Back to the office on Monday morning; the usual bra, stockings and suspender belt with a skirt suit. As usual, Miss Chantelle seated at my desk, waiting for me to kneel and beg to greet her properly. Once I had finished French kissing her arsehole, I went for the coffee. As I was getting it, the young secretary, Janice, came in.

Nudging me, she said, "Get me one too, while you're there, Jo." Then, with a giggle, "You didn't get into trouble when you got home on Friday did you?"

I had automatically poured her coffee, not even noticing the familiarity or realising that it had been more of an instruction than a request, as I replied, laughing, "No, not at all, Janice, I had a late pass."

"It was nice to see you have a few drinks and stay," she said. "The shorter skirts you've started wearing suit you and I noticed that you were wearing stockings and suspenders." Nudging me again, she asked, "Do you always wear them? "

What is it with young ladies that they always get me so flustered? Blushing bright red, I replied that I did.

"No need to blush," she said, winking at me. "Thanks for the coffee." As she left, she tapped me on the arse, saying, "See you later."

Returning to my office, I told Miss Chantelle what had transpired. Laughing, she asked me what kind of a message I had given her by saying I had a late pass. Too late to do anything about it now, but she said she would sound Janice out about her thoughts.

At lunch time, I went to fetch sandwiches for myself and Miss Chantelle and, on returning, went to the kitchen to get our drinks, only to find Janice already there. She looked at the sandwiches, saying, "Oh, Chantelle was right, Jo. You really are a good girl! She is so lucky to have you as her boss." With that, she left, giving me a firm slap on the arse this time.

Telling Miss Chantelle about it, I asked her what she knew of Janice. Laughing, she said that Janice obviously had my measure and that she had joined from secretarial college and was now twenty-one. She also said that she would talk to her, bearing in mind my position at the company.

Later, once I was home, I told Miss Susan about it. Of course, she laughed as well, saying that she ought to meet Janice, adding, as an afterthought, Aaliyah too.

She told me that as exams were now over, she would be going to stay with her parents for a couple of weeks before she started work, but that we were going to the Student Union end of term fancy dress disco on Saturday night. Then I would be driving her to her parents on the following Friday evening and staying the weekend.

When I arrived at the office on Tuesday morning, I greeted Miss Chantelle in the usual way and she told me that she had spoken to Janice and that our secret was safe there. Unsurprisingly, when I went to make the coffee, Janice was already there. She looked up as I entered and, without thinking, I said, "Good morning, Miss Janice."

"Good morning, Jo," she said, "I do like that respectful greeting. Chantelle tells me that your Miss Susan would love to meet me. I'm looking forward to it! I would like a BLT sandwich at lunchtime." There it was; I was now really playing with fire. Not just my PA, but also one of the junior secretaries to obey.

It was also time for my monthly waxing visit to the beauty salon. There was far less hair to remove these days and it was no longer as painful. Once that was done, she had put my feet up on the table, so she could inspect my labia piercings. Explaining that they were now fully healed, she had to replace them for Miss Susan. I could feel something of a larger diameter being forced through one and then the other, followed by a click.This was repeated for the other four piercings and I wondered what it was. Before I left, Miss Christine handed me a box, saying it was for Miss Susan.

When I got home, I handed Miss Christine the box and she clapped her hands in glee, telling me to take my skirt off, so she could see. "That looks perfect," she said, "have you seen?"

I had to admit that I had not, so she had me sit, while she fetched a mirror so that I could see myself. There were three little silver padlocks holding my labia together and Miss Susan now had the keys. I was sent to hang my clothes up, told to put my bells on the longer chain and attach them to my clit ring and to return in five inch heels.

Once my clothes were away, I attached my bells and put my shoes on, the height of the heels forcing my hips forward and lifting my breasts up, returning to the living room with my hips swaying and the bells jingling. Miss Susan gave a broad smile as she watched, telling me to stand in front of her with my legs apart. "Yes, I do like those padlocks," she said, "now I really do own you and you'll need to take a key for Chantelle."

With that, she stood, me towering over her in my heels, slapped my arse hard and told me to follow her to the bedroom. Once there, she clamped my nipples, my labia and my clit; grinning widely at my grimaces, she proceeded to chain them all together, my nipples stretched downwards and my genitalia stretched upwards. She then directed me walking about the apartment with regular swats from her riding crop; painful would be an understatement, but I have to admit that it was extremely arousing!

