Drenched

by Janine Ashbless

  “I had no idea you were a smoker,” Lydia Knight said.

  Addison tried to suck on the cigarette as though she still remembered how to do it. “Yes,” she said, struggling not to cough out the acrid taste. “I’m a smoker. We’re a dying breed.”

  Lydia shook her head and sighed. “May I offer you a word of advice?”

  “I guess.”

  “You want to be on the radio, don’t you?”

  “I guess.”

  Lydia slapped her across the face. The blow stung. It was so harsh and unexpected Addison dropped the cigarette from her fingers.

  “You either want it or you don’t,” Lydia snapped. “Which is it?”

  “I want it,” said Addison, rubbing her jaw. “I want it.”

  “Then act like you want it,” Lydia growled. “You feel humiliated? Good. Embrace the feeling. Learn to live with it. Maybe it’s not the most pleasant feeling in the world but I’d bet, if you’re anything like the other bitches in this place, your panties are wetter now than when Stern squirted water on them.”

  Addison blushed.

  She was aware that the others who loitered about the smoking area could hear what Lydia was saying. She was also liberated by the idea that it didn’t matter who overheard. She was suffering a humiliation that most of them had endured. The knowledge was somehow empowering.

  “You think I should just let him humiliate me?”

  “No. I’ve just told you what I think. I think you should take everything you can from Stern. Take the chance to do the radio show. Take the pleasure of the humiliation. Take every piece of satisfaction that’s being offered to you.”

  “Is that what you do?”

  Lydia raised her bottle of mineral water in a mock salute and grinned. “That’s what I do every day.”

  Addison returned to the reception desk with her shoulders back. She leant close to Tony and whispered in his ear.

  “I’ve got to go to the bathroom and take off my wet underwear. They’ve been soaked through all afternoon. You don’t mind covering for five minutes whilst I’m gone, do you?”

  She wasn’t watching his face for a response.

  Instead, she watched his lap as the shape of an erection sprang forward against the front of his pants. His jaw sagged and his eyes studied her with the haunted expression of a man pained by agonized longing.

  She hurried through to the bathroom and found an empty cubicle. Peeling the soaked panties away from her sex, savoring the delicious rush of cool air that touched her, Addison stood up with her shoulders against the closed door and placed one foot on the rim of the toilet seat.

  Slowly, but with painstaking deliberation, she began to touch herself.

  She stroked fingers up her thigh and reached beneath the hem of her short skirt. Her heartbeat raced as she realized she was already close to the brink of a heady, powerful orgasm.

  As soon as her fingers touched the bare flesh of her sticky sex, her legs nearly buckled and she sagged against the door. When she stroked the tip of one nail against the throbbing pulse of her clitoris, the sensation was almost too much to bear. Addison thrust a hand into her mouth to quell the scream of euphoria that needed to tear from her lungs.

  She stiffened her back against the toilet door. She tensed every muscle in her body as though fighting the impending orgasm.

  Obviously, she wanted the satisfaction. If she was being honest, she craved the release of that satisfaction. But, a part of her felt as though it was indecorous and unseemly to be coaxing herself to orgasm in the staff toilets.

  Her slick finger slid deep into her wetness.

  The position meant straining her wrist at an awkward angle but Addison was happy to do that much. The awkward angle meant the ball of her thumb was pressed against the throbbing bead of her clitoris. She didn’t know whether it was that additional pressure, the excitement of the moment, or some other stimulus.

  But she did know that caress was all it took.

  As the orgasm seared through her frame, Addison remembered Lydia’s words. She should be taking advantage of everything Stern had to offer: whether it was a chance to work on a radio show, the unexpected humiliation of walking around with a drenched crotch, or even the opportunity to rub out a personal happy moment in the staff lavatories.

  She clenched her throat tight to stop her cries of ecstasy from escaping the bathroom cubicle. Her body contorted in paroxysms of pure and unadulterated pleasure. She squeezed harder against the nub of her pulsing clitoris. The thrill of a second orgasm washed across the pleasure of the first.

  Addison snatched her hand away from herself and allowed the hem of her skirt to fall back, covering her modesty. The pleasure had been intense and powerful and, honestly, she could feel the needy wave of another orgasm rising quickly. But she didn’t dare tease out any more satisfaction, for fear of leaving herself too drained to continue with the day.

  Instead, taking her sodden panties from the floor, she walked back to the reception desk and stood beside Tony. She wondered if he would detect the scent of her arousal. She didn’t doubt the trickles of wetness that now trailed down her inner thighs heralded her excitement. When he nervously looked up at her she noticed his pants still bulged from the weight of his erection.

  “I took my panties off,” she whispered.

  She had the sodden cotton in her hand. She pushed the wadded fabric under his nose as she tossed the skimpy cloth into the wastebasket by his side. And she knew he would spend the remainder of the day waiting for an opportunity to surreptitiously retrieve them from there.

  It would prove to be a long afternoon for Tony, she thought.

  But she also knew the diversion of watching him would be more entertaining than his mindless bottle-counting games. She suspected it would be almost as entertaining as the humiliation she was learning to savor.

