The Last Cigarette Ch. 03

Fuck. Could she stop doing it?

Were people waiting outside for the toilet? Just another few seconds. Sounds outside. Shit!

Just a couple more.

Up and down.

Shaking breath.

Heart racing.

Mustn't make a noise

One more.

She would have to make the text of thanks to her Dom using her phone in her lap under the table in a moment.

Just once more up and down.

*Thursday morning*

She was feeling exhausted after the previous day. Fucking the suction dildo hadn't remained a work place only event. As excited as she was completing her task expectations the previous day, it had meant an abundance of energy and enthusiasm when she got home and an eagerness to replay the events in the privacy of her own home.

Her pussy was still feeling it this morning when the phone vibrated on the side stand.

Task:

In the toilet today, use a drywipe marker from work to write on your pussy lips. GOOD on one lip and GIRL on the other in perfect symmetry and in your best considered handwriting. Watch yourself as best you can in the mirror and take a picture of how it looks.

Play by all means, but don't smudge the words.

Simple, effective, and to the point. A body marking exercise that had no permanency. Writing on her body was easy. Without thinking as usual, she returned the words he was waiting for.

'I do as I'm told.'

She pulled herself from the bed and attacked her routines in the bathroom. This task did mean a little more preparation and it had been a couple of days since she had had a decent shave between her legs and an exploratory stroke felt the beginnings of a slight stubble in places. The top of the curve on full swell, and right in the groove at the top of her legs.

Time for a bath, and an extremely good shave.

The bath was very hot and she added a lot of bath salts to make it as foamy and luxurious as possible. Feeding the bic razor over her slippery flesh, she repeated the actions until she felt as smooth and exciting as she could. Standing then to towel herself, she lifted a foot onto the edge of the bath, and passed her finger now down to confirm that she was the softest she could get her skin on the curve into her thighs and across the pubic area.

Loose fitting knickers today. If she was having to write on herself, then she would want to keep it on for a while. Her thought was that tight fitting underwear would rub it off too quickly. Checking her drawers, she knew she could find some larger less elasticated versions.

This seemed an easier task than the ones before somehow and she felt a cocky assuredness that this one was going to be easy. Drywipe pens were quite plentiful at work after all; no doubt the reason she had been told to do this, and she was expecting it to be a swift task to complete.

It was during the first break that she had perfect opportunity to complete her task. The corridor deserted and only two in the staff room for some reason, she popped into the nearest classroom and palmed a couple of pens before sauntering almost to the toilet.

Pushing her trousers and loose fitting underwear to her feet, she sat back on the toilet seat.

Scooching down to write however proved a little more tricky than she had imagined. She tried a variety of angles but getting to see the nib of the pen proved more awkward then she had thought it would.

Stopping to think, a plan formulated. Kicking off her shoes, she slipped her trousers and underwear off and lifted her knees to her chest.

In the mirror opposite she caught a glimpse of herself as exposed as if she was begging to be fucked; she could see that her entire slit was opened from ass to clit.

It looked open and exposed. She could imagine waiting like this on a bed with her feet attached to the headboard somehow. A waiting sex-doll for use any way required. Her labia opened once more and her body pent up with expectation and excitement. This was not a very comfortable position, yet her pain receptors hadn't even noticed.

Running her fingers down her lips, she realised that she was wet. Fuck. Well, that was no good, she needed her lips dry. Bone dry. It was no good touching her clit as that was like putting a finger over a tap and squirting it everywhere.

Wriggling on the seat and hearing an ominous odd creak, she grabbed a handful of toilet paper to mop herself up. Dabbing down her crack, she siphoned as much of her excitement off herself as she could.

Thinking that she had been a little over optimistic about this she looked down and realised she still needed an inch or so to see properly.

Having an idea, she wriggled again to grab her phone from her bag. Switching the camera app on, she reached one hand down with it and angled it back to see her pussy up close.

