Where the Fuck are my Glasses?

Where the Fuck are my Glasses?

The alarm blared on my nightstand and I swatted my phone to silence the intrusion on my dreams.

“Another day, another dollar,” I muttered as I opened my eyes a slit. My room was still dark and the rhythmic whir of the ceiling fan was the only sound. The air had grown chilly overnight and the thin cotton of my nightgown felt inadequate. Snuggling deeper into the blankets felt delicious as I willed myself to warm up a little. My legs felt silky as they rubbed together. Waxing really paid off. I made a mental note to do it again in a few weeks as I enjoyed the warmth brought on by the friction of soft skin on skin. I peeped a toe out from under my quilt to check to see if the room felt warmer and the clammy grip of morning make it scamper back to safety.

My desk, spreadsheets, and files beckoned me from the business corner in my brain. Spreadsheets. Mmmmm. The rest of my brain had other thoughts.

“Spread them wider or I will have to get the bar to teach you how to stand again,” Thomas had barked at me. The sting of the crop made me adjust position and slip deeper under his spell. He was simply marvelous.

I wiggled my butt to test for any latent soreness. Nope. Arnica and had aspirin cleared up any trace of my weekend romp.

My phone chirped from the nightstand and I brought it close to my face to read the message. I had to squint a little, but if I held my tongue just right, I could make out the words. Stupid poor eyesight. Thanks for the bad genes, Mom.

Mmmm. Thomas. The text just said:

Cold, beautiful?

Two little words caused shock waves to reverberate through my body. I quickly texted back:

Want to warm me up?

Can’t. Already at work.

I sighed. Of course he was. I imagined him leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on his desk. I wanted to straddle him and smother his handsome face with my boobs. Office sex was a fantasy of mine. I wondered if his spinning chair would support us both. I wanted to leave his lap streaked with kitten cream and his face bedecked with lipstick kisses. I wanted to be bent over his desk and spanked. So yummy.

Send pics.

I choked on laughter. I looked like hell and I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet. My curls were in a snarl that poofed off the top of my head and my face felt oily from sleep. But. My tits still looked good all perked up from the cold room. I raised my phone and hastily snapped a dimly lit picture. I hoped it was enough. The phone stayed silent for longer than I expected. I groaned and began to look for my glasses.

Reach in your nightstand and retrieve the clover clamps. Put them on those pert nipples, kitten.

Damn it. I hated those clamps. They were right where he said to look and I dangled them over my face. Beautiful. Delicate. But painful. I held my phone with one hand and opened a clamp with the other. With a deep breath, I pressed the record button. I whimpered as I grazed my aroused nip through my thin tank top. I rubbed my tits and then spilled them out of the top of my shirt. He would love that. It was going to hurt. I sucked in a breath and allowed the clamp to take hold. I quickly sent him the video. I needed to get the second clamp on. His response was immediate.

Good girl. Now show me the other.

Swooning and floaty, I gently attached the second clamp and sent him the video.

Mmmmmm. Beautiful. You can take them off when you find your glasses. Face time me, but don’t make a sound. I am working. I’ll be watching you, but I don’t want the whole office to know what my precious girl is doing.

Face Time him?! I quickly scuttled out of bed and blindly took a swoop at my hair and slicked on some lip gloss. I squinted at the mirror. Good enough. I guess. I can’t see a damn thing.

Waiting, kitten.

He hated to wait. Shit. I propped the phone up on my nightstand and quickly called him. His face filled my phone screen and my pussy pulsed. He always looked at me like I was a roast beef dinner and he was starving. But today he looked like a blob. His voice boomed in my quiet room.

“Spin for me, kitten.”

I did an awkward twirl and stuck my tongue out at him. My nipples ached, but his honeyed voice pushes thoughts of pain to the back of my brain.

“Strip, you bad little thing. I don’t have time for your sass. Let me see the clamps.”

My tits bobbed at the camera lens as the clamp chain slaps against my body. Owie. Wincing, I strip off my pajama pants and slide my tank top off over my hips. I dance around and wiggle for him a little bit. I hoped he was smiling.

“Remember to shhhhhhh. Where are you glasses, kitten? Show me.”

I begin to move around the room patting the carpet in the hopes to find my glasses. The chain swings and each time I move, my tits sway and pain zips through my body. I could hear him chuckle softly as he watched me move around the room. The pain reminded me that I was his kitten. He wanted a show. I arched my back and let the chain shimmy between my tits. I stood and positioned my butt in front of the camera and slid a wicked little finger along my slick slit. I turned and licked my finger clean and stood in front of the camera to show off my chained tits. The pain was coming in waves. I wouldn’t last much longer. I needed to find those glasses. Crawling again, I began to move through the pile of sex junk next to my bed that was left over from the weekend. Gloves, ears, toys, cock rings, all very good things. I slid a hand under the bed. Success! I perched them on my nose and looked at the camera so that I could finally see Thomas clearly.

His camera was tilted down to face his lap. The front of his pants was bulging and I could hear him talking to someone in the room. I suppressed a giggle and hungrily drank in the sight of his covered cock. The screen went black. Our connection was lost. I snapped a picture of me victorious in my glasses and clamps and sent it to him.

I then quickly removed the damn clover clamps with a shaky hand. Sometimes taking them off hurt more than putting them on. I massaged my boobs and headed for the shower. I turned on the water when my phone chirped again.

Such a very good girl. Meet me for lunch in my office. Wear a skirt.

Thank you, Charlton Tod for a another great prompt!

2 thoughts on “Where the Fuck are my Glasses?

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