Lesbian Peril Legal

LESBIAN PERIL LEGAL

 

By Michelle Makens

 

Chap. 1

 

A preference choice to continue a small but somewhat lucrative law practice with L.P.L Brokerage & Defense (known only to a chosen inner circle as Lesbian Power Legal B&D) easily fulfilled my secular desirers and soon became more rewarding in many ways. With the shared caseloads and practical billable hours, things were less hectic as the overall workweek schedule helped open up my personal time for many other more interesting pursuits.

 

But with this ideal situation came the off set of taking on an additional administrative position as their office manager. I suppose it did seem (as things were) the perfect image to my own well-defined dominant private life style, as you will discover.

 

To dismiss any doubt, this decision did not come about completely by chance and was primarily due to the mutual fact that the firm's main controlling partners were all very well to do female professional lawyers who were openly lesbian women by nature. Perhaps a minor exception to this statement was the seven other thirty something year old female associates who were, in their own different ways, very much involved in the fem/fem scene. Some of these who lean more towards the kink and B&D fetish, I have in the short passing of time, made very personal or intimate acquaints with. All of these women are very appealing; well above average in looks, physically fit and knowingly turned in the same circles.

 

Oh, I suppose there is one other smaller exception as far as the rest of the office, which has been by no strange coincidence very well staffed with many other beautiful young women. Most of these however remained somewhat clue-less and are employed in various assistant positions.

 

Now as for myself, there has never been a need for exaggeration or any reason to be modest, as my own physical appearance has always proven to be very eye catching, being an especially tall statuesque female, (almost 6 foot 1 in bare stocking feet). So then when I am dressed in heels and wearing my long amber hair high up on my head in a tightly pinned swirled bun, well this easily gives me a desired intrinsic look of status. Authoritative and controlling has always been my featured feminine allure.

 

In preparation for my début, when I initially greeted they’re exclusive female staff, everything had been carefully arranged in just the right manner. Perhaps it was meant to be dramatic and even more so shocking when I first walked into the office, pretentiously daunting my shapely hourglass figure, long legs, smooth full hips, a streaming waist line and amply cleavage revealed above my bosoms. I was unquestionably stunning and a little intimidating to most of the younger women. This fact was quickly realized even before they found me out to be an extremely dominant minded and out spoken female.

 

Given my pronounced dominating appearance and the obscure fact of being totally immersed in a relatively kinky life and lesbianism might go on to explain my more decisive behavior in dealing with some of the more flippant and incorrigible girls working there in the office. It had not taken long for some of these female subordinates to conjure reasons to dislike me, although it was usually only the small matter of insisting that they be more diligent. My decidedly stricter manner soon came to the attention of Ms. Cynthia Mills, one of the older senior partners (forty three to be precise). So maybe several weeks had past when Ms. Mills approached me after just such an incident. I was seated by my self reading a Grecian novel there quietly in the lunchroom when she asked me to please step into her office later on that afternoon so she could have a word with me.

 

As I neared the reception area to her office just after 1:13, we met by chance of circumstance, just as it appeared she was walking back into the office from her assistance’s desk. As I followed her in, it became quite noticeable that she had kept her rather slim though perfect figure and seemed to be very well endowed for a woman her size. Even in her accustom style and modest manner of dress, she easily boasted a lovely (C cup) mantle, enticing to say the least. Typically she wore her slightly graying, straight shoulder length hair parted in the middle. This was in addition to keeping the sides pulled back on ether side of her head, holding it there were two simple barrettes. Surprisingly in a more suitable way, this somewhat younger hairstyle, a little out of place with her maturity, made such a grade school thought femininely attractive and perfectly forbidden (so adolescently sinful and delicious). Actually, I found Cynthia to be a very pleasant female to study as we both stood inside her office near the partially ajar door.

