Leading a Double Lifeby0131aj©
Elaine was leading a double life. Just turned twenty and she had already found a job she loved in the only private investment bank in her home town. She was the youngest in an almost all-female staff, the only man being the manager. She loved her work, her clients and, most of all, her colleagues. They were all in their late thirties or early forties and had taken her under their wing as a sort of surrogate daughter.
One thing she didn't like was the uniform they all had to wear. It was only a white silk blouse and a straight black skirt but, although she had been measured for it at her interview, the blouses all seemed to be tight around her firm breasts and the skirt was at least two inches shorter than she had expected it to be. And far too tight across her round cheeks. On her first day she felt very self conscious about wearing her uniform but, on arrival, she noticed that all the other women seemed to be in the same predicament. It was as if someone had deliberately altered the measurements on the requisition form.
The only real fly in the ointment, however, was their manager. Distant and aloof, he stayed in his office all day and was only heard when he roared from his office. All the other women seemed to be terrified of him even though Elaine couldn't see what there was to be terrified of such a small balding fat man.
But then, Elaine had another source of income because Elaine was leading a double life. Elaine was very proud of the fact that she sold her worn panties, used thongs, dirty lingerie and anything else she could spare.
It all started two years ago when her parents bought her a laptop for her eighteenth birthday. Until then she had been restricted to using the family computer and wouldn't have dreamed about going into a chat room. Now, however, she had realised just how turned on she got talking to men (and sometimes women) that she didn't know. Very soon they would ask her for photos before the really brave ones began to ask her for her worn panties. She couldn't believe it at first and actually found it quite embarrassing. She couldn't deny that it also felt incredibly naughty - and she loved it!
As she got over her initial inhibitions and began to post her underwear to the men and women who requested them she realised that she would very soon have no panties left. That's when she had a brainwave and decided to sell rather than give her knickers away. Within months she had a thriving business that took very little effort on her part other than wearing her panties and then posting them to whoever wanted them.
One man in particular was a very good customer and through their emails she had discovered that he lived in her hometown and seemed to revel in her being dominant with him in her messages. She could still remember the first time she had sent him a pair and could still remember the thrill she felt all that day, knowing that the panties she was wearing would be sent off to a complete stranger. She could remember how her pussy had throbbed whenever she thought about what she was going to do and how her juices had leaked and moistened her panties, just as she imagined her new "customer" would want. The more excited she got, the wetter her panties became.
By the end of the day she was sure she could smell the fresh aroma from the juices leaking from between her legs. She wasn't sure who else was at home at that moment but she knew had to touch herself. Sitting down on her single bed, she raised her short skirt up over her smooth thighs and slowly slid her fingers under the waistband of her sodden panties.
Moving along her moist, shaven lips, she couldn't help but touch her swollen clit and that touch was enough to give her the most pleasurable shock of her young life. Returning to her lips, she just had to slip her finger in and gasped as her pussy tightened around it. She was so tight inside and loved the feeling of enveloping her finger, holding on to it and squeezing it, pulling it deeper and deeper, just as she pushed faster and faster. Her juices were now running down her finger, down between her cheeks and onto her panties, just as her orgasm was building and she began to lose control.
Forcing herself to remove her finger, she pulled her knickers to the side with her other hand and this time plunged two fingers deep into her waiting pussy. Instantly she came and the orgasm was so intense -- she had never cum like this before and wave after wave washed over her body until she was helpless with pleasure. She lay there for about ten minutes unable to move, her young pussy still throbbing and shining with her juices, her nipples still hard and erect and sensitive. She moved her fingers ever so slightly, the fingers still deep within her swollen pussy - each movement sending shivers of pleasure up her spine and down her legs. Eventually she tentatively withdrew her fingers then wiped them on the front of her knickers. She knew she would have to wear them overnight and wondered if her panties would survive another drenching.
