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It was silence, yes, but it was the silence of a room – I thought I could detect the distant electronic humming of a computer.
Then I remembered Your very first instructions to me, Sir, when You told me to call You and ask for my panties. The instructions I had failed to follow.
I took a quick, shaky breath then, and spoke: "I… I apologize for being a disobedient little slut, Sir."
Then I stopped breathing altogether.
Oh, Sir! Then I heard You - a warm, affectionate chuckle that made me want to melt right there on the floor. And then the two most important words in the entire world:
"Good girl."
Then a different kind of silence, and I knew You had ended the call.
But those two words, Sir, those two words. Or maybe it was just hearing the sound of Your voice, but suddenly everything that’s happened between us during these last couple of days came rushing back into my mind. The few pathetic shreds of my façade that I’d carried into the bathroom with me, the pretense of still being Nadine the real estate lawyer, were blown away and once again I was nothing but Yours, Sir.
And then it was as if my entire body rippled, as if a wave of heat had rolled through me from my knees to the top of my head. I know that my mouth fell open as I moaned out loud, possibly loud enough for my clients to hear, and that there was a gush of moisture between my legs. I fell forward, face and hands to the floor as if bowing to You, Sir. My glasses (I had kept them on, Sir, as I thought You would want me to) fell to the tiles as I gasped for breath and fought, with every atom of concentration still remaining to me, not to come.
I knew it was not allowed, Sir, and I would be damned if I would fail You again if I could possibly prevent it.
And I succeeded, Sir! I clenched my fingers so hard that my nails nearly drew blood in both palms, clenched my entire trembling body while I whispered, "No! No! No!..." over and over again through my teeth. Oh, it was so hard, Sir, not to give in, not to listen to the little voice telling me that it would be all right because I was surrendering to You.
But I succeeded, Sir. And finally my body stopped trembling and I was able to sit up again. It seemed as though hours had gone by, although I knew I’d only been in the bathroom for a few minutes at most. My hands were still shaking as I removed the headset and tossed it back into my purse.
I took my position again. And considered my dilemma:
You had instructed me to masturbate immediately after calling You - and yet my pussy was still quivering like a stretched bowstring. I felt that if I so much as thought about it, never mind touched or, God help me, stroked it, no effort of will could prevent me from tumbling over the edge this time. Not to mention screaming at the top of my lungs, which would definitely not help my already strained relationship with the Halvorsens, still waiting for me and undoubtedly wondering what was taking me so long.
I thought as quickly as my overwhelmed state would allow. Your instructions to me were – and I struggled to remember Your exact words, Sir – to masturbate through my panties until they – and my hand – were good and wet. My panties were already so wet that I could have mopped the bathroom floor with them, Sir, as You know. I could hardly remember a time when they hadn’t been soaked. But I hadn’t actually masturbated, Sir, and of course my hands were still dry, unless You count the cold perspiration still on them from my recent struggle.
Oh, Sir! I was terrified that if I followed one of Your instructions – to masturbate – I would be unable to obey one of Your most fundamental rules: that I am not to come without Your express permission. And yet I had no choice but to try.
I slowly lowered my right hand until it hovered between my legs, less than an inch away from my pussy. Then, biting my lower lip with concentration, I raised my hand and cupped my pussy as if it were as delicate and fragile as an eggshell.
I took a deep breath and let it out as slowly as possible, trying to calm myself. Then I contracted my hand around my pussy and gave it the slightest possible squeeze.
Warmth and wetness immediately spread across my hand, the moisture even seeping between my closed fingers. A jolt ran up my spine and I gasped, immediately removing my hand from between my legs.
There, I thought, forcing myself to breathe through my nose and willing my body to subside, I’ve done it.
I hope You will be pleased, Sir, or at least satisfied that I made every possible effort to fulfill Your instructions.
I’m sure You would have been entertained, Sir, to see me struggling back into my clothing while simultaneously waving my right hand and back and forth through the air in an attempt to dry the pussy juices on my hand since I knew I was not allowed to wash it. And I hope it will please You to know that at the last moment, before opening the bathroom door, I decided to leave my pantyhose bunched below my hips as before, as a constant reminder of what I have become.
As I cautiously opened the door and stepped out, I heard Ann – Mrs. Halvorsen – talking to her husband. She was turned towards him and hadn’t noticed me. "…probably just having her period, that’s all, Ted. I mean, why el-- " Ted saw me and nudged her with his elbow, cutting her off, and they both turned towards me with embarrassed smiles. I pretended not to have heard as I made my way back to the desk and attempted to pick up where we’d left off.
I don’t know why, Sir, but somehow everything I had just done in the bathroom had the effect of clearing my mind, and I was able to focus on the task at hand quite easily, even with that marker standing in the middle of the desk. I hope the Halvorsens were reassured that I was actually competent.
They seemed to be, at least until the very last moment. We had plowed through the paperwork at hand, discussed some points about the closing costs, and scheduled our next appointment.
Everything was fine until they were on their way out and I shook their hands.
The moment I clasped Ted’s hand I saw him glance sharply down at it with a barely concealed grimace and I immediately became aware of the slight stickiness which still clung to my palm and fingers, and blushed furiously. I said nothing about it, of course – what could I possibly say, Sir? – and simply continued to tell them both that I thought they’d made an excellent choice on their house, even as I forced myself to turn and offer my hand to Ann, whose reaction mirrored Ted’s.
They made a hasty exit, and as they headed down the stairs I saw Ted lift his hand to his nose and take a short sniff, then turn and say something to his wife as they disappeared from sight.
Oh, Sir, what have You done to me, that I not only humiliate myself on Your behalf, but take such pleasure from it, and pride in it? That I had to lean back against the office door for a moment, weak in the knees, as I lifted my own hand to my nose and smelled what Ted and no doubt Anna by now had smelled? Surely they both know what a wet pussy smells like, and have realized what I was doing in the bathroom while they waited.
Sir, why did that thought turn me on so much? I desperately wanted to touch myself again, but didn’t dare. Instead, here I am on all fours on the floor behind my desk again, skirt up over my hips and ass in the air as I bend over my legal pad to continue writing to You, Sir.
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