Can you picture her? If you were fortunate enough to espy her in a crowd, you would do a double take, and triple. If you were with a date, you would do your best to sneak peaks in her direction whenever possible. If flying solo, as you are now, you try to get away with gazing at her for minutes on end.
She is the personification of alluring, and it starts with her full, Asian, catlike eyes, stunningly highlighted by a trace of shadowy eyeliner. Her dark brown hair is pulled into a pony tail to show off her large, hoop earrings. As she converses with her friends, the hoops gently bounce against her face, softly kissing her cheeks. You are mesmerized by those earrings. The fuck-me hoops seem to enhance her sexuality without making her look like a slut. She plays those earrings like a finely tuned instrument.
Her body is tight, a work of art, accented by a perky pair of 33Bs constricted by a spaghetti-strap tank top that is perhaps one size too small. But the taut cotton only accentuates her toned midsection, which draws your eyes down to her hips, screaming at you from within the belt of her low-rise jeans. Her ass is firm but supple, the result of hundreds of hours spent bicycling. She is well aware of the effect she has on men, and has worked hard to maintain it.
Her belly is tight and tanned. Her navel is pierced, a silver charm embedded within.
Your eyes return to her face, and you jump when she realizes she has caught you staring. You instinctively shoot your eyes down, hoping she is not angry that you are ogling her. But when you return your gaze to her, she is still fixed on you, smiling. Her smile strikes an unusual dichotomy of girl-next-door sweetness and I-could-swallow-your-cock-whole sex demon.
You smile back, like an idiot, thinking you have a chance with this girl. You wrack your mind for a clever icebreaker, just in case her friends leave her alone and you work up the courage to approach her. Your opportunity presents itself earlier than expected. One of her friends gets up to use the rest room, and the other goes to the counter to pay for their coffees.
You have a small window of time, but before you can make a move, your eyes lock again. She cocks her eyebrows up, asking if you are man enough. She leans back against the chair and lets her right hand brush against the top of her breast and down her cleavage.
She ever so slightly parts her legs, not at all obscenely because of her jeans, but reeking of implications. It is at this point that you realize you are not man enough. With just these two simple gestures, she has you hard, and there is no way you are going to stroll across the cafe with a full erection trying to fight through your zipper.
As a last ditch effort, you try to cast a smile her way, but her friends have returned, and you resign yourself to the fact that the only additional pleasure she will grant you is the pleasure of watching her walk away. She doesn’t even look back.
If you had built up the nerve to walk over to her and ask her name, and assuming she was feeling honest, she would have answered, “Monique,” although all of her friends called her “Mokie.”
Judging strictly from aesthetics, Mokie was your typical, spoiled southern California hottie. But this is only party true. She did come from money, and her parents certainly spoiled her, but she was far from typical. She was incredibly smart, abiding by a school-first mentality that had her at the top of her class.
When she was 18, a senior in high school, she was attracting boys in college. At this stage in her life, she still believed in the concept of love, and she had the pick of the litter. Unfortunately, she chose poorly.
Of all the men who would have thrown themselves at her feet and worshipped her, she chose the one who was indifferent to her charms. His name was Jason, an undergrad student at UCLA, and the only son of Mokie’s neighbors. He had been a fantasy of hers since she knew what sex was, but he always had a train of new girls filing into his bedroom. He was two years her senior, and light-years older in terms of maturity and sexual experience.
One weekend towards the end of the school year, Mokie’s parents hosted a barbecue for all of their neighbors. When she heard that Jason would be there, Mokie did herself up in her cutest outfit, a light, yellow sundress with simple white sandals. The lack of effort she needed to look sexy was perhaps her sexiest attribute. She was a pure beauty.
When Jason and his family showed up, Mokie was relieved to see that he had not brought a girl with him. She bided her time, waiting for him to be alone, nervous about flirting in front of her parents, or anyone else for that matter. When Jason went to the bar to replenish his drink, Mokie made her move.
“Hi,” she said, trying to look and sound as sweet as possible.
“Hey,” he said, nonchalantly. Not the excited response she was hoping for.
“So, I just got into UCLA! We’re going to be sharing a campus next year!” She was clearly more excited about this than he was.
“Congrats,” was his only response.
