My name is Susan Jones, I am forty years old and I am a high-flying businesswoman. I work for a large corporate company that you would know, which is why I am not telling you the name. I am very successful at work; not so much in my private life. I have one failed marriage and three failed relationships. Don’t ask? I don’t exactly know what went wrong with them, but they all failed miserably and it all came down to the sex. It may have been me, but I like to think it was the men.

I was beginning to wonder whether I should become a lesbian, perhaps try my hand with the fairer sex. In the past, I have seen a few women in meetings and conferences that simply oozed sexuality, and they knew it. Throughout my career, I have only known one woman that took my fancy. It wasn’t how she looked; though she had a fantastic figure, with long legs and very prominent breasts. No, it was what she said and how it was said. Everything sounded erotic. She had a deep husky voice. I found myself talking to her once, by the bar; following a conference that we attended. We started chatting about men. Her voice intoxicated me. Every time she mentioned the words cock or balls she seemed to emphasise the vowel, even in phrases that were not sexual in nature. Nothing happened with her, I just wasn’t ready for that kind of thing. I’m not sure I am now.

In my line of work, I come across many people. Some are dominant and some submissive. Meetings are interesting; you can feel the men vying for dominance or willing themselves to be the favourite. In my position, I had that power over people and I knew I could use it to get what I wanted though I hoped, I never abused my position of authority. I always looked down on juniors as if they would, one day, become my boss.

Recently, though, my life has changed and I find myself having urges to do things that I would not ordinarily do. I fantasise about being dominated; a submissive wanting to please someone else, anyone else. When I fantasize, my urges are normally sexually related, but even if someone ordered me to do something in work, in a tone that was demanding, I may well react by saying ‘Yes, sir’. Perhaps, deep down in my psych, I need to be dominated to balance my position of power.

A month ago, I started seeing a psychologist; I had to make sense of my feelings. I was glad that she was a woman and that she had some experience under her belt. I couldn’t have coped with a twenty-something year old, fresh out of college, telling me all about myself. We have had four sessions, and, to be honest, I don’t know where I am going with it. I explained to her how I like to be submissive or exposed and how I would like for someone to order me to do something. I don’t think the shrink understands me. She sits there saying very little; just nodding her head now and then. When she speaks, her head is always lowered and she talks to me over the top of her glasses; her voice always calm and sometimes, even salacious, but always unprovocative. Her choice of words sometimes intrigues me; bordering on suggestiveness. At one point I thought she was going to give me an address where I could go to fulfill my fantasies.

The last time we met, I stopped talking; I wondered how long it would take her to say something and break the silence. I started the stopwatch on my wrist. It was a good five minutes before she asked me whether anything was wrong. Not bad money for five minutes of silence. I wish I got paid that much for keeping my mouth shut.

At that session, she startled me. She asked me round to her place for dinner one evening. I wasn’t sure whether to accept or not. Was she breaking professional standards here? Did she fancy me? Was this part of her research? Or did she really want to have a casual chat outside the confines of her, nicely furnished, yet oppressive office.

I accepted. I’m inquisitive by nature and I wanted to know where she was going with this.

I was given a card with the address on it, “Who should I ask for?”

She smiled, “Emily Stephens-Brown.”

I knew that of course, I had booked an appointment with her secretary for these sessions, but I needed to make a point. I mean, who gives a business card to people without their name on it.

I was told to dress smartly as if I was attending a special event or a party. I left her office, in the lift I shouted out, “At fucking last, someone is telling me what to do!”

I turned up at her apartment building. She lived in a very impressive building. I pressed the button and spoke my name followed by who I wanted to see. The door opened and I entered the foyer. An attendant escorted me to the lift. He allowed me to enter it; pressing the button for the fifth floor, before removing his hand. The lift crept upwards. I watched the numbers increase slowly; associated with the obligatory ping. The lift finally stopped and the doors opened. I was amazed to find another attendant waiting for me outside the lift. I was escorted to room fifty-seven, turning a corner before arriving at it. The attendant knocked the door for me. I was not unfamiliar with this level of grandeur, but even these attendants were a little too high class for me. This was a posh place.

I turned to the attendant, “What’s your name?”

“Brian, Ma’am.”

