Rainier. Since her master had mentioned his
photography hobby, she made a mental note to ask him later if the photos were
his.
They entered the
large study and stopped just inside the door. “We have a little bit of
business to attend to before we can begin.” Cole announced, “Did you bring the
results of your tests?”
“Yes Sir, here
they are. I guess I’m pretty healthy.”
Cole handed her
his paperwork which stated clearly that he was STD free. She looked at it
carefully and handed it back, saying “Thank you Sir.”
He noticed that
she was wearing just the right amount of perfume. He couldn’t quite come up
with the name. It was something to ask her about later.
“Stand right over
there and be silent unless I ask you to speak,” Cole said, pointing to the
center of the room. A light piano concerto played softly from expensive speakers
concealed in the polished oak bookcases and soft light spilled from two lamps
in the corners.
Monica’s heart was
pounding and she concentrated on the features of the room for a moment to calm
herself. She saw that his computer was one of the latest models. Probably a
late Pentium class, she guessed, nice big monitor, ergonomic keyboard, CD-ROM
drive, expensive printer. The furniture reminded her of the expensive walnut
and teak pieces that her company’s CEO had in his private office. There was a
fax machine or copier on a credenza behind the desk. The stereo was apparently
hidden, she noted. As she looked down at her feet and noticed the fine texture
of the light gray carpet, her heart was again beating normally.
Cole pulled up a
comfortable chair. He placed it in front of her about six feet away and sat
down, which brought her attention back to him. He waited a few moments to see
if she would remain silent as instructed. Monica was looking approximately at
his feet, which he hoped was a sign of submission. She was wearing a short
bomber-style jacket over her white top, so the next thing he said was “Thank
you for coming, Little One. Take off your jacket and place it over the chair
behind you”
Monica complied
and returned to her position in the middle of the room. Cole was fascinated by
her instinctive submission. Perhaps she had more experience at this game than
she had admitted.
“Put your hands
behind your head.”
Cole’s line of
sight was drawn inexorably to Monica’s breasts and he studied them intently.
“Put your arms down,” he said, then “Put them back behind your head”
He noticed that
her breasts did not sag like they should for a 26 year old woman with this kind
of figure.
“What is your bra
size Monica?”
She felt a
delicious wave of humiliation sweep over her and struggled to get out her
answer. “I’m a 36 C, Master."
“Do you have
breast implants, Little One?”
“No Master!” she
exclaimed.
“Take off your top
and we’ll see about that. Place it on the chair by your jacket.”
Monica pulled off
her white top by grasping it from the bottom and pulling it over her head.
After placing it on the chair she resumed her position in front of Cole with
her hands at her sides.
Cole stepped
forward to examine her breasts and brushed some of her beautiful long brown
hair out of the way. With her arms down, they did sag slightly. The nipples
were medium size and quite hard already. They were a beautiful pair, perhaps
the prettiest breasts he had ever seen. The word perky came to mind, but he
didn’t know if perky could apply to breasts this size. Perhaps he should mail
the question to the Playboy Advisor, he thought while suppressing a grin. He
very delicately brushed her nipples with his fingertips and they grew even
harder.
“Put your hands
behind your head again,” he ordered, in his dominant voice which Monica found
both charming and irresistible.
He began to
squeeze and fondle the perfect
photography hobby, she made a mental note to ask him later if the photos were
his.
They entered the
large study and stopped just inside the door. “We have a little bit of
business to attend to before we can begin.” Cole announced, “Did you bring the
results of your tests?”
“Yes Sir, here
they are. I guess I’m pretty healthy.”
Cole handed her
his paperwork which stated clearly that he was STD free. She looked at it
carefully and handed it back, saying “Thank you Sir.”
He noticed that
she was wearing just the right amount of perfume. He couldn’t quite come up
with the name. It was something to ask her about later.
“Stand right over
there and be silent unless I ask you to speak,” Cole said, pointing to the
center of the room. A light piano concerto played softly from expensive speakers
concealed in the polished oak bookcases and soft light spilled from two lamps
in the corners.
Monica’s heart was
pounding and she concentrated on the features of the room for a moment to calm
herself. She saw that his computer was one of the latest models. Probably a
late Pentium class, she guessed, nice big monitor, ergonomic keyboard, CD-ROM
drive, expensive printer. The furniture reminded her of the expensive walnut
and teak pieces that her company’s CEO had in his private office. There was a
fax machine or copier on a credenza behind the desk. The stereo was apparently
hidden, she noted. As she looked down at her feet and noticed the fine texture
of the light gray carpet, her heart was again beating normally.
Cole pulled up a
comfortable chair. He placed it in front of her about six feet away and sat
down, which brought her attention back to him. He waited a few moments to see
if she would remain silent as instructed. Monica was looking approximately at
his feet, which he hoped was a sign of submission. She was wearing a short
bomber-style jacket over her white top, so the next thing he said was “Thank
you for coming, Little One. Take off your jacket and place it over the chair
behind you”
Monica complied
and returned to her position in the middle of the room. Cole was fascinated by
her instinctive submission. Perhaps she had more experience at this game than
she had admitted.
“Put your hands
behind your head.”
Cole’s line of
sight was drawn inexorably to Monica’s breasts and he studied them intently.
“Put your arms down,” he said, then “Put them back behind your head”
He noticed that
her breasts did not sag like they should for a 26 year old woman with this kind
of figure.
“What is your bra
size Monica?”
She felt a
delicious wave of humiliation sweep over her and struggled to get out her
answer. “I’m a 36 C, Master."
“Do you have
breast implants, Little One?”
“No Master!” she
exclaimed.
“Take off your top
and we’ll see about that. Place it on the chair by your jacket.”
Monica pulled off
her white top by grasping it from the bottom and pulling it over her head.
After placing it on the chair she resumed her position in front of Cole with
her hands at her sides.
Cole stepped
forward to examine her breasts and brushed some of her beautiful long brown
hair out of the way. With her arms down, they did sag slightly. The nipples
were medium size and quite hard already. They were a beautiful pair, perhaps
the prettiest breasts he had ever seen. The word perky came to mind, but he
didn’t know if perky could apply to breasts this size. Perhaps he should mail
the question to the Playboy Advisor, he thought while suppressing a grin. He
very delicately brushed her nipples with his fingertips and they grew even
harder.
“Put your hands
behind your head again,” he ordered, in his dominant voice which Monica found
both charming and irresistible.
He began to
squeeze and fondle the perfect
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