Hi, my name is Amber and I'm a Bad Girl. Reckon I am, anyway -- maybe you guys can let me know what you think later, when I've told you some stuff.

I'm extremely pretty is the first thing to say, beautiful in fact, and I get an awful lot of male attention. An AWFUL lot. Men of all ages are forever ogling me, can't seem to help themselves, and they tend to go weak at the knees in my company. You know, start acting foolish, either trying like mad to impress me or ... with the shy ones ... coming over all gauche and embarrassed. Me, I don't mind at all. Not one iota. I'm fully aware of the effect I have on the male of the species and I enjoy it.

I'm 19 (a nice age for a girl to be) and as I say, I'm gorgeous. How gorgeous? Okay, so on a score of 1 to 10, I'd have to say I'm a 9.99 -- minimum. Giggle. I'm quite tall (but not too tall) and I have a lovely face and a perfect figure ... long shapely legs, firm full breasts, flawlessly smooth and lightly tanned skin ... a luscious bum ... you get the picture. Men have told me I make them SICK with desire. That's how gorgeous I am. Giggle. And, as I say, I like it. I really like being a drop-dead-looking girl and I like the effect I have on men.

Way I see it, I'm very lucky. I've been blessed with great beauty and I enjoy my good fortune. Why shouldn't I?

To be honest, I more than "like" the effect I have on men, I REVEL in it. I get a delicious sense of power, having men lusting over me all the time -- it turns me on. Feel guilty about relishing the power? No, I'm a beautiful girl and beautiful girls have power over men. That's how the world is.

I exploit my looks quite shamelessly in order to get things I want, or more often simply to amuse myself. I think it's natural for a girl like me to do this. It's perfectly cool, as far as I'm concerned. Mmm. Giggle. Like, for example, I tend to dress quite sexy. Nothing slutty or anything, but I definitely wear outfits which I KNOW get men hot and bothered. You know the sort of thing - short skirts and mini-dresses, revealing tops, low slung hip-hugging jeans, tight tee shirts, sassy little cut offs. I drive the boys crazy and I love every minute of it.

I'm a tease, I guess is what I'm saying. Giggle. God I can be sooo wicked.

I'm especially naughty at the office. We have to dress quite conservative, company like ours, but my skirt is always close fitting and hugs my bum. Cut a little above the knee so it slides nicely up my thighs as I cross, uncross, re-cross my legs - which I do a whole lot of, needless to say. My blouse tends to have enough buttons undone to give a glimpse of my breasts as they nestle in a flimsy lace bra. More than a glimpse, in fact, from certain angles. I drive all the guys there nuts, basically - pretty much torture them. I'm not good for productivity, I must admit, since most of them spend more time ogling my legs and trying to get a peep into my blouse than they do actually working. Poor things. Giggle.

I don't do much work either, truth be told, not since I got Roger, my boss, under my thumb -- tell you later how that happened.

(2) SHE HUMILIATES A GEEK

As for the other guys at the office, I'm out of their league -- and they know it -- but I tease and flirt with them all the time. Why? Stops me getting bored, for one thing. Also, I enjoy the adulation. It's a delicious situation for a girl to be surrounded by a bunch of guys, and to know full well that every single one of them fancies her rotten. A few of them are quite dishy too -- Dean, for example, and Donny -- and this makes it all the more fun.

There's one guy there who I DON'T flirt with, and that's Gerald. Gerald is this totally pathetic guy, kind of weedy and spotty and wears glasses -- his nickname is Geek, which pretty much sums him up. He's not at all dishy, let's just say that.

So no, I don't flirt with Gerald the Geek, although of course he fancies me just as much as the others do. You'd probably expect a girl like me to ignore such a geeky loser, but in fact I don't. Gerald no doubt wishes I DID ignore him, though. Why? Well because I make his life at work a misery basically, with the way I treat him. Gerald HATES me.

Giggle.

I caught him ogling me one day, a while ago, when I was in a fairly wicked mood, and decided to have some fun. I got up and strolled over to his desk, stood there smiling down at him.

"Question for you, Gerald," I announced in a voice loud enough for the other guys to hear.

"Whhat's that, Amber?" he stuttered.

"Why are you staring at me? Do you fancy me or something?"

Silly question really. I was looking particularly sexy and gorgeous that day and I knew every guy there had been staring longingly at me all morning.

"Well?" I persisted, putting him on the spot.

"I ggguess so," he said, embarrassed.

The other guys were watching this now. Sniggers all round at Gerald's admission that he fancied me.

"Well that's nice Gerald, but what would your girlfriend say about it if she found out?"

This caused a fair degree of general amusement. "Don't think Geek Boy has a girlfriend, Amber, do you?" said Dean, grinning sardonically.

I giggled and perched myself up on Gerald's desk. Sat very close to him. I could see he was trembling a little at me being so near.

"Is that right, Geek? Don't you have a girlfriend?" I smirked. This was the first time I'd called him by his derisory nickname and it amused the room.

"No Amber," he mumbled.

"Aw poor little Geeky," I chuckled. "Guess that's why you look at me all the time. Bet you get excited looking at me, don't you? My legs for example, do you like my legs?"

I slid even closer to the poor guy and I slowly crossed my legs, letting my skirt ride up a few inches. Our position meant my legs were flaunted right in front of him.

"S'okay Geek, you don't need to answer," I grinned. "I know EXACTLY how much I turn you on. And I know all you can ever do is look. Like now, with my sexy legs. You can look but you can't touch. Must be soooo frustrating for you. Not like with the other guys, is it? Not like Dean and Donny for example. They fancy me too but at least they have girlfriends, so the sight of me in my sexy skirt and my sexy blouse doesn't torture them the way it does you. It's true, isn't it? I torture you just by being me."

Gerald nodded. Poor guy was being humiliated in front of everybody. The others were laughing at him, enjoying it almost as much as I was.

"Aw and I'm such a TEASE, aren't I? I mean, look at me perched here on your desk in my sexy little skirt, flaunting my long shapely legs in your face. Cruel of me, isn't it? Doing this when you can't even touch them. Should I unbutton my blouse a bit more and show you my tits? They're very nice, you know. Should I show you, Gerald, or should I just let you imagine? Hey, do you jerk off every night thinking about me? Mmm, I think you do."

"Think that's a fair bet, Amber" chirped Donny. "Course, so do the rest of us."

I pouted and giggled. I pretty much knew this of course but it turned me on to hear Donny say it.

I leant forward and tweaked Gerald's nose. "See you later Geek," I grinned as I slipped off his desk, then sashayed sexily back across the office ... with a knowing smile and an extra wiggle of the hips ... pleasantly aware that all the boys were ogling me and wished I was their girlfriend.

"And behave yourself in future," I called back.

This incident set the tone with me and Gerald.

And the guys loved it, of course. They fell about, tormented poor Gerald mercilessly about it for the rest of the day.

It also sealed the poor boy's fate - being humiliated by me like this in front of the whole office removed the last vestiges of self esteem he had. He was bullied quite a bit in the time before this, but the floodgates were open now. I was Queen Bee around the place, because everyone fancied me, and they knew now that the Queen Bee approved of tormenting Gerald the Geek. The guys who liked to rip into him, such as Dean and Donny, were encouraged and the bullying got much worse.

Another aspect of the delicious, devastating power I have as a beautiful and very sexy girl. Giggle.

Jeez, some of the things that've been done to Gerald in the office between then and now. Poor little guy.

Not surprising he hates me so much, is it?

(3) AMBER AND CYNTHIA

Yeah I have a whale of a time at work, I really do. No female competition either -- only other girl is this plain dumpy thing called Cynthia. She secretly hates me too, of course, I'm everything she'd love to be, but isn't. Poor cow really is a minger (a word guys use to describe an ugly girl). I said I'm a 9.99, didn't I? Well, Cynthia is a 2 and that's on a good day. Giggle.

Can't be easy for her either, being the Beast to my Beauty, observing close hand how I've got every guy there wrapped round my little finger -- panting adoringly over me -- when she gets no male attention whatsoever. Jealous isn't the word. She's GREEN with envy. Totally eaten up by it, and you can't really blame her. She's the sort of girl who doesn't have a boyfriend and knows she never will. Probably never even been kissed. God, can you imagine? No, neither can I. So glad I'm pretty and can have fun with guys whenever I want.

The contrast between Cynthia and me is so obvious and cruel, it's actually very funny. Funny for me, anyway. I get quite a kick out of it, I'm not ashamed to say. Makes me look even more gorgeous than I already am for one thing, only other girl in the place being fat and ugly. She gets called some really hurtful names by some of the boys in the office -- "Dumpster" being the default -- but I don't do that. I often laugh along with the rest of them when they abuse her like this, kind of egg the boys on, but I personally don't call her names. What I do is more subtle, but it's maybe more cruel. I pretend to be her friend. She's very needy and has zero self-confidence (for obvious reasons) and so she puts up with our totally unbalanced relationship.

She sort of reminds me of this ugly girl at school who was totally in awe of me, who I used to let hang around just so I could do stuff like get her to hold my bag, keep watch for teachers, while I kissed good looking boys. Poor thing - giggle.

I'm very capricious with Cynthia, alternating between being friendly (but always in an extremely superior and condescending manner) and ignoring her. She never knows how I'm going to be on any particular day, or even during the day, since I chop and change as the mood suits me. She's my lapdog, if you know what I mean. Like I'll beckon her across to my desk -- "Hey Cynth," I'll drawl, crooking my finger at her, and over she'll trot. It really is quite pathetic and usually leads to an outbreak of cackling from the likes of Dean and Donny.

"Over she goes," they jeer, "Amber's best friend."

"Shut up guys," I say, but I'm grinning, so they know I'm finding it as funny as they are. "Don't worry about those bozos," I say to Cynthia, as she stands by my desk.

Then I go silent for a while, tap away at my keyboard as if she isn't there. Poor girl doesn't know what to do now, stands there shuffling from side to side, wanting to speak but scared to -- since I've made it clear to her many times how I don't like her interrupting me while I'm typing.

I keep this up for a few minutes, enjoying her discomfort, how the guys are sniggering at her, just kind of revelling in my power.

"Err ... Amber?" she finally manages to blurt out.

I look up and smile. "Cynthia!" I exclaim, as if I'm surprised to find her standing there. "How are you today?" I ask.

"GGGood. You?"

"Oh you know, same old same old," I say, sounding extremely bored with the exchange. I stretch my arms up and back and I yawn in her face. The stretching has the effect of pushing my spectacular breasts up hard against the flimsy material of my blouse and I'm deliciously conscious that every guy within eyeshot is ogling.

"Tell me something fascinating," I say to her.

"Er, well ..." and she tails off into silence. No surprise since not much that's fascinating, or indeed even slightly interesting, happens in Cynthia's life. Most noteworthy thing is probably what I'm telling you about here ... how I torment her.

"Oh forget it, sorry for asking," I snap.

"I'm sorry Amber," she grovels. Really pathetic, that, and cue for more sniggers from the guys.

"Hey Amber, she's sorry for not telling you something fascinating. How about that?" jeers Donny.

