Friday, March 31, 2017

The Wererock - Chapter 6 – Part 2 of 2

The Wererock
By Guest Writer:  Mike
Chapter 6 – Part 2 of 2

Another hour went by, the shoes safely strapped to my feet. I got even more work done and was feeling good about how the day was progressing. Still, what if I took my shoes off again? My A-cup breasts were nothing more than hard bulges; they didn’t really bounce. I was certain I could go up another half size without risking exposure. The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. It was a risky game I could play with myself. Is this how Cynthia felt when she obeyed her faceless mistress? This excitement tinged with a hint of fear?
I took off my heels, donned my work shoes and made a quick tour of my office. I talked to Carley for a moment, asking her about her night and her upcoming baby. I sighed two forms that she needed me to sign before visiting the central programming hub. The hub was just eight cubicles arranged in quads. Currently two were empty; I truly hoped I could put Cynthia in one of them.
How much time had passed?
I stopped in the restroom and took care of business. I didn’t have to go, but it was an excuse to delay returning to my office for a moment longer. I felt my panties gush at the risk I was taking. Peeing with a vagina still felt foreign yet that excited me, too. I sat on the toilet for a few minutes, wondering why I hadn’t run back to my office. Still, a half cup size wouldn’t be that noticeable. Would it? I sat there waiting for the timer to expire and when it did I felt my pussy clench exactly when my chest tingled and grew. My breast became just a little bit bigger. I stood up and felt my breasts bounce. Just a little bit but it was there. I glanced at my chest and thought I could see a bulge beneath my shirt. Would anybody else notice?
I walked back to my office, now aware of the clock. It took less than a minute to return to my desk and less than another thirty seconds to don the shoes. That time had come off the next ten-minute deadline. Next time I’d have B-cup breasts. Could I hide those? That was the thought I tried to shake as I returned to work.
Lunch time came and with it the thought that I should go fetch something from the deli across the street. They had good sandwiches and an amazing BLT. Typically, it took less than ten minutes to run to the deli, get my sandwich and return to my desk. But I didn’t have ten minutes. I had maybe eight. Was it worth the risk? If I had my jacket I’d go, that much was certain, but somehow, I left it at home this morning. Cynthia had proven to be an exciting distraction. Eight minutes, should I do it? I shut my eyes and imagined Cynthia ordering me to go get lunch. Hurry, she said, in her soft, lilting voice, you don’t want your boobs to get bigger out on the street do you?
No, I didn’t.
But maybe you do, the voice of Mistress Cynthia came to me. Is this how she felt when she obeyed her imagined owner? It was exciting and it was scary and yet somehow, I knew I would have to do it no matter how insane the idea seemed.
I slipped off my heels, put on my dress shoes and stepped out of the office. I stopped at Carley’s desk and asked if she wanted anything. I think I did that just to stall. It wasn’t planned, at least I don’t think it was, but still I felt a full minute tick by. My whole body felt tense. I took Carley’s order and then left the building. I skirted my car, wondering if I’d be able to take solace in it if my breasts became too big to hide.
The deli wasn’t overly crowded; it was a little bit past their lunch rush. There was only one person in front of me, an old man with white hair and thick, white, fluffy eyebrows, who was ordering a pastrami sandwich. He placed his order, and then I placed mine. I did opt for the BLT. I felt the seconds racing by like a river. Each one bringing me closer and closer to a larger breast size. Why was I taking this risk? It was silly. It was stupid. It was damned exciting. It felt like every nerve in my body was abuzz like an angry bee hive. I felt alive and scared; a damsel in some B-grade horror movie.
The old man received his sandwich and a moment later I picked up my order. It was going to be close. I started back towards the office. I made it half way across the parking lot when it happened. The buzz in my chest started and became a quick, maddening itch before it faded away. Just like that my tits were noticeably bigger. It wasn’t just the size that made them stand out but the volume. Do the math. I felt them wobble and dance with each step. I brought my sandwich bags higher, using them to hide my chest. My tits weren’t huge but they were big and they were noticeable. How the hell was I going to hide them?
