Scissor Link Georgette Kaplan (best self help books to read .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Georgette Kaplan
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Janet looked her over, with a smirk that showed she knew exactly how much Wendy liked being looked over. “I’m wondering what you’ll let me get away with.”
“I’m pretty flexible,” Wendy replied. “Both in terms of my body and with gay stuff.”
“Not in bed, I know you’ll let me do anything I want to do to you there. I’m referring to intensity. I’m referring to something for you to endure.”
Wendy gulped. She’d never actually gulped just because someone implied she was about to get a break-off-a-switch whooping. Then again, no one had ever implied she’d get a break-off-a-switch whooping. And it wasn’t like anyone fantasized about being sent to time-out.
“Have I been a bad girl?” Wendy asked, trying to sound sultry and fearing she mostly sounded like she needed a cough drop.
Janet nodded slowly. “The phone call. You’re a smart girl, Ms. Cedar. You clearly realized that was a work call,to be taken seriously,and not an appropriate venue for your antics.” She leaned toward Wendy. “Do you enjoy the thought of me trying to attend to important business, with respected colleagues, while imagining you? What I’m going to do to you? How I’m going to do it?”
Wendy bit her lip. “I do like that thought,” she said. “I like knowing that you think of doing things to me as much as I think about it.”
Janet shook her head. “Naughty. So naughty. And willfully disobedient.”
“I need to be taught a lesson,” Wendy agreed. “Tamed with a firm hand…”
She could almost see Janet shiver. “Pull up your skirt.”
Wendy did. But slowly. Not to be dramatic, but so that her hands didn’t shake. “I liked how it felt, that day in the elevator. I couldn’t stop thinking of how it would feel if you did it. I still can’t.”
“Do you think I’m going to reward you or punish you?” Janet asked. Her eyes burned into Wendy, nearly making her whimper before they dropped down to bare thighs. “Pink panties, Ms. Cedar. That’s very cute. Did you used to wear cute panties like that for your college girlfriend?”
“No. Just for you.”
“I like them,” Janet said. “But your behavior has to come first. I’m taking away the privilege of wearing panties. From now on, whenever you’re at work, you’ll have to put up with knowing that you’re exposed. That anyone can see you, or feel you, at any time, and there’s nothing to protect you from it. That I’m the only person who will know. And I will check to make sure you’re being obedient, Ms. Cedar. If you’re not…” She trailed off.
Wendy shuddered. It wasn’t in fear.
“Well? Take them off. You’re not allowed to be covered.”
Wendy couldn’t stop herself from shaking as she planted her shoulders against her seat, arched her hips, worked her panties down. She felt Janet’s eyes on her sex, saw the look in Janet’s eyes as the woman saw her exposed, and she was suddenly aware of just how much need there was in her body. If Janet had asked, she would’ve done anything for her.
She set herself back down in her seat, and her skirt hadn’t fallen back down. Her bare ass touched the cool leather of the seat cushion and she remembered the glove and she remembered how good it had been just for Janet to hear her and she clenched and tightened until it was almost painful, until she wanted to beg Janet to finger her just so she wouldn’t implode. But she had to be good. She’d disobeyed enough for one day.
She bent over—Christ, everything was such a fucking porno with Janet watching her—and scanted the panties down her legs. Over either one of her feet. As she lifted them, one by one, the pressure on her womanhood crested. She thought she could get off just by squeezing her thighs together. Instead, she picked her panties up off the floor and held them out to Janet.
Janet took them and put them in her pocket. “I hope you brought a pink dildo,” she said. “It’s my favorite color.”
When they arrived at the departure gate, Wendy patted her skirt down about half a billion times in ten seconds before the chauffeur got the door and she got out, following a Janet who appeared cool as a cucumber. As if she didn’t have another woman’s panties in her fucking breast pocket.
Janet stood beside the door as Wendy got out, being more careful of her skirt than she’d ever been. “Remember, Ms. Cedar,” Janet said, continuing their conversation as if it had been about the market value of legumes. “Next time I expect you to follow my instructions implicitly.”
“Yes, Ms. Lace,” Wendy replied. She meant every word.
Wendy would’ve expected nothing less: Janet had airports gamed down to a science. Before they were even out of the limousine, she had given Wendy slip-on shoes and clear toiletry bags for her personal items. She double-checked Wendy’s documents for her, then fitted them to her own, and put them in her jacket pocket. Not the same one she had Wendy’s panties in.
Wendy couldn’t stop thinking about how bare she was. If she bent over too far, took a long stride, walked down a flight of stairs, anyone could see her. It was probably one of her better reasons for not taking the stairs, all told.
She handed over her laptop case at security, took off her shoes, and could feelthe inside of her skirt on her thighs, her hips. Of course, she could always feel it there, but it felt so much more intimate with nothing to stop it from going through her. If Janet touched her, right through her skirt, it’d be like she was wearing nothing at all.
She looked over at Janet. Janet was watching her. Smirking. She put her shoes back on. Very carefully. She imagined Janet declaring her panties at the customs desk. Wait, they didn’t
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