"Be quiet Donny." I keep a straight face as I say this. Then I wink at him. The guys know I have my own special way of torturing Cynthia and they enjoy it. It's great sport for them. Only one who doesn't like it is Gerald the Geek and that's because, as you know, he hates me.

I switch my dazzling smile back on for Cynthia, look her up and down and note how she's followed my patronising advice of a couple of days ago to try wearing her skirts a little shorter. This one isn't what you'd exactly call short but it does show rather more than usual of her horrible legs. A dreadful sight, to be honest, and I have to fight very hard not to laugh.

"Hey excellent Cyn! A shorter skirt. Showing off those nice legs of yours."

She knows I'm making fun of her but I'm her only "friend" and she's powerless to stand up for herself.

I'm enjoying myself now. "Hey guys, what do you think of Cyn's legs in this new skirt of hers? Pretty sexy eh?"

As I say this, I turn and grin at the watching guys. I swivel my chair round to face them and I slowly and teasingly cross my own legs -- my very gorgeous legs -- and let my skirt ride a few inches up my thighs. I keep grinning wickedly at them, enjoying how they're ogling MY legs when we're meant to be talking about Cynthia's legs. I lazily scratch a pretend itch under my skirt, tantalise them a little more. Giggle. The guys are drooling and I hear one or two throaty male groans. Their desire for me is palpable, I know it and they know that I know it.

Cynthia knows it too, poor girl, and she's also staring at my legs. Not with desire in her case, she's consumed with envy. I know she's being humiliated by what I'm doing here. Just as I'd intended, she's never felt more unattractive than right now, and she's feeling completely ridiculous in her new skirt. But she still has to stand there. She wishes the ground would open up and swallow her, yet my power over her is such that she can't go back to her desk until I say so. Until I dismiss her, as it were.

Which I will, but not quite yet. I'm getting off on humiliating her and I want to carry on a while longer. It really is a scream.

I grin over at Dean. He's smirking and I smirk back.

"So, Dean, what about you? You into Cynthia's legs?"

"Amber baby, I can hardly contain myself. The Dumpster's got it going on today."

The room falls about at his cruel and obvious sarcasm.

I join in the mocking laughter. Everyone is openly laughing at the poor girl now. Well all except Gerald the Geek, who's chosen to leave the room.

"There you go, Cyn," I chuckle. "You're a hit with the guys. Carry on like this and you never know, you might get a boyfriend and we can start double-dating and stuff, you and me."

"Would you like to double-date with me, Cynthia? You know, us two plus a couple of hunky boys. One for you and one for me. Would you like that, Cyn?"

"Oh yes, Amber," she has to say, even though the notion is absurd and saying how she'd like it just makes her look irredeemably ridiculous. Poor cow.

"Well, let's discuss it at our next girly lunch. You pop along and have a think about when we might arrange that."

And with this, I swivel my chair back round and start typing again. Poor little Cynthia, off the hook at last, flees back to her desk. The fun is over until the next time.

(4) AMBER AND HUNKY ROBERT AND POOR CYNTH

So that's pretty much a flavour of me and Cynthia. The ways I find to demean, degrade and humiliate her are endless. Told you I was a Bad Girl, didn't I? Guess you're starting to realise just how wicked I am.

Those "girly lunches" by the way, is when Cynth and me go to the local Italian for lunch. We do it every couple of weeks or so and it's a chance for me to really queen it over her, rub her nose in the difference between us.

Like as well as being physically unattractive, she's quite poor -- still lives with her parents in a cheap and crappy little flat, for heaven's sake -- whereas me, it's a case of the pretty girl is also a rich girl. I don't actually need to work, to be honest, I only do it because of all the fun I have at the office.

I live in a sumptuous apartment, paid for by Daddy. I took her round there once, gave her the guided tour on a Saturday afternoon, just so she could see the luxury I wallow in. See how privileged as I am, as well as being beautiful. TORTURE her with envy, was the idea. Giggle. I showed her the massive walk-in closet (miles bigger than her entire bedroom, she marvelled -- poor thing) with all my designer clothes, pointed out a couple of sassy little dresses and told her how much they cost (how much they cost Daddy, that is, since it's his charge card I hammer), knowing it was more than she'd get to spend in a lifetime.

Rub rub rubbing it all in.

"All this just for little old me, Cynthia, when people like you and your folks have so little. Life's not fair, is it?" I said, as I showed her round. God, I was laughing so much inside when I said that.

When we sat down in the lounge for coffee, I extracted a fifty pound note from my bag and held it over a burning candle, set fire to it and casually used it to light a cigarette. Giggle. Did this right in front of her eyes -- then sat there smoking while the note burnt away in the ashtray on the table between us. Christ, you should have seen her poor little face when I did that. £50 is probably a week's housekeeping for her mother, and there's me wantonly destroying it just to light a ciggie. Poor Cynthia has to sit there and watch it burn away, too scared to protest for fear of upsetting her only "friend".

That was really wicked of me, wasn't it? Yeah I know, I'm terrible.

Giggle.

I don't actually smoke that much by the way, in case you're wondering, don't really like the habit. Just sometimes I do though, because it can look quite cool and glamorous and sexy when a gorgeous young girl like me smokes a cigarette.

Things got worse for poor Cynth that afternoon. About three o'clock, the bell rang and I had a visitor. This very dishy guy called Robert arrived, just as I'd planned it, and I feigned surprise. Cynthia said she should maybe go, but I said for her to stick around and the three of us could hang out a little bit. Hanging out with a guy as yummy looking as Robert would have made Cynthia's year, of course. It was obvious how much she fancied him -- poor girl's mouth fell open when he walked in.

Robert's a guy I was dating and sleeping with at the time and, like I say, he and I have planned this. Pretty evil plan too. Because what happens is that Rob and me "hang out" and poor old Cynth gets to watch us doing it. As per usual she can't leave for risk of "upsetting" me, so she has to play gooseberry. Has to sit there, not speaking unless spoken to, while I get busy with hunky Robert on the big sofa.

We ignore her for a long time while we kiss and smooch. When I finally do speak to the poor girl, it's just to order her to fix a couple of vodka drinks and bring them over to us. I'm treating her like she's my servant. My maid. Which she sort of is, let's be honest.

I do actually have a Maid by the way, a real one, who Daddy employed for me -- since he says he doesn't want his "Princess" (that's me -- giggle) lifting a finger with domestic chores -- but I don't have her there at weekends. She'd have only got in the way, in any case.
Cynthia does as she's told, brings us drinks.

"What do you make of this hunky boy then?" I ask her, me and Rob lounging on the sofa with our iced vodkas, her standing in front of us like a lemon. Rob, looking lush in jeans and tee shirt, has his muscular arm around me and I'm sexily stroking his thigh. That he has an erection is plain from the bulge in his jeans.

"Well?" I taunt, insisting the poor girl answers.

"He's nice, Amber," mumbles Cynthia.

"Hear that, Robert? My friend Cynth rather likes you."

Cynthia looks down, really embarrassed.

"Too bad. I'm only into gorgeous girls like you, Amber baby, you know that, I don't go with the dross," grunts Rob, not even looking up at the poor girl he's insulting.

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetie, that's cruel. Cyn just needs to lose a few pounds is all," I say.

"Mmm, and the rest. Plus a face transplant. Oh and maybe fix that skin," says Robert, getting into the swing now.

"Enough, Rob," I say, pretending for a second to be annoyed with him for being so horrible about how Cynthia looks. Only for a second though, because we're soon getting busy again.

Oh dear, Cynthia is crying now.

I giggle at the situation I've engineered, how unhappy she looks, and I stroke and squeeze Rob's erection through his jeans. He starts nibbling my ear and his hand snakes under my skirt.

"Oh yeah, baby," I moan, "that feels sooo good. Stroke me, Rob honey. Make me wet."

I wriggle a bit, let him slide my skirt and top off. I'm down to my knickers and Rob has one hand inside, the other fondling my breasts. I can feel how much he wants to fuck me, and that's good because my pussy is getting very wet and I want to fuck him too. Some further sport to be had with Cynthia, though, before we retire to the bedroom.

We keep the stroking and fondling up for a few minutes. Poor Cynth doesn't really want to stand there watching me and Rob get sexy on the sofa, but we're right under her nose and she pretty much has to.

Time for a long, passionate snog. We do this, then I look up at her and giggle. "Oh god Cyn, you really should get a boyfriend, you know. How can we double-date if you don't get a guy? Just imagine how great I'm feeling right now, making out with this hunky guy, knowing he's soon going to be taking me to bed and making love to me for hours and hours."

I'm taunting the wretched girl, getting off on that just as much as what Rob's doing to me.

"Look at him, Cyn. Totally yummy, isn't he?"

Cynthia, still crying, nods.

"And he's all mine. Aren't I the lucky girl, Cyn? Bet you wish you were me right now, don't you? Bet you wish we could trade places."

Not even a nod this time. Poor Cynth.

I'm far from finished. The next bit is going to be hilarious. Both me and Rob laughed like crazy people when I told him the previous night what was going to happen.

"Hey, I know," I said, grinning wickedly at her. "We can't trade places, because it's me Rob wants to fuck, but what about you help out? Get him ready for me, so to speak. I mean, I'm just about naked here but he's still got his pants and his shirt on. So how about he stands up and you remove his clothes for him. ALL his clothes, Cyn. You'll be able to see a hunky, naked man then, won't you? No touching of course, reserved for me, but you'll get a good look at the yummy male body I'm going to be enjoying when I take him off to bed. Yeah, I like that idea. Let's do it. I'll just sit over here and watch."

Rob and I both stood up and I sashayed over to the chair opposite in order to fully enjoy this spectacle.

And spectacle it was, believe me. Giggle. Rob raised his arms and Cynthia pulled his tee shirt up and over his head. He stood there topless, his tanned muscular torso flaunted before Cynthia. The poor girl was sexually excited, this much was clear from her heavy breathing.

"Hey Amber, Miss Ugly Duck is getting a bit leery here. Reckon she wants me herself."

I giggled. "Wait till she does the rest, baby. Poor girl has never been kissed, let alone fucked, so you can imagine what she's thinking."

I couldn't stop giggling now. The thought of how tantalising this must be for poor Cynthia was just hilarious.

"Oh just before you attack his pants, Cyn. I need a smoke. Can you fetch me a cigarette?"

Cynthia, showing how utterly in my power she was, got me one from the packet on the table and trotted over to give it to me. I opened my mouth, saying nothing, and taking the cue she slipped it between my lips.

"Now, here's a fifty note," I said, fishing another one out of my bag and holding it out to her. "You know what to do."

And I made her do what I'd done earlier. Light the note with the candle and use it to light my cigarette.

"You really shouldn't waste money like that, Cyn, you know," I mocked, blowing smoke into her face. "Whatever would your folks think?"

Cynthia coughed a bit but otherwise was mute. Couldn't speak, just kept on with the quiet sobbing. Music to my ears it was.

"The pants," I instructed.

