After sharing some wine and small talk about our week, I told J to go upstairs, undress, fetch his collar, and meet me in my office.
I put the wine glasses on the counter and went upstairs after him. As soon as I was in the office, I slipped off my panties under my skirt and stashed them in one of the desk drawers. I powered up my computer and opened a document with a longer piece of erotica I’ve been working on.
I heard footsteps in the hallway and J appeared a few moments later, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway. There’s nothing like an impossibly tall, impossibly naked man with downcast eyes, eagerly offering a tiny strip of leather that will be his only clothing for the rest of the evening.
J offered me his collar, and in the smallest, sweetest voice, he asked permission to wear it.
“In a minute,” I said. “Come here and turn around.”
I took the collar from him, set it on the desk, and he turned away from me. From the organizer next to the monitor, I got a couple of wide velcro ties–the kind I use to wrap excess computer cables.
“Hands,” I said, and he immediately crossed his wrists behind him. I wrapped one wrist, secured his other wrist to that one, and then wrapped both with a couple of extra ties. It wasn’t very secure, but it was good enough.
When I picked up his collar, he heard the metal clinking and dropped to his knees. I fastened his collar (my collar) around his throat, leaned forward, and kissed my way across his shoulder and slowly up his neck. With my lips barely touching his ear, I whispered to him.
“I’m going to read you a story. Would you like to hear a story?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I would like to hear a story.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed his ear, biting him once, hard, before releasing him. His gasp made my cunt ache–I had been waiting to see him all week and now, I was getting uncomfortably wet.
“Good boy. Turn around please.”
While he shuffled on his knees to face me, I explained,
“I’m writing out a fantasy of mine, but I’m not sure what to do with some of it. I’m hoping you can help me figure it out.”
I turned to the computer screen and read aloud, setting the scene and describing the characters to J. The story was set in a home where the Dominant went out to work during the day and the submissive boy was left home to do chores, run errands, and prepare dinner. When she returned home, they had dinner, and then she expected her boy to help her finish her work. The Dominant enjoyed working at the computer while her boy was was bound and naked, tied to a chair next to her desk… I stopped reading and looked down at J.
“I’m not sure whether he should be gagged or not? I mean, I’d enjoy having my boy gagged, but if he was gagged, he wouldn’t be much help. He’d only be able to nod or shake his head in response to her questions…. Darling, do you think he should be gagged?”
“Yes Ma’am. Her boy should be gagged.”
I tilted my head in mock hesitance, pretending to think it over.
“I just don’t know… I’m not sure if that will work for the story. Let me see.”
I retrieved my panties from the desk drawer and dangled them in front of J’s face. He leaned in and inhaled deeply. I balled them up, touched them to his lips, and he opened his mouth to receive them. Admittedly, my panties were a poor gag, but I stuffed them into his mouth anyway.
J rested his head on my thigh and I continued reading, getting to the part where the Dominant in the story liked to pinch and tug at her boy’s cock when she was stuck on something. It was almost mindless to her–distracting herself with her hands helped her to think. Unfortunately, depending on the length and difficulty of the project, her boy’s cock would get hopelessly red and sore.
“Darling, will that work in the story? Do you think mindlessly abusing his cock will help her think?”
J hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded in agreement.
“Well then… let me try.”
Without being asked, J rose up on his knees, turned slightly, and offered me his cock, rock hard and dripping already.
“Good boy…” I purred.
I wiped up a glistening pearl of precum with my index finger and brought it to my lips. I waited until he lifted his face to look at me and I slowly licked his juices from my fingertips.
He whimpered, nearly inaudibly.
I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked him for a few moments. My fingers found the tender flesh of his frenulum and I held it lightly between my thumb and index finger. Holding him there, I turned towards the screen and began reading aloud again. I read through a passage where the Dominant twisted and rubbed her boy’s cock raw.
“Should I say she rubbed it ‘raw’ or she rubbed it ‘red’?” I asked. “I’m just not sure…”
With my panties in his mouth, J’s response was muffled: “Raaah… Ra-raaah. Raaah-ah”
I smiled and sunk my nails into his flesh, pulling and twisting at the sensitive skin just below the head of his cock. I twisted and clawed at him until he gasped.