After a few minutes of awkward conversation and even more awkward silence, Jason admitted that he was feeling down because his date had bailed on him. Of course, in his mind, he was always looking for the next girl anyway. So it wasn’t this one particular girl that had him down, it was his lack of prospects for that night.
Suddenly, pouncing on the opportunity without giving it much consideration, Mokie asked “Perhaps I could tag in for tonight?”
Jason’s eyes went wide. Despite her obvious beauty, he had never considered her as a sexual partner before. When he was a young boy, Monique’s family had moved in across the street. The Asian influx into southern California was at its peak, but the white citizens in the area did not always approve. He remembered his father, a Vietnam vet, using words like “chinks” and “gooks’” when referring to the new neighbors. In high school, white boys who paid too much attention to Asian girls were diagnosed with “yellow fever.”
As a result, he had never thought of Monique as sexy, in the same way he thought of a tanned, blond “So Cal” girl as sexy. UCLA Asian coeds had opened new horizons for Jason, especially when he needed to confirm the rumor that Asian pussy went sideways, not front to back. It had only taken him three weeks into his freshmen year to confirm that was just “white trash talk.”
Nevertheless, he had never thought of Monique as sexy, but with these seven words, that wall came crumbling down.
A minute later, he was taking her by the hand back to his house, out of sight from their parents. They ran upstairs and into his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them. He turned to her and grabbed her head in his hands, bringing his lips to hers. It was the first time Mokie had kissed a guy so passionately, let alone in a in a bedroom alone with one.
She did not know what to do with her hands, opting to just hold onto his waist, pulling him into her. His tongue forced its way through her lips and explored the entirety of her mouth. She was nervous as hell, not wanting to appear so inexperienced. He broke off the kiss and tried to calm her down.
Looking deep into her eyes, he said “Mokie, calm down. I don’t ever have sex on the first date, so you don’t have to worry. I will let you give me head, though.”
Mokie was wracked with trepidation about having to give him a BJ, but she did not want to show fear.
“Here, let me show you,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and guiding her down to her knees. He dropped his shorts down to his ankles along with his boxers, and his semi-erect dick popped into view.
From there, Mokie’s recollection of the next five minutes was really just a collection of senses. The feel of his hand gripping the hair behind her head as he fucked her mouth. The smell of his dick and the sweat forming on his abdomen as it ground against her face. The failure of her hands, feebly clasping onto his waist, to slow him down.
But above all else, Mokie remembered the sounds. As his dick assaulted her, the sounds of her “mmphh, mmphh, mmphh” flooded her ears. When she opened her mouth to breathe, it changed to “kack, kack, kack.” She felt so humiliated, his flesh plugging her up.
Finally, the ultimate humiliation, the sound of him groaning as he flooded her mouth with cum. The sticky, salty substance swarmed around her mouth, but she refused to swallow it. She could not stoop that low.
Jason held his dick in her mouth until his breath slowed, at which point he pulled out and his cum expelled from her mouth. She hung her head in shame, eyeing the cum that had fallen onto her sundress. Stoically, she fought back tears and sobs, hoping that Jason would be happy with her.
“Thanks, Mokie,” he said. “That was awesome.” He sat back on the bed and turned the TV on. After two minutes, Mokie realized that he was done with her, so she got herself to her feet and went to the bathroom.
Inspecting herself in the vanity, she washed the cum off of her chin, and dabbed the spots on her dress. There were two primary stains, one on her right breast, and one just above her right knee. She could not get them out.
Composing herself, she moved down the stairs and out the front door as quietly as possible. With the barbecue in the back yard, she ran across the front yard and into her house, unseen.
She closed the door and leaned back against it, an absolute wreck. Her jaw saw sore, and his taste still dominated her palate. She covered her eyes with her hands as the tears started working their way out.
Suddenly, she heard her parents open the door from the patio into the kitchen.
“I haven’t seen her in half an hour. Have you?” her mother asked.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” her father said, ever the pacifist. They made their way to the opposite end of the hall where Mokie now stood. She was able to elude their sight by running up the stairs, but her footsteps belied her location.
