Spellbound, Craig brought the panties to his face. His still semi-erect penis surged into life as the sweet smell of pussy filled his nostrils. He inhaled deeply, and rubbed the panties over his face, feeling the cool silk that moments before had caressed the assistant's smooth skin, had pressed against her trim bush, stretched taut over her ass, pulled tight against her juicy cunt. He touched the tip of his tongue to the crotch, savoring the taste. Quickly he undid his pants, and his erection burst free as he slid his shorts down. He closed his eyes and stroked his cock, imagining the assistant bent over the desk right here beside him as she had been just moments ago. He held the panties up to his nose to breathe in her scent as he imagined that he was fucking her. Yes, fucking that stuck-up bitch, treating her to a good dose of what she deserved, filling her sweet precious pussy that she no doubt thought was too good for the likes of him. She could never imagine he would know what she kept so proudly hidden in her designer underwear, yet here now he had intimate connection with her most precious asset. With the panties pressed to his face he knew exactly how she smelt when she was ready for sex, and the smell made him ready too. He was ready to respond to that animal scent, and if she were here now he would show her how ready he was, his engorged penis throbbing in his fist, purple head bulging with power. He would give it to her, all right, hearing her beg for it the way she had begged the boss.

Craig thrust his hips, jerking his cock, imagining what he would do to her, that bitch, that stuck up bitch, that hot fucking bitch. He would show her her place, yes he would, using her roughly in the way that his boss had, loving every moment, knowing that was what she wanted, what she needed.

He needed it too. His eyes were shut tight as the blood pounded in his head, his senses flooded with the scent of her panties, hand stroking faster and faster. God, oh, God, oh God... he moaned and sniffed greedily, her juices flooding his senses.

"Madre de Dios!"

He gasped and froze, cock in hand, pants around his ankles and the delicate panties draped over his face. He came back to reality and stared dizzily.

In the doorway stood a young Latina holding a plastic pail. Craig snatched the panties away as she stood open-mouthed, and tried to step forward but stumbled, and made a useless attempt to cover himself. She gave a little scream and dropped the pail, clattering to the floor as she fled. He groped to pull up his pants, and heard hysterical chatter in Spanish from further down the corridor as he blundered after her in an effort to explain.

He reached his office, tucking in his shirt and breathing hard. The cleaning woman stood with two others, one much older, the other much fatter, both of whom she cowered behind as he burst in.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you! I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry you were afraid. I'm sorry."

The fat girl held a vacuum nozzle brandished like a weapon in his direction.

"Really, I didn't mean to give you a shock like that, it's all right, I work here. This is my desk, see here, my photo ID. I was just--I was just--"

"We know what you were doing, senor." The older one fixed him with a stern gaze, and whispered something in Spanish that caused the fat one to burst into laughter. Even the young girl allowed herself a smile. Craig felt himself redden.

"You like to see senoritas in their little panties, no?"

Oh, God. He had left the browser window open on his computer screen, with the mature woman and her black underwear. The three of them stood behind his desk looking at it with some amusement.

"Mmm, she has pretty panties. You like pretty panties, no?"

He was rooted with fear, shame, embarrassment.

"You think hers are so pretty as mine?"

That shocked him. He felt as if he were in a dream, or a nightmare. His head throbbed, he felt sick and dizzy, and unaccountably weak. As he tried to comprehend her words the woman raised up her coverall, showing her legs to the top of her thighs. She seemed to be naked under it, until she suddenly exposed her underwear. A pair of voluminous white panties. He reeled at the shock of it, unable to speak, an unbearable heat rising in him. The two younger girls shrieked with laughter. The woman stepped forward slowly, hem of her coverall held up to her waist, rolling her hips provocatively to squeals of delight from the others.

"You like only to look or you like sometimes to touch?"

The woman advanced, and he swallowed hard, unable to move. The younger one said something under her breath and they all laughed again.

"You like to touch your little pee-pee, no? Ah, but what do you have there, little one?" The woman saw the panties hanging from his pocket and roughly snatched them out. He now felt completely paralyzed. "Yours?" She looked coyly at him and strung them out between her fingers, bringing them to her nose, theatrically. The girls collapsed in peals of laughter. "Mmm, such strange perfume. No, no, I think these are not yours at all."

