Halfway across the room he stops and loosens his grip on my hair. As I raise my head I see a low-slung table at eye-level. He walks to the chair beside it and sits down, then gestures to the items he has clearly placed carefully.
“Your last choice of the evening pet. What would you like?”
My eyes widen and I swallow nervously as I take in the leather belt, the o-ring gag, and the clover clamps lined up next to each other. Arousal shoots through me, accompanied by a delicious shiver of fear. I can feel myself getting wetter, my stomach tensing with anticipation, my thighs rubbing together in response to the growing empty ache in my cunt. This is actually a difficult choice. The belt is a perennial favorite of mine. I adore the thuddy impact it delivers, the control with which he wields it, the caress of the leather on my skin. But I already felt the bite of a crop tonight, and the other two items are very intriguing.
I push at the ball gag with my tongue, feeling the drool that has escaped dripping down my chin and landing on my full breasts. There was a time I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating than to drool all over myself, unable to speak. Now I love the intoxicating freedom that comes from not having to be self-conscious about the noises I make during a scene. I know how much it turns him on to reduce me to a messy girl who can’t talk back, who can only take what she’s given. I adore the way he makes my drool a lubricant, fucking his cock into my cleavage, using me for his pleasure. The o-ring gag serves a different purpose, of course. If I choose it will he fuck my mouth instead? I moan a little at the thought of the weight and taste of him on my tongue, the blunt head of his cock pushing against the back of my throat. His hands in my hair, forcing me to take all of him until I am gagging and choking around him, milking his orgasm with my involuntary struggles.
The clamps, though….I wince involuntarily at the memory of how they bite into the sensitive flesh of my nipples. I know from experience that the anticipation of pain is often worse than the actual pain itself. But I also know how skillfully he can wield those clamps, how the right tug at the right moment can cause every muscle in my body to tense and release in an amazing orgasm that leaves me spent and breathless. How he can use them to make me walk a knife edge of pain and pleasure until even I’m not sure if I want him to stop or give me more.
“30 seconds pet. Or I choose for you.”
His deep voice breaks into my reverie and my mind spins as I try to make a choice. I think about what his preference might be – sometimes it’s easy to read his mood, but this whole game of his has caught me off guard. I can’t tell what’s driving him tonight – a need to inflict pain, a need to exert control or something else entirely.
“10 seconds.” This time I hear the edge of warning. He will choose if I don’t, but he won’t be pleased about having to, and there will be consequences.
I shuffle closer to the table quickly, and pick up the o-ring gag, holding it out to him in supplication, on my knees, head bent, eyes on the floor. My heart is beating fast as I wait for him to react, ideas about what might happen next flashing through my mind, excitement and nervousness zinging through me, heady like wine.
He smiles and takes the gag from me, tipping my head up so I can meet his eyes.
“An excellent choice.”
He reaches behind me and undoes the clasp to the ball gag, easing it out of my mouth. I flex my jaw a little, working out the stiffness, and he hands me a water glass which I sip from gratefully, waiting for his next instructions. He leans down to kiss me and our tongues tangle in a rush of passion and heat. I love the way he kisses me; the scrape of stubble against my softer skin; the hard press of lips that yields as I open for him; the complete focus he brings to it, his hands cupping my face, his heat and scent surrounding me. I lick my tongue into his mouth and feel the shudder that racks his large frame. He breaks the kiss and moves his hands to my shoulders, urging me to stand. He moves behind me, bringing the new gag up to my mouth. As I open my jaw wide to accommodate it, he fastens it behind my head, pulling my hair out of the way. When he’s done he tugs at my hair, making me arch my neck to look up and back at him, my pink lips stretched sort of obscenely around the o. He runs a finger over it and smiles at me – a wolfish, dark twist of his mouth that causes an answering twist low in my belly. He grabs my hand and rubs it against the bulge his cock makes behind the zip on his pants. I can’t help my sharp inhale as I feel it twitch against my palm.
“Feel that? You’re going to take all of that down your little throat. I’ve been hard since this morning, thinking about all the fun I was going to have with you tonight. Hearing those sexy whimpers you made when I used the crop made me throb. I’m so fucking hard it hurts and you’re gonna make it feel all better. Aren’t you?”