I took the stairs. Most people took the elevator so that minimized my exposure. Walking through the third-floor suite, I kept my back turned towards any of my employees. Nobody stopped me in the hallway as they were all caught up in their work or their own lunch. So far so good. I got lucky; Carley wasn’t at her desk. I put her order on her desk and then dashed into my office. A minute later I was wearing my heels. That had been close. Too close.
But damn did I feel aroused. Almost getting caught gave me the feeling of getting away with something and that made me want to try it again. I felt caught up in a game where I always had to outdo the turn before. It was scary and stupid and I felt like an addict needing a hit of something just a tad stronger than the last dose.
Carley popped into my office to thank me for her lunch. I had moved my computer monitor between me and the door so that kept me shielded. I joked that tomorrow she could play gopher. She laughed, agreed, and returned to her desk. That reminded me that I’d have to find a replacement; Carley had worked with me for two years. I would feel her absence; she knew exactly what I needed done and how I wanted it completed.
I got another hour worth of work done when the desire to up the risk returned. I glanced at my dress shoes sitting beneath my desk. Should I risk it? Cynthia’s voice popped up and that made up my mind, even if her voice was only in my head. I put on my own shoes and went to the bathroom. I followed that up with a trip to the lounge to make a cup of coffee. I could have had Carley make me a cup, but this wasn’t about the coffee. This was about those terrifying ten minutes. 
I returned to my office and waited out the change. The tingling came and went and with it my boobs were bigger. Much bigger but I knew they could get bigger still. I locked the door and masturbated for ten more minutes, almost coming when my breast grew again. There was no hiding them now.
I put my heels back on. An hour later I took them off again. It was far too exciting to tempt fate and see just how big I could make them. Ten minute later I was sporting breasts half way between a C-cup and a full D. They looked huge. Not mammoth like I had taken into Publix, but far too big to hide behind my classy dress shirt. Hell, now they were probably too big to conceal beneath my jacket had I remembered to wear it to work.
Cynthia texted me an odd “LOL” with nothing to go with it. I responded, asking her what she was laughing at but my phone remained stubbornly silent. Oh well, I would see her for dinner and ask her what she meant. Reading her text made me think of her commanding me to take off my heels. Of course, I obeyed. Now I was sporting a full rack of perfectly huge tits.
Carley left at four, asking me if I needed anything before she left.
“I’m good, thanks Carley. See you tomorrow.” I called over my monitor so that she couldn’t see my tits.
After she left I took my heels off again. I guess Cynthia hadn’t found a way for me to keep them on. She did, however, find a fun way for me to switch between playing with my growing tits and wearing those sexy shoes. I still felt excited when I risked taking my heels off and each time I felt the buzz in my chest as my boobs grew I felt a rising wave of pleasure in my pussy.
I left the office about an hour later than normal just to make sure I was the last one to leave. I carried my heels with me, hoping that nobody was around to see them or my now gigantic chest. I left work sporting double-d’s. That thought aroused me, too. It had been an exciting day and I was looking forward to dinner with Cynthia.
I started for home but before I was half way there Cynthia called me and directed me to her place. I drove to Cynthia’s and during the twenty minute drive my chest grew two more sizes. The seatbelt cut into my chest. My tits were huge and heavy and I was starting to really feel the pull of them. By the time I arrived at Cynthia’s, the sun had disappeared below the horizon and the sky had turned a soft purple tinged with pink. It was a lovely sky made even lovelier by Cynthia’s pretty face when she opened the door.
“How’s my girl?” She asked, ogling my chest.
“Stacked,” I responded. I gave her a kiss. She kissed me back, reaching up to fondle my breasts. I trembled at her touch.
“Did you have fun today?”
I admitted that I had. I told her all about my day and by the end of it she was laughing so hard that her eyes were damp.
“What’s so funny.”