So she took Rob's jeans off. Undid them and rolled them down his legs. It was funny because he had a button fly, so the poor girl had to undo each one. Not easy when the guy has a throbbing erection in there. Rob made it more difficult by gyrating his hips around. "Whoa she's getting involved with my cock, baby," he grinned over at me.

"No touching Cyn, remember?" I giggled. "His lovely big cock is only for me."

Cynthia finally got his jeans off, leaving Rob clad only in boxers. His erect cock was sticking straight up and protruding over the waistband. The guy was ready to fuck me, that was gratifyingly obvious.

Time for the next twist of the knife. "Cyn, with his boxers, use your teeth to get them off, okay? Kneel down in front of my hunky boyfriend and get those choppers working. Come on, you can do it."

And she did. Amazingly she did exactly this. She got down on her knees and started working Rob's boxers off with her teeth. God, it was an absolute scream to watch.

She had to alternate between front and back. Rob didn't assist by turning, so the poor girl kept moving around him, shuffling on her knees, working his pants down over his buttocks, coming round doing his crotch side, then back to his butt. I sat there watching the whole performance, giggling fit to burst. When she's on the rear section, she has his ass right in her face. Her nose is actually rubbing in between the cheeks half the time.

"She's a real arse bandit, this mate of yours, babe," Rob chuckled, pushing his naked ass back into her face, moving it around. Poor Cynth was almost asphyxiated at one point.

"Nice one baby," I giggled. "Mmm go on, make her smell your arsehole. Make her lick it too. Hey Cyn, I've changed my mind about no touching. You can lick Rob's ass for a while. Go on, you know you want to."

And so we had a few minutes of Rob standing there with his boxers pulled over his buttocks and Cynth kneeling down behind him, licking away at his arse. He farted a few times while she was at it and I just about fell off my chair with glee.

The front part was even funnier. Working down his pants meant his chunky cock was slapping in her face. Rob flipped it around from side to side, wiping his dick across Cynthia's nose and lips. I sat there giggling, egging him on. "Yeah that's right baby, show her that juicy dick of yours. Let her sniff it. Show her EXACTLY what I'm gonna be enjoying when you make love to me."

Rob's boxers finally fell to his ankles and he kicked them off, stood naked before the kneeling Cynthia.

I taunted the poor girl. "Do you like his cock, Cyn? Mmm lovely, isn't it? Can you imagine how DIVINE it's going to feel inside me? God, you wish you were me instead of you, don't you? You wish you were a pretty girl, with a rich doting Daddy, a girl who gets to have any man she wants and fuck him in her fabulous apartment. I mean, look what's happening here. I get to make love with Rob in my nice, big, comfy bed and you get a quick look at his cock and a few minutes licking his butt. Life is just sooo not fair."

I got up and walked over to them.

"You may as well take my knickers off too, Cyn. You know, finish the job. I need to be naked for my hunky boyfriend. On your knees and with your teeth again, I'm afraid."

And I made the poor girl do me too, stood there giggling while she pulled away at my little silk panties with her mouth. They came off quite easy, slipped down to my ankles. "That's great Cyn," I giggled, looking down and not kicking them off myself. "But they're not quite off, are they? Get right down and do it properly. Still with your mouth. Yeah, good girl, that's it."

Cynthia was prostrate at my feet now, trying to manouveur the panties off. Which she couldn't because I wasn't raising my feet to let her. Rob was back on the sofa, laughing his face off.

I kept the wretched girl doing this for quite some time. Just basically slobbering around my feet, but unable to take the panties off.

"It's like I'm an Empress, isn't it?" I giggled. "Like I'm a beautiful Empress with her very own foot servant. That's you, Cyn, by the way. You're my little servant, working away down there, aren't you? Aw, poor Cynth. This is cruel of me, isn't it? Not letting you get them off. Listen, I need to hurry up, I'm ready to take my hunk to bed. So, why don't you ask me very nicely to allow you to get my panties off, then I'll let you. Come on Cyn, ask me really nicely."

"Ppplease Amber," she beseeched, looking up at me rather pathetically.

"Please what, Cyn? Come on, you have to say the whole thing. I want you to BEG your Empress to allow you to take her little silk panties off, so she can go fuck her big hunky boyfriend. Go on, beg exactly that. Then I'll let you take them off and we can go to the bedroom."

"Please Empress Amber, PLEASE let me get your panties off, so you can go and fuck your big hunky boyfriend."

"My what panties?"

"Sorry Empress, your little silk panties."

This scene summed up my relationship with poor Cynthia quite beautifully. Here she is grovelling at my feet, calling me "Empress", and plus she's saying sorry. She's apologising to the girl who's torturing her. And the thing is, I know she's so pathetic that come Monday at the office, it'll be business as usual. She'll be in floods of tears about this when she gets home tonight, but next week I'll be back to being her superior, condescending "friend".

I'm loving every minute of it, needless to say, being as I'm such a Bad Girl.

I raise my feet in turn and gaze down giggling at the pathetic sight of Cynthia, prostrate, pulling my knickers off with her teeth. She succeeds and has them safely off and in her mouth. I tell her to stay in this position and I sit down on the sofa next to Robert, both of us fully naked. Rob is laughing like a drain. His cock is rock hard, he's really turned on by the whole scenario. So am I, my pussy is wet and my nipples are hard as his dick.

"Come on Amber babe, stop pissing around with what's-her-face, I wanna fuck you," he grins wolfishly, and fingers his big juicy cock.

"Dumpster," I giggle. "That's what the boys at work call her. The Dumpster."

"Whatever, baby. So stop pissing around with little Miss Dumpster here and let's you and me fuck. I wanna make love to you, gorgeous."

I grin down at Cynthia who's lying curled up on the floor with my panties in her mouth. It's a funny sight.

"God Cyn, the guy wants me REAL bad, doesn't he? He desires me, Cynthia. This dishy guy is crazy with desire for me. Do you know how lovely it feels for a girl to be desired by a sexy, young hunk like Rob? Don't worry Cyn, I know you don't. I'll describe it for you sometime. I'll tell you EXACTLY how delicious it feels. What are friends for, right?"

Cynthia has started snivelling again.

"And we ARE still friends, Cynth, aren't we? Please say we are. Oh sorry, guess you can't talk with my panties in your mouth. Just nod or shake your head."

She nods.

"Yeah, course we are," I giggle gleefully. Rob is stroking my pussy and I'm groaning with pleasure, all the time taunting poor Cynthia. "Mmm, look what he's doing to me, Cyn. Oh god it feels soooo good. This is what they call foreplay, Cynth. It's when a hunky guy like Rob gets a very attractive girl like me all turned on, before he fucks her. He's getting my pussy dripping wet and ready for his big hard cock. Oh god Cyn, I don't know which I like best, the foreplay or the fuck. Or maybe AFTER even. That's real nice too, Cynth. Just lying there in bed, being lazily intimate and affectionate with a hunky man, feeling all satisfied, after a great fuck. Hey look, you don't mind me having all the fun here while you only get to watch, do you? You have to keep my knickers in your mouth so, you know, just nod or shake. It's okay watching me make out with a hunky guy, Cyn, isn't it?"

Cynthia nods her head. She looks quite sad now. Still sobbing slightly.

"You do look ridiculous down there, Cynthia," I giggle. "Why don't you get up? No, not all the way up, I don't mean that. Just on your hands and knees, kind of like a dog. Yeah right, like that. Face this way though. You need to be looking at the Empress and her hunk. Yeah, good girl. Excellent. Hey and keep those panties in your mouth. If you drop them I'll be annoyed. The Empress will be annoyed, Cyn, and we don't want this, do we?"

She shakes her head. Jeez, she's pathetic.

"Pretend they're like a bone or something," I giggle. "Seeing as you're impersonating a dog."

"Stupid cow," sniggers Rob.

"Bitch," I correct him. "Girl dogs are called bitches."

"Stupid bitch then," grins Rob. "I prefer sexy looking bitches like you, Ambs baby, I have to say."

I giggle. A cruel and sexy little bitch is DEFINITELY what I am. I look at Rob's cock and gently stroke it, loving how it feels. I lick my lips suggestively. I can hardly wait to go to bed with him.

In fact, I decide to wait no longer. "Come on sugar, let's go fuck," I say to Robert and we get up and walk off naked to my bedroom. "You follow, Cyn," I call back and she scampers after us on her hands and knees, knickers in mouth. I feel SO imperious at this point. Imperious and very beautiful.

I make Cynthia kneel by the bed, so she'll get a great view of everything me and Rob get up to. I order her to put her arms behind her back, to get my knickers right the way in her mouth and keep them there. Then we ignore her. We fuck for a couple of hours at least -- a fast and furious one, lazy interlude for chatting, bit of me sucking his dick and him nibbling my pussy and fondling my tits, then something very long and very slow -- with poor, sex starved Cynthia kneeling there watching, forbidden to move a muscle. I'm being made passionate love to in my bed by a hunky guy, right in front of the poor, helpless cow. I love that she sees all the sexy things Rob does to me (and I do to him) and that she hears me purring with pleasure, screaming in ecstasy. I'm in Bad Girl heaven.

We ignore her until we're finished - even when chatting between fucks, it's like she isn't there. Then finally what we do, me and Rob, is we lie in bed and we just stare and laugh at the poor girl for ages. Make out like she's the funniest and most ridiculous thing we've ever seen. Which she is, let's be honest. We laugh at her till the tears are falling down our faces. And hers too, though for very different reasons. I've humiliated her beyond belief and enjoyed every second of it. Don't you just love it when a plan comes together? Giggle.

"You can go home now, Cynth," I say, finally. She extracts my panties from her mouth, puts them on the bed, and struggles to her feet. I sense she feels deeply shamed that she's allowed me to treat her like this, and that pleases me.

She shuffles off.

"Hey, close the door on your way out," I order.

"See you Monday, Cyn," I giggle, as she leaves.

Me and Rob are in hysterics.

I decide to phone Tiffany later when Rob's gone ... Tiff's my REAL best friend ... and tell her all about this. She'll love it.

(5) GIRLY LUNCH

Any case, back to those girly lunches I was telling you about. I always pay, which I don't mind since it only re-enforces my effortless superiority. We spend a couple of hours at the restaurant, me looking as hot and delicious as the food and Cynth looking dowdy as hell. I feel totally at ease, being a very pretty and sophisticated girl who's used to such places, and she feels about as significant and comfortable as a worm in a bucket.

She hardly gets to say anything the whole time we're there because when I'm not flirting madly with the handsome young waiters, I'm regaling her with salacious stories about the various hunky men in my life. In particular, I take great pleasure in giving her chapter and verse on the red hot weekends I enjoy with Paul and Mario.

Paul and Mario? Ah yes, haven't told you about them yet, have I? Later. Giggle. (I'll tell you more about my gorgeous friend Tiffany too.)

Point is, I really do rub it in, how much sexy fun I've got going on with dishy men when she, poor cow, has a big fat zero. I tell her about the guys I'm dating, also those I'm not dating but who are pestering to take me out. I tell her all about the expensive presents I've been given. I tell her which of the guys I'm dating I'm also sleeping with (and I rate their bed prowess on a scale of 1 to 10) and which ones I'm just teasing and leading on, allowing to spend oodles of money on me before I dump them. I do this a lot with older guys. Like Roger. I'll fill you in on that particular (very funny) story in a minute.

