by Stasia Black
I move my right hand a little further north so that my thumb just brushes the outside of his sack. With the little bit of slack he has in the restraints, he tries to press into my hand. I laugh and withdraw completely.
He swears and presses his head hard back into the leather table, arm muscles flexing against his restraints. The chains rattle against the frame and the noise makes me rub my legs together in pleasure. He’s turning out to be even more of a caged beast than I imagined. I make eye contact and lick my lips. He swears again and then closes his eyes while he visibly tries to calm his breathing.
I turn on my heel and pretend to ignore him while I head to the wall. The implements seem to be arranged in order of impact. From left to right, there are a variety of paddles and floggers with just a few whips in the very furthest corner.
But right in front of me are all kinds of interesting items. I pick up two brushes. At first they just look like hair brushes, but when I run my fingers over the bristles, I notice that they have different textures, one soft and the other rougher. Interesting.
There’s a small cabinet as well and I open it. I find even more fascinating little trinkets on the shelf. Nipple clamps of various sizes with different jewelry and weights attached to them. Several kinds of lubricant. Dildos of all shapes and sizes too, still in packaging. My attention peaks at those. But maybe not for tonight. In the corner sits a fat red candle and a box of matches. Oh.
I read about this earlier today. Hot candle wax. It seemed like something that even beginners couldn’t screw up. I grab the candle, the matches, and a little pizza cutter looking device that has blunt metal nubs notched along the rolling circle. I read about this too. Like the brushes, it’s meant for sensation play.
And sensation is what I’m after with Jackson tonight. I want to make him insane with sensation so that he’s strung tight with desire. He thinks he’ll bow to any of my wishes now, but I’m going to bring him to the point of begging, no, weeping, to serve me.
When I return to him, his cock has flagged only slightly. I put my hands on his stomach and slide them down to his hip again, framing his dick on either side.
I lean over and blow hot air right across the tip. It jerks to life, bobbing half an inch away from my lips. I pull away and slap it lightly with my palm.
“Don’t be greedy,” I chastise. “You’ll get what you get when I determine you’re ready.”
With that, I start running the soft brush down his chest. He looks confused for a moment and then his eyes slide closed. He relaxes into it.
I brush all the way down his chest and to one thigh. I imagine he thinks I’ll move to the next, so I change it up and run the soft bristles down his pulsing shaft. He lets out a groan and his eyes pop open again. They shift down to observe my movement. I brush his cock up from underneath, then back down again.
I lock eyes with his and then bring my mouth right beside his pulsing member. I’m just going to breathe on it again to tease him but when I get close, I’m shocked by my own desire. The rounded mushroom head is so… pretty. Jackson Vale would die if I described his cock to him that way, but it is.
My pussy contracts and my mouth waters as I watch the way it jolts under the ministrations of my brush. I glance up to his face and he’s so focused on what I’m doing. Utterly enthralled.
My tongue flicks out and I lick the thick vein that runs the length underneath the shaft. Jackson’s entire body trembles and a muted groan comes from his throat.
I pull back and stare at his dick with trepidation. I can’t believe I just— I didn’t think I’d ever be able to—
Memories rush up. The last time I saw one of these up close, it was being shoved at me. I said no and my rapist forced it on me anyway. Revulsion shudders through me and I move several more inches back.
I can feel Jackson’s eyes on me. I don’t look up. I don’t want to know if he’s noticed something change in my demeanor or if his gaze is full of demand that I get back to attending to his cock. Neither would be acceptable.
So I keep my eyes averted while I pick up the second brush with firmer bristles and resume brushing down his legs. I can feel the slight scrape against the skin the brush provides and I smooth my other hand down the flesh after upbraiding it with the comb.
But my mind isn’t on the sensations I’m providing. It’s back on the bastard who stole so much for me. Who tried to break me. Am I really going to let him steal this aspect of sex play from me forever? It’s part of why I got back on the horse, so to speak, this summer. I wanted to prove to myself that Gentry hadn’t totally jacked me up. I could still have sex and enjoy it. He hadn’t stolen anything from me. I was so determined to prove it.