Her anus was gaping too now with the effort and location of her legs up and over her head. It looked rude and needy and she tried to ignore it with the close up of her lips. If anyone came in the room now, she would have nowhere to hide. Open for complete viewing. Had Sir planned this level of excruciating embarrassment for her deliberately? Most likely a test to see how devoted a subbie she was? How compliant?

Well, she was going to pass this test. She was made of sterner stuff. Putting to one side her embarrassing 'dying fly' position, she carried on with her task.

Taking the pen top in her mouth, she pulled the pen free with her other hand and angled it between her legs alongside the camera.

Watching from close quarters now on the screen, her knees up at her chest and her head curled against the cistern, she wrote a reasonably sized G on each lip, one opposite the other.

Blocking the letters and making them bold took a few seconds, the pen nib pushing and moving her lips, her pussy gaping almost obscenely as she did so.

The rest of the letters followed swiftly after, and then she retraced each one in turn to block the letters and make them stand out against her milky white thighs and pink lips.

The final effect was startlingly erotic, as the curve of her lips around her inner depths curved the letters too, as though a protective enchantment to what was between. The words looked like cupping hands with the world's most precious jewel in between.

She spent a second looking at what she had created on herself and angling the camera for a couple of photographs.

If only Sir could see her now, he would be so proud. Maybe this was how a tattoo would feel but without the eternity of it. It was almost like she wanted to emphasize the words now with colour and could only imagine the look on a lover's face if he found that on her as she removed her clothes one evening.

Standing, she regarded her look in the mirror, her hand once again between her thighs and aware that she was leaking almost copiously and more concerned about preserving her look.

Maybe it needed something else. Something that her Dom had not asked for but then again hadn't stipulated that she couldn't.

Looking down at an easier to see location, she removed the lid once more for one last word across herself and below the panty-line. SIR'S.

Not being able to help it; aware that time was up and that she needed to get back into work, it was almost an involuntary attack on her clit with the tip of one finger to scratch the itch that was assailing her head and mind.

That looked really pretty and a mark of Sir's appreciation of and pride in her. The thought of what she had done to herself for some reason was an even more erotic experience than yesterday. Most likely because of the longevity of it. She would hold that there for the rest of the day.

Maybe she should have used permanent marker? It would have meant a few days with it there before wearing off. A constant reminder of how he felt about her. Of his affection for her.

Another picture of the new word addition.

She so wanted to send the picture alongside her message of completion and thanks, but it felt too naughty. Far too naughty to do so. Another time. Not today.

This was a picture for her to glance at under the table every quarter of an hour for the rest of the afternoon and know what was on her body.

SIR'S GOOD GIRL.

This was a visible and tangible sign, so to speak, that she was no longer a smoking half wit, but Sir's good girl and worthy of love and affection.

She hoped it would stay there intact for the rest of the day. She fancied seeing what it looked like in the bedroom mirror when she got home. The thought of the symbolic badge of honour was already turning her on. As long as she didn't leak too much, which was very possibly a potential problem considering how she was feeling right at this moment.

The thought of the markings on her flesh would most definitely put a spring in her step for the rest of the day.

....

Task:

Today on at least three occasions before you get home, after completing your toilet, put one foot on the toilet seat itself, opening your thighs wide, and then using your hands, push the suction dildo in, and fuck yourself for about thirty seconds.

Think about your lover or your Dom or whatever you need to turn yourself on.

If you can angle towards the mirror and watch, even better.

On one visit however, I want you to *remove all your clothes first* and put your foot on the folded pile.

Watch how your body moves, how your breasts swing; how your thighs tremble; how the muscles in your legs define their shape.

Appreciate your natural beauty and be thankful you are fucking it and not fucking it up!

Take yourself to orgasm if you wish. Maybe keep that event for when you get home, or do it at work whatever. I really don't care if you cum or not.

It's the compliant act and the understanding you are not to fuck up the beautiful natural attributes that have been given you.

Text each time to say thank you.

....

The usual ping of the message app and once again her life had another goal that day. Another day of keeping her mind and body engaged and away from negative thoughts.

