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“Humble pose.” I say it as soon as I walk in.

You lose the eager puppy dog look immediately. I have a moment to see the nervous look cross your face before you drop to the floor.

Is she angry with me?

Have I done something wrong?

No, you’ve been a good little toy. I’m just in the mood to play with you.

I walk around you, my eels clicking on the hardwood floor. My crop is in my hand and I use it to guide your body, pushing your head further up, lifting your ass up in the air. I run the crop over your shoulders and down your back. A glide, a stroke.

I punctuate it with a hard slap against your ass.

You give a little yelp. A sound of surprise, a plea for no more.

There will be more today, my little pet.

“Hands behind your back,” I say.

It’s uncomfortable, this position. It presses your face into the wood floor, forces you to turn your head to the side to rest your cheek against the cool boards. Usually, I use rope to bind you, but today I make do with leather cuffs. I don’t want you to be there too long, on the cold, hard floor. But I do want to play with you.

I bind your hands quickly and then crouch down beside your head.

“Open,” I say.

You obey, obedient as ever, and I slip a metal plug between your lips.

It’s been cleaned – and well – since last you wore it, but I see from your face that you know what it is and where it’s been.

“Suck on it,” I tell you.

You obey, of course you do. But I see the unhappiness in your eyes.

“Ten on your feet,” I say.

You give a little squeak at that. You hate your feet being played with. Honestly, I think you’d rather I tormented your balls. So, of course, I always go back to the feet.

“Make sure I can hear you,” I remind you. “Otherwise, I might lose count.”

I swish the crop and land a hard strike on the underside of your foot. You flinch, hard. I don’t hear a number.

“Did you not hear me?” I ask. “Should I move to here?”

I poke at your balls with my crop.

As expected, you give a bellow like a bull, lifting up high, trying to escape my touch.

“Count, then,” I say.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

I aim the blows in the same place, building the intensity. As you whimper “Seven” out from around the plug, I can almost hear the tears.

I take pity on you and change to the other foot for the final three.

“Well done,” I say after the final strike. “I’m proud of you.”

You give a little wiggle, which I take as pleasure from my praise.

“Now,” I say, “We’re going to work on your shyness.”

I move to the corner of the room and put the crop down on the dresser. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you twist your head around to watch me. I pick up a small bottle of lube.

“When I want to play with you, I want you eager and happy. Excited. This embarrassment you feel, there’s no need for it.”

I turn to you and open the bottle of lube. I let you watch me spread it liberally over two fingers.

“I want to fuck your ass. I want you writhing and pleading and begging me for more. This little issue you have, we’re going to get over it. Right now. Do you understand?”

You can’t really talk, not with the plug in your mouth, but you nod. Good.

“I’m going to stick my fingers in your ass. I’m going to fuck it with my fingers, and I’m going to wank your little cock as I do so. And when you cum, I’m going to scoop it up and you’re going to drink it. Do you understand?”

You hesitate. Several things in there you don’t like. No, correction. Several things in there you’re scared to like.

“if you do that, I’m going to let you lick my cunt. Does that sound good?”

You make anxious little whimpers that I take as assent. Excellent.

I move behind you, dropping a pillow down between your legs because I have no intention of being uncomfortable. I have the bottle of lube in my hand, but first I lean down, flick my tongue over your asshole and then push it slightly inside.

“Feel that?” I ask. You squeak. “It doesn’t disgust me, so it shouldn’t disgust you.”

A mournful little moan. I laugh.

“You’re going to enjoy this,” I say. “I promise.”

I drizzle lube down the crack of your ass and then catch it with two of my fingers. I circle your ass slowly, then press forward with a single finger.

You make a tiny noise of objection. It isn’t pain, it’s shame.

No, I’m not having that.

I smack your ass hard.

“It’s my finger in your asshole,” I tell you. “Get over it.”

I push my finger in harder, then pull out and add more lube. I go in deeper, faster, fucking you with the single digit.

“How’s that?” I ask. “Is that good?”

You make a strangled noise. A groan. Definitely yes/

“Try to relax,” I instruct.

I add a second finger. It stretches you, just a little. You moan, flinch. I pause, letting you feel the sensation, then when you relax under my hand I start moving my fingers in and out. In and out. At the same time, I reach down and skim my other hand over your balls and grab your cock. It’s rock hard.

“You like this,” I say. “You’re going to love my strap on. Pegging you is going to be so much fun.”

You don’t say anything but your cock jumps in my hand.

I slide my fingers in and out of your ass. I could add more lube, but I want you to feel it. At the same time, I grab your cock, hard. I squeeze it, deliberately hurting you, and without permission your hips start to hump. I allow it, fucking your ass harder with my fingers.

“You like this, don’t you?” I ask. “You’re going to cum. You want to cum, because you know I’m going to make you eat it. Filthy fucking cunt. You want to eat your cum, lick it off my fingers, You’re disgusting, aren’t you? My disgusting little whore.”

You’re making noises, urgent little grunts that are getting more desperate.

“Look at you,” I say. “Look how desperate you are. Maybe I’ll make you lick it off the floor. Or lick it off the fingers that are in my ass right now. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Should I give you the choice? Should I use this hand?” I squeeze hard with the hand around your cock, “Or this one? This one in your ass?”

I increase the pace and violence of my thrusting.

“That’s the one you want, isn’t it, you nasty fuck? You want to lick the cum off the hand that’s been inside your own ass!”

That’s too much for you. The shame, the indignity. You explode, your cock going turgid then jerking hard in my hand. I keep fucking your ass while I hold your cock in a vice-like grip, making you ride out the wave. Your cum shoots all over the floor.

I’m grateful for your longer hair as I grasp a handful and use it to manhandle you up to your knees. I pull the plug out of your mouth and, using my clean hand, scoop the jizz from the floor.

“Open,” I instruct.

You hesitate, just a moment, then you open your mouth. I wipe the cum across your tongue.

“No,” I say, as you go to close your mouth. “Hold it there.”

I move to the bed and sit down. I spread my legs, exposing my cunt to you beneath the latex mini skirt I’m wearing. I grab my wand and flick it on. I put it to my cunt and smother a moan. I’m so turned on I could come right now.

I hold out my other hand to you. It’s slick with lube and it’s been in your asshole.

“Suck this off and I’ll let you make me cum, instead of this toy,” I say.

You deliberate while I circle my clit with the vibrator. I gibe a helpless little groan because it feels so fucking good.

“Your decision,” I say.

A moment later, I feel the heat of your mouth engulf my fingers.

“Good boy,” I whisper. “Good boy.”


What a read, great stuff 😍
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