Uncategorized – Page 172 – Mischief's Muse

exoticeva:

For a follower who requested something longer than my usual pieces:

The door shut with a soft click that seemed to echo in the sudden stillness of the room. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest – a delicious mix of nerves and the arousal his kisses in the elevator had elicited. Now I watched as he stalked further into the room, shrugging off his jacket, yanking at his tie to unbutton the top buttons of his crisp shirt. The sight of the crisp hair that peeked out made me swallow hard, a visual reminder of his maleness, the stark differences in our builds, of how easily I could be overpowered. I hovered by the door, pinned by the predatory blue gaze that swept over me. He gave the tie a final tug and wrapped both ends around his hands, pulling it taut with a snap. He lifted an eyebrow as I continued to stand there, then pointed at the floor in front of him.

"Crawl.“

I dropped to my knees, placing my palms on the carpeted floor, and began to crawl toward him. Instinctively I made it a slow, sensuous movement, relishing in the drag of the fibers on my knees. This would leave the first of what I hoped would be many marks on my body tonight. With the tips of his polished shoes in front of me I dropped back and positioned myself as he had shown me in the beginning – a supplicant, an acolyte, an offering to his darkness, or maybe my own. I kept my eyes fixed on those shoes and breathed in and out as evenly as I could, given the intoxicating lust that was fizzing through my veins, settling in the pit of my stomach with a deep throb.

He walked slowly behind me, squatting to gather the wrists I had placed at the small of my back into his larger hand. “Bend your elbows.” I obeyed and felt the cool silk of his tie on that delicate flesh, raising goosebumps, before it tightened as he knotted it. He stood and admired his handiwork before circling me again. His hand extended to tip my chin up. “Look at me, pet.”

I raised eyes that I knew betrayed everything to meet his gaze and when his finger grazed my lips it wasn’t conscious thought that had them opening, that had my tongue stretching out to wrap around him. Those movements came from somewhere baser, more instinctual. I heard his low murmur of approval which spurred me to suck harder, as if I could pull the taste of him off his flesh and keep it as a part of me – owned, branded, possessed.

“Keep sucking, show me what a hungry little slut you are. Do you wish it was my cock?”

I nodded while keeping his finger in my mouth, running my tongue along it until I felt the whorls of his fingerprint, then sliding back down to his knuckle. I was addicted to this man. He was right, I was a hungry little slut. Starved. Aching. Kneeling in front of him with his finger in my mouth; filthy, delicious thoughts in my head, and soaked panties as proof.

He pushed his finger further in, making me gag as he pressed on the back of my tongue. He pulled it slowly out, a rough caress that mimicked what I knew would happen next. I nipped playfully at his fingertip as it passed and he chuckled roughly. But then his hand slid down to grip my throat and the mood shifted as he bent over me “when I fuck this pretty little mouth of yours, you’d better keep your teeth to yourself kitten, understand?” His hand tightened and I felt an answering clench in my core. He released my throat and I gasped out “Yes, sir” as quickly as I could.

His hands made deft work of his leather belt and fly. His cock was already hard, pushing crudely against the front of his boxer briefs before he shoved those out of the way too. Grabbing my hair, he pulled my head back, making my neck arch as his cock hovered over my already open mouth.

“Lick me. Show me how much you want it. How desperate you are for me to choke you with my cock and cum.”

My tongue shot out to lap at the smooth, silky underside of his cock. I couldn’t help the appreciative moan that escaped as I tasted him. I started to lick with longer strokes from root to tip, then up again to run my tongue along the sensitive ridge. I made that pass a few times before he fisted both hands in my hair, pulled back his hips and then thrust as deep as he could into my mouth.

“Fuck yes, like that, fuck.”

He groaned as he hit the back of my throat with each thrust, my muscles clamping down as I choked, my moans reverberating up his shaft as I reveled in the weight and feel of him on my tongue. On a particularly deep thrust he pulled my mouth in tight against him, until his balls were under my chin and my air was cut off. My eyes watered as I swallowed and swallowed against the tip of his cock invading my throat. I could taste the salty tang of his precum, the firm pressure of his large hands on my head, the slight pain from where he was pulling my hair – all of it stoking my senses, making my clit throb and my pussy leak with arousal. He pulled back out, strands of saliva connecting his cock to my swollen lips before breaking to drop down my chin as I tried to take huge gulps of air.

His hands gentled a little as he smoothed my hair back and rubbed his thumb over my lips.

“Such a good little cocksucker. Should I keep going?”

I nodded eagerly, desperate to please, to serve, to be his source of pleasure and satisfaction.

“Open.”

The command in his voice had me shivering, and then my mouth was filled again and I registered the contrast between his hardness and the velvet skin the slid past my lips. He showed even less gentleness this time, holding my head in both hands, his thumbs pushing into the pressure points of my jaw as he owned my mouth. In and out, his grunts and my muffled moans filling the heated air until nothing existed for me except this. He pulled all the way out once more and fisted his cock in one hand, pointing it toward me, the other still gripping my hair.

“I’m going to come princess. Where should I come? On your face? In that hot eager fucking mouth of yours? You’ll take it wherever I fucking give it to you, won’t you? Such a needy little cumslut.”

