"Take them off," I repeated. Mr Loveman's breath was hot on my thigh, and I felt his clammy hands on my knees, sliding upwards. He adjusted his position, his head bobbing about within the confines of my skirt. I lifted myself off the seat and felt Mr Loverman tug at my panties; they slid down over my bum and rucked up at the back of my thighs; Mr Loverman took a fresh grip and peeled them downwards, over my knees, down to my ankles and off, and I sat back in the chair, pantie-less. I knew that at this stage Mr Loverman would not be able to see anything, as my skirt was completely covering him, and it would be dark (not to mention hot) in there.

I sat back in the chair and through my skirt grabbed his head with both hands, easing it backwards slightly, until the hem of the skirt was rested against his neck. His head was still completely concealed from my view, but as I lifted the skirt upwards and spread my legs, I knew that light would penetrate to the tops of my legs, and Mr Loverman would finally have a view of the haven he had craved for so long.

"Do you see it, Mr Loverman?"

"Yes, Miss."

"And?"

"It is beautiful, Miss. You are beautiful."

"Describe it."

"Your lips are swollen, Miss, and damp. I can still see traces of your fluid on them. They're quite red, and very open, and I can see inside you. You don't have much hair, Miss, you must shave it off. I can see your clitoris, Miss. Or at least, I can see where it is. It's hidden at the moment."

"I doubt it will be for long, Mr Loverman." I sat still again for a few minutes, allowing Mr Loverman to take in the sight. It felt intoxicating, sitting like that, allowing someone the privilege of viewing me, knowing that this was the fulfilment of his fantasies. I felt a definite sense of power, knowing that I could cajole Mr Loverman into this position, and that the mere anticipation of this moment had forced him to submit to the various acts of humiliation I had heaped on him in the preceding weeks.

"What would you like to do now, Mr Loverman?"

"Whatever you wish, Miss." Good boy, good answer.

"Would you like to touch me?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Would you like to lick me?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Would you like me to sit on you?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Hard?"

"Yes, Miss."

"All my weight?"

"Yes, Miss."

Oh, wasn't he cute? My little man would accede to any demand, I knew it. No matter what I asked for, he would obey me. Clever Mr Loverman.

"Are you still hard? Is that ribbon still on?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Excellent. Lie back on the floor, Mr Loverman, there's a good boy."

It was with, I sensed, a measure of reluctance that Mr Loverman dragged his eyes from my pussy and slid his head from beneath the refuge of my skirt. Not that he needed worry: he would be reacquainted with both very soon. He slid backwards and lay flat on the carpet, looking up at me imploringly, his little dick, still with its dinky red ribbon bowed around it, standing upright. How long had he been erect now? It was an impressive feat of endurance, I'll give him that.

"Hands down by your side," I told him, and instantly he obeyed. I got off my seat and stood at his feet, staring at his prone body. "You've been a very good boy today," I told him. "I'm pleased with your performance."

"Thank you, Miss."

"I didn't ask you to speak. Shut up."

"Sorry, Miss." I gave him a kick on the shin.

"You're in danger of losing all your brownie points, Mr Loverman. I won't tell you again."

This time he remained silent. I unfastened the first button on my blouse, and then the second. "But now your Mistress requires some satisfaction," I continued, peeling off another button, and another. I stepped forward, legs astride him, standing above his knees. I undid the final two buttons of my blouse and slid it free from the waist of my skirt, spreading it wide. From his prone position, Mr Loverman looked up at me lasciviously, taking in the view of my bared midriff and my white, lacy bra.

"Are you prepared to give me satisfaction?" He nodded, presumably unsure whether he was allowed to speak. I kicked him again, this time in the thigh.

"Yes, Miss."

I slipped the blouse off my shoulders and stepped forward again, so that I was standing above his chest. The hem of my skirt was hovering around his neckline, but I knew he wouldn't, quite, be able to see up it; not beyong the knee-line I imagined. He did have a good view, though of the rest of my body, and I reached behind me to unclasp my bra. I held it in place and carefully slipped the straps over my shoulders; peeling it downwards I gradually revealed my breasts, ensuring that Mr Loverman, lying below me, would be forced to wait until the last possible moment before he saw anything. And then I pulled it clear.

I stood above him and allowed him to drink in the vision of my bare chest. I'm not well-endowed, but the view from below, with his Mistress towering above him, would show them off in the best possible light.

I took another step forward, so that I was directly above his face, my skirt flapping about at his eye-line. I bent my knees and began to sink down.