I nod, several times. I absolutely am.
“I couldn’t hear you.”
“Yeeach Urr.” That’s all I can manage with the gag but I nod again to emphasize my willingness. He gives me a little shove toward the bed.
“Lie on your back, head at the edge.”
If I could smile I would – this is one of my favorite things to do. I walk slowly, knowing he’s watching the curve of my ass, the sway of my hips. As soon as I’m settled in place he’s standing by my head, looming over me, working to get his pants undone. He fists his cock a couple of times, pumping it and a greedy noise escapes my throat. I want him in my mouth so badly, the feel of the velvety skin, the iron hardness, the salty, musky, male taste.
He shoves his hands under my shoulders and yanks me up, making me arch my back, moving me so my throat is angled just the way he wants. Without a word he lines his cock up with the o ring and slides into my eager, waiting mouth. Even before the head hits the back of my throat my heart is racing, adrenaline and desire flooding my body. I’m squirming on the bed already, unable to stay still, my hips moving in search of something to assuage the ache of need.
The ring keeps my tongue out of the way and he keeps moving his hips, until his cock lodges at the back of my throat. I have a moment of panic, my gag reflex threatening, along with tears as the pressure builds.
“Relax,” he murmurs, “take all of me sweetheart” and then moans low when I obey, forcing my muscles to loosen, opening my throat to accept him. I breathe as deeply as I can through my nose and as tears spill from my eyes, I swallow against his cock and it slides all the way down my throat.
“Holy fuck, yes princess, just like that.” The words sound like they’re ground out behind gritted teeth as his hips jerk forward into the tight vise of my throat. He looks down at me as my feet instinctively kick out, and with a groan he pulls back enough to let me breathe again. I suck in several deep, desperate breaths as he gently wipes the tears and drool off my cheeks, the caress in stark contrast to how he shoved his cock down my throat seconds before.
“More, I need more,” he says raggedly and then his cock is in my mouth again. A masterful slide in and out of my throat that I fucking love. It’s invasive and possessive and brutal and I’m just as turned on as he is by it. His cock swells, salty, tangy precum coating my throat. He’s close and I want to take him over the edge, make him unravel. I want to give him more, I want to give him everything.
He slides out so I can get air and then both his hands wrap around my neck and he’s fucking my mouth with abandon. My nose is pressed up against the clean, trimmed hair at the base of his cock. I am surrounded by him, drowning in his taste and scent and touch. I swallow repeatedly, contracting on the sensitive head of his cock, pushing him closer to the edge. He’s hunched over me, pumping short, fast thrusts into my throat until he finally releases with a noise I can’t even describe. It’s primal and animalistic and I swear my clit throbs and my cunt clenches in response. I’m all want and need and heat, caught up in having this strong, sexy man undone because of my mouth. He holds still for a long moment, panting above me. Then his hands gentle on my neck, he slides his softening cock out of my mouth and lifts my head enough to undo the gag.
“Lick me clean,” he says and I do, lapping and licking at him until his cock twitches under my ministrations.
“Enough,” he says sternly, and pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger. His expression is part rueful, part amused when I look up. He drops a kiss on my mouth – gentleness and reverence. A delicious counterpoint to the rough handling of before and I arch into him, my arousal simmering right below the surface, ready to boil over again with very little provocation.
This pussy get so wet so easily, baby. God, I just can’t imagine how you can even focus on anything else anymore. Look at this. Just fucking look at it. I’m barely even rubbing my thumb here and you’re leaking out here like a faucet.
That’s enough for today I think. Maybe just one more minute. But honestly, anything beyond that is going to be too much for you to take. I wouldn’t want to push you over the edge. I know you’d feel so terrible orgasming without permission. That’s why I’m going to stop. Because I don’t want to get you too overwhelmed. Get your senses so heightened that you can’t even move without feeling the ache between your thighs. That wouldn’t be good. So I’m going to stop now. Well, not now. But soon. I think.
Mischief's Muse 