attracted to the power I held over him,
especially since he was supposed to have held power over others; a
power he abused in the legal system.
In my domain he held no power, only I did. I
chose if he could touch me and where. I chose if I let him eat me
and for how long and maybe, just maybe if he was lucky enough, I
would choose to fuck his disgusting cock. They were all my choices,
in my hands, I held the power.
His cock would be forgotten for today, as it
was every other day—unless I was kicking him in it that is—but my
pussy ached to be touched and with the long weekend over, a weekend
my children were home and not with their dad, Monday and my first
client hadn’t come soon enough.
Grabbing the poor excuse for hair at the top
of his head I wrenched his neck back and stepped up to him,
bringing my hot aching sex close. Walter might have been in his
disheveled suit, his red paisley tie already undone and hanging
loose when he arrived at Grautönen complaining to Ricki about a
case that had him working all night on a Sunday, but I was
in red latex. The plastic like dress clung to my body and shined
like a candied apple but left my tits and sex exposed. The red lace
panties I had worn were long gone, having been used to gag Walter
with earlier, but my garters and fishnet stockings were still in
place, as well as my knee high platform boots that matched the
dress and had me standing five inches taller than my usual stature
of five foot-four. All my work shoes were high platforms so my
pussy would be right at most of my clients’ faces when they were on
their knees in a prone position. Walter was no exception.
“Beg for it again dog and I might let you
have a taste.” My voice was malicious, uncaring—I never let my own
desire show unless it was part of the game—and sounded different
than my normal one so my clients couldn’t recognize me by it when I
shopping or at the park.
“Please let me have a taste Mistress. Eating
your pussy is all I dream about.” He licked his lips as if the
nearness of my cunt and the smell of the juices flowing from it
must be unbearable to him.
Last time he visited I didn’t let him have
it. Instead, I rode his fingers and came all over his pants because
he asked for my cunt out of turn. The reminder of who was in
control must have been enough because that was only the Friday
before.
The sound of the crop as it hit the floor
made Walter jump but I could see a hint of a smile as his face
flushed a red, almost matching the marks I had made on his cheeks,
hinting that he knew what was to come. Pushing his head back
against the curved leather “seat”—one of many custom made sex
furniture pieces I had in my collection—Walter was able to stay on
his knees but have lower lumbar support against the free standing
back as he rested his head against it.
He was ready as I straddled his face
preparing to make him eat my pussy with perfect precision. He
wasn’t perfect at first, it took many training sessions and sending
him home with pornos of lesbians, but he was darn perfect after
almost a year and I knew if he was ever to find a real woman and
get married she would be more than pleased with what he learned in
my chamber.
“You may begin Walter.” I only ever said his
name when I allowed him to touch me in some way.
“Thank you Mistress,” was all he said before
greedily accepting my twat.
Walter kept his hands at his sides like the
good slave he was trained to be as I braced myself with one hand on
the bar above us and used the other to spread my lips wide.
Pressing the tingling flesh—just thinking of forcing him to eat my
pussy had my cunt throbbing—to Walter’s lips, he began lapping at
the soft folds like a hungry animal whose only food was the nectar
which flowed from my fragrant valley. My hand grasped tight to the
bar as I steadied my breath, enjoying how his tongue would glide
along my smooth lips and probe my opening, thick like a cock and
better suited to
especially since he was supposed to have held power over others; a
power he abused in the legal system.
In my domain he held no power, only I did. I
chose if he could touch me and where. I chose if I let him eat me
and for how long and maybe, just maybe if he was lucky enough, I
would choose to fuck his disgusting cock. They were all my choices,
in my hands, I held the power.
His cock would be forgotten for today, as it
was every other day—unless I was kicking him in it that is—but my
pussy ached to be touched and with the long weekend over, a weekend
my children were home and not with their dad, Monday and my first
client hadn’t come soon enough.
Grabbing the poor excuse for hair at the top
of his head I wrenched his neck back and stepped up to him,
bringing my hot aching sex close. Walter might have been in his
disheveled suit, his red paisley tie already undone and hanging
loose when he arrived at Grautönen complaining to Ricki about a
case that had him working all night on a Sunday, but I was
in red latex. The plastic like dress clung to my body and shined
like a candied apple but left my tits and sex exposed. The red lace
panties I had worn were long gone, having been used to gag Walter
with earlier, but my garters and fishnet stockings were still in
place, as well as my knee high platform boots that matched the
dress and had me standing five inches taller than my usual stature
of five foot-four. All my work shoes were high platforms so my
pussy would be right at most of my clients’ faces when they were on
their knees in a prone position. Walter was no exception.
“Beg for it again dog and I might let you
have a taste.” My voice was malicious, uncaring—I never let my own
desire show unless it was part of the game—and sounded different
than my normal one so my clients couldn’t recognize me by it when I
shopping or at the park.
“Please let me have a taste Mistress. Eating
your pussy is all I dream about.” He licked his lips as if the
nearness of my cunt and the smell of the juices flowing from it
must be unbearable to him.
Last time he visited I didn’t let him have
it. Instead, I rode his fingers and came all over his pants because
he asked for my cunt out of turn. The reminder of who was in
control must have been enough because that was only the Friday
before.
The sound of the crop as it hit the floor
made Walter jump but I could see a hint of a smile as his face
flushed a red, almost matching the marks I had made on his cheeks,
hinting that he knew what was to come. Pushing his head back
against the curved leather “seat”—one of many custom made sex
furniture pieces I had in my collection—Walter was able to stay on
his knees but have lower lumbar support against the free standing
back as he rested his head against it.
He was ready as I straddled his face
preparing to make him eat my pussy with perfect precision. He
wasn’t perfect at first, it took many training sessions and sending
him home with pornos of lesbians, but he was darn perfect after
almost a year and I knew if he was ever to find a real woman and
get married she would be more than pleased with what he learned in
my chamber.
“You may begin Walter.” I only ever said his
name when I allowed him to touch me in some way.
“Thank you Mistress,” was all he said before
greedily accepting my twat.
Walter kept his hands at his sides like the
good slave he was trained to be as I braced myself with one hand on
the bar above us and used the other to spread my lips wide.
Pressing the tingling flesh—just thinking of forcing him to eat my
pussy had my cunt throbbing—to Walter’s lips, he began lapping at
the soft folds like a hungry animal whose only food was the nectar
which flowed from my fragrant valley. My hand grasped tight to the
bar as I steadied my breath, enjoying how his tongue would glide
along my smooth lips and probe my opening, thick like a cock and
better suited to
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