My Master and I were having a casual conversation over SMS, me sitting in my office, him several time zones away having dinner in another country. In between describing to me latest course in his multi-course dinner, he started giving me instructions to touch myself. My last instruction was to type up what had happened and send it to him in email.
I was amused and pleased when, in the middle of a casual discussion about dinner, you started giving me instructions to touch myself. I liked that interplay very much, the connection between who we have been to each other before and who we are now.
I petted my pussy through my pants for you. With your next instruction I undid my pants and reached in, with a finger from my right hand in my cunt and a finger from my left hand on my clit. By the time I got your instruction to make myself good and wet, I already was. Wet enough that I could hear that slutty slurpy sound of my cunt juice covered finger moving on my clit.
Although you told me to put the anal plug in the bathroom, I did it here in my office, not wanting to go away from you for so long. But then I had lube on my fingers and decided I had better wash my hands, so I went and did that. I’m getting more and more used to having the plug in my ass. It slipped in very easily, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel it – quite the contrary, I was very aware of it there. I squirmed in my chair as I touched myself again, thinking about your desire to hurt me, and my desire to take that from you, to be taken by you, completely.
I stood up and rubbed myself against the corner of my desk, remembering that first time you made me do that, and how desperate I was then to have something touching my clit, how hard I tried to make myself cum that way. I was not so desperate this time, since you had been letting me touch myself.
The parallels with that first time continued when I took the yellow highlighter and inserted it into my cunt, while my fingers rubbed circles around my slippery clit. The sensation of being fucked with the plug in my ass was delightful as I sat in my chair, but I knew that if I were going to come, I should do it on my knees, on the floor, like sluts deserve. So I dropped down to my knees and soon your order came, telling me to come for you. My fingers moved faster and faster, and highlighter slipped in and out of my dripping cunt. My breath came harder and faster. I let out a few very small moans, but mostly stifled them so no one would hear me and wonder what I was doing in here. And then I came, my body shuddering, my cunt and ass clenching and unclenching around their respective invaders. I leaned into my desk to catch my breath while I texted my thank yous to you. I licked my fingers and the highlighter clean, savoring my tangy juices.
$37 dollars in international SMS charges, but Master assured me I was worth every penny. And then some.