“Honey?” her mom yelled after her. Mokie did not reply, escaping to her room and slamming the door shut. She took off her dress, standing in a lacy pair of bra and panties, and inspected the cum stains closer. Her favorite dress, she thought, ruined. Even if she could cleanse it of the semen, she could not wipe her memory clean. She would never wear it again.
She was startled by a knock on the door.
“Honey, is everything OK?”
“Yeah, mom,” she answered, between sniffles. “I just spilled all over my favorite dress.”
“Oh, sweetie. Hand it out to me, I will run it through the washer.”
“No, mom. It’s ruined,” Mokie insisted.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure I can…”
“Mom, please, just leave me alone.”
It was the first time that she had forbid her mom entrance to her room, and her mom was so shocked that she resigned her efforts and left her in peace.
Later that week, while looking out her bedroom window, Mokie saw Jason bringing another girl home. Obviously, she decided, while Jason had meant the world to her, she had meant nothing to him. After a night of crying into her pillow and chastising herself for being so naive, she swore up and down that she would never let another man take advantage of her like that.
And then, by amazing coincidence, you see her again two hours later. ‘How could this be?’ you wonder, in awe of your amazing luck.
You have taken a seat at a desk near the middle aisle. You take a quick look around the room, checking for a familiar face, and out of the corner of your eye you see her. The tank top, a size too small…it is the same girl you saw earlier in the morning!
And yet not quite the same girl. With her friends she freely flashed an award-winning smile and seemed to enjoy the silent tete-a-tete that passed between you. Now, as she heads in your direction (your direction!), her face is set in a photo pout and her gait is that of a model on the cat walk, a sultry college senior who realizes that sexuality is power. It seems she knows that if she can create desire in men, (or women, for that matter), she can control them.
Classmates like you, who didn’t even know her name, would have given their left hand to be with her. But fate, this day, has provided you a second chance. Sitting at your desk for Circuits and Systems, the last requirement for your Electrical Engineering degree, you notice her quickly amongst the throngs of students filing in for the first day of class.
You follow her as she meanders through the desks, now smiling slyly as she twists between them, accentuating her curves and sensing many eyes on them. She finds an open desk immediately to your right and begins unpacking her bag: textbook, note pad, pen and her coffee from earlier. As she turns slightly, you notice a silver dolphin adorns her pierced belly button.
You cannot believe your luck, but being so shy, you stare straight down at your desk and say nothing as the professor enters and the room settles down. You couldn’t even meet her eyes, to note if she remembered you from earlier this morning.
“Good afternoon, class. Welcome to Circuits and Systems. I’m Professor Larson.”
As he scribbles his name on the white board, you sneak a peak to your left. She spins her pen through her fingers and then uses it to flip her pony tail to the other shoulder. You shake your head in awe and return your gaze to the board. ‘How could someone who seems so ditzy be in this class?’ you think to yourself.
She reaches for her coffee as Professor Larson continues.
“Before we begin, I would like to introduce my understudy. He will be available to assist you between classes, if you like. And he will be helping me grade papers and exams, so you might want to be nice to him.”
The room gave a half-hearted chuckle at this attempt at a joke.
“Jason, please stand up and say hello,” Larson requested.
The next thing you know, your obsession is coughing up her coffee, doing her best to stifle a spit-take. You glance over at her, and can sense a change in demeanor.
“Are you OK?” you quietly ask, both legitimately concerned and grateful at the opportunity to break the ice.
“Yeah, thank you,” she says without looking your way. Her face looks remarkably pale. You can sense she doesn’t want to be bothered, so you leave it alone.
Jason returns to his seat and the lecture begins. You notice that she is still very much flustered by something, but cannot figure it out. For the remainder of the ninety-minute class, you try to pay attention, but are permanently distracted by this girl.
As class is excused, Jason stands up again to address the students.
“Just a quick note. If there is a Monique here, I need to see you before you go. There seems to be a discrepancy with one of your prerequisites for this course. Thank you.”
You and everyone else get up to leave, except for her. As you file out of the room, you turn to confirm that there is no one left except for her and Jason, just to confirm her name.
“Monique,” you say to yourself, repeating it in your head, committing it to memory. You watch as she nervously descends the stairs of the amphitheater to Jason, and then turn and walk away.
