Kiss My Feet Emily #3
"Are you ready for this, Emily?" Kaitlyn asked, her hazel eyes searching the younger woman’s face, ensuring the absolute certainty of her consent. "If you want me to stop, you tell me now. But if you stay on this desk, you are mine to mark."
Emily swallowed hard, a rush of wet heat blossoming between her thighs at the raw authority in Kaitlyn’s voice. She didn't want to stop. She had been craving this boundary shattering release for weeks, desperate to give up all control to the older woman.
"I'm ready," Emily whispered, her voice steady and resolute. "I want you to spank me, Kaitlyn. Please."
A dark, intensely satisfied smile spread across Kaitlyn’s lips. "Good girl. Keep your eyes on me while I do it."
Kaitlyn stepped closer to the edge of the desk, positioning herself perfectly. She raised the leather portfolio, letting the heavy material hover just an inch above Emily’s left buttock, testing the distance. Emily’s muscles tensed in delicious anticipation, her toes curling tight inside her nylons.
CRACK.
The sound was shockingly loud in the quiet, empty office. The heavy leather came down squarely across the meat of Emily’s left cheek.
Emily let out a sharp, involuntary gasp, her body arching slightly off the wood as a blinding wave of heat flooded her skin. Through the sheer, dark nylon, a bright, blooming circle of pink instantly began to rise against her pale flesh.
"Ah... god, Kaitlyn," Emily whimpered, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"Don't move, Emily. Take it," Kaitlyn murmured, her voice entirely calm, entirely dominant.
CRACK.
The second strike landed on the right cheek, perfectly symmetrical.
This time, Emily groaned aloud, the sting biting deep into her muscles.
The sharp pain was instantly followed by a rushing, throbbing heat that made her blood hum.
She kept her eyes locked on Kaitlyn, watching the intense, focused pleasure on her manager’s face.
At home, Kaitlyn was always the quiet, submissive wife, but here, she was a goddess of authority, her chest heaving slightly as she took absolute possession of Emily's body.
CRACK. CRACK.
Two rapid strikes followed, alternating sides.
Emily’s ass was beginning to turn a beautiful, deep crimson beneath the dark sheen of her hosiery.
The sheer nylon acted like a second skin, trapping the heat and making every subsequent blow sting even more intensely.
Tears of pure sensory overload pricked the corners of Emily’s eyes, but she didn't pull away.
She leaned into the pain, her submissive nature entirely fulfilled by the brutal, beautiful honesty of the punishment.
"You are handling this so well for me, Emily," Kaitlyn praised, her voice a low, husky purr. She lowered the leather portfolio and reached out with her bare hand, placing her palm flat against Emily’s throbbing, hot right cheek.
Emily let out a long, trembling breath at the cool contrast of Kaitlyn’s skin.
"Look at how beautiful you look right now," Kaitlyn whispered, her fingers trailing down the curve of Emily’s ass, tracing the angry, dark red welt marks that were forming beneath the smoke colored nylon.
"My perfect, obedient little accountant. Every time you sit at your desk tomorrow, every time you walk past my office, you are going to feel this sting. And you are going to remember exactly who owns you."
"Yes... yes, mistress," Emily cried out softly, the title slipping past her lips with absolute ease now. The burning on her skin was melting into a deep, heavy ache that pooled straight into her wet, throbbing pussy.
Kaitlyn tossed the leather portfolio onto the desk with a dull thud.
She stepped even closer, pressing her hips against the side of the desk right next to Emily's head.
She reached down, her long fingers sliding into the waistband of Emily’s smoke-colored nylons.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she began to peel the tight fabric down Emily’s hips, exposing the raw, bare, crimson marked flesh of her ass to the cool office air.
As the nylon slid down past Emily’s thighs, Kaitlyn’s hand moved around to the front, searching between Emily's legs. She found the silk of Emily’s panties completely soaked through, drenched in the evidence of her arousal.
"Look at how wet you are for me," Kaitlyn whispered, hooking her fingers into the lace of the underwear and pulling them down along with the nylons. "You love being disciplined, don't you?"
"I love it when you do it," Emily gasped, her head rolling back against the desk as Kaitlyn’s bare fingers finally made direct contact with her naked, dripping pussy.
Kaitlyn slid two fingers deep inside Emily’s wet warmth, letting out a dark moan of her own as she felt how tight and ready the young woman was.
Emily arched her back, her bare, pink-tipped toes rubbing frantically against each other at the end of the desk, completely at the mercy of Kaitlyn’s touch.
The contrast was absolute. The bare skin of Emily’s ass felt raw and fiercely hot against the cool, polished mahogany of the desk, while the deep, rhythmic intrusion of Kaitlyn’s two fingers inside her was slick and overwhelming.
