“Please,” she whimpered.

“Please what? you needy little slut.”

“Please use me, Miss.”

I looked at her. The contrast between the professional woman that had entered the room minutes earlier and the needy whimpering begs coming from the semi-naked slut now kneeling on the floor was so delicious.

I’d met her online, in one of those cavernous chat rooms where there are hundreds of people in the room but only a few actually talking. I’d done my usual trick of posting an erotic picture of a Domme and her lesbian submissive. Then I sat back to see who’d bite.

It only took a few seconds before the private message appeared.

“I’d like to be her, Miss.”

A quick check of her profile later and we were off.

We’d cyberfucked and in between the seduction and the mutually satisfying orgasms, I’d discovered she was a happily married businesswoman, but with urges her husband couldn’t satisfy.

Several more cyber sessions followed over the next few days. They were always quickies, making use of whatever free time she had. I quickly discovered she got off on being told how to masturbate whilst being told she was a dirty little slut and I got off on her telling me how she was dressed and how her being used made her feel.

The first time I’d told her to write the words CUM SLUT on her breasts with her lipstick, she’d sent me a picture afterwards as proof. Her breasts showed her age. They’d lost the elasticity of youth and dropped a little but the nipples were still perky, two swollen dark pink almost brown-coloured buttons. The writing was scrawled and uneven, as often happens when they have to write backwards and upside down but there was no mistaking the intention. When I told her she was now marked and claimed as mine, she’d merely replied, “Yes, Miss.”

What had started as late evening cyber sessions quickly expanded to fill her every free moment during the day. I’d ask her what she was wearing then order her to the office bathrooms to scrawl something over her tits or mound. I’d tease her with scenarios like walking into her office and closing the door and making her crawl between my legs or ordering her to kneel beneath her desk as I sat in her chair.

She’d record herself masturbating in the bathrooms at work. The locked stall door did little to stop the squelching sounds of frantic fingerfucking from permeating the room. She was always desperately hoping that she'd cum before someone came into the bathroom.

After she’d sent the mp3 file to me and I listened to her muffled whimpers, she’d tell me how her knickers were ruined and she was sitting at her desk with the sodden material sticking to her.

I knew she worked in central London and commuted in. We’d never been more precise than that, there’d never been any need. In the same way that she didn’t need to know more than I lived and worked in Edinburgh. But once my work asked me to go to London to supervise a project, I decided I had to have her, even if it was only the once.

Work had booked me into one of those drab anonymous hotels that could be anywhere. I looked out the bedroom window and watched the hordes of office workers trundle their way in the direction of Canary Wharf and the City of London.

I knew Tuesday morning was the quietest part of the week for her. We’d often cybered during that time when she was supposed to be at her desk, working through admin reports and preparing for strategic planning meetings.

I glanced at the clock. 10:54am. She should be on her way. I’d told her to dress for work as normal but to make up some excuse for work and come to my hotel instead. Room 417, to be precise, for an important meeting. She’d pleaded and begged to come to the hotel for the evening, wanting to spend the night but I had to be careful. I was down with work colleagues. They all knew I was married and many of them had met my husband. I wasn’t going to throw it all away just for a night with some little slut with no guarantee that it would even work out. So instead, I’d told my colleagues I was waiting for a conference call with headquarters and I’d join them at lunch.

At exactly 11 o'clock there was a timid knock. I didn’t even bother checking the spyhole but opened the door and stood behind it, making her enter the room before she could see me.

Once she’d entered, I closed the door behind her and told her to stand still and not speak. I ran my eyes over her ass as she stood facing the window.

I'd told her to wear holdups and hoped she’d remembered. I stepped closer and saw her stiffen as I flicked her long blonde hair to one side to expose her neck. It was long and slim and a vein pulsed rapidly, betraying her increased heart rate.

I pressed in close behind her, my crotch pressed against her ass and my breasts squashed against her back as I whispered in her ear, “that’s a good little fucktoy.”

Her sigh was audible. My arms wrapped around her, under the blazer, over the blouse. Stroking turned into groping as I kissed her neck.

She squirmed against me. Her ass rubbed in time to my fingers unbuttoning and tugging the blouse out of the waistband of her skirt.

The bra had a front clasp. I was pleased she’d remembered a conversation weeks earlier when I’d casually mentioned how I preferred front-opening bras as they allowed such easy access.