Jason was sitting to the side of the professor’s desk as Mokie made her way to him on shaky legs. He remembered her as the sweetheart daughter of his neighbors, not this sexpot coed. He was thrilled that this devious plan of his would be enacted on this stunning beauty.
Monique would have done anything to be with Jason before that life-altering afternoon. Immediately afterward, she never wanted anything to do with him again.
“Hey, Mokie, long time no see,” he said, mock cheerfully.
“Fuck you, Jason,” replied Mokie. “I never wanted to see you again. If I didn’t have to take this class to graduate, I would have walked out as soon as I saw you here.”
“Well, that’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it? You DO have to take this course. Only problem is, you fucked up, Mokie. You are missing a prerequisite, and technically should not be allowed to attend this class yet.”
An overwhelming sense of panic overtook Mokie, realizing that if she could not take this class this semester, she would not be able to graduate until the following semester, after summer vacation.
“That’s impossible,” she defended with a false sense of confidence.
“I’m afraid it is quite possible. Reality, in fact. Look,” he said, turning the curriculum to her and pointing to Linear Systems Theory. “Not on your record.”
Mokie’s hands started shaking as she looked over the manual and realized he was right.
“Is there anything I can do? I don’t want to have to ask my parents to pay for another semester because of this.”
“I’m glad you asked, Mokie. I think I can actually fix this for you. But I will need you to do something for me.”
Mokie gulped, afraid to ask. “What?”
“Oh, I think you know,” he said, grinning like the deviant he was. “This is going to be a two-way street.”
“What does that mean?” Mokie asked, just slightly more optimistic.
“Here’s the deal. You submit to me, for a length of time yet to be determined. Until I am tired of you, I guess. In exchange, not only will I not bring this oversight to the registrar, but I will do the work for you in this class. This syllabus is a piece of cake for me, so I guarantee a 4.0.”
Mokie sat silently, considering the options she really didn’t have.
“Well,” said Jason. “How about a ‘Thank you?’”
“Thank you?” Mokie asked.
“Yeah, a fucking Thank You! You get a pretty sweet deal out of all this. You give yourself to me, and in exchange you don’t have to go back to your parents in shame and tell them you are not going to graduate on time. You certainly dress like you get it all the time anyway, so what’s the big deal”
Mokie clenched her eyes shut, trying to prevent any tears from flowing. She took a deep breath, and resigned herself to this situation.
“Thank you, Jason.”
“Uh, uh, uh,” he warned, waving his finger at her in warning. “From now on, you address me as Master. Do you understand?”
“Master?” she responded, with a clear lack of comprehension.
“Yes, ‘Master’. You know, like Master and slave.”
“But…,” she started.
“But nothing, slut,” he hissed.
“When I say ‘submit’, I mean ‘submit.’ You yield your body to me, you obey me unconditionally, when I say jump, you jump.” He paused, watching her expression. He had been blunt, mincing no words. She would either agree or stalk out and take an extra semester to graduate.
He knew he had won when she closed her gaping mouth and dropped her eyes.
“Yes, Master,” Mokie answered, relenting to his authority over her.
“Very good, slut,” he said. “You are free for now, but meet me in the electrical lab at 9pm tonight. Understood?”
“Yes, Master,” Mokie said with her eyes to the floor.
“Good, now get out of my sight.”
Mokie arrived promptly at 9pm, being careful not to give Jason anything else to use against her. She peaked through the square-foot window in the middle of the door, and saw him sitting behind the professor’s desk with his feet up. She steadied her nerves and opened the door.
“Well, my pet has arrived,” Jason said as she entered. “Your Master appreciates punctuality.”
She paused half way down the aisle, not saying a word, but definitely a look of defiance on her face. Clearly, she had recovered from the shock earlier in the day and was going to make a stand. This he could not allow.
“Take off your sandals and kick them over to me.”
“Can we talk about this arrangement a bit more, please,” she began.
“No, you can turn around and walk out the door and face the consequences, or you can kick your sandals over to me. I am the one doing you a favor, slut,” Jason responded instantly. He had expected this.
Mokie stepped out of them, and kicked them along the floor to Jason, who picked them up and put them in the bottom drawer of the desk.