“Your jacket is at the office.” The confusion on my face made her laugh some more. “It was your punishment for forgetting your purse. I made you forget that you had the jacket with you. I was thinking of you this afternoon and that’s when I texted you. I was pretty sure I knew exactly what you were doing.” She wiped her eyes, “Oh, and look at your boobs. You couldn’t stop yourself, could you. You just had to come.”
My face flushed red. Cynthia gave me a hug and kissed me full and hard. “I’ve needed you in my life,” she said, sounding sincere. “I mean that.”
I kissed her back and admitted to feeling the same thing. I hadn’t realized how lonely I was until Cynthia was there to take that feeling of isolation away.
We ate a simple dinner of fried chicken with homemade potato salad. It was a simple meal of comfort food and by the end of it I was comforted. I was relaxed and felt at ease sitting with Cynthia on her couch while I rubbed her stockinged feet. The foot I was rubbing felt good in my hands and the one that was free of my touch was tweaking my nipples though my thin white shirt.
“I want to fuck you,” Cynthia said, pulling the stone from her panties.  “Just you. No changes, no nothing, just me and you. Okay?”
I nodded. Cynthia gripped the stone and made her breasts their normal, tiny size. She handed me the stone and I became me. Wholly me. Cynthia stood up and took my hand. She led me to her bedroom. The bed was turned back and a pair of candles were burning on the dresser. She slowly unbuttoned my shirt, parting it to reveal my hairless chest. I had shaved, of course, and hadn’t thought to use the Wererock to regrow my hair.
Cynthia turned around. I found the zipper and slowly lowered it along the curve of her spine. I saw her bronze skin and the thin black strap to her bra. Cynthia shimmied out of her dress and spun around again. She kissed me or I kissed her or both at once. I felt the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers and felt the heated rush of her hands on my belt. She unfastened my pants and pulled them down with my panties as well in one, quick motion.
I pushed Cynthia on the bed. Her hands came up to hide the padded cups of her bra but I pushed her hands away. “They’re beautiful,” I said, meaning it.
Cynthia bit her lip but said nothing. She was trembling. She was exited, yes, but she was scared, too. Shew as afraid I would reject her as she was instead of what she could become. Right then I wasn’t thinking of the Wererock or what it could do. I was enraptured by Cynthia and living solely in that joyous moment. I kissed her again and trailed my mouth over her chin, down her strong neck to the valley of her chest. I kissed the lacy edge where the bra met her skin. My hands slipped beneath her to undo her bra. When I pulled the bra away, Cynthia was holding her eyes shut. I could tell exactly how nervous she was, not by what we were doing. No, she was afraid I would reject her. She was battling her insecurities and I cherished her for it.
Her breasts were small but they were there. Her nipples were pink and hard. Goosebumps decorated her arms. She was holding her eyes shut, afraid to look at me looking at her. We all have our insecurities and watching Cynthia battle against hers made me feel both protective and aroused at the same time. I watched her struggle and made a simple promise to never let her down. It’s funny, I had gone in expecting to fuck - Cynthia wanted me and I wanted her. We had not known each other for long, what more could it be but simple longing amplified by the use of that magic rock. Instead, she and I made love. It was the first time I had ever felt the difference. I had never been married and while I’ve dated and have told women that I love them, at that moment I felt that all those previous affirmations were nothing but lies.
Cynthia pulled me on top of her. At first I thought she was using my body to hide her shame but when she arched her back and brought my hands to her nipples I knew she was finally lost in the moment we were sharing. We made love by candlelight and when we were done, and both of us were sated, Cynthia rolled over and settled into the crook of my right arm, her head on my shoulder. My hand dropped down to hold her nascent breast. She didn’t push my hand away. I felt the warmth of her body next to mine and I savored the feeling. She seemed to fit perfectly against me, like two Lego blocks snapping into place exactly where they belonged.
We were quiet, lying in silence, just feeling content. I nuzzled her head with my cheek and she let out a gentle sigh. “Spend the night.”