That night she dreamed about what the unknown recipient of her panties would do with them and the next morning they were really sticky, the scent of her cum wafting up from under her duvet. She gingerly took them off, rolled them up and sealed them in a padded envelope before taking it to the local post office. Her pussy was still throbbing and she couldn't help but smile to herself as she handed over her package to the elderly spinster behind the counter.
Ever since then, he had become a regular customer but had also become more and more subservient in his manner as she made him beg in his emails for every pair of panties she sent him. With him and a few others on her mailing list, she really was making good money and, together with her wages from the bank, life was good.
If only she didn't have to work for her horrible manager -- Mr Cyril Jenkins.
Cyril Jenkins was leading a double life. At work he was the respected pillar of the community, feared by his staff, loved by his shareholders. At home, however, it was a different story. At home it was he who lived in fear -- fear of his domineering wife who took every chance she got to belittle him, and especially his performance in bed. But Cyril had a secret that even his witch of a wife didn't know about -- he bought used panties online and used them for his own pleasure.
It had been going on for about two years now. He had stumbled upon the site by accident but now he couldn't stop -- he was addicted to a young girl's used panties and he couldn't get enough. He didn't even know the girl. All he knew was that he lived for the post being delivered and the arrival of another pair of used knickers for him to wrap around his cock.
But his addiction was getting worse and he was having to beg more and more whenever he wanted his fix. He had ordered two pairs of used cotton panties from his favourite supplier this week and for days now he had been beating his tyrant of a wife to the mail before she opened it and he lost the last shred of self esteem.
Finally the large envelope dropped through the letter box, discretely packaged as always. He knew as soon as he saw it the pleasure that it would bring and he could feel that familiar tingling in his balls already.
His wife yelled from the bedroom, demanding to know what was in the post but when he assured her it was just bills she lost interest. He popped his head around the door of the bedroom he was no longer allowed to share and told her he was going for his shower. She waved dismissively at him and he scurried off with his treasure hidden in his dressing gown.
He reached the bathroom safely and, after turning on the shower, he pulled his pyjama trousers down and sat on the toilet, his bare arse shivering as it touched the cold seat. Slowly, wanting to enjoy every moment, he opened the envelope and immediately the smell of pussy juice filled his nostrils. The scent seemed to surround him as his cock stiffened and his mind turned to thoughts of the pussy that had so recently rubbed against these panties.
Carefully pulling the first pair, plain white cotton, out of the envelope and fitted them over his head. At first he covered his nose with the crotch as he stroked his hard prick with his other hand, sniffing at the strong scent his Mistress had left for him. Pulling them down slightly, he licked the still damp white gusset, tasting the white cream, tasting the woman who had worn these panties, tasting his Mistress's juices.
He then took out the other pair, red panties with small white hearts on them. He imagined the crotch was still damp as he wrapped them around his cock as began to stroke it once more.
He could smell pussy from the panties on his face and he could feel pussy from the panties on his cock. He was in overdrive as he twisted the panties on his head and sniffed until he found where his Mistress's arsehole would have been.
Sucking on the stained white cotton and stroking his cock for all he was worth, his breathing quickened as the steam from the shower was making him hotter and hotter. His hands flew ever faster on his cock and the moisture dripped off his hairy balls. Just as he was about to cum, his wife hammered on the door.
"What are you doing in there? I hope you're not playing with your tiny cock, you worthless pervert! Ger out here now and let me have my shower."
Work at the bank was different today. Elaine knew as soon as she arrived that something was wrong. Mr Jenkins had been in a foul mood all day and had called a staff meeting for that afternoon, their early closing day. All the other women seemed suddenly fearful and Elaine wondered why a simple thing like a staff meeting should have them all in such a state. She was soon to find out.
Once the doors had been closed to the public everyone headed for the manager's office. As her best friend, Mary, chapped on the door, the women all seemed to shrink into themselves as Mr Jenkins yelled at them to enter. Reluctantly, the women trudged through the doorway and sat down on the seats that had been arranged in a semi circle around the manager's desk.
