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(Her Secret Fantasy, continued by Anon...)

You sit there on the floor trying to catch your breath, your mind spinning with recent events. You look over at Rachel as you grope your way to a chair, confused as to why she would call John. You catch her eye and she smiles at you. My God you think, that smile, she’s so sexy. You’re about to tell her this, but she turns away, speaking into the phone in a subdued manner.

“Yes boss, I will. I’ll explain it to him. I’ll make sure he understands,” is all you manage to catch as she hangs up.

“Explain what?” you ask, looking at the cum still on her cheeks and hair. “What was so important that you phone your boss before cleaning my cum of your face?”

Either your girlfriend didn’t hear you, or she ignores you. Instead, she holds out her phone and takes a selfie, then fiddles with her phone. You hear the swoosh sound indicating a sent message. Apparently satisfied that the message has been delivered, she reaches for a dishcloth and wipes her face. She takes a deep breath and quietly speaks.

“I had to call John. He wanted to know how you reacted to — you know — seeing pictures of me sucking him off. He’s very — insistent. He said that you’d react that way.”

“What way?”

“That’d you’d get excited at the thought of your girlfriend blowing her much bigger boss. That you wouldn’t be man enough to make me suck you. That you’d just sit there and let me call him afterwards with the cum still warm on my face and not interrupt.”

“Jesus Rachel! What are you saying?” you yelp, your mind reeling. “Did you send him that picture? Is that what he told you to do too?”

“Yes. John wanted proof. He wanted to see your cum on my face. He wanted to know that you accept my new role.”

“What? What do you mean? New role?”

“That I’m now his at work. That you accept that even at home he controls me.”

“I don’t accept that!” you yell, standing up and trying to exert your authority. “I’m your boyfriend dammit!”

Rachel looks down at the floor, blushing. “It’s true, Ross, you are my boyfriend, and I love you. But John is right. I showed you pictures of me with his superior dick in my mouth and you got an erection. Then when I told you John said you aren’t allowed in my mouth you came all over my face. He said you’d do that. That it means you want me to be his slut.”

You don’t know what to say. How did this happen? It was supposed to be a sexy fantasy game, and now your loving girlfriend is talking about being her bosses slut at work! Holy shit — is it true? Do you want that too? Does she?

“Is that what you want Rachel? Do you want to be John’s slut?”

Rachel doesn’t say anything. It feels like hours as you stand there watching, waiting for her answer. She takes a deep breath.

“Yes I do. He’s so — big and — forceful. I enjoyed him making me do those things — controlling me — even when he wasn’t near me he could still make me do things. Things I know I shouldn’t do — but still wanted to do. Wanting to please him. Even when I was stroking you off on my face I could hear him telling me what to do. Telling me that you aren’t big enough for me to blow, even though I love you. Ordering me you jack you off on my face like a cheap slut! Oh honey, what’s wrong with me!”

With that, Rachel runs out of the room, tearing up. You tuck yourself in and find her in the bedroom a few minutes later. She seems to have calmed down, and is laying out her clothes on the bed. They’re work clothes, but you notice that they’re the more revealing ones she doesn’t often wear — like the dress she wore today, the tops are all a bit loose around the chest and the skirts are form-fitting and short.

“Are you okay?” you ask tentatively.

“Yeah. I just needed a minute to myself to calm down.”

“That’s it? Really?” you say with relief.

“Not really. I don’t know what to wear tomorrow.”

“What? I’m talking about what just happened Rachel,” you say.

“So am I,” Rachel responds in a whisper. “John wants me to” — to dress“ — more appropriately for him from now on” — “ she opens her underwear drawer and takes out matching bra and panties, strips, and puts them on. She then fishes about for a second in another drawer and takes out stockings and suspenders you haven’t seen since forever. She sits on the bed pulling the stockings up and clipping them into place. She looks over at you.

“This is how I’m to dress at work from now on, Ross. John says that you have to choose the outerwear though. If you don’t choose properly I have to blow him but he won’t fuck me. If you do choose well, then he will. If he fucks me, then I’m allowed to jack you off. Get it? John says that it’ll be fun — you get to play ‘Choose Your Own Adventure.’”

You look down at the clothes laid out on the bed and gape at the assortment. The dresses and skirts are all above the knee and have splits in them. The blouses are all your favorites — you’ve looked down them at Rachel’s boobs many a time when you thought she wasn’t looking. Like that guy at the copier did, you think wryly. Was that really only this morning?

“Seriously? This is how it is now?” you whine.

“Yes. I like be controlled like this, not having a say in what I have to do. I still love you, but John owns me now. Anyway, I don’t have a choice, and neither do you. He has pictures of me measuring his cock and then sucking it. He has a text from my phone of me smiling at the camera with my dress pulled down to my tits. Of my face covered in cum. Your cum. I’m lucky — I enjoy this. I’m sorry if you don’t. But you should have yelled at me and ran off to beat John to a pulp. But you didn’t. You let me jack you off, and came on my face when I told you John said I’m not allowed to suck you.”

You stand there in the doorway contemplating the events of the day. Did agreeing to sext with your gorgeous girlfriend really end up here after one day? How did you not notice this subservient side to Rachel before now? And how did her boss find it so easily? Since when did being six inches long not be enough to satisfy Rachel?

“What will it be?” Rachel asks, snapping you out of your reverie.