We lay there for about an hour after that, just talking. At first it was about the Werestone but that soon faded. She told me about her dad and how he had died in a silly motorcycle accident. I told her about my parents living in Montana because they liked the snow even if they were getting far too old to play in it like they used to. I learned about her twin brothers; she learned I was an only child. In a way, our conversation was infinitely more intimate that what had preceded it. I think that made it far more real.
Cynthia climbed out of bed and blew out the candles. I watched her brushing her teeth and when she offered me her toothbrush I felt even closer to her. At that moment, I knew she was willing to share everything. I brushed my teeth with Cynthia watching.
Back in bed, the lights all out, the dishes done and the doors all locked we snuggled together. She was lying on her stomach, her chin on my chest with one hand on my cock, slowly waving it side to side just to feel it twitch. I gave her a look that made her smile but neither of us changed positions. We were being comfortable with each other. I felt relaxed and safe with Cynthia and by the look on her face and the light in her eyes I was certain she felt the same way.
Cynthia released my cock and shifted higher. She settled into my shoulder again and we became those Lego blocks. She pulled my hand to her breast, telling me that she was okay with who she was no matter what the stone could do. 
The room was dark; the sun had long since given up the day. I could just make out the bedroom windows by the light of whatever moon was shining. We were lying naked under the covers. I took comfort in Cynthia lying next to me. That feeling of belonging together seemed to grow the longer I lay by her side. I kissed her head and she made a soft purring sound.
Twenty minutes later she was sound asleep. I lay there quietly, enjoying the gentle sounds she made as she slept and the rhythmic feeling of her breathing. Her sleeping made me feel a protective, happy warmth. She felt safe, otherwise how could she sleep? And if she felt safe then she felt safe with me. I doubt she could have slept if she didn’t trust me and knowing that she did made me feel powerful and worthy of her. Her snores brought me joy. It wasn’t anything I had ever felt before.
I fell asleep with the knowledge that I was falling in love.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

The Wererock - Chapter 6 - Part 1 - Playing at Work

The Wererock
By Guest Writer:  Mike

Chapter 6 – Part 1
Playing at Work

Cynthia arrive at my house just before seven the next morning. She looked refreshed and beautiful, wearing a simple yellow sundress decorated with bright orange piping. She was wearing stockings again; a quick twirl proved that. Sadly, she didn’t twirl enough to flash me her panties.
“How’d you sleep?” Cynthia asked, giving me a kiss as she entered my house. I grumbled something incoherent that made her laugh. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know what I did was a little mean, but do you remember the story I told you? The one at the mall with the scissors.”
I was horny, still feeling a dull ache in my crotch, but I wasn’t daft. I nodded in response, not trusting myself to say something hurtful. She had left me in a state and I was still feeling it this morning. When I awoke, I found one hand inside my panties, absently stroking the wet flesh I found. The first thing I had done was masturbate, caressing the velvety folds and rubbing my hand furiously over my extended clit. Nothing helped; no at a single swipe, or twist, or caress could send me teetering over that frustrating cliff. I slammed my fists against the mattress in frustration before taking cold shower number four.
“Remember, how sometimes my mistress doesn’t allow me to come? I wanted to show you what that would be like. I’ve done this to myself. More than once. The only difference is thanks to the rock, you really had no choice.” She kissed me again. “It’s something I’m really into and I suspect,” she hitched her shoulder into a tiny shrug, “We’ll both go through what you’re feeling many, many times. I’ve given it a lot of thought.”
I pursed my lips in thought. I knew she was telling me the truth; there really wasn’t any reason for Cynthia to lie to me. I recalled her story; she had said that sometimes she denied herself. I gave that some consideration. How much harder would it be to be denied when it was only your willpower to keep you from caving? The Wererock had made it physically impossible, no matter how much I tried to fight against the power of the stone. How much harder would it be to stop when you could drive yourself over the precipice of pleasure? Somehow, thinking about it made me forgive her even if there really wasn’t anything to forgive.
“Are you okay?” She asked, taking in the flush on my cheeks that was more frustration than anger.
