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A BDSM story -  It had been a long boring day taking an in-house class on a new computer application. The only high point of the day was that the class had three of my company's prettiest women in it. But I was glad the class was over; in fact it was a little past quitting time when I returned to my desk to check the mail. And there, out of the blue, sitting in my chair, was my online mistress!

"Mistress! What are you doing here?" And since she only had my computer screen name and a post office box, the thought just hit me: "And how did you find me?"

"Now Cindy," Mistress replied in a patronizing tone, referring to me in my femme name, "Don't worry your pretty little head about that. I do know a little more about computers than you give me credit for. Believe me, it just wasn't that difficult."

I thought frantically how she might have done this. She and I have exchanged files over the years, but always through the online service, never modem to modem. Somehow she had successfully invaded my computer system.

"Cindy, it really doesn't matter how I found you. I'm here, and you will amuse me. Let's go," said Mistress so definitively that there was never a question in my mind about obeying.

She took me firmly by the arm and walked me through my own company. For- tunately the place was empty. We got to the Ladies Room and she opened the door. And she directed me in.

"Take off your clothes, Cindy. All of them."

She said this so matter of factly. There was no need to threaten me with bodily harm or blackmail, or anything else. Mistress knows she holds the ultimate trump card with me. She could simply stop responding to my online notes and never talk to me again. That would be the ultimate punishment for disobeying her. She is a wonderful mistress. She knows me, my fantasies, my desires. And they are compatible with hers. There will never be another like her, at least not to me. And so I obey, without question.

A Ladies Room is not the same as a Men's Room. A Ladies Room has a couch. We could speculate why, but why bother? Mistress motioned me to lie down on my back on the couch, and she quickly spread my arms and legs and tied all four limbs to the corners with velcro. I was absolutely helpless.

Mistress left me alone and went into one of the private stalls. I was contemplating my position, wondering what in the world she was up to, when the bathroom door opened. In walked the three women from my class! Darn! Although it was after quitting time, obviously they had not made their last bathroom trip for the night.

"What have we here?" asked Nancy. Nancy is an executive secretary. Long wavy blonde hair. One of the prettiest women in the company, with just the right amount of eye makeup, blush and lipstick without being over made-up. She knows she is cute, and sometimes she flaunts it. Years ago, when she was in a flirty mood, I remember when she teased some poor guy who worked here when she asked him. "Do you think my breasts look perky today?" He almost popped right then.

Nancy looked at my naked, helpless form. She started to giggle. So did her three friends. Diane took the initiative. Diane is a clerk. She has dark, stringy hair, expressive brown eyes that she emphasizes with mascara, full lips that she shows off with lip gloss, and a great little body. Diane in fact is in great shape because she takes boxing lessons. Anyway, Diane lifted my face up slightly, looked deeply into my eyes, and asked me, "How did you get into this position?"

I struggled for a reply. What could I say? My fantasies with Mistress were supposed to be quite private and separate from my work life.

Then Mistress appeared. She had used the stall to change out of her clothes. She was now wearing a sexy black chemise. Low cut, revealing the tops of her breasts. And short, showing plenty of her gorgeous legs. Mistress always looks great!

"Cindy," Mistress said to me quietly but firmly. "Answer her question."

"Cindy????" said my three female co-workers, almost in unison. "You call him Cindy?" Karen asked. "And who are you?" she asked to Mistress.

Karen, another clerk, is the most underrated beauty in the company. Shoulder length blonde hair. Generally no makeup at all that I can see, except for a light rose lipstick. She dresses smartly without being flashy. Her skirts are always a tasteful length, but because she is on the tall side they seem to ride up delightfully when she sits, showing plenty of her lovely thighs. I had sat next to her all day in class, stealing a gaze at her thighs whenever I could.

Mistress replied to three women. "Your friend here," pointing to me, "calls herself Cindy. Because she likes to dress as a girl." And then looking me straight in the eye, Mistress said, "Now Cindy -- answer her question -- how DID you get in this position?"

There was no point in denying it any more. My cheeks burned in embarrassment as I admitted the truth to the women. "This is my Mistress. She ordered me in here. She told me to remove my clothes, and then she tied me."

Diane asked Mistress, "And what are you going to do with him? I mean, her."

Mistress turned the question back to the three women. "I haven't decided yet. What do you think I should do?"

Nancy, who had been bored for most of the class and had been making faces at me to relieve her boredom, had an idea. "You know, little Cindy here really was a pain in the butt all day. We were there to try and learn how to work this new system. Cindy was showing off and asking all those theoretical questions. I think we deserve a little fun with her too."

My generous Mistress was all too generous -- with me. "By all means."

Nancy absent-mindedly started rubbing my nipple between her two fingers as she thought about what to do with me. Her long perfectly manicured nails toyed with me. I moaned softly. Suddenly her touch felt ticklish and I started to laugh.

"Oh, Cindy," Nancy batted her eyelashes at me. "Are you ticklish?"

And with that, Nancy started tickling me. Then Diane. Then Karen. Mistress watched from a slight distance, with an amused look in her eye. The three girls' hands were all over me. Under my chin. My armpits. My belly. The insides of my thighs. The bottoms of my feet. I was tied by my four limbs and could only buck up and down. I was hysterical with laughter. Tears were rolling down my face. It was so erotic being helpless and being tickled by these three beautiful women. Finally, when I thought I couldn't take any more, Mistress told them to stop and let me catch my breath.

