Joan arrived to her office at 7:59 AM. She took off her scarf and hung it on her coat rack. She unbuckled her coat and slid it off her broad shoulders. She hung it and brushed any speck off of it.
She walked into the little room in her office and prepared a cup of tea. She took it and sat down at her desk, flipping through the envelopes gently placed by her assistant on her desk the night before.
Notice of inmate transfer, Department of Corrections letter, etc. Joan sighed and put them back down, straightening them. She sipped her tea and turned her computer on. She looked out the window when she heard a knock on her door.
Her assistant opened it and held an envelope, “Excuse me, Governor. This was hand delivered this morning.” she said, walking closer to Joan.
Joan took the envelope from her, “Thank you.” she said, smiling a little.
She turned the envelope to look at the front:
Governor Joan Ferguson
Wentworth Correctional Centre
She looked in the corner of the envelope:
She smiled at the sight of your pretty handwriting. She used her letter opener and opened the envelope, careful not to tear it completely.
She took out the sheet of paper and unfolded it. Her eyes scanned the paper, typed, not handwritten.
Dear Governor Ferguson,
It's me! Your favorite inmate ;)
I write this letter to let you know how I’m coping on the outside. Freedom is good. Amazing, really. I do, however, miss your order and ways of discipline to make sure my behavior was corrected . I think about you every day, “What is the mighty Joan Ferguson doing right now?” I ask myself. I hope you're thinking about me. :)
When I was in Wentworth and you first came in, I was flooded with lust. Every time I saw you, I felt a heat begin to pool in between my thighs. I could only imagine your face between them. I’m clutching onto your jacket, my hands exploring your body hovered over me. Your fingers inside of my very body, making me feel a pleasure I’ve never felt before. I dreamed you came to me in the slot, to give me a punishment for being put in there in the first place. Oh, the things I would let you do to me.
But of course, I was an inmate, and you are the Governor. So that would be wrong.
If you change your mind, here's my mobile number. Feel free to call or text me anytime.
Followed by your signature and red lip marks next to it to show you kissed the paper in bright red lipstick.
Joan brushed her finger over it lightly, and moved that same hand down to her thigh. She looked to the window at her assistant to make sure she wasn't looking and then back at your words.
She inched closer to her crotch, pushing her hand between her thighs that she had together so tight. Her mouth opened slightly as her breathing became unsteady.
“Sierra Five to the Governor, your assistance is required in Unit H5.” she heard, making her pull her hand away quickly.
She growled and grabbed her radio, “This is the Governor, I’m on my way.” she said.
She folded your letter, put it in the envelope and put in her cabinet and grabbed her cell phone.
She entered your mobile number and clicked ‘text’:
Drinks at your place?
xx The Governor