Be My Slave

Earlier in the day, I texted you and accepted your offer to entertain me in your home tonight. I don't know what you were expecting, but probably not what I had planned for you...

When you let me in around nine, you look first at my feet- clad in my long black leather boots with their sharp stiletto heels.

"Wow," you murmur appreciatively, letting your eyes walk their way up the boots, hesitating at the pale area above my knees, and taking in my thigh-high belted trench.

I raise an eyebrow at your attire, shirt off with loose-fitting lounge pants. You look down at yourself, seemingly as surprised to see your dark curly chest hair as I am. Not that I mind in the least.

"Oh, looks like I was in a bit of a hurry to get to the door." You smile. "Hope you don't mind if I'm comfortable."

I unbelt my coat and slip it off my bare shoulders. The hall light reflects off my white bustier and I return your smile as I hand you my coat. "No, I don't mind."

You are looking at me now in frank amazement. I know that I do look different from that night that we met at a professional conference. I do try to tone down my appearance at those things. You were confident, a little cocky. Took the lead right from the start. I let you. Not tonight though.

Finally, you recover your manners. "A drink?"

A small smile plays around my lips as I move closer to you. Holding your gaze, I lightly brush your chest with my index finger, my pale pink nail parting the hairs there. "Just a glass of ice, I think."

A little puzzled, a little worried, but also excited... I read it all on your face as you swallow and walk towards the kitchen.

I take a moment to explore your home. Danish modern. Clean, straight lines. That will serve very well, indeed. Practically purring, I move aside some papers on your coffee table and set down my black satchel.

Your blue sofa proves to be more comfortable than it first appears and I settle back into it. I hear your bare feet padding on the bleached oak floorboards.

"I hope you like ABBA," you call out from the end of the hall. I have to laugh as "Fernando" begins to play. You return to the kitchen to pick up the glasses and then make your way back to the living room. Your brown eyes are twinkling and I am still laughing a bit. Honestly, I am surprised not to hear Barry White. I guess that you're not quite as 'slick' as I'd initially thought.

As you seat yourself next to me, you remark on my satchel. "Uh, did you bring over a change of clothes and a toothbrush?"

"No, no, I don't think that we're at that point yet, do you?" I raise an eyebrow, inquiringly.

Hastily, "No!" And then your disarming smile, "But I hope that we will be soon, Michelle."

You lean towards me and I can feel the heat rising from your skin. You really have beautiful eyes. Brown with heavy dark lashes. So different from my own light green ones. Your cheek touches mine first and I smell some cologne, but very light. Our lips meet next. Soft, slow. Oh yes... I remember the way that you kiss. The deceptively innocent beginning building to the hungry mauling. I stop you at the point when your tongue is in my mouth. Not that I mind a mutual mauling. But I did have something else in mind this evening.

I put the palm of my hand on your chest and feel the accelerated rhythm of your heart below. "Wait."

"What's wrong?"

I smile, but answer your question with one of my own. "Do you want to play a game with me tonight?"

Your eyebrows draw together. "What? Like backgammon?"

"Mmmm...no, not like backgammon." I let my hand drop down to your lap, resting it lightly on your erection as I look into your eyes. "I want you to be my slave."

You don't answer for a moment. Actually, I believe that you have stopped breathing. "Oooh..." you finally respond. "Um, okay. Sounds like it might be fun. Uh, you're not going to whip me or anything are you? I'm not really into that kind of thing."

I try to smile reassuringly. "No, no whips in my little black bag. I'm more into domination than pain, sweetheart."

Your eyes brighten. "Sign me up, baby. What do you want me to do?"

I gesture for you to stand up and say, "You won't be needing any clothes, slave. Take off those pants."

You fumble with the drawstring at your waist and slide those flannel loungers over your slim hips to reveal the rest of your delectable body. I am gratified to see that your impeccable grooming extends to your lower region. Your thick cock leads directly down to your hairless balls.

I grin lasciviously. "You're ready for me, I see."

Your hand reaches down to stroke your eager member. "Oh yes, I'm ready!"

I open up my satchel and remove a black eyemask. I toss it to you. "Put this on, slave."

"A blindfold?" A nervous chuckle as you slip the elastic over your head.

When your eyes are covered, I remove the handcuffs. Sometimes they make my partners nervous, so I am careful about my timing. They're metal, of course. I have velcro softcuffs too, but I find the metal ones more exciting. I stroke your arm and run your hand over the satin fabric of my bustier as I pass behind you. With my free hand, I snap the cuffs around your wrists.

You gasp as you feel the weight on your wrists and realize what has happened. I love the surprise, the shock. Softcuffs don't have the same effect at all!