  It was clear to Addison that Tony was desperate to find the right moment to liberate her drying intimates from the waste bin. She guessed that a further part of him was desperate to find an excuse to get down on his knees and inadvertently peak up her skirt. As the day drew on, with no signs of his erection abating, and with his constant furtive glances never failing to make her smirk, Addison decided he had earned a reward.

  She dropped a pen on the floor between them.

  Tony studied it for a moment. His expression made her think of a hungry dog contemplating a bone. She was surprised that he didn’t start to drool with a Pavlovian response.

  Addison remained sitting in her chair as she studied him expectantly.

  Eventually, when he made no move to pick it up, she turned in her seat so she was facing him and spread her legs slightly apart.

  His concealed erection hadn’t faltered throughout the day. A part of her pitied him for the torment he had clearly been suffering. And a part of her envied him the rich humiliation he was clearly enjoying at her expense.

  “Pick it up,” she told him.

  There was no need for a please or a thank you. If Stern chose to speak to her in that way, Addison knew she would have been close to orgasm from the thrill. Dominating Tony in the fashion she hoped Stern would dominate her, Addison realized she was doing as Lydia had suggested by taking every scrap of pleasure there was to be had at the station.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Get down on your knees, between my legs, and pick up the pen I dropped.”

  To illustrate the subtext of her words, Addison traced a finger against her thigh and teased the hem of her skirt higher. She watched as Tony’s eyebrows inched upwards. She wondered how much of her he would be able to see from his vantage point in the chair beside her.

  However much it was, it obviously wasn’t enough for him.

  He fell to the floor and scrabbled blindly to pick up the pen.

  His gaze never shifted from the apex of her legs. His eyes were
wide. He licked his lips. She was momentarily stung by the satisfying sweet thrill of exploiting his unreciprocated desire.

  When he passed her the pen, Addison pushed down the hem of her skirt.

  She stood up and said, “I’ve got to go and see Stern now. Goodnight, Tony.”

  She didn’t bother listening for his reply. She was sure that all she could hear was a frustrated sob that was too soft to be heard over the clatter of her heels on the stairs up to Stern’s office.

  The receptionist handed her a bottle of clear mineral water before opening the office door for her. Addison took it and then paused. “There’s no light on in here.”

  “I’m saving on my electricity bills,” Stern called from within the darkness of his office. “Now get in here and close the door.”

  She did as she was told.

  She could feel the swelling sense of arousal that now flooded through her. The air in the office was almost too thick to drink into her lungs.

  “You came back,” Stern observed.

  “You told me to come back at six if I wanted to do the radio show with Zoe.”

  “I’d wanted to enjoy more of your humiliation today.” She could see his silhouette in the darkness. “I’ve been watching you down on the reception desk. I’d hoped the embarrassment of having wet your panties would have proved more uncomfortable for you. You seemed to tolerate it too well.”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps I need a different form of humiliation,” she challenged.

  “This is what I thought,” Stern agreed. “Get down on your knees and crawl over to the window.”

  She did as he commanded. When she got there she could see that his erection was exposed. The hardness was everything she had hoped it would be. She didn’t bother waiting for his instruction to suck. Her lips were already around him and she was moving her mouth up and down his length, lapping at him with her tongue and relishing the silky salted taste of his pre-cum as it slipped from his shaft.

  “I figured you’d need to be humiliated in different ways.” Stern spoke as though he wasn’t distracted by the pleasure of the oral attention she gave him. His hardness remained a constant in her mouth. She could feel the sullen pulse of him as he swelled and fattened against her tongue.

  “The wet crotch works as a humiliation on some staff, but not all.”

  She nodded. Despite the even tone of his voice, the anxious strain of his member told Addison that she had nearly sucked the climax from him; and she didn’t want to stop until his warm seed was at the back of her throat.

  “But I thought you needed a different kind of public shaming,” Stern told her. “That’s why I wanted you to suck my cock here in front of the window.” As he spoke, he flicked a light switch.

  In that moment, as the light flooded over her, Addison understood.

  Her actions could now be seen clearly from the lobby.

  During the day, when daylight flooded the lobby, the windowed wall of his office looked like one way glass. But during the evening, when the lights in the lobby were dimmed and the lights in Stern’s office burned bright, the windowed wall was as opaque as a goldfish bowl.

  With her mouth still wrapped around his length, Addison glanced down into the lobby.

  Tony was staring up at her from the reception desk. Beside him Lydia was raising a glass of mineral water in a good-natured salute. The embarrassment of being caught in such an act was so severe that Addison could feel the rush of an orgasm yearning to accelerate through her body.

  Stern took the bottle of mineral water from Addison’s fingers.

  She had forgotten she was still holding the thing.

  He slowly unscrewed the cap without moving his shaft from her mouth. He bent over her, and the motion served to push his length even more deeply into her, forcing her to take more of him into her mouth. He extended a long and sinewy arm to nimbly take the hem of her skirt between two fingers.

  “Arch your back. Lift your backside,” he stated simply.

