by AE Lister
“Because…because no one’s ever done that before. And I didn’t know if I could keep from…you know…”
“Shooting? Jizzing? Spraying?” I was deliberately goading him. It was so much fun.
“Oh fuck. Yes.”
“Say it, Vincent. Say ‘I didn’t know if I could keep from jizzing all over your desk, Sir.’”
He stared at me, his jeans looking awfully tight. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know if I could keep from jizzing all over your desk, Sir.”
It was so quiet that I could barely hear him.
“I beg your pardon?”
His face flushed and he looked down. “I didn’t know if I could keep from jizzing all over your desk, Sir.” This time he spoke loudly and enunciated each word.
“Yes, I know you struggled with that, but you did just fine. I’ve never done that to a man before. Just you.”
“Really?”
“Lots of women. But you’re the first guy I’ve rimmed.”
We were silent for a few moments. Then he asked hesitantly, “Did you like it, Sir?”
And I was assaulted with the memories of his ass and my tongue and his desperate cries and squirming.
“Yep,” I said, popping the ‘p’.
He smiled shyly. “Yep? All I get is a yep?”
Oh, fuck me, he’s so cute when he’s coy.
“Fine. I fucking loved eating your ass, Vincent. Next time I’m gonna stick some fingers up there while I’m at it,” I said, pretending to be angry but giving him a cheeky grin.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he said, spreading his legs and squirming on my couch cushions. “Oh, fuck.”
“Did Daphne do a lot of ass play with you? I don’t mean spanking. I mean shoving things up there.”
He blanched. “I mean, some. She did some. Objects.”
“What kind of objects, Vincent?” I loved that it was killing him to talk about this. He was so damned embarrassed and it was awesome.
“Uh, dildos. Beads.” He looked down at the ground. Whispered, “Balls.”
“Balls?”
He glanced up shyly. “Big balls.”
I blinked. That minx. “Daphne shoved big balls up your ass?”
“Yep.”
I stared at him, seeing the amusement as well as embarrassment there.
“On a string,” he mumbled, miming with his hands.
“I should hope so. We want to be able to get them out.” I wrote it down.
Likes anal play—big balls on a string.
“And how did those big balls feel in your ass, Vincent?”
His eyes flew open and he coughed. “Good. Pretty good.”
“Pretty good?”
“Okay, great. Really good.”
I jotted that down.
“Excellent. We’re getting somewhere now. I’m getting lots of ideas for next weekend.”
He opened his mouth and a moan came out. It was adorable and sweet and so Vincent.
I spent a few moments jotting down several ideas for the future.
“Can I say something, Sir?”
“Of course.” I looked up over the rims of my readers, and his eyes half closed. I wrote—
Wear glasses.
“Um, I don’t need you to be scary the way Daphne is scary because you’re not. And that’s fine.”
“I can be scarier, Vincent. I can be so much scarier.”
“Oh my God. Okay. Sure.”
“I’m kidding. I mean, I’m not. But I want to know what you mean.”
He leaned forward. “I mean, there’s more here, with you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not exactly attracted to Daphne. I should be, but I’m not. So, she kind of has to scare me or we wouldn’t have any fun.” He paused, licked his lips then met my gaze. “I’m having so much fun with you, Nic. And fear isn’t much of a part of it.”
I didn’t know if anyone had ever said anything so honest to me. “Thank you for sharing that, Vincent.” I wrote something else down then looked up. “Why do you think you should be attracted to Daphne?” I asked, but I knew what he meant. I mean, most people were attracted to Daphne, including me.
He shook his head. “I mean, she’s so beautiful. She could be in a magazine.”
“She has been in a magazine. It’s a fetish mag, but you’re right. She wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of Vogue.”
“Well, maybe not in her slutty Victorian maid costume,” he said.
I laughed. “Yeah, maybe not. Wait! She has a slutty Victorian maid costume?”
“Yeah. She wore it when she caned me one time.”
My lips pursed in sympathy. “What did you think of the cane?”
“Hated it. It hurt way too much. But I liked the humiliation of it.”
I wrote down No canes, which wasn’t really necessary because I didn’t have any. They were a little too severe for me.
“What about paddles? Do you like paddles?” I had no doubt Daphne’d paddled that beautiful ass a few times.
“I like paddles. I mean, it hurts, but I like that kind of pain?”
“Excellent. Rubber, wood, leather?”
“All the above?”
I wrote that down.
“Floggers?”
“Sure. They’re okay.”
“Not your favorite?”
“Kind of boring.”
“Good to know. Did she ever use a crop?”
“No, actually, which is weird.”
“Not weird. Daphne used to ride. She couldn’t wrap her head around using crops on men. People are weird.”
He laughed and shook his head, blushing.
“Yeah, I know it sounds strange coming from the mouth that ate your ass. But still…”
“God, you’re funny.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah. You make things more relaxed. When you want to, at least.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Sometimes you make things very formal and really nerve-racking.”
“Yes. It’s part of my persona. I thought you liked that.”
“I do. But I like the funny part too. I like that you can be relaxed around me.”