When she had had enough fun with me, she removed the clamps, causing me to scream out at the pain as the blood rushed back. She undressed and sat on the bed, legs apart, her arousal very obvious and my cue to kneel and worship. Once I had finished, she had me stand, legs apart, still in my heels, and masturbate for her; working my clit and making me edge myself, before she finally relented, allowing me to cum.

It felt a bit strange going to the office with my labia padlocked together, but I would doubtless get used to it! After my usual greeting to Miss Chantelle, I presented her with the key from Miss Susan, to which she said she would need to see them once I had fetched the coffee.

Very shortly after I entered the kitchen and started to get the coffee, I heard a voice, "Fancy meeting you here, Jo! Good morning." This was followed by a hand running over my arse cheeks, feeling my suspender straps and then a hefty slap.

"Good morning, Miss Janice," I said, looking round at her. "Coffee, Miss?"

"That's a good girl," she said, smiling as I poured her coffee, "I fancy a chicken salad sandwich today." With that, she gave my arse a squeeze and left.

When I got back to my own office, Miss Chantelle had me hike my skirt and sit on the edge of my desk in front of her with my thighs apart, so she could get a good look at the padlocks. "They really do suit you, Joanna. Now to work!

On Thursday, I was a bit late leaving the office and when I got home, I had a real shock. There was no sign of Miss Susan and Miss Aaliyah was waiting for me, wearing her school uniform. "You're late; hurry up and get ready," she said. Obediently rushing to the bedroom and stripping, I returned and knelt in front of her. "What's your excuse?" she said. It did sound lame saying that I'd been late leaving the office. "Sue has gone out for the evening, leaving me in charge and I'm not happy. I was expecting you twenty minutes ago, which I think will be twenty strokes of the cane. Go and fetch it."

As I went to get it, I reflected that I, a forty-five-year-old partner in a law firm, was not only obeying a sixteen-year-old girl, but that I was about to be caned by her, and I was relishing the idea. She had obviously been coached by Miss Susan because the upright chair was pulled out, waiting for me. She said nothing as I bent and placed my hands on it, pushing my arse up and out and spreading my feet apart. Once I was in position, she examined the padlocks holding my labia together and spoke, "I do like these, I'll need to ask Sue if I can have a key. I expect punctuality from you. I don't like my time being wasted. You will count the strokes and thank me for each one."

"I'm so sorry, Miss Aaliyah," I replied. "It won't happen again." I felt the cane tap on my arse cheeks, followed by the swish and crack as it came down and the pain exploded. I tried not to shriek out as I gripped the chair tightly to remain in position. "One, thank-you, Miss." She took her time over my correction and by the time she had finished, tears were streaming down my face and I was sobbing.

After she had finished, I felt her fingers probing my cunt lips between the padlocks in my wetness. "You dirty white bitch; you enjoy being punished by a sixteen-year-old Black Queen, don't you?" When I agreed with her, she told me to kneel and took her own position, bending, hands on the chair, arse pushed back, saying, "Start worshipping, then."

Tears still on my face, I lifted her school skirt, lowered her knickers, parted her cheeks with my hands, breathing in the odour as my tongue found the puckered hole. I could feel her pushing back against my face, the tip of my tongue starting to probe at the opening. As she pushed back firmly, I felt my tongue slide in, tasting her essence and drawing a moan of pleasure from her. When she was satisfied with my ass worship, she had me lie on my back while she knelt over my face, her pussy over my mouth, her skirt covering my head. Not saying anything further, she proceeded to grind against my face and tongue until my face and mouth were flooded with her juices and she squealed as she came hard.

Informing me that she was going to watch TV until Miss Susan returned, she reversed her position over my face, so that my face was now covered by her arse. Clearly I was to continue tonguing her arsehole while she watched. By the time Miss Susan returned, my tongue felt like it was on fire! Giggling as she saw my position under Miss Aaliyah, she commented that it was good to see Miss Aaliyah making herself so at home. As she rose, Miss Aaliyah looked down at me, saying, "Hurry up girl, help me on with my knickers!"

