Herr Kruger moved from behind Cynthia and stood directly in front of the chair where
she sat. He reached down and took hold of her nipples through the fabric of her blouse. As
per his instruction after their first encounter, Cynthia wasn’t wearing a bra. It was
shockingly sluttish for a woman like her, but she would never dream of refusing to do as
he asked. On her way out of the office she would go to the washroom and remove the lacy
bra that held her ample breasts. Then covering her brazenness by buttoning up her jacket,
Cynthia would make her escape and hail a cab. Only in the cab would she unfasten those
buttons, knowing that the driver would be watching her in the mirror, leering at the rock
hard nipples that tented out her blouse. It was all part of the dance and the stripping
away, physically and mentally baring herself.
Now those nipples were being pinched and twisted, causing her to gasp at the
electrifying mixture of pleasure and pain. He lulled her with the work, then when she was
not expecting; he pulled Cynthia to her feet by those aching hard buds - pulling her
upright so that she fell forward into his chest.
Cynthia groaned from the pain shooting through his breasts. Instinctively she tilted
her head back to offer her mouth, hoping beyond hope that Herr Kruger would accept it and
kiss her on the lips for the first time.
It was not to be. After a few more moments of blissful nipple twisting, Cynthia was
released and Herr Kruger backed away.
“Remove your jacket and blouse, Cynthia. Let me see the flesh that you are offering
to me.”
Cynthia immediately took off her jacket and dropped it to the floor. She then
started to unbutton her blouse, slowly revealing the smooth golden skin and the fullness
of her glorious breasts – a genetic gift for they were in no way enhanced. They sat high
and firm, perfectly shaped with large brown nipples that stood out so far, and despite the
fact that Cynthia was now in her early thirties, there was no suggestion of sagging – she
wore a bra for modesty, not for support. They were breasts that most women would envy, and
many would pay a fortune to have surgically replicated and bestowed upon themselves. And
they were breasts any man with a beating pulse would want to gaze on, ravish and enjoy.
Yet Cynthia had never been particularly vain about these treasures – they were simply an
asset to be used to get what she had always assumed she wanted from life – meaningless sex
with attractive young men, and influence over other men when a little sexuality was called
for in her business or private life.
Now her breasts and the rest of her body had a new significance that was infinitely
more rewarding. It was something to be offered to her unseen master... a feminine beauty
of classical proportions that some might call perfection... his to be used for whatever
purpose, to flaw the perfection if that was his wish, and make it even more beautiful...
to subjugate the flesh with firmly yield pain.
As Cynthia’s blouse came off, Herr Kruger toured around her, examining her splendour
from different angles. What he saw was exquisite; stunningly feminine and incredibly sexy.
His cock was throbbing, aching to feast - his hunger for Cynthia was more intense than the
young woman could ever know. It had grown with each week, with each new stage that had
passed, and now at last would know full consummation.
Cynthia had proved such a revelation; more of a find than Herr Kruger had ever
imagined when he had first spotted her entering the bank four months ago. He had been
captivated by what he saw, her physical beauty and her sure assertion that was the mask
she wore, and only a man like he could see through. And what he saw behind the defences
had drawn him like a magnet. He had recognised within her a flaming passion so deeply
suppressed she had no awareness of her own potential. She represented an enormous
challenge, but the reward for success would be equally great. Patience was then required
for what he aimed to orchestrate, and a month of enquiry through private detection gave
Herr Kruger cause to hope that he could make Cynthia his. The phone call and the first
meeting were crucial – everything had depended on how Cynthia reacted... if Herr Kruger
had judged correctly.
He had! Cynthia took the bait and made a leap of faith. And from wary curiosity
about what Herr Kruger was offering, Cynthia had blossomed, and now was so receptive, so
needy of the pain and domination Herr Kruger fed her.
She was receptive... needy... and she was so incredibly beautiful; her face was an
amazing fusion of the best in the gene pool of cool Anglo-Saxon and hot fiery Latin. And
as for her body, it surpassed all expectations – visually splendid in its femininity and
so resilient to the whip.
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