I heard a chain, and the collar pulled me down putting me on my hands and knees, dragging me, and making me crawl on the cold floor. She then stopped and pulled me up, making me stand up.
“Climb on the table,” she ordered putting my hands on the edge.
I run my fingers tentatively, trying to imagine its shape and size. It was a high table standing just below my chest. My climb wasn’t graceful. I jumped up holding my body up on my fully extended arms, and then, all leverage lost, all I could do was put my torso down and slither until I could stabilize myself on the table. Then it became even more complicated, as my dick was preventing me to move forward any further.
“On your knees,” she said when I finally made it up.
As I got on all fours, she yanked down the chain pulling my head to the surface. I heard a click and realize, the collar was now locked in there. She then took my arms and put them on my back, tying them together; she was wearing gloves.
I was way in over my head. I had never tied or been tied, I had never ‘sucked’ anything phallic, and I’ve never blindly (pun intended) followed orders. And yet, I, unfortunately, suspected I hadn’t seen the worst of it.
Something else wrapped around my wrists and pull my arms high. I tried to move my torso up to compensate, but the lock on the collar was firm and wouldn’t budge. I struggled for a few seconds finally finding a position that was tolerable.
Next went my legs. She started pulling them apart, and when I didn’t collaborate, she slapped my balls. The pain shot up from my groin, making me curl which, in turn, pulled my arms out of position. It took again a few moments to find a bearable stance and when I did, and she started pulling at my leg again, I did my best to assist. She locked in place both ankles and knees, as far open as my legs would go.
I had never felt so vulnerable, and although lust was still winning the fight, fear was slowly taking the stage.
A soft touch tickled my neck. It felt like a feather, but maybe a bit thicker, very pleasant in any case. It runs from my neck to my shoulders, then down my spine. It moved for a bit to my side, which tickled me badly, but then it came back to the center. Creeping down it continued, doing some passes on my open wide asshole, then my balls, and finally my cock. As far as I could tell, my cock had been completely hard during the whole ordeal, but now, somehow, it felt harder. A mind-numbing feeling invaded me, as, after all the anticipation, I was getting ready to cum.
And then it was gone. Frustration grew in me, second after second not being touched.
Then she took off my blindfold. As my eyes focused, I see her standing in front of me, wearing a tight vinyl suit that covered all of her skin from the neck down, ending up on a different set of high heel boots.
Smiling, she waved a thick black feather in front of my face. She opened a zipper in her crotch and started touching herself. Two fingers came up, wet and shiny over the vinyl gloves. She smeared her juices under my nose and over my lips; it was intoxicating.
“Last chance. Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
“No going back. Will you obey?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Good boy, Buddy,” she added condescendingly. “Open your mouth.”
She put something in, then closed my chin and asked me to swallow. I did. It was a pill, and I had just swallowed it without much thought.
“What was that?”
“That was a blue warranty of night-long fun,” she jested.
Viagra. I could crack open fucking nuts with my dick right now, and she gave me a Viagra.
“Don’t worry Buddy. You’ll be ok,” she mocked as she caressed my hair.
I now had a partial vision of the table I was on. It was full of implements and mechanisms, most of them I had no idea what they were for.
At the push of a button, the table started lowering. It startled me, and for a frightening second I thought it’d rip my arms apart, but, thankfully, whatever they were tied to was going down too. It went on until my face was right by the open zipper in her crotch, and I thought I could feel heat coming out of it transporting her inebriating essence.
She left me again. I couldn’t move my head enough to follow her around the room.
“What’s your name?” I ask stupidly as if in that situation it mattered at all.
“You don’t need to know that Buddy. Address me as Mistress,” she responded from behind me, as the plastic glove grabbed my cock.
Her grip was firm, maybe even excessive as she slowly stroked my shaft, her glove covering it from base to tip.
“What a little dick you have,” she said laughing, “fitting for that tiny body I guess.”
I had never had any complaints about my size. Praise neither, yes, I didn’t fool myself, but I thought it was adequate. It was embarrassing and offensive. It was insulting, but the steady massage after so many hours of build-up didn’t allow my brain any thoughts other than pleasure and anticipation.
She sped up and my body started tensing up, preparing for what would be the greatest orgasm of my life. I could feel it coming, waiting to explode, but she stopped. I groaned, and she rewarded me with another slap on my very exposed balls.
“Patience, dog.”
She waited a few seconds, and as if she knew when the pain was starting to subside, she started stroking me again, only to stop when I was about to cum.
My breathing started to feel choppy, but this time I kept my mouth shut.