I also like to do patronising stuff like asking her "advice" on how to fend off the attentions of guys who I'm fed up with, and I show her photos of various hunky numbers who I know Cynthia will fancy like crazy. Then I pretend to be interested when she stutters something meant to be helpful.

As if.

Like I say, rubbing her face in it.

Not as much as with the episode in my flat with Rob (that was a one-off, she's never been invited back) but still, tormenting Cynthia with what a great life I have is something I ALWAYS enjoy doing.

(6) AMBER DUMPS THE BOSS

I do DEFINITELY lead guys on, I do that a lot - make them think they have a chance, string them along. Specially older guys, as I say. My boss for example, Roger, who's pretty senior at the company, and who got the hots for his sexy young secretary (that's me) something rotten. Course every guy there has the hots for me (giggle), but Roger got it particularly bad. Guess it's quite frustrating for a middle-aged guy, having to look at a sexy young girl all day every day, Monday to Friday. Wife and children, all of that, but it made no difference to him -- still desperate to get into MY knickers. No dice obviously, and I've blown him out now, but it was fun to keep him dangling for a while. Giggle. Yeah, poor guy, I toyed with him for ages.

He thought he was getting somewhere with me because I let him take me out to fancy restaurants. You should see the size of the bills I ran up. Giggle. Not as if he's filthy rich, either. Like I say, he's senior management in the company but he's not paid a fortune or anything. I'm the one who's filthy rich. All the more amusing how he was spending all this money on me. Giggle. Our last "date", he presented me with this necklace which cost him thousands. Told me he'd used the money he was going to buy his wife an anniversary present with. Guess she had to make do with something cheap and cheerful -- a pair of tights or something. Can you believe it?

Well not my fault, is it? Guys can spend their dough how they want, and old Roger wanted to spend it on a luscious 19 year old girl who he thought he might have a chance of bedding.

He sure thought he had a chance that night, I can tell you. "Here Amber darling," he said, proudly showing me this necklace as we sat down to dinner. "Ooo honey!" I cooed, all soft and seductive. I let him drape it round my neck and it snuggled nicely into my cleavage. I always wore a very low-cut dress for dinner dates with Roger ... it amused me how he drooled over my tits ... and this evening was no exception. Every so often, during dinner, I'd fondle and stroke the necklace, knowing full well it made poor Roger think all the more about doing exactly this with my naked breasts. With ALL of me, let's face it.
Any case, he really was drooling that night -- guess it was the combination of the necklace and my semi exposed breasts -- and something about this, plus the way he was blabbing on about how I was SO much younger and prettier than his wife, how much he wanted to make love to me, something about all this made me feel particularly naughty. So I let him carry on embarrassing himself for a while, flirty smile on my face, and then I suggested he take me to a club after dinner and after that ... "Who knows?" I grinned, "Back to my place, maybe." Hinting very strongly that tonight was (finally!) his lucky night. God, you should have seen the desire and expectation all over his face. It was hilarious. Giggle.

It was even more hilarious at the club. Once Roger had paid us in and set us up with plenty of high end champagne, he put his hand on my thigh and asked me to dance. I said no, pushed his hand away, and after that I completely ignored him. Worse, what I did was I made a point of flirting with the guys at the next table. There were three of them -- young and dishy -- and I took turns dancing with each one, dancing very sexily, while Roger sat there stewing. The guy I fancied the most, called Paul, I ended up inviting over to our table and we started kissing and smooching right in front of Roger. "This is Paul, Rog," I giggled. "Isn't he lush?" Poor Roger was furious, I could see that, but too humiliated to do anything. There were tears in his eyes when he left. I told Paul how Roger was my boss at work, how I'd been teasing the poor sap for months, and we both fell about laughing. Whole thing made me extremely horny and so I went back to Paul's later and we fucked all night.

(7) AMBER AND TIFFANY AT THE CLUB

I'm still seeing Paul as a matter of fact, and his equally dishy friend Mario. They come over to my place most weekends to pamper and make love to me. Two dreamy looking boys just for me -- giggle.

I have just as yummy a time at weekends as I do at work.

As well as Paul and Mario, I hang out with my friend Tiffany. As I told you, she's a true friend, it's not like with Cynthia. Tiffany is 19, same as me, and we have loads in common -- she's also spoilt rotten by her extremely rich Daddy and she's also a very beautiful, sexy looking girl (nearly as hot as I am, in fact).

Tiff and I go out on Fridays to mess around with boys. We go to a club, both of us looking gorgeous and incredibly fuckable in our revealing little dresses, and we tease the boys' brains out. Giggle. We flirt and dance all night, inflaming boys, letting them chase after us -- and they do, believe me, they DO chase after us. We have great fun leading them on, generally toying with them.

The ones who aren't very dishy, it's a case of "look but don't touch". We'll deliberately torment a bunch of not-very-good-looking guys by dancing sexily right in front of where they're standing or sitting. You should see how they ogle us, poor things - Giggle. If any of them get up the courage to approach us, rather than stay just watching and drooling, we crush them with contemptuous put downs. Tiffany is great at this. She's SUCH a bitch. Giggle.

Dishy ones we let buy us a drink, have a flirty chat with them and a dance or two ... maybe even a short smooch if they're VERY dishy ... before we say, "Sorry boys, some other time maybe."

We have a good laugh about it, me and Tiffany, all these poor boys getting to go home horny and frustrated. We know they'll be beating off later, still thinking about us, how hot and sexy we looked at the club, teasing on the dance floor in our skimpy "Look at me, Boys" outfits.

Both of us reckon it's probably worse (giggle) for the more dishy ones, the ones we've flirted and played around a bit with.

With a really dishy boy, like I say, they sometimes get to have a smooch. We kiss them, push our hot bodies into theirs, get their cock so hard we can feel it rubbing against our bellies. We keep this up till they're just about to erupt in their pants, before we pull away, giggling that we've got boyfriends and so no, we can't go home with them or meet up tomorrow. Couple of times we've amused ourselves by going so far with this wriggling up close routine, either on the dance floor or at a table, sitting on their laps, that they DO explode in their pants. This can be quite hilarious because they get extremely embarrassed about it and have to run off home trying to hide the mess.

Course, me and Tiffany are well known at all the clubs as being cockteasers, just out to torture guys, but we're so gorgeous it makes no difference -- the boys still chase and drool, they can't help it.

Giggle.

We have SUCH a good time, we really do. Sometimes, we tease the whole club -- the guys, anyway -- by doing a girl-on-girl thing. We know how most guys get massively turned on by seeing two hot girls making out and so that's what we do, Tiff and me, we pretend to be an item for the evening. We kiss and smooch while we're dancing, get very sexy with each other, and then we carry on doing it at our table, not letting any boy join us, no matter how dishy. We always end up with half the guys in the club kind of just following us around, watching. It's a scream.

The girls at the club are super jealous of us, obviously, and we love this too. We sometimes hit the floor and deliberately go dance next to a couple of mingers -- Cynthia types - to make them look and feel REALLY bad. They see how all the boys are ogling us, as we giggle, pout, groove around, while they're not getting even a single look. They usually flee the floor and back to their table in no time. Giggle.

One time we were REALLY wicked -- Tiffany's idea actually -- was when we spotted this pair of unattractive girls (not mingers exactly, but rather plain and dumpy) who were dancing with their boyfriends. The boys weren't dishy but they weren't horrible looking either and what we did, me and Tiff, is we "stole" them from these two girls. We went and danced next to the four of them and we started giving the two boys these sexy little "come on" looks and glances. It was too much for the poor saps -- they'd never been even close to getting anywhere with girls as great looking as us before -- and even though they were with their girlfriends, they started really flirting back. Giggle.

Tiff and I carried on dancing and flirting with the two boys. We stepped it up, moved closer, started flirting quite heavily, made the guys think we fancied them like mad -- As If - and soon we were dancing kind of WITH them, these boys, with their girlfriends getting ignored. We pulled the boys off a little way across the floor and carried on grooving with them, girlfriends left isolated now and shuffling pathetically around on their own. Humiliated and upset, they went back to their table, hoping their boyfriends would stop dancing with me and Tiff and rejoin them. No chance -- giggle -- because the next number was a slow one and we made it obvious to the boys they could have a slow, sexy smooch with us if they wanted to.

They did want to.

We manoeuvred the guys over to the edge of the floor, very close to the table where their girlfriends were sitting stewing, and we had the sexiest, smoochy dance you can imagine with their boyfriends. You should have seen the poor girls' faces. So totally upset and jealous.

When it was over, the boys suggested we all sit down.

"What about your girlfriends, poor things," giggled Tiff.

The boys just shrugged. They were so into us now, we'd got them so inflamed and horny for us, they didn't care.

"Looks like these hunky guys have got the major hots for us, Ambs," she grinned at me. "Should we go sit with them, do you think?"

"Why not?" I giggled.

And so we did. We let the boys take us by the hand and lead us to their table.

"Hey girls, don't mind if Amber and I join you, do you?" smirked Tiffany. The girls were so humiliated by what was happening, they couldn't speak. They got kind of shuffled off to the side and Tiff and I got comfortable with their boyfriends. The "theft" was totally complete now. They were all ours. It was hilarious.

Giggle.

So we start chatting and making out with these boys there at the table, right in front of their poor girlfriends.

I find out my one's been going out with this girl for ages -- they're serious, she wants to marry him and stuff -- and knowing this makes the situation even more amusing.

I snog her boyfriend's face off, this guy she loves and wants to marry, while she sits there in floods of tears. Poor cow. The other girl's sobbing too because Tiffany is doing the same thing with her one.

I see Tiffany is not just kissing her boy, she's got her hand down between his legs and she's rubbing and squeezing his cock through his pants. I start doing this to my boy too. Before long we've got these boys trembling and shaking and about to cum in their trousers. We tease for a while -- torture the poor, horny boys by continually stopping just before we feel they're about to cum -- but then finally, and in unison, we push them over the edge. We give them that one squeeze too many and they both cum. They shudder and explode right there, a mess of spunk erupting inside their pants. It's obvious what's happened -- their girlfriends know too -- and this is when Tiffany and I leave. "See you boys," we giggle, and we sashay off to get our coats and go home.

We're in hysterics. The thought of the two jerks sat there with ruined pants, trying to placate their girlfriends and maybe make up with them, has us giggling like crazy for the rest of the night, and for most of the following day when me meet up again and go shopping.

Shopping with Tiffany on a Saturday is another of my weekend treats. Paul and Mario usually come to take me out in the evening, so I get the day to hit the shops with Tiff. We spend oodles of our Daddies' money on whatever we want. Clothes of course -- giggle -- but also stuff like manicures and pedicures and makeup, sexy new haircuts, lunch somewhere expensive and yummy, all girly stuff like that. We even buy ourselves jewellery sometimes, even though we both get given loads of it by older men who we're teasing and stringing along (you listening, Rog? -- giggle).

