Chapter Nineteen
Anya’s Third Fantasy
She was seated behind what had once been his desk in his study; wearing the severely cut two-piece suit in charcoal grey she knew he loved so much; skirt rising up to mid-thigh as she sat to reveal her powerful young thighs she knew he loved even more.
“Come,” she said, at the sound of the two timid knocks upon the door; the knowledge he was having to ask permission to enter his own study in the home he owned, she knew, would not be lost upon him and would increase his feelings of shame and helplessness.
“You, er wanted me, hmm, master?” he asked having great difficulty forcing the word out, his whole face aflame with blood made molten from humiliation and self-disgust.
“Very good,” she applauded him, “you remembered to show me the proper respect
