The summons arrived just after breakfast and before his second coffee. Not having expected a call, Simon had dressed for the day in a tight t-shirt that showed off his pecs without being naked, and a simple pair of dress shorts that also hugged his butt. It was, after all, part of his job to be pleasing to the eye.
However, had he known he was to be called to her office at this time of day, he would have worn a more business orientated outfit. She, of course, looked stunning in a grey business skirt and jacket with a white ruffle blouse underneath. He felt decidedly underdressed.
"Lock the door behind you," she said. "Then take those clothes off, I want to see more of you."
Simon was overdressed, not under. As commanded though, he locked the door and then stood before her. Starting with his belt, he stripped in a slow and provocative manner. What her game plan was, he had no idea, but he was very pleased to be getting naked.
And, as she had anticipated, the more he took off the harder he became. When he got down to just his underwear, she could almost see the veins of his cock as it strained against the confining fabric.
"Free that thing," she instructed from her perch on the edge of the office desk as she shucked off her own jacket. "But do not touch it."
Attentive to her every word, Simon stooped and removed the final cloth impediment that had been holding back his aching cock. When he straightened, it stood tall and proud. Mistress Fox cast the already glistening tip a quick glance and raised an eyebrow in warning. Simon blushed and dropped his gaze to the floor.
"Come here, Simone, I have a task for you," she said in an imperious voice that sent a delicious shiver down his spine. No further instructions were given, but a few flicks of her wrist and fingers indicated how he was to proceed. Simon cocked his head to one side and then knelt before his mistress.
Keeping his eyes downcast and with slow deliberate care, Simon reached under her skirt and slid a white lacy thong down over her thighs. Pausing at her knees, he leant forward and gave them a good sniff before taking them all the way off and dropping them on the floor.
"You may wear those when you leave, if you are a good girl," Mistress Fox said as he fawned at her feet and commenced rubbing the left sole with his thumbs.
Past experience had taught him to keep his eyes below knee level and to never ever look up past the thighs unless directed to. This had always been a challenge for Simon as his mistress had long sexy legs that made him think dirty, wicked thoughts.
But here, today, when kneeling between those very legs in an area redolent with her scent, he found it impossible. So, when changing from the left to the right foot, he shot a quick glance up and under her skirt.
"Like what you see, girl?" his Mistress asked, catching him all wet-eyed and guilty. Before Simon could muster up a suitable reply though, she reached out, snared his hair in a strong grip and dragged his face under her skirt. Up close and personal, Simon inhaled his Mistress and fought a savage internal battle to hold back an uncommanded orgasm.
The previous month, on the day they had first met, he had had a spontaneous orgasm and he did not want to repeat that offence - ever again. The lead up to that monumental event had happened after he had met with two gorgeous twins, Megan and Tegan at a local S&M club.
They had taken a shine to Simon and after a few weeks had invited him to their home, on a trial basis, to live as a house-boy. After a week of debauchery, during which he had entertained quite a few different women but not his future Mistress, he had been granted an interview with the mysterious lady of the house.
She is the female equivalent of Hugh Hefner they had informed him, she loves sex, as long as she is telling you how to do it. Soft sex, teasing sex but especially vulgar sex. The lady of the house swears like a sailor behind closed doors, they had giggled.
"But you don't want to upset her either, that always results in discomfort and tears," Megan had said in a more serious tone while giving her bottom a reflex rub. "Don't worry though, I know she will like you. You're a perfect fit for the house."
Of course, the girls had fussed and groomed him prior to the introduction. They had stripped him of all clothing, except for his socks and a matching pink bow-tie, brushed his hair, combed his pubes and oiled his chest.
He had been primped until he was gleaming with not a fold of skin left untouched. It had all been very exciting and he barely heard the very specific instructions they had given on deportment and where not to look.
All of that, however, had fled his mind the moment he saw her. It was devotion at first sight, mixed in with a whole lot of long legs and a C cup of lust. His jaw had dropped open and he had stumbled, gobsmacked, to a halt midway into the room as his eyes drank her in. She was a Goddess and he would do anything for her.
A sharp prod, in the back of his ribs, from one of his friends had prompted Simon forward a few steps more and to then adopt the appropriate stance. Head bowed - eyes reluctantly downcast, chest out with arms folded behind his back and legs apart in the military 'at-ease' position.
Roxanne Foxworth was a rich and beautiful lady with a penchant for submissive men - and women. Simon had been told little about her except that she demanded complete loyalty and rewarded such with sinful pleasures. Disappointments, on the other hand, were met with various physical and or demeaning punishments that she thought suitable for the infraction.
So, it was with some trepidation that Simon had stood before Roxanne. While hope gleamed in his eyes, dread had played havoc with his stomach. His semi-flaccid shaft, however, had risen to salute her in an instant.
The resulting three-way pink salute of bow-tie, cock and socks, had delighted Roxanne, and a broad smile lit her face. The girls had done well and the obvious adoration the prospective house-boy had left a good impression on her.
Throwing both Megan and Tegan a wink and a nod in appreciation, she had approached their new offering. The last had proven himself to be a sad disappointment, and the blonde twins had spent a week in painful and humiliating servitude because of it.
For all their sakes, she hoped this one had better manners and would not become a midnight bedroom stalker. Breaking that man's arm had been an unintended consequence of surprise at his late-night privacy invasion and her fifteen years of Judo training.