Yeah, I love hanging out with Tiff, she's great fun. Over lunch we compare notes about Bad Girl stuff -- have a good giggle about all the wicked things I've done recently, or she's done, or that we've done together -- like the stunt we pulled at the club, the one I've just told you about. I like to describe some of the ways I've been torturing poor Cynthia, and Tiffany -- who's quite a bitch -- always comes up with a few great new ideas for me. It was her who thought up the office "Prettiest Girl" contest, for example ... I'll tell you guys about that later, it's a total and utter scream.

Tiffany doesn't work, she's quite lazy, but she told me once what her dream job would be - it was hilarious. Tiff said she'd like to be in charge of a high security male prison. She'd enforce a no-jerking-off rule, so the inmates were kept in a constant state of sexual frustration, and then she'd wander round the place wearing almost nothing. "Can you imagine, Ambs?", she giggled. "Teasing all these poor guys who've been locked up for years, and who can't even beat off. Be the ultimate."

I had to agree, thinking about it, and we spent the rest of that lunch swapping the various fiendish ways in which we'd torture the prisoners. Tiff's favourite was to have one manacled naked to a wall, and do a slow, sexy striptease in front of him, make his cock go rock hard. Then she'd rub her naked body up against his, fondle his cock and his balls ... just generally drive the poor guy WILD but never quite allow him to cum. Keep it up for hours.

She's great, Tiffany.

I also tell her about Paul and Mario and the sexy things we get up to, the three of us, and Tiff pretends to be "jealous" although of course she's not - she's got plenty of dishy guys of her own, who she sleeps with whenever she's feeling horny and wants to be fucked. That's an amusing satirical thing we often do actually, Tiff and I, we pretend to be jealous of each other ... what we're really doing, when we joke around like this, is we're mocking all the girls who we know and who ARE jealous of us, all the ones who aren't young and very pretty and fabulously rich.

(8) TERRIBLE TIFF TORMENTS THE TRAMPS

After lunch, we stoll to our cars (no bags or anything tedious like that -- all our shopping gets delivered) and drive back to our respective apartments. We have matching sports cars -- VERY expensive ones -- with personalised plates, mine says "AMBER HOT" and hers says "TIFF XXX". We look sooo cool and gorgeous as we're driving along in them.

Sometimes we take a short detour, drive to this really rundown place where there's always a load of yucky, homeless guys slouching around. When we get there ... "AMBER HOT" following just behind "TIFF XXX" ... we stop, but stay in our cars, and Tiffany winds her window down and she tosses a load of fifty pound notes onto the pavement. Reason she does this is these down-and-outs -- who're totally penniless -- then end up scrabbling around on the floor, fighting FURIOUSLY amongst themselves for the money. They punch and slap and kick, really tear lumps off each other, to get their hands on the cash. It's very amusing, especially if it's a windy day and the notes are blowing all over the place, and me and Tiff can just sit in our cars, watching and laughing.

She doesn't ALWAYS throw money out, by the way. Sometimes we drive up to the guys -- who get all excited when they see our cars, obviously -- and she stops, winds her window down, just grins at them for a while. I'm grinning too because it's funny. She gives them nothing at all and we get to savour the disappointment on their grizzled and deprived faces. Then we drive off, giggling.

Or she just tosses a few coins out, or maybe only a couple of notes, or she throws out something which isn't money at all -- a pair of her scented silk panties, perhaps, or half a luxury chocolate bar, or something equally useless to the poor guys. Whatever. The tramps never know what's coming, is the point -- Tiffany's way of toying with them.

Few times, Tiff's really mean and she torments these old tramps by SHOWING them a big wad of cash ... offering it out of the window ... and then, as they rush to her car, snatching it away at the last moment. She pulls it back inside and winds the window back up. They can see the money but can't get at it, poor guys. Tiff really teases them with the cash, holds it up against the closed window, giggling and blowing kisses, as they bang uselessly away at the heavy glass. She puts the stash against her nose, sniffs and kisses and flicks through it, makes a big deal of counting it out on her lap ... makes sure they can tell it's a really LARGE amount ... and then she waves goodbye and drives away, me following.

Once -- and this is a killer -- she does all this tantalising-the-tramps-with-the-money stuff and then, before she drives off, she slowly tears it up into little pieces which fall all over her and the inside of her car. Can you imagine? These guys are the poorest of the poor and there's Tiffany destroying all this cash (there's thousands of pounds there) right under their noses. God I almost died when she did that, it was so funny. Some of these poor old tramps were so distressed, they were actually sobbing.

Another time -- and this was MY idea (giggle), although Tiff got to do it 'cos torturing tramps is something she really gets off on, I'm happy to just watch -- she dangled the money out (a big stash) and she made all these old wrecks dance for her in order to get it. God, it was a scream to see. She put her car stereo on and got them to pretend to be in a disco, made them groove around and smooch with each other. "Yeah trampies, go on, dance for me," she's giggling. "Let's see some snogging going down. Come on, tongues in, I wanna see some REAL snogging, wanna see you trampies getting sexy." She keeps them at it for ages, then she just drops a single fiver out the window and we drive off, giggling and waving back.

One of the funniest things ever.

We talk on our car phones after this, as we're driving home, and Tiffany is in hysterics. "Great idea, Ambs babe," she says. "That was fucking hilarious."

"Yeah, well ... they'll do anything you say, Tiff, if you show them the money," I giggle. "Poor bastards."

"Mmm. Gives me an evil idea for next time," says Tiff.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, what I'll do, Ambs, is I'll show them a really big wedge of cash and then I'll point out that really weedy, ill looking one ..."

"Oh god him, yeah, real mess," I chuckle.

"Right babe," she carries on ... "and I'll get the rest of them to beat the crap out of him. Tell 'em if they gang up and beat that poor little old guy till he's half dead, I'll give them the money. D'you reckon they will?"

"Yeah Tiff, they will. They'll do it. For sure they will," I say.

And I was right.

Bad Girls, me and Tiffany, aren't we?

Giggle.

(9) PAUL AND MARIO

I get home, sign for the shopping -- leave it for the Maid to unpack and put away on Monday -- and then it's pretty much time for Paul and Mario.

They come round, looking super dishy, and they take me out to a yummy restaurant for dinner. They wear suits and I put on a glam sexy dress, all three of us look fabulous. The pair of them are totally attentive and adoring to me all through dinner ... they pour my wine, make sure I'm happy with my food, pay me compliments, flirt outrageously with me ... and I always have a great time. It's funny to see the envy on the faces of some of the women in the restaurant, sitting there with their old, grim looking husbands, looking at me being wined and dined by these two incredibly handsome young guys.

I love it -- giggle.

Paul and Mario are utterly in love with me, is the thing. And because they are so AMAZINGLY dishy, I'm happy to bask in their adoration and let them spoil, pamper and make love to me as much as they want.

I treat them the same -- flirting equally with them at dinner, for example, and later, when we get back to my apartment, I take them BOTH to bed and give them my sexy, female attention. Neither gets left out. I have considered being mean (since I CAN be quite mean, as you know), doing stuff like flirting loads more with one than the other ... also maybe allowing only one of them to fuck me, while the other I just tease ... but I decided against it because I like it the way it is. They're as drop-dead handsome as each other and I don't have a favourite.

Tiffany says she WOULD definitely mess around like that if it were her -- she'd fuck one and make the other jealous, keep reversing roles so they'd never know what to expect or quite where they stood with her, make them get down and beg if they wanted to both sleep with her at the same time.

But, you know, that's just Tiff ... she really is the world's biggest bitch. You should hear some of the stuff she comes out with about ways we ought to torture Gerald the Geek in the office. It's great news for poor Gerald that Tiff doesn't work there, I can tell you. Tiffany is EVIL, she truly is. Giggle.

My favourite time of the weekend -- the whole week really -- is waking up on Sunday with these two hunky guys, Paul and Mario, naked in my bed. I've been fucked senseless for half the night by both of them and now ... 2 o'clock in the afternoon or something ... I wake up and I feel quite simply delicious. I'm completely satisfied, sexually and in every way, and the next few hours are going to bring yet more delightful, sexy pampering. They'll wait on me hand and foot.

We'll just lounge around naked in my big bed for a while, me and the two boys, chatting and joking around. Maybe I'll play with their cocks a little bit, if I feel sexy.
They'll fix me a yummy snack and bring it to me in bed. When I've eaten it, I'll stretch out on the bed and they'll give me a long, slow, very sexy massage. I lie there and I luxuriate in the sensation of four strong male hands stroking and rubbing and fondling every inch of my body. It's just divine.

After my massage, I'm ready to be made love to again -- nice and slowly -- and they take turns to service me. I don't have to do anything for this (it's not like during the night, when I do all sorts of slutty things to their cocks and other parts), I simply lie back and enjoy.

Then it's my bath. The boys help with that too, of course. Mmm.

As they leave on Sunday evening ... they tuck me into my bed and softly kiss me goodnight ... "see you next weekend, Amber darling", they whisper ... I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

(10) EMPRESS AMBER

So, that's my weekends at the moment. Giggle.

And Monday to Friday? The office? How's this looking now?

Well, things went downhill fast for Roger after the night I blew him off. Next day in the office, I turned up for work wearing the necklace he'd given me. It was like a trophy. Also a way of reminding him how I'd humiliated him in the club. I wore a really REALLY low-cut top, instead of the usual blouse, and I dispensed with a bra.

He came in looking sheepish, but when he saw his necklace nestling between my fabulous tits he brightened up because he got the wrong idea. Stupid jerk thought it maybe meant I regretted what I'd done, that he and I might still be on. As if.

We had a little chat in his room and I straightened him out. Told him he'd better watch his step from now on, else I'd tell his wife how he'd been chasing after a gorgeous young girl at work, buying her expensive presents and stuff. And I'd tell the whole office about how I'd been teasing and leading him on, just for a giggle, make him a laughing stock around the place.

He soon got the picture, even though he's theoretically my boss.

What we agreed was he could carry on in his job, but that from now on he'd stay in his room the whole time, do his own typing etc. Meantime, I'd get to be in charge of the general office -- the big room where me and Cynth, plus Dean, Donny, and the rest of the guys hung out. And Gerald the Geek, of course, let's not forget Gerald.

Roger sent an email to this effect. Set it all up for me.

It's worked out perfectly. We never see Roger (or indeed anyone else from the company, since our department is pretty self-contained) and it leaves me ruling the roost in the office. I can do absolutely anything I want. Giggle. Think I told you I have a great time at work, didn't I? Well now, since this new arrangement we agreed a couple of months ago, it's doubly great.