Diane took pity on me, opened her purse, and took out a tissue to wipe the tears from my face. I gazed into her beautiful eyes. Her eyebrows are slightly arched, and definitely combed somehow because all the hairs were facing the same direction -- up. She has positively the longest, thickest natural eyelashes I have ever seen. It was impossible not to admire those beautiful eyelashes.

Mistress asked Diane innocently, "I see Cindy admiring your eyelashes. They are pretty. How do you get them so long?"

Diane reached into her purse and pulled out a Lancome mascara. "This is by far the best mascara. And you'd be surprised how quickly it lengthens and thickens your lashes."

"Really?" asked Mistress so innocently. "Hmmmm."

There was the longest pause in the conversation. I know Mistress as well as she knows me. But she was waiting for one of the three women to pick up on this. Mistress thought that would be more fun for all of us.

Nancy, who probably likes me the least of the three of the women, caught the drift of this. "Gee, Diane, do you think you could try some out on Cindy?"

Diane smiled at this suggestion, as did Karen and Mistress. "Well, I don't usually like to share mascara. But I think I might make an exception." And with that Diane leaned very close to me, tilted my head up, told me to look up at the ceiling, and started slowly coating my eyelashes with her mascara. I could feel the weight of the liquid on my eyelashes -- this was an unnatural feeling, and in fact something Mistress had never done with me in the past. The other women teased me as Diane worked on me. "Oh, Cindy you have such pretty eyelashes."

While this was happening, Nancy looked at her own fingernails. "Boring," she reported. "Isn't there something for me to do?" She looked at her nails again. She looked at my feet. "Hmmm. I wonder how little Cindy would look with a little toenail polish?"

And with that she was into her purse. Nancy produced a bottle of red nail polish and some cotton balls, and he started at my feet, painting my toenails. I felt so helpless as they worked on opposite ends of me.

Karen, not to be outdone, opened up her purse. "Maybe a little blush wouldn't hurt. She took out her blusher compact, waited for Diane to make a little room for her near my face, and started merrily stroking on the pink powder with her soft brush on my cheeks.

When all three of them were done, they stepped back to observe their work. Of course, I couldn't see a thing, including my toes. But Mistress was very pleased. "What a lovely job! Cindy looks so pretty," she exclaimed with just a hint of teasing sarcasm in her voice.

They waited for the mascara and the nail polish to dry. When they were sure everything was dried, Karen asked, "Shall we tickle pretty Cindy some more?"

Karen still had her blusher brush in her hand. She started running it over my nipples. It made the most delightful tickling sensation, and I squirmed. She dipped it in the pink powder and gently worked on both my nipples. "Ooh, look how cute and pink they're getting," she squealed.

Nancy and Diane decided to resume tickling me with their fingers and nails. I think I must have been more sensitive this time than before, and I was quickly howling with laughter. They were relentless, tickling my helpless tied body with no mercy for my pleas for them to stop. I was hysterical with laughter. Tears again rolled from my face. Diane explained that her mascara was waterproof and would not run -- a small comfort for me.

They stroked my thighs, getting so close to my cock, but refusing to touch it. I bucked furiously, trying to get some relief, but none was forthcoming. Finally they took pity on me and stopped.

They let me calm down for awhile. Then Mistress got onto the couch and sat on my chest. She wiggled around on me, looking for a comfortable posistion, laid down on me, wiggled some more. At one point her breasts were inches from my face, but she would not let me touch them with my lips. She continued moving around on top of me, with her silky chemise sensuously rubbing all up and down my body. This was extremely sensuous, but was not going to get me off. Mistress had other ideas, however, and rubbed herself up and down all over me, until she moaned in an orgasm. Then she got off of me and the couch.

While all this was happening the three women looked on with some interest, but also some boredom. Nancy reached into her purse to apply her red lipstick. Then with an evil grin she reached for my face and started stroking it on me. Her tongue sneaked out the tiniest bit as she seriously went about applying the lipstick to my lips in short, firm strokes.

She stepped back to admire her work. The women all teased me about how cute I looked with long mascaraed eyelashes, blush on my cheeks and nipples, and lipstick.

Karen then reached into her purse. "Hmm, I wonder how she'd look in my shade?" She pulled out a tissue, wiped Nancy's shade off of me, and applied her shade instead. This is more of a rose than a red, she explained, as she carefully worked on my lips. She was just about to screw the tube back down and put it away, when she decided on one more touch. She boldly applied her lipstick to my nipples. "Ummm, don't they look so rosy and delicious?" she asked with a smile. I felt so ridiculous.

Everyone considered this shade on my lips and nipples for a few moments. Then Diane decided it was her turn. She reached into her purse and pulled out her lipstick. She unscrewed it, and it was a dark, red-brown. She waved it dangerously close to me and asked, "Cindy, you ARE going to let me do you too, aren't you?" She really didn't expect an answer, but wiped off Karen's shade with a tissue and boldly applied her lipstick to my mouth. Her long lashes were hypnotic as she slowly stroked the color on me.

Then, as a final humiliating touch, she grabbed my erect penis and started painting the tip in lipstick too. When it was full of the red color to her satisfaction, she then reached down, and used my penis to apply the color to her own lips. My body had become reduced to a mere lipstick to the women. I found this so humiliating, but erotic beyond belief too.

When Diane was finished freshening her lipstick, she gave my penis a few quick strokes with her hand. That's all it took. The events of the afternoon had me so overwhelmed, that I came instantly.