Once I had done so, Miss Susan handed Miss Aaliyah a ten pound note, saying, "Thank-you so much for babysitting, Aaliyah. I'm glad I can rely on you to look after her for me."

Friday passed with what was becoming normality for me; making coffee and getting lunch for both Miss Chantelle and Miss Janice! Just the one drink in the pub and I was off home.

On Saturday morning Miss Susan told me that I had a hair appointment with Miss Christine for the fancy dress party, sending me out in a pleated micro mini skirt and tight crop top. By the time I left the salon, my hair was in pigtails, tied with green and white striped bows. It was not difficult to work out that I was going as a schoolgirl!

When the time came to get ready, I found that my only underwear was to be suspender belt with black fully-fashioned stockings. I had a white blouse with green and white striped school tie, an extremely short green gymslip and six-inch heels. My heart sank at those, as I find it extremely difficult to walk in heels over five inches. Miss Susan made my face up very plainly, adding a number of freckles! She was wearing jodhpurs, a riding jacket and riding boots and was carrying a crop and had used severe makeup.

As we were leaving she told me that I was not allowed to refuse anyone a dance if I was asked. I suddenly felt very vulnerable.

I was, by a long way, the oldest person there and, although I started off dancing with Miss Susan, it wasn't long before we became separated and I was dancing with a young man; something that made me feel very uncomfortable. When a slow dance came on, he pulled me in close, putting his arms around me and I saw Miss Susan wink at me. It was when he grasped my pigtails, pulling my head back so he could kiss me deeply and I felt his hand on my arse, pulling me in so that I could feel his hard cock pressing against my stomach, that I knew I had been set up.

My gymslip was so short that it was not long before I felt his hand on my bare arse underneath it, followed by a tug on my pigtails as he moved my head to whisper in my ear, "Who's a naughty girl then - no knickers! I think you'd better come with me."

As he led me out of the hall, Miss Susan winked at me again. I was at his mercy, but I was reassured that, with my cunt padlocked shut, he would not be able to fuck me. He clearly knew his way around the Students' Union building as he led me upstairs and into an office where he locked the door behind us. Taking a seat, he looked me up and down, smirking, "You know what happens to naughty schoolgirls who don't wear knickers?" Not waiting for an answer, he pointed to his lap, "Over my knee now, young lady."

It was with very mixed feelings that I obeyed him, bending over his knee. Here was I at nearly forty-six and never having been with a man, going over the knee of a young man, who could not yet have been twenty. He could certainly spank; I squealed in surprise at the first blow as it felt more like a paddle than a hand. I suppose it should have been no surprise that a young man's hand could come down harder than a girl's. He was slow and methodical, alternating cheeks and moving up and down, the worst being when he got my upper thighs. I was sobbing and the tears were streaming down my cheeks when he pushed me to my knees, unzipped his jeans and pushed them down, releasing his hard cock.

Pulling me by my pigtails, for the first time I felt and tasted a man's cock as he slid the head between my lips, saying, "As Sue has your cunt locked up, you'll just have to please me this way. Make sure you use your hands and mouth well, or you'll be over my knee again!"

I grasped the shaft firmly in my hand and started to stroke as I gradually eased it further into my mouth. I felt curiously pleased when he called me a good girl and said I could grip it tighter. I was surprised to find myself getting aroused as I sucked harder and felt my drool, mixed with his precum running down his cock and over my hand. I was actually enjoying this when he took my pigtails and forced my head right down on his cock. I couldn't even gag as it went deep into my throat and with a couple of thrusts, I felt it swell and start to jerk and pulse as he came hard, filling my mouth and throat as I tried to swallow it all. Despite my best efforts, I could feel it running down my chin and dripping onto my gymslip.

After wiping his cock clean on my pigtails, he pulled me to my feet, saying it was time to return to the disco. I didn't need a mirror to know that my makeup had to be a mess and I could see splashes of his cum on my gymslip; I knew very well that those would glow brightly under the UV lights in the disco. Fortunately, as he led me back in, it seemed that people were not terribly observant, as I attracted only few looks or comments. He handed me back to Miss Susan, thanking her for her generosity.

Miss Susan giggled when she saw me, telling me that I looked a mess and asking if I had enjoyed myself. I had to admit to her that I had surprised myself by getting turned on by it.