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Lucy is punished for her behaviour.
The next day she wore exactly what I wanted and as always just sat there showing no sign of wanting any other contact with me. I sent her another 'what to wear' request and without even returning a message she appeared with what I wanted the next morning.
During the next few weeks I gradually developed quite an obsession; I would make lists of what I knew she had and then find ways of putting them together in a way I would find sexy. I had her wear trousers, minis, with these shoes or the other, I started to control her underwear as well, at first trusting her to put on what I instructed her and then asking her, on a specific predefined moment in time, to bend, move, or just slide something off so I could see.
I felt that my mind was on fire. Not only did I control exactly how she came each morning to work I could also make her show me things. After years of being dependent on what they wanted me to see I became my own master! I knew what she would wear and I knew that I could watch and look at her as much as I wanted.
I now devised tables of different clothes, which corresponded to actions that she would take to help me see what she was wearing or just touch herself for me. For example, "the grey suit, white thongs, slowly move skirt up leg while sitting, turn at my direction, legs apart, time: 14:30, so I can see thongs".
I could see how just before one of our times for action she would slightly get excited, try to control herself with an extra-rigid posture and then give in to the instruction, some times with a little shudder, show me and go back to her work. I loved it!
I made sure that we were never doing just the same thing and that there was always a sense of a developing escalation or boldness in what I wanted her to do. I wanted her to come without panties one day, and the first time I made her show me her cunt was truly amazing. She could hardly control herself in the last few minutes before time and then opened up to me in a way no woman had done before, all this without getting too close or touching.
I then told her to shave and show me how it looked like - I could even see how moist it was on that day. I told her to come without a bra or to come with one but at a certain point go, take it off, sit, move, show me and go back to put it on. I told her to buy new things, to touch herself in front of me, always making sure there was nothing that could attract too much attention.
Up until then I did not feel an urge to touch her - just to control. I did, however, feel an urge to touch myself and there were days when I was sitting with a constant hard-on, like some Pavlovian dog that knew exactly when to start salivating because he was the one who rang the bell.
My next stage was to involve some more sexual action. I told her that I needed to know when she masturbated. I was sure that she did that, I said, and I thought that it would be a good idea if I controlled it too. She agreed with passion. She said that she masturbated each day, after work, thinking about the list for the next day and how she would show me what she had or did not have underneath. I told her to continue this tradition but not to cum until I allow her. I required a detailed description each morning of how she masturbated, where and when, and a declaration that she did not cum.
Every few days I would allow her to cum, first she could do that at home and then at work - wearing her wet panties.
We never talked face to face and I had no desire to get to know her in this way. I did, however, after a while, developed fantasies about fucking her. I could not get it out of my mind and it disrupted my old regime of little excitements. I always needed to change, to make it more exciting, not to get bored. I understood that without noticing everything was suddenly pointing in just one more action - fucking her.
I wrote her an email saying that I have decided that it was time for me to fuck her.