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“Do you really have to go?” I whispered in his ear.
He smiled sadly. “Yes,” he said simply.
As soon as he got into my house and put down his bags, he knelt in front of me.
“Are you going to do whatever I tell you to, slut?” I asked.
Going through this ritual, stroking the velvet of his collar and then putting it on him for the first time in so long, I actually breathed a sigh of relief. The simple act of locking him up and claiming him felt like a release for something heavy inside me.
Pushing my hands ungently through his hair, pulling it slightly, I purred, “This is where you belong. On your knees, locked up for me.”
I stayed like that for a moment, but eventually I couldn’t resist standing up all the way and stepping over him. My long skirt was just black lace, and I deliberately surrounded him with it. He looked like he’d been completely veiled by me, and under my skirt, he began kissing the inside of my legs, his hands running up and down them. It felt so good that I actually giggled because it was hard to keep my balance. When his soft lips reached the place where my underwear met my thigh, he pulled away long enough to ask, “Please can I lick your pussy, mistress?”
The mere fact of him asking turned me on even more than the feel of his ardent lips and hands. “Yes,” I gasped, my voice catching.
He pulled my underwear aside, and gently started licking my labia. By the time he moved to my clit, I really couldn’t keep standing any more. Reluctantly, I stepped away from him, then pulled up on his hair to force him to stand up.
For the first time since he knelt before me, I looked directly at his face. His eyes were glazed, as though he simply got lost in the folds of my skirt – – or me. I found that look impossibly arousing, and in it a confirmation that he really would do whatever I said. I felt the heat rising in my face as I absorbed that look, and he whimpered slightly as I leaned in to bite his bottom lip, not kissing him. His lip tasted like it belonged to me, and not just because it tasted a little bit like my pussy. The softness of it between my hard teeth was such a delicious contrast that I wanted to hold onto it until it bruised.
But I didn’t, because his mouth was too pretty and useful to wreck.
He sat up in bed, automatically bending his head forward. Without being asked, I took off the earring I was wearing with the key to his lock, and knelt behind him to unlock the lock holding the collar around his neck.
In movies, the click of a lock opening like that symbolizes joy and freedom, usually from arrest or capture. But in bed, that tiny metallic click is an awful sound, like a door closing as someone you love leaves. The magic has ended; the lights have come up at the end of the play. This time, you’re left with dirty sheets to change, a trashcan full of condoms to empty, and a handful of velvet memories.
I held his collar in my hands as he turned his head to me, kissed me gently, then got out of bed.
I hooked my finger into the loop on his collar and dragged him (oh so willingly) up to my bedroom. I left him standing in front of me, while I lounged across my bed, still fully dressed in very little.
“Take off your clothes, slut,” I said archly.
He wasn’t wearing anything a stripper would wear, and he didn’t make a production out of it, but I didn’t want him to. He just pulled his t-shirt over his head, and then started unzipping his jeans, revealing his dick pressing insistently against his underwear. Then he took his underwear off too, leaving him wearing nothing but an impressive erection.
“You look like food,” I told him, crooking my finger to beckon him closer. Still seated, I leaned forward to close my mouth around his dick, which was almost too big to swallow. Almost. Biting down hard at the base of it, I dug my fingernails into his balls, hearing him gasp and watching him struggle to stay upright. Still holding his balls, coming up for air, I asked, “How much do you think you can take, slut?”
“Whatever you tell me to, mistress.”
“That’s a very good answer, pretty,” I said, relinquishing his balls, and gently lapping at the head of his dick with my tongue. And then I pulled a truly awful contraption out from under my bed and held it up for him to see. “Even this?”
He gulped visibly, but nodded.
“I won’t do it unless you ask for it, slut,” I said, dragging one of my fingernails along his dick.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “Please lock up my cock, mistress.”
I grinned. “Well, since you asked so nicely! I mean, I think this is technically a chastity cage, but you’re just not that kind of slut, are you?”
He shook his head nervously, and then I put a metal ring full of awful spikes around the base of his dick and locked it in place with an absurdly incongruous heart-shaped lock.
