1. What a Slut Needs, Ch. 4


    Date: 11/7/2017, Categories: BDSM, Author: jack795, Rating: 0, Source: LushStories

    He sits on the very edge of a chair, clad only in a leather vest and combat boots. His pendulous man parts hang heavily beneath his thighs. "Tap-tap" goes his crop to the toe of his boot. " Lick this," he commands and she pays her respects with her tongue. " That's my Marcy-girl...be a good slut..." Margot instantly bolts upright in her bed. "No-o-o-o!" she calls in the darkness, "Not Marcy! That's my tongue, not hers." Before realizing it's just another bad dream. It's been more than a week since her promotion. Each night she pines for him. Each day she spies on him in his office as he pores over papers, talks on the phone, meets with staff members. Not once does he call her in, or even look her way. The real killer though was yesterday when he invited Marcy in. That was intolerable. Vowing to make him notice her today, she decides to add some extra-salacious touches to her 'uniform of the day'. Looking in the mirror, she gives herself a slow slutty wink, brushes out her hair, does her eyes in blue mascara, her lips in gothic black. Decides to ditch her confining knickers for a thong, which sets her butt-cheeks free. Then dons a clingy black skirt to hug their every flexing contour. The route from the elevator to her desk is thick with roving eyes. She struts and jiggles as they fix on her bobbling overhang and all its moving parts. No one doubts what she is. Despite the attention though, once she takes her seat, the ever present butt-plug reminds her that it is he who owns ...
    her, and it is she who must endure whatever trials he devises to test her devotion. Whether it be pain or denial...or indifference...she must always serve Him, her man, her Master. The note on her desk is clear. " See me ," it says in his assertive scrawl. Muffling a gasp, she quickly rises and bounces herself to his doorway. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Carrasco?" She always calls him 'Mr. Carrasco' whenever she's within earshot of anyone else. Never 'Guy'. Slaves and PAs are not entitled to such informalities. "Come in," he says in his stern baritone, "and shut the door." "Ooh, fuck," goes her inner whore. "You're going to get it today." Rising from behind his desk, he points to the floor, "Down on your knees." She kneels as if she's going to pray. "All the way to your elbows," he barks, and she readily obeys. Her nose almost touching his shoe. "I saw that display just now. Wiggling your rump for those wankers. You are distraction enough without the tease. Now they'll be spending even more time in the men's room taking care of business." "But Master, I did it for you." Shaking his head 'no', he instructs, "You are to do what you are told to do. Nothing more, nothing less. You are not to alter the 'uniform of the day' unless you are told to. You are not to flaunt your derriere unless you are told to. It's all really quite simple." Her nostrils flare with the aroma of shoe leather, her nipples tighten. "Yes, Master ," she nearly swoons. "An ass-whore should know what mischief ...
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