Today she has stood before the mirror in the ladies' room and teased her lovely nipples for me. I gave her a script:
I belong to you, Miss Gwen. I'm your filthy horny slut and I'll do whatever you say. I'm your fucktoy, your insatiable pussy-licking whore. You own me, every filthy nasty bit of me, and I'll do anything you want. Anything.
She recited this as she pinched and twisted and tugged her nipples hard, watching in the mirror, hoping none of her colleagues would come in. We have had some close calls in the past.
I know the pain in her nipples travels through Eva's body like lightning, quickly making her pussy wet. I have her dab some of that wetness on her pulse points like perfume and smear some more on her face. Anyone who gets close to her today will smell her sex, like an animal in heat.
Eva returns to work, her bra and panties tucked obediently into her purse. I have her put the purse on the floor, open, where anyone could look in and see her discarded lingerie.
What Eva doesn't know is that my business trip has finally materialized and I have been messaging her from a cafe a couple blocks down the street.
I direct her to play with her nipples a bit at her desk, then send her to the ladies' room once more to play with her increasingly wet pussy. But not to cum - no, not yet. Some days I have her cum over and over while she's at work, and other days I deny her until evening. This is turning out to be the second sort of day.
Eva tells me it's time for her lunch break and asks if I have any directions for her. Last week I had her visit a crowded market and purchase a large cucumber and a single condom. I tell her to wait at her desk while I think about it.
And then I am striding toward her. She has seen me only in photographs, so when I arrive at her cubicle it is a split second before her jaw drops in recognition. She is too startled to rise in greeting or to drop to her knees. She just sits in her office chair.
I smile. "Hello, sugar-britches," I say. "Surprised?"
I reach into my satchel as Eva struggles to recover the power of speech. I pull out a delicate black collar studded with sparkly rhinestones. "Pretty, isn't it?" I ask.
I hand the collar to her and she immediately buckles it around her neck. To her credit, she has not once glanced around to see if any of her co-workers are watching our encounter. I am impressed at her discipline.
Eva takes my extended hand and I pull her to her feet. It is the first time we have ever touched each other after months of dreaming, and we hold onto each other for a full minute, maybe two, as we look into each other's eyes.
Finally Eva remembers herself. She looks down shyly. "Thank you for the collar, Miss Gwen," she says softly. "I will wear it with obedience, love, pride, and devotion."
I put a hand under her chin and raise her face so I can look once more into her eyes. "I'm proud of you," I say. "You're a very good girl and you have earned this collar. I love you, sweet slut."
Eva beams under my praise.
I reach again into the satchel. Eva's eyes widen as she sees what I pull out. It's a leash. A very thin, delicate one. It's just a little silver chain with a black leather handle, like you'd use for a miniature poodle. But there is no denying that it is a leash. I clip it onto her collar. Eva drops her eyes to the floor once more in shy submission, but not before I see that she is blinking back tears.
I step close enough to feel her heat, to smell the secretions she is wearing at my direction. "You belong to me," I whisper. She nods, speechless.
I raise my fingers to the front of her silky shirt and unfasten two buttons, leaving it open to her sternum. The shirt blouses open. Anyone who cares to look will be able to see her little breasts nestled inside.
"Ready?" I ask softly.
Eva nods once. "Yes, Miss."
I take the end of the lead and walk her slowly away. We reach the doors and I smile as Eva's colleagues approach the exit and veer away when they catch a glimpse of us.
Then we're out on the busy noon-time street, walking through crowds of people in search of food and a respite from commercial tedium. I cut through the crowds, watching their eyes widen as they see her.
"The park, Eva," I say. "Where's the park where you eat lunch sometimes?"
She directs me to turn left at the next corner and soon we are at the park, a peaceful little oasis of green in a busy commercial district. We follow a footpath into the center of the park, where benches ring a green lawn. I walk her to one of the benches. "Sit here, love," I say, unclipping the leash and putting it back in my bag.