 

Regretfully she had begun (to some degree) by openly admonishing me. As I suspected, there had been some petty grievances voiced by anonymous sources after one of my reprimands. But just shortly after Ms. Mills started with her small verbal slap on the wrist (and as if on cue) we both attentively noticed the somewhat subtle eavesdropping of her rather cute brunette secretary Ann. In light of this frank observation, the door was closed and on her subsequent return, Ms Mills made a rather curious apologetic amends. “Cynthia” (as I was later corrected by her) continued in a hushed voice as she went on to actually commend me on my very much needed administrative actions.

 

With this she then curiously entrusted me with something and was hopeful that I could take care of a certain delicate office matter. Cynthia Mills was quite blunt when saying that there had been a few annoying accounting thefts and felt it would be more reasonable to delegate this to someone possessing a certain subtle manner in discretion. Such things as having only accusing suspicions or confronting one of committing a theft could be a means for unnecessary counter suits without having more facts and documented proof.

 

To date, she informed me, there were only small but consistently recurring accounting errors and other trifling discrepancies. Cynthia needed (she felt) a person technically advanced (such as myself) who possessed such a strong-handed secular judgment. I had her full approval, (although anonymously) to take whatever means necessary with the suspected female culprit in the department. In a twist of irony, she offered the woman’s name, one which stood out in my mind. Yes there the girl was again boldly on top of my list underlined in red.

 

Even before Cynthia finished with her hushed implications, this rather garish and adolescent behaved twenty three year old (Miss Valerie Anne Johnson) loomed vividly in my mind. It had only been a short time ago since our last little exacerbating discussion, the ones which I often had with this little high nosed Miss.

 

Actually it had come to the point of my thinking that what this unceasingly truant and sassy little up-start needed was a good firm guiding hand in her life. That is, one of my own swatting at that nice pert cheeky bottom of hers. It was seemingly obvious to me that it would take nothing less then a true corporal reprimand to make Miss Johnson act like a reasonable and responsible adult young woman in my eyes.

 

Even when she was in proper attendance, it always seemed such a chore for her to share in some of the more menial office tasks. If she did anything, it was usually accompanied with her infuriating girlish whining and endless complaining prattle, which would soon be infused with her indecorous manner. I found Miss Johnson’s personal persona to be flagrantly intolerable, although in a way it was a natural fit to her outward physical semblance. She was a perfectly matched and stereotypical petite blonde female who possessed a very childishly superior attitude and seemed in dire need of a little discipline she sorely missed in her youth obviously.

 

I suppose Miss Johnson’s rather youthful looking appearance (along with her manner) could be partially contributed to her fair skin, which showed a few light tan freckles on each cheek. She did have adorable pale blue eyes and a very slim, although shapely girlish figure. Her hair (blonde) actually varied with light sandy colors, being long in length. Aside from a few various chosen styles, it stayed for the most part long and naturally straight. When it was pulled back into a ponytail, (which was more so then not) Valerie's small delicate facial features made her look a bit like a teenager.

 

Yes she was virtually just a very young, spoiled, undisciplined, disrespectful, ill-mannered girl in my thoughts. And despite her undisputable adult age, I still found it rather satisfying to picture Valerie dressed in a shamefully uncomfortable outfit. Of course any sensible young woman would feel self-conscious while wearing such things like a pleated skirt which came up almost panty high. This I thought would only fade in comparison to a very naughty and extremely tight fitting blouse. But alas her indiscretion would never be tolerated and there would certainly be serious consequences for a young woman in such an errant state of dress. My imagined demonstration of her shameful little costume and delinquency would surly have to end when Valerie found herself practically stripped out of her panties as she was bent over in the little schoolgirl uniform and spanked on her bare bottom.

 

As you can see, I have caught myself fantasizing for sometime over how she needed to be punished like this often imagined troublesome pigtailed girl.

 

But continuing on, I started my diligent inquires one evening after office hours, going over the particular errant accounts and some corporate investment portfolios. Some other less tedious endeavors that seemed more fruitful and enlightening, were spent researching Miss Johnson's past and more insignificant juvenile misdeeds. An intriguing note was the recent publicly declared Will of Betty Anna Johnson, which became more then just an interest to me. Valerie's recently deceased stepmother had left her as the legally adopted child of her small dwindled estate. Yes it was on public record that the woman had adopted Valerie as an infant.

