One day at the Construction Site

In the badly ventilated shack of the office at the construction site, the work inspector is squirming on a squeaky metallic chair, waiting for the foreman to show up for the interview she's come here to conduct for the Government. She's wearing a very short navy blue skirt and a light creamy blouse; her strict ponytail, carefully made-up face, nylon tights and high heels, make her look like a porcelain cup stranded in a squalid bar. Is she nervous? Maybe, but appearances can be deceptive. Her nervousness has nothing to do with feeling she's in the wrong place, and everything to do with hoping to be in the right one. In the latest issue of Curve, her go-to lesbian magazine, there has been a feature about female construction workers, including pictures that she has flipped through more than once. With one hand only. Women in denim pants, naked from the waist up and showing off their abs, sweat on skin; butch types in hardhats, checkered shirts and Doc Martens; and this one AI-generated picture of a young woman in profile who wears a half undone jumpsuit revealing her naked left hip, flank and breast while she is pulling on a heavy rust-covered chain. The toned arms, the slim body glistening with sweat, the threatening undertones of the machines around her... Antonia has always been drawn to the gender-bending types, the danger and transgression. To how mundane situations can be suffused with lust, if you have the right mindset to see it. Touching herself to that picture, she had felt licked and filthy, sinning almost. She had cum like her life was on the line. So yes, she has to admit it to herself: her apparent edginess is nothing but arousal. The shabbiness of the office, far from putting her off, is actually what's making her wet.

Adding to the suffocating heat, a storm is now brewing outside. Antonia is sweating profusely, and the acrid scent of her armpits mixing with her delicate perfume turns her on even more. She undoes yet another button of her blouse to give more heaving space to her ample breasts, and tries to study her preliminary notes on the company. Malpractice, overpricing, delays--this whole operation stinks! They're going to be severely punished!! She can't help squeezing her thighs together when this last word pops into her mind; her clenching pussy makes the cream already pooling in her entrance squirt out, soaking her thong. She can picture her so clearly, the girl in the jumpsuit, now staring at her with unchecked lust and a cruel smile. Her tongue unfurling to lick the chain, eyes shredding my clothes, beckoning me to join her. Punished! Yes, please I need to be punished... "Fuck, Toni! Focus, will you?" she blurts out aloud, snapping back to the stuffy office. An experienced woman, Antonia is known in the profession for upholding a rigorous standard of work ethics, which has earned her a nickname around the businesses she inspects, and who fear her: The Punisher. Yet, little do people know that in the privacy of her bedroom, she only invites women who punish her; that she turns from inspector to inspected when, naked on all fours with her wrists in cuffs and a spreader bar forcing her legs open, she submits to sadistic Dommes who appraise her like a vulgar bag of goods, their hands gloved in black latex impersonally probing and pinching and testing her body before they deign ruin her.

Soon, the vision of the jumpsuit girl blooms again in Antonia's mind like a perverse flower of lust, but this time she is sitting on her lap stark naked, legs wide open, and slowly rubs her mound on the navy blue skirt, whose thin material is quickly soaking. Antonia can smell the impious aroma wafting up with each roll of the girl's hips. The rusty chain is now wrapped around her throat, she gasps for air and instantly feels a slick thread of drool flow into her mouth. She drinks it as in a trance. A surge of dirty desires submerges her body. Yes, please!... More spit! The last shred of modesty leaves Antonia The Punisher. She urgently hoists up her skirt and pulls her panties to the side, sinking two fingers up to the knuckles into her creamy cunt. Curling them up, she hits her spot and rubs at it in slow, powerful circlets, hips bucking off the chair to fuck herself harder. She spits on the fingers of her other hand and urgently brings them down to her hard clit, rubbing the gorged flesh faster, faster faster faaassteeeerr... fuuccckkk!! Antonia cums at the exact moment when her lust-crazed brain shows her the girl ripping a golden jet in her mouth and all over her face, making it drip with acrid rivulets of hot pee--in truth, she's sweating so much that her fantasy feels real.

Lost in her moans, Antonia is licking her lips, basking in the afterglow of her furious orgasm. She keeps bringing her soaked fingers up to her mouth to taste herself, plunging them back inside her leaking cunt, again and again. Totally unaware that, standing at the door only a few feet behind her, the construction site's crane operator has been watching her in silence for some time. Muscular arms crossed on her ample breasts, she literally devours Antonia with her eyes, her pierced tongue curled up, slowly licking her upper lip. Close-cropped blue hair, the oblong black eyes and high cheekbones of a Chinese woman, she wears a white tank top that lets her nipple piercings show through, dirty gray chinos and heavy security boots. At well over six feet tall, her body is probably on the far side of 200 pounds, which she wears with the aggressive grace of a prowling tigress. A tigress in heat, sizing up her prey.

"He's not coming," she suddenly says in a deep, masculine voice.

Antonia jumps on her chair and swivels around to find herself facing the crane operator's predatory grin. Seeing the big woman's eyes shift and grow wet with lust, she realizes a little too late that she's sitting with her thighs still wide open, her panties pulled to one side, her dripping pussy and bulging clit exposed, raw from masturbation. Past her initial surprise, she decides not to cover herself. Or rather, her pussy decides for her: as if the beam of lust shining from the tigress's eyes were licking it, Antonia's cunt clenches and a lazy dollop of creamy juices oozes out of her entrance.