Another day of ramping up the naughty feelings, expectations on her body and the potential risk factor if discovered. Fair enough the fact that the toilet door at work locked and no one could see in, but the mere fact that she was doing it; was actively complicit and genuinely almost begging for submitting herself to that level of control, spoke volumes.

She had never felt so alive, so sexy, so desirable. The words on the screen turned her on. The fact that Sir had thought about her, imagining what she would look like and feel as she complied, had written them, and had such faith in her...

Well, that made her pussy tingle even now and she wasn't even touching herself.

Not much preparation was needed for today's task. Make sure she had the dildo. Maybe limit the layers of clothing. She still needed the bra. Her breasts were well proportioned for her body and though extremely pert, she liked the shape of her body when they were pushed into a cleavage. Knickers. Yes, she would wear knickers.

Fuck it, she thought, she would wear her normal ensemble. The task was about emoting herself; about building some alternative and pleasurable tension; about switching her mind from the hum drum day which created an evening's need to poison herself to an exciting day requiring an evening's need to use a vibe.

Fuck it. She would dress as normal and take it all off at the requested times because he had told her to.

'I do as I'm told!'

It was on the first toilet visit occasion that the problem arose. She had forgotten her dildo. Rushing to leave the house earlier had meant it slipped her mind. If she told him, he would think that she didn't care enough; didn't have enough respect for his tasks and the reasons for them. The thought of letting her Dom down was by now, unthinkable but without the rubber cock, it meant an apologetic text to him asking for an alternative idea.

His return message was kindly though she could sense the undertone of disappointment that she hadn't perhaps thought enough of it to be prepared.

She burned inside at the insinuation and desperately tried to allay his implied thoughts by repeated apologies and promises of the future.

His suggestions right then, however, included using whiteboard pens once more for want of a more phallic shaped object or to just use her fingers.

At the mid-morning break she took her first opportunity to fulfill her instructions. She had looked at the whiteboard pens and even considered wrapping rubber bands around them to give them texture, but decided against them as they were too smooth and inconsequential and chose to just using her hands. They were too thin to be of any use and if the top came off, she'd be in a mess one way or another.

Fingers it was then.

With one foot on the closed toilet seat and her trousers still round the other ankle, she worked her fingers into her moist pussy.

She remembered that he had said thirty seconds and she found herself counting as though almost wanting it over as soon as possible. But then the feelings took a hold and she tried to slow down her counting. Unfortunately she heard herself say the number thirty all to soon!

Almost reluctantly, she pulled her trousers back up, washed her hands and returned to work.

Again after her lunch when she should have been on playground duty she decided to create a kind of mild excuse in order to sneak back in. Quickly unbuttoning the top half and whipping her blouse over her head, the jumper already folded with trousers and trainers almost wantonly discarded on the dirty tiled floor, she couldn't help but wonder what residue was already smeared across the floor, subconsciously planning a wash for her clothing later that evening.

The under slip and bra now also removed, she was totally naked. Standing how she was, she could see figures through the high obscured glass window. Because it was open at the top she could hear children laughing and as a professional adult it was hard to escape a position of care and head into a self absorbed world, but she stood with one foot up on the toilet and the other on her clothes and tried.

She finger fucked herself with three of her digits, pumping so hard but so aware that she was being missed by the other staff on this occasion. Children waiting and staff wondering where she was.

She couldn't get into a sexy headspace on his demand this time but after the count of a very rushed thirty, she had to scurry out with her hair a mess and her blouse trailing out of her trousers. She ran up the stairs managing to just about tuck herself in before being met with, "here she is at last... nice of you to join us!"

It was on her way home later that she realised that she hadn't completed all three of the commands.

Guilt stepping in as usual, she didn't know how to reconcile it.

He had said three times and she had only done it twice.

Her face felt hot. She had promised him and it was too late to head on back to work. There was no way that she would be able to get back into the school now, plus it had taken her an age to get this far in the traffic.

Should she message him?

Should she confess?

She hated that she had let him down and anxiety at that moment effectively started a tear in her eye.