“Thank you so very much, Brian, you have been so helpful.”

Brian nodded his head as the door opened and Emily Stephens-Brown stood there dressed in white.

“Hi, come in, Susan.”

“Hiya.” It was all I could say. She looked stunning. Her body contrasted heavily with the white satiny dress; as she turned I could see it was virtually backless, the curve of the dress resting elegantly across the small of her back, emphasising her buttocks. Her black hair shimmered like silk over her black body.

I entered the room behind her and closed the door. We walked down a corridor and into a large reception area. At the far end was a table; laid out for a meal for two. It looked a swell place to live. I was captivated by the whole room before I heard Emily’s voice.

“You can close your mouth, it’s not that grand a place.”

I hadn’t realised that my mouth was open, but she was right. “It’s beautiful, elegant and simple. I would love it here,” I remarked.

“It costs, but I can afford it,” she replied.

I nodded, at her rates, I knew she could.

A waiter, yes, a waiter approached us with two glasses of champagne. We both took a sip before Emily motioned me to the table. Just beyond it was a vast window that overlooked the city.

“Wow, look at that view.”

I slipped past the dining table to admire the view. The city was vast; sprawled before me like a carpet of light. Though we were only five floors up, you had a wonderful view and you could also see the people below. There were few cars that passed the road I was looking out onto. It seemed a quiet neighbourhood.

Emily grabbed my attention and we sat to eat the meal she had planned. I can’t say she prepared it because the waiters brought it in. I presumed there were chefs in the kitchen, handmaidens in the loo, and a personal attendant that helped to dress and undress her.

The evening was wonderful, the conversation was light with plenty of room to change the topic of conversation or take another track. She spoke openly about herself and I did the same.

Emily leant towards me after the dessert was cleared and rested one of her elbows on the table in front of her. I couldn’t fail to notice how her breasts swung beneath her satin dress. In fact, I had noticed lots about her since I entered her den of iniquity. How she smiled at me, how she crossed her arm over her chest and rested her fingers on her shoulder when expressing anything sexually related. I wondered whether she was doing that so she could brush her arm against her nipples. I noticed how her nipples poked out from beneath her dress a few times throughout the evening. I must have been giving off similar signs because our visual innuendos were becoming far worse than they were when we started the evening.

Her dark brown eyes pierced mine. Emily licked her red lips and then bit her lip.

“What?” I said.

“You do know that tonight,” she paused, “will be the first night you realise your dreams.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m referring to your wants and needs, your cravings, your appetite for being a slut and exhibitionist.”

Her words shocked me at first, but then I smiled, “And who is going to make me do that? Your waiters? The chef? The attendants?”

“Me.”

“You!” I exclaimed.

“Well, I’m not going to make you, but my words are.”

“Your words…”

“We’re going to play a game, are you up for it?”

“What sort of game?”

“I instruct you what to do and you play the part. No questions asked. The word ‘no’ is forbidden. If you let me so much as utter the next instruction, then you have to do it.”

She hadn’t taken her eyes from mine throughout the whole conversation.

“I think you’ll like what I have planned for you,” she continued.

“What if I say no? What if I leave right now?”

“Then you will never know what you’ve missed, or how close you became to being free. Sexually free that is.”

The words ‘sexually free’ were good words to use, it struck lots of chords that echoed around my head and made my skin tingle. I liked the way the conversation was going and I was becoming more aroused as time went by. Emily had a way with words that enticed me. The way she phrased them were sensuality in the making.

I smiled, half biting my lip as I did so, “What is your first command? Emily.”

Her tone suddenly changed from soft whispers to firmly clipped words. I liked how she formed them when she spoke, “Stand up, now!”

I rose from my seat and stood by the table.

“Get over by the window, place your hands on the glass and spread your legs.”

Shocking words from a psychiatrist, I thought, but I did as I was told. The glass was a little cold to the touch, I hadn’t expected that. I found my chest heaved with the expectation of her next command.

“Unbutton your blouse, slowly.

Keep your legs where they are.”

I pushed off the glass.

Suddenly I was bathed in bright white light. I brought my hands to my blouse and started to unbutton it.