“You’re the kind of masochist who thinks this is a cock ring, aren’t you?” I mocked. “You’re still totally hard.” He whimpered again. “What do you want, slut?” I teased, licking the head of his dick again.
“Please can I fuck you, mistress?” he begged, sounding a little bit frantic.
“With that on?” I laughed. “Don’t you think that will just make it hurt worse?”
“Yes, mistress,” he said, his voice redolent with obedience and desire.
“Fine, but if you can’t make me come with it on, I won’t let you come until tomorrow.”
He groaned, but stood still while I put a condom on him, and then laid down on top of me.
“You can take off my underwear,” I said generously, wondering even as I said it how the fabric of it pushing against his dick would have made his predicament even worse.
As he stood up, I tried to enjoy the sight of his naked, slightly sweaty, just-fucked body, but all I could think was, I have no idea when I’ll see this again. Until a minute ago, I forced myself to live in the moment for days, enjoying everything about his body touching me right now and never letting myself think for more than a fleeting second about the fact that he would, inevitably, have to go eventually.
That’s a lie. I did think about it for more than a second, but every time I did, I comforted myself with the fiction that he’d be back before I knew it.
“You look nervous,” I mocked, taking hold of his dick with my hand to position it between my legs. He gasped. “Aw, does that hurt?” I teased.
“Everything hurts,” he choked out.
“I’m sure that will just make you want to come harder,” I taunted. “Don’t worry, this will make it better,” I cooed, lifting my hips up to force his dick inside me, then intentionally clenching my pussy around it.
He screamed, and then my pussy clenched without me even trying, just because I was so turned on from the sounds of his pain. I wrapped my legs around his back, hooking my ankles together to force him to stay inside me.
“You begged to fuck me, slut,” I hissed. “So do it.”
“Yes, mistress,” he gasped. I unhooked my ankles, and he lifted himself up more to gain more leverage. Biting his lip in pain, he slowly started moving inside me. Every time I pulsed my pussy around his dick, he gasped, which was incredibly satisfying.
“Please can I come, mistress?” he begged.
“No, but by all means keep asking,” I said, making no serious attempts to come myself just to draw out his torment. “And pull your dick all the way out and come back in.” Looking defeated, he did exactly that, which caused both of us to gasp simultaneously–me with pleasure, and him with agony.
“Please can I come, mistress?” he pleaded again.
“No,” I said, pulling my pussy off of him this time.
“Thank you, mistress,” he panted in relief, sweating from the effort of pleasing me and trying not to come.
“Are you thanking me for not letting you come?”
“Hm, I thought so.” I grabbed hold of his dick again, causing him to gasp, and forced it back inside me. This time I reached down to touch my clit while he fucked me, and the look on his face was positively desperate.
“Do you want me to come, slut?”
“Even though you know it will make my pussy clench around you so much harder and make it almost impossible for you not to come?”
Gasping, my pussy shuddered around his dick as I came, and he actually screamed, which only made me come harder.
“You’re a good slut,” I panted, stuffing my fingers into his mouth to suck my cum off, his dick still inside me, albeit no longer moving.
I should get dressed, I thought. What the fuck am I going to do in this bed once he leaves except morosely caress the cum stains on the sheets and try not to cry from how empty it feels?
How do I look if I beg him to stay? I wondered. Pathetic, sweet, or cute? I care too much about my dignity to tell him how much I don’t want him to go, but even to me, that pride seems pathetic too.
I’m so used to telling him what to do, but I don’t get to tell him what to do this time. Even a dom can’t order you to stay.
“I think you deserve a reward for making me come with that awful thing on,” I said, pulling my fingers out of his mouth.
“Thank you, mistress.”
He pulled out of me, and I unlocked the lock on his dick, freeing it. There were tiny dents at the base of his dick where the spikes had poked him. I licked them, and he moaned.
“Well, I freed your dick, but now I think I’ll just capture the rest of you,” I grinned.
I put cuffs on his wrists and ankles, then attached them to latches on the bed. Spread eagled and still hard, I thought he looked more like food than ever.
