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.