Michael was mowing the lawn when she called. Slowly he had been crossing the small lawn, pushing the mower at comfortable pace chosen to avoid sweating too much in the warm summer afternoon heat. The quiet mower whirred, clipping the few grass blades that had grown tall enough to reach its rotating blades. Luckily, the mower did not prevent him from hearing the cell phone in his pocket when it rang.
“Hello slut,” he heard Mistress Katie’s voice in his ear, “are you behaving yourself?”
“Hello Mistress Katie,” he spoke softly, glancing towards the fences around the yard to see if he had been overheard, “yes ma’am, I have been behaving?”
“Good boy, not too uncomfortable after only two days in your cage are you?”
“No Mistress,” Michael whispered, ” I am comfortable.”
“Wonderful, clean yourself up, prepare yourself like last time, and I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Yes ma’am,” he responded eagerly, his imagination causing his cock to throb slightly in its confinement.
Michael was tending house alone while his wife Domina was away for seven weeks of summer classes. She had arranged for Mistress Katie to visit occasionally and to ensure Michael was behaving himself, which really meant to ensure his continuing arousal and frustration with teasing and chastity play. Two days earlier, Mistress Katie had visited, and after a thorough teasing session during which she enjoyed two very nice orgasms while Michael throbbed in his cage, she had left him locked in his chastity device.
Normally, his Mistress wife would trust him to keep the key to his chastity cage, trusting him to remove it when physical activities or hygiene dictated it to be a sensible course of action. But not this time, Mistress Katie had removed the lock, replacing it with a numbered plastic tag that he couldn’t remove without destroying the tag, or the trust placed in him to wait for release.
The psychological difference that small plastic tag made was palpable. It tormented Michael with a devilish balance between being trusted with a key to his chastity cage, and being locked up with the key under Mistress Katie’s control. The tag might be easily removable, but he would only do that in an emergency. Until Mistress Katie returned to remove it, he would submit to Domina’s will and behave himself for Mistress Katie. Not knowing how long he’d have to wait was all part of the tease, slowly building anticipation could be so delicious when the potential rewards could be so intense.
Locking the mower in the garden shed, Michael went into the house to shower. He stood under the warm water, feeling it flow over his muscles as his mind raced over the many possibilities which a visit from Mistress Katie might bring. His cock, secure in the cage, throbbed as the water ran through the holes in the plastic to wash his cock within its confinement.
Michael recalled Mistress Katie’s instructions from her last visit. He had been ordered to be naked, with wrist and ankle manacles in place, blindfolded, and, with his cock already caged, laying on Domina’s king-size bed. He lay on the bed, listening, as Mistress Katie had let herself in with the key Domina had given her. She had only to clip the straps on the four corners of the bed to his manacles to secure him for teasing. And then she had played with her bound slut, teasing him and his caged cock as she rode his tongue to two delightful orgasms for herself. Finally, before she released him from his bondage, Mistress Katie had removed the lock from his cage and replaced it with that devilish little plastic tag.
Michael’s cock throbbed in its cage as he thought of Mistress Katie’s teasing. He wondered if he was going to be released during this visit, or if it would lead to a further period of chastity. Either way, he found the anticipation arousing in itself, and he would submit to Mistress Katie’s desires.
Michael’s ears perked up when he heard the front door close. Mistress Katie’s heels clicked on the wood floor as she came down the hall into the master bedroom. He remained still and silent as she wordlessly secured him to the bed with the four straps, snapping each one onto his wrist and ankle manacles and ensuring they were tight enough to satisfy her preferences. Once that was done he felt her lower herself onto the bed beside him.
“Hello slut,” she whispered, “did you miss me?”
“Yes Mistress,” Michael replied.
“I bet you thought about me playing with your cock, didn’t you?”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied hoarsely, “I did.”
“Have you been good enough to deserve cumming today?”
“I have tried to behave Mistress, but it is your decision if I have been good enough.”
“Mmmmm, that’s right,” Mistress Katie chuckled, “and I haven’t quite decided yet. Perhaps we’ll see how much fun I can have with you first.”
Michael moaned softly as he felt Mistress Katie’s fingertips slowly explore his chest. As her fingertips circled his nipples, his chest rose to meet her touch. She smiled, unseen by him, as she teased and pinched each nipple, her pussy moistening at his submissive reaction to her alternating gentle and stern touches.