I smiled at him. I did find I could relax around him, more so than with Zane. But Zane and I had had a weird dynamic. I was starting to realize just how weird.
“Anyway, what do you think of the idea of a crop—on that fine ass and elsewhere?”
“I think… I think I’d like it a lot.”
“I think you’d like it a lot also. And, lucky you, I own several. We’ll have to find out which is your favorite.”
He gulped. “Yes, please.” And stared at me with wide eyes.
I blinked. “Right now?”
He nodded and repeated, “Yes, please,” in a breathy voice.
I considered this. I didn’t usually let my subs call the shots. Still, I was eager to see what he thought of my various implements. And now I wanted to find out how he’d react to them.
“All right, then. But I want to continue this discussion. I’m sure Daphne did many things to you and I want to know what they were.”
“I mean, I can write it down for you,” he offered.
Actually, that was a great idea. I was a little miffed I hadn’t thought of it.
“That’s a great idea. You can write an essay for me this week. Five pages minimum. Detailed descriptions of what she did and how it made you feel, starting with the most basic to the most extreme.”
He looked at me with astonishment.
I smiled sweetly. “I’m not kidding, Vincent. Due next Saturday.”
I lowered my head and looked over the tops of my glasses, quite deliberately. “You will be graded on composition, grammar and spelling.” I chewed on my pen, thinking. “Anything less than an A gets a punishment of my choosing. A or higher, you get to pick.”
“Okay. Fair.”
He started to look pretty excited and I remembered we were going to look at the crops.
I left the glasses on and stood up. “Come with me.”
Chapter Eight
The majority of my BDSM kit was in the basement, confined to a cabinet in one corner. You would never have guessed what I had hidden away in there because the room looked fairly ordinary. There was a gray laminate floor, a brown leather sofa and matching love seat and an old wing chair I had inherited from my granny.
Poor Granny couldn’t have predicted I’d use her wing chair in my ipso facto ‘dungeon’, but there it was. It worked well because the wings were made of solid hardwood and I could tie a sub’s arms down—or legs if I flipped them.
Of course, Vincent, with all of his experience, found the one not-so-subtle item in the room.
“Is that a spanking bench?” he asked, trying not to sound eager. He totally failed.
“Yes, my lovely boy, that is a spanking bench. Want to try it out?”
“Okay,” he answered, his voice high-pitched.
“Bring it into the middle of the room.”
He dragged it over and stood nervously beside it. I exploited his excitement and anxiety by remaining silent and opening the cabinet.
“Should I take my clothes off?” he asked.
It seemed the shy, hesitant sub from last weekend had found his legs. I smiled to myself. “Yes, Vincent. Please do. Everything.”
I took out some wrist and ankle cuffs and brought them over as Vincent started to disrobe. He pulled the sweater over his head then the T-shirt. Now I was distracted.
I walked over and stood close in front of him. His hands were on his fly but he stopped what he was doing and stared at me, wide-eyed.
“Do you like to have your nipples pinched, Vincent?” I asked, his eyes flitting down to the light brown nubs of flesh on his lightly haired chest.
“Mistress Daphne clamped them sometimes,” he said.
“Did you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Did she ever just pinch them, like this?” I asked, closing my fingers on his left nipple and squeezing.
He shut his eyes and moaned. “No…no.”
“Hmm-m,” I said, pinching his other nipple without letting go of the first.
His mouth opened and he made the most delicious sound.
“Are you hard?”
“Yes.”
“Is this making you harder?” I twisted my fingers, squeezing.
He groaned. “Yes. Fuck. Yes.”
I let go. “Good to know,” I said sweetly and stepped back, pointing to his jeans. “Finish up and sit on the bench.”
He opened his eyes and unfastened his jeans, pushing them and the panties down and stepping out of them. His cock swayed in a most tantalizing way as he moved to sit on the spanking bench. I almost wanted to suck him again.
Instead I walked over and grabbed his erection, stroking him a few times and letting go as he gasped with shock and pleasure.
“I like your cock, Vincent. It’s as eager to please as the rest of you.” I grinned at him and he smiled back, his eyes radiating adoration. It seemed I’d made a good impression. And I hadn’t even brought out the crops. I suddenly remembered my blindfold collection was down here.
“I’m going to blindfold you but no gag this time. I want you to be able to talk.” I walked back to the cabinet and found my little box of blindfolds. The one I’d used on Vincent earlier was just a basic black mask I kept upstairs. I couldn’t help smiling as I fingered through them and selected a dark purple silk mask with fine black lace over top. I had a sudden flashback of Delilah, her dark brown skin under that same mask as her mouth opened in ecstasy.
I took it over and held it up for Vincent to see. “Pretty enough, do you think?”
His gaze stroked over the beautiful fabric. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Sir.” He looked as though he were about to cry. It was hard to believe no one before me had indulged Vincent’s penchant for pretty things.
“You are so welcome, sweetheart,” I said, reaching out and cupping his chin. I rubbed my thumb gently along the curve of his jaw where light stubble had already emerged. My sweet baby had a persistent beard that he liked to remove.
“Do you shave every morning?” I asked, curious.
