The Mistress and I had long ago severed our relationship. I missed her every single day.
Once a Mistress….
One day at work, we passed each other in a hall, around the corner from her office that’s off the beaten path. For the first time ever, she looked me in the eye.
“Stop,” she said.
I immediately halted. Apparently she still had her grip tightly on my psyche, surprising me, but surely not her.
I didn’t move.
My former Mistress slipped into her office and clicked the lock. I stood stock still for a few seconds, then I heard the lock open and she walked out with a brown lunch bag in her hand.
She passed the bag to me and said, “Go in the storeroom and milk yourself.”
She had not given me the direction to milk myself for many, many months, but I went into the storeroom, clueless about the brown bag, but obeying her instructions without hesitation.
Wrapped In Her Power
I closed and locked the storeroom door, then peeked into the brown paper bag. Blinking, I reached in and pulled her still-warm panties out, holding them reverently.
I was hard within moments.
Milking for Mistress
I did all sorts of naughty things with her panties (use your imagination… or experiences) and was able to orgasm quickly.
I cleaned up my pleasure-wet, then inhaled the panties one more time before gently folding them and setting them neatly in inside the brown paper bag.
Sighing, I turned the knob on the storeroom door, stepping back out into the hall, only to find it empty. Had she been called away? What should I do with the brown bag? Set it on her desk? Mail it to her? My head swirled with the possibilities.
A Gift of Memories
I saw my former Mistress in the halls now and then, my heart skipping a beat each time I turned a corner and she was there. She never did look me in the eye again, however.
She also never asked for her panties back.