Without warning Mistress Katie stopped and rolled away from her bound slut. Easing herself off the bed she slipped her heels off so that Michael could not track her movements around the room by their clicking heels. Working quickly, she opened her bag and brought out the things she needed for her plan. Some items she placed between Michael spread legs; others went on a chair at the foot of the bed. Michael’s only clue that something was going on was hearing water being run in the en-suite bathroom until, as a final preparatory step, Mistress Katie slipped off his blindfold.
Michael looked up at his dominant Mistress. She stood beside the bed, dressed in a set of pale blue nurse’s scrubs. In one hand she held the blindfold she had just removed from his eyes, and in the other a pair of bandage scissors.
“You’ll see,” she announced, “that I intend to cut the tag and remove your cage. I do expect you to behave and there will be no cumming without permission. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” Michael responded quickly.
“And you may be wondering,” she continued, “why I am dressed like this. It’s because we have some maintenance to do before we play. You just need to be quiet, lie still and let me work.”
With that she turned and moved to the foot of the large bed. Sitting between his legs she leaned forward and he listened as the heavy scissors snapped the heavy plastic strap on the locking tag. Michael moaned softly as he felt Mistress Katie dismantle and remove the chastity cage from his cock. She placed the pieces of the cage on the Mattress as she removed them.
Working quickly, Mistress Katie caught Michael’s eye as the cage itself slid off his cock. She held up a sturdy metal ring, only one inch across and then slid it over the head of his growing cock to rest in the groove just behind the head. Following two days of confinement; the release from the cage, her warm hands on his cock, and his growing arousal meant his cock was quickly straining to reach a full erection. Michael gasped as he felt the tight ring encircling the head of his straining cock. He moaned and his body quivered as he felt Mistress Katie’s fingernails stroke gently across the sensitive head.
“There we go,” she said, “that should be tight enough to keep you from dripping for now, and it won’t be on long enough for us to worry about circulation. But, we do need to take care of this stubble before we do anything else.”
Michael moaned as he felt a warm wet cloth wrap itself around his balls. The nurses’ scrubs Mistress Katie wore were her own, and she demonstrated a practised hand as she lathered and shaved his pubic area, his balls and down between his upper thighs. As she finished her task, Michael moaned again as she massaged a gentle cream into his newly smooth skin. He watched as a she leaned over to inspect his cock.
“See,” she said, “not a drop leaked out.”
Michael watched as she delicately kissed the tip of his cock with her bright red lips.
“Now,” she continued, “give me a minute while I clean up here.”
Michael tried to relax on the bed as Mistress Katie put away her shaving supplies. The cool air on his drying skin had its own erotic feel and his cock continued to strain against the tight ring behind its head. He turned his head when he heard Mistress Katie’s heels once again on the floor. The clicking sound as she moved about the room was a reminder of her dominant position, and his place under her control.
Mistress Katie returned to the bedside, her appearance now greatly changed. She wore a tight black leather corset with white striping down each of the lines where the corset’s internal boning lay, and a tidy row of white buttons ran down the centre front of the corset. Beneath the corset was a short grey skirt reaching to mid-thigh, and bare legs showed beneath the skirt’s hem.
As Michael watched, she reached down to unsnap the bondage strap from the manacle on his left wrist. Mistress Katie went around the bed releasing him she gave him is next instructions.
“I want you standing at the foot of the bed once you are free. Hands behind your back, and no talking.”
Michael moved as ordered as soon as the last snap came free. He stood at the bottom centre of the bed, about a foot from the edge of the mattress with his feet spread and his hands behind him as ordered. Mistress Katie moved to slide between him and the bed to sit on the edge of the mattress. The sensitive head of his hard cock brushed against her corset as she moved into her own position and he bit back an involuntary groan as she sat down directly in front of him. Michael looked down at her large soft breasts as they bulged deliciously over the top of her tight corset. He gasped as he felt Mistress Katie’s hands grasp his balls and gently tug them downwards.
“Now,” she said, “what are we going to do with you?”
“Well, first, I guess,” she continued, “we’ll have to take this ring off.”