And now, what? I’ll never be able to give oral again? Because of what that fucking bastard did to me? Jackson’s entire body jerks as I run the bristles along the bottom of his feet.
“Does it hurt?” He hasn’t reacted so violently to anything I’ve done so far except the first time I grabbed his cock.
“Tickles,” he manages through gritted teeth.
I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. I run the brush across the sole of his other foot and he twists in his restraints just as much as with the first foot. God, I guess I am a sadist. I take pity on him after that, but I’m still chuckling.
And that’s when it hits me. I feel safe with Jackson. If there’s anyone to try it with, it’s him. Especially while I have him completely immobilized like this. It won’t be anything like it was with Gentry. No one will be holding my head and forcing anything on me. Here, I’m in control. I suck in a quick breath. Shit. Am I really going to do this?
I look around the room and my eyes zero in on the chocolate soufflé cups that I abandoned on a side table when I first entered the room. Oh yeah. I smile and I quickly retrieve them, adding to my little collection on the ground near the candle and brushes. I lift up the soufflé and run it underneath Jackson’s nose.
“I have a test for you,” I say in a low, sultry voice.
Jackson looks wary. “What is it?”
I use the spoon and put a dollop of soufflé over one of his nipples. Then, leaning over so that he has full view of my over-ample cleavage, I lick and then suckle it all off.
The chocolate flavor explodes on my tongue, but even more pleasurable than the flavor is Jackson’s response. His pupils dilate even wider, his nostrils flare and the chest underneath my mouth moves up and down like he’s running a marathon. I give the nipple one last teasing bite and then lift up.
“You see, I’m hungry for dessert.” I give a coy smile. “And I’m happy to make it an enjoyable experience for you as well. I take the spoon and land another dollop right on the tip of his long, throbbing dick. His eyes flare and I lick my lips.
“But,” I hold up a finger and give him a severe look. “The slave only gets the treat of his Mistress’ mouth if he does not move a muscle. There will be no shoving, no thrusting, no movement of any kind. Am I understood?”
He nods.
I glare at him. “Am I understood?”
“Yes, Mistress.” His voice comes out thick and I smile in gratification.
Now let’s see if he can hold up to his end of the bargain. I lean over and put my mouth over the entire head of his dick. The flavor of the chocolate mousse again hits my senses, but as I suck it away, I began to taste something else.
Jackson. His shaft is thick and pulsing in my mouth. I suck him in far enough so that my lips close right over the fat ridge of his head. As I lick the last of the soufflé way, it mixes with his essence, a little bit of pre-cum that has leaked out from how excited I’ve gotten him even though I barely touched him so far. Just the thought has me sucking even harder.
I bob my head up and down once, making sure to give good suction especially as my lips close over the ridge again. I don’t miss Jackson’s low, ecstatic groan. Or the way his cock twitches in my mouth and seems to grow even more.
But he’s a good boy and he doesn’t thrust
his hips at all. He doesn’t shove himself down my throat. The chocolate flavor, Jackson’s scent, and even the smell of the oiled leather from the table are enough to separate this moment from the other so that no flashbacks are popping up.
Thank you God, thank you God, thank you God. I reach over for the cup of mousse and lather him up and down with the sugary treat again. Then I get to enjoying my dessert.
I’m tentative at first about how far I take him in my mouth, but when he continues lying there like a good little slave, I venture sucking more and more of him in.
Christ, I never realized how hot giving a BJ could be before. He’s trembling underneath me. When I glance up, his heated stare is enough to send volcanic fire shooting straight to my core. The desperation, the need on his face… My fingers bite into the leather on either side of his hips and I bob my head even lower until his bulbous head hits the back of my throat.