“You know, you ought to look like you’re at my mercy like this, but you look like you want it too much, slut,” I teased. It was true. He looked more like a cat that got the cream than a compromised sub.
He grinned lazily. “I think you knew what you were getting when you threw me into your bed.”
I pounced, sitting on top of his chest, and pulled my excuse for a dress off over my head. Then I grabbed his balls with one hand and choked his throat above his collar with the other. “My own fucking slut?” He nodded as best he could while I choked him. “Yes, I was well aware.” He actually looked a little bit disappointed when I stopped choking him, although his eyes were much more glazed with my hand still clutching his balls. I looked down at him. “You’re a whore who’s dying to have me fill your ass, aren’t you?”
I moved back a little bit so that I could sit on the bed and extend my leg enough to put my toes in his mouth. “Do you want me to fuck your ass with my foot, slut?”
He cringed a little bit as he stopped sucking my toes long enough to admit, “Yes, mistress.”
“Don’t worry too much,” I mockingly assured him. “I’ll start with my hand.”
As I stared at him fully dressed in front of me, I couldn’t help but notice the ironic reversal of convention: a naked dom, sitting in bed, with a fully clothed sub standing in front of her. But that moment of irony was quickly overtaken by the conventional fears and doubts of every nervous dom ever: wondering if he’d ever be back, terrified that this time I’d pushed him too far, never quite believing him when he said he loves the terrible things I do to him.
If he doesn’t come back, it’s my fault, the awful voices in my head whispered.
Tell me again that it’s okay, that you’re okay, I want to beg. But you can only ask so many times.
I’ve never felt as vulnerable and exposed as I do when I’m controlling him.
I grabbed two sets of nipple clamps with chains, and attached a clamp to each of his nipples, then to my own, chaining us together. This wasn’t remotely fair, since my nipples were several times the size of his, so the clamps hurt me a lot less. But fair was hardly the point, of course. The point was that I like having my nipples pinched, and that whenever I moved too far away from him, I’d make him scream. I gave them an experimental tug, just to make sure they’d stay on, and his instant moan of pain was a good clue that I had the right idea.
I put a glove on and, feeling kind, lubed up my whole hand. I pushed two fingers in his ass relatively gently, and he looked incredibly happy.
“You’re such an ass slut,” I teased, wriggling my fingers inside him and watching how his dick reflexively twitched in response. I could see the desperate look in his eyes from wanting to touch his cock, but of course, his hands were pinned to the bed. He bit his lip, and I waited for him to ask, still moving my fingers inside him.
“Please will you touch my cock, mistress?”
“Sure,” I said, digging all five fingernails from my other hand into his cock. He screamed, and I intentionally jerked my body back too, pulling on the nipple chains between us, which made him scream even louder and me gasp. “You might want to be more specific if there’s something particular you want,” I warned cheerfully.
His voice sounded a bit choked as he pleaded, “Will you please be nice to my cock, mistress?”
“Probably not.” Instead I added another finger to the two already in his ass, and watched with delight as his hips bucked (clearly wishing he could fuck me too) and his entire face contorted in pained desire.
“Try begging,” I suggested.
“Please will you touch my cock, mistress? Please?”
“You still just don’t sound quite frantic enough.”
He looked like he was going to bite his lip off in desperation.
“How’s this?” I suggested, adding another finger to his ass and enjoying his writhing scream as I did. “I’ll touch your dick if you promise to lick my toes after I put them in your ass if you ask me to stop.”
He groaned, looking trapped and disgusted and aroused all at once. “Yes, mistress,” he said in a small voice.
“You’re such an ass slut that you’ll agree to just about anything to keep me fucking you, won’t you?”
“Yes, mistress,” he said meekly.
I started sucking his cock, my fist still in his ass, but I barely lasted a minute before he looked and sounded frantic. “Please stop, mistress, you’ll make me come!”
I took my mouth away and gently stroked his dick with my other hand, but even with that he instinctively shook both his head and one of his pinned hands. “Please!” he begged. I laughed.