Mistress Katie slid one hand down to grasp tightly around the base of Michael’s hard cock. With the other strong hand she gripped the tight metal ring and popped it off over the head of his cock. She chuckled as a sudden flood of pent up precum flowed out over her fingers. She then smiled as she reached up to slip the ring between Michael’s lips.
“Clean that up slut,” she directed.
Michael sucked his juices from the ring as he watched Mistress Katie consider her dripping fingers and then wipe them across the tops of her soft breasts. She then picked up an open condom wrapper from the bed beside her and unrolled the condom over Michael’s hard cock. Next she took a stretchy silicone cock ring and, stretching it to a sufficient width, slid it over his cock to the base of the condom. A second silicon ring went around his cock just behind the head replacing, but not as confining as, the metal ring. Lastly, she picked up a handful of elastic hair bands and, one by one, stretched them over his balls to constrain and stretch his scrotum until there was a layer of elastic an inch wide holding his balls away from is body. While each hair band might not provide much restrain, in sufficient numbers they created a presence that would not be easily ignored.
“There,” Mistress Katie pronounced, “that should contain those messy drips for now.”
“Kneel slut,” she directed, and Michael lowered himself to his knees between Mistress Katie’s thighs.
Feeling her warm thighs against his sides, he watched his Mistress and waited as her fingers again explored his hard nipples. Eventually she reached up and took the metal ring from his mouth.
“Good boy,” she said, “now you still have some messy drips to clean up.”
Instinctively, Michael looked at her breasts, his eyes following the wet streak she has spread across her bosom. Obediently, he let her guide his mouth to her soft skin and diligently licked up his precum, sucking gently at her skin to clean up every drop. Carefully, thoroughly, Michael licked up every drop of his smeared drippings. As he submitted to her desires he felt his cock throbbing in its latex confinement and he felt each drop of precum as his muscular contractions forced it past the tight rings.
“Very good slut, but you missed some.”
Michael searched her breasts for the missing droplets. Not finding any, his eyes rose to meet Mistress Katie’s, a questioning look on his face.
Smiling, she raised a finger up, indicating a readiness to point it out. His eyes followed that finger as it crossed to the centre of her breasts, slid down her cleavage to the top of the corset, and continued downward. Michael watched as she indicated a long wet line that ran down the inside of her right calf and ended at her instep.
“Finish your job,” she said.
Obediently, Michael lowered himself until he could start licking his juices from Mistress Katie’s leg. With her guidance as she directed him lower and lower, he ended up laying on the floor as he cleaned her right instep with his tongue.
“Much better,” Mistress Katie announced as he finished cleaning her foot of his drippings, “and since you have been so good with your tongue so far, we will continue with your oral training. But first, kneel on the bed.”
She moved to one side as Michael stood and moved forward to kneel on the edge of the bed. Mistress Katie instructed him to lean forward on hands and knees, and then gently spread his knees even wider. She caressed his hard cock through the confining condom and cock rings, smiling as she saw the dripping precum already starting to collect in the reservoir tip. She teased his balls, stroking her fingernails across the stretched smooth skin as Michael quivered under her touch.
He froze as he felt Mistress Katie’s hands slide over his ass. Her thumb slid down his crack and he moaned as she gently massaged his anus with the ball of her thumb.
“We wouldn’t want to be ignoring slut’s needs here, would we?” she asked.
“No Mistress,” Michael responded.
He remained in position as he listened to Mistress Katie moving around the room. The rustling sound, he guessed, was her looking through his toy bag for an appropriate toy. The snap of an opening squeeze bottle cap told him that she had made her choice.
The lube was cool and soothing as she massaged it into his ass, her finger gently opening him for the toy. Then, he felt the blunt head of the plug pushing against his sphincter. He moaned softly as it slipped inside, his submission and need relaxing the muscles enough for an easy insertion. Michael breathed deeply as he felt the larger head slip past the ring of muscle and then the shaft of the plug held him open as its bottom flange came to rest against his skin.
“There,” Mistress Katie said cheerily, “everyone loves a nicely plugged slut, it helps to remind them to behave themselves when their asses are filled.”