I was still gasping for air, but I managed to squeeze out my “yes, please sir. Please come on me,” before holding my tongue out to catch whatever I could.

His hand moved faster and I couldn’t tear my gaze off the raw, masculine beauty of it. His breathing got heavier, and then he was grunting “fuck, fuck, ohhhhh fuck” as thick spurts of his come hit my face, neck and tongue. I held it in my mouth, like the good little cumslut that I was, relishing the taste of it as it sat on my tongue before swallowing it all down. His grip loosened and now he was petting my hair, smoothing it as he recovered from the orgasm. Once again he slid his hand around to encircle my throat. “Such a good girl” he crooned, his voice softened with pleasure.

“Did you like that?”

I couldn’t stop the answering smile that spread across my face at his praise.

“Yes sir,” I replied softly, feeling the mix of cum, sweat and spit on my face and chin. Marks of pride in a job well done.

“Are you wet?”

I nodded, flushing a little at having to acknowledge how much his use of me had turned me on.

“I can’t hear you little one.”

“Yes sir…I’m wet.”

“Good. Stand up, bend over the bed. I want to see.”

His tone held an edge of something that had me hurrying to obey. With my hands still tied behind my back and my heels still on, I awkwardly got to my feet, knowing he enjoyed watching the small struggle for balance. I walked to the bed and bent over, back arched slightly to push my ass out. My black sheath dress rode up a little, the back slit revealing the top of my stockings and the garter I had been instructed to wear for this rendezvous. He moved to stand behind me then, sliding a large warm hand into that slit to push the dress up over my ass. I squeaked as he snapped one of the straps on the garter belt like a rubber band against the back of my thigh.

“Very good princess. I like it when you follow instructions. Spread your legs.”

His hands smoothed over my heated flesh, stroking and gripping my thighs, grabbing and pinching hard enough that I knew there would be bruises. Getting ever closer to where I burned with need for him, but never quite touching me where it ached the most, the need for pressure, to be filled driving me mad. No matter how much I squirmed trying to make contact.

“Is there something you need pet?” His voice had dropped even lower and the words were a vicious murmur above me.

“Yes, please, please sir. I need you to touch me…so badly. Please. Please!”

I didn’t care that I was begging. I had no interest in dignity at that moment. My only concern was the unbearable ache in my cunt, the insistent throbbing of my clit, my desperate need to come.

I cried out again as his hand cracked on my ass. “I’ll touch you when I want to, and you’ll come only when I let you. Is that clear little girl?”

The reasonable, calm tone of his voice was a counterpoint to the heated smacks with which he punctuated each word.

“Yes..ow! It’s clea—ouch! Sir! Please. I’m –ah! Sorry.”

My response was punctuated by my gasps of pain as he continued to spank my ass. His reply was to plant one hand firmly in the middle of my spine and pin me down firmly while the other yanked at the black lace thong I had worn until it was below the curve of my ass.

“Ten more and you’re going to count each one, am I clear?”

“Yes sir” my answer was muffled by the comforter on the bed as I turned my head into it.

Each crack of his large palm stung and my pitch got higher and higher as I counted. By five the sting had morphed into a throbbing, hot ache that intensified with each successive smack. At number eight, when he hit that really sensitive flesh right at the top of my thigh I shrieked and kicked my heels up before collapsing back down and starting to sob. Nine and ten came rapidly and I choked out the numbers through my tears. I could see the black smudges my mascara was leaving on the bright white bedding but the pain was mutating again, the heated throb moving, making me squirm and clench as it settled in my cunt.

I whimpered as his hand smoothed over my red, aching flesh.

“You needed that, didn’t you little girl? Yes. I know you did…and look, I think you enjoyed it too.”

This as he slipped two long fingers down the curve of my ass, passed the tight pucker of my ass and into the silky wetness of my aching pussy.

“Oh yes, you enjoyed it very much. Look at the mess you’ve made, feel how wet you are.”

His fingers plunged in and out, slow and hard, and my focus narrowed to nothing but the heat of my ass and the feel of them, to the tightness ratcheting up with every stroke of sensitive flesh, every ripple of that flesh around his hand. I was gasping and moaning against the sheets, my still bound hands flexing as if to grab onto something to keep me grounded as his touch pushed me higher and higher.

Suddenly his hand was gone and I wailed, so close to orgasm I could feel my pussy fluttering, clenching at nothing, demanding fulfilment. But before I could beg for more he had placed his hard cock at my aching entrance and thrust in as deep as he could, ripping a different sound from my throat as finally, finally I was filled. He grunted, a deep sound of satisfaction as he gripped my hips hard enough to leave those fingertip bruises I loved so much.

“Fuck, you’re so tight princess, milk me with that tight cunt.”

The command was my undoing – my orgasm barrelled down my spine and I cried out uncontrollably as I shuddered around him, clutching him even tighter. He swore again, breathing hard, continuing to stroke through it, until I was limp and trembling, his grip the only thing keeping me from collapsing.

“Oh pet – you didn’t ask permission for that one.” Pulling out he smacked my ass hard.

“Roll onto your back – you apparently need to be reminded what happens to naughty girls who don’t ask for permission to come.”

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