I apply suction and my cheeks hollow out. Then I lazily bring my mouth back up until I let go with a loud pop. His eyes go wild with lust. I’m about to start humping the edge of the leather table, this is getting me so hot. I lick the slit at the top of his head and then move to take him in again, inch by slow torturous inch.
And then he bucks up into my mouth, thrusting his cock nearly into my throat, not once, but in and out and back in again before I tear myself away from him.
“Motherfucker!” I yell at him and slap his dick.
He looks shocked and it quickly morphs to mortification. “I’m so s— sorry,” he stutters and tries to sit up but is jerked backward by his restraints. “I can’t believe I just— I’m so sorry— I didn’t mean—”
I glare at him. A riot of feelings battle for prominence in my chest. Disappointment, the lingering flash of fear I felt in the moment when his cock was almost choking me and also, strangely, a savage excitement because he’s still locked up and now he deserves whatever punishment I give him.
I turn away from him and stalk over to where a high-backed wooden chair sits on the wall. I drag it over the hardwood floor, enjoying the scrape of the wood on wood as I go. I hope I’m fucking up his floors. I slam it in place right beside his head. I sit down, spread my legs, and hike one calf up over the wooden arm rest of the chair.
“I’m sorry. Callie, shit. I’m—”
“Shut up,” I say, proud when I manage to keep my voice calm. “It’s Mistress to you, and you will not say another word.”
He shuts his mouth even though I can see it’s killing him. Too fucking bad.
I adjust myself slightly as I work my black lace panties over my ass, down past my thighs and over my thigh high boots. I toss them on Jackson’s chest. He watches me with a mix of concern and fear. Good for him, the fucker. Can’t even obey one simple set of instructions.
I slouch further down in the chair and lift my dress so he has a good view of my glistening pussy. All the nicer to touch myself. I’m slick and swollen from the buildup of everything tonight.
Rolling my clit between my fingers makes the surge of excitement race that much higher. Jackson’s eyes are locked on the movement of my hand. I switch to rubbing my clit with my thumb and drive my first two fingers inside myself. I shudder and sink even lower in the chair.
“Oh God, yes,” I moan, rubbing the upper walls of my sex.
“Let me free, I can take care of you. I’ll make up for disappointing you, I swear.” Jackson’s voice is choked with fervency.
My fingers pause their motion and I tilt my head at him. “Oh, you will, will you?” I shoot to my feet. I take the fingers that were just inside myself and rub them over his lips, then jam them in his mouth. He eagerly sucks at my juices, nostrils again flaring.
When I pull my fingers back, his corded neck is taut. “I swear, I’ll make you come harder than you ever have before in your entire life.”
I lean over so that my breath is hot on his ear. “That does sound delectable.” I move to his other ear, letting my hair fall over his chest. “It also sounds like something that only a deserving slave should get the privilege of doing.” I bite his ear, not roughly enough to draw blood, but more than a simple nip.
He hisses in a breath and I pull away. His eyes are full of frustration more than remorse now. He’s definitely not a natural submissive. Which makes me all the more determined to master him.
Before I sit back down, I walk over to the cabinet and retrieve one of the midsized dildos. Then I take a seat and opened my legs wide. I open the top of the box and pull out the flesh-colored plastic cock. “So pretty,” I murmur. I run my hand up and down the length of it, miming jacking it off.
I bite the tip of my tongue as I reach my fingers down and stretch myself a little further. Watching Jackson’s furious eyes and muscles flexed against the restraints makes me squelch. Oh yeah, I’m ready.
“I bet you wish this was your sad, neglected dick.” I hike my leg even higher on the arm of the chair so he has a picture-perfect view as I rub the crown of the lifelike dildo up and down my slit, teasing my clitoris.
“Oh God, that hits the spot,” I moan, tossing my head back. Even from this position, I watch Jackson through slitted eyes. “You tasted how wet I am. I think it’ll go in just fine without any lube, don’t you?”
Jackson grits his teeth.