All the women, save Elaine, hung their heads as Mr Jenkins proceeded to yell at them for being a lazy bunch of incompetents. All of them were useless and something would have to be done about it. A lesson needed to be learned and he was just the man to deliver that lesson.
"Mary!" he yelled.
Elaine's best friend, the woman who had been her mentor since her first day at work gasped as the rest of the staff seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Mr Jenkins pushed his chair back from his desk as Mary tool a deep breath and stood up.
"You know what to do."
Elaine watched, totally mystified as, with a small nod, Mary walked round the desk and proceeded to lie across their manager's lap. Mr Jenkins looked up from the woman draped across his knees and stared directly at Elaine.
"We do things a little differently here. If you don't like it, you can leave but you will never work in this bank ever again. Nor anywhere else in this town."
With that, he turned his attention back to Mary and slightly adjusted her knees so that he could have ready access to her backside as well as her pussy. Making himself comfortable, he ordered Elaine to come and stand behind Mary so that she could see exactly what was happening. As he said this he moved his right hand down, resting it on Mary's stocking-clad thigh for a second, before moving it up, moving it under her short skirt. Mary trembled, hoping he would be satisfied with just her bottom.
Elaine stood on the spot, mesmerised. Why was he doing this? Why was Mary letting him? Why were none of the other women protesting? The questions swirled around in her head but there were no answers to be found. All she could see was Mr Jenkins hand moving further upwards under the cover of her friend's black skirt.
"Sometimes the punishment I kindly administer requires the removal of all clothing," he once again addressed Elaine. "Today, however, since this is the first time you will have witnessed anything like this, I will simply pull up Mary's skirt."
Without another word, he deftly lifted and folded her skirt up onto her back. Elaine couldn't help but notice the stockings and black silk knickers that her friend was wearing. In any other situation she would have told Mary how sexy she looked. But not here, not like this; not draped across their manager's lap, in his office, in front of the rest of the staff.
Elaine tried but couldn't tear her eyes away as Mr Jenkins began by gently smoothing his right hand over Mary's silky upturned cheeks. Both women gasped as, almost innocently, his hand slid down between her legs and pressed on the soaking crotch of her black knickers.
Grinning smugly to himself, Elaine watched in horror as this evil man raised his hand from Mary's pussy and announced that the spanking was about to begin. She watched in horror as he brought his hand down on Mary's right cheek, the noise of the slap reverberating around the office. Once again, Elaine looked to the other women but they were all looking at the floor, glad that it wasn't their turn.
Once again the right hand was raised, falling this time on the poor woman's left cheek. Ten more followed, five on each side, before their manager stopped, his breathing ragged, his forehead covered in drops of sweat.
"What a horrible little man," thought Elaine, once more wondering why they were all putting up with this. If she thought Mary's ordeal was over, however, she was badly mistaken.
Reaching for the waistband of the silky knickers, Mr Jenkins grabbed them and roughly pulled them down until they were hanging at her knees. Elaine stared in wonder and awe at the sight of her friend's pink cheeks and shuddered as she felt a little tingle between her legs.
With her cheeks visible and her legs apart Mary knew that her young colleague would also be able to see her shaven pussy and she shivered once more at the shameful position she found herself in. Once again, their evil manager slipped a finger down to slide along her pussy lips and, once again, he grinned to feel how wet his employee was.
He didn't waste any time now, the blows raining down on poor Mary's upturned cheeks, first one then the other. The noise of the slaps on her now bare bottom were even louder and Mary started to wiggle on her manager's lap. She knew, however, that the rule was her knickers were never allowed to fall to the floor and the more she moved her outstretched legs, the more she knew she was showing to the shocked Elaine.
Looking down at her friend's poor cheeks, the younger girl noticed that her bottom was much redder than the slight pink tinge it had had earlier but even now their manager didn't stop. More and more slaps fell on Mary's upturned cheeks before Mr Jenkins finally stopped and admired the heat rising from the punished bottom before him.
