Taming of the Stalker

"That being said," you say, looking right into the camera, "I want to add this before I leave you to yourself. If you ever get the urge to do nasty, voyeuristic things again? Keep me in mind, and humor me and my tendency to be dominant and possessive. You are my little stalker, and no one else's. I want you all to myself, and I don't want you watching anyone but me. That," you say, leaning forward and opening the miniskirt to reveal a skimpy leather corset underneath, "is an order."

You strip slowly for me, first removing the black dress, then the boots, one by one. You remove the leather garment you were wearing underneath, revealing only a black, silk thong. You slide that down too, giving me a good, full-on view of your naked body. You are beautiful, and I find myself willing to watch you and only you for the rest of my life if that's what you want. You're more than enough for me anyway. I reach down absently, though I know leather will block my hand, and sigh when it does, hoping the mail doesn't get delayed. It should only be three to five days until I get the key, and when I do, I'm sure I won't be able to get off nearly as well as I could under your ministrations, but I will do my very best at least.

The video ends, your body fading to black, and I find myself rewinding it to watch it again from the beginning, hearing your promises, your warnings, and your commands, and trying to memorize every word. I wait for the key to come in the mail, but even as I do, I know that soon, I will find you, and I will repay all the torture you've put me through and give you a delicious taste of your own medicine, and maybe more besides. I can't wait for that day to come, and since I can't lose myself in orgasmic oblivion, I content myself with making plans for our next meeting.

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