“You spent so much time asking me to touch your dick, and now you’re begging me to stop. You really can’t make up your mind, can you, whore?”
He just whimpered.
“Well, I think now is a great time to switch to my foot,” I said, pulling my hand out slowly, taking my glove and the nipple clamps on me off, and putting my toes briefly in his mouth to suck on again. I fucking loved the way his tongue and lips felt on them, and I could almost come from the sensation. But instead of sinking into the feeling, I pulled my toes out and added some lube to them. Then I put two toes in his ass.
His ass was already very open from having had most of my hand in it, and my absurdly sensitive toes reveled in the warm, wet, tightness of him. I got another toe in easily, and then started stroking his dick with my other foot. I really didn’t expect that to do much, but he started moaning in a way that strongly suggested it was, and his ass clenched around my toes as well. I managed to contort my foot until I had all five toes inside him, and at that point he screamed and begged, “Please can I come, mistress?”
“Yes,” I said easily, which should have been his warning that doing so might not really be in his best interest. But I was far too intrigued by the prospect of making him come with just my feet to say no anyway. His ass twitched around my toes as he came, while splatters of his cum ended up between the toes on the other foot. I pulled my foot gently out of his ass, then rubbed the other foot in the puddle of cum on his stomach before sticking those toes in his mouth.
“Clean up your mess, you dirty slut, and be very grateful I didn’t push you into having to clean up the other foot,” I ordered. I pulled the nipple clamps off his nipples, making him scream, but then he diligently started cleaning his cum off my toes while I laid back and played with my clit. His mouth felt so good on my toes that it didn’t take much for me to come, and I felt my toes twitching in his mouth in an echo of the way his ass had just twitched on my other foot.
I pulled my toes out of his mouth, and then I put another glove on my hand and lubed it up.
“Fuck,” he said, and I just grinned wickedly at him as I pushed two fingers back into his overfucked ass.
His dick was only half hard, and his whole body jerked as I mercilessly found his prostate and stroked it. I was sure that if he wasn’t tied down, he would have tried to curl his body into a protective ball. Instead, he laid helplessly spread open, while he screamed, his head rocking from side to side in a silent “no.”
“You loved this just a minute ago,” I teased.
“It feels completely different after I come,” he managed to say, although it was clear that he was having a lot of trouble talking through the pain.
“I know. Poor slut, tortured by your own pleasures.”
“This… Isn’t… Pleasure…”
“Fair. Tortured by my pleasures then.” I watched him writhe some more, and then generously promised, “I’ll stop whenever you ask.” I loved adding a whole other layer to his torment: an explicit challenge to see what he could take from me.
His face was absolutely contorted in agony, and he didn’t last much longer before he just said, “Please.” I knew he didn’t want to actually ask me to stop.
“Please what?” I asked innocently.
“Please,” he said more insistently.
“Please you want to come?” I teased.
His voice was thick with pain and something close to shame as he begged, “Please stop.”
“Ooookay,” I said, pulling my fingers out of him with an evil wink.
I could deal with him walking out my door so much more easily if he was just taking himself.
You always give a piece of yourself away when you let someone in too deep. But I knew, with an ache that permeated my entire body, that I’d given him too much. From the first moment I ever pulled him up off his knees and into my bed, I foolishly gave him my desires. Anonymous fantasies I’d had for years now had a face, voice, smell, and taste: his.
Getting exactly what you want is a dangerous thing.
Now when he leaves, he won’t just be taking himself. He’ll be taking my fantasies with him.
I gave him a minute to clean himself up alone before pushing him into the shower with me. “Such a dirty whore,” I mocked. I gently soaped his entire body, then rinsed it with the shower head, careful to try to keep his collar dry. When I was done, I told him, “You got them dirty, so wash my feet.” He bent down to do so, and by the time my toes were clean when he stood back up, he was already a little bit hard.
