Cindy On A Leash

Sandra made a right turn onto Walker Street - she tried to avoid driving
too fast in her anticipation, but it wasn't easy. She couldn't wait to get
to the office. Usually she'd be cursing at the mundane, dead-end job
awaiting her downtown, at the small but prestigious consulting firm where
she worked, so the 20-minute ride was more of a final break before the bore
began - but not today. She lovingly looked at the big manila envelope
sitting on the passenger seat. Boredom, hopefully, wasn't going to be a
problem... not anymore. She sped past another car.

Cindy on a leash...

The 36-year old woman could feel the wet heat building between her legs.
Silly - how she'd cursed when she had been given the crap work again just
the day before. Being the "office manager" - a title that far exceeded the
job's actual significance and mainly meant she was doing whatever
administrative work that came along - meant she'd been charged with going
through John Anderson's desk and separating out business and personal
items. John, one of the young, brightest executives of the company, had
apparently told the management he was leaving for a new job all the way in
Switzerland, taking along his new wife, and leaving the USA for good.
Security concerns being what they were these days, and given the kind of
top priority projects an executive like Anderson supervised, he hadn't even
been allowed to go back to his desk to clear out his personal stuff, lest
he may think of sneaking out sensitive material at the very last second -
an exceedingly rude treatment Anderson obviously had not anticipated...

"Oh, well", Sandra chuckled as she made another turn. She'd liked
Anderson quite a bit - but then everyone did, especially the women. Not
only was he a success story, having become a top-notch executive at the
company at a young age, he was also boyishly handsome and very, very fit,
too. Any girl could have fallen for her. Well, some fell harder than
others...

Cindy on a leash...

Sandra bit her lip in amusement and turned the radio from her usual soft
romantics channel to Hard Rock 94.50 - she was in that kind of mood.

John had called her no more than half an hour after he'd been escorted
out of the building by the security. He was always courteous, but the
handsome executive had never paid much attention to Sandra, preferring to
focus his attention on the younger, fairer beauties hired fresh from
college. There was an unofficial policy against office-dating but John
didn't pay much attention to it and hardly anyone complained.

"Sandra, are you sorting out the stuff at my desk?" he'd asked, in an
exceedingly sweet, if somehow alarmed, tone.

After a period of mumbling around it, he'd come to the point: Evidently,
while everything he left behind was quite valuable to him and he'd like to
get them back as soon as possible, there was one manila envelope in the
locked drawer, which he really sounded like he wanted back worse than all
the other junk that he'd forgotten in his desk. And could Sandra please
give the envelope to Cindy Cooper, as John was flying out that very
night... Cindy Cooper... Sandra had immediately recalled Anderson and
Cindy being an item for a short while, shortly after the young woman had
joined the company... It had ended somewhat badly she'd thought... "Sure
thing" Sandra had replied to Anderson, agreeable as always. She'd give the
envelope to Cindy as soon as the young woman got back from her business
trip in San Francisco...

Sandra was always the agreeable kind; she knew everyone saw her as the
pleasant if unremarkable office colleague, friendly if a bit too
plain-vanilla and conservative... And of course she was easy to push
around, easy to dump work on, easy to demand things from, wasn't she?
She'd hardly turn down a small little request, from one so charming as John
Anderson, right?

Cindy, on the other hand, was one of those young women Sandra had never
been. Beautiful, driven, confident, popular... She was a Georgetown grad,
wasn't she? Something like that - Sandra had gone to a state school, one
of the good ones, but still a state school. Cindy always seemed to thump
her nose at Sandra, perhaps thinking the elder woman was just some big
loser. While she was herself an ambitious young bitch, like so many of her
kind, armed with ivy-league diplomas and serious business suits, girl-power
to the tilt... Cindy was a good 10 years Sandra's junior, yet had to be
making twice as much as Sandra already. Of course, whether Cindy had the
big brains or not, it sure helped that she always charmed the clients with
that pretty face and perfect body of hers... She was a total gym rat as
best Sandra could tell, always spending the early morning hours at the
Bally's across the street from work.

"Good for her" Sandra snickered. "And good for me..."

The 36-year old could feel her excitement growing by the minute.

Cindy on a leash...

That, after all, was what Sandra had seen on the very first picture.
Oh, she had to take a look in the envelope, of course... Anderson said it
was personal, but really, who could tell for sure without looking? What if
the details of the latest project were waiting neatly typed up in that
manila folder? Cindy had called, too, of course. In the evening, perhaps
after Anderson had gotten around to informing his ex that she was supposed
to pick up the precious manila envelope from Sandra. And Sandra had tried
to hold her tongue - but failed:

"You know", she'd said, "I did have to take a brief look inside the
envelope, just to make sure it didn't contain anything work-related..."

There had been no sound at the other end of the phone for a few moments,
but Sandra could almost sense the conflicted feelings emanating through the
miles of phone lines. The older woman had prepared herself for a slew of
angry threats but it wasn't what she got for her nosiness:

Instead, obviously on the verge of a panic attack, Cindy had dived into
a lengthy explanation: She'd been so inexperienced then. Barely 22 years
old, fresh out of college and she'd been in total awe of John Anderson. He
was just so handsome, so successful, so powerful... And he always wanted
her to do such nasty things, he was really like that, and she'd never given
in, until that one night when she'd been drunk out of her mind, and it was
John's birthday... so she'd allowed him to take a few pictures like he'd
always wanted. He'd never given them back, despite her repeated asking,
and they'd eventually broken up, Cindy not wanting to submit to his sick
demands ever again, and John just wanting to chase after more accommodating
girls...