Wiping her hands on a handy towel. Mistress Katie moved to climb on the bed in front of her kneeling slut. Having removed her skirt, she was naked from the waist down as she made herself comfortable while he watched. Michael licked his lips as she spread her legs and her smooth shaven pubes revealed the wetness of her pussy.
“God,” Mistress Katie, groaned, “I have been waiting for this. Now lick me slut.”
Obediently, Michael lowered his hungry tongue to his Mistress’ wet pussy. Delicately, he stroked the tip of his tongue along each of her pussy lips, following them from bottom to top. After reaching the top of his second slow stroke, the tip of his tongue softly circled his Mistress’ clit.
Mistress Katie groaned deeply. She grabbed her slut’s head with both hands. Her legs opened even wider and her hips raised as she pushed his mouth between her wet lips.
“I said lick my pussy slut!,” the urgency of her need overwhelming her personal control.
Michael thrust his tongue deeply between Mistress Katie’s pussy lips. He heard her hiss of pleasure as her juices coated his tongue and ran down his chin. Again and again he thrust with his tongue, fucking her hot pussy as deeply as he could as she held his face tight to her pussy. Moving upwards he wrapped his lips around his Mistress’ hard clit. Sucking and licking, he felt her whole body stiffen as her first orgasm washed over her body.
Michael steadied himself, licking faster, as Mistress Katie’s hands flew off his head and, outstretched, gripped the bedclothes tightly. He lapped at her pussy lips as she rode out her orgasm. Then, as Mistress Katie regained control he felt her hands on his head once more.
“Again,” she ordered, as she pressed his mouth tightly against her pussy again.
Michael diligently began licking his Mistress’ pussy again. With long slow strokes, his tongue spread her lips and he began lapping at her sweet juices. As his chin once more started dripping with his Mistress sweet juices, Michael slip upwards to gently suck on her had clit. Feeling and hearing her responses, he carefully offered her more of those actions that brought the strongest responses from her. An he knew his tongue was on target as her hands gripped the back of his head and she began riding her pussy against his mouth. Michael thrust his tongue between Mistress Katie’s lip as she came, her lips pressed hard against his, and her juices flowed into his mouth to coat his tongue with their flavour.
Mistress Katie groaned deeply as her second orgasm subsided. She pushed her slut’s mouth away from her sensitive pussy and struggled to slow her breathing. As she relaxed she drew Michael up to lay beside her. As he moved into the position she directed, she fed one erect nipple into his mouth.
“Suck gently,” she whispered.
Michael followed her gentle instruction as he felt her fingers wrap around his latex clad cock. Softly she gripped and stroked his erection, enough to maintain his arousal and frustration, but not sufficient to bring him any closer to his own desired orgasm.
Michael softly sucked his Mistress’ nipples, alternating between them as she pulled one from his lips only to replace it with the other. As she fed him her hard nipples, she continued to toy with his dripping cock, keeping it hard and occasionally stroking it between her fingertips to milk the precum from the shaft into the condom’s tip.
Mistress Katie took the tip of the condom between her fingertips. Smiling, she felt the slippery precum inside the tip as she worked it between her fingers, he mind imagining the ways she might feed these collected juices to her horny slut. But first, she thought, it was time to add to the drippings in the condom’s tip.
“Enough my little slut,” she announced, “I want you back on your knees.”
As Mistress Katie slid off the bed, Michael rolled onto his hands and knees. With knees spread and feet at the edge of the bed, he exposed himself to his Mistress’ view and touch. Mistress Katie walked slowly to the foot of the bed. She examined her slut as she decided her next move. Gently, she reached out to caress her slut’s exposed ass. As Michael moaned in response to her touch, one hand slid down to grip his exposed balls below the elastics holding them away from his body.
“Quiet slut,” she instructed, “or I’ll find something to gag you with.”
“Yes ma’am,” Michael whispered in response, determining to obey his Mistress.
Michael strained to remain quiet as Mistress Katie continued to massage his tight balls. Her other hand stroked his ass and her fingertips slid up and down the crack of his ass. Gently she pressed the plug deeper into his ass, alternating with gripping the edges of its base to twist it in the tightness of his bottom.
“It’s time for something more interesting here, I think,” Mistress Katie said.
Michael held his position as he felt Mistress Katie move off the bed. He listened to her rummage around in the toy bag