With a quick flick, the now empty cups dangled on either side of her breasts. My fingers and thumbs tweaked both nipples, twisting them, rolling them, hearing her gasp.

I moved my hands and slid the blazer over her shoulders. She let her arms hang loose and as I stepped away from her, the blazer fell to the floor.

I pushed her forward until her exposed breasts and face were pressed against the glass. The cold caused her to yelp in shock.

“Do you think the people in that office opposite us can see you?”

“I… I don’t know… Miss.”

“Do you care, fucktoy?”

“No, Miss.”

She virtually purred when I whispered “Good girl” in her ear.

“Are you dripping into your knickers?”

My fingers traced the waistband of her skirt, slowly pulling the zip down as I waited for her response.

“I think so, Miss.”

With the skirt unfastened, it was easy to tug it over her hips and let it pool around her ankles. The sheer black stockings were topped with a thin band of elasticated lace and the cream knickers matched the lace bra.

My fingertips traced the gusset, eliciting another gasp from her.

“You’re such a cum slut,” I whispered. “You’re soaked already.“

I watched her face turn red. The combination of being stripped and exposed, displayed in the window made her blush.

“I wonder if they’d want to see your hairy cunt too?” I giggled.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?”

She was on the verge of protesting when the fight went out of her. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes closed.

“I’m sure you’ll do what you want, Miss.”

“Good girl.”

I knelt and ran my fingers up the inside of her right thigh. The change in texture between the sheer nylon, the lace and then the bare skin felt electric. My fingers traced her slit through the soaked fabric. I played my fingers over her mound, cupping the lace then slowly dragging the fingertips along her covered slit from clit to arsehole.

Wrapping my first fingers around the waistband I slowly unpeeled. The scent of freshly soaked knickers is always exquisite. The damp patch had spread and as I slid the sodden material down her thighs, a long strand stretched, still connected from her slit to her knickers until eventually, the strand broke. One end congealed in her knickers as the other swayed pendulously, hanging, dangling.

When her knickers hit the floor she spread her legs without even being asked. I could see her luxurious bush reflected in the pane of glass in front of us.

I scooped up the trail of pussy juice on my finger as I stood up, walking my fingers up her spine.

I gripped a handful of hair and tugged, snapping her face back from the glass. Her eyes swivelled to look at me.

“You’re such a whore, aren’t you?”

“Your whore,” was her only response.

I held up my finger, coated in her juices. She gazed at it, biting her bottom lip. I dabbed her juices on her neck, just behind her ear.

“Now you even smell like a whore.”

I slowly licked my finger clean, tasted her for the first time, her flavour exploded on my tongue.

“Turn to face me.”

She turned obediently.

I let the fluffy white dressing gown slide off my shoulders and stood, revealing myself to her, wearing just my black lace bra and matching panties.

I picked my lipstick up from the dressing table and pulled off the top as I stepped towards her. Her eyes followed my every move. She knew what the lipstick was for. She’d marked herself often enough for me.

“Do you know what this shade is called?” I whispered as I rotated the base and the dark red lipstick rose into view.

She swallowed.

“Opinionated, Miss.”

“Good girl. You remembered.”

Opinionated was my favourite shade. The dark red matched my green eyes and black hair. With my pale Scottish complexion, the slash of red stood out against the white. I also found dark red was an excellent shade for writing on slut flesh.

I ran my eyes over her from foot to head. She was standing with her legs spread, another trail of cunt goo dangling between her legs. She gazed up at me with puppy dog eyes, begging, pleading.

I ran the lipstick over first my top then my bottom lip, smacking my lips together before crouching down to slowly and deliberately write CUM SLUT over her mound then FUCK on one inner thigh and WHORE on the other.

I stood up. She could see what I’d written reflected in the dressing table mirror. She swallowed, blushed then met my gaze.

“Yes, Miss. That’s what I am. Your cum slut fuck whore.”

“On your knees.”

The command was whispered but her reaction was instant. She dropped to her knees on the blue carpet and knelt with her hands resting palms up on her thighs.

I stood in front of her.

“Remove my panties.”

She started to reach up with her hands so I quickly added, “with your teeth.”

She swallowed, hesitated for a second then leant in and tugged the damp fabric down over my hips. I felt her nose brushing my curls as she tugged the flimsy material down with her teeth. Soon I could feel the cool air on my clit and my knickers were around my ankles.

