Somewhere downtown, in a tall building decorated with floor-to-ceiling windows, there is a woman sitting at a desk. She waits for him.

Her foot taps under the desk, matching the ticking of the clock as her impatience grows. She gave him specific instructions to be here by 5:30 PM. It’s now 5:45 PM. As her impatience grows, so does the wetness between her thighs. She’s excited to hear what kind of excuses he’s going to throw at her for being so late. More so, she’s excited about what kind of punishments she can come up with for his insubordination.

Sitting at her desk, she adjusts her blouse. He loves her done up in a button-down top, though he knows what a struggle it can be to keep her 42DD breasts from popping the top buttons. Her knee-length black pencil skirt hugs her hips as she adjusts her stockings beneath. As the elevator dings, she runs her hands through her long, blonde tresses as he heads towards her door.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I’m late. I hit traffic on my way here and it was just a shitsh—”

“Stop. I don’t care about your excuses,” she interrupts. “You were told to be here at a specific time, and you failed. I don’t want to hear about how you failed. I want to hear about how you’re going to make it up to me.”

“But... I... There was –,” he stops, knowing there is no use. He takes his place on his knees in front of her and looks up. “What can I do to make it up to you, my goddess?”

She grins. Something about seeing him on his knees really got her blood flowing. She loved torturing him. Deep down, she knows he’s a good boy. Honestly, she knows that today is not his fault. But she lives for making this man beg. Clearing off a spot on her messy desk, she sits on the edge. She instructs him to strip, leaving him down to nothing in a room surrounded by windows. His cock twitches.

“Knees,” she commands. He drops enthusiastically to his rightful place at her feet. She runs her fingers through his hair. Bringing her hand to his chin, she makes him look up at her face.

“You, my love, can be a very good boy. Today was not a very good example of that. I want you to show me what a really good boy you can be. I want you to take everything I give to you. When you’ve almost had enough, I want you to say ‘thank you, more please’. Your limits are being kept in mind, I will not cross them. But I need you to prepare to be used. Mercilessly. Can you agree to this?”

After an enthusiastic shake of his head, her fingers are back in his hair, pulling his face between her legs. He dives in, ready to taste her sweet juices, only to find her panties blocking his way. She giggles as he reaches for them.

“Not so fast, little one. With your teeth,” she instructs. He places his hands behind his back and she lifts the hem of her skirt. He brings his face between her legs again, his beard stubble tickling her inner thighs. He knows his task is to remove her panties, but she didn’t say there was a time limit, he thinks. His tongue pushes flat against the fabric of the panties. Moving his face from side to side, he is able to spread her lips and push the fabric directly against her clit.

Still lost in his hair, her fingers grip tightly, bringing his face closer to her womanhood. She moans loudly as her hips rock with his motions. Sensing that she is close to orgasm, he finds a patch of panty fabric, damp with her juices and he bites. Grabbing the lace, he tugs them towards him. She groans at the ruined orgasm and notices that he seems pretty pleased with himself. “Cute,” she smirks. “But now you have a new task added to your list. Put them on,” she says, holding up the lacy thong. “I want to see what you look like modeling my wet panties.”

He blushes as he slides them on. The sticky dampness of the lace cradles his stiffening cock. He turns to show her how he looks from all angles. From behind, she pushes him against the tall window, exposing him for any passerby below to see, if only they looked up. His cock, now throbbing, is leaving its own wet spot on the fabric and the glass window. She runs her nails down his backside, grazing over the back of his thighs and cupping his ass. Her hand snakes around and fondles his balls, cupping them and squeezing ever-so-gently. “Stay,” she whispers.

She grabs his clothes, folding them into a neat stack. She pulls the keys from his pants pocket and places them on her desk.

“Toy, here’s your next task: meet me at home. Simple enough, right? Oh, wait. I’ll be taking your clothes with me. Thankfully, since you got here so late tonight, we should be the only people in the building. You might run into some of the janitorial staff.” His body stiffens with fear. “God, could you imagine? How embarrassing,” she giggles. “Anyway, your keys are on my desk. Please drive safe!”

“Oh, and lovey?” she calls over her shoulder as she strides out of the room, “Don’t even think about touching yourself.”