Salvation, however, came at a red light with a glance across at the supermarket.

They had toilets.

They had large toilets for customers. They had many cubicles and they were clean and looked after.

He had said - 'after completing your toilet'. He hadn't specified which toilet.

Did she dare?

It was just a quick left turn and she could pick up a couple of pieces of shopping afterwards to qualify the stop for the rest of the family.

Her Dom would be more than happy with that. Surely?

Decision made, indicator on, she swung the car onto the retail park and into an available space.

Hurrying and aware of a dampness starting between her legs, she barely managed to remember her purse and a carrier bag from the back seat to make herself look like a shopper, rather than a subbie on the way to utilise their rest room for a naughty nude task.

In through the main doors and a swing left to the required area behind the tills, bag held in one hand, purse clutched in the other. Just a woman requiring a pee before cruising the aisles.

She could feel her inner labia had already found its way out and was squashed in between and rubbing on her thighs and outer labia as she walked.

Head held up, she pushed the main door open to the toilet corridor and then a swift side step into the disabled toilet before anyone could notice or object.

Feeling like her loins were burning now, she kicked off her shoes whilst unbuckling her trousers.

Pushed down and pulled off from her feet, the trousers lay discarded and her eyes staring at the toilet like it was a long lost lover.

It was an object used by her Dom. It had been a way of feeling close to him. A way of respecting his tasks and therefore ceasing the abuse of her own body.

Knickerless now, she took hold of her entire top clothing to pull it over her head in one go.

She felt the familiar feelings beginning inside her, her breath becoming shorter and, she noticed as she removed the bra, her nipples to become immediately hard.

Totally naked, she grabbed the pile of clothing and placed it in a heap on top of the toilet lid. With an almost palpable satisfaction, she placed one foot on the pile and gratefully twisted her thighs to open her pussy.

Not able to wait any more, her fingers went straight in, seeking and searching for the spot that would scratch the itch.

No one outside trying to get in. No queue forming. No noise of children. No accusatory eyes asking when she would decide to leave. No time limit.

Just her one, two and maybe three fingers digging deep. A thumb on her clit; a rub and then thrust inside again.

Her eyes closed, her standing leg shaking slightly. Her Dom had told her to watch in the mirror. Fuck, the mirror in here filled a wall. Almost reluctantly, she opened her eyes and twisted her body to watch herself.

That looked rude.

Large and in glorious technicolour, her mirrored image spared no detail.

Not a bad body. The belly has had kids and a life; remaining flat and proportional. Tits still pert and full, despite having nurtured and nourished in the past. She could see what he meant about her leg muscles too; they looked quite defined at that angle with one foot up.

Stand on tiptoes girl, that makes you feel sexy too. That ass looks good. Heart shaped with glorious milky white cheeks. Could she imagine Sir entering this space now? Would he smack her ass?

'Taken into fantasy and locked and tied into a school toilet. Sir would return between lessons. What the fuck? Me, the slave waiting to feel full. Christ!

He would return and I would listen to the zip of his trousers as it was pulled down; my pussy starting to ache knowing I would soon get my reward for being a good, very patient girl.'

Her head then took her back to a porn clip she had seen recently of a woman being fucked in the mouth hard and gagging throughout. There had been a side to her that felt revolted in as much that the woman had had no control with saliva practically glooping from her mouth which had thrilled the guys. This is what they were after; this visual.

Would she do that for Sir? Would she feel his cock in her mouth; in her throat? Would she cough and spit over it every time it was eased out of her? Would he give her time to draw her next breath before it got replaced? Would she be happy to do that?

Right at that moment, it was all she craved. Sir's cock would be the centre of her life and attention if it was here. Sir's cock would consume her entire being if it was here.

She couldn't watch herself anymore. She closed her eyes and threw her head back in time for the accompanying bolts of lightning to effectively ricochet through and around her body, her fingers alternating between flying across her clit and being pushed deep between her labia, with the last expulsion of air to hiss through her clenched teeth.