"Alright, slave, I want you to stand where you are, but put your feet wider apart... I want to be able to reach ALL of you..."

You oblige me, but I see the tension in your body- your toes slightly clinched, your breathing shallow. As I circle around to the front of your body, I realize that you look a bit like a military recruit, standing "at ease". A completely naked military recruit... with a blindfold... oh, and I note that your previous "at attention" appendage is also slipping into "at ease". Well, I'll take care of that last bit very shortly.

I reach down to my glass on the coffee table and remove a cube of ice. Gently, I circle the nipples on your chest, listening to the slow hiss of your indrawn breath, as the sensitive skin stiffens into tight peaks. I narrow my eyes, waiting to rebuke you if you step away. But you don't move. I bend slightly forward, touching my tongue to a nipple, covering it like warm velvet. You make a sound. Almost. Deep in your throat, a low throbbing. I move the melting ice, followed by my tongue, down the center of your chest, down your belly, tracing the dark hairline from your belly button lower...

I press my face up between your thighs, your balls lie lightly on my lips, inhaling your scent, my warm breath spreading across the surface of your loose sacs. The low throbbing has moved up through your throat now, become a slightly strangled moan as it passes over your tongue. You press yourself harder against my face.

I pull away sharply,"Don't move, slave. I will do what I want for my own pleasure, not yours."

Returning to my satchel, I remove something small. Feathers. Tiny and bound together. I move the feathers against your tightening balls for long moments before my tongue reaches out to stroke them more firmly. I suck one into my mouth to feel its shape, letting my teeth brush it, but not biting. Above my mouth, I can see your erection. Back at attention.

I straighten up and lead you to the armless chair that I had noticed earlier. I set you down, your hands still cuffed behind you. "I'm very wet, slave. This is your fault," I whisper into your ear.

You listen to the sound of my skirt zipper as I slip out of it. I really am wet. My fingers move between my thighs, brushing my swollen clit, and come out glistening. I smear your lips and then part them with my slippery fingers. I feel your tongue rubbing against them as you suck and have to hold back my own sounds of pleasure.

"I liked that, slave. I will reward you by removing your mask."

You blink rapidly in the the sudden light, your pupils adjusting. I see you take in the sight of me wearing only my white satin bustier and my thigh-high leather boots. My pussy is almost bare... there is only a narrow band of golden red hair curling just above my swollen pink nub. Abba is singing Honey, Honey and it makes me smile again.

I dip my fingers back into my "honeypot" and fold down the top of my bustier. I rub sweetness around each delicate pink nipple. Then I straddle your lap, my nipples millimeters from your mouth.

"Suck them, slave. And use that tongue of yours."

You close your lips around the nearest nipple, sucking hard, then licking and even massaging the very tip, then drawing as much of my breast into your mouth as you can. I can feel the length of your cock between us. I ache for that cock. Leaving my breast in your mouth, I lift up and impale myself on that long hard shaft. I feel rather than hear the sound that you make against my nipple and my arms are wrapped around your head. I rock my hips gently as you continue to suck, enjoying the fullness deep inside of me.

Raising your lips to move to the other nipple, you look up at me, your dark eyes locked onto my own and I am compelled (yes, I cannot call it a conscious decision) to press my mouth onto yours. There is nothing innocent or light about this kiss. It is carnal, even painful, the flesh of our lips pushing into teeth, leaving both of us breathless. I feel less controlled.

Abruptly, I push myself up off your lap and back away, exposing your warm wet cock to the cool air. You grimace, your jaw clenching in frustration. I grab a handful of your curly hair in my fist and yank it upwards.

"Stand now, slave. You have been very obedient and I plan to reward you."

I unlock your cuffs and direct you to your dining room. I gesture to the floor by your heavy oak table. "Lie down and put your arms above your head now, slave."

While you are positioning yourself, I retrieve my black silken cord from the satchel. I bind your wrists and loop the ends around the legs of your table. Your obedience thus far into our game has been impressive. I kneel down by your head and gently tousle your hair with my nails.

"You have been such a good slave. It's your turn now. Do you want to cum?"

"Yes... yes, Mistress."

I lift one eyebrow mockingly as I gaze down on your prone form. "Are you mine to use as I want, slave?"

"Oh yeah. Especially if that means that I get to cum, baby." You smile, starting to relax now, in spite of your vulnerable position on the floor. That cocky confidence is showing itself again. I slap your face, just hard enough to get your attention.

"You forget yourself, slave."

Your eyes register shock. You can't believe that I actually hit you.

I reach out my hand and stroke one finger down your hot, fleshy rod. It trembles and pushes up against my finger, begging me... It knows that it belongs to me.