I nodded. “I’m horny.”
“Good.” She looked at my boobs, “The silver kept you from changing, I see?”
Cynthia took my hand and led me to the couch.  “Remember when you said you wanted me to make you wear your heels to work?”
Had I said that? Yesterday was such a blur, but there was a faint glimmer of truth in what she said. I wasn’t sure I said the words but I had intimated that I found the thought exciting. Wasn’t that the same thing? I nodded, not sure I could find my voice.
She smiled, “Go get them.”
I returned a moment later with the black shoes with their blocky four-inch heel. I donned them as she commanded. She had me walk in them and satisfied that I wasn’t going to go crashing to the ground, she had me take the seat next to her again. I bowed me head so that she could remove the necklace and a moment later, with the Wererock clutched between our hands I watched as she made my tits disappear. She kept the copy of her pussy between my legs.
“Are you ready for today’s fun?”
“What are you thinking?” The way my voice cracked I thought I was going through puberty again.
Bend forward. With that she took of her grandmother’s necklace and wrapped it around her own throat. “Grab my hand again.” The Wererock was already there. She was peering into my eyes as she made her change. I didn’t feel any different but by the smile on her lovely face I knew she’d done something. The thought of it scared me a little and excited me even more. I felt my thighs press together; I hadn’t meant to move them, they just shifted on their own to try and ease the frustration I felt in my burning pussy.
“What did you do?”
She smiled, “I programmed you, my little puppet.” She laughed, full and hearty. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen until you get to work. I’ve got to get to work, too.” She made a disgusted little sound. “I want you to call me as soon as you get to your office. Bring your heels. And don’t forget your purse. A girl always carries her purse.”
We kissed good bye. “Hey,” I said. “When do I get to play with you?”
“Oh, you want to toy with me, little girl?” She was mocking me and I found that exciting too. With how I was feeling, just about every innuendo shot straight to my crotch.
“Well, yes.”
“Good.” She kissed me again. “Tonight, I’ll cook us dinner and we’ll discuss it. I promise, by this weekend, you can do what you want to me.” She smiled, “if you’re my mistress.” She shrugged, “I love men,” she admitted and I was happy about that, “But, for some reason, my internal owner is always a woman. So, I guess you’ll have to be a woman for me to be your plaything.”
The drive to work was easy. It felt good to be mostly myself. Those boobs had been distracting and heavy and I was glad to be rid of them even if it was just until I saw Cynthia after work. She liked the boobs on me. I know the reasoning and somehow that knowledge made feel even closer to her. That shared secret revealed a level of trust that seemed to bind us as a couple more than two individuals. Isn’t that what couples were? People bound together by a shared intimacy? Isn’t it the people closest to us that can hurt us the most because they knew our biggest secrets and couldn’t those secrets be used as weapons? I trusted Cynthia far more than I should; we hadn’t known each other that long. Still, I felt confident that she wouldn’t hurt me just like I had no intention to wound her at all. We were growing together; I felt that just as much as I felt that tinging need inside my panties.
I called Cynthia the moment I shut myself into my office. She sounded delighted. “Are you ready to know what I did?”
“Do you have your shoes?”
Shit. “They’re in the car.”
She giggled. “Too bad. You can come. You’re so horny I bet you want to come, right? I want you to come. I really do.”
I did, and as soon as she said I could I found my fingers traipsing through the soft, wet folds hidden by my panties.  I let out a little moan as two fingers slipped inside my pussy. My clit throbbed so hard I could time my pulse by its measured cry. I rubbed it gently, gasping in pleasure, before slipping those fingers back inside my body.
“Amy,” Cynthia was saying. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” I said, more distracted than anything else.
“Don’t you want to know what will happen if you come?”
That got my attention. My fingers stopped plunging into my sex; I set my feet flat on the floor with my legs wantonly splayed. There was more and it sounded important. I was panting, holding the phone in one hand with my other still cupping my hot mound. “What?” I whimpered, feeling the heat against my palm. “What will happen?”
