Overwhelmed, Part Five
“How’s she doing?” Sir asked.
“Well, I see a marked improvement,” the Southern Gentleman joked. I was on my knees, wrists cuffed behind my back, nipples clamped, gag off. Sir was sitting by the couch, having a drink and watching as I sucked SG’s cock.
After hearing that comment, I pulled back and pouted. “Hey, you ass,” I huffed and laughed. Sir got up and grabbed my hair, holding my hair still while SG slapped me.
“Something funny?” he taunted, slapping me again. “Is something funny to you? Your job’s to suck cock, I’d better not see your face off of me unless you’re licking my balls.”
Sir shoved my face back down on SG’s cock and moved back over to his seat. SG smirked and sat back, rolling his hand through my hair while I sucked. Trying to be a good girl, I kept taking him deeper, to the point that tears were welling down my face and drool was pooling onto my chest and I was becoming a mess.
I pulled back and gasped for breath, only to have SG grab roughly onto my hair. “What did I just say?” he slapped me across the face.
“My face is messy,” I protested. “I want a tissue.”
Sir chuckled, “I know, we like that. It’s cute.”
I pouted, “but I want a tissue.” Sir conceded and wiped my face while SG still held me by the hair. Once my face was relatively tidied, SG pulled my face back down onto his cock.
“I feel selfish,” SG said to Sir, taking a sip of his drink and mussing my hair.
Sir laughed, “don’t. I like the view.”
SG reached down and looped his finger between my cuffs, simultaneously bending me forward and yanking me up to my feet. “Do you want some of this?” I stumbled, nearly falling into his lap, and he laughed. “Let’s take her over to the futon.”