 

My enthusiastic persistence in Valerie Johnson's life had only left me with a few possible fraudulent investments. A hand full of account numbers and names of various corporations, which I made a disk copy of after coming across them in a file marked for personal receipts; it was really less then nothing.

 

During the following few weeks of being foiled by whatever clever little pilfering and investment scheme she had contrived, made my own personal demeanor grow to that of a caged tigress in heat.

 

Sorely smitten with these pinned frustrations and my paralleling aggravation of very horny hormonal desires, I finally made the resolve to play a little cat and mouse game with this audacious little shrew.

 

Needless to say, being in this state of mind I was more then ready for a little diversion and had already packed my bag for a rather sorted weekend. This came right after a daring decision to dressing myself less conservatively that same morning. My mind was primarily focused on the excitement of my ritual weekend hunt that I frequently made around the less known lesbian bars and clubs. In any case, I came into the office that Friday morning ready to kill metaphorically, consciously exuding a sexual eminence as my projected appearance seemed a little scant although still totally business like.  It was sometime late that afternoon when I catered to my thoughtful plan of having Miss Valerie Johnson step into my office for a private chat. There could only be, however, a cautious pawing with an instinctive cat-like wit and my knowing soul-piercing stares. Nothing more would be used other then the lone black diskette, which now sat atop a scarlet red folder. In itself, this would seem to be the most accusing bit of evidence that now lay tellingly in the middle of my desk blotter.

 

Miss Johnson’s obvious defiance in promptly heeding my summons might not have seemed that detrimental to anyone at the time, but it had taunted me even further with her twenty-minute delay. When she finally paraded in coarsely, Valerie came dressed in a flawlessly matched 60's retro pink outfit. Other then the white blouse under her pink two-button waist flared jacket and the white grade-school looking panty hose, she was Miss-pretty-princess-pink from head to toe; Shoes, skirt, lapel coat and a perfectly placed powder puff pink scrunchy holding her long blonde pony-tail. As she was, if it had not been for the slightly higher then mid thigh tapering skirt and her rather childish looking hairstyle, which was in unison with the characteristic juvenile mannerisms, I would have said that she made the whole ‘Barbie doll’ silliness of the thing work perfectly.

 

"Well okay Elisabeth, you wanted to see me?"

 

She had balanced herself in between the two front desk chairs, precariously poised in a rather overly done less sophisticated stance. Valerie's chosen vogue posture had her pivoting heavily on one pink high heel while she rested her fingertips on the back of either chair. In this manner she managed to make quite a showy little display of herself.    

 

"Yes... Although I prefer not be kept waiting Miss Johnson. Now if you would, please take a seat."

 

As if I had been graced merely by her presents there, she consented rather unwilling and sat somewhat plainly after an obnoxious little eye roll.

 

"I hope this doesn't take too long because I'm not counting any of this as part of my afternoon break?"

 

Oh, how I loathed that pompous little attitude of hers.

 

"Well Miss Johnson I'm sorry to hear that, because I'm afraid what I have to say is of a very serious nature."

 

Prudently I watched her subtle body language and subtle batting eye movements just briefly before continuing. It was somewhat notable that my statement of being ‘very serious in nature’ had affected her carefree spirit drastically. Valerie became a lot less at easy and seemingly more focused on what I had to say. But this was only the first step in trapping my little blonde cheese-stealing mouse.

 

"Are you aware Miss Johnson of the government penalties for miss handling or falsely appropriated funds? Freud if you will."

 

Her sweet girlish hush turned to that of nervous fidgeting and then suddenly erupted into a torrent out pouring of premature denial and flustered self-righteous ridiculing, which was followed by her anxious attempt at distancing herself with viability and rather weak defensive threats.

 

"I don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about Elisabeth. ...This is absurd, how could anyone get away with such a thing? ...You would need proof or else a very good lawyer.”