She let out a little moan. She was doing it again, rubbing herself at my expense. I promised I would do the same thing when it was my turn to program her. It wasn’t vindictive, I just wanted to feel the power she felt. She gasped and I felt my pussy lurch. She moaned and I moaned in response. It took her a few more minutes and then she came calling out my name. “Oh,” she cooed. “That felt so good.” She was panting into the phone, trying to get her breathing under control. “Just wait until you do that. Of course,” she paused and I could see her smiling when I shut my eyes, “As soon as you come the programming kicks in.”
“What programming?” My voice was tiny.
“Simple. Do you know that everybody has a little internal clock?” I muttered something in response. “Well, after you come your little internal clock will keep track of you and if you’re wearing your heels then you have nothing to worry about. For every ten minutes you go without wearing those pretty heels of yours then your breasts will grow half a cup size. I’m sure you can go ten minutes without a problem; who would notice if you just had some tiny bumps under your shirt.” By the sadness in her voice I knew she was speaking from experience. “After an hour, though, well, could you hide some C-cup titties?” She giggled. “Imagine how big they’d get if you went two hours without wearing your heels? Would you even be able to walk?”
My shoes were in the car. Shit, shit, shit. I had to go get them. Cynthia was right, I could go ten, maybe twenty minutes without a problem. Any more than that and things would get exceedingly difficult.
But she wasn’t done, “Do you have your purse?”
That, too, was in the car. I couldn’t carry it or my heels with me into the office. How could I explain that to the rest of the staff? This game was between Cynthia and I; I wasn’t ready to play with the rest of the office. “It’s in the car,” I admitted.
“Didn’t I say a girl always carries her purse?”
“And aren’t you my girl?”
I was and I told her so. She said something that I couldn’t quite understand. A moment later she told me goodbye. I hung up the phone. My hand was still in my panties and I could still feel the burning need from the night before. In fact, it was far too warm in my office. I took off my suit jacket. That helped; it was cooler wearing just my white dress shirt than the whole suit. I took off my red tie and unbuttoned the top button of my shirt; that was cooler still. It didn’t sate the hunger in my pussy but I did feel a little bit cooler and a little bit more exposed.
My fingers trailed along the lips of my sex and my stomach lurched at the touch. I was horny and I wanted to come but something would happen. What had Cynthia said. Shit, my heels. If I came I’d have to wear my heels or my boobs would get bigger and bigger and bigger. I couldn’t let that happen. My heels were in the car; I had to get them. No, I reasoned, I didn’t need them unless I masturbated. I just had to keep my hands out of my panties.
I pulled my hand out of my slacks and tried to get some work done. I could feel the need in my body, a tingling in my crotch and a tightening in my stomach. My mouth was dry and every second that passed was one where I knew eventually I’d lose. I was horny and I was allowed to come. Why wasn’t I playing with my pussy?
Because of the heels. I needed my heels. I looked at my office door. Carley was sitting at her desk just outside my office not knowing the turmoil I was enduring. What would she say if she knew I had a pussy between my legs and that I was as horny as humanly possible? Should I send her to my car for my heels and my purse? A girl should always carry her purse. Where had I heard that?
I spent ten minutes looking over a few lines of code and then I spent an equal amount of time caressing my pussy through my black dress pants. This wasn’t working. I wasn’t going to get anything done if I didn’t just satisfy that need that was making my body tense and my panties wet. I could come and then go get my heels. I’m sure I could hide them in something. It wouldn’t take that long to go down to my car and come back. Surely it would be less than ten minutes. And, as Cynthia had said, who would notice a slight swelling in my chest.
I locked my office door. If Carley heard she gave no indication. I unbuckled my belt, slid my pants and panties to my knees and rubbed myself with the ferocity of the Tasmanian Devil from those old Bugs Bunny cartoons. My fingers were a blur, stroking my clit in huge, rapid circles. I felt my toes curl and my heart race as my orgasm overtook me. I shut my eyes, seeing stars and feeling my pussy hungrily grab my probing fingers. I came, panting into my hot office. The intensity waned but a slight tingling remained. Maybe one more. Women would do that far easier than men. The second orgasm took a little over five minutes. The third another five after that. I came just as I felt my breasts grow. It wasn’t subtle; I felt a tingling, like when your arm falls asleep because you laid on it for too long, and then they were there, two soft bumps rising from my chest.
