I am writing this for my Domme.
I rounded the corner and continued along the hall, keeping an eye on the room numbers. 534, 535, 536... It should be right up here. The soft clack of my red brown oxfords on the white tiles quickened with my eager pace. A wide smile spread across my face when I finally saw room 544 and the new gold plate shining below the number on the door. It still sparked a warm sense of accomplishment to see the word "Doctor" before my name. The permanence of the etched metal made it feel even more official. I could not resist the urge to trace the letters with my finger. I shifted the obnoxiously tall stack of administrative paperwork to my left hand and fumbled for the key in my pocket. The lock made a heavy, satisfying click as I turned the key and I took a deep breath before pushing open the door to my new office.
There were empty wooden bookshelves lining the wall to the left and empty white walls everywhere else. The wooden desk toward to back of the room looked like it was probably older than me, with scratches and dents that spoke of those who had used it before me. I dropped the stack of papers and my leather bag on its surface and proceeded toward the window along the back wall. It looked out over a grassy courtyard and beyond toward more brick buildings full of offices just like this. Except this one was mine.
It could have been two minutes or twenty minutes that I looked out the window, lost in thinking about which books to fill the shelves with, the stack of paperwork on the desk that I needed to complete, the excitement of plans and ideas and potential. The sound of the door shutting gently behind me brought me out of it. I turned, expecting to see that it had been pushed shut by an air current, but instead saw her. Her dark curls fell neatly around her shoulders and a smile I knew all too well spread across her red lips. I was wet before she said a word.
I came around the desk toward her but she shook her head at me and pointed at the floor. "Kneel," she commanded. I feel to my knees fast, without question. My eyes cast down toward the gray carpet and my hands fell into place behind my back.
"That's better. Good girl," she said. Sparks rose in my stomach when I felt the brief touch of her hand as she pushed a stray red lock out of my face. She reached down with the same hand and undid the top four buttons of my shirt so that the black bra underneath was visible against my pale breasts. She continued past me and I heard her slide onto the top of the desk.
"Touch yourself," she called from behind me. I hesitated a moment, wondering if the door was locked. "Is there a problem?" she asked, clearly annoyed by my hesitation.
"No, Miss," I responded as my right hand unbuckled my belt, then unbuttoned my pants, and finally lowered the zipper. With my hand in the front of my panties, I realized I was even more wet than I thought. I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip in a failed attempt to keep my breathing as quiet as possible. I was surprised by how quickly I could feel myself approaching an orgasm, but I knew I needed permission.
"Miss, may I come?" I asked.
"No," she responded. I heard her slide of the desk and a moment later felt the front of her legs pressed against my back. "Count to ten and ask again."
As I counted aloud, she ran her hand down my chest and into the cup of my bra. Her fingers caressed my nipple and "six" came out with a wince as she pinched. When I finally reached ten, I asked again, growing more desperate as my frustration was building under her teasing touch.
"No. Stop touching yourself."
I obediently pulled my hand away, wishing I did not have to but knowing I could not protest. She did not pull her hand away, instead moving it to my other nipple. When I involuntarily flinched at the touch, her other hand pulled my chin up to meet her eyes.
"Stop squirming." It took every ounce of energy I had to be still but I wanted to please her. When I felt like I could not take another second, she offered, "Touch yourself and ask me again."
"Miss, may I please come?" I begged.
"Count to ten once more, then you may come. Do not make a sound and keep your eyes on me," she said.
As soon as "ten" left my mouth, I came fast and hard. Her hand was still under my chin and her eyes were locked on mine. My legs shook violently with pleasure and exhaustion from kneeling.
When I finished, she let me go and took a few steps back so I could no longer feel her pressed against me. After another moment, she passed my shoulder and lifted my chin once more so that my eyes met hers.
"The office might be yours, but do not forget that you are mine," she reminded me in a cool, even tone. Her eyes sparked deadly serious, daring me to question her, and knowing that I would not. "I am done with you for now," she said, releasing me.
I quickly fixed my clothing and tried to stand but found my legs were too unsteady still. Instead, I sat back on the floor with my back against the desk to catch my breath. I watched as she made her way toward the door. As she opened it she looked back with one more reminder for me.
"Don't forget it's your turn to make dinner tonight," she said with a mischievous smile, then left, shutting the door behind her.