 

Clearly, showing such a complete and utter look of guilt on her face was making my strategic little mouse catching game far too easy. Picking up the black disk, I casually eased myself back away from the desk and crossed my legs with a sly look of confidence.

 

"Miss Johnson, I 'am', as you put it, ‘a very good lawyer’. One who knows that the penalties in even the smallest cases can mean mandatory time in prison. Although, I don't recall actually accusing anyone of anything, do you Miss Johnson?"

 

The disk was held in my hand for her to see.

 

"…But if I just happened to stumble upon a certain file with seemingly false account information and maybe a few other very incriminating bits of evidence which is linked to other non-existent corporations. Well then it could certainly be grounds for at least a very in-depth investigation. Of course at this point, someone would be temporally dismissed and surly they would need sufficient bound money depending on the severity of the charges. But by this time, any credibility they might have would be gone." 

 

Having finished with this statement of paradox, I unfurled my legs complacently and placed the disk for safe keeping in the top desk drawer. I then gave Valerie a very cold searching look though my eyeglasses that were securely propped down on the bridge of my nose. She was still trying to recompose herself. Not that I even gave her the chance.

 

"Unfortunately Miss Johnson, I don't believe that one would need to be so candid in your closely matched situation. You see, as a woman pretentiously held in an administrative position; yes, one I might add who is exceedingly accomplished in a win at all cost profession, has not made it here by letting petty little thieves like you Miss Johnson go free. Sobbing testimonies and childish tantrums are only silly little song and dance games young women like to use when skirting they’re way around the truth. But everything that I need to know about the miss dealings of you ‘Miss Valerie Ann Johnson’ is right here in this file and on that diskette in my desk. "

 

She was now wearing a very helpless trapped look, which mimicked that of a lost baby fawn when meeting my own expressive hard stare. I began once again.

 

"With these two incriminating things safely together in my possession, I will be undoubtedly forced to bring them to light you see Miss Johnson... "

 

There was a slight pause as I stopped momentarily to remove my ebony rimmed glasses. This was done in the manner so I could give her a very serious look, and my full assurance that I was ready to carry this out to the fullest.

 

"...That is, Valerie.  …This all will end in you being put on trial after the ordeal of being taken into custody. You will be tried openly and branded as a common thief, which will finally leave you locked away for quite some time I'm afraid. No one, I can assure you, will show any sympathy my dear, and I suppose it really should be said that in addition to your public disgrace, everything you might now possess will certainly be lawfully seized. I will personally see to that."

 

All through my surreal telling of her life's coming drama, Valerie tried desperately, although in vain, to conceal the looming fear which vividly permeated the mood of her immediate and unknown future. But with its hopeless tragic ending finally told, it brought her seemingly tearful look of defeat, which was now rather blushing and fatally cute in those misty blue eyes of hers.

 

"W-What do you want, money?"

 

Her audacity, how naive I thought, although it became obvious that 'little Miss innocent' Valerie Johnson was unquestionably not so high and mighty now.

 

"Oh, should I add bribery to the list Miss Johnson?"

 

The panicked look in her eyes gave away to all the other once hidden signs of guilt and I calmly watched as Valerie’s rather thin lucid defense shattered.

 

"No, please Elisabeth..."

 

Suddenly she stopped and bit her lower lip thoughtfully, obviously reconsidering her position here.

 

"...Ms. Adams, please...  I... I don't want to go to prison."

 

She just sat there now, sniveling like some confused teenage girl on the other side of the desk, anxiously perched in the small cushioned chair.

 

"And why should that be any of my concern, Miss Johnson? It seemed quite obvious that you were certain of your innocents at first, and I do recall you being rather rude and haughty about it as well. Although that 'was’ before you discovered everything that 'I' know about your unlawful little money game."

 

She had become the true parody of a defenseless yearling in my dark shadowy forest hunting ground. I eased back slowly, shifting my hips intuitively and then nestled my bent arm casually on one of the cushioned leather rests. While watching her there adamantly, I propped my chin up on three fingers as the remaining pointer pressed naturally against one cheek, which now allowed me to confront her artfully. 

