Ms. Bitch is Mistress Susan Ch. 02

If Mistress Susan was actually his boss too, the sexual experience of his boss being his Mistress, no doubt, would be so much more sexually gratifying and erotically satisfying. With one woman secretly being the other, after having a two year relationship with boss Susan as her lowly employee, a sexual relationship with boss Susan as Mistress Susan would be so much more rewarding. After having visited her website more than a hundred times since he discovered it, he reread every word of her website every day as if he was reading from Mao Tse-Tung's little, red book or memorizing passages from the Bible. Without even having met her, as if he was a new cult member, he was already a disciple and a devotee of Mistress Susan.

Yet, still unsure if his boss Susan was Mistress Susan, he waited to make an appointment with Mistress Susan until he knew for sure that she wasn't his boss too. Not wanting to jeopardize his job by unmasking her secret identity and revealing the closeted sexual lifestyle of his boss, he needed to know if one woman was, indeed, the other woman before making a fool of himself and embarrassing her. Only, how does he do that without meeting Mistress Susan? Even after studying her website and reading every word over and again, he's still unsure if Mistress Susan is his boss Susan.

Already sexually attracted to his boss as much as he is to his newly perceived Mistress Susan, the attraction is more than just physical. More than just her beauty was their intelligence. With both women leaders of men, both were wicked smart. Perhaps, all of this time, it would be so ironic if his perfect Mistress was right under his nose. The fact that he already had a relationship with his boss, if what he had with his boss was called a relationship, was a big plus. If Mistress Susan was his boss, hoping that Mistress Susan was his boss, he felt as if he's been interviewing her for the position of his new Mistress for more than 2 years.

Yet, even though he's known his boss longer than he's known any of his Mistresses, he suspected that he knew more about his boss than she knew about him. Now that he knows so much about her from working with her, from watching her, and from stumbling over her secret life, that is, if that really is her online, he'd love for her to fill the role as his new Mistress. She was perfect. She was his ideal Mistress. He'd be happy working for his boss during the day and playing with his Mistress at night and on weekends.

Wishfully thinking, he imagined the best case scenario instead of his worst nightmare. His best case scenario was that she'd invite him down her basement to experience her dungeon. The worst case was that she wasn't the same Mistress Susan on the website he found and he'd be fired for making sexual advances to his boss. Wishfully thinking, he hoped her asking him to her house to drop off her work on the pretense that she was not feeling well was just a ruse to start a Domme/sub sexual relationship. Oh how happy he'd be if she was, indeed, Mistress Susan and he became her sexual slave.

Already contemplating his future career responsibilities with her as his boss, while sexually fantasizing about her as his Mistress, it was then that he realized that he may be getting ahead of himself. What if his boss wasn't Mistress Susan? He may be getting excited over nothing. Based upon who he thought she was by just some damned website and by some woman, referred to as Ms. Bitch, who resembled her, that may not even be her website. She may not be his hoped for Mistress Susan. After suspecting and hoping she was, he'd be devastated if she wasn't.

Here he was reading into her as if he knew everything about her, including her deep, dark secret of being a Dominatrix but he wasn't positive that was even her on the Internet. What if he was wrong about her being Mistress Susan? If he was wrong, not only would he be mortified for accusing her of being a Dominatrix but also he could lose his job by humiliating himself and embarrassing her. Suddenly getting sexually aroused over the thought of humiliating himself, his preferred state of mind, humiliation was nothing new to him. So long as she was the right Dominatrix, he enjoyed being humiliated, but in this situation, he'd save the humiliation for later, when and if he learned that his boss was, indeed, Mistress Susan or not.

She had to be Mistress Susan. She just had to be. She looked so much like her. As more evidence that she was Mistress Susan, she referred to herself as Ms. Bitch, the same phrasing that Mistress Susan uses on her website when describing herself. Yet, not having seen his boss with her hair down and not having even seen so much as her bra strap, he couldn't be sure that boss Susan was Mistress Susan. His boss would have to have one Hell of a body beneath those black clothes.

