Fisting My Wife

That was six hours ago and the time had come to face the music. With my heart hammering in my chest, I knocked on the door of her office, an imposing, dark wooden portal with ornate brass handles."Come in Stephanie," she said, her voice even and measured. I pushed the door and stepped into the plush study, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. Would she tell me off? Would she dock my pay? Would she fire me, sending me home without money or a job? Oh god, I thought, what would I do without a job? Would I have to move back to my mom's?"Stand there please," said Miss Ford, gesturing with her hand. The older woman was sitting in her old wingback chair beside the window, bathed in the long golden light of early fall. She wore her usual immaculate skirt suit, perfectly pressed, not a single button out of place. Her chestnut hair was held behind her head in a neat bun, delicate reading glasses resting on her pretty nose.I moved across the room, the quick click of my heels on the wooden. ?slave, You please your Master very much?, as You run Your fingers around my neck along the collars, flicking the tiny padlock.Leading me by the leash, i follow a couple of steps behind You, feeling all the stares...feeling very humiliated. You lead Your slave down to baggage claim. Holding the leash tightly in Your hand as we wait...talking, asking each other questions, telling each other how good it is to finally meet. You tell me i?m even more beautiful in person, and that my pictures don?t do me justice. i smile softly, blushing, as i look down towards the ground. Then the bell goes off and the carousel begins to turn, and the bags begin to flow onto the revolving belt. You put the leash into my mouth, making me hold it for You. You pull Your first bag off the belt...and have me hold it as You wait for the other bag. You look back at me, and smile, noticing my humiliation...and everyone snickering, laughing and staring at me, making me so uncomfortable.As the second bag comes off.
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