First thing I did, after getting Roger to authorise it, was call everyone together and tell them I was making some job and salary changes. All the guys would get a 50% rise, I announced, except for Dean and Donny, who were getting a 100% rise on account of being quite dishy. Oh and also except for Gerald, who I officially demoted to the newly created role of "General Dogsbody", with corresponding 50% pay cut. Cynthia -- or "Dumpster" as I referred to her (since I decided to drop the whole charade of pretending to be her friend, now I was in charge) -- Dumpster would be my Personal Assistant, a promotion of sorts but no pay rise. Whether she suffered a pay CUT or not would depend on how she performed. I reserved the right to slash her money if she displeased me in any way. I gave myself the title of Empress (and a 200% pay rise even though, as you know, I don't need the money), but said only Cynthia and Gerald had to call me this, the guys could keep calling me Amber as usual, or ... and I winked at Dean and Donny, as I said this ... just "Gorgeous" would do. New names for Cyn and Gerald too -- everybody to call them Dumpster and Geek from now on. These are no longer their nicknames, I said, these are their actual NAMES as far as here's concerned.

So, yeah, pretty cool uh?

(11) POOR LITTLE GERALD

And I really AM a Bad Girl at the office now.

I can do whatever I like, so I totally indulge myself. I wear exactly what I feel like wearing is one thing, and what I always feel like wearing is something very very sexy. I drove the guys crazy before, of course, but now I REALLY do. Giggle. I stuck with the skirt blouse combo for a while, but my skirts got very short and my blouses extremely revealing. Then I started to mix it up, wearing dresses sometimes -- short, figure hugging ones -- or super tight jeans with scanty little cropped tops which show off my sexy belly. I never bother with a bra, I like to make sure my tits are presented to maximum effect, which means cleavage showing and nipples straining against flimsy material. Now summer's here, I swan around the office wearing not much at all ... just a teeny weeny little sun dress mostly.

The drooling guys just can't take their eyes off me (giggle) and I love it.

The guys are happy enough too. I tease and flirt with them the whole time and I've given them all (except Gerald the Geek ... or General Dogsbody, rather) permission to ogle me as much as they want, also to get their cocks out and jerk off whenever my teasing sexiness gets too much for them. Only stipulation is they ask me first and, when I ask why they need to beat off, they say it's because of how hot and sexy I'm looking.

They adore me and shower me with compliments, which I lap up. Giggle. Dean and Donny especially adore me because I sometimes have a little smooch with them. I kiss and semi make out with them when I'm in the mood, let them take turns to snog me, feel me up a little bit -- you know, put their hand up my dress, fondle my tits, squeeze my ass. It's a bit like with Paul and Mario except Dean and Donny don't get to fuck me, they just get this smoochfest followed by jerking themselves off. It's a jerk off deluxe, as it were.

Different with Gerald, of course. Gerald doesn't adore me at all. His life at the office was a misery before, what with being badly bullied by Dean and Donny ever since the thing I told you about, but now I'm in charge, now I've made him official "General Dogsbody" who everyone must call Geek, things are truly grim for him.

He doesn't, for example, get to flirt with me and pay me compliments and jerk off when ogling me gets too much. What HE has to do is clean the guys cocks when they're finished. Giggle. With tissues usually, but sometimes -- if I decide -- with his mouth. Dean especially likes to have Gerald lick his dick clean, so I tend to indulge him in that unless I'm feeling mean. If I'm feeling mean, I tell Gerald to use a tissue on him. You should see Dean's face when I do that -- sooo disappointed, poor guy.

This is the least of poor Gerald's problems, though -- cleaning the other guys post jerk off dicks -- this is quite pleasant compared to a lot of what happens to him on a typical day. He has to call me Empress, as you know, and that's appropriate because my power is absolute when it comes to how he gets persecuted. Not that I come up with all the ideas for tormenting him -- I don't (although I have some very good ones, Giggle) -- but it's because I allow and encourage the others to do whatever they want with him. I just observe and giggle, join in when I feel like it. It's more fun that way, I find.

Poor Gerald. He's our torture toy, basically.

Like yesterday, first thing in the morning, I said to the guys I felt Geek deserved a rough day and did anyone have any bright ideas?

I grinned over at Gerald who was in his usual place -- standing on a stool in the middle of the room. The deal is he stays on the stool except when doing things which require otherwise. Like his cock cleaning duties, for example. It's a good place to keep him because it means he's easily accessible to torment. Also he's in full view of everyone at all times, so we can stare and laugh at him throughout the day.

He has a sick look on his face, I'm amused to see. The poor guy can tell I'm in a playful mood and he knows he's going to suffer. Giggle.

"You okay, Geek?" I smirk.

"Yes, Empress," he replies, as he has to.

"And tell me, Geek, am I looking utterly gorgeous today in this short, skimpy, very revealing dress?"

"Yes, Empress Amber," says Gerald.

He's right -- Giggle. I'm wearing a dress which shows off my luscious body to the max. I'm perched up on my desk at the front of the room, legs on show and teasingly crossed, facing the guys -- my favourite position for when I hold court in the office.

"So, come on boys ... ideas? It's a competition. Whoever comes up with the stuff I like most can rub some sun lotion on my legs for me."

A lot of hands shoot up. Quelle Surprise.

"Oh hang on, maybe I better check with my Personal Assistant first," I grin, looking down at Cynthia who is kneeling in front of me, busily engaged in painting and manicuring my toenails.

"That okay with you, Dumpy? I know rubbing lotion into me is YOUR job but just this once we let one of the boys do it?"

"Yes, Empress," says Cynthia. I have her well trained now. She does and says absolutely anything I tell her to.

"Okay let's hear it. Larry, you first. You have something nice and evil?"

I go round the room, giving everyone a chance to give their ideas for torturing Gerald the Geek today. There's some pretty cruel stuff in there and it's fun to watch poor Gerald's face as he listens to it all. Giggle. Poor guy is petrified.

I decide to make Dean the winner. His ideas are indeed good but the main reason I go with him is he's looking easily the most dishy of the guys today and I want him to be the one who rubs cream into my legs. He celebrates by strolling over to Gerald, prodding him in the stomach. "Hey Geeky, hear that? Gonna have some fun today, aren't we?" Gerald flinches and starts to whimper, which gets people sniggering.

"So, Gorgeous," Dean grins at me. "When do I get to rub this cream into those sexy legs of yours?"

I favour him with a flirty pout. "Oh I dunno, Hunky, the best treats are worth waiting for, I always think," I tease. "Let's see, half hour or so? The Dumpster needs to finish with my nails first. I'll let you know."

Dean chuckles. "Can't wait, Gorgeous." The others are very jealous of him right now. They'll be even more jealous later, when he's getting to massage and fondle my fabulous legs.

Gerald carries on snivelling as Dean and I talk. To say he's not looking forward to the rest of the day is a serious understatement. Still, when does he ever? I'm telling you about yesterday but it was nothing special. Typical day at the office, really -- amusing ourselves with Gerald is routine. With Cynthia too, her life isn't much better than his now she's reduced to being my "Personal Assistant", for which read SLAVE. Poor Dumpster. Bet she longs for the days of me as her much prettier and very condescending "friend" -- the girly lunches and all that. I'm far more beastly to her now, and I don't even pretend I don't enjoy it.

Gerald wants to go to the bathroom and he asks my permission (as he and Cynthia always have to). I consider it, then I grin and say no. I smirk and tell him if he wants a pee (he nods that he does ... mumbles how he's "desperate"), he can do it right there, standing on the stool. In his pants. Outbreak of amusement at this. "Geek's gonna wet himself," the boys start chanting, and after a couple of minutes he does. He pees himself. The growing stain on the front of his trousers tells the story and we all laugh at his shame and humiliation. Poor guy.

(12) AMBS ARRANGES THINGS

I tell Cynthia to take a break from my pedicure, but stay right where she is and not move an inch, while I pop along and check on Roger in his room. I like to do this now and again so he stays aware of how sexy and pretty I am. You know, keep him thinking about me. Giggle. To get to his room, I leave the main office and go a short distance along the corridor. I open his door without knocking and stroll in. "Hi Rog," I say, amused to see him buried in typing. He's another one who much preferred the old days.

I sashay around in front of him, striking sexy and provocative poses in my skimpy dress. I'm rewarded with the look on his face as he ogles me. His longing is plain to see. He's drooling like a hungry dog being tantalised with a juicy bone, dangled just out of reach by its cruel owner.

I lean over his desk to talk to him and he gets a great view of my breasts inside my extremely scanty and revealing dress. I smile sadistically at his obvious arousal. He's gone red in the face and he's breathing rather heavily. I shake my tits around a little, giggling at him, and I tell him to go home at lunchtime because I want to use his room in the afternoon. I don't bother telling Roger this, but I plan to give Dean TWO treats today. Cream on legs at my desk, which he knows already, and then later an even better one -- a private smooch, just Dean and me, in Roger's room.

It'll be a first since up to now, when I've granted Dean and Donny a smooch, it's been out in the office, in full view of the others. That's great but this'll make a nice change. Donny will be put out, of course, because it will allow Dean to start lording it over him whereas they've been equals up to now -- my joint favourites. Thing is, I've decided Dean is definitely the most dishy and he's going to be my first favourite from now on. Donny will be second favourite (I'll still allow him smooches in the office, for example, which the other guys don't get) but Dean will be Main Man around the place. Dean will get more office smooches than Donny and, starting today, he'll sometimes get one of these private ones -- either in Roger's room, if it's free, or I'll take him out somewhere for a couple of hours, to the park maybe.

Be a pleasant surprise for him later, when I bring him here and tell him -- also tell him I'm giving him another salary rise so he'll be on way more than Donny and MILES more than anyone else.

Be an even more pleasant surprise for Dean when we have our smooch, because I'm going to let him do more than usual. I won't allow him to go all the way with me, of course -- privilege reserved for outside work and for REALLY dishy guys like Robert and Paul and Mario -- so it'll still be just a tease. A bigger tease, actually, because I plan to get him right to the edge of orgasm and then stop (something I always enjoy doing to boys ... usually just to torture them). It will be nice for Dean, though, given I'll be letting him finish himself off. God his cock is going to explode, probably only need to give himself a couple of strokes. Giggle. As for the mess on the floor afterwards, well either I'll get Gerald to come in and lick it all up or I'll just have Cynthia get a mop and do it. Gerald, probably -- be a suitable end to his day.

(13) ANOTHER GIRLY LUNCH

I go back to the office feeling pleased with how today is shaping up. I can hear the cackling well before I get there and that's because, as I see when I walk in, Dean is wasting no time and the fun has very much started as regards poor Gerald.

The boys have got the wretched guy naked and scampering around the room on all fours, yapping like a dog. They're sat at their desks, making Gerald crawl around from one to the other, begging for this pencil as if it's a bone. They poke and prod him in the face with the pencil for a while, stick it up his nose and in his ears and stuff, then they toss it across the floor and he has to go fetch with his mouth and bring it back to the next guy so they each get a turn. He has to keep yapping like a real dog does and this means the pencil keeps dropping out of his mouth onto the floor. Each time that happens, Dean slaps and kicks Gerald's naked butt and makes him pick it up again, does it hard enough to make the poor sod yelp.

It's the sort of game I can see could go on for a long time, so I just sit and watch for a while, clapping and giggling, egging the bullying boys on.