As if he had given an unseen signal, Mary climbed off his lip and gingerly waddled to the corner of the room, her knickers still stretched between her legs, her red bottom naked for all to see.
Elaine was told to sit back down again and the meeting continued. The rest of the women kept their heads down, unwilling to be reminded of the punishment that could befall any one of them at any time.
After a few more lectures about performance from the sweating Mr Jenkins, the meeting ended and everyone was told to leave. Everyone that is, but Mary. Her ordeal was not yet over.
Elaine was still raging when she left the bank. The other women had explained that the bank, therefore Mr Jenkins, held their mortgages, personal loans and every other account they and their families had. That is why they put up with their too-small uniforms; that is why they put up with his behaviour and that is why, once a month at the staff meeting, they allowed him to spank one of them. What went on after the others left his office was something they never spoke of, not even to each other.
So Elaine was angry. Elaine was also incredibly turned on. She had never seen anything so arousing as Mary draped over Mr Jenkins lap and she knew that if she didn't get home soon she would have to find relief somewhere much more public.
She did, however, get home before the itch between her legs overtook her sanity. She raced to her bedroom and lay down on the bed, desperate to touch herself, desperate to feel her fingers on her clit and deep in her pussy. But as she lay there she suddenly realised this would not be enough; she needed something more, something dirty, something risky.
She got up off the bed and turned on her laptop, logging on to her own website, and posted a message to all her customers.
"If you want to buy the panties that I am wearing right now and watch me masturbating then place your bids now."
The auction began almost immediately and, aiming her webcam directly at her chair, putting on the mask she sometimes wore when she couldn't sleep, she began.
Sitting in the chair, her vision removed by her mask, she began to open the buttons on her silk blouse. Starting at the top and working down, she slowly revealed her bra covered breasts to the hungry eye of the camera, her every sense heightened by her lack of sight and by her lust. Shrugging her blouse off her shoulders, she pulled her arms free then dropped it on the floor.
Looking directly at where she imagined the camera to be, she reached behind herself and unhooked her white lace bra, letting her firm round breasts hang free. She knew it wasn't because her room was cold that her nipples were already hard as rocks but because of her own arousal and the thought of unknown men staring at her engorged nipples, imagining one or more of them licking and sucking on her breasts. She couldn't stop her herself as she reached up and brought her hands to them, rubbing them, squeezing them.
She could feel the fire between her legs burn so she once again reached behind herself to unfasten her skirt, lifting her bottom slightly to slide it down her stocking covered legs. Dropping it to the floor, she suddenly realised that she was sitting blindfolded in front of countless men and women in only her white lace thong and she shuddered in embarrassment and arousal. It was her arousal that came out on top.
Opening her legs, her right hand reached down between them and she allowed one solitary finger to press against her clit just momentarily. She felt shivers run through her entire body from that simple touch and she was desperate to expose her pussy to the waiting eyes. Unable to hold back any longer, she practically tore the tiny piece of lace down her legs before dropping it on the floor beside her. She had other plans for it later but she wished her audience could hold it to their collective nose, hold it and smell her arousal from them right now as she could smell it wafting up from her pussy.
Leaning back in the high-backed chair, she twisted her ankles behind the legs so that the camera had a very clear view of her closely-trimmed dark bush and her dark and swollen clit. Again taking just one finger, she ran it along her pussy, covering it in her own juices before bringing her hand up to her mouth. Sniffing first, she sucked her finger between her soft lips, tasting her juices on her tongue and thought that she had never tasted so good.
Breathing harder now, her body was desperate for relief. Spreading her pussy lips with her left hand, it was once again her lucky right one that reached for her sensitive clit. Once again it was just one finger, one red finger nail that teased it, stroking it ever so slightly before her fingertip pressed hard against it. Her whole body jerked off the chair at the sudden pressure before she forced herself back down and began to circle it slowly.