My master worked away from home most of the week so I tended to see him at the weekends, and my life at home carried on as usual. It was a fairly expensive business having two lads at university even though I had been left fairly comfortably off, so one day I commented to my master that I was thinking of getting a part time job, assuring him that I wouldn’t let it interfere with our relationship. Later that day he suggested that I could maybe start to work for him. “I could do with a PA to help with reports and stuff,” he told me. “You’re bright enough, if I e-mail you my notes, I’m sure you could shape them up, I’ll let you have some old reports to see what’s required. You could help sort out my accounts too. You could work from home a couple of half days in the week, then maybe come to my flat on a Friday, when I’m usually here, and help me here.” “Are you sure?” I asked. I haven’t worked for several years and wasn’t very confident about what I could do, though it was true that I was bright enough I suppose, I have a degree and used to have a very good job before I had the children. I was wearing a just above the knee length skirt and thin blouse, with more buttons undone than would normally be considered prudent, no underwear except stockings and high heels. “Look, you’re already dressed for the part,” my Master said, “I’ll interview you.” He took another chair over to his desk, positioning it slightly to the side and asked me to sit down. I sat down, subtly hitching up my skirt up and crossing my legs in a way that would appear demure but actually reveal quite a lot of thigh and stocking top. “Well, Ms Jones, I hope you understand that I can be a very demanding employer.” “Oh yes, Sir,” I assured him, “I would do anything that you asked me to.” “And I expect a very high standard of work, I won’t tolerate mistakes, I would be very severe with you” I hung my head, looking demure, but leaned forward to show my tits. “I understand that, Sir, it’s no more than I would expect.” “I will expect you to work late sometimes.” “I will stay as long as you like, Sir. I will do exactly what you desire, stopping all night if necessary. Would you like me to demonstrate some of my skills?” “Hmm, I think that would be a very good idea, Ms Jones, perhaps you could show me your techniques?” I knelt down in front of him, unzipped his trousers and started to lick his cock. After a few moments I undid my blouse and offered my breasts to his mouth, whilst continuing with the hand job. His hand slid up my legs. “I am pleased to note you don’t want to risk overheating by wearing too many clothes. I think that is very satisfactory,” he murmured. “If you could lean over my desk, I need to inspect you properly.” I slipped off my skirt and leant over his desk. He fingered my pussy and arse and pushed his cock into me and shagged me rapidly, pushing me hard over the desk, balls banging against my arse. When he came I turned and knelt on the floor to lick him clean. “Well, it looks as if you have the job, you certainly have all the qualifications I require.” He laughed and sat me on his lap. “Seriously though, I think we ought to give it a try, see how it goes for a few weeks anyway. The only thing is, will you be ok doing overtime now and then. What I mean is, if I think it might clinch a deal with the odd client, will you entertain them for me. Even have sex with them.” “If I’m getting paid to do it, it makes me into a prostitute.” I quickly added, “Sorry Master, that’s just how it feels.” I hung my head, I knew it was wrong to argue with him like this, I was not being a good slave and he was being very patient with me. “I understand that, but it will only be on a rare occasion. We may now and then take someone out for a meal, or you may very occasionally dance with a potential client, but that will usually be it. Just think of it as being a loyal employee and a good slave. Look, its not that I deal with seedy people, but occasionally it may make all the difference.” “Yes master, I’ll help entertain your clients” I assured him, then bent over, thinking he’d want to punish me for arguing with him. He smacked me playfully, and pulled me up again, telling me to sit on his lap. He lifted my chin up. “I may be your master, but in so many ways, you are mine. I don’t know how I managed until you came into my life.” I beamed up at him. The writing up of my master’s reports was fascinating and I even got to grips with setting up the PAYE for myself and other accounting procedures. The system of e-mailing work backwards and forwards worked well. On the days I went into my Master’s apartment the work varied. Some weeks he was busy and I worked properly for him; other times I worked improperly. He would tell me to dress up in my maid’s outfit and I’d teeter about the place, bending over to show my pussy or standing in front of him so he could suck my tits and finger my slit. Another time, I would be dressed as a secretary and he would call me over and tell me to lean over the desk so he could punish me for mistakes in my work. I would slide seductively out of my skirt and stand in stockings and high heels to have my arse beaten for spelling mistakes. Sometimes I’d put a few in on purpose… One time we went out to see some potential clients together, so I dressed in a smart business suit with an above the knee skirt, stockings, heels etc. We met over lunch and then I went with the Managing Director into his office whilst my Master did a site inspection with the engineer to understand the business processes. I started showing the director a presentation of some case studies I had prepared, as we’d agreed, but it became fairly clear he wasn’t concentrating… I moved round the table towards him, asking, “Is there a problem, Sir?” He looked a bit flustered. “Umm, I’m just having a bit of a problem concentrating” he replied. I brushed against him, so my nipples grazed his arm. He lifted his hand and felt them gently. I gave a little groan and this encouraged him to slip his hand inside my shirt and caress my breasts and nipples. I brushed my lips against his and the next thing he was passionately kissing me, his hands exploring my body, wondering up my skirt to find stocking tops and a skimpy thong. I felt the bulge in his trousers and carefully unzipped them and let his erect cock spring out. I knelt down and teased the end of his cock with my lips, then drew my tongue up the length of his shaft. I have to say he wasn’t very well endowed and I don’t think he got many blow-jobs at home either, judging by his reaction. It wasn’t long before he came and I dutifully gulped all the semen down, licked him clean and zipped his trousers back up. I adjusted my clothing, went over to the coffee machine and poured out two cups of coffee. “Is that better Sir?” I asked, “Do you think our company will be able to help you?” Needless to say, we managed to get that job