Look at you, you lust-drunk little denial slut. So far gone in a haze of your own denial and arousal as I pump in and out of your ass. You can’t even form coherent words anymore, can you? What’s your name? Huh? Yeah, I know. It doesn’t matter. Your new name is now “tease toy”. That’s all there is to it. Now, I’m going to fuck your asshole until I cum, and then it’s back in the belt until next week. Remember: you only have to make me cum 100 times with your mouth in a week to earn the privilege of having your pussy fucked. Pity you lost count last week… better try harder in future.
Slave was coming home much later than usual, and this concerned him. He was not a terribly strict dom, but he had his concerns. And his rules.
She slowly walked into his room, dressed in nothing but one of her negligées. He observed her demeanor from his chair: muscles were relaxed, eyes gentle yet focused, lips together. Her body moved fluidly, without tension or worry. She was not afraid of repercussions tonight.
“And where have you been, Slave?” His voice was calm, almost casual. Whatever her reasoning, it was enough to pique his interest.
A coy grin spread across her deep-red lips. She said nothing as she turned her head, locking eyes with another from behind the doorway.
Within seconds, another woman was in the room with them. A stranger, slightly older than Slave, maybe only three or four years her senior. She carried herself well, a confidence earned, not faked. Her eyes were soft, yet he had the suspicion that staring at them for long enough would make them look strikingly more piercing. She carried all of her curves well, and her low-cut dress revealed what Slave actually locked eyes with seconds ago: smooth, soft, immaculate, deep cleavage.
Slave walked toward her Master and knelt in front of his chair. Her eyes looked up at his, and he immediately recognized a look of excitement on her face that he hadn’t seen in quite some time.
“I…” she stumbled over her words, anticipation on her tongue. “I mean, she…she found me, Master. And I told her what you and I had talked about, and she listened, and she…she told me things. Put things in my head, the way you do. And Master, I…I think I like this one.”
He looked down at his Slave, his happy, wonderful little slave, and then back up at the guest she had brought home, who was still standing by the doorframe. He had been at this for months now, trying to tip his Slave’s bi-curiosity into a realm of erotic possibility. The very image of his Slave’s body against another woman’s, their lips and breasts and pussies and very flesh rubbing and kissing and massaging against each other, never failed to arouse him. It was, for so long, a mere fantasy. She had been nervous, and obviously had every right to be so. She once buried her face in his shoulder, crying, fearful that she was disappointing him. He soothed her that night, insisted that she was continuously making him proud, and dropped the subject altogether for a few weeks.
Still, his fantasy continued to invade his mind, and Slave knew it.
He observed the mysterious woman, and wondered what it was about her in particular that managed to grab hold of his slave’s mind. Was she simply forceful and passionate, or was she patient and kind? Did her eyes lock onto Slave’s and simply melt her mind away? Maybe they simply had a lunch date one afternoon and Slave decided she liked this stranger.
Slave placed her hands on his knees.
“She’s very good at what she does, Master,” she told his slyly. “She can make me hers in a matter of seconds. Almost as fast as you can.”
He felt his erection press against the fabric of his pants.
His Slave stood up and walked behind his chair, draping her arms over his shoulders from behind him.
“I want to show you what she does to me,” she said, close enough to his ear to send goose bumps coursing over his body. Embarrassingly, his heart started beating faster with anticipation. Whoever this woman was, he now had complete faith that she would somehow render his Slave a mindless sex toy for her own perverted physical use.
The woman looked over his shoulder, staring at his Slave, and slowly slid off her dress. Underneath, there was nothing but her body, round and firm and smooth and tanned. The body of a woman who knows who has a firm identity and healthy appetite for sins of the flesh. A singular tattoo poked out from underneath her left breast, but he couldn’t quite make it out. Her breasts, he suddenly realized, were exquisite.
He felt his Slave moan from behind him.
“Mmmm, aren’t they amazing, Master?”
He nodded, quite impressed himself. Round, symmetrical, nipples the perfect size in the perfect location. He glanced back up at the woman’s eyes; she was watching him watch her, her lips curled into a smirk. He’d seen that smirk before, on the faces of his fellow professional doms and dommes as they were about to ensnare their submissives. His heart beat even faster; this woman was going to do a real number on his Slave’s mind and body…
The woman began shimmying, ever so slightly; it didn’t take much movement to get her immaculate breasts to sway back and forth on her chest. Such a subtle shoulder movement, so small that her tits seemed to move on their own by magic. It was a captivating trick, and he allowed himself to grow comfortable in his chair as he focused on them again.