“Yes, Sir,” he said, almost proudly.
Perhaps Daphne had demanded it?
“Hmm. I might get you to stop.”
His eyes widened but he said nothing.
“I like this roughness, especially when combined with some very feminine accoutrements.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said hesitantly.
“You’d look good with a beard,” I decided.
“Yes, Sir.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “But you don’t want to grow one?”
“No, Sir. Not really.”
“Hmm-m. Well, we’ll see.”
I’d leave it up in the air for now. But I might wish to push this particular soft limit and see if he would grow one for me. I thought he’d look fantastic with a close beard and wearing his lacy undergarments and perhaps some other things I would buy for him.
I put the blindfold on him and buckled it behind his head. Then I made him lie back on the padded bench and proceeded to cuff his wrists and ankles to its legs so he was splayed out like a delicious banquet. I had to make some adjustments to the height of the bench to do that, so it was a bit of a procedure, but eventually I had him in place, looking mighty good with the lacy blindfold on and his dick curving over his belly, his balls tight and full.
I made a clicking sound with my tongue. “Oh, Vincent, what an image you make.”
He blushed and wiggled on the bench. “Thank you, Sir.”
“No, Vincent, thank you.”
He licked his lips and his cock moved. Perfect. He was perfect. I tried to ignore this thought because it wigged me out and I just wanted to have fun with him.
“I’m giving you a different safeword, Vincent. I think your safeword should be ‘piano’. It’s probably easier to remember than ‘latté’. Is that all right?”
“Yes, Sir. I like it.”
“Good. Please feel free to use it. I will never be angry at you or frustrated with you for using your safeword.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Walking back to the cabinet, I collected the five riding crops I currently possessed and walked back to where my submissive lay, captively waiting. “Mmm-m, look at all that pale white skin. I can’t wait to pink you up.”
I put the pile of crops down on the love seat and selected a thick, braided one. It looked hefty and packed a good thwunk and a bit of a sting. It was as good a place to start as any. I realized we didn’t know much about each other and that we might as well try to rectify that today.
“This is the first crop I ever bought,” I said as, instead of striking him with it, I laid it down gently along his middle. I placed the handle by his dick and the tip reached to just below his chin. He inhaled the leather smell as I reached down to tickle his balls. He gasped and wriggled, rocking the crop but not displacing it.
“If that rolls off you I’m going to use it on your balls instead of using my fingers,” I threatened. It was an empty threat because we hadn’t even addressed the idea of cock and ball torture and I’d never go there so soon anyway.
But a little tickle torture? Sure.
I moved my fingers with feather lightness from his balls down his perineum to his sweet hole and back, as he tried not to struggle. He made lovely sounds as I played with his sensitive spots while his cock twitched and bounced from side to side.
I took my hand away and pulled on a black nitrile glove from the box I’d placed nearby, making sure to snap the material noisily so he heard. His lips parted and he lifted his head as if to look, then remembered he couldn’t see and let his head fall back.
“Keep that crop steady,” I reminded him as I went back to the tickling, now with the added tease of the latex glove, which meant I had other things in mind.
He made those soft noises again as I touched him. I tickled down fro
m his balls along his perineum to his hole and back a number of times then stopped to drip some lubricant onto my gloved fingers. When Vincent felt the cold liquid on his perineum, he gasped and pulled at the bindings. The crop almost rolled off but he recovered himself and moaned with frustration.
“What do you want, Vincent? Tell me,” I said softly, rubbing his perineum and spreading lubrication over his hole with the lightest touch.
“Oh God, please, please…”
“Tell me what you want.”
“In me…”
“Pardon?”
“P-put your finger in me.”
“Hmm-m, what if I don’t want to?” I said, tracing around his hole and along his perineum like I could do it for hours—which I should. I really should.
“Oh…God…please…”
“Keep that crop steady and I’ll consider it,” I told him. “But I’m quite happy playing here for now.”
He groaned.
I continued to tease him as he became more and more frustrated. “I’m going to ask you some questions, Vincent, and I want you to answer them honestly. When I’m satisfied, I’ll finger you properly. Okay?”
“Okay. Okay.”
“When Mistress Daphne was shoving balls up your ass, how did it feel?”
“Oh, fuck. It felt good.”
“I realize that, but tell me what about it felt so good?”
He did as he panted his frustration. “I was so fucking full. Stretched open. Stuffed. It felt so good to be stuffed full like that…and so humiliating to have balls up there. Big black ones.”
I almost laughed except his words and sounds were making me pretty horny. I didn’t have any giant anal beads in my collection or I’d have considered using them that moment. There was a shopping trip in my future. Perhaps I’d bring Vincent along. We’d had a good time at the mall the week before.
“Good boy. I can just imagine how it felt to stuff you so full. How it looked. Would you like me to do that sometime?”
He whimpered. “Right now?”
“Not now. I don’t have what I need. But soon. Very soon.”
“Okay. Okay.”
“Am I making you crazy with this teasing?” I said, playing with the swirling dark hairs on his scrotum.
“Yessss. Please…”
“You want my finger inside you?”
