The CEO and the Cleaning Lady – Part 3: A Second Mistress

Victoria’s penthouse was exactly what Alex imagined—opulent, cold, and drenched in elegance. Black marble floors, crimson velvet drapes, and a glass table that shimmered under designer lighting. Everything screamed power. Just like her.

He lay inside her purse, wrapped in silk panties she’d casually tossed on him like a joke. He’d tried to peek out during the car ride, but her thumb always came down to push him back into the dark with a whispered “Not yet, pet.”

Now, as she unzipped the bag and lifted him out, her smirk widened.

“We have company tonight,” she said.

Alex barely had time to react before he heard the sound of heels approaching. Then a voice, honey-smooth and dripping with mischief:

“Ooooh. So this is the little man you’ve been texting me about.”

The woman who stepped into view was devastating. Long legs in sheer black stockings, short leather skirt, and a sharp jawline softened only by the playfulness in her eyes. Her name was Celeste—Victoria’s best friend, and clearly, her match in dominance.

“I thought you were exaggerating,” Celeste said, leaning in. “But he’s perfect. Look at him squirm.”

Victoria placed Alex on the glass coffee table between them. Two goddesses, both looking down at him like he was dessert.

“I haven’t let him cum once,” Victoria said casually, sipping her wine. “He’s been so obedient. But I thought it was time he experienced a little… variety.”

Celeste knelt, her red lips now level with Alex’s tiny frame. Her breath washed over him like warm air from a vent.

“Do you want to serve me too, little toy?” she whispered.

He nodded, voice barely audible. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Mmm. Good boy,” she purred. “But here’s the game—we’re going to share you. And you’re going to beg to decide whose feet you want more.”

She slipped off her heels, revealing nylon-clad feet, and pressed her toes next to Victoria’s bare soles. The contrast was intoxicating. Silk vs. skin. Sharp vs. soft. Dominance squared.

Alex’s world became a battlefield of goddesses.

He tried to please both, crawling from one to the other, kissing and licking, moaning as each woman teased him, mocked him, challenged him to be better.

“Look how eager he is,” Victoria laughed. “I think he loves the humiliation.”

“He’s dripping,” Celeste said, smirking. “But no touching himself unless we say so. Understood, pet?”

Alex gasped, nodding.

“Say it,” Victoria ordered, crossing her legs like a queen.

“I understand… I belong to you both. I won’t touch myself without permission.”

“Good,” Celeste said, her foot nudging him onto his back. “Because next time—we’re going to use you in ways you haven’t even imagined.”

As the women toasted above him, laughing and sipping wine, Alex lay flat, breathless, broken, and euphoric.

And his night was just beginning.