His head was giddy, his body felt weak. "No, they--they... I found them," he stammered, lamely. "I found them, and--"

"You found them, and they make you feel sexy. You find they turn you on." She spoke huskily, no longer acting. "They make your little pee-pee grow hard."

The fat girl made a comment in Spanish and the older woman raised an eyebrow, glancing to his crotch. "Yes, you are hard there. Let us see. Oh, you are shy, but you must let us see what you keep here in your pants. Sisters, come here and help the shy senor take off his pants and show us."

This couldn't be happening. He should say something, they had no right to do this. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he uttered a sound, the woman brought the panties to his face and roughly stuffed them in his mouth. Shocked, he reeled backwards and bumped into a chair as the woman grasped his pants at the front and pulled down the zip. Her experienced hand reached in and grabbed hold of his cock.

"I don't think your boss knows what you do here on your own, does he, senor. Maybe we should tell him about this picture on your computer. Maybe we should show him these panties you found. Perhaps he knows to who they belong. Would you like us to tell?" The blood drained from Craig's face. He shook his head dumbly.

The woman held a firm grip on his penis. Her other hand undid the top button on his pants. The fat girl came around behind him and slid the pants down, tugging his shorts to his knees as she did so. He tried to protest but made only muffled sounds as the older woman pressed her fingers to his lips, the silk panties folded inside. She massaged his cock roughly. He groaned. "Hush, little one, you make so much noise."

He doubled in spasm as she dug a fingernail into his cock, then grabbed his balls tight with her other hand. The blood pounded in his head, he was unable to resist, completely at her mercy, under their control.

The fat girl knelt at his feet, yanking off his shoes and tugging his pants from his ankles. The younger one joined the humiliation, loosening his tie before nimbly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it over his shoulders. His arms felt like lead as she pulled the sleeves down, for a moment imprisoning his arms behind his back.

The older woman ran her hand appreciatively over his near hairless chest, and traced the muscles down to his stomach as she dug her nails in. He grunted involuntarily as she gave a hard pull on his stiff cock, making him stumble just as the fat girl lifted one leg from his trousers. He fell forward, cock slipping from the woman's hand, and he fell hard, rolling onto the carpet.

He struggled for a moment, his shirt tangled behind his back, pants rolled over his feet. As the fat girl tugged again at his pants, the three women doubled with laughter. He felt sudden anger at the unjust humiliation. He tried to sit up, wrestling his arms about and panting through the silken gag.

Swiftly, the fat girl pushed him back and sat heavily on his chest, winding him. He still had the panties in his mouth and panicked a little, his breath in short tight snorts through his nose. The young girl quickly leaned down and pulled out the panties. He looked in her eyes and gasped, "Thank you."

She smiled shyly. The older woman looked down. "There is something you can do more than say thank you." She reached under her blue nylon coverall and pulled down her panties.

White, plain nylon, more than a little dirty he noticed with fascination despite his distressed state. She leaned over him and brought the panties to his face.

"Mine are not so pretty, but perhaps they attract you in a different way," she said huskily as she slipped them over his mouth and nose.

He had no power to resist as the panties were pulled tight like a mask, the woman's hands stroking his head through the nylon, pulling the waistband up under his throat, the dirty cotton crotch panel tight across his nose.

The smell was incredible: deep, musky, spicy. This was not the delicate scent of sexual excitement like the last pair of panties, daintily tainted on intimate contact, but the rich earthy smell of a working woman, permeating the very fabric. These were the daily secretions of sweat and urine, without notion of modesty. The pungent aroma overwhelmed him as the woman slid the panties up and down across his nose, rubbing the filthy crotch hard against his open nostrils. He breathed in again and again, gasping at the power of it.

"There, little one, smell what a real woman is like. You do not get such as this from a picture. Now, see where this smell comes from, and know what a real woman can be."

The woman removed the panties from his face, then pushed the fat girl back a little. He watched with alarm as she lifted her coverall and stepped over to straddle his shoulders, lowering herself onto his face. Suddenly he was engulfed in her thick fleshy thighs.

