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.
