[Author Disclaimer: This tale is in no way true. But I can't say it wasn't inspired by real events that have cropped up in the news from time to time -- real life, as we know, being always stranger than fiction.]

Welcome to Part 3 of "Our Back Room." If you missed part 2, you can find it in our archives. But to get you started on part 3, here's where we left off:

"Do you want me to write you up for this?" I say. I'm not going to initiate anything, but I want to see how far it will go, all on its own. If my theory about that back room was right, the room would find a way for those D/s moments to seep through.

[And now for part 3:]
---
"No," Jeremy says simply.

"No-o-o!" the girl says emphatically.

"So what am I supposed to do? I can't let this sort of thing happen in here," I said.

"It won't happen again," Jeremy says gravely.

"Can you promise me that?" I challenge.

"Yes," he says.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

Silence.

"We're sorry," Lynn says. "I promise we won't do it again."

I could feel there was still some groveling to be squeezed out of these two, and the room, that nasty room was all for making me bleed every drop of humiliation out of them. But I managed to let it go.

"Get out of here," I said to them, my voice indignant.

After that incident I had to tell my girl Holly what was going on with me. With that back room. I confessed the fantasy I'd made up while watching them kiss. I confessed that when I caught Lynn and Jeremy in the act and I had them cowering there before me, I could almost taste the D/s scene I wanted to run on them.

"But you didn't, right?" Holly said.

"No, but..."

"No harm done."

"But I was enjoying it. Yelling at them and watching them squirm."

"So? That happens all the time in real life. You were just doing your job, right?"

"Except for the fact that I watched them kissing while I had a fantasy, instead of jumping out right away. I was lurking."

"OK, so you were lurking."

"Thanks."

"So you were lurking. So what? You came out, didn't you? You didn't lurk forever, right?"

I started not wanting to be in that back room at all. I started taking the paper work out onto the floor during a slow time of the day. And if I was back there and one of the kids came in, I'd just leave, head for the kitchen as if I had something pressing to do.

Holly came into the restaurant more often, clowning, chatting with my crew and bringing me into conversations so that I didn't feel isolated, and like an ogre. My feelings for the place started to warm up and I felt less tension. Holly also did things at home. We played boss and employee. Holly was the bratty girl and I got to corner her, intimidate her, spank and paddle her ass until it was red. And after I paddled her sore and she was still bent over in the assumed position, I stroked her wet pussy, as if it were a purring kitty.

She even encouraged me to go to the monthly play party where I had met the couple who started all this boss-employee fantasy stuff. When I told her I wouldn't go without her, she said, "Let's go."

We went, but it was a party with really low attendance. A few couples using the stations, a few middle aged single men, very disappointing. I did, however, trap Holly in that corner, the musty, quiet one. I made her stand there with breasts exposed (it was fun in this public place to make her stand there half naked) and I made her say things like "I promise I won't make a disgrace of myself again, Ma'am" as I crowded her and slapped her ass.

After that, my fantasy mind calmed down a bit and the back room lost a lot of its power. When my employees came around, it didn't trigger any memories or fantasies. Holly knows the power of release in a well thought-out play scene. I was doing my paperwork in the office once more without worrying about who would come in. I started to forget what the big deal had been in the first place. Until one day another incident happened. I was sitting in the back corner changing out of my boots when in came one of my flirtiest, most voluptuous girls, Katie -- she always packaged her lavish, tanned breasts in something two sizes too small. I'd had to speak to her a couple of times about cleavage in the uniform. Right on her heels, Gary. He shut the door, glanced at the empty desk, stuck his foot at the door to bar entrance and instantly reached into the front of Katie's uniform scooping out her breasts one at a time. Gary reached around the back of her dress, lowered her zipper, and pulled the uniform down off her shoulders low enough to free her big, round tits and set them bobbing. As they rolled, all liquid like water balloons, Katie was undoing Gary's fly. She let his pants drop. He wore no underwear.

Before I even had a chance to think, he was suckling one boob and pinching the other; she was fondling his balls, rubbing his cock with the flat of her palm, he was running his hand up her leg, pushing up the bit of dress. She opened her legs a little; his hand was at her crotch. They both moaned and panted. And my imagination was off. Oh, I should have come out of the shadows hollering. But I pictured how fat and round Katie's ass would be. I pictured how it would quiver when I spanked her with the ruler from the desk drawer. I would make her slap his penis with it too, and if she refused me, I'd whip her rolling ass for it. I would force him to his knees to ask forgiveness. Her, I would open her pussy and make threats. I'd bind her hands behind her back with my sweater and when her big breasts swelled upwards, I would have him slap them around -- gently -- but with me calling them dirty and filthy and asking for abuse. When her excitement made her drip down her thick thigh, I'd make him lick her juice, every drop, lick every pearl of it off the hairs of her dark bush.

I looked around for something to beat him with -- something light but with a nasty sound, the leather bound register. I would slap him around a bit, his shoulders, his ass, his thighs, and the sound of it would make him jumpy. Then I'd order him to fasten paper clips to Katie's nipples. If he refused, I'd beat him on his delts where the sound would be more intimidating and brutal. If he clipped her nipples, I would bounce her fat breasts until the clips snapped off, biting her nipples on the way. I stopped my fantasy.

He was trying to enter her, sliding himself up under her skirt, his pants around his ankles, her panties just below her knees, which bowed out to make room for him, his hands fondling her thick boobs, her hands guiding his penis and both of them kissing so they would never notice me. I waited. My heart was pounding. Caught in the act, I was saying to myself. Now was the time. Distracted by their hot arousal, they would spend a moment in complete confusion. It would take them seconds to realize I had been watching them all along, they were bagged doing something very wrong, they were exposed, at my mercy, their jobs in peril. Seconds to put all that together.

What would I do with that moment? I could sweep by the desk and grab the ruler out of the drawer. I caught myself. No. Simply reprimand them, just like last time, I counseled myself. But the room wanted more.

I had stood and stepped out of the shadows and approached them. And still amid their gasping and mouth-to-mouth, they didn't see me. I was able to get real close to them. I stared at them with angry scowl, waiting, as they continued their misguided fuck session.

[To be continued...]