Commodity
Good morning my corporate slut,
I heard a sweet word come across your lips the other day, and it stuck with me. The word, I think, was “commodities.” Of course, I don’t remember anything else you said after that or what you were even talking about. By then, I was already in my pleasant little masturbatory fantasy land, pondering something entirely different.
I wanted a whole new level of objectification.
In essence, I decided right then and there that I would be turning you, my treasured corporate slut, into a “commodity.” You already know how turned on I get about using you in ways that turn your body into an object, make you into a simple batch of “holes” for the use of my friends and partygoers.
But it had to be something different, something more extreme.
Not just putting your fine body in the sexiest, most uncomfortable pink lace. The thigh high stockings that make your legs look so tight. The lace bra that digs uncomfortably into your shoulder blades but makes me squirm with delight. The thong that rides up your ass crack so you are hesitant to even get up from your desk to get coffee.
It’s not just the discomfort and how ridiculously and deliciously uneasy you are when dressed up so sexy for me underneath your corporate shell.
It’s the idea that you will be reduced to a commodity – for me – a piece of currency to be bought, sold and traded for merchandise or cash. It’s the idea of reducing you to a piece of sexual meat, and knowing that I will attract high value because I have trained you to be such an efficient cocksucker, such an unwavering cum-bucket, and so willing to take any kind of sexual humiliation in order to put a smile on my face.
Knowing that you will drop everything in a moment’s notice, drop to your knees, and become my slave again is what makes me so hot and wet. Because this is such a contrast to your powerful, confident corporate demeanor, I find myself sometimes unable to stop thinking about it.
It’s time, I think, to see what you’d do as a true commodity. There’s a fetish party coming up in two weeks, and I have it all planned out.
I know when you read this, you are either nervous and excited, or your cock is dripping in your pink panties. When you return from work this evening, I am going to do a very close inspection. I expect those panties to be soaking wet, and you will kneel down and lick them out in front of me in order to earn the right to hear the full details of the party. But for now, I will share a few of my plans.
**
In order to turn you into a mere commodity, the appropriate dress must be selected. I decided you are going to wear nothing but your locking cock cage and a tight red panty. You will be wearing a collar and leash of course, and the hood will be spectacular.
The hood is special to me because I picked it out with this event in mind. There aren’t even eyeholes; it’s got a built-in blindfold. You will be seeing NOTHING the whole evening. You will be locked in darkness from the moment we get out of the car, and the only holes are two small nose holes and an optional opening for the mouth.
Since you are a commodity, I expect to get a lot of traded value for the use of your mouth – so I wanted that open. Blindfolded, on a leash, you are going to be led around the party and overhear me offer your mouth and ass in exchange for goods and cash. I won’t tell you how this party theme came together, but I can assure you that you will hear me negotiating with women and couples about the value of your dick sucking, and at times I will be lifting a “show dildo” to your lips and ordering a quick demo at the request of the other guests.
You are to obey everything immediately and passionately, because if I am ever turned down by a potential customer, it will mean the inflatable plug in your ass is expanded a little more. Until, of course, you cannot take it any longer. Will I miss those tear stained cheeks underneath the confines of the relentless leather hood? Shame.
The highlight of the evening will be when I watch you endure the close of the transaction. On all fours, your ass and mouth open for use, dual dildos from gloriously full figured women in strapons, riding you until their own orgasms. Your capability to take a large, thick dildo for hours will fetch me a nice reward. The entire evening, you will not see a thing – your evening will be measured by the feel of a big cock in your mouth or slapping your cheek to get your attention, or the laughter of the women as they see you assume your position on all fours or on your back with your knees pulled up to your chest.
When we get home at the end of the evening and I remove the hood, I expect to see swollen lips from a long night of sucking cock, and perhaps a few dried tears. The outside of the hood may be stained with cum from various facial shots, but I am sure, as a last act of devotion, you will clean it up with your tongue.
Affectionately,
Mistress Akasha
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