Pride

His eyes drank her in, from toe to head, as he leaned back in His leather chair. He held up a finger and twirled it in the air, indicating that she should turn for Him. She did so. He altered the light until her full body was bathed in it.

He chose the black pinstripe suit wisely. The slacks had been hemmed so that they skimmed across the tops of the black patent heels He also chose. His eyes slid upward to where the material clung closely to her thighs and curvaceous hips and hugged her ass perfectly. The jacket, which was presently done up with three snaps, fell just below the waistband of her slack and nipped in nicely at her tiny waist. The collar of her tailored white cotton blouse lay open at her neckline and the sleeves peeked out just below the jacket's wrists. He smiled at the taupe polish on her perfectly manicured fingernails.

His eyes moved higher to her face. He admired the make-up that she had chosen. Her dark eyes made even bigger with the black kohl she had outlined them with and each lash well-defined by the strokes she had taken with her mascara. She licked her lips when His eyes fell upon them, full and darkened to a deep burgundy with a hint of shine. On her cheeks, the soft blush she wore under His gaze was colour enough.

And then her hair – that fiery mass of colour. Dark brown and auburn with gold and platinum highlights, styled perfectly in that spiky fashion she so loved to wear.

"Beautiful," He said. "Classy, feminine, elegant...you do me proud, little one," He spoke softly.

She turned again and in a voice equally as soft, she voiced her gratitude, both for the suit and for His admiration of her.

"Now, take the suit off and show me what's underneath, little one," He said, His voice stronger, more urgent.

She swallowed hard and nodded, her throat constricted with emotion. She carefully undid the snaps on her jacket and she slid it off. With the light shining as He had set it, He could see the outline of her breasts under the shirt and felt Himself stiffen.

He handed the hanger to her and she took it and hung the jacket on it. Her hands fumbled with the buttons on her shirt and her jaw clenched in frustration. After what seemed to be an eternity, she slid the shirt off and her nipples hardened instantly as the cool air hit them. She hung the shirt under the jacket and ran her hands over her breasts as she knew He loved to watch her appreciate her own body.

He shifted in His chair as He felt His cock unfold and stretch against the fabric of His jeans. He nodded, waving His hand that she should continue her striptease. She slipped off her shoes and toed them over to the side. She reached behind her to unfasten the back clasp of her pants and undid the zipper. They fell, pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them. She picked them up and hung them on the pant hanger, standing before Him now in only her black silk panties and black sheer stockings.

Her eyes widened as she watched Him unzip His jeans and free His cock from them. She immediately fell to her knees and leaned towards Him. Before her lips reached Him, He grasped her by the hair and tilted her head so that she would look at Him in the eyes.

"No," His voice almost a growl. "This time I want you only to watch the power your body has over me, do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," her voice a chastised whisper as she rose to stand again.

He slowly began to stroke His hand over His length.

She slowly undid the garters and then propped each foot on His knee as she rolled the stockings over her thighs and down her muscular calves. As each leg raised, He could see the damp outline of her heat against the fabric of her panties. He stroked himself faster as she bent to lay the stockings on a nearby chair.

Mesmerized, her eyes remained locked on what He was doing. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and tugged them off. He held His hand out for them and when she handed them to Him, He rubbed the wetness from them onto the length of His cock. He groaned deep in His throat, dropped the panties to the floor and began to stroke Himself harder and faster with her wetness under His hand.

She whimpered, low and deep in her throat. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. He chuckled almost wickedly, knowing how powerless she must feel, how turned on she was.

His hips began to buck as He felt His balls tighten. He pointed to the floor. "Lay and spread yourself for Me, slut," He growled out.

And as her fingers opened her soft pink petals, He rose from His chair, stood over her and pumped His sweet load all over her. His hot cum sprayed all over her mound, her breasts, her neck and her face. His motions slowed as He squeezed the last Himself onto her and He closed His eyes and took a deep breath.

He walked away from her and returned with a warm, damp cloth. He offered her His hand so that she could stand and began to clean Himself from her. He noticed that her own juices mingled with His against her thighs and this made Him smile. When she was clean, He set the cloth aside and sat back down in His chair, taking her hand and bringing her with Him to sit in His lap.

"Here's your lesson for the day, little one," He spoke gently while He cradled her in his arms. "You can wear the finest suit, the most elegant of dresses, the oldest of jeans and t-shirts but do you know what, little one?."

"No Sir, what?," she replied in a whisper.

"All that doesn't matter," He ran His hand over her bare body, from her cheek, along her neck, down her chest, along her tummy, cupping her femininity softly. "What matters most to Me is this, what's underneath all the finery, and that what's underneath is Mine."