I pushed him against the wall at the back of the shower and kissed him for the first time since he’d arrived. I loved the feel of his soft lips against mine, but even as I enjoyed the physical sensation, I was still distracted by the ever present electric current of power between us. “You belong to me,” I whispered in his ear, taking his now completely hard cock into my hand.
“Yes, mistress.” I kissed him again, but now it felt a little bit violent, my tongue playing with his as if it sought to win a game.
A game that was long since won.
I hastily pulled him out of the shower by his dick, got us both dried off, and dragged him back to my bed. We curled up naked around each other, kissing each other’s mouths and necks, our hands frantically moving all over each other’s bodies at the same time. I tilted my head so he could suck my ear, then felt my body quivering as he trailed kisses down from my ear, over my neck, all the way down to my nipple. My nipple was so sore from the clamps earlier that his tongue on it almost made me come.
His dick kept brushing against my thigh, trailing against the outside of my labia, and all I could think about was how much I wanted it inside me. But even though I felt a little bit drunk with desire, I still wanted to hear him ask for it even more than I wanted the thing itself.
I grabbed hold of the loop on his collar and pulled his face to mine, our lips almost touching. “Ask for it, slut,” I told him.
“Please can I fuck you, mistress? Please can I make you come?”
“Yes,” I said, and fucking meant it. I let myself come almost as soon as his dick was inside me, and I kept coming over and over until finally my pussy was so exhausted that I just told him to come with me one last time.
He collapsed beside me in contented exhaustion, his head resting on my chest. “You are the prettiest fucking toy,” I murmured into his hair, damp from the shower and from sweat.
“Thank you, mistress,” he said, his lips moving against my neck. “I’m yours.”
Lifting his face to me by the ring on his collar, I kissed him emphatically and said, “You are mine. Don’t you fucking forget it.”
“When will I see you again?” I finally forced myself to ask as he left.
“Soon,” he promised, blowing me a kiss.
It’s never soon enough.
One of the pernicious mainstream heteronormative cultural assumptions that the kink subculture can’t seem to let go of either is the idea that penetrating = being in control and penetrated = out of control. In an effort to fight this obnoxious notion, I’m encouraging pornographers and erotica writers out there to come up with sexy tales of being penetrated (any gender) and being in control. Please feel free to link to any good ones you know or wrote yourself at the end of this post. Then I figured, hell, if I write my own story, I can contribute to the process and I can plant a seed in some sexy young man’s mind and make him want to do these things to me. And so…
“Please, Mistress, may I worship your pussy with my mouth?”
“After you’ve made me cum twice with your cock.” You look so pleased by the idea, and I love how I can reward you by cumming on your face. I grab your hardening cock in my hand and look you straight in the eye. “I want to use your entire body.”
You close your eyes as a shudder runs through your body, your cock suddenly much harder. “Your pleasure is my pleasure, Mistress.”
“It is my pleasure for you to fuck me and make me cum as hard as you possibly can.”
I lay on my back, and obediently, you move between my legs, your cock poised teasingly between the outer lips of my pussy the way I like. “May I enter you, Mistress?”
“You don’t need to ask when I’ve already told you to fuck me.” But I enjoy the way you relax when I tell you that you can, and I know there’s a part of you that likes asking, and loves hearing me give you permission.
You shove your cock into me the way I like, and I gasp with pleasure. I writhe against you, enjoying the warm feel of your body above me and the way you fill me. But I love the sensation of you shoving into me more than anything, as you well know. “Pull all the way out and come back in,” I order. You do so, and I enjoy the look of deprivation on your face that not being inside me momentarily causes you. Then I arch my back in delight pleasure as you push your way back inside me. “Again.” I tell you. “Again.” “Again.” Until finally, the fifth time you enter me, I cum around you, clutching your cock with my pussy.
I sit up, shoving you onto your back as I do, so I can ride you astride. Then I deliberately turn myself around, never pulling myself off of you. Ever so slowly, I bend onto all fours, reaching back behind me at an improbable angle to pull your chest towards me by the nipples. “Get on your knees,” I instruct. “And don’t pull out of me.” Very carefully, you re-arrange yourself so that you can fuck me from behind. Your cock is very large for this, and I pant as you begin banging into my g-spot.
