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</div>The sight of you {<span style="font-size: 12px">the wife of my worthless manager</span>} willingly subjecting yourself to my whims, clearly stepping into territory that must be as terrifying as it is intoxicating. And yet, you remain and voice your consent to continue; it will be the last time I every ask your permission to do anything with or to you. My hearts shifts in emotional tenor from cold to chilled, and seeing your disheveled hair fall and hanging tits sway as I strike your pale ass cheeks fills me with unparalleled satisfaction.<br/><br/>"Keep your arms crossed behind your back," comes my quiet yet firm command. Still gripping the crown of your scalp in my firm grip, my hand around your wrists gradually slides down your spine to your backside. My fierce blue eyes casually glance down and revel in the obedience you so willingly demonstrate for me. How can a woman not fall in love with a gorgeous woman who throws herself at one's feet?<br/><br/>"You must realize by now that your husband, Jack, is an emotionally-retarded and spineless disappointment." The statement comes unbidden, uncontested. "I can't help but pity you," I say, incredibly honest. "I think that's why you wandered into my office." Perhaps, your subconscious motivated your sense of survival; you secretly crave what you've been missing all your life: strength and protective superiority. Taking a chance with more balls that your husband could ever conceive, you did the best thing imaginable by coming into my office. Mistress can be cruel, but she is merciful; such a cry for help will not go unheeded by your new owner.<br/><br/>Mistress slides her hand over your red rump, freshly tender from my gifted slapping. My hand still grips your red scalp {<span style="font-size: 12px">forcing you to stare at yourself, at the state of your life up until this moment</span>} and the fingers of my hand at your rear embark on a southern journey. The oval rim of your vulva feels my teasing fingertips, each of your petals is touched with a delicate and petite sensitivity. The fluid nature of your sex enticing me to act<i>sans </i>patience, and without warning multiple fingers slip into your pussy and embed themselves. My tips wriggle and touch your inner walls, my thumb slipping up to your anus.<br/><br/>"Mistress plan on improving your life as of right now," I tell you. The sound of sloppy, liquid mess echo about my office, and my stocking leg brushes against your bare thigh. I wonder how long you will last until orgasm; and then, whether you will be able to muffle your outcry of complete bliss.<br/><br/>"Accept the pleasure your Mistress gives you ... but ask for permission before taking it," I command.