It was then that I noticed, just below me, were about eight, maybe nine sweaty men playing basketball on an outside court, lit by dim white lighting. It was not the sort of area that I anticipated being next to this wonderful building.

Suddenly they all looked up at the bright intrusion on their game.

I suddenly realised my situation. I was undressing, bathed in bright white light and my legs were spread. I think, if it were not for the fact that my body was being displayed like this, I’m sure they would have complained. I looked at every one of them as they stopped playing their game and watched me; their ball bounced away as I unhooked the last button holding my blouse together.

“Take it off, slowly,” barked Emily.

Holding each part of the blouse in my hands, I hesitated, as I looked at the men.

“You know the rules,” added Emily.

I sighed and removed my blouse, slowly. I held it in my right hand and stood there in my bra and skirt. I felt naughty doing this, exposing myself to their gaze.

“Let it fall to the floor and then remove your skirt. Wave it at the men below, before you throw it to one side,” she barked.

I reached behind me and unzipped the skirt; I figured it had to be done slowly. I brought my legs together and I stared at the men while I let it fall to the floor. I stepped out of the skirt to one side, opening my legs for the audience below me. After stepping out of it completely, I picked it up, held it up for the men to see and then casually threw it to one side.

I watched a passer-by, walking his dog, glance up at the bright window. He stopped and started to watch along with the other men.

I suddenly began to feel horny. I was staring at the men below me and urging them to get their cocks out and masturbate over my strip-teasing actions. I stood there in my bra, panties, suspenders and stockings. My high heels just made me look taller and more prominent than I would ordinarily have been.

I started to sway my hips from side to side as my hands pressed against the cold glass. I felt the urge to reach behind me and grasp the clasp of my bra.

“Not yet!” Her orders cut through me like a knife. Somehow, in my rush to become an exhibitionist, I had forgotten about Emily Stephens-Brown.

I gyrated my body against the glass panels, I clenched my buttocks as I swayed. Secretly, I hoped my actions were having the desired effect on Emily as well as the men.

“Take your bra off, then press your nipples against the glass.”

Her words electrified me. The thought of what she suggested inspired me to be as naughty and dirty as I could. I reached behind me and unclasped my bra. I slowly let it slip down my arms and caught it in my hands. I held it up for the men below to see that one more garment had been discarded.

I placed my hands back on the glass as I leant forward, slowly of course. I could feel my nipples respond and become hard as they approached the thin layer of cold air nestled against the glass window. I relished in the excitement of them growing hard. By the time they touched the glass, my eyes were closed and I was panting. My breath condensed as soon as it hit the window. I pushed my nipples against the glass and felt them freeze instantly. They were hard as nails as I brushed them over the window. I wanted every part of me to feel like this; cold and excited.

I looked down at the men through dreamy eyes. I could see them cheering me on, encouraging me. The man with the dog had his hand down his trousers; I could only imagine what he was doing. Off to one side of the street stood four girls, two of them had their hands over their mouths in mock horror. I watched them closely in case they were about to spoil my show. I saw one of them lick her lips and I smiled at them. I didn’t know whether they could see me smile or not; it seemed a natural thing to do.

“Turn around and take your knickers down,” said the voice behind me.

I turned to stare at Emily Stephens-Brown. I placed my bum against the cold window and felt a surge of delight rush through me. I kept clenching my buttocks causing my pussy to contract slightly. I hooked my fingers into my knickers and bent over. With my legs still slightly open, the people on the street must have had a wonderful view. I touched my toes and let my knickers fall from my legs to the floor. While I was bent double, I raised my eyes to watch Emily as I stepped out of my knickers.

For the first time, I could see her look on me as the slut and exhibitionist that I was. I loved the look of lust on her face. Well, that’s what I took it for anyway. I started to raise my body, watching her all the time. When I was upright, I placed my hands on my breasts and cupped them for her; urging Emily to come and suck on my hardened nipples. All the while, I was swaying my bum to the audience behind me.

I wanted to look behind me to see what they were doing. I was hoping it was something naughty. Had the old man cum yet? Had the young woman pushed her hand down her panties yet? Did any of the burly men have their cocks out? I wanted to know, badly.