 

"So 'Valerie'... What would you have me do?"

 

As if opening myself to any of her less likely suggestions, I waited just a moment with my deceptive anticipation. My inadmissible response had without a doubt left Valerie totally off guard. She actually sounded sincere with her more desperate offered promise.

 

"I... I don't know... But I'll do anything you want, anything I swear, please."

 

My sly lighthearted reply was made in a very disbelieving manner.

 

"Oh really... Anything... I find that very hard to believe Valerie."

 

This false glimmer of willingness on my part to even explore her absurd offer any further made her become even more reckless and frantic.

 

"Yes, I'll do whatever you want, anything."

 

I crossed my legs again and went on with my deliberate intentions of making her elaborate in full.

 

"Well then, tell me my dear, what does 'anything' mean exactly? I'm actually very curious to hear, really."

 

Valerie's eyes dropped down hesitantly; as if to watch her fingers fumble somewhat rigidly in her lap.

 

"I-It means anything, whatever you want me to do Ms. Adams... Please."

 

There wasn't any reason to play this silly guessing game of hers a minute longer.

 

"Well then, 'anything' or 'whatever' must mean, if I understand you correctly Valerie, is that you would be willing to become my personal full time servant girl; is that what you're saying?"

 

Her eyes shot up and she looked at me with an unfounded show of utter disbelief. My acknowledgment to this over dramatized reaction was one of simply setting my glasses back on the end of my nose as I replied…

 

"Yes, I see... "

 

…And then reaching directly for the phone's receiver.

 

".... It seems that we have nothing more to discuss Miss Johnson."

 

Valerie found herself half way over my desk as she instinctively leaped to stop me from dialing the phone.

 

"No wait, please."

 

Demonstrating that she had severely crossed the line of my patients, I glared at her angrily and then snapped sharply...

 

"Sit down Miss. Johnson!"

 

It was only after she had obeyed my firm demand and slinked back down into her chair that I lowered the receiver back onto its cradle.

 

"Should I consider that childish out-burst as a sign of your full agreement now Miss Johnson?"

 

As if I had actually given her room for any further choice or debate, Valerie continued to dawdle in giving me her answer in the affirmative. It appeared that she had also found a little backbone once again and her audacious subtle charm.

 

"How do I know that you won't have me arrested anyway after I do what you want 'E-lez-a-beth'."

 

Oooo, she needed to have that smirk slapped right off her face.

 

"Well, as I see it...' Sweetness', (she was really going to regret that playful little name game one way or another) you really haven't been given any other assurances beside the one of me 'allowing you' to become my servant, or rather, ‘slave’. Keeping my promise of not having you arrested will be entirely up to you, 'My Dear'. I'm only offering amnesty in allowing you a choice to be my personal slave girl, but you alone will make that decision for yourself."

 

Of course I was going to make certain that there would be little other choice in this matter when putting it more business like.

 

"Now Miss Johnson, you have wasted enough of my time... IS IT YES OR NO?"

 

Valerie piddled about in her newfound feelings of humility after she finally gave me her response in the affirmative, and I was right there to shove her nose deep into it when she actually did.

 

"...Yes."

 

"THAT WOULD BE, ‘YES MS ADAMS’."

 

"…Yes, Ms Adams."

 

Granting her impunity from any form of embarrassment or civil punishment was far from my mind at this point. With another meaningful look, she was instructed to get down on her hands and knees. I wanted to see her totally humiliated while crawling around the desk to me. This would put her in the proper position as well to beg me if she could be my slave. Of course Valerie was very resistant to the idea of this at first. That is until I got up and made a straight line towards the door as if to escort her out. But I only found myself locking it after her sudden awkward compliance. As soon as I returned to my desk, I clicked on a few desktop icons before telling Valerie that she now had my permission to make her wishes perfectly clear to me. She did so after the short crawl to my chair and in a rather small apprehensive voice she began.

 

"Please Ms Adams, m-my I please be your slave girl."