She massaged my things, a mix between the pleasure of the firm touch and the pain of some of some the hair being ripped by her gloves, I thought for a second that that would do me. She moved up to my ass cheeks, caressing them and slapping them, hard, making a loud sound and, I’m sure, leaving a five fingers mark.
Then, her finger started toying with my ass. Outside of it, anyway. It moved in circles, up and down, soft and careful. It was a pleasant tickle, although the novelty of it, I think, made me clench. Cold wetness, slid down my crack, and before I had time to realize what it was, her finger made its way into me. I jerked, and she rewarded me by grabbing my balls with her other hand. It wasn’t painful, yet, but the threat was clear. If I did something she didn’t like, she’d effortlessly crush them and I’d be left crying. So I exhaled, I tried to relax as the strange feeling took over me. I couldn’t see how far she was going, but I could feel the different widths of her knuckles as they pass through, and finally, the rest of her hand pressed on my cheeks when her finger was all the way in. She kept moving in and out, letting my balls go to apply, what I now knew, was more lube.
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She pulled out and started again with what must have been a different finger. The middle one, if I had to bet. This time it didn’t take long until she was all the way in. Then she started, pushing two fingers, at first making me feel very uncomfortable, like something wasn’t supposed to happen like that, but it seems she knew what she was doing, and soon enough, two of her fingers were fucking my ass, this time, coming hard in and out. She’d stroke my shaft every now and then, each of the times making me hold my breath ready to be done, but she’d always know when to stop and leave me hanging.
It made me wonder what she was waiting for. I could imagine when it came, it’d be the greatest orgasm I could imagine, but why did she work so much for it? Was it only that she was having fun?
“Oh my. You filthy boy, what a mess you’re making here. Let me show you.”
She wiped the table and put the messy tissue right in front of my eyes.
“See the grooly mess you are making on my table. Here hold this,” she said mockingly lecturing.
She opened my mouth with two fingers and put the tissue inside. There was an explosion of unwelcome flavors in my mouth. First, her fingers, which I was pretty sure were the ones she was using in my hand, and then my… precum? Wrapped in a paper that would inevitably melt.
She knew this, of course, which is why, before I could react, put a ball gag in my mouth and closed it tight on the back of my head.
“Don’t swallow,” she added laughing. “If you can.”
And back she went, straight to my cock. She’d stroke it a couple of times, let it go, then five times, wait a few seconds, only once, six times really slow; keeping me on the edge for the entire time, but unable to go. She would stop to slap my butt cheeks or my thighs and continue making comments about how small my dick was. My whole body tightened and shook every time I neared the end, making my nostrils flare due to my mouth being gagged. I was desperate.
She grabbed the base of my cock with two fingers and started rubbing my frenulum with another. It was the first time she did this and although it wasn’t pleasant per se, it was doing the job. Again, my breath sped up, and every last muscle of my body tighten as she methodically and tenderly slid her finger on my tip; It was coming, and she wasn’t stopping. As a numbing pleasure built, her hands drop my member immediately. I tried to move, touch anything, the table even, so it could finally push me over. I started ejaculating, feeling the warm goo being ejected, but no pleasure, no relief, just an even bigger disappointment and desperation taking over me, clouding, even more, my already maimed will, all while she loudly laughed.
She undid my gag. I spat some of the few pieces of tissue I hadn’t already, unwillingly, swallowed.
“Please,” I begged almost inaudibly.
She slapped my face violently; My cheek started to burn immediately.
“I said address me as Mistress. I don’t like repeating myself.”
She waited.
“Yes, Mistress,” I answered finally.
“Better. Now, eyes, ass, or mouth?” she said showing me a handkerchief absolutely drenched in cum.
My first instinct was to answer ‘none’, but I immediately realized that would only bring me pain and either make me choose again or let it up to her. That was, concerning. Of course I didn’t want that in my eyes, it’d sting and possibly even give me an infection. The idea of having it in my butt, the very fact of introducing it in my butt, was unthinkable. I didn’t want it in my mouth either, but I already had the bad taste of the tissue, so I imagined, it was clearly the lesser evil.
“Mouth,” I mumbled, my eyes downcast.
She slapped my other cheek. Now both of them were raging.
“Mouth, Mistress,” I added almost sobbing.
She put the handkerchief in my mouth. The feeling was completely different from that of the tissue. Warmer, thicker, messier, and with a much more intense taste. I gagged but managed to get a hold of myself.
“I won’t cover your mouth,” she said, “but keep it in there.”
She left again. My cock was still hard. I wasn’t sure if due to the ruined orgasm, the Viagra, or a little of both, but it hadn’t softened in the least.