“Raw? Are you sure?”
“Okay. Raw. That’s what I was thinking too.”
I stared at the computer screen and pretended to think it over while I abused his cock. I tugged and pinched until his breathing sped up again. When I let him go, he leaned forward and rested his head on the edge of the desk.
I closed the file and shut down the machine while he caught his breath. I stood, turned towards J, and then I noticed the damp spot I had left on the leather seat. I pushed the chair back a little, bent, and curled my fingers under J’s jaw, forcing him to meet my eyes.
“Working with you turns me on.”
I jerked his head to the right, in the direction of the chair.
“I’m not wearing panties… but you already know that. It’s kind of embarrassing, but I left a little wet spot on the chair…. Do you want it?”
J nodded furiously. I tugged on the scrap of black lace between his lips, pulling my panties out of his mouth. He opened wide, stretching the muscles in his jaw.
“Lick it up,” I commanded, shoving his head towards the chair.
He inched forward on his knees and went at the wet spot with long, deliberate licks. The chair rolled backwards each time he licked it, forcing him to shuffle forwards on his knees to reach it again.
When I was satisfied that he had licked it all up, I waited for him to lean in again and I pulled the chair away. He was left bent awkwardly forward with his tongue hanging out, ready to lap at the empty space where the chair had been.
“Sit,” I said, motioning to the chair that he had just been licking.
He got to his feet awkwardly and sat on the damp chair. He sat up very straight–he couldn’t lean back comfortably as his hands were tied behind him.
I opened another desk drawer and got out a long length of rope I had stashed there earlier.
I threaded the rope through the ring on his collar and passed the ends under and around the supports of the armrests. I dropped the free ends in his lap, sat on the desk in front of him, and slid my shoes off, letting each one fall to the floor with a heavy clunk.
I picked up the rope from his lap, extended my bare foot, and stroked his cock with my toes. I nudged it back and forth, pressed it up against his stomach, tried to catch it between my toes. I stepped down onto the chair, pinning his cock between the ball of my foot and his balls.
After I played with his cock for a little while, I put my feet on the armrests of his chair and pulled him forward. The chair rolled easily on it’s casters, bringing J closer to me.
I planted my feet on the armrests to keep the chair from rolling forward and I pulled on the free ends of the rope. Since it was threaded through the ring on his collar and down around the armrests, the rope pulled his head down toward my lap. I played with the rope for a while, giving quick hard tugs, watching his head jerk forward.
I stopped and pulled slowly this time, forcing J’s head down until his face was inches from my pussy. When he tried to bend the rest of the way to reach me, I let go of the slack and pushed the chair back with my feet until he was just out of reach.
“No, no, no, baby. That’s not how we’re going to going to play this game. You don’t get to lick when you want to lick.”
He sat up again, looking disappointed, but with that strange flash of anxiousness in his eyes that I’ve come to adore.
I pulled him in again and played with the rope while I narrated the rest of the story from memory. I explained to J that the Domme wasn’t getting the help she needed from her boy, that she was stressed with her work and frustrated that her boy wasn’t any help. I told J that the Domme decided to string her boy up, tying him to the chair in such a way that she could pull him in towards her, forcing him to bury his face in her cunt whenever she wanted attention. She had turned her boy into a sort of living, breathing oral service marionette. She could have his mouth when and where she wanted it.
J looked desperate as I toyed with his ropes and summarized the end of the story. Sitting on the desk, I pulled up my skirt just enough so he could see how wet I was, how much I wanted his attention. J looked down at the wetness glistening between my thighs and then back up into my eyes, silently begging.
“Do you think it would work?” I asked. “Could a Domme make her own pussy-licking marionette? Would it even be possible to string a boy in such a way that with just one little pull, he’d be forced to service his Domme?”
I didn’t expect an answer.
I held the chair steady and took up the slack in the rope, drawing J’s face down to my cunt. His body was positioned awkwardly, but his mouth was right where I wanted it. I held the rope tight, leaned back on my arms, and I enjoyed J’s mouth as he serviced his Domme.