Emily was suspended in a state of pure sensory dominance, her breath catching with every stroke of Kaitlyn’s hand, her fingers still desperately gripping the edge of the desk.
"You’re dripping, Emily," Kaitlyn whispered, leaning over her, her mouth so close to Emily’s ear that the heat of her breath sent a secondary shiver down the girl's spine.
"The sheer hosiery didn't hide a thing. You were sitting across from me, calculating numbers, completely drowning in your own skin."
"I was thinking about your feet," Emily gasped out, the confession tearing from her throat without her permission. "I was thinking about... about the taste of your toes under the desk."
Kaitlyn’s fingers stiffened inside Emily for one sharp, electric second before she began to pump them harder, a low, guttural growl escaping her chest.
The honesty of the submission was doing things to Kaitlyn she had never experienced in her quiet, domestic life.
Here, she wasn't the sweet, dutiful wife waiting at the door.
She was the architect of this girl’s pleasure, the absolute ruler of this dark office space.
"Is that what you want?" Kaitlyn demanded, her voice dropping into that terrifyingly beautiful dominant register. "You want to worship me again?"
"Yes, please... please, Kaitlyn," Emily pleaded, her hips instinctively bucking against Kaitlyn’s hand, chasing the friction.
With a sudden, deliberate movement, Kaitlyn pulled her fingers out of Emily’s soaked center. Emily let out a loud whimper of protest at the sudden emptiness.
"On your knees. Face the edge of the desk," Kaitlyn commanded, stepping back a single pace.
Emily scrambled to obey, her body trembling from the residual sting of the spanking and the intense ache between her thighs.
She turned over on the mahogany surface, bringing her knees beneath her.
Her skirt was still bunched around her waist, her bare, crimson-marked cheeks exposed to the shadows of the room.
She crawled to the edge of the desk, letting her lower legs dangle off the side, looking down at Kaitlyn who stood directly before her.
Kaitlyn didn't wait. She reached for the zipper of her own tailored black skirt, sliding it down with a sharp, metallic hiss.
She stepped out of the garment, leaving herself in a silk slip and a pair of dark, sheer black stockings that ended at her mid-thigh.
She didn't look like a corporate manager anymore; she looked like an untouchable queen of the shadows.
Kaitlyn hoisted herself up, sitting on the very edge of the desk right in front of Emily’s face. She spread her legs slightly, placing her beautiful, bare feet squarely on the seat of her executive leather chair, which she had pulled closer.
"Take them out of the straps, Emily. Clean me," Kaitlyn whispered, her eyes dark, heavy lidded, and completely focused on the young woman’s face.
Emily’s eyes widened as she looked at Kaitlyn’s feet resting on the leather.
Because Kaitlyn had been wearing her high stiletto pumps for hours, the scent of her skin was richer now—a potent, intoxicating mix of her amber lotion and the natural, warm musk of her body.
Her high, elegant arches were tense, the crimson polish on her perfectly aligned toes gleaming under the faint desk lamp.
Emily leaned forward from her kneeling position on the desk, dropping her chest low.
She grabbed Kaitlyn's right ankle, her fingers pressing into the soft skin just above the joint.
She brought the sole of Kaitlyn’s foot directly to her face, inhaling deeply.
The scent was entirely overwhelming, hitting a primitive part of Emily's brain that erased every corporate rule she had ever learned.
She began with her tongue, tracing the very outer edge of Kaitlyn’s heel.
Kaitlyn let out a sharp, ragged breath, her fingers digging into the edge of the mahogany desk as Emily’s warm, wet tongue made contact. "God, Emily... right there."
Emily grew hungrier. She slid her tongue up the deep, smooth hollow of Kaitlyn’s arch, applying a firm, wet pressure that made Kaitlyn’s toes curl instinctively.
Emily could feel the micro-tremors in Kaitlyn’s foot, the evidence that her manager’s cool, corporate composure was fracturing under the intensity of the pleasure.
"Suck the toes," Kaitlyn groaned, her voice losing its steadiness entirely. "Like you did before. Swallow them for me, Emily."
Emily opened her mouth wide, sliding her lips over Kaitlyn’s big toe, engulfing the deep crimson nail entirely. She used her teeth gently, grazing the underside of the toe while her tongue swirled around the tip, creating a heavy, wet vacuum.
Slurp. Slurp.
The wet, slippery sounds of Emily’s enthusiastic worship filled the quiet room, competing only with the sound of the rain against the glass.
Emily moved down the line, taking the second toe, then the third, sliding her tongue deep into the tight, sensitive spaces between them, cleaning away every trace of the long corporate day.