“I asked you a question, slave,” I snap.
The vein in his forehead pulses. “I’ll apologize a thousand more times, if you just let me—”
I shove the dildo home and let out an unabashed cry of ecstasy. “Oh God, I’m stuffed so full. You can’t even imagine how full I feel.”
When I look back over at Jackson, he’s turned his face away so that he’s looking at the far wall.
“Eyes on me, right now.”
His head doesn’t move and I pull out the dildo, enjoying the wet noises it makes even while I’m pissed as fuck at Jackson.
I move until I’m towering over him, directly in his line of sight. “Do you want to use your safe word and end this scene?” I’m dead serious. I want to make this work but if Jackson simply doesn’t have it in him to submit, then there’s no point to any of this.
A pained look crosses his face. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and then he looks up at me. “No,” his voice is quiet. He sucks in a deep breath. “I don’t want to end it.”
“Then stop being a fucking baby.” Each one of my words is a stab. “You’re a Dom. Would you put up with a sub pulling this shit on you?”
He jolts like I struck him and it finally seems to sink in. “No.” He’s subdued but nods decisively. “I’d spank them till their ass was black and blue for acting like this.” He lets out a breath and drops his eyes. “I’ll submit to whatever punishment you deem necessary.”
I grab his chin and jerk his head up, forcing his gaze to meet mine. “And you’ll obey when I give you a fucking order?”
He swallows but nods, then catches himself and says, “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good. Now that we’ve had this little come-to-Jesus moment,” I climb up on the table so that I’m straddling his chest, dildo in hand, “we can continue. You are to watch what I’m doing. Don’t you dare take your eyes off me. No matter what.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I repeat the teasing ritual I went through earlier with the tip of the dildo before easing it back into my body. It’s even better this time, with Jackson’s hot body between my thighs. I scoot down so I’m straddling the upper part of his waist right below his chest. I’m high enough that there is no contact with his straining cock. I bet he can smell me, though. I smile at the thought. From the pained look on his face as he watches me, I imagine I’m right.
I prop the base of the dildo against his stomach and ride it. I suck in my breath as I grind down on it.
“Ooo, that’s so good,” I groan. “If only you weren’t such a fuck up, this could be you inside me.” With the hand not holding the dildo, I reach up and grab my breast. The ladies are already spilling so far over my bodice, it’s
little effort to pop one out over the top so that my nipple is exposed. I squeeze my plump breast in my hand and then lift it higher so that I can lick the tip of my puckered nipple.
“Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, does that make you hard?” I ask Jackson, rising up and then jamming down again on the fake dick. A glance over my shoulder shows a stream of pre-cum trailing the side of his pulsing shaft.
I look back to his tormented face. “I wonder if you can come just fucking the air like that,” I ponder out loud. “Doesn’t seem like it would be very satisfying,” I lean into the dildo and come back down at an angle so that it rubs my clit just right, letting out another high-pitched satisfied moan.
“But at least,” I manage through gasped breaths, “you won’t be left with blue balls at the end of the night.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he curses.
“Did you say something?”
He shakes his head, but his face is red with strain. Fuck me, he’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. His arms tense and yank against the restraints. I think it’s unconscious, he can’t help trying to break out from being held down like this. It’s not in his nature.
So why is he doing this? It’s obviously more than difficult for him. Every bit of the night has been a strain against his natural inclinations.
“Why are you doing this?” As much as I might want this, I need to understand. “Why did you agree to be my submissive?”
His chest moves up and down underneath my body like a great bellows. He looks a little dazed by my question at first, like he’s been so lost in what we’re doing that human words take a moment to register. “Because… it’s you.”
Nice sentiment, but it doesn’t tell me anything. “You’re a dominant. What’s so special about me that you’d put up with any of this?” I gesture at his hands in the restraints.
He’s quiet but I’m not having any of that. I turn and grab his neglected cock in my fist. His whole body jerks. I pump him up and down and then let go.