Well he is our official "Dogsbody" so this idea of Dean's, that he be an actual dog for the day, makes perfect sense. He deserved to win this morning's little competition, even if he wasn't my new first favourite. Much better than Donny's idea. Donny just wanted to lock Gerald in a filing cabinet all day. Boring. Still, if it's a really SMALL cabinet, I suppose. Maybe I'll let him do that next week sometime ... if he says enough nice things about how gorgeous and pretty I am. He is quite dishy and still my second favourite, after all.

While I'm watching the fun, Cynth resumes work on my toe nails. When she's finished, I summon our stark naked dog-for-the-day over and I make Cynthia give him a painful kick in the ribs. Cynthia is a kind hearted girl and it really upsets her having to do this. Which is why I make her do it twice, once on either side. She's crying now, obviously quite distressed. So is Geek. God, what a pathetic pair. I have this evil little plan that one day I'll force them to BOTH get naked and make out with each other on the office floor, while me and the boys watch and jeer. I consider doing it now, the boys ARE watching all this, but decide there isn't time. Nearly lunch. I do however make Cynthia reach in between his legs, fondle his cock and his balls a little. Really funny sight this is, as you can imagine, and me and the guys laugh like crazy.

I order Gerald to go crouch naked in a corner and I tell Cynthia to phone for my lunch. I say the guys can go down the pub for a couple of hours. We'll have a quick "Who's the prettiest girl in the office?" contest when they get back, I announce. That gets them grinning in anticipation as they troop out -- they always enjoy it when we do one of those.

My lunch arrives and it looks delicious -- a dish of ravioli to start, then a nice big piece of chocolate cake for afters. Nothing for Cynthia because I decided, when I took over and she became my Slave, that she'd benefit from a no-food-whatsoever diet at work. She used to really pig out -- breakfast when she came in, mid morning snack, big lunch, afternooners, you name it and Cyn troughed it. Probably why she was so fat. Maybe not though because she's still dumpy now, even with this starvation regime I've put her on. No need to change her office name, let's say, Dumpster still works just fine.

No, must be she's one of those girls who it's in her genes to be obese. She stays fat even if she eats hardly anything. Kind of the opposite to me, I eat whatever I want and it makes no difference to my slim and gorgeous figure. Life really IS unfair, isn't it? Giggle.

Any case, my making her stop eating during work hours means the girl is famished by this time of the day, 1 pm or so ... she's RAVENOUSLY hungry. This makes MY lunch taste all the better, of course. I love to torture the poor cow (giggle) by eating it right in front of her. I make her set it all out for me on my desk, then she has to pull up a chair and watch while I scoff it. I do this every day and it really is great fun.

So, as per usual, Cynthia sits there drooling with hunger while I make a big deal of enjoying my delicious lunch. "Mmm, this ravioli is just YUMMY," I say, as I pop another generous forkful into my mouth. "Oh god, Dumpy, this is to die for, it really is," I swoon after each mouthful, smacking my lips. "This is almost as good as sex with Paul and Mario."

I sometimes deign to give her leftovers (only inflames her appetite ... kind of like when I let some horny boy kiss me for a few seconds) but today I'm feeling wicked, so I don't. What I do today, when I've had my fill of the ravioli but there's still a fair bit left, is quite sadistic. I get a nice amount on my fork and I tease poor Cynthia with it. I wave this forkful of hot, delicious food in her face, hold it right up under her nose for a while, smear her nostrils. "Mmm, smell the lovely food, Dumpy," I taunt, relishing being a complete bitch. "Do you want a little taste, maybe?" I ask, moving it down, towards her drooling mouth. "Oh yes, Empress," she says -- she really does want some, even if just one forkful.
"Go on then," I say and nod encouragingly.

At which point Cynthia bobs her head forward, tries to get her mouth round the forkful of ravioli I'm holding. But no dice, because I keep moving it around so she can't quite get any. I really am enjoying this, it's a scream. "Aw looks like poor Dumpers is going totally hungry today," I giggle, as I scrape the food back into the dish, start the tease again with a fresh forkful.

I keep this pantomime up for ages, casually tormenting the poor, starving girl with the food. She keeps begging me to feed her something -- "Please Empress Amber, please, I'm so hungry," she's pleading, tears of frustration in her eyes -- and keeps trying to get her chops around some ravioli. But she can't. She gets oh so close, but she can never QUITE get any. Not a morsel. Each forkful ends up back in the dish. It's driving her mad, what I'm doing.

Evil, aren't I?

Giggle.

Finally, I tell her to keep still and I start dabbing bits of food around her face with my fork -- it goes everywhere but in her mouth. I put some on the tip of her nose, some behind her ears, smear sauce around her lips and in her eyebrows, put a few pieces on top of her head and mash it into her hair. It's really funny (she ends up still starving but looking a real mess) and I wish the guys were here to appreciate it.

Only witness is Gerald and he's NOT one to appreciate it. He's still crouching there in the corner, looking quite unhappy with life. I wondered if he'd peed himself again -- hard to tell when he's naked. Maybe I'd let him go to the bathroom, next time he asked. Maybe I wouldn't, though.

"God Dumpy, you really look a picture," I giggle, deciding I'd keep her looking like this for the rest of the day. "How are you going to beat me in the Prettiest Girl contest with all that mess on you?"

As if.

(14) DISHY DEAN BOILS A KETTLE (OR TWO)

I give the dish of leftovers to Cynthia and instruct her to "go feed the dog" - indicating to where Gerald is cowering in the corner.

She trots over and places the dish on the floor in front of him. "Say eat Doggy," I tell her.

"Eat, Doggy," she says and Gerald, on all fours and looking very like a dog now, in fact, starts lapping away at the food with his mouth.

"Make sure he eats it all up, Dumpy," I say. "Stay there until he's finished, then wash up the dish and come back over here. I want you to feed me my delicious chocolate cake while I do a bit of on-line stuff. I'm gonna order a load of great new clothes using Daddy's charge card and I need both hands for that."

Which is what we're doing when the boys come back. Pretty long session in the pub, they've had, and they're a touch drunk. I don't mind the guys drinking in work hours because it makes it even more fun flirting with them. The alcohol makes them feel very horny and they ogle me all the more appreciatively. Makes them a bit boisterous too -- perfect for this Prettiest Girl contest we're about to have. I'm really looking forward to that -- looking forward to it about as much as Cynthia isn't. I saw her poor little face drop when I announced it earlier. Giggle.

"Be with you in a minute guys, just finishing up here," I tell them. "I'm ordering some sexy new outfits. Hey, why don't you boys just busy yourself with the dog while you're waiting. Do whatever you want to him."

"We certainly will, Gorgeous," said Dean, cackling.

I turn back to my screen and finish ordering the clothes ... a particularly DIVINE little cocktail dress is the most expensive thing I buy ... while Cynthia feeds me my chocolate cake. I just open my mouth whenever I want some and she pops a piece in. I eat all of it. Yummy yum yum.

Behind me, I hear ribald laughter from the boys and a cacophony of yelps and screams from Gerald.

I flip round and see why. Gerald is being held face down on the floor by four of the guys, Donny plus three others, and Dean is torturing him. The others are stood around watching. Someone's gone and boiled a kettle in the small kitchen area we have and Dean's got the kettle and he's trickling boiling water over Gerald's naked arse.

"Oh god, no," mutters Cynthia. She's plainly mortified. This is definitely the worst thing they've ever done to Gerald. He's in agony, poor guy.

"Well I did say they could do ANYTHING, I guess," I say.

It is very cruel, what Dean's doing, but he looks particularly dishy doing it and I decide it's fine. In fact it's a great prelude for our Prettiest Girl contest.

The boys are looking at me, wondering if they've gone too far, waiting to see what I'll say next.

I keep them in suspense for a while, look at them with a straight and thoughtful face, so they get to fearing they've displeased me with this pouring boiling water over Gerald, and that I'll stop teasing and flirting with them ... maybe even call off Prettiest Girl.

Then I start grinning. "Hey what about his front bits, boys? Don't want to do half a job, do we?"

Poor Gerald's sobbing and screaming, when he hears this, is truly pitiful. He knows what's coming and there's nothing he can do to stop it. "Yeah, Gorgeous, I love you," shouts a gleeful Dean, and he goes and boils another kettle. "Nice full one, Sugar," I giggle and I go over to watch the fun. I make Cynthia come too, despite her desperate protests. She's so upset by how Gerald's being tortured that she's forgotten she's got ravioli all over her face.

The guys flip Gerald and stretch him out on the floor face up. They pull his legs and his arms wide apart and hold him like that -- a guy on each of his wrists, and on each of his ankles. He can't move a muscle. All he can do is thrash his head around, which is what he IS doing.

"No, please noooo," he's begging.

Dean is back with the steaming kettle, showing it to Gerald and grinning.

"Aw listen to him, Gorgeous," he says to me. "The Geek's not very keen on this game, is he? Probably wishing he was still a dog."

I go and stand over Gerald, smiling down at him. "Is that right, Geek, would you rather just be our little doggie again?"

"Yes Empress," he pleads. "I wanna be a doggie again."

It's pitiful, it really is. He's actually begging to be a dog. I get a fit of the giggles. What a dork.

I decide to toy with him a little. I slip my shoes off and give them to Cynthia to hold, gaze back down at Gerald.

"Mmm, I see. Well maybe if you kiss my pretty little toes," I say, and I place a foot to his mouth. "Maybe if the Geek kisses his Empress' pretty little toes, tells her how much he worships and adores her, she'll let him be a doggie again."

Gerald, sensing a reprieve, starts kissing my toes with great gusto and telling me how gorgeous I am. That I'm a thousand times more beautiful than any other girl in the world. Than any girl who has ever lived. That he loves me utterly and completely.

And all the time Dean is waiting there with the steaming kettle.

It's hilarious and the guys are killing themselves.

"Okay Geek, that was nice. You can stop now. You did well. I've decided you CAN be a dog again."

Gerald's eyes are shining with relief and gratitude. The way he's looking at me now, it's like he really IS in love. I smile sweetly down at him, savouring the moment. It's exquisite.

My smile slowly morphs into the widest, wickedest grin you've ever seen.

"I'll let Dean do this first though, if you don't mind. He's boiled the kettle now and we don't want to disappoint him, do we? Not Dishy Dean."

Gerald's poor little face collapses. He's wishing he were dead.

"Hey, he can be a Hot Dog," jokes Donny, and we all laugh.

Except Cynthia, of course, she's bawling her eyes out.

I'm still standing over Gerald and I notice he's looking up my dress. Not only that, his little cock is stirring. This is just so amusing, it really is. Here's the guy about to be horribly tortured for the second time and he's STILL getting turned on by looking at me. Don't think I've ever felt the sheer, intoxicating power of being a beautiful girl more intensely than at this moment.

I can't resist one last thing. "Watch this, boys," I giggle, and I start playing with Gerald's cock and balls with my foot, using my pretty, painted toes to tickle and stimulate him. In less than a minute, he's erect.

"Oh fuck, look at that. Amber's given the poor little bastard a hard-on," chuckles one of the guys.

