I turned my head and said "That's the third time she's been past." Mistress Sheena smiled enigmatically and commanded me to continue. With both hands on one breast, I raised the nipple to my mouth and with my long, studded tongue traced around it, then sucked it into my mouth. I caught the eye of the woman below....held it and moved one hand to my naked cunt, pushing a finger deep inside.
Mistress Sheena beckoned me to retreat from the window. "Who is she? Do you recognise her?" I certainly did. She is a professor at the college I attend, a woman of about 35, bespectacled, serious and a closet case if ever I'd seen one. She lives in the women's apartment complex here on campus, a floor above me. We'd passed in the halls a number of times and I had noticed she had stopped, turned and watched me move, on more than one occasion. That heightened my exhibitionist sensibilities. The last time it happened I had just returned from a swim and had nothing on under my sarong. I had dropped it at her feet, and she had handed it back to me, appraising my tits whilst she did.
"She is entering the building" my Mistress said "Go to her. Bring her here. Here - wear this. Show her what a slut you are!" Mistress Sheena tossed me a pair of tight black glossy plastic shorts and a halter bra which had half-moon cups which left my nipples exposed. It did however push up my tits to make them appear larger than the 32B size they are. The shorts were so tight and skimpy they cut into my ass and cunt, leaving the cheeks and my full, fleshy, plump labia lips exposed.
A few minutes later I returned, my sugar cup full. "She will be a moment or two" I reported. "She is following behind." My behind, I hope, I thought.
"Very well, remove your shorts and lean over by the window. Rest your hands on the sill, and stick out your ass. Look out the window", I was told. I obeyed, and a few moments later found myself being paddled on my firm, taut, athletic butt. I yelped. I wriggled my ass some more. It was stinging, and feeling very, very good. I heard a gasp, an intake of breath behind me and knew she had arrived. I continued to stare ahead, out the window, watching the curtain twitch in the apartment opposite. Whack, I felt the paddle once more, but the style was somewhat different. I glanced over my shoulder to see that she had replaced Mistress Sheena as my tormentor. Juice started to flow down the inside of my legs.
She was wearing a beige sweater set, a pair of beautifully tailored pants in a slightly darker hue, her auburn hair was fixed in a chignon, her makeup perfect. On her feet she wore low-heeled pumps, not needing any heel to add to her 6 foot in height. She towered over me...leaning forward as I was my slight, boyish 5' 2" frame was diminutive. I am lean, like a boy (except for those fleshy love flaps), sporty, a tomboi / leaning butch. My hair is almost non-existent, thanks to my weekly #1, and I have piercings and tatts in various places.
Mistress Sheena continued to stand to one side. She and I had met on-line. She had grilled me as to my suitability, had asked me to prove my exhibitionism before she would deign to dominate me. After several rigorous inquisitions in which I had to provide her with a full sexual history, undertake personality assessments and even consent to a graphology (handwriting) analysis, she had tested my credibility by insisting that my then girlfriend and I fuck publicly, without my g/f knowing my intentions.
She had dictated my wardrobe (she wasn't at all interested in my g/f) - I was to wear a short plastic coat and nothing underneath. NOTHING! She sent us tickets to the movie 'Bound', showing in a retrospective viewing at an art house cinema near campus. She was quite explicit. During the first half hour I was to fondle myself, making myself cum - noiselessly. As soon as I had cum (I assured her I would, and she deduced from the inquisitions that I would) I was to undo the coat and mount my g/fs girlcock. I had told her my g/f always packed when we went out. I was to sit on her cock, which I would release from her zippered trouser-clad crotch, and rock and bounce to orgasm and to scream at my own release. Whilst my g/f was never to know I had been put up to this, she, Mistress Sheena, would be watching from her vantage point and assessing me.
I must have passed, because that night I had an email instructing me to stay home that night - she would arrive at 10pm, which she did, on the stroke of the hour. She cannot abide lack of punctuality. She said I would never be allowed to see her anywhere else, and she would rarely touch me herself. She would procure for me, direct me, and see that my exhibitionism was fully deployed to my satisfaction. What was in it for her, I asked? She assured me it paid off for her too, but would not be more specific.