I – The Dream”Lie still Blair, and I won’t hurt you.”She stands over you – she in her smart charcoal jacket and slacks, you nearly naked, stretched out on your bed in black bra and panties, wrists burning from the handcuffs fastened through the heavy headboard.You can see in her green eyes that she’s serious. A short riding crop in her right hand guarantees it. She’s partially undone her white blouse, just enough to tease you with glimpses of her small, round breasts tipped with pink nipples that reach out to you like tiny fingers, rigid with the hope that you will misbehave, and she’ll get to use the crop on your smooth legs and belly.So you stop struggling, pulling your bare thighs together and to the side to avoid the crop, should it fall.  But you’re still breathing hard, eyes full of defiance, glaring at her for tricking you, for breaking her promise to eat you.She creeps onto the bed beside you, her face now so close to yours, her short red hair hanging just low enough to brush the skin of your cheek. You glance down her open blouse, wishing more than anything you could suck one of her nipples between your lips and push against the hard bead of flesh with the tip of your tongue.”You must have wanted me very badly, Blair.”You think back, remembering how long you’ve lusted after her, the weeks, then months that passed before you could muster the nerve to even make a friendly advance. Then this. Working together later than usual one night at the office, lights low, desks all vacant, the windows of an adjacent office building sparkling like stars in the night sky – she looked at you for a long time, reached out to stroke your hair, then leaned close, her lips moving against your ear.”You can have me if you want,” she whispered. “You don’t even have to ask.”You remember the flutter that touched your stomach, and how your legs opened under your desk when she kissed you. And that’s all it took. You were hers.Silly you. Ready to play any game she suggested, if only you could have her naked body against yours. So willing that you placed both wrists in the cuffs yourself, letting her snap them shut with a knowing smile. You were in heaven while she stripped you, raising your hips so she could tug at your skirt and stockings, not even caring when she cut your new silk blouse from your body.”Talk to me, Blair. Tell me what you want.”You’re surprised by her demand, not sure what to say. She taps your belly with the crop, just hard enough to get your attention. It stings, but causes a flood between your legs at the same time.”P-please,” you stammer.”Please what, Blair? Please beat me? Please eat me? Please fuck me? I didn’t know you were such a girly girl. Afraid to ask for what you want? I expected you to beg. What a disappointment.”The Kolej Escort crop comes down harder, across your ass, a forceful, lashing blow, and you cry out, twisting away from her.”Ahh, she speaks! Perhaps another blow will make her sing.””Nooo!” you reply at once, fearing a more painful strike. “I’ll tell you – I’ll tell you – please, please, eat me, fuck me, please…” Your eyes tear as you beg her for the sex you’ve wanted for so long. But not like this. Not like this.”Spread your legs, Blair. Open them.”You do. You spread them wide, knees slightly drawn up, panty-covered mound already showing a dark stain from your juices. You pray she doesn’t use the crop there.She touches the plump mound with the tip of the crop, drawing it down, tracing the length of your slit as it yawns wider, now soaking the thin wisp of black cotton. The crop returns again and again, now with a firmer hand, teasing your clitoris until your hips rise to meet it with each touch.”I knew you’d be easy. Such a slut. And to think, little miss perfect, the icon of professionalism, a true example of today’s career woman, here in handcuffs, begging me to do all these nasty things to her. Admit it, Blair. You’re a slut at heart. You’ve always been a slut.”She raises the crop again, this time only a few feet above your cunt. It hovers in the air there, waiting, waiting, for your answer, the right answer.”Yes!” you scream. “I am! A slut! Your slut! Please – no more – I’m begging you!”She smiles with satisfaction and places the crop on the bed. Then, she’s pulling your panties off your hips, down your spread legs, and over your toes. Next, with a quick snip of the scissors, your bra is gone, freeing your large, meaty tits. She licks her lips as they spill from the black lace, flattening only slightly, proud and firm with angry red nipples.You watch, trembling, as she lowers her face between your legs, then moan with relief when her tongue dips into your cunt. But her eyes are on you again. She stops. Your eyes meet hers, pleading to continue. You’re too breathless to speak.”Shall I finish you?””P-please,” you whimper. “Oh God, please.””You’ll be my slut?””Yessss!””No more panties at the office?””Yessss!” you agree, too excited to think about her demands.”And no bra as well?””Yessss!””And you won’t mind if I tell everyone we’re lovers?””I – I don’t care, don’t care at all, please…””My sweet Blair, you were born a slut, weren’t you? Now, beg me to eat you.”You beg her over and over. You admit anything and everything. Yes, you were born a slut, and you’ll die a slut.Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…And when her tongue rolls perfectly over your clit, too many times for you to count, long after you stop begging, you cum long and hard, screaming Rus Escort her name into the night as your body thrashes and pulls at the cuffs above your head.And you know you are lost. Forever.                                               ~*~You’re back at work the next day, sure she didn’t mean what she said. You wear both panties and bra, never thinking about the consequences. Then she’s behind you, running her hand over your ass, checking.”You’re a bad girl, Blair. You know what I do to bad girls.”You can’t move. What if others should see her pawing you? Too afraid to turn to face her, you reply softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”Her fingers trail between your legs from behind, making you squirm. She pushes up against the wet spot already spreading over your tiny, white cotton panties. You’re afraid she’ll go further, and afraid she’ll stop. So delicious, to be played with in public. You know you’ll do anything she asks.”Take them off, Blair.”She couldn’t possibly expect you to…”No Blair, not here. Go to the ladies room. Take your purse. Your bra and panties better be in it when you get back.”You don’t move away until she stops fingering you. Then, without question or hesitation, you do as she says. You feel so cheap as you strip the panties and bra from beneath your slacks and blouse. You do it quickly, before someone comes in, before someone discovers what you’ve become. Your small purse bulges after you stuff everything in. A small piece of white bra strap escapes when you close the catch, hanging off the side, unnoticed by you in your haste to finish before you’re found. Your nipples scrape the fabric of your blouse as you hurry to leave. Glancing in the mirror, you see your tits bouncing as you walk, hard points of your nipples straining against the sheer white material that clearly shows two dark circles of your areola. The image shocks you, and makes you wet at the same time. What will they think?You hurry back to your office. She’s there, of course. She tells you how proud she is of you, how luscious you look to her, and how she’d like to eat you, right then and there. But of course she doesn’t. She couldn’t in front of all these people. Could she? You wonder if you’d let her if she demanded it.She pushes you into a corner where no one can see, works her hand down the front of your slacks, and slides her middle finger into your sopping pussy. You want her to keep it there, to take you in her arms and masturbate you until you cum in your own office. Instead, she pulls her hand free and offers the same finger to you, placing it lightly on your lips. You open and suck. It’s the first time you’ve tasted yourself. But you’d do it again and again for her.She leaves you, wet and wanting. She doesn’t Yenimahalle Escort even speak to you, and disappears without a word at the end of the day. You wonder if you’ve displeased her in some way, but have no way of knowing. No sleep for you this night. You toss and turn, anxious, troubled, and in heat for her.She’s pleased the next day. Your slacks are light tan, and show clearly that you’re naked underneath them. You choose a silk top to keep your nipples from aching, but hadn’t counted on how the soft material would collapse over your swaying breasts, showing them off in exquisite detail.You’ve earned a pet name.”You look wonderful today, my little Pussy.”Pussy. You’re insulted at first, but before long convince yourself it fits. Like a glove.At lunch, she closes your office door and fingers you again. You’re melting in her hands when she stops.”You do it, Pussy. I want to watch. Do it till you cum.”You do your best to work your hand inside the narrow belt and waistband, but soon give up and open the slacks, letting them slide to your knees. Your fingers are soaked, plunging in and out of your cunt.”Taste yourself, Pussy.”You bring your fingers to your mouth and lick them, one by one. She watches, running her hand lightly over her meager breasts, breathing deeply as she takes in the sight of you, the sight of a bright, attractive woman slowly losing control of her life.She takes a few steps toward you, now close enough to smell the musk of your sex. The green of her eyes holds you with an unseen force, powerful and paralyzing.”Cum for me, Pussy. Show me how wet I’ve made you. Show me everything.”You tug your panties over your hips and slide them to mid-thigh. The soft, dark hair that covers your cunt is wet and matted. You plunge your fingers into it again, desperate for your orgasm now that she’s given you permission. It doesn’t take long. A minute, maybe less. She sees your hips begin to thrust suddenly faster against your hand, knows you’ve come to the edge, and covers your mouth with hers, muffling the long, guttural moan that escapes from deep within your body. Leaning into her, you finish yourself, savoring each precious second, holding it, making it last until you’re limp in her arms, panting like a bitch in heat.She’s happy with you for a week, but then feels the need to dress you in clothes of her choosing. She brings a large shopping bag to work one day, full of your new clothes. And you wear them starting the next day – clothes you would never have worn before – but for her, anything. Tight, fitted blouses and sweaters with deeply cut V necks, showing off your round, succulent breasts. Tiny, pleated skirts that barely fall to your upper thighs, flaring to show your round ass every time you turn too quickly. They can’t keep their eyes off you in meetings. Even trying your best to keep your legs tightly pressed together, sooner or later you shift just enough to show a glimpse of the long, pink gash between your legs, now shaved bare at her request. Men stare at you. Women snicker behind your back when they think you aren’t listening. A week passes, then two.