Keeping Him Naked- A CFNM Story

[Dr****]

It was the tone of her voice I remember the most; almost casual, like why should things be any different? It was the same as I heard when, after an evening of attention she finally reclined in her bed and, with only enough space in her bed that I had to balance myself on the thin edge by the wall and hope she didn’t want to stretch out. Unfortunately that was just what she wanted so a handful of minutes after the lights went out I felt her toe poking into my bare thigh. “Floor, now.”

I worried and hoped it wouldn’t come to that. After a long day I was looking forward to a good sleep and the mat at the foot of her bed wasn’t as comfortable as her pillowtop mattress but, no surprise to anyone, I yielded.

Climbing over her I could see the silhouette of her sweatshirt. I doubted she was wearing anything more but at least it was something. I, of course, was naked and I knew she was aware of it. I’m certain she could also see I was still aroused. That’s the consequence of teasing a man for hours after being releasing him from the chastity that held him for weeks. That and the floor would make sleep even more difficult.

Which is why, when I woke before her, I considered slipping into my original spot on the bed. She had pulled the sheets so the rest was bare but all I wanted was something soft under me. Instead I plodded to the kitchen to start the coffee and make the breakfast I promised.

Once I brought it to her she took her time, allowing me enough views of her thighs that I wanted more. Hours before she kept me blindfolded so her body was still a mystery to me. I had kissed it, tasted it, touched it and worshiped it for two hours that passed like seconds but I had yet to see it.

Trying not to be too obvious her eyes lingered on my length as I tried and failed to make myself comfortable. You try going without an orgasm for close to a month and being teased until you ache and then sitting comfortably. That was the point of her breakfast. While I cooked, served and waited on her, she gave just enough subtle attention to my hard on that I insured my balls would ache for the rest of the day.

Even taking the plates from her to give her a full view of my reddened ass was forgotten as my cock twitched. Just loading the dishwasher made it pulse.
Then that tone, that nonchalant, I’ve got much better things to do, energy had me standing in front of her in the bathroom. Part of me hoped she’d show mercy but as my cock stood at full mast she barely looked at it and merely lifted the bottom of her sweatshirt to drop onto the toilet.

Of all I experienced that day, that’s what I remember most. Before she allowed me to dress and sent me home I stood with my hands behind my back and nodded as she reminded me what she expected. I listened and tried to focus on the words over the ache in my balls.

None of that stayed with me. Days later I remember how little she thought about openly ***ing in front of me, how her voice went lower as the stream hit the water and blamed it on the coffee. Her eyes rolled back and she let out a groan.

Some women spank or slap your face. Others will tease your cock or take control in bed. She did all those but it was the last act of dominance that remained with me. There was no timidity or shyness, she was too above me for that. As she relieved herself I had to stay in place and look down. The sound of it and the moan that was so much like the night before got to me.

I guess my face turned red and she pointed it out, only compounding my shame. For now her need for me was over and a desperate *** was more important. It didn’t matter if I was there or not. Her need came first. After all, I was just a slave that slept at the foot of her bed like a piece of furniture.