.

"Off you go then," I told her, and she straightened up and scurried back to her changing room.

She came back with her skirts, as the guy's wife was showing him a dress, and I got up and we went back to the skirt section.

"Choose a couple of colors in the medium ones, and a couple of the shorter ones," I said. "Then we can look at shoes."

She picked business colors, gray, black, dark blue, of each skirt, then we headed off to pay. At the register, she looked at me, and I looked at her blankly, so she got her purse out and paid for her new skirts.

"I think you should wear one of the short ones," I said.

"I thought we were looking for shoes, sir."

"Yes, but you won't be wearing them with that long skirt, will you?"

"The changing rooms are way back over there," she whined, pointing back the way we'd come.

"You're right," I said. "You can use the bathrooms."

We were headed now or less that way anyway, so I diverted her over there. When we got to the doors, I took her hand and pulled her into the men's bathroom. She put up a bit of a struggle as she saw where I was taking her, then gave up and went along with it.

There was nobody in there.

"Go on then," I told her, pointing my phone at her while she stood by the urinals.

"But what if somebody comes in?"

"The longer you stand there, the more likely that becomes," I told her.

She pulled the black short skirt out of the bag, and pulled the tag off it, then unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor, stepping out of it and straight into the new skirt. Zipped up, she bent and collected the old skirt, and put it in the bag.

"There you go," I said, "that wasn't too bad, now was it?"

"Can we go?"

I headed to the door, and the outer door opened as we got to it. The guy coming through looked puzzled when he saw Sandy, but I just grinned at him and headed out.

As we got closer to the shoe store, Sandy was starting to hold back.

"What's wrong? I thought women loved shopping for shoes."

"Look," she said, "you've had your fun. I've bought what you wanted me to, and showed that guy my bum. But I don't want to go and try on shoes in this short a skirt. People might be able to see up it."

"The salesman will probably be able to see up it," I agreed.

"I'm not doing this any more," she said. "Let's just go home, OK?"

"Those shoes need replacing," I said. "So I say we go and replace them."

"No."

"Final answer?"

"Final answer."

I pulled my phone out, and found one of the pictures I'd taken of her, naked, in the hotel room. I showed it to her.

"I can send this to everybody you know," I said. "Won't that be fun, explaining it?"

She looked a little... let's say perturbed.

"You wouldn't."

"I would. But let's start out with one person. Let's see..." I went through her contacts that I'd added to my phone.

"Oooh," I said, "of course. Mommy."

"Don't," she pleaded.

"So we'll go and get some shoes?"

"No," she said. "I want to go home. You won't send that."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

I pressed 'send'.

"Now shall we go and get some shoes?"

"I can't believe you did that," she snapped. "I'm definitely not going now."

I dug out a picture of her on her knees, with my dick in her mouth. I showed it to her.

"Daddy?" I asked her. "Or hubby?"

She looked defeated.

"I'll do it," she muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll do it," she said, louder.

"You'll do what?" I asked her.

"I'll go with you and get some shoes."

"OK," I said.

Her phone rang. She stopped and dug it out of her bag.

"You bastard," she said. "It's my mother."

"Say 'hi' from me," I said, grinning.

She answered the phone. I could only hear her side of the conversation.

"Hello Mom."

"No, I'm fine."

"Really? I'm sorry, that shouldn't have gone to you, it was for Billy."

"I'm sure I didn't send it to anybody else."

"Yes, I'll check. Delete it though, won't you?"

"Did Daddy get it?"

"Well, that's good."

"No, I don't know what the number is. I sent it from an app, so it probably uses a random number that they have."

"OK."

"Love you too."

"Bye."

She hung up the phone.

"See?" I said, "you can think for yourself."

"Bastard. Don't ever do that again."

"That's up to you. If you do as you're told, I won't have to."

"Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

I pointed at the shoe shop.

"Go in there and get some shoes. As tall as you can walk in. You're to try them out."

"You're not coming with me?"

"No," I said, "but I'll be watching."

She sighed, and headed off to the shoe store, alone.

I stood, leaning against the wall, and started playing with my phone, like so many of the other passers-by. I watched her go in to the store, and a saleswoman go over to help her. Boo.

