Chapter 4- On the First Day of Christmas my Mistress Got From Me...🎶

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My mouth drops open, but when she lifts one eyebrow in the classic bitchy expression that screams, "What the hell are you waiting for?" I lift my bag strap over my head and rock forward until I'm on my knees at her feet.

This position feels more powerful, which comforts me. Even if it is, universally, a submissive position. I untuck the bottom of my pressed shirt, before releasing the top button securing my shirt collar around my neck.

Camry's arms are still crossed, causing her generous breasts to be pushed together and out towards me. I find myself staring at them absentmindedly as I undo each button one at a time.

I have a flat enough chest to avoid wearing a bra or even a binder of any kind, most days. So unbuttoning my shirt means baring my chest to the woman in front of me. It doesn't make me nervous, I would honestly walk around shirtless if I could. I'm not unaware of the athletic physique I maintain. I could almost get away with being half naked in public, except for the few understated- but obvious- details that identify me as being born a woman.

But now, in the confines of this elevator, I'm buzzing with anxiety. It isn't the fact that I'm revealing my upper half that makes me nervous, though.

It's who I'm baring myself to that makes this difficult.

My fingers tremor but I hide it as best I can, knowing her eyes are on me.

Four buttons in, my tits are exposed. I know when she sees them because I hear a change in her breathing. It's hard to miss when her quiet, ragged breaths and my own steady, forcefully controlled ones, are the only sound in the room.

I finish parting the shirt. My hands fall to my lap to rest.

"You don't listen well." She growls, "Take. It. Off."

My jaw works as I grit my teeth. As much as I want to do this, I also am afraid of what could come next.

We are at our place of work. She could embarrass me, get me fired. Camry could even report me to HR and ruin my reputation for further jobs. I would deserve it, but that would be a hell of a blow.

That thought does nothing to stop me from grabbing both sides of my shirt and pulling it off. I do it slowly, purposely flexing my shoulders, stomach, and chest as I shrug out of it. A quick glimpse at her face, confirms what I thought I might see, by pulling the inconspicuous little move.

There's no doubt, she's attracted to me still. She still wants me. That doesn't mean she's any less angry, though.

I'm not sure how this is going to turn out. Is her attraction and her libido strong enough to outweigh her need for retaliation? At this point, it's all up in the air. I can't tell just by watching her.

I can tell which direction I hope this evening takes, though I doubt my opinion matters at all. Doesn't stop me from wishing for a Christmas miracle, now does it?

Her hand reaches out, eyes flashing hot even though a grimace seems permanently settled on her lips.

I pass her my shirt, then drop my hands to my sides, still kneeling in front of her, subservient.

"Pants." She simply says, and I get uneasy, just knowing I'm about to have to go streaking through a place I would prefer to be clothed at.

I stand, anyway. Looking down at her from my several inches of height difference, I slip both shoes off using each foot and kick them to the side. My face is a blank mask, and she openly ogles me, the entire time I'm unbuckling and slipping my pants off.

Again, she prompts me to hand them to her. I do.

Now i'm standing there, in nothing but silky, tight, packing briefs which are doing their job very well. Thankfully.

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