Anybody who says they can’t feel dominant while eating a girl’s pussy just isn’t creative enough.
control
Halfway There, Part Twelve
My mind was moving a thousand miles a minute and I could barely process what was happening as I strode into the kitchen. There was a weird disconnect between what was going on in my head and how I was behaving. Outwardly, I was confident, quick, maybe a little cruel. Inside, I was nervous. My jaw was shaking.
“Now, where’s the bowl you’re supposed to piss in?” I asked, picking up a collander that was on the counter. “Sure hope this isn’t it, huh? That would be embarrassing."
I knew that I couldn’t actually make her piss into the a bowl. For all the bravado, I was kind of petrified. The only time I’ve ever been this dominant was with Switch, and it was after I’d known him for a while. This was more performative, more new. I was scared at any second I’d fail at maintaining the facade and would totally drop out of character.
Meanwhile, Lida was whimpering and setting a bowl on the floor. I sucked in a deep breath and pointed to the bathroom door, "get in there, you’ll piss in the tub.”
“Okay,” she replied, getting to her feet.
“Okay?” I repeated. “Honestly, are you kidding me? I’m being nice to you and you’ve got the most piss-poor manners. What do you say to me?”
“I have to pee,” she stammered.
“You say ‘please,’ ‘thank you,’ and ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s all I want to hear from you,” I ordered.
She shifted from side to side. “Okay.”
I looked over to Flint, “is she fucking stupid or something? I told her what to say and she still doesn’t say it.” He chuckled. I motioned to the bathroom once more, “get in there, would you?”
Lida scrambled over to the bathroom. Flint shot me a smirk and I just shrugged, winking before following Lida inside.
I have never seen something as sexy
Standardas Pet staring up at me, her eyes begging, moist lips parted, thick muscular thighs splayed, waiting for me to give her another piece of cookie.
Her new diet is that she can only eat sugar if I feed it to her. It’s the best decision I’ve made in quite a while.
Um, have I mentioned how much I would love being fed? Cough cough.
My flight is cancelled until Sunday.
I’m pouting like crazy because my inner control freak just isn’t having it.
But my Daddy reminded me that it’s some extra time with loved ones. So I’m trying to have some perspective and I’m off to take a little nap with Sir.
“Sweetheart, didn’t I give you your allowance this week already?”
“Uh huh.”
“And? Where’d it go?”
“I spent it all. I just want a little bit more to go shopping, Sir.”
“I spoil you rotten. You know that, Sweetheart?”
“Uh huh.”
I love how her hands aren’t bound.
So, even though she could, potentially, remove the blindfold and gag,
whoever set her up like that
knows she won’t.
We were in his bed and I was sucking Sir’s cock.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked.
I nodded and moaned around his length. His fingers were laced into my hair and, with a quick tug, he pulled my mouth off of him. He took his cock into his hand and went to move me, but hesitated. With a grin, he shoved his cock back into my mouth.
“Nevermind,” he explained, “I like the way you suck my cock too much. You’re going to do it some more.”
Her Daddy didn’t let her wear panties for a week.
Her Sir didn’t let her wear pants.
“Let’s go for a walk,”
I said, “the river is beautiful when it snows.”
You agreed, and we bundled up to face the wind. As we were about to head out the door, however, I pulled you aside.
“Today, I think I just want to enjoy the scenery,” I said as I produced a ball gag and padlock from my coat pocket, “There’s plenty of time for conversation when we get back.”
Your eyes grew wide as I pulled the scarf away from your face, slipped the gag between your teeth, and locked it in place with a satisfying “tink” before carefully arranging your scarf so as to hide the gag from prying eyes.
“There, don’t you look beautiful?” I inquired. You replied with nothing more than a muffled groan, but it was too late, we were already out the door.
I took the lead and blazed a trail through the slush covered sidewalks over to the coffeeshop. Just a few blocks away, it was a short detour on our walk to the river.
Despite a muffled protest, I led you inside. “Can I get you something?” the barista asked.
“I’ll have a large coffee, um, black, and she’ll have a hot cocoa,” I replied, looking at you.
The barista then turned to you and asked, “Do you want whipped cream on that, darling?” You nodded silently and then indulged me by turning six shades of red.
The rest of the walk to the river was relatively uneventful. Not many people were out enjoying the snow, preferring, apparently, the relative comfort of a sofa and fireplace to the damp squalor of freshly salted sidewalks. Along the way I attempted to make conversation, saying perhaps, “See how that icicle is reflecting the light?” or, “I love their holiday decorations,” but you never offered up much of a response, other than a glare or a finger pointed at your mouth. “What a tough crowd,” I’d then say, prompting, of course, another piercing glare.
To Be Continued
This is the kind of stuff I want but I am entirely too shy to ask for.
And also a little too shy to endure.
I love the superfluous lock. It’s not like she’s going to be at liberty to be able to take this thing off in public anyway. It adds that extra sense of the loss of control that makes it really, really hot.
Flash Forward #2
StandardFor the first Flash Forward, click here.
“I touched myself this afternoon,” I tell Craftsmate while we are studying in the library. “And came.”
He frowns a bit and turns the page of the document he’s reading.
I sigh and put the screen of my laptop down. “I was very stressed out.”
“Did it help?” He asks.
I shrug. “Yeah, a little.”
He nods to himself, not looking up from the paper in his hands. “You’re still getting a spanking.” I figured as much.
Back at his place, he gives me a pretty firm spanking. My ass is stinging afterwards and I think I am finished when he asks me to flip over. I roll over on the bed and lie down on my back for him. He traces his finger over my slit.
“Is this the needy little cunt that gets you in so much trouble?”
I nod. He smacks it hard and then teases his fingers over it once more. I feel myself start to get wet. I’m always a little ashamed about how my body tends to betray me like this.
He smacks it a few more times before pulling my panties and my sweatpants up.
“I want to touch it now,” I say with a pout.
He grins and kisses my forehead. I’m tired, but he wants to stay up and work a bit more. “Well, you’re not going to. Sweet dreams.”
As I huff and curl up, he reaches below the sheets and pulls my hands over them so he can see where they are. He sits down at the desk beside his bed and, after a few unanswered exclamations of frustration, I fall asleep.