�Nah. I was just asking meself, same as what you was Trish. Dey might be red or blue. Lenf of that bloody dress she�s almost got on, and we�re sure to find out afore the day�s gone, eh Trish!

Both women then chortled, but still carried on with their work on the constant conveyor.

�What�s �er name den?� Trisha asked ten seconds later.

�Ooze?�

�Der new girl in Accounts: der red �ead. What�s �er name?�

�Oh. I �erd it were �Petal� or suffink like dat� Martha assured, her tone suggesting she had authoritative contacts in �high places�: sources not shared by anyone else.

�Rose Petal would suit �er wouldn�t it? She ain�t �alf got lovely skin.� she went on.

�I �ear she comes to work in Milandia�s auto, so I bet she�s shacking up wiv der boss�, Trisha speculated.

�I bet she cums to what, in what?!� Martha responded, trumpeting her nearest ear in pretence she was deaf and hadn�t heard the previous sentence.

This did not get the laugh intended. Instead Trisha almost stopped work as she speculated: �Just imagine that �eh. Bet she can�t keep �er �ands off of �erself: I mean, �ow could yer, if you was as pretty as dat, an� built like dat eh?�

At that point, Petalina walked onto the factory floor, and began to walk up the open lattice staircase to where the office worker�s lavatory was located.

As her sweet face smiled at the two talkative girls near the staircase, Trisha and Martha fell shyly silent and appeared to be concentrating on their work without time to look up from it.

But after Petalina had traipsed her treasure in very leggy measured steps, to where she would deal with her crimson, the two women looked at each other and knowingly mouthed in unison, their agreement that today they were indeed: �Green!�

.

For pretty Petalina, passing her golden wine was now a very difficult business, and worse still was ridding her menstruum.

In the ladies� lavatory, Petalina lowered her panties, whilst all the while fighting her urgent need to do the necessary. In her bleed week she stored her wine this way, because she needed a good flow of pee to hose her seep out.

In her situation, she found it best to seat herself with her thighs pressed up to her breasts. And, to ensure her urine would flow into the lavatory bowl, to put a pretty hand between her thighs to direct the multiple sprinkles to become a single stream.

For pretty Petalina, passing her golden wine was now a very difficult business.

Lifting her skirt so it was well off her lower body, and with her tiny tight thong panties binding her ankles, almost as if she were featuring in some kind of BDSM story, she placed her shoes� heels within the rim of the toilet�s seat and looked down toward her lower mouth, between thighs made monumental by her purposeful pose; and paused; put a sweet hand in front of her slit, fingers downward, and then peed profusely.

As she urinated, she peeked between her enormous thighs, and was relieved as she relieved herself, to see her wine pass from Oporto red, to sweet rosé, and then to pure white, as her peeing flushed out her moon cycle sacrifice to the altar of pulchritudinous potency.

Petalina was used to this vile indignity now, and had found this way, this stance, this mode of sitting, was the best, indeed, the only way to ensure her pee escaped neatly, rather than showering her gorgeous thighs and going almost everywhere bar where wished it to.

No concession had been made for her need to urinate and menstruate.

Her powerful piss would have to wash out her vestibule when she was menstruating, and this it did because its hissing jet shot back off the insides of her outer lips and hosed her out before it seeped in tiny jets.

It would be nice if there were a bidet in this room Petalina mused, as she washed her hands afterwards, just before pulling up her panties to hold a new panty-liner in place, and then running enquiring fingers around the simply skimpy panty boundaries, to ensure they were not folded-in anywhere.

The stitches had been painful at first. They made her delicate flesh very sore because they were pulled so tight. But that soreness had eventually abated. And that was not because they had got any degree looser. Their defence of her virtue was still absolute.

Petalina�s complete infibulation was very thorough in performing its duty.

As Petalina�s contribution to countess, for the countess having repaid her momma�s debts to Girls-ALoan, the countess had insisted upon Petalina being sewn-up.

Furthermore, her mouth, her lovely mouth, was protected by a ball-stud with its two hemispheres screwed together by an axle penetrating her tongue. A stud large enough to prevent her tongue being reached out beyond the duty of licking her delicious lips: with even that only possible to perform with its extreme tip. The ball-stud coincidently gave Petalina�s sweet voice a very sexy innocent�s lisp.

The stainless-steel conical covers completely encapsulating her captivating nipples, and held hard over them by rivet-headed horizontal rods piercing Petalina�s fresh girl�s flesh, also put those sensitive signals of her signal joy at sexual arousal, forever out of play�s way.

Petalina�s other penance had been the total ban on her having any contact whatsoever with Namatina.

For now though, Petalina pulled up her panties, and the panty-liner she wore hid the ridge formed by the way her lips had been drawn together so that they pouted, and the pout then sewn tight closed forever, with neat hand-worked stitches that sealed her completely.

.

Petalina did not want to hurry back to the office. She knew Milandia had a meeting at 15.00, and was looking forward to the peace and quiet when her boss was not there for a while.

