Mary Sanchez still had no idea what had happened. She had gone through the rest of that day in a daze, which she thought was because of the way the two young men had raped her and made her cum over and over.
She decided to talk to Ms. Filmore about it, and went to the woman's office.
"Come in and sit down, Mrs. Sanchez," Ms. Filmore said. She really was a striking looking woman, in her early forties but still quite beautiful, with a slim, well defined face with full lips and a tall, taut body that looked as firm as Mary's under her dress.
Mary was of course wearing the usual outfit; she was uncomfortably aware of how large her breasts looked as Ms. Filmore shut the door. "Umm," she started, but ms. Filmore cut her off.
"Would you like something to drink, my dear?" the older lady asked, and then smiled when Mary said coffee would be fine. She stayed facing forward, and Ms. Filmore poured some extra powder into Mary's cup. The Mexican woman took so much sugar and cream she would never taste the drug. She certainly hadn't tasted it the other day when the two boys fucked the shit out of her, Ms. Filmore thought to herself.
"Come sit on the couch dear - I take it this is a personal matter?" Ms. Filmore radiated sympathy, but her firm, grapefruit sized breasts were already swelling at the thought of what might happen in the next few minutes.
She urged Mary to drink her coffee, and put the maid at ease by talking of other stuff. She fixed Mary another cup, and poured more of the powder into it. The effects would last a while, but they would hit quickly as well. The drug was not even that powerful, Ms. Filmore reflected. It caused some euphoria, and made sensations a bit more exotic, but most of all, it loosened inhibitions by a fairly wide margin.
Ms. Filmore poured a bit more milk into Mary's cup, and then urged the maid to drink it down quickly. "Yes, that's good, dear," she said softly as Mary set the empty cup down. Her eyes were slightly unfocused now. "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked.
Mary blinked, and tried to focus. She was feeling strange again, but she had to tell someone, she had to get this off of her chest. She had never cheated on her husband, and she abhorred her actions. In a halting, stammering voice, she told Ms. Filmore what had happened. Ms. Filmore listened sympathetically, and rubbed Mary's shoulders as she came to the end of her story.
"How hard did you try to fight them off, dear?" Ms. Filmore asked, and Mary blushed prettily, and looked around the room. She had left out the part about her orgasms, and the fact that she had willingly swallowed Sammy's cum and fucked herself onto Rex's big hard cock.
Mary shook her head suddenly. What was wrong with her? She asked herself. The feel of Ms. Filmore's hands on her shoulder was suddenly making her nipples stiffen through the thin uniform.
"I suppose the first thing we should do is inspect you for physical evidence," Ms. Filmore said. "Did they leave any bruises on you?"
"I . . . I don't know," Mary stammered. She was just glad Ms. Filmore was taking charge, that she knew what to do. A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her - but a nice dizziness. For the first time, she thought something might have been put in the coffee, but she was too intimidated by the situation and the tall, blond woman to ask.
"Very well then, let's get this unfastened, shall we?" Ms. Filmore said, and reached up and unfastened the top button on the woman's little maid's outfit. Ms. Filmore had to admit, Mary's body was made for the outfit.
"What are you doing?" Mary gasped as Ms. Filmore's long, graceful fingers slipped the second button open.
"Don't worry, dear, I just want to inspect your breasts for bruises. If we're going to call the police, we need to see if there is any evidence that supports you."
Mary jut bit her lip; that seemed to make sense, after all, as Ms. Filmore unfastened her buttons all the way to her waist. Then the older woman was pushing the uniform off of Mary's shoulders and down her arms. Mary looked around, uncomfortably aware that her nipples were still as hard as little pieces of cork.