She went and sat down, and the saleswoman went to the back of the store. She came back with three boxes, and sat down in front of Sandy on a stool. She picked up one of Sandy's feet, and took her dull shoe off, and put what looked like a black five inch stiletto on it. She did the same with the other foot. I noticed her stiffen slightly as she did, which made me think she'd seen up Sandy's skirt. She stood up, and helped Sandy stand up. I watched Sandy totter across the floor. Being on tiptoe made her butt stick out, and I saw others watching her walking in the heels.

Sandy went and sat down, and the saleswoman took the shoes off her feet, putting them back in the box. I saw Sandy slip her feet into her dull shoes - I guessed she'd just agreed to buy the first pair that fit her to get this over and done with. She stood up, and they went over to the register so she could pay. She thanked the saleswoman, took the bag and headed back over to me.

"That was quick," I said to her.

"Can we go now?"

"I'd like to see your new shoes," I said, "why don't you put them on?"

She sighed, and got the new shoe box out of the bag. She opened it, and put the shoes on the floor, then took her feet out of the dull shoes, and put them into the new shoes. She picked the dull shoes up and put them in the shoe box, then put the box back in the bag.

"There," she said, "are you happy?"

"Sure," I said, "let's go."

We started walking back towards the car, her tottering along on her new heels. When we got to the car, I told her to put her bags in the trunk, and we got in to drive back to the office.

"Pull the skirt up," I told her as we pulled onto the freeway. She wiggled around in her seat, one arm at a time pulling the skirt up until I could see her pubic hair.

"Undo the buttons," I said. She undid the buttons on her blouse. I pulled the side nearest to me away so I could see her tit. I lifted it, rubbing the nipple with my thumb, and seeing it get a little hard.

"Now," I said, "tomorrow..."

"I can't tomorrow," she said. "I have church, then I have to go to Bob's."

"That's just outstanding," I said. "What are you going to do at Bob's?"

"I don't know," she said. "His wife's away, so he probably wants to fuck me."

"I want to hear everything. Tell you what, text me when you leave his place."

She nodded.

"How often do you see Bob?" I asked her.

"Probably once a week or so."

"And what do you do?"

"He usually has me suck him off, or if we have time, he fucks me."

"It doesn't sound like you enjoy it," I said.

"I don't, but I have to keep it up if I want to keep my job."

"You might not want to tell him about this," I said, gesturing at the two of us.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea," she said.

We drove in silence for a while.

Eventually we got back to the office. She pulled up next to my car.

"Can I go home now, sir?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, "once you've given me my blow job."

She sighed, and reached over and unzipped my pants. She fished my dick out, then started to lean towards me.

"Just a second," I said, "you remember how I like my whores when they're sucking my dick?"

She looked confused for a second.

"Naked?" she asked. She looked a little nervous.

"Naked, sir. You can keep the shoes on, if you like. They look sexy."

She shrugged out of her blouse, and unzipped, then pulled her skirt down to the floor, stepping her feet out of it. Then she bent over again, and started stroking my dick. She licked it a few times, before sucking it into her mouth. Her hand was stroking up and down the shaft. She ran her tongue around the head while I started playing with her nipples.

When she started bobbing her head up and down properly, I reached down to her pussy. Her legs were together, but I could get my finger against her clit. I put my fingers up to my mouth and licked them to get them nice and wet, then went back to stroking her clit. She moved her legs apart slightly to give me better access, but I concentrated on just her clit for the moment.

I could feel her starting to move her hips against my hand when I came in her mouth, and I pulled my hand away. We both knew that she was getting in to it, and she sat up, looking a little sad. I'd like to think because I hadn't made her cum.

I put my hand up to her mouth, and she opened up and sucked my fingers clean.

"Good girl," I said. "Now thank me."

"Thank you," she said.

"Thank you what?"

"Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome."

I tidied myself up and got out, and holding the door open, leant back in as she pulled her blouse over her shoulders.

"See you bright and early on Monday. Shall we say seven?"

She just nodded.

"Have fun tomorrow," I said, closing the door.

I stood and watched her drive away. I wondered if she was going to be able to change into her old shoes and skirt before she got home, and where - it would be tricky with the old stuff locked in the trunk. Still, not my problem.