This Could be The Last Time....

Slave is actually retiring from his long time partnership at the end of the year. The time is right and the thought of not having to show up at an office on a regular basis is liberating.

But along with some of my colleagues and the expansive view from my corner office perch, there is one ritual that will be sorely missed as I scale down my practice to something more laid back: those leisurely worship sessions behind my closed office door.

Yesterday at the end of the work day, my fellow worker bees through a retirement reception at the office. It was something I had been dreading.

"It feels like going to your own funeral, Mistress....."

I was in a dark suit and Mistress had a very dark blue dress on that verged on black.  Mourning attire.  She reminded me of that old Johnny Cash line. He always dressed in black and when someone asked why he always looked like he was going to a funeral, he would respond "Maybe I am...."

But before my "funeral" started, there was time for what could be our last in office worship. Mistress wriggled one leg out of those silky black tights. I pushed a chair against the door, draped that all purpose blanket on her "throne" and went to work.  It was a melancholy moment in a way. Savoring those musky juices and reminiscing about all the cums I had been able to deliver her in that sealed chamber sitting 28 floors above the River City street grid.  As usual, it did not take Mistress long to  ascend to the state of sexual bliss that my practiced tongue has been trained to deliver. I suppose we both have a pavlovian response to this special space.

After the dust settled and her pulse returned to the norm she rearranged her clothing for our little party, and I caught this fetching view of her black tighted bottom.  A bonus shot for our readers.


But will it be the Last Time?  I do know the fellow (Mike) who will be taking over my office come January. In fact, he is a tall handsome guy who has always had an eye for Mistress. They spent a good bit of time last night chatting each other up (or was it flirting?) as I accepted the congratulations of my colleagues and our staff on my "much deserved" retirement.  Who knows, maybe Mike will let us borrow the space from time to time in the future. Or, better yet, maybe Mistress can train Mike to perform comparable services should she decide she misses the view.