Letter from Baltimore

Dear Shoeblossom,

Perhaps you can tell me if my obsession with a cruel young subordinate is out of order.

Thanks,

Dr. Marin BellamyMen called her Croissant because she was "delectable" and her friends called her that because she was a little flaky, but complex a girl as she was, Croy had a lot of fun in life.

Getting her to pay attention to me took a lot of dedication. Fortunately, she was bi-curious, and loved my massages and the fact that I had disposable income to spend on her.

And, strawberry blonde that she was, Croy loved being worshipped!

Making me kneel in front of her as she fingered her big boobs. "You like these, Marin?"

"Y-yes, Croy. You have beautiful tits."

I'm a thoracic surgeon at Bon Secours, a major hospital here in Baltimore. Croy is an X-ray technician, and not a very good one.

But damn, she's hot.

Rolling down her tube top to show her full breasts, Croy casually took some massage oil and began rubbing her nipples.

She knows I want to rub them, I want to rub all of her, but heartbreaker that she is, that's probably not going to happen.

When I move slightly from my kneeling position she holds up a red tipped finger. "No, no, you old dyke. Let's stay where you are."

"P-please, Croy--" I try not to cry. She could be so cruel!

But watching Croissant playing with a strawberry blonde curl, running her long pink tongue through her full lips, just peeking...

And the other hand repeatedly flicking her nipple just makes this old girl crazy.

Her ice blue eyes watching me carefully, like a hypnotizing cobra, Croissant let go of her tit. "Rub your clit a little, Marin. But not too fast."

Touching my slit is delicious torture. And I don't get to focus on it much when Croy and I are together. Mostly it's lick, lick, lick on her own delicious mound.

Of course if one of the men calls, she drops me like a hot potato.

When Croissant discovered I had spanking fantasies, she found an old wicker carpet beater of her mother's, and tied me over the couch arm rest naked and showed what a fabulous tennis arm she really had!

I remember after she untied me, I was staggering around her living room, naked, scarred and weeping, and I just couldn't wait to go home and frig my yum-yum.

I feel so embarrassed that I diddle myself like a teenager. I'm forty-seven!

But it is especially humiliating when Croy asks me to do it right in front of her, you know?

She's done worse stuff.

Once, I thought we were going to co-host a nice barbecue, and she ended up humiliating me in front of our friends by ordering me to strip down and go around on all fours begging for table scraps, and licking out a dog bowl.

I had to service friends of both sexes until my jaws were numb, and then she tied me to a post in the rain while everyone else went in to have a glass of wine.

But even then, the most embarrassing part was when we were alone, and Croissant casually gave me permission to play my fingers around my labia, dwelling intensely on my afternoon's humiliation.

There's something about worshipping a goddess like Croy that makes me SEARCH for ways to serve her in public, and incite her to further subjugate me.

And it's so humiliating to touch myself.

Now I rub my clitoris and Croissant snickers at me.

"You old bag, I can't believe how wide and distended your cunt is." Croy is overcome with giggles.

She basks in my discomfort, that girl!

When we first met, she was so respectful, and a little awed by me. Once my icy criticism caused a girlfriend of hers, a unit clerk on the floor to burst into tears.

But after Croissant discovered my submissive side, she truly made up for her earlier respect.

She wants me to lose weight, and in the evenings, very late, she has me jog around the block in the nude as she drives along screaming encouragement of a sort.

"Go, Porky, Go...pretend my twat is right ahead, or better a big bowl of potato salad!"

And now, ohh heaven, Croissant is shimmying out of her shorts and touching her own self.

I try to move forward, as you can imagine, I just want to kiss a bit of that nectar.

"Nope. You stay back, puss-bag." Croy says cruelly. "I don't want your big mastiff tongue drooling all over my snatch."

Tears clog my eyes as I sit back on my haunches. What have I done? She's always praised my cunnilingus before.

"I wish I had a man with a DICK here." Croissant says absently, as she uses her nail to twirl around between her nether lips. "I get sick of just dealing with you, you old bull-dagger."

Stare at the ground. Don't let her get to you. But how can I help it?

I watch her in the mornings, when she does aerobics or Zumba or whatever it is, in the living room, and oh, those perfect breasts bouncing in the snug leotard...

We go out to dinner, or bar-hopping and I always enjoy the gazes of attentive men and women everywhere. She's amazing, my Croissant!

But then she gets in moods like this, I can't touch her, or sometimes she decides she wants to poke her cigarettes out on my stomach.

At work, when I'm making my hospital rounds, lecturing attentive residents, my insolent X-ray technician will crook a finger, and I excuse myself, and we duck into a towel closet or something, and...

I have a hopeful face, and then she kicks me right in my crotch, right in my scrubs, and I fall to my knees and only then does Croy let me feast on her nubile quim.

Once or twice she's surprised me and forced me to service an African-American orderly, usually an old man.

"I just want you to remember, Doc, that you're not a big deal. You're just a mid-life lezbo, and kind of a pitiful one at that."

Now, noticing my tears and rejection, Croy smiles with satisfaction. It's time to have mercy. She motions to me, and I crawl to her.

"Let's see that tongue go, Marin. "

As I begin licking hungrily, Croissant casually takes a cane from the couch and reaches over my busy head, bouncing between my legs.

WHACK!

Yes, Croy's reach is long and she enjoys whipping me to encourage my fevered tongue worship.

"Let's get to it, swine!"

THWACK!

SNAP!

SLAP!

I try to ignore the whipping and just lick, making sure she feels no teeth. When Croy cums, she always tries not to show it, just a little quiver.

God forbid that I get any "positive feedback" right?