Making himself crazy with all of this speculation running through his mind, returning to reality, he thought, what if she really is home sick? What if she just wanted him to bring her work home to her so that she could work from home? What if she's not the online Mistress that he thinks that she is? What if she's not interested in him being her sub? What if this is all a horrible mistake and he's about to make a fool of himself and embarrass her? Unable to believe that she wasn't the website Mistress, Mistress Susan, the one he's been posting his messages to her blog, tweeting to, and flirting with online, he'd be crushed if she was no one other than his boss who was home sick and he was nothing more than her errand boy.

Still, even if she wasn't Mistress Susan, Mistress Susan is still out there and so long as she was interested in seeing him, he could make an appointment to meet her. Yet, afraid to make the appointment, he was afraid he'd embarrass his boss, if she was Mistress Susan. He needed to know first, if his boss is Mistress Susan. Without doubt, it would have been so much more fun if both women were one and the same. Yet, if he accused his boss of being Mistress Susan and if his boss wasn't Mistress Susan, he'd embarrassed her and humiliated himself. Moreover, she'd fire him. He'd lose his job.

"How dare you accuse me of being a Dominatrix. You're a sick man. You're fired," he imagined her saying. "Get out. Get out of my house."

Committing professional suicide by throwing himself on his own sword, he'd have no explanation other than to confess his secret sexual life to her. There'd be nothing else to do than to throw himself at her feet and ask for her forgiveness while kissing and licking her boots in the hopes that she'd urinate on him. Either way, for embarrassing her and for him revealing what she'd deem him having as a perverse lifestyle, she'd no doubt fire him. Yet, for once and for all, with his private life taking precedence over his career and his sexual lifestyle being more important than his job, he needed to know once and for all if his boss Susan was Mistress Susan too. Being that he was invited to her house and would be alone with her, a risk worth taking, he'd never forgive himself if he didn't pounce on this perfect opportunity to unmask her, even if it meant losing his job.

* * * * *

Barely 9 am in the morning, he rang her doorbell. Expecting to wait for her to get up out of her sickbed to drag herself to the front door, obviously in the way she so quickly answered the door, she wasn't asleep in her bed. While walking up her front steps and before ringing her doorbell, he imagined catching her in the shower and her appearing at the front door just wearing a towel. He imagined seeing her naked when her towel fell as he handed her the box of work. Proof positive that she was Mistress Susan, he imagined her double D breasts and her shaved pussy exposed before his horny eyes.

As if she had been standing by her door waiting for him arrive, he didn't have to wait very long for her to answer the door. Opening her front door immediately, as if she was excited having him come to her home as much as he was excited visiting her at home, she surprised him as much by her quickness in opening her front door as she did by the big smile she gave him when seeing him. She smiled at him. She actually smiled at him. Having never seen her smile before, she's so much more beautiful when she smiles. Having worked for her for more than two years, routinely glaring at him, she's never smiled at him. He wondered if she was on happy drugs for her illness.

Only, with her hair and makeup already done, she didn't look ill at all. She looked fabulous. If he was to play this all back in his mind later and, no doubt, he will, a surprising transformation in her typical business like appearance, it was shocking to see her smiling and looking more like the beautiful woman that she truly was rather than his bitchy boss that she always is. Normally in work, looking more masculine than feminine, by removing her femininity from the office equation by wearing black instead of color, wearing her hair pulled back, and wearing less makeup, she's somehow able to remove the woman within her by looking more like a man. Shocked by the stunning way she looked today, he was stunned.

Always in black, she downplays her makeup and she removes her hair from the equation of her femininity by pulling it tightly against her head as if making room on her head to don a wig. With her hair pulled back in that way, so tight that it removes the wrinkles from her face and moves her mouth in a tense, permanent grin. When dressed in Johnny Cash black with the only color on her eyes and lips, she reminds him of one of Robert Plant's models in his music video, Addicted to Love. Every time he sees her, as if Addicted to Love is her theme song, he thinks of that song.

Only today, by the beautiful way she looks now, different at home than she normally is at work, he noticed that she was wearing more eye makeup than she normally wears at work. Even more erotically exotic than wearing more eye makeup, her lips were totally covered with glistening, bright, Corvette red lipstick. She wore so much lipstick that he had the sudden need to kiss her. She looked so incredibly beautiful.