I walk to a bench across the circle of lawn. I watch as she pulls her shirt open and leans back against the bench, letting the sunlight warm her exposed breasts. She's done this for me before, many times, but until now I have only imagined it.
Passersby slow their steps at her bench, swiveling their heads to look at her. Some do a comical double-take. She ignores them and basks in the sun. It isn't actually all that warm. I can see from here that her nipples are fully erect, the lovely areolas crinkled in the open air.
Now and then a man stops by the bench and says something. Eva shakes her head. According to the rules of our game, she must send the first two away. She pulls a book from her bag and pretends to read as she exposes herself on the park bench. Just another sunny day.
A young man approaches her bench. A college student, by the looks of him. Backpack, glasses, a button-down shirt tucked neatly into jeans. Perfect. Eva shakes hands with him, engaging him in conversation. Then she takes his hand and leads him deeper into the park, behind some bushes.
A few minutes later she returns to her spot on the bench, sitting demurely and brushing a few blades of grass off her knees. I imagine I can see a few drops of cum glistening on her cheek.
I walk to her bench and reattach the leash. "Good girl," I tell her.
"Thank you, Miss."
I lead her to a restaurant I selected earlier. I know it's not in her price range. "Have you ever eaten here, pet?" I ask.
"No, Miss."
"Let's see if it lives up to its reputation."
I unclip the leash and we enter the restaurant. It's a large room decorated with old paintings in gilt frames. White tablecloths. It's a bit fussy for my tastes, frankly. Formal and old-fashioned. I'd have favored take-out curry. But there's time for that. I’m in town for several more days.
The waiter comes over and I order for both of us. To his credit, he doesn't glance twice at Eva's exposed breasts. I'll reward his discretion when I calculate the tip.
"How was the college boy?" I ask.
Eva blushes and gives me a detailed account of their encounter in the bushes. I have her tell me how it feels to be led through the street on a leash, exposed. She struggles to find words. "It's like a dream, Miss Gwen," she tells me. "It's thrilling and scary and better than I imagined it would be. I am terrified to do it another second and I never want it to end."
I listen as we eat lunch. It's delicious but neither of us is really tasting it. We are caught up in the intensity of the moment.
I pause as the waiter clears away our lunch plates, then ask, "Are you wet, sweet girl?"
She answers immediately. "I am so wet, Miss Gwen. It will be a miracle if the back of my skirt is dry when we walk back to the office."
"This place is known for its desserts, isn't it?"
She smiles widely. "I've heard about them my whole life."
"We should definitely order dessert then," I say, "but not until after you cum for me."
"Right here, Miss?"
"Right here."
Eva's smile confirms that she hoped I would ask her to do this. She doesn't bother to glance around to see who's looking before slipping her fingers into her skirt under the tablecloth.
"I'm wetter than I thought, Miss," she says.
"Hush, pet," I say. "Just cum for me."
She is quiet for a few moments. I see a blush start in her chest, between her breasts, where her shirt is still gaping open. It creeps up her neck and her cheeks. She's quiet except for her quick shallow breathing. She closes her eyes and I know she's close.
She has left one hand resting on the table. I reach over and lift her fingers to her neck so she can feel the collar there. An "oooh...aaah!" escapes her lips as her orgasm overwhelms her. She drops her head and her shoulders shake for a few moments until the tremors subside.
"Good girl," I say.
Eva beams under my praise.
We open the dessert menus and begin reading about the delicious options. Eva studies them all carefully, then closes the book and looks up at me. There's a mischievous gleam in her eye. "I can't decide," she says. "Is it possible I could have two desserts?"
I pretend to think about it for a moment. "Yes, I suppose so," I say, reaching into my bag. "But you'll need this." I see her eyes widen as she takes the dildo from me under the table.
In a miracle of bad timing, the waiter chooses that moment to return. "Have you chosen a dessert, ladies?" he asks.
"None for me," I say, "but I believe my lovely guest will be sampling two desserts today."
Eva looks up, the gleam still in her eye. "At least two," she says.
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