A friendly reminder.
I love this moment. When I come back to the room with coffee and you’re several minutes into your masturbation routine.
I sit back in the comfy chair and sip, watching your fingers massage, linger, and finally disappear inside your panties. The little moans escaping your lips as the morning sun starts to stream into the room. The crescendo as you rub harder and get wetter.
I put down my coffee and my pants fall to the floor. I peel back your panties and marvel.
Coffee can wait.
To the supply closet.
Hair in pigtails. Kneel. I’m going to use those sweet innocent little handlebars to pound the fuck out of your face.No restraints. I want every reaction you can give me. The first defensive move you make will yield the back of my hand across your face. The second will yield a boot to the chest, knocking you over. I will then pick you up by the hair and continue with your pounding.I will cum in your mouth, and you will swallow.You will return to your office without cleaning your face, allowing your tears and spittle to be fully visible to the world.You will spend the next fifteen minutes glued to your chair, using a magic wand on your swollen clit. You will be sure not to turn away from the webcam that is filming this. Later, I will email you all of the comments on the video once I post it, detailing the depraved acts internet perverts wish to perform on you.When the fifteen minutes is over, you will come to a full stop and go to the bathroom to clean yourself. And you will await my next set of instructions.
Reblog because sometimes I’ve already expressed my mood as well as I’m going to, even months apart. :)
No, I would. I promise. Probably some stuff you haven’t even thought of yet.
In case it isn’t clear, my ability to be:
Is nearly non-existent today…
It’s going to hurt. You’re going to take it like a good girl and enjoy it.
That’s the sum total.
She knew that the definition of “appropriate party dress” was different for her. And she took full advantage.
I always enjoy knowing how much pleasure you get when I push you. Feeling those little drips of wetness, the shudder across your lower half when I brush your clit. The little whimper from the back of your throat when you can’t take any more. The squeal that comes in the instant after the flat of my hand lands hard against your vulva to remind you of the need to practice your jaw exercises.
There’s a good girl. I appreciate that you know my moods so well. That even though you know you’ve done nothing wrong, you will be punished sometimes. Because I need it. And that you wriggle and squirm and fight despite your acquiescence Because I need it.
Such a good girl.
Isn’t it a shame that phone charger cords are always so short?
Yes, a shame…
Come here, sweet girl. Yes, I know you’ve been waiting for me. Your patience is noted. I trust the carpet was comfortable on your knees? Good.
Follow me. Yes, we’re going to have some fun. You look so pretty I cannot resist the urge to try and break you. To tenderize that luminescent skin and soak that lovely hair with cum and spit and sweat. To, naturally, leave your clothes as tattered rags. To give you orgasms that make you forget your name.
And then tomorrow? We’ll have to see if you can walk first.
Now come. That’s it. Crawl like a pretty girl.