Whether she was Mistress Susan or not, she had those mesmerizing blue eyes that forced him to stare at her. Even when she was being a total bitch, especially when she was being a total bitch, he couldn't stop staring at her angry eyes. Accustomed to seeing her eyes from behind her big desk glaring up him, he sexually fantasized about her sucking his cock while sitting at her desk and looking up at him with those magnificent eyes. Her eyes when at work are always angry but here at her home, a total makeover, that is if she's, indeed, the same person on that Mistress Susan website, her eyes were confidentially in control. If he was charmed by her eyes when she was angry, he was even more captivated by her eyes and enthralled by her when she was smiling at him in the way that she was smiling at him now.

Always enamored with her eyes, even when they were angry, having never seen her eyes happy before, he more loved how her eyes looked now. No matter if her eyes were angry or confidentially in control, the windows to her inner beauty, he truly loved her big, blue eyes. He dreamt of her eyes every night. In addition to taking her voluptuous and curvaceous body to bed with him in his nightly sexual fantasies of her, he took her eyes. He loved her eyes, especially when they looked at him. Now smiling at him, he could see his image in her pupils.

Even if she wasn't a Dominatrix, having stumbled over his dream woman, done searching the world for her, it was evident to him now that he wanted his boss as his Mistress. Whether she was Mistress Susan or not, she was the one that he wanted. Already dominating him at work and loving how she abused him, he'd love for her to dominate him in her home too. She was so perfect for the job as his new Mistress.

Only, if she wasn't a Dominatrix, how in the Hell would he make her one? Even more than that, how in the Hell would he even broach the Domme/sub subject with her without her knowing that he was into such things? If she wasn't into bondage, discipline, dominance, and submission, how would he make her interested enough in that kind of kink to make her his pervert lover? Sadly if she wasn't into domination and control, no amount of wishful thinking would make her ready to play the part that he needed her to play to make his life complete with her as his Mistress. Yet, if only in the way that she acted at work, so domineering and so in control, she'd make for the perfect Dominatrix and his sexual fantasy come true of a Mistress.

With her blonde hair hanging free, going from white to blonde to gold, the light from the crystal chandelier in her foyer reflected her multi-colored highlights in her hair. He never knew she had such beautiful blonde hair. He never knew she had multi-colored highlights. With her office lighting so subdued and with her hair always looking so dark, nearly brown, when pulled so tightly back, her hair seemed painted to her head.

Now with her hair cascading down and free to curl and to collect around her shoulders as if hugging her neck in the way he wished he could hug her neck, instead of being pulled so tightly back in the way she always wore her hair at work, she looked more beautiful now than she ever did at work. She looked more feminine. She looked sexier. Once he discovered Mistress Susan's website, she now looked exactly like the woman that he imagined her to be.

Maybe her looking so much like Mistress Susan was nothing more than a coincidence. Maybe it was just him wanting her to be his Mistress Susan, especially now that she smiled at him. With her hair down, she looked more like Mistress Susan than she ever did before. With her looking so sexy and with him being so close to her, the scent of her perfume made him dizzy with sexual desire for her.

If only he could see her body, he'd know for sure if one woman is indeed the other. Having memorized every inch of Mistress Susan's beautiful skin, he wouldn't have to see very much his boss' beautiful body to know if his boss Susan was his hoped for Mistress Susan. Unless she had an identical twin who was a Dominatrix, how can one not be the other? They looked too much alike.

She was wearing a bathrobe, a white terrycloth all encompassing robe, and not a very sexy robe for what he imagined a Dominatrix would wear around the house when awakening from bed. Instead of defining her shapeliness with a thin, silk, sexy robe, her white terrycloth robe evoked the image of what his mother would look like wearing a white, terrycloth bathrobe or what a polar bear would look like with eye makeup and lipstick. Not that she's as old as his mother or as big as a polar bear but just as he was surprised by her extraordinary beauty, he was surprised that someone so beautiful and so shapely would wear a robe so ordinary and so unflattering. The robe did nothing to enhance her shapely figure.

