The familiar squirt of the lubrication bottle. The feel of my latex palms spreading your ass cheeks. Oh, it won’t be the actual penetration that will degrade you. It will be how I whisper in your ear right behind your head but you can’t see me. Just hear the dirty, degrading things I say to you as I start penetrating you with my fingers.
Hello my corporate slut,
I hope you won’t take offense.
Today, I just don’t feel like seeing your face.
It’s not that I don’t adore your stubble, your strong jawbone, your piercing eyes and perfectly managed hair. It’s not that I don’t want to see your smile, or watch your eyes as they shift from curious to terrified.
Maybe it’s part of the whole objectification thing. Ever since I got up this morning, I can’t stop thinking of having you face down. Completely. The entire time.
Roughly used. Face pressed down into the carpet of your plush office. My hand in a fist at the back of your head, pushing your face down with every thrust of my hips.
A very anonymous, rushed, tremendously objectifying “visit” is what I have on my mind right now. One where you start just where I want you to remain the entire time – face down, on the ground, with your hands above your head. Holding very, very still.
You may wish to react when you feel me straddle you from behind, hear the ruffle of leather and lace as I pull up my skirt first, then ease down my panties. The feel of your belt being removed unceremoniously as I might get a snicker when you have to lift your ass ever so slightly to give me access to the front.
You’ll just be pushed right back down though. As soon as I pull down your pants, then slide down the lace red thong I put you in this morning, just around your thighs. I don’t need a lot of room to do what I am going to do.
Granted, I haven’t event decided. My cock, or just a violation of my fingers? You might sit there telling yourself it couldn’t be so bad. But hearing the snap of the latex gloves behind you as you keep your face pressed into the carpet, unable to look, to see anything, you might reconsider just how humiliating it could be.
The familiar squirt of the lubrication bottle. The feel of my latex palms spreading your ass cheeks. Oh, it won’t be the actual penetration that will degrade you. It will be how I whisper in your ear right behind your head but you can’t see me. Just hear the dirty, degrading things I say to you as I start penetrating you with my fingers.
First one. Then two. Maybe three. In and out, whispering you to “shut the fuck up, whore,” and “take it like a slut,” and maybe make you beg – face down, against the dirty carpet. Knowing your face is getting interesting little imprints across the forehead as I just keep pumping. And sliding. And twisting. Seeing what kinds of interesting sounds I can get from you.
If you’re lucky, I may give you a slight diversion or two. Maybe I will straddle one of your thighs and pump my crotch against your warm skin, letting you feel how wet your degradation is making me. Maybe I’ll use a vibrating egg for a bit, then slide it into one of my stockings, reach down and tell you to open wide. A perfectly shaped, slick, dripping wet ball, perhaps still vibrating between your teeth, could prove to be a nice little distraction.
How long will it last? I really couldn’t tell you. But I do know one thing for sure; you will never get to look at me. This time, you’ll take the entire thing face down. That’s exactly how I want you.
Affectionately,
Mistress Akasha
(c) Copyright 2023. All rights reserved. akasha@akashaweb.com