“Please cum for me, Mistress,” you beg, as my panting becomes more like screams. As I moan “yes,” you reach around me to play with my clit, fucking me and rubbing me at the same time. The sensation is agonizing and intense, and I cum on your hand and your cock simultaneously, feeling the orgasm wrack my entire body.
Panting, I roll onto my back and smile up at you. “You’ve worked very hard,” I tell you. “Now you can worship my pussy with your mouth and lick up all that cum. Show me how delicious I taste.” Looking like a cat that got the cream, you bend your face down to my pussy, staring up at me worshipfully as you grind your own crotch into the bed, looking on the verge of cumming yourself. So sensitive and swollen from being fucked, it takes only a few moments of you licking and sucking me before I begin convulsing against your face. You gasp and moan into my pussy, still looking like you might cum with me. But I know you’ll only cum if I order you to, and so I simply enjoy the sight of you, looking slightly tortured, and literally writhing in desire.
You keep licking me, my hand grasping your hair to hold you in place as my hips tremble, and one orgasm melts into another, and another until I feel light-headed from the rolling sensation of cumming on your greedy lips for so long. The feeling subsides somewhat, and when I have my breath back, I tell you, “The next time I’m close to cumming, enter me. I’ll tell you when.”
I see you reach down to stroke your cock, making sure that it is hard enough to satisfy me at the right moment. I let you build up sensation in me again, letting it mellow, plateau, build, plateau, and finally begin to peak. “Now!”
Without hesitation, you thrust all the way inside me, and my body convulses in confused pleasure as the sensation changes abruptly, creating a totally different orgasm. I scream in delight, and I see your face become almost tortured with desire as my pussy squeezes your cock.
“Please, Mistress, may I cum?” you plead.
“Not yet. I want to torture you.” You bite your lower lip, and I can see that this is becoming difficult for you. Your dilemma arouses me, even as you are forced to fuck me more slowly in order to follow my command. Although you stay above me, I begin doing more of the work, wriggling my pussy up and down your cock as I savor the way you gasp helplessly every time I clench around you. “Please, Mistress…” you moan.
“No,” I say cruelly, and denying you is arousing enough to push me over the edge into cumming again myself, as I rub my clit, while your cock moves gently inside me. You are almost crying now with the effort it takes you to stay hard and not cum as I do.
“Please, Mistress, may I cum?” you plead.
“No,” I manage to respond coolly, pushing you off of me, and trying not to miss the feel of you inside me too much as your dick also slides out of my pussy. I push you onto your back and sit astride you, your cock positioned tantalizingly in front of my pussy lips. You whimper, and I chuckle. Ever so gently and ever so slowly, I graze the soft outer lips of my pussy along your dick, sliding up and down. Your hips instinctively move so that the tip of your cock is thrust inside me, but I quickly move away from it and slap your chest.
“Naughty!” I exclaim, grabbing the back of your hair, and moving myself so my whole weight is on top of you, and my face is directly in front of your face. “You only get back in when I tell you.”
I tease my tongue on your cock, not really sucking it, so much as feathering it with the lightest of wet sensations. I enjoy tasting myself on you, and you groan in what looks like agony. I run the tips of my fingers along it, then trace the same lines with the outside of my pussy again. Your entire body actually quivers underneath me as I tease you. I do this all again, and finally, relishing the way your hands dig into the mattress, clutching it as if for assistance in coping with this torment.
“Please make me cum, Mistress!”
“How shall I make you cum?”
Your voice is choked and gasping. “However you like.”
“Tell me how much you love my pussy, and I’ll let you fuck it.”
This is entirely for my own amusement. You can barely put three words together. “I live to… please you. I eat your… orgasms… I dream about… About worshipping your pussy… With my whole body…” But you can’t finish as you groan while I tease your cock mercilessly with my pussy lips. Sitting just above you, I say simply:
You don’t sound like you’re speaking in sentences anymore, just a repeated jumble of words moaning, “Please let me fuck you please let me make you cum please let me inside you please let me show you how much I love your cunt—“ until I abruptly slide all the way down your cock. You gasp, instinctively moving your hips up to meet me, pushing deeper inside me. Without separating us, I roll you on top of me. You look almost afraid as you fuck me, and I can feel the desire you have to be totally pulled inside me, and the way you fear it too.
