She was Heather Saffron. The claims quietly went away, since apparently no asshole would ever hire a liberal lesbian like Miss Saffron. Arthur was an ...sshole, just a cynical asshole who knew how to play the corporate game. Her first day on the job was an interesting one to say the least, since most of us men at the top floor were afraid to talk to her. Towards the end of the day I built up the courage to strike a conversation. “Say, how about you and I go get a drink after this,” I slipped in. Ahhh . . ." With every slap, my ass got redder and my moans got louder. "Nnngggghhh . . . ahhhh . . . oooowww . . ." Again and again he made me flinch, staggering his slaps as if they were the rhythm to a new song. My breath coming in short, sharp bursts, I looked back over my shoulder and grinned like the nasty slut I was. Gawd, I could just hear it -- their next hit propelled to the top of the charts by a chorus of my sissy cries!A slap on my left cheek. "You're a nasty sissy, aren't you?". More

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