I looked down, seeing the gentle swell. They weren’t really noticeable. I was certain that nobody else could tell that I was like a twelve-year-old girl just getting her breasts, but I knew they were there. I glanced around my office. I didn’t see my jacket. Of all the days to forget to wear a suit jacket. Heels. I needed my heels. The clock was ticking.
I looked around my office, trying to find something, anything, I could use to hide heels while I carried them from the car. The only thing that would work was the little round garbage can sitting next to my desk. I picked it up and raced out to my car. Carley called after me, causing me to mutter something about running to the car.
My suite of office was on the third floor of a six-story building. Starting out I had simply worked from home but as the business took off I found myself with more work than I could do. That led me to expanding my workforce to me and two other programmers, all three of us working from home. Still, as our name recognition grew, so too did the staff and by the third year of business I had had to rent, first a half floor and then a full floor of office suites and cubical space. I was the only one with a secretary though I was sure, as the business grew, I’d need to add more secretarial staff, too. I now had a total of fourteen employees, including a full time human resources direction and another full-time payroll manager who had the fortunate last name of Cash. Now, as I was rushing down the stairs from my third-floor office I was acutely aware of each passing second. Ten minutes isn’t that much time when the consequences were so great. Why hadn’t I worn a jacket? In all the years of going to the office I could not recall a day I had not arrived professionally attired.
I dashed to my car, throwing open the passenger side door. I fished my heels from the floorboard and threw them into the garbage can. With my shoes now with me I ran back to my office, only slowing when I was passing any of my employees. I couldn’t let them seem me so frazzled and how many minutes had it been? I had to get those heels on in a hurry; without a jacket, anything larger than an A-cup would mostly likely be noticeable.
I shut myself in my office and donned my shoes. I hadn’t felt that tell-tale tingle so I thought I was safe. Now that my heels were strapped to my feet did the ten-minute timer reset or would it continue if I had to take the shoes off my feet. It felt deliciously naughty to be wearing the heels in my office. So much so that I found my hand once again snaking into my panties. I didn’t masturbate, I simply caressed the soft flesh between my legs, shivering at my touch.
I paced my office, enjoying the feel of my heels almost as much as I savored the daring excitement of wearing them. This was the riskiest thing I’d ever done and I didn’t have a choice. Just that thought made me caress my pussy again.
I sat at my desk and got some work done. I kept my heels flat on the ground, savoring the erotic feel of my feet held in their delicious arch. Carley came in once to have me approve a letter and just talking to her while hiding my heels under my desk made me excited. I felt like a teenager that got away with sneaking some whiskey from their parent’s liquor cabinet. That feeling seemed to lead to some naughty thoughts. I could stay trapped in my office all day; I didn’t have to leave and since I was the boss if anyone needed to check in with me, well, they could come to me.
Feeling daring and already thinking I was getting away with something kinky, I slipped off my heels. I sat at my desk, waiting for the buzz to come. I kept glancing down at my chest, waiting for what I knew was coming. I looked at the heels and at my naked feet, I looked at my chest inside my thin dress shirt and then glanced back at my heels again. Cynthia had done it; she had found a way to force me to wear my heels at work all day. By setting the triggers with the Wererock she had made it so that I had to perform some task or face the consequences. Once again, I was floored by the power of that icy stone.
A tingling in my nipples announced the next ten-minute mark. The timer hadn’t reset when I donned the shoes; I couldn’t have slipped off my heels more than three minutes earlier. I felt the tingle and then watched as my breasts expanded. They were not that noticeable unless you knew to look for them but I knew they were there and that was enough. I quickly donned my shoes again.