Welcome to Part 4 of "Our Back Room." If you missed part 3, you can find it in our archives. But to get you started on part 4, here's where we left off:

"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 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 as they continued their misguided fucking and waited."

[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. And now for part 4:]
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It took about twenty seconds later for my proximity to startle them awake -- at which point, Katie screamed.

Instead of covering her naked self instantly, Katie backed up against the door leaving her breasts hanging fatly with Gary's wet, red suck marks all over them. Katie's nipples faced me defiantly from those firm melons. I thought of feeling them up while saying to her "Are these implants?" Putting both hands on one breast and firmly pressing as if I were giving her a medical exam. What excuse could I make? "I shall examine your breast thoroughly, slowly because fake tits are not allowed in this company." No, those mounds were real -- as full and firm as you see in the movies. I pictured them in bondage, ropes under them to push them up and out, ropes over them to squeeze them tight. Clothes pins here, clothes pins there, clothes pin up under her dress right, right there on her clitoral bump: clip.

And while I was at it, clothes pins all up and down the skin pulled and stretched tight over his penis, then tight over his balls. Pulling more and more of it between the clothes pin until his balls bulged out, purple veined, looking like smooth marbles under their shiny, thin, stretched sac membrane. Then I'd leave his prick to its devices while I bent him over, kicked out his legs, held his ass open, and entered him, inching my way dark and deep, until I could finger his prostate.

"Do you realize you are at a work place?" I said finally in a vicious voice.

Katie pressed her shoulders against the door; her breasts rose and expanded -- was she trying to arouse me with the wide brown splotches that ringed her thick nipples. The rings puckered; the nipples pointed. I wished I had my little sander sheets to burnish those nipples with. You could slap her nipples with them and they'd feel like cloth, but if you swiped them over the nipples sideways, that was when sander sheets showed their hidden talents. I like tits with raw sanded crests. Touch them with your tongue and she yelps, your salt burns, her breasts jump, fall, and bounce.

"Please don't fire us," Katie said. I stared at her beautiful breasts as if they were doing the talking.

"You read my mind," I said. The fantasy, I meant. She was pleading, as she should be.

"No, please," Gary echoed. He was thin with naturally tight muscles. What I could see of him below his shirt was angular, bronze, firm. I could just see the pink nipple of his penis peek from beneath the shirt hem. It was beating. Fat. Drooling from the eye.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't fire you," I said. I was resisting all of my temptations. Barely. But, yes, I was doing the right thing. Except…

They weren't getting dressed and I should have yelled at them to do so.

"I don't have a reason," Gary said. "You probably should fire us. But…"

"But?" I said.

"Couldn't you just punish us?"

"What?" I choked. I got that itchy prickly feeling, a chill, as if he really WAS reading my mind. Then I thought, what a brash thing to say. It was unreasonable. My intellect wondered why. But my southern brain wanted it.

"Where do you think you are? Afgahnistan?" I said, barely collecting myself. "We don't do punishment in the work place. This is America. Here we just fire your ass." But I wasn't telling them to get dressed and get out, was I? Quite the contrary. I eyed them intensely and let the sight of them intoxicate me.

"We'd rather be punished than fired," Katie said. She wiggled her arms out of her dress. "I really need this job Elaine." And she finished unzipping it so that it fell to the floor. "Please." Her white panties still clung at her knees, but the rest of her brown, rich body was naked. Thick hips; dark, thick-haired bush; meaty thighs; big, swaying, stand-up breasts -- she was a fertility statue. So very voluptuous. I dreamed of the cunt, how it would feel, how wet and hot. I dreamed of the tit bondage I could apply to those fat beauties. I felt it under my tongue.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked. "Anyone could come in here."

"I locked the door," Gary said. He pulled his shirt off over his head. "Do whatever you want with us." I could see the light outline of his six pack. And his abs funneled down to his bush invitingly. "Please, just don't fire us," he finished. His nipple halos were raw steak red. I should like to have painted them with lipstick. I should like to have tortured them until he collapsed to the ground. I should like to have bent her over, taken a ruler lengthwise to the black fur runway of her pussy and listen to the sound of her viscous slit crackling as the ruler slapped against it.

They stood there naked against the door, both of them, awaiting my command.

"It just doesn't work that way," I said. "You guys were practically fucking on the job." I couldn't let them drag me into this. Or at least, I thought, I was going to give it a good fight.

"Can't we do anything that will take the place of us getting fired?" Gary said. "I know we you have to take disciplinary action, but there's all kinds of discipline. We won't complain --"

"Nothing." They didn't know I was a player, that I'd lived a whole way of life built on acquiring skills for torturing them.

He dropped to the floor on his knees, naked, and fell forward. "We won't breathe a word if you'll take it out of us some other way." His tight bare ass opened slightly as he started to kiss my feet.

"What the --"

"Please," he whispered between light kisses. He groveled so sweetly, I was getting wet. Next thing you know, Katie's down there on her knees next to him and I'm looking at her beautifully round ass wanting to spank it hard.

"We know you're a domme," he said. "It's cool. We want you to punish us. We want to keep our jobs."

His words paralyzed me. He was still kissing my feet -- my dusty boots I should say. Her thick brown hair cascaded over her shoulders onto the floor as she kissed right along side him. His broad shoulders; his tight ass -- I wanted to strap-on him, and then her, ass first, cunt second. Instead I backed away.

"What do you mean, I'm a domme?" I snarled at him. Something was so not right about this, it made me nervous, yet my lust was so piqued I could only follow events dumbly.

"We know you play," Gary said.

"But what's that got to do with this?"

"We're sorry we did this," he said. "We don't want to get fired. You're a domme. So…"

"If you just punish us, like a domme, we can keep our jobs -- everybody's happy --"

"Except I have two employees who don't have the discretion to keep their sex life out of the work place. And I compound things by doing the same." I was still shocked at the nerve, and at my wide open personal life. How did they know? And what were they up to? This was reverse seduction, even more terrifying than my incorrigible fantasies.

[To be continued...]