And when you struggle, I will only want it more. Want to feel your desperate breathing right through my panties, right through me.
Good morning my slave,
Is your door closed?
I have just returned from a business trip and will be visiting you today. You’d better be dressed and plugged appropriately and ready for your inspection.
Do you enjoy your inspections? You know I do. You know I enjoy those random moments when I make you bend over, naked, exposing yourself completely to me. You know I like to make you feel violated and objectified.
That is how you will feel today.
It has been so long (4 days now) since I had my hands on your body. Felt the lingerie against your skin. I miss that soft, silky touch. I miss watching you writhe and twist underneath my firm hands while I explore every inch of you.
I feel evil today. Does that scare you? Four days away has rekindled my desire to break you, to prove once again that you are mine.
You will see that when I arrive.
***
When I arrive today, you are to meet me in the lobby of your office. This time, I want you to come down and get me.
Why do I want to do it this way?
Because I want to watch you walk through your office with such confidence and pride. I want to see everyone move aside for you.
It will make it all the better when I strip you of everything.
**
“Strip.”
One word, in the privacy of your office. Bent over your desk. You will feel my hands unbuckling your belt and unzipping your trousers. My right hand will slide down your pants and feel what is mine.
What belongs to me.
I’ll give you a firm squeeze to remind you just how much power I have over you. Do you remember what that feels like? To have a hand so tightly around your balls that you whimper inadvertently?
I miss those wonderful, desperate sounds.
As I type this, I smile, thinking of how you will look standing before me in lace panties and bra, in high heels.
“Turn around and bend over.”
You knew this was an inspection, didn’t you?
**
Bent over your own desk, legs spread apart, you will once again feel me violate you. Invade you. Penetrate you.
Cold and clinical, so unlike the times at home when I make love to your ass slowly and deliberately. No, this is an inspection.
This is to make sure you did not fuck up while I was gone.
Should you pass the inspection, you’ll be put in your reclining chair tied down, and then have to do what I really came for.
Do you know what that is?
**
Perhaps it will be more clear when I sit on your desk, legs open, my skirt hiking up to reveal thigh highs. I’ll order you to remove my panties with your teeth.
Have you forgotten how to do that?
You know, though, my whore, when I feel your hot breath at my thighs I will not be able to resist. I will want to close my legs and trap you there. Trap your face between my thighs, against my wet panties. You will feel the soft, humid material pressed against your face. And when you struggle, I will only want it more. Want to feel your desperate breathing right through my panties, right through me.
Can you smell that?
I’ll probably be leaning back over your desk by then, propped up on elbows, resting on contracts and memos and everything that used to be of importance to you before your face was trapped against my pussy.
Working your tongue, your teeth, trying anything to get those wet panties off of me. You will feel my high heels pressed into your shoulders. Holding you just where I want you.
Are you ready for your lunch?
*
I’ve fantasized often about feeding you an entire meal from my pussy. Making you eat it, one bite at a delicate time.
Maybe this will be the day.
I just know that I will want you to spend the better part of your lunch hour with your tongue between my legs. You’ll be reclined back all the way in your chair with the weight of my body right on your face.
Forced to lick me, in just the ways I command it. All the while I get to watch you in your slut clothes, watch how your body moves. Watch those lace panties on your ass, how they ride up the crack and make you look like such a whore.
That may be of little interest to me, though. I think my mind will be elsewhere – on your capable tongue, lapping hungrily at my pussy as I order you to make me cum.
You’ve been missed, and have a lot of time to make up with me.
This is only our lunch meeting.
Have I told you what I have planned for dinner?
**
You are taking me out to a fine dinner tonight, so you’d better pick up the phone and start making the arrangements. I want to be surprised.
Make sure you take me to a place where we can have a nice quiet booth with just the right amount of privacy.
You’ll be dressed normally, and I intend to wear a skin tight black dress, low cut. When I sit across from you, you will get just enough glimpse of my thigh to see that I am wearing thigh highs again.
Under the table I plan to tease you. Tease you mercilessly.
You will not be allowed to cum, or to touch yourself all day. Our dinner tonight will be special. I have four days of pent up passion; you will feel just how frustrated I am.
I am going to make you feel it even worse.
Sliding off my wet panties under the table (did you know I was masturbating?) and sliding them over to you, watching you fumble to find a place to put them.
“Take them into the bathroom,” I will order, “And find something to do with them. When you come back, kiss me. I’d better be able to taste myself on your lips. Go now.”
I think that will get your attention. But you’d better not stray. While I am waiting, imagining what you must be doing in the bathroom, I’ll have two fingers inside of me. Flushed, I’m sure. I wonder if the waitress will be able to tell.
Then you will return and lean down to me, like a romantic lover greeting his date upon his return. A long, soft kiss on the lips. I will taste my pussy on your lips — It will feel like we had just been making love in the bathroom (I wish — maybe later?).
You’ll move to back away and break the kiss, but I’ll hold you by the back of the head, sucking your bottom lip softly to devour every last drop.
What would you like to eat?
**
From across the table I will have you hold my hands, kiss my fingers. Again you will taste my scent. I will make you tell me, in detail, what you did in the bathroom. I love to watch you squirm, shy, telling me the things you are forced to do for me.
“How did that make you feel?”
You will squirm. I love it. When you lick your lips, I will still be able to see traces of my wetness.
We will order a glass of wine.
Then, over dinner, I will tell you in detail what I plan to do to you when we get home.
You are not allowed to say a word, and you have to keep your eyes on mine the entire time, both hands on the table where I can see them.
My hands, of course, will be under the table. My heels will be off, and my toes will be pressing into the bulge in your crotch for added effect.
I’ll describe the bondage. The pain. The humiliation. About what I intend to record and what I intend to tell my friends about. I will tell you about what you will have to do with your tongue, and to which parts of my body.
I will tell you about the size of my latex cock, and where I intend to put it.
You’ll listen to this all, staring at me helplessly from across the table. Persecuted.
I’ll take back my panties from you (where did you put them?) and rub them between my legs while I watch you pick at your food. You will have to ask me permission to take each bite, and I’ll observe you each time before agreeing.
All the while, the panties feel so good against my burning pussy.
When dessert comes, I will send you away. I’ll hand you a roll of duct tape and those panties (which you will fumble to hide) and send you to the men’s room to have some quiet time alone.
“I’m eating dessert by myself tonight,” I will tell you. “To finish making my plans.”
Then nothing will turn me on more than to see you get up, place the napkin from your lap onto the table, fumbling to hide a roll of silver duct tape and balled up panties.
Off you will go, head down slightly.
I’ll be thinking about what you are going to do in there with the items I gave you.
Are you ready to email me back and tell me, so that I can make sure you are on the right track?
If you tell me in just the right tone, with just the right words, I’m sure it will turn me on even more.
You do like to make me wet, don’t you?
I will talk to you soon.
Adoringly,
Mistress Akasha
(c) Copyright 2020. All rights reserved. akasha@akashaweb.com