“Please, Mistress, may I cum?” You plead.
“Will you promise to fuck me again in less than an hour?”
“Then you can cum the next time I do.”
I feel your body both relax with relief and tense with need. I actually feel your cock get larger inside me, straining with desperation. There is a vein in it that throbs as you get closer to cumming. I spread my legs further so that you are so deep inside me that it hurts, and clench my pussy around you to make you harder. You pant and sound so utterly desperate as you beg, “Please cum for me, Mistress. Please.”
I laugh. “Just so you can cum?”
“No, so I can feel myself pleasing you when I do.”
“You are a very good boy. Fuck me harder.” You obey, and I reach down to touch my clit, deliberately stroking the base of your cock in between thrusts, feeling how wet you are with me. I clench my pussy around you and revel in your gasp from the sensation, enjoying as always the look of surprise on your face from the feeling, and pleased by the sight of the sweat pooling at your brow as you work so hard to please us both.
I feel your entire body becoming focused on mine, lining up every thrust to the quivering of my hips. I consider counting down for you, but I know I don’t need to, because your oversensitive cock will know the moment I cum. You fuck me harder and then automatically slow down just as I’m climaxing, knowing it will make me cum harder. As my hips arch, I feel you surrender helplessly to my pleasure, cumming uncontrollably because I am.
Your whole body collapses on top of me, but your obedient cock stays in me as my pussy continues to tremble with the aftershocks of orgasm. “Don’t you dare slide out of me,” I whisper fiercely into your ear, licking it gently for emphasis. You moan.
As the aftershocks start to subside, I begin deliberately squeezing my pussy lips around your softening cock. The feeling occasionally causes me to aftershock again, trembling underneath you in slight orgasm. The combination is too much for you, and I feel your dick hardening inside me again. You groan in what I know is a cross between pain and pleasure, and you rise onto your arms again, yielding to the instinctive desire to begin moving your dick inside me.
I reach up and pinch your nipple hard. “You didn’t ask permission to fuck me again.”
You look at me with mock innocence. “But Mistress, I never stopped.” You bend your face down to kiss me, and the feel of your lips on mine, and your tongue deliberately sliding into my mouth as your cock slides in and out of my pussy is more than merely mollifying. You continue kissing my neck, my shoulders, and licking my nipples, while my over-fucked pussy remains just on the edge of climaxing.
“You can cum whenever you want,” I offer, pretending to be generous. “As long as you clean me up very thoroughly afterwards.”
“Mistress, you know that I can’t cum without you.” It is the correct response. I smile, stroking your cheek, kissing your lips, and deliberately clenching my pussy around your cock in praise.
I chuckle. “I know. You are very well trained.” Even when I suck your cock, I have trained you not to cum unless I am. I re-position myself so that my ankles are against your shoulders, and your cock is excruciatingly deep inside me. I gasp with every thrust, opening my eyes and looking straight into yours to tell you, “You are such a good boy. Now cum for me.”
You know this cue. You know that sometimes I cum harder when I feel the helpless thrusting of your cock inside me, and obediently, you fuck me as I scream with orgasm. I actually feel your cock throbbing inside me as I cum, still surprised that it somehow got harder.
“Please Mistress, may I pull out?” you ask in abject exhaustion.
“Well, you were very good,” I say, gently rolling myself out from under you. I see the look of disappointment in your tired face as you pull out of me. And almost without thinking, I grab your hand and position it just over my clit. “Beg,” I hiss.
Suddenly alert again, you obey. “Please Mistress, may I please you some more?” I slide your fingers inside me, clenching my pussy instinctively around them, and feeling your cum run out of me and onto them as I do.
“Why yes, yes you may,” I say, cumming all over again.