Not evoking much of a sexual image, if only judging her by her terrycloth, white robe, maybe she's not his Mistress after all. Yet, now that he's seen her with her hair down and her extra makeup on, she looks so much like Mistress Susan even with the white, terrycloth bathrobe instead of a black, leather corset. Nonetheless, his aversion to her wearing white terrycloth, he had the uncontrollable urge to rub his face in her bathrobe in the way he used to do with his mother's bathrobe when he was just a toddler.

Assuredly, if he doubted that she had big tits before, clearly seeing the big impressions her breasts made in her bathrobe and with her robe pulled so tightly around her, he could even see the impressions her erect nipples made through the thickness of the terrycloth. Without doubt, he knew she had big tits now and as big as Mistress Susan's double D's. Just as the impression his cock suddenly made in his pants, he couldn't believe his eyes when he could clearly see the impressions that her big nipples made through her robe. He could only imagine how big her nipples would look if she was wearing a form fitting, silk robe. As if they were reaching out to him and beckoning him to touch them and finger them, before sucking them, he'd loved to finger her nipples before taking them in his mouth to suck them.

Only, a well mannered and respectful man, he'd never dare inappropriately touch a woman, especially a woman who was his boss, and especially a woman who was his potential Mistress in such an improper way without her expressed permission. If she was indeed a Mistress and he took such uninvited sexual liberties with her by dare feeling her big tits and fingering her erect nipples through her bathrobe, no doubt, she'd discipline and punish him for dare touching her. Definitely but still difficult to tell through all of that white cotton, as if trying to see something through a cloud or a fog, her breasts appeared as large as Mistress Susan's breasts. Her breasts appeared as large as those breasts that he saw on the website, the breasts that he sexually fantasized and masturbated over nightly, and the breasts that he imagined were his boss' breasts on Mistress Susan's website.

Not wanting her to catch him staring at her breasts or at the impressions her nipples made in her robe, he looked up at her pretty face, her shoulder length blonde hair, her big, blue eyes, and her red, full lips. Even if she wasn't Mistress Susan, he'd be taking home this image of her tonight. Even if she wasn't a Dominatrix, he'd be masturbating over her controlling him, punishing him, and disciplining him in her perceived dungeon before having sex with her. Even if his boss Susan wasn't his beloved Mistress Susan, she'd be playing a starring sexual role in his erotic dreams.

Unable to stop himself from staring at her, he lips were so inviting. When he looked at her lips, he imagined taking her in his big arms and holding her before kissing her. She had full, perfect lips and he imagined kissing and kissing her red lips. With his lips awash in her sweet, red lipstick, he imagined her allowing him to part her lips with his tongue. He imagined her surrendering her tongue to him while he felt her big breasts through her bathrobe and fingered her erect nipples before sticking his horny hand inside. Only, he couldn't just do that. Whether she was his boss or his perceived Mistress, he needed her permission before daring to touch her. He needed her to make the first move.

Continuing his sexual fantasy, he imagined reaching around her to feel her firm, round ass. He imagined removing her bathrobe to see what she was wearing or not wearing beneath all of that damn terrycloth. After kissing her, after feeling her voluptuous body, and pleasuring her pussy with his mouth and her ass with his tongue, he imagined her falling to her knees to return the sexual favor. He imagined her red, full lips around his big, hard cock. Lipstick on the dipstick, he imagined her leaving her red lipstick stains behind as evidence that she sucked him and deep throated him. If only she would, he'd never wash his cock again, that is, until the next time that she sucked him.

Now with his curiosity piqued, he wondered what she was wearing beneath her bathrobe. Imagining what it would be like to go to bed with her, he wondered what kind of nightgown she wore to bed. Definitely, she must have a lingerie drawer filled with Victoria Secrets barely there sexy nightgowns. Maybe she didn't wear nightgowns but wore pajamas instead. He could do pajamas, especially flannel pajamas. He loved the feel of flannel. He imagined how soft her breasts would feel through flannel while he unbuttoned all of those buttons. Then, pausing to see what each unbuttoned button revealed of her body before continuing unbuttoning her, he imagined finally exposing her big breasts.