Kneel before me (and, yes)

I looked at the young woman questioningly. She returned my gaze uncertainly, as if she realised that she had forgotten something, but was unsure what. I nodded my head upwards and she got the point: Jumping to her feet, she offered me her seat. I calmly sat down in it and crossed my legs. There were other seats free, but the woman in black stood obediently before me, head bowed.

Good.

Still without speaking I glanced down at a point on the carpet by my feet. The brunette swallowed – a look of excited anticipation on her face – and knelt before me. I wondered just how much experience she had of the scene. Maybe she was a real newbie, just trying it out. I licked my ruby red lips, my own sense of excitement growing. As she dropped to her knees, the brunette’s long skirt fell open from the central slit, revealing her creamy white thighs to my gaze.

As she knelt, the woman in black hesitantly looked up, apprehensively meeting my gaze. I looked coolly down at her. She seemed so **** down there. Her face looked uncertain and her breasts heaved against her tight bodice.

I smiled graciously to her, as one would to an obedient and faithful servant.

“Worship my breasts,” I instructed. The brunette leaned eagerly forward, though still on her knees. But, as she drew close, she checked herself, glancing frequently at my face, searching for confirmation that she was doing the right thing. I smiled indulgently.

Tentatively, she pushed up my halter top, exposing my breasts to the room. I wanted to order her to move faster; to grasp my fruit. But I resisted, letting her explore at her own pace.