As the day progressed, I could feel the weight of the stress melting away with each passing moment. The BossGirls were captivated by their scenes, leaving me with a much-needed break from their relentless demands. My mind wandered to more enjoyable thoughts, such as finding comfort in an unlikely place—the pliant body of a slave hidden beneath me.
I made my way to my personal area, where several slaves awaited my arrival. Their eyes were downcast, their bodies trembling with anticipation and fear. Each one hoped to be chosen to serve me in some capacity during this precious break time. It wasn't long before I spotted him: A young, lean man with wide eyes and parted lips that exposed his quivering tongue. His gaze fixed on me as I walked towards him, his anxiety growing with every step.
"You," I said simply, pointing at him. He scrambled to his feet and bowed deeply before me, showing me the reverence he hoped would earn his attention. As he stood before me, I took in his vulnerability—his nakedness exposing every curve and crevice of his toned body. I could feel the heat emanating from him, amplifying the throbbing between my legs as I considered my next move.
Finally, I decided on my chosen one. With a lift of my finger, he dropped hastily to his knees before me, his face only inches from the swell of my groin. My heart raced as I reached down and grasped his head firmly between my hands, tugging it up towards my jeans-clad crotch.
"Open wide," I commanded, my voice thick with anticipation. Slowly but surely, the slave opened his mouth, revealing a red-stained tongue that trembled with fear and excitement. His eyes locked onto mine, begging for permission to taste what lay ahead. With a nod from me, he pressed his face closer to my crotch, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.
I lowered myself onto the slave's face, feeling the softness of his lips against my jeans as he prepared himself for what was to come. His hands gently grasped at my thighs, begging to feel more of my flesh against his. As he caught the scent of my desire, his breath hitched in anticipation.
Slowly, I began to grind my hips against his face, feeling the rough texture of his tongue against the fabric that separated us. The sensation was exquisite, and I couldn't help but moan softly into the silence of our private chamber. The slave's hands moved up my thighs, his fingertips brushing against the edge of my panties, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body.
As I became lost in the ecstasy of our encounter, I felt a twinge of guilt for using this slave in such a degrading manner. Yet, as I looked down at his bowed head and trembling body, I knew that he found pleasure in his submission—in serving me willingly and without hesitation.
And so, as the moments ticked away, our rhythm grew more intense, fueled by our shared lust and desire. I lost myself in the feel of his warm mouth against me, grateful for this moment of reprieve in an otherwise chaotic day. When at last I climaxed, my moans echoed around us, mixing with the sounds of our breathing and the soft slapping of my jeans against his face.
Nearly spent, I pulled away from him, relishing the last traces of our intimate connection. The slave remained on his knees, his eyes wide with adoration and humility. As I stood up, I gave him a gentle pat on the cheek, a reminder that I was still the one in control.
"Time's up," I said, my voice still shaking from the intensity of our encounter. With one last look, I walked away, leaving him behind in a haze of passion and longing. As I made my way back to join the BossGirls, I couldn't help but reflect on the power dynamics at play in our little world—and how much I loved being on top.