  She complied.

  Smoothly, he slid the hem of her skirt up over the swell of her ass so that her bare backside and more were displayed to the room … and the window. He tipped the bottle and cool water cascaded onto her overheated flesh. The shock of it made her gasp and twitch as water spilled over the hills of her ass, ran down the crevice between her cheeks, and soaked her rumpled skirt in the small of her back. Stern kept pouring and, as cold water drenched the heat of her sex and eddied away between her thighs, Addison exploded.

  She sucked more vigorously, and realized she was swallowing the taste of his importunate cum. More importantly, she was basking in the thrill of her own, water-fueled orgasm. She doubted her humiliation could have been more exciting or more severe.

  “I’ll need to begin prepping for my show quite soon, Mr. Stern.”

  Addison recognized Zoe’s voice. She hadn’t noticed the woman sitting at the side of Stern’s office until she spoke. Now, with mineral water dripping from the lips of her sex, and Stern’s cum still coating her tongue, Addison realized she presented a supremely humiliated sight for the woman to enjoy.

  “You’re quite right,” Stern said, tucking his spent length back into his pants. “And take Addison down to the studio with you. She’ll be co-hosting the show with you tonight.”

  Zoe stood up and strode to the door.

  “When you’ve finished sucking cock and creaming yourself,” Zoe said wearily, “join me in studio five.” She scowled at Stern and said, “Send her down when she’s ready.”

  Stern nodded and they both watched as Zoe flounced out of the office.

  “Am I really getting a shot at working as a presenter?”

  “For tonight.”

  When he saw her frown he added, “You’ll get another shot tomorrow. If you excel in the challenges that I throw at you.”

  To her frustration, the inner muscles of her sex chose that moment to clench, reminding her that she was taking as much pleasure from receiving the humiliation as Stern was from giving it. Moving on unsteady legs, she started toward the door and then stopped.

  “What am I expected to do on the radio show?”

  He reached to his desk and retrieved a sheet of paper. Placing a kindly arm around her shoulder he walked with her down to studio five. The power in his muscular arms was a disquieting reminder of his desirable physique. The scents of citrus fruits and sandalwood that made up his cologne stirred another rush of need. He handed her the sheet of paper, and another clear bottle of mineral water and said, “Read that in your sexiest voice.”

  Then he sat outside the soundproof studio whilst Addison tried to make her sticky, wet backside comfortable on one of the studio’s leather chairs.

  “Eau Naturelle,” Addison read. She put her lips closer to the microphone and lowered her voice to a breathy pout. “Eau Naturelle is the mineral water for when you need absolute satisfaction.”

  She took a swallow from the bottle and decided that was probably truer than most of the show’s listeners would ever understand. Stern smiled and nodded and walked away leaving Addison alone in the studio with Zoe.

  The brunette shook her head and regarded Addison with a sneer of distaste. She played a track, D.A.F. singing Sex Unter Wasser, and then muted the microphones so their conversation was private.

  “Let me give you a word of advice,” Zoe growled.

  Addison considered her, not sure where this was going. Tony had described Zoe as a ball-breaker and Addison doubted the woman wanted to share her show with a newcomer. She guessed Zoe was going to tell her not to get comfortable in the co-host’s chair and she steeled herself for the showdown.

  Zoe took the clear bottle from Addison’s hand.

  She replaced it with a green bottle of mineral water.

  “The green bottles are sparkling water. The clear bottles are still water and still water doesn
’t sparkle,” Zoe explained. “If I was going to give you a word of advice, I’d say go with the sparkling. The next time Stern drenches your pussy, the sparkling bubbles add an extra thrill.”

  A Divine Solution

  ♦♦♦♦

  By Vina Green

  Sarah lived in the biggest house on the highest hill. It had a red roof, and white gables, and was the only place in town that had remained relatively unaffected by the drought. No matter what the weather, the red house squatted on the hill, untouched.

  Her husband, Tom, was the pastor. He was paid by the church and, as such, had no crops to worry about, nor cattle with nothing to eat and nowhere to graze.

  She watched him now, through the big bay windows that looked out onto the vegetable patch where he had grown carrots, corn and runner beans, and beyond that the tall pines that stood erect in the distance, still solid and unmoving even after all that wind. Now it was a field of cracked earth. Nothing would grow until the rain came.

  It was hot and humid, but he kept his shirt on, and all of the buttons fastened right up to the collar. Tom was a man of the cloth and not a laborer, but he believed that hard, physical work was a pathway to God. So he spent many hours outside, chopping wood or clearing stones from their large garden; and consequently his thick limbs strained against the seams of his shirt.

  Sarah’s thighs clenched involuntarily, and she turned away from the window.

  They had only been married a year, but rarely made love. When they did, she always felt as though he was keeping a part of himself tethered back. Like a dog that bounds from it’s cage, teeth snapping, only to be pulled back at the last moment by the taut strength of its leash.

  She wished that he would let go, as he had only once, on their wedding night, even though everyone had hinted to her that few couples did ‘it’ on their wedding night.