Unfazed, but in a huskier tone of voice, the woman resumes: "Albert, the foreman... he is not coming. The useless wanker chickened out when he learned an inspection was scheduled, and you were the appointed inspector. Typical, right! Why are the small dicks with no balls always the ones in charge around here? Or at least, they pretend to be... Anyway, when word got around that The Punisher in person was going to be here today, I had to step down from my crane and come right away to see you with my own eyes. And God! did I get an eyeful!... still getting it, actually!" This last sentence she speaks with a raised eyebrow and a slight thrust of her chin pointing at Antonia's shamelessly exposed parts, whose shaved skin glistens sinfully in the crude light of the office.

Antonia cannot help but smile at having been caught red-handed by this amazing giant of a woman. She herself is not petite, but that girl could easily gobble her up and spit out her bones for breakfast! This arouses her tremendously. Being overpowered by a strong woman has always been one of her recurrent fantasies--most girls posing in that issue of Curve had thick muscular thighs, shiny with sweat, and Antonia had pictured herself riding them, rubbing her cunt on their taut skin before lying down to munch on their fat-lipped pussies, while those thighs were wrapped around her shoulders, crushing her powerless body. Pressing harder... harder, fuucckk yess... can't breathe... feels so good, so fucking good... crush meeeee!!

"I am Mei, by the way," says the woman matter-of-factly. "And sure, I don't have balls either, but at least my cock is big!"

The big bulge in Mei's cargo pants had not escaped Antonia's notice, and now it's her turn to lick her lips. In a seductive reflex, her hand instinctively flies up to tug on her ponytail, revealing the sweat stain spreading at her armpit. Her thighs are still wide open, the patch of seat between them is slick with juices, so much so that some starts dripping to the floor. This seems to send the signal Mei has been waiting for to pounce. One powerful stride is enough for her to reach out, grab the inspector by the neck and force her up to her feet. The squishy sound made by Antonia's wet core suddenly torn off from the chair is insanely dirty. Another single stride, and Mei is pinning Antonia by the neck so high against the wall that her dangling feet barely touch the floor. Antonia moans at being turned into such a helpless puppet. "You like it rough, inspector, don't you?" Mei growls. Antonia nods with a whimper. "I knew you would," Mei grins. Shifting her grip, she swiftly grabs her prey's wrists and holds them high up above Antonia's head, exposing her sweat-soaked armpits. She leans down to burrow her nose there, sniffing loudly. She unfurls her pierced tongue and gives the soaked blouse slow, broad licks, tasting the adrenaline and the lust on the material. Both women moan at the same time.

"My, my, Inspector! Are you that needy already?", Mei smirks. "Maybe I can help, huh?" Her other hand moves down to start toying with the hem of Antonia's skirt. "Why don't you let me... well... inspect you, first?" In one swift move, Mei's paw cups Antonia's pussy with a loud slap. Antonia squeals as she pretends to squirm away while in reality she's grinding her hips into the hand now clutching and kneading her cunt. Letting go of her wrists to grab her jaw with full force, the tigress growls: "Huh-huh! Look at me, inspector! Look at me!" Antonia's eyes are veiled with a mix of lust and fear. "Good girls don't move away from what they crave most, now, do they?" Mei brings her hand up for the good girl in question to see. "Especially when they are wet little sluts!... Come on, taste yourself, I know you want to."

"Yes, Ma'am..."

"Manners!"

"Yes please, Ma'am, may I taste myself?"

"See? You are a good slut!" And she rubs her fingers on the inspector's tongue, reaching far down into her throat. Letting go of Antonia's jaw, Mei hurriedly unzips her pants and pulls out her black leather strap. Massive. Smooth. Erect. Unrelentingly hard as the tip rubs against Antonia's slit, pressing on her clit.

"Now, shall we proceed with a more thorough inspection?"

"Nghhhh..."

"Use your words like a big girl, inspector!"

"Pleeeaaase!...." Almost a sob, so needy, so greedy.

"Oh, shut the fuck up already!"

And in one powerful move, Mei grabs her thighs and lifts her up, back propped against the wall.

"Holy lesbian Jesus! Look at you, you are dripping all over my work boots. And just when I was out of lube, how convenient!... Now, keep your eyes down and watch my cock slide in and out of your filthy cunt. Don't you dare miss one inch of that show, and no cumming before I say so, understood?!"

Ten intense minutes later, the Tigress picks up her broken prey's panties from the floor where the prey's body lies, slumped and spent in a pool of her own squirt.

"Come back tonight if you feel like inspecting me, Inspector. That might help our company in your report, you'll say how well-oiled our operation is! How juicy a deal we offer our clients!... I'll be waiting for you at the top of the metallic stairs over there." Then, bringing the panties up to her nose and inhaling the scent before shoving them in her tank top, right between her boobs, Mei winks: "I'll keep these, I might want to play in the meantime."