He doesn't believe me. :)
I can understand why he'd think otherwise, but it's true. I've been.. saving up, if you will. Looking forward to chatting with him and having my first release in *ages* be to him calling me his dirty, nasty fucking slut. But there's no way I'd have been able to avoid touching myself at all.. not when he sends such lovely emails to me. I've slid my hand between my legs in the shower, letting the hot water hit my clit, trying to ease the persistant throb. At night, climbing naked into a bed warmed by an electric blanket, imagining the weight of the bedclothes as his weight, pressing me down into the mattress. Working on my tasks.. I won't even tell you, faithful reader, what I did to myself while taking my new profile photo. But I promise.. no release.
Our chat didn't happen as scheduled (there are no words to describe exactly how.. vexed.. I was at this), delaying my plan further. However, I received the most wonderful surprise today.
The Master called me.
Rather unexpectedly, actually. I was in the middle of dealing with yet another Situation at work when my cell rang.. I didn't look at the number, just answered. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that it took me a second to pull my brain out of work-related-problem-solving-mode and recognize the voice, but it took less time than that to usher the bearer of the work-related-problem the hell out of my office and lock the door.
(hmm.. you know, there's no guarantee that he actually paid attention when I answered the phone, but I wonder if he'll use my 'given' name now that he knows what it is..)
My office has four very large windows that look out on the main foot-and-car traffic areas; it's located on the ground floor in a fairly-frequented building, and I am not the only one with access to it. Not a one of these things kept me from shoving my hand down my pants the moment I was settled back in my chair.
First things first, of course.. I needed some reprimanding, not only for my insolence the other day, but also for getting a bit ahead of him in my tasks. Even as he scolded me I was sliding my fingers into my soaking wet pussy, thumb on my clit, whimpering between my sincere apologies.
You're lucky to have such a patient Master..
Yes, sir. Very lucky to have such a patient.. sexy.. fuckable Master, sir.
Fingers moving a little faster.. one boot braced on the desk, chair tilted at a rather dangerous angle.. eyes glancing toward the windows, wondering if someone would pass by..
He wants me to taste myself, and I do- eagerly, sucking the fingers clean before pushing them back between my legs. He promises such delicious, dark things.. tying me up and fucking his other toy in front of me..
I'll give her everything you want..
Shirt collar gripped between my teeth now, so close but would never dream of finishing without his permission. I can smell my arousal beginning to permeate the office.. if someone walked in right now, even if I could right myself before they got the door unlocked, the flush of my skin and the lingering smell would give me away. I still don't care. Two fingers are curled deep in my cunt, keeping me on the edge but a little less likely to go over..
He uses that word. Not often, but I come from a region and a generation that has been trained to react very negatively to it, and even in my haze it hits my ears strangely. But what is trained can be untrained, and.. well. It *does* sound different from him. I will learn to appreciate it, because it pleases him to use it, and to that end I will start using it as well; here first, then perhaps out loud.
He orders..
Come for me. Now. I'm not going to wait for you.
And I obey.
The chair is braced between the desk and the table behind it, my legs spread, hand buried in my jeans, fingers fucking my cunt, in full view of anyone who cared to pass by at that moment.. I came hard, and it was blissful.
His voice brought me back to my senses.. eventually.
How can you be so loud in your office?
Was I loud? Hm. If you say so. :)
We talk for some time.. two more calls after this one. It's getting close to shift change, more chance of being caught.. but I don't hesitate when he tells me to bend over my desk. I push my clothes out of my way and spank myself as he orders, my eyes not on the windows, but rather longingly on the whip that sits next to my desk, wishing I would be given permission to use that as well.
It takes me nearly an hour to stop shaking after he hangs up, and I recognize it immediately as a residual subspace reaction. How long since I've experienced that? Eventually I trust my legs enough to support my weight, and I take a walk to the administration building to clear my head. The dull, steady throb has abated a little, but I still feel a bit disconnected.
I have a coworker that I harbor... less-than-coworkerly feelings for. He is on his way into the building as I'm walking out; clad in jeans, a black dress shirt, and a vest, he jogs easily up the stairs to the door, smiling as he passes me.
I have just enough time to grip the stair rail before I come, biting my cheek to cover the whimper, hoping to god that the other coworker who's talking to me doesn't notice.
I wonder what the Master will think of his fucking slut now..
(that fantastic photo at the top of the entry? Go here for full credits)
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