Her dark hairy mound pressed against his nose and mouth, his nostrils filled with the musky scent direct from her cunt as her wet lips squelched over his mouth. The woman gripped his hair at the temples, forcing him up to meet her as she thrust against him. She was so wet, her thick slippery juices running down his chin, which he licked as he fought for air between urgent thrusts. "Use your tongue here, little puppy," she ordered, and the other girls giggled and squealed encouragement. The fat one had turned about to face his cock, rigid beyond all control. As he tentatively probed with his tongue at the fleshy cunt over his face in response to the command, he felt a hand seize his cock and pull back the skin till it ached.

Then the grip was released, and replaced by a gentler hand. A warm wet mouth slid over the head, shocking him with the unexpected sensation. He wondered for a moment how the fat girl had bent down, then realized it must be the young girl, now eager to join the action. He heard the fat girl murmuring encouragement, digging her nails into his stomach and whispering urgent words in Spanish that he could not understand.

The older woman muttered in Spanish too, seemingly lost in her own world as she rocked back and forth on his face, guiding him firmly to the spot where she wanted attention from his now eager tongue. He probed deep inside, juices streaming out. He had never tasted anything quite like this; greasy and musky, syrupy thick, utterly intoxicating. He lapped furiously, giving himself over to the situation about which he could do nothing but obey animal instincts.

With wild abandon he felt waves of pleasure build in his body, his breathing constricted by the weight of the fat girl on his chest, and the woman jiggling frantically across his face, forcing his breathing in gasps. His hips rolled to meet the mouth sliding smoothly up and down his erect shaft, his arms still pinned uncomfortably under his body and feet wrapped in rolled pants. Unable to move of his own volition, his senses were completely given over to the demands of the three eager women cruelly using his body.


All at once the woman on his shoulders shuddered and cried out. Fingers clenched at his hair as she trembled and gasped. She ground her hot swollen lips against him, rubbing her hardened clit up to his nose, her thighs tightened so that he could hear nothing beyond the blood racing in his ears. It was too much for him, he felt himself come and gave a quick jerk of his hips to alert the girl sucking his cock. He felt cold air as she withdrew, then his cock was wrapped in something soft and smooth. The silk panties she took from his mouth, he judged, and he came at the thought.

Hot streams of semen pumped through his shaft, firing out directly into the material pulled tight over the head and wrapped around the shaft. The girls squealed in delight at the thick sticky mess bubbling through. He came in spurts over and over, groaning in delirium as he shot every drop. The woman rolled off his face and turned to see the result.

"Hola! See how messy is el bebe." She lifted the panties from his now softening cock and dangled them from a finger. She clicked her tongue and knelt over him. "The baby must learn to clean up his own mess."

His eyes widened as he realized what she was about to do. Still weak from the force of his orgasm, with arms numb behind his back, and the fat girl still weighing heavy on his chest, he could not move as the woman stuffed the panties back in his mouth. He tasted his own cum, thick and salty.

The woman pushed the fat girl off him and reached to roll him over. His arms were still hopelessly tangled in his shirt, but then he felt her tug his elbows together. One of the other girls had found a roll of tape, that screeched as she wound it round and round his arms, elbow to wrist behind his back. Alarmed, he began to struggle, trying to spit out the gag. Deftly, the girl wound tape around his mouth, sealing the panties inside, and continued to wrap round his head and over his eyes. His face was nearly covered.

At last his pants were pulled from his ankles, and he felt a sudden chill, naked as he was. His mind still reeled from the incredible assault, and he felt his humiliation could not be any worse. Yet then he heard the woman remark, "He looks like a baby, sisters, but is something not missing?"

"Si," laughed the fat girl. "He should be wearing his diaper."

To his horror, he now felt his ankles pulled up as something was slipped over. Not his pants, nor his shorts as he might have hoped, but the woman's own roomy panties, retrieved from the floor. The girls pulled them up to his thighs as he sat there helpless. Then he was rolled over again onto his knees, and the panties were pulled over his hips. The elastic snapped around his waist. A hand smoothed the material across his buttocks, and the girls seemed to murmur their approval. Despite himself he felt an erotic charge. Confined in its smooth nylon prison his penis began to stir once again.