“They’re what first hooked me, too,” Slave said from behind him, her hand slowly moving around her Master’s torso until her palm sat flat against his thigh. “Have you noticed how perfect they are? It’s unbelievable…”
It was a bold claim, but his curiosity got the better of him. He began examining them from afar, looking for any imperfections. Scars, wrinkles, zits, even a birth mark or a mole or even the tiniest of cuts, anything. It was quite tricky to do, of course, since they kept swaying left and right. His pride was getting the best of him; he didn’t want to be an asshole, and he wouldn’t point out the flaws until after the woman had already had her way with Slave, but he wanted to find one nonetheless. He focused harder as Slave’s hand bravely slid to the bulge in his crotch.
“She’s just so pretty, isn’t she?” Slave continued, a smile in her voice. “And she just…took me, Master. Sank me under so deep under her spell…”
“Is that right?”
Staring at the breasts jiggling back and forth was beginning to make him slightly dizzy, despite their rhythmic and gentle motion. It didn’t cause him any stress, of course. In fact, he was starting to remember how comfortable his chair was. He leaned back, slightly resting his neck on the head of the chair, his Slave’s breath against his ear.
“Uh-huh. It happened so fast…my pussy was drenched for her, Master. She knew just what to say, how to say it…how to make me nice and relaxed…”
The world around him started to spin, as if he had simply one drink too many. He faintly heard a buzzing sound from miles away, only to discover that it was his Slave unzipping his pants. The warmth of her hand wrapped itself around his erect cock, and he felt as if he could burst at any given moment.
A thought trickled through his mind, an alarming thought that almost gave him pause: right then, in that moment, he was being extremely vulnerable. His Slave had his cock in her hands as she kneeled behind him, out of sight. Was she being tranced to be such an obedient slut for him? Or was she toying with him, using their mysterious guest as a distraction? It was bold of her. Too bold. She had never acted that rashly in their entire relationship.
It must’ve been the woman’s doing. She must’ve been using her wonderful breasts to trance his Slave’s pretty little brains out. Such a clever idea.
Those breasts. He had been staring at them. Looking for something maybe? He couldn’t remember, didn’t really care. He was probably just admiring them, wasn’t he? They were swaying back and forth in such wonderful tandem, with such impressive grace that he felt compelled to continue watching. Simply to see how long she could keep this elegant performance going.
“She made me cum, Master,” Slave cooed, stroking his cock, which he didn’t think could possibly get any harder. “Over and over, all over her. I was just a puppet to her…she made me hers…with just a few silly words…”
He wasn’t sure what had happened, but the breasts were slowly growing closer and closer to him. He had to really focus his mental energy to realize that the woman was simply walking toward him. Silly thing not to realize, he noticed. It’s just that his brain didn’t really feel right. He felt sluggish, wrong in a certain way, and yet all of this wrongness simply made him feel more relaxed. The room was starting to spin, everything moving with a slight delay, as if they were all underwater or in slow-motion.
And the breasts continued to swing in front of him, over and over, left to right, to and fro, making ripples in the world around him.
The stranger opened her mouth and contorted her lips, but he wasn’t positive that she actually said anything.
Slave’s voice echoed from what seemed like far away, despite him feeling her breath so close against his ear.
“I’m hers now, Master,” she whispered, her voice distorted. The words entered his foggy mind in sequence, but he couldn’t really piece them together.
“And now you are, too.”
The stranger was upon him now, and he felt the heat of her body radiating off of her. Her breasts were swaying so close to his mind that he grew dizzy, the slow, rhythmic motion of the pair enveloping his entire world. He didn’t notice that Slave had stopped stroking his cock, nor that his cock was slowly growing flaccid in his sleepy state. In the back of his head, he recognized that something wet had slid from his lips down his chin, but he didn’t care.
The woman said something, but he couldn’t hear what. He wasn’t even entirely sure if she was addressing him. He couldn’t see her face…maybe she was commanding Slave again. Brainwashing her further, or activating a trigger she had planted long ago. After all, she was the new Mistress, wasn’t she? She could make Slave do anything. As he stared at the swaying breasts, he felt happiness toward the fact that his submissive little girl finally found a woman to play with. Not just happiness; understanding, as well. This woman was powerful. He thought about the possibility of her maybe being as powerful as he was.
He felt a warm touch gently grasp his chin, and the breasts seemed to sway slower than ever. He let the gentle hand guide him, comforted, blissful, too weak to move on his own. More words were spoken, and he felt his lips wrap themselves around a warm nipple, the smooth flesh of the breasts pressed against his cheek. His world went black as he suckled like a deprived infant, and his thoughts disappeared.
Fantastically hot story … I love how he gets taken down without even realizing it, and the description of his experience as he submits one step at a time.
Oh my fucking lord, this presses all kinds of buttons.
Uie's Cage 