I could feel butterflies in my stomach and then the tell-tale sign of my arousal slipped from between my lips. As I gyrated sensuously and teased my nipples, a drop of fluid formed on the edge of my pussy and dropped onto the hardwood floor.

I had never been so aroused in all my life standing there in front of Emily and a bunch of strangers on the other side of a full-length window.

As my juices dropped to the floor, I saw Emily’s tongue flash over her lips. She too was watching my sex and how it was responding.

“Show them out there,” she instructed,” show them what state you’re in.”

I was caught between her command and the thought that I would not see her face anymore. I wanted to see how lusty and hot she was feeling through my actions of lewdness and debauchery.

The first thing I did as I turned, was to press my sex against the window. It was a strange mix of cold and warmth. I half expected my leaking fluids to freeze against the window, but they didn’t. I started to watch the people outside as I displayed myself for them.

I must have looked hot. The man with the dog had gone. I hoped he enjoyed himself. The four women were still watching me but they were no longer giggling; and yes, the one woman did have her hand down her knickers and was furiously rubbing herself while leaning against the railings. I think it would be safe to say – she wanted me.

The guys seemed to be loving the show I was putting on for them. I noticed that three of them were rubbing their groins with their hands and occasionally thrusting their loins out in a mock fucking action.

I started to close my legs. It was a subconscious attempt at giving me extra pleasure. I always did it when I wanted to intensify my arousal. I ended up a little knock-kneed as I pushed my knees together and clenched my pussy as hard as I could with my thighs. I knew my bum was poking out in Emily’s direction. I just hoped she found my pose erotic enough to lose her own self-control. I was pinching my nipples quite hard and my forehead eventually rested against the window.

“Make yourself cum for them, Susan. They want you to cum.”

Her words excited me; filled me with need, longing, and urgency.

I clenched my thighs and pussy lips harder and harder each time. I pinched my nipples and wished that I could push them into my mouth and suck on them. After giving them an almighty squeeze, I started to stroke my breasts and let my hands wander over my body.

I closed my eyes and channelled all the pleasure I was feeling in towards myself. My mind was playing games with me; at one point it told me I was about to cum and then, as I pushed for it to happen, it told me I wasn’t.

I was sobbing with desire. I could feel my thoughts penetrate my body. Inch, by slow inch, I got closer to my orgasm. I could feel it within me, it was there, on the edge of my very being.

“Fuck, you’re nearly there aren’t you?” Emily shot a soft but rhetorical question at me.

Of course, I was nearly fucking there! My thighs were clenching together almost every second. My orgasm intensified each time I did it, I stroked and savoured the feel of my whole body. I was panting, moaning and groaning, as I struggled to convert this pleasure into something more tangible. My stomach was clenching forcing my body forward with every jerk. Every cell in my body was on fire, only to be put out when it glanced through the cold air close to the window.

I had it! My body started to convulse, I toppled slightly; my head touched the window preventing my body from falling too far forwards. My hands caressed my bum, thighs, and stocking tops, as I converted image after slutty image pouring into my head, into that single orgasm. Eventually, I had it!

As I came, my hands were caressing the tops of my thighs, wandering over my stocking tops and suspenders. I collapsed, in a heap on the floor, as my orgasm gripped me; causing me to double up.

Suddenly the lights went out. I could hear the whirring sound of blinds being activated. I couldn’t open my eyes. I could feel my breath bounce back off the wooden floor as I panted and gasped for air. The only sound I could hear was that of the pounding of blood through my veins.

I started to raise myself off the floor. I looked out of the window but the outside blinds were closing. Something inside me wanted to know what happened to the people watching. I sat with my back up against the window, my legs open; cum pooled on the floor where I had collapsed earlier. I was panting and my pussy was still leaking creamy fluids. I looked at Emily as she approached me.

Emily’s words rang out in the silence of the room, “Well, well, well...weren’t you reduced to a quivering orgasmic wreck, and right in front of me!”

Emily knelt down between my open legs, she dipped her finger into the creamy fluid on the floor and nonchalantly raised it to her lips; looking into my eyes, she sucked on her finger.

Her actions caused a stir in my body. I opened my mouth involuntarily and let out a gasp.

Emily Stephens-Brown never even touched me, though I knew the night was not yet over.