She hadn't sounded like the confident, young, career-building Ms.
Perfect at all - she'd sounded like a little girl on the verge of tears.
And Sandra had done her part, assuring the young one, the young pretty one,
that there was nothing to worry, Sandra would hand over the envelope the
next morning, it would all be just their tiny little secret.

But then, Sandra had began pondering...

Cindy on a leash, wearing nothing but a sexy pair of red lingerie... It
wasn't the most X-rated picture to fall out of the envelope - there were a
number of topless pictures after all, even a couple full nudes, in addition
to a variety of poses with Cindy in bondage and submission. Still, the
picture with Cindy on a leash had the most impact on Sandra. It was the
most poetic, suggestive one somehow. Even Cindy's face looked different on
that one, plainly scared and embarrassed, not quite like taking part in a
kinky little private game in a willing fashion. There were a total of 24
pictures in the envelope, along with the negatives. Pictures that could
really ruin the young, pretty, oh-so-conceited Cindy Cooper for life...

Cindy on a leash - what would that look like in the flesh?

Sandra had opened a bottle of wine, drank most of it, and fallen asleep,
thinking and pondering... dreaming...

In the dream there were two women -- one a slender, short-haired
brunette, the other a lustrous, luscious, long-haired blonde. One shy and
small-busted, the other a proud beauty. But the brunette held a whip and
the blonde cowered before her. The whip-wielding Mistress wore a full
corset & stocking set made of shiny, mean leather, the slave-girl just a
tiny white thong made of sheer silk. And the Mistress began training the
slave-girl patiently, demandingly, ruthlessly. There were lessons to be
learned, specific rules to be memorized, skills to be developed in order to
become the ideal slave. There was more in the dream - sexual sensations,
games with toys...

Sandra had woken up with a bed soaking wet with her own sexual juices...
She was no lesbian, of course, but the idea of power over another... of at
last being the aggressor, the dominator, the one in command... she'd had
to go to the bathroom to relieve herself once more...

She made a turn onto Washington Street, the last mile to the office.

Her mind still wandered through the pictures she'd seen...

Cindy on a leash.

Cindy handcuffed to the bedposts, only her upper body showing, but her
naked tits jutting forward...

Cindy on her knees, her wrists and elbows bound tightly behind her back,
and a ball gag in her mouth...

Cindy wearing just a thong, play-acting with a big black dildo, sticking
it in her mouth...

Cindy completely naked, sitting on the floor, only her tight little
pussy hid from the viewer's eyes...

How could she have been so stupid? So delectably stupid?

Sandra saw Cindy's sexy red BMW in the parking lot and parked next to
it. She lost no time, making her way to the 24th floor where Cindy worked.
She still couldn't believe Cindy had a personal office already, at the
tender age of 25, overlooking the city and the river. The management had
yet to see it fit to give the 36-year-old Sandra an office of her own...

Cindy was in her office - must have been there since 6 AM, nervously
waiting for Sandra to arrive.

As she handed over the envelope and Cindy sheepishly thanked, Sandra
noted the young woman was wearing a super-conservative business suit this
day - as if that made up for the debauchery captured in the pictures. She
wondered in delight what Cindy may look like wearing a spandex mini-skirt
and a tight little tube-top... the unofficial uniform of office tarts.

Sandra chose to wait as the younger woman opened the envelope. She
probably should have just put it away calmly, but her angst got the best of
her. She tore open the envelope, probably just wishing to make sure they
were all in there.

And she sifted through them with a growing terror.

"I got the originals on my computer of course" Sandra smiled - her smile
was more of an evil glee, surely unaccustomed on the face of the
easy-going, pliant Sandra.

Cindy was not holding pictures, not exactly; she was holding postcards.
Postcards made of the pictures. Address fields were empty, but they were
otherwise ready to be mailed. Sandra had gotten to work on PowerPoint
early in the morning...

"I was thinking your grandmother may enjoy the one with the leash"
Sandra remarked. "And your parents would probably like one of the full
nudes. Your old college friends would probably prefer something more racy,
I'm assuming they'd get a kick from the pictures with the dildo, no?"

Cindy seemed to be shaking but remained speechless.

"Of course, they may all eventually take a look at the whole set - I've
taken the liberty to register a website, cindycooperinbondage.net. Haven't
decided what sort of material to place there yet...". She smiled at the
terrified young woman again.

Cindy tried to say something but nothing really came out.

"Be at my place tonight. The address is on the company database."
Sandra explained, trying to sound and look as terrifying as she hoped for.
"9 PM. Sharp!"

As she marched out of Cindy's office, Sandra pondered whether the young
woman's current job would be appropriate for her anymore - for a lesbian
sex-slave, that is! No worries, Sandra would be looking for a new
assistant soon. A secretary, really, in a tight spandex mini. A secretary
who'd be doing all the boring, brainless crap Sandra didn't feel like doing
and would be punished dearly for her mistakes. The pay wasn't very good at
all but Cindy could sure save some money when she moved in with Sandra...

As Sandra marched away in evil glee, Cindy slumped in her chair. She
was trembling, her hand in a fist, holding the "postcards".

An e-mail popped up on her computer.

She swallowed, it was from John Anderson.

A short message, to the point:

"Hi there, honeypots... Hope you liked my parting gift! Sorry you
never did get into all that kinky stuff with me, except for that one time,
of course... And I sure didn't wanna press on after that, being a
gentleman and all. Let's see if your new Mistress will be so
accommodating, huh? - Cheers..."