"Probably his last one after we've finished this," grins Dean. "Can I do it now, Gorgeous?" he asks, brandishing the kettle. "Don't want it going cold, right?"

I give Gerald's dick a last little foot tickle and step aside, have Cynthia kneel down and put my shoes back on for me.

"All yours, Dishy Deano," I grin, flirting with him. "And do it REAL slow. Make him suffer, Sugar. Torture him. Show me what a big, hunky sadist you are."

He does, he makes it last a long long time. I can see Dean just LOVES doing this ... he's chuckling the whole time. He totally does look dishy today and I find myself really looking forward to this private smooch we'll be having later. Gerald screams for mercy throughout his ordeal. The more he screams, the more Dean enjoys it. The other guys enjoy it too, they're savouring the spectacle.

Dean keeps grinning up at me, making sure I'm impressed with his torturing skills ... I show him I am by giggling and pouting ... and I like how he's so eager to please. The two of us can have SO much sexy fun together in the office, I'm thinking, once I've got him installed as my First Favourite. I have a couple of delicious ideas already.

When it's finished, Gerald is a wreck.

I tell him to put his clothes back on and go sit in the corner and try and be quiet until home time. He does that, but can't quite manage the "being quiet" part. He's making these strange noises, actually sounds more animal than human. It's a bit annoying and I toy with the idea (Donny's one) of getting the boys to lock him in a filing cabinet, maybe with a sock in his mouth, but decide against it. I'm bored with Gerald now.

In any case, we can ignore him for the rest of the day - he has no part in the upcoming Prettiest Girl contest and I'll get Cynthia to mop up the mess from Dean's exploding cock after our private smooch in Roger's room. Last thing that'll be, after the others have gone home.

(15) DEAN IS REWARDED

"So, did you enjoy doing that, Sweetie? Did it give you a nice big hard-on?" I ask Dean. Looking down I can see that it did. He's got quite a bulge.

I let him know I've noticed, pouting and licking my lips appreciatively. I love flirting with Dean. He's really quite a dish.

"Yeah, Gorgeous, damn right it did," he grins.

"Got me quite wet too. Hey, so do you fancy rubbing that cream on my sexy legs now?"

"Oh yeah, baby."

"Really IS your lucky day, Hunky, isn't it?" I giggle sexily. And he doesn't even know yet about the little private session we're going to have. Dishy Dean will be going home a very happy guy tonight.

"You said it, Amber," he chuckles.

We go over to my desk and I tell Cynth to get the sun cream from our little stash and give it to Dean.

"Er Amber baby, why's the Dumpster got that stuff all over her ugly mug?" asks Dean.

"It's part of her plan to win the Prettiest Girl," I smirk. "New look ... Ravioli Face."

Cynthia remembers she looks a mess and asks if she can go to the bathroom. I say yes, sure, but only to have a pee (if she needs one ... she says she does) and to change into her Prettiest Girl outfit. I forbid her to clean up her face.

We have a number of "PG" outfits for these occasions, all of them extremely sexy -- or on a sexy girl they are anyway, on a dumpling like Cynthia they look absurd and very funny. There's two of each outfit, one for me and one for her, so we can wear the same thing for the contest. Only fair, right? Course, they're all in my size not hers, so this gives me an advantage -- as if I needed any more advantage than being totally gorgeous when she's a complete minger. Giggle.

"What do you think, Dean baby, the little pink bikinis today?" I ask.

"Oh god yeah, Gorgeous. You look fucking AMAZING in that."

"Mmm, I know," I giggle. "Okay Lumpy Dumpy, it's pink bikinis. Go and put it on and come back here when you're ready. Oh and bring mine out. I'm gonna cut your salary, by the way, if you lose again."

I look scrumptious in a bikini ... ANY bikini. Paul and Mario take me to the beach on the weekend sometimes and you should see how every guy there lusts after me. Quite funny when guys are with their wives and girlfriends, but still can't help ogling me the whole time. I love all that. I'm a massive cock tease when I go to the beach.

Cynthia goes to our office closet, emerges with the two bikinis. She puts mine on my desk and goes off with hers.

While she's away, Dean has a sexy time rubbing cream into my long, luscious legs. I relax and enjoy the sensation of having my legs gently massaged by a hunky guy. I don't need to move, I just sit back in my chair and stretch my legs out, feet on desk, and he does the rest. He covers every inch, from my ankles right up under my dress to the top of my thighs.

"Mmm that feels yummy," I purr. "Keep going, Sugar."

Dean is flushed and VERY turned on. He's being as careful and skilful rubbing cream on my legs as he was scalding Gerald with the boiling water. Poor Gerald -- I get all the pleasure and he gets all the pain.

"Guess it's the Geek who could really do with some anti-burn cream right now," I chuckle.

"Bit late for that, Gorgeous," jokes Dean. "He's already boiled."

"Yeah, careless of him. God have you ever HEARD somebody scream so much? Thought he was gonna pass out at one point."

"Wouldn't have been so much fun then would it, Ambs baby, if he'd passed out halfway through."

"Poor little Geek," I giggle. "Jeez, the state of his skin when you'd finished. Yuck. I couldn't bear my skin to look like that. You wouldn't fancy and adore me so much, Sugar, would you, if my skin looked as horrible as Geek's does now?"

"Your skin is flawless, Amber sweetheart, flawless. You know that."

"Yeah I so do know that. Hey, but thanks for saying it," I pout.

He lets his fingers brush against my panties a few times and I like that. I also like how the other guys (especially Donny) are looking over at us with a mixture of envy and longing. Think Dean is enjoying this aspect too. Think he's going to really LOVE being my first favourite, once I've formally told him.

"Dean, Sugar, before I forget. After Prettiest Girl and stuff, I'd like for you and I to go to Roger's room for a little private meeting. Be just you and me, Sweetie, Roger's gone. You'll enjoy it, baby, I promise."

"Sure thing, Gorgeous. Can't wait."

(16) PRETTIEST GIRL

I tell him that's enough with my legs and he goes back to his desk, smiling like the cat that's got the cream. And he did get the cream, didn't he? Not only that, he got to rub it into my sexy legs.

Next thing that happens is Cynthia comes back and she's got her little pink bikini on. She'd look bad in this even if it fitted her, but with it also being way too small, she looks absolutely ridiculous.

Chorus of sarcastic cheers and jeers from the guys. "Don't fancy yours much," laughs somebody.

We have a large table in the centre of the office and I order Cynthia to get up there. The guys pull up chairs around the table and wait expectantly for me. "Just be a minute boys," I grin, and I go get changed in the bathroom.

When I walk back into the office, clad in the sexy little bikini, pandemonium erupts. The bikini leaves little to the imagination, it reveals almost every mouth watering inch of my luscious female body. It's the closest these guys get to seeing me naked and they go absolutely nuts.

A chorus of lusty male approval -- wolf whistles, grunts and groans, shouts -- "oh jesus, she's SO fucking hot!" -- accompanies my every move. A dozen pairs of longing male eyes hungrily follow me as I sashay across the room, swinging my hips and pouting.

I'm lapping it up.

Even poor Gerald, whimpering in his corner, is having a furtive peep. I giggle and blow him a mocking kiss.

I get up on the table, stand next to Cynthia. The contrast is cruel as cruel can be. Giggle. My lush beauty is pointed up by her ugliness. And the opposite of course, she looks just terrible stood there next to me. I'm a nice height for a girl and she's short. I've got a heart stoppingly lovely face and hers is plain as pie. My lips are full and pouting, hers are thin and mean looking. My teeth are perfect, hers aren't. I've got a great figure, in every way, whilst she's far too fat. My hair is long and wavy and lustrous, hers is like wet string. My skin is lightly tanned all over and flawless, her skin is pale and a bit blotchy.

Course we know all this, but our "PG" contests work nicely to emphasise it. The whole thing makes me feel incredibly good -- it plays to my ego, reaffirms my status as an extremely gorgeous, sexy girl who all men desire. And for poor Cynthia, the opposite. She knows she's ugly and this rams it home.

SUCH a bitch, aren't I?

Each guy has a voting card, with two names and three categories. The two names are "Empress Amber" and "The Dumpster", and the categories are "Gorgeous" and "Inbetweener" and "Minger". What they have to do, after me and Cynthia "model" for them up on the table, is tick one category for each name. It's not complicated. The cards are then collated and totted up and the results announced by one of the guys. Dean today, I'm betting -- has to be, doesn't it?

Cynthia's modelling is greeted with a mix of silence and contemptuous laughter. She lumbers around the table looking gross, and that's about it. Having cold ravioli all over her face and hair doesn't help much. It's even worse, her performance, than the last time, when the outfits were clingy little black cocktail dresses (I look GREAT in clingy little cocktail dresses, by the way ... black or otherwise. Ask Roger. Giggle).

When I strut my stuff, however, it's desire and adoration all the way. I'm feeling VERY sexy and so I put on a bit of a show, really tease the guys ... slide my little bikini bottoms down over my smooth-as-silk, perfectly shaped buttocks ... let the straps on my skimpy top fall over my shoulders ... play peek-a-boo with my luscious breasts. It drives them bananas and I know I'm making all their cocks go hard.

I groove over to each one and wiggle my exposed ass in their face. I let each boy in turn worship my superb butt, planting soft butterfly kisses on my silky buttocks. I allow Donny do more than just kiss, I let him use his tongue to lick around inside a little bit. Dean gets to do that too ... for a lot longer than Donny.

I have three lovely orgasms.

When I've finished cavorting, every single one of the guys asks my permission to jerk off but I say no (at last, some good news for Gerald ... who doesn't look capable of cock cleaning duties right now, in any case).

Course, Dean is going to be okay. He's going to be jerking off in Roger's room very shortly. The others will have to wait until they get home.

And it is indeed Dishy Dean who announces the results of today's PG.

"Ladeez an Gennerman ... we have the results of the Prettiest Girl contest. For Empress Amber, we have 12 votes of Gorgeous and none for anything else. For The Dumpster we have, er let's see ... yes also unanimous ... 12 votes say Minger. So, good people, it's official, Amber is absolutely Gorgeous and Dumpster is a total Minger. Thus, the prettiest girl in the office is ... by a million trillion miles ... the stunning and sexy AMBER!"

It makes Cynthia the Ugliest Girl in the office too, of course, but we never bother announcing that.

"Sorry Dumpy, looks like I win again," I smirk at Cynthia. "That'll be a 10% salary cut, as of now. Better try harder next time, hadn't you?"
I wallow in the applause and appreciation for a while. "Why, thank you guys," I flirt. "It's great for a girl to know she's really pretty."

Then Cynth and me go get changed, and that's about it. The boys, plus poor Gerald, go home and there's just me, Dean and Cynthia left.

"So you okay for our private meeting, Sugar?" I ask him, giggling a little.

"Too right, I am" he grins.

"Okay Sweetie, come," and I take his hand and we walk off together to Roger's room, me and Dishy Dean.

I remember to call back to Cynthia. "You need to stick around and wait for us, Dumps, I have a chore for you before you go."

Giggle.

*** THE END ***