I grabbed her head with both hands and pulled her towards me, mashing her face into my cunt. I pressed my hips forward, grinding my curls over her face. I rubbed her face and hair over my cunt, smearing my juices over her, marking her. Her eyes gazed up at me as I fucked her face.

I gripped her hair tighter, holding her face in place as I rubbed harder against her. I could see a red rash appearing on her nose and cheeks as my curls rubbed her, giving her a beard rash.

I felt her finger reach around and grab my ass cheeks. Her fingers scrabbled, pawing at my arse crack and fingertips traced my puckered dark star.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I cautioned. “No touching without permission.”

“Yes, Miss,” she whimpered.

I stepped away, still holding her by the hair, causing her to follow on her knees. I walked her to the edge of the bed, then tugged her hair to signal her to climb onto it. She quickly scampered on and then knelt, as if unsure what to do next.

I loved the mess I’d made of her face. Her lipstick was smeared, her eye makeup had run and her face had a glistening sheen of pussy juice over it.

I picked up a pair of tights I’d worn yesterday from the floor and wrapped it around her wrists, securing them together behind her back. A gentle push on the back of her head forced her face down onto the bed. Her ass pointed up into the air.

I had reached into my bedside drawer and had the lube out and poured over the butt plug before she even realised what was happening. She gasped when she felt the dribble of lube on her ass. It quickly turned into a “Fuckkkkk” when the cold metal probed at her puckered hole.

She did her best to hold still as I slowly but firmly pushed it into her. I watched her arse hole expand as the silver butt plug filled her. Her tight, apparently virgin arsehole stretched as I pushed until her sphincter shut around the base. The rose-pink crystal on the base glistened, reflecting the autumn sunlight streaming in the window.

I rolled her onto her back. She stared up at me with a mixture of lust and alarm written on her face. Her legs wriggled, trying to rub her empty neglected cunt.

“Please,” she whimpered.

I straddled her. Her eyes fixed on my pussy held just above her face. I saw her lick her lips and then I lowered myself down on her and sat on her face. One hand reached out to press against the wall, the other reached down to grab her hair.

I rode her. I used her face like a masturbatory aid. As I smeared my pussy juices over her face, I told her she was nothing more than a walking dildo. Her only purpose was to get me off. I tightened the grip on her hair and pulled her face deeper into me as I rubbed and ground down on her. I felt her tongue flickering over me. I told her she was a dirty little cum slut as I felt her tongue slide inside me.

Her mouth was open, her lips moved against me, french kissing my cunt as I rode her faster and harder. I could feel it build inside. My breathing was ragged. I panted as I humped my hips, pressing my cunt into her face, face fucking her.

As I came, I arched my back, pulled her hair and spasmed on her face.

When it subsided, I released my grip and placed both hands on the wall, holding myself upright until my breathing returned to normal.

I climbed off her. She lay there, marked with my cum. Her face and hair were a mess. Her arms were still tied behind her back and while the graffitied scrawl was slightly smudged, it was still legible. CUM SLUT FUCK WHORE still emblazoned across her flesh.

I rolled her enough to reach the tights and untied her, letting her move her arms to get the circulation going again.

“You can get dressed now,” I told her. “The butt plug stays in until home time. Clean it and leave it in your desk drawer instead of taking it home.”

The look of disappointment on her face was palpable. Her puppy dog eyes gazed up, silently pleading to be properly used as she answered with a “Yes, Miss.”

I wrapped the gown back around me and watched her get dressed. Her pussy dripped so much that the damp patch spread into her knickers as soon as she pulled them up.

Her eyes had lost their ‘please let me cum’ neediness as she rebuttoned her blouse. The blue cotton hid the lipstick scrawls. I couldn’t help smirking at the thought of her scrubbing them off in the shower as soon as she got home.

I kissed her before opening the door. A soft sensual languorous kiss, the fingers of one hand cupped her chin while I quickly opened the door with the other. A quick smack on the arse sent her on her way back into the hotel corridor.

I leant against the doorway and watched her leave. Her gait showed she was adjusting to the butt plug in her ass as she moved slowly down the hall towards the lifts.

It had been so hard not to just take her and use her until she lost control but I had to be strong. I’d learnt to always leave them wanting and needing more. That way they were sure to come back as soon as I clicked my fingers.