 

I smiled briefly at her miserable attempt at being even vaguely sincere with such an outrageous request and then more thoughtfully began working my blue dress up around my hips. Valerie's eyes grow wider as she saw my white lacy stocking garter and lesser string thong panties coming into full view.  

 

"Yes you may be my slave Valerie; however I do expect you to show me a little more sincerity then just your request."

 

She was warned of the consequences of not obeying as she watched me lift both my legs over ether armrest, going on to spread them more suggestively when pulling the thin crouch panel of my panties over to one side.

 

"Now be a good slave girl Valerie and come lick my pussy."

 

Giving Valerie a devilishly evil grin, I beckoned her to me with the curling white French tip of my forefinger. She was being sluggish and rather reluctant in crawling towards my eager waiting muffin but soon Valerie managed to snuggle into my parted thighs as the soft pointed tip of her tongue brushed timidly between the open lips of my outward flowered sex. Even though this may have been physically new and unnatural for her in the beginning, she unquestionably learned rather quickly just how to please another woman.

 

Her increasingly silky and more arousing persistence eventually found the true mark as she teased my clitoris with little stiff fluttering flicks. Aside from this intoxicating stimulation, there was a certain unlikely thought that she was actually totally unwilling in all this, which soon had me swooning and moaning with pleasure. It appeared to incite her as she then forced her tongue deeper into me. Mindlessly I grabbed Valerie head and her own gasping breathes became more labored and frenzied as she probed my gushing pink tunnel which soon sent me up over the edge and into a sky exploding orgasmic show of ecstasy. Oh yesss... 

 

"Uh-uh-uhmmmmmmmmmmm... OHOOooooooooooooooooo…”

 

I slowly regained control and came back down to reality.

 

“That was intensely adequate Valerie, and very surprising for someone who has never even thought of pleasing another woman before."

 

There was nothing said of any consequence in reply, other then her stifled unintelligible groaning and sallow panting as I finished by rubbing Valerie's nose into my fuzzy oozing sex. She was released from between my legs and pushed back with just a stiff finger to one shoulder. It left her kneeling there at my feet looking rather inept after she had landed back against the heel spikes of her pink leather pomp's.

 

In this compromising position, my sad and sticky face little princess and her insistent airs of proper morals now visibly vanished as I watched her shamefully smear my proverbial ripe peach juices from her moistened glistening lips and chin. She kneeled there fighting back her impish inner demons as I straightened my panties and made my outward appearance much more ladylike again.

 

"Wipe your face with a few tissues Valerie, and then go start cleaning out your desk immediately. You may tell the other girls anything you wish, but as of this moment, you have knowingly resigned and will be leaving this office like a well behaved pet with your owner."

 

Again Valerie had managed to regain a little of her dignity and quickly got back on her high horse as she gave me a smoldering angry look for making her out as nothing more then a pet. Of course this was only going to get this furious little sprite my personal added efforts in humiliating her further. It was going to be deliciously fun (I thought) breaking my stubborn little nymphet of her free spirited ways by making her ride a narrow wooden beam of my own erotic design. I would enjoy spurring such a vivacious filly on with my tasseled buggy whip while she is hangs up by her wrists.

 

"Well now... Are we having any second thoughts Miss Johnson?"

 

This inquiry however was the only prodding she needed at that moment to get Valerie back up on those pretty pink shoe tips and heading with new meaning out the door.

 

When it was obediently closed behind her, I thought to call Ms Miller and let her know of Valerie Johnson's consensual dismissal. I briefly went over the impartial and amicable reasons for this action and my decision in dropping any subsequent charges (little did she know) and Miss Johnson would agree to sign any waivers and a letter saying she would be responsible for making restitution. Cynthia seemed happy to leave the matter in my hands and thanked me for handling it so professionally and discreetly.

 

While wearing my own knowing little smile, I reached back along the desk and hang up the phone.  Reveling in this cleverly mastered achievement, I crossed my legs in such a manner so they pinched my hot heated sex very tightly.

 

Oh yes, some things feel amazingly wonderful when they come together so very nicely with just a pinch of a females professional  intuition indeed.