The elevator whispered to the penthouse summit, city lights sprawling below like a conquered empire. I stepped into his domain—plush leather sofas gleaming under dimmed crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling glass walls framing the glittering skyline. Power pulsed here, in the air thick with aged whisky and cigar smoke. He lounged on the couch, remote in hand, eyes devouring me before I spoke.
‘Bathroom. Dress,’ he snapped, gaze locked on the screen. Heart pounding, I obeyed. On the marble vanity: sheer black stockings, pink corset with garters, red lace thong slicing my crack, silk black maid dress with white lace trim, towering 10cm patent heels. My cock twitched. I slid into the nylons—silky grip masking my leg hair, sending shivers up my spine. Thong next, string nestling deep, echoing last time’s mouth-fuck. Corset cinched tight, agrafes biting my flesh, compressing my 1.70m frame, accentuating my ass and thighs. Garters clipped after struggle; he burst in. ‘Hurry up, bitch.’ ‘Sorry, not used to this.’ ‘You’ll learn.’
The Privilege
Heels on—size 41 pinching my 42.5 feet. I wobbled, crashed onto leather cushions. Stood tall, teetering like a tower’s edge. In the salon, he inspected, made me spin. Hand slipped under silk, kneading cheeks, finger tracing my cleft. I froze, electric jolts firing. Slap stung right globe—’Ow!’ Box on glass table: heels inside. Bent slow, more slaps raining pleasure. Slid them on, balanced precariously.
‘Fetche glasses. Pour whisky. No ice.’ Marble bar cool under fingers, amber liquid splashing crystal. Sat beside him, his palm hot on my stockinged thigh, stroking fire. My bulge strained. Hand guided mine to his zipper—familiar swell begging release. But he rose. ‘PC time. Follow.’ Heel-clicks echoed hallway; he led, then pushed behind for ass-view sway. Against wall, cock grinding my crack through thin silk. Neck kisses, hot breath: ‘Good slut. Your ass kills me, whore.’ Spun me, sexes mashed. Kiss forced—tongue invaded despite limits. Leg hooked, owned. Stopped abrupt, dragged to office.
The Excess
Under desk, cramped but kneeling. Zipper down, thick cock out—musky scent intoxicating. Sucked deep, ten minutes of keyboard clacks above. Pulled pants off, balls dangling. Licked them low, shaft on face—pure degradation. Screen showed stranger jerking to us. Humiliation peaked as he came, pixels spurting. ‘Bedroom.’
Easier heels now. Bed silk sheets vast. Straddled chest, fed semi-hard meat. ‘Tell me you love my cock.’ Mumbled around girth. Ties bound wrists to headboard. Balls on lips—suck, slurp each orb. Cock slapped face, phone flash captured shame. Resucked to full throb, then jerked ropes across eyes, nose, lips. Pinned shut, but saliva dripped from his mouth onto mine. ‘Stay. Wait.’ Left tied, cum drying sticky, twenty minutes hell—forced swallow sliding warm, odd but not vile. Lips ached from suction, cock raged untouched.
Freed at last. ‘Wash face. Salon.’ Education far from over, penthouse secrets sealed in glass walls.