It was not the work that she could not cope with: it was another pressure that was getting to her.

To prolong her stay in the lavatory, a lovely ghost looked at her flaming curls, and caressed them with long fingers into acutely cute conformity.

For such a highly intelligent girl it had taken a long time for the penny to drop, that, when she had just now climbed the stairs to spend that same metaphorical penny, the two girls who worked just below that stairway must have had the heavenly view up Petalina�s dress: they must have been able to see everything!

Now the realisation raced to her, Petalina blushed so deeply that her shyness caused pretty tears to teeter on her lower eyelids.

And she must shortly wiggle the same gauntlet!

.

The click and clack of Petalina�s stilettos sounded sensational to Trisha and Martha�s ears. With such an erotic sound as foreplay, they did not need to nudge each other to remind themselves to look up as Petalina came down. But both girls noted that there was not as good a view that way, and thus they must look forward to Petalina going the other way again, later in the day.

Despite that Petalina had done nothing other than to be her natural charming self with them, the two young women - Trisha and Martha � established the distance between �them and us�: between the factory-girls such as they, and �management� such as Petalina, by letting Petalina hear them saying:

�I fink green�s a smashing colour don�t you Martha?� on the one part. And, in case Petalina thought they might only be talking about her Parisian couture outfit, responding: �Oh yea, smashing: but meself, I prefers to wear knickers what covers me bum!�

Petalina hung her head and hurried by. And two young women individually wished they could bite back their spiteful words; but were not going to lose face by seeking for that to become their combined view.

.

Milandia Loveworthy lived up to her name; in her own interpretation of it that is.

She had risen like a rocket from the factory floor, because the predecessor in the post Milandia now occupied, had done the same just before her, and gone on to HQ over in Tokyo, leaving the vacancy.

The predecessor in Milandia�s post had chosen Milandia because she liked a nice pair of legs, and Milandia had a great pair, and gorgeous green eyes that startled with champagne�s sparkle, framed by her soft nut-brown shoulder-length hair with its saucy fringe.

Petalina had been recruited from outside, because Milandia had done her MBA and read her Fessenstein, and because she � Petalina - too had great legs.

Between her duty to devastate the women and girls on the factory floor, the flawless Petalina sat working on a PC just outside Milandia�s office.

The pain of sitting with her stitches was something Petalina had only just got used to.

Sitting caused the stitches through her love-lips to pull painfully. Nonetheless she managed.

But, despite that she had not yet been with the company for a full day, she already dreaded Milandia putting her head around the door of her inner office partition and saying: �Miss Goldkiss!� For at that Petalina knew she was expected to enter dutifully in and sit her one-hundred pounds of plus-perfect confection on the boss� knee: on Milandia�s stockinged knees.

So sat, precariously and trying to smile to please, Milandia would expect Petalina to pencil notes in a pad always left at readiness on the corner of Milandia�s desk, and would use the excuse to feel the hot flesh of the inside of Petalina�s right thigh, whilst both girls pretended that that was not really happening.

In such circumstances, Petalina�s position was precarious in two ways.

Firstly, the perch she purchased on the thirty-year-old Milandia�s shapely knees, necessitated her raising her feet out of her shoes and pointing her toes to the ground, giving her calves exceptionally sexy shape, as her big toes sought to balance her, so as, Milandia assumed, to keep her full mass from pressing down on the sensitivity central to every girl�s centre of gravity: the lips which Milandia was seeking should feel her stockinged thighs pressing up on them. Unbeknown to Milandia of course, Petalina lifted her sweet weight for fear her humiliating infibulation would be felt by Milandia�s handsome thighs.

And, secondly, Petalina knew that, if she upset her employer in any way, she could and probably would be dismissed in the instant, and she had no other employment to go to at the time.

�Take a note please Miss Goldkiss�, Milandia insisted as 15.00 arrived and passed and she showed no interest in, or intent of letting Petalina off her knee to go to the meeting in her diary.

�Take a note please Miss Goldkiss. It must read as follows: �Milandia Loveworthy invites the gorgeous Petalina Goldkiss to wine and dine at her home tonight at eight. Miss Goldkiss need bring nothing bar her adorable self, and, if she insists on wearing one, a nightdress�. Now read that back to me if you would please�, Milandia instructed.

�Are you okay Petalina, I notice that you are very hot?�

Petalina did not answer and tried not to show her relief as Milandia concluded for herself: �Tch! I�m such a stupid mare! You�re on a losing-streak aren�t you: you�re having your monthly?

Petalina nodded confirmation of her weeping femininity.

�Okay, okay, nature wins out this time sweetheart, but I�m going to get you rocking and rolling on top of my queen-size duvet, that you can bet on as a certainty, Petalina.that is an absolute dead cert�.

Petalina sensed she was supposed to be flattered by this, and tried, with adequate success, to convey a pleased and honoured look, as she traipsed ballet-beautiful steps out of the room, so that she might sigh with relief out of Milandia�s sight.

.

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