"He is naughty, this one!" exclaimed the woman. She slapped him hard on the ass, a sharp stinging pain. He groaned and panted through the mask and the gag, unable even to see let alone argue. "We must leave him alone like a little baby to think of how naughty he has been."

With a final flourish, the girls wrapped the rest of the tape round and round his ankles and knees, and attached the loose end to the air conditioning unit on the wall beside his desk. Then they left him alone, bound and nearly naked on the floor.

Craig lay helpless as he listened to the women go about their business along the corridor, chattering and laughing, the whine of their vacuum cleaner growing faint as they moved from office to office along the hall. At first he struggled to free himself, yet succeeded only in tightening the tape bonds wound painfully at his ankles and wrists - stretched taut they would never snap. He could barely move his hands, and found no sharp edge to begin to cut through. He rubbed hopefully against the air conditioner but it was no use. Exhausted, he slumped to the floor. He could not see, could not call out, could hardly even move. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, so that he could not say how long he had lain there, until he realized with alarm that all had gone quiet.

He tried to raise himself up, but was held fast against the air conditioning unit. He tugged uselessly, and sagged back to the floor where he tried to collect his thoughts. Had they gone? Surely the women would not leave him there. Although he was next to naked the room was not cold, and indeed the air conditioner functioned to keep the temperature constant, but how could they know he might not suffer from some illness or infirmity that a night on the floor would only exacerbate? He felt a fury of indignation. What had he done to deserve such disrespect!

As minutes passed to what seemed like hours - or could even have been - he began to resign himself to the fact that they had indeed deserted him, and anger turned to despair. It must surely be dark by now, though he couldn't see through the thick blindfold of tape. The sickening possibility hit that he might have to remain there on the floor of his office until morning. He lived alone, no-one would miss him, and the first person to find him would be the first into the office.

He considered the unhappy possibilities. It might be Dan, the office junior, or Celia the personnel manager. It might even be Dorothy the mousey old maid as they called her. He fervently hoped it were not; the shock of seeing him like this might bring on a heart attack. Fuck it. He couldn't think much could be worse about his miserable situation. It had to be Dan, please let it be Dan, he was not much younger than Craig, and could surely understand something of how this came about. Together they could somehow laugh it off. He might convince Celia it was some kind of rough-house prank cooked up by friends. She would be suspicious but she didn't seem to like him much anyway, so her opinion could hardly be lower. Dorothy probably wouldn't understand what the heck was going on. Those three were usually the only ones there before Craig made it in to the office, though occasionally the boss was there early.

Oh, God, not the boss. He would know instantly the whole situation when he found the silk panties still stuffed in Craig's mouth. That could never be laughed off or explained away.

Craig struggled furiously to release the bonds, and shook his head from side to side, desperate at least to clear his tape blindfold or slip down the gag so he could spit out the panties. He really felt he could gag on them, still tangy from his own semen. It was no use, he just made the bonds more uncomfortable. He was soon reduced to tears of frustration, and fell exhausted once more.

He lay there on the prickly carpet, feeling his heart pound. Why had they done this to him, those women, why, why? Damn it, he would have their jobs.

But who was he kidding, a few pictures on the Internet were chickenfeed to this. Craig Alexander Brunswick would become legendary across the entire company as the man who got fired for being found tied up in the office wearing women's underwear. He might even make the evening news.

He held his breath suddenly as he heard a noise outside.

Thank God. That must be one of the cleaning woman come back to release him. If so they seemed in no hurry, he heard movement in one of the rooms down the corridor. Here was only the hum of his computer, the faint buzz of florescent light and the whisper of the air conditioner unit to which he was still firmly attached. Whoever it was, they did not seem about to come to his rescue, so it was not likely to be the cleaners after all. Should he try to call out? He wondered who it could be, moving about in the office down there. Perhaps it was morning already.

His heart pounded, trying to think what to do. Who arrived first at the office, Dorothy, Celia, or Dan? Or perhaps someone else. He thought he knew the sound of the footsteps. Footsteps coming closer, stopping at his door. He was about to find out.