Lower down, I face you while I run my tongue along the length of your shaft. You can see me if you lift your head off the floor. My disheveled strawberry blonde hair brushes your thighs and my small, tapered fingers touch you. I dip my tongue into your slit, tasting the pre-cum fluid that has escaped. I press your broad head into my mouth and suck lightly, tracing intricate patterns with my tongue on the sensitive skin. My fingers fondle your balls, heavy in my hand.

I push my mouth further down, my lips stretching to your girth, taking you all the way until you press the back of my throat.

You watch me eagerly and I think that I am forgiven for the earlier disciplining. I could take you further, all the way into my throat. I've practiced that, you know. But then you would definitely cum and it is not yet time for that. Instead, I let you slip out of my mouth and I suppress a small laugh as you let the back of your head hit the floor.

"Don't worry, slave," I say fondly. "I will let you cum... eventually. Sucking you really turned me on. I love the taste of your cock in my mouth. But I am your mistress tonight and I cum first."

I move up to your head and raised arms, straddling them. You can smell the leather from my boots and my moist dark scent mere centimeters from your nose.

"I'm going to ride your face until I cum, slave. You're not just going to taste me, you're going to breathe me. And when I finish, you're going to lick my pussy clean."

Normally, I let my partner establish the pace and rhythm of his tonguing. But slaves don't get that option. You probably won't even get your tongue out much. No, this is about using your chin, your nose, and anything else that feels good on my clit to get off. I start off slow, teasing myself, allowing you to lap at me a little with your talented tongue.

But I am pretty hot and it doesn't take long before I'm grinding myself against you, unbearably excited with the knowledge that for long moments my cunt covers both your nose and your mouth. Too soon, for I want this intensity to go on forever, I feel myself peaking. I arch backwards, lifting my face to the light. My release is loud too. I've never been a sexual swearer. Usually, I call out names... my partner's, endearments, or my god's. Looks like I'm praising my god tonight.

With a final shudder of pleasure, I hold myself above your mouth now and allow you to lick the juices flowing from inside me. Your tongue moves deftly between my folds and I appreciate your avoidance of my now-very-sensitive clit. When I am satisfied with your efforts, I move to your side. Your face gleams and I kiss your slippery mouth for a long moment, sucking lightly on your tongue, tasting myself.

"Thank you, slave. You did very well." I came so hard that I saw stars and flashes of light. Not that I'll be sharing that news with my slave, of course.

"Now I will taste you. I think that you must have lots of cum stored up for me by now," I smile crookedly at you and glance meaningfully at your still erect cock.

I have my lips wrapped around your member before you have even finished telling me how ready you are. I swirl my tongue and brush it over your slit. One hand is roughly fondling your tight balls while the other moves firmly up and down your shaft. You are so swollen, the veins pulsing against my palm. I wonder if you're a coffee drinker. Bitter? Or sweet like a thick mead? Maybe something more unusual, like anise. I can't wait to discover the taste of your cum.

My mouth moves down your shaft in a quick, hard thrust and I gag. I didn't have to do it that way, but I find it sexually exciting to hear that sound and judging by your noises, you did too. Back to your head, sucking hard. You begin panting lightly and bucking your hips, trying to thrust deeply into my mouth. I let you in until you can feel my throat muscles pushing against your cock, swallowing.

You thrash beneath me and it is not so easy to keep you firmly inside my mouth. In conjunction with your frenzied movements, you alternate with swearing and telling me what you want me to do with your cock, your cum. I pull back and let my fingers move in.

I want your cum to fill my mouth, not flow quickly down my throat before I get a good long taste of it. My fingers tighten and I slide them more quickly along your length, my lips still around your head. I glance up towards your face. Your cheeks are flushed with color, the cords on your neck are tight, straining for release.

I love this moment. Up until now, I could only guess what you would be like. A sexy, cocky, slightly silly man who seduces with Abba. With a final, surprisingly loud for a man, swear word, you climax. In spite of my precautions, the velocity of that first hot spurt shoots straight to the back of my mouth and I swallow on instinct. Damn.

There is more though, so much more. I feel your cock pumping, still pumping between my fingers as your balls slowly empty. My cheeks expand with your thick cream and I let it pool on my tongue. A little tart, a little fruity... no bitterness at all. You must not be a big coffee drinker.

I swallow a couple of times and come back to your panting, sweating face. I lean over and kiss you again. Your cum flows from my mouth into yours. Our juices mingle along with our tongues. Delicious.

Sitting back on my heels, I trace the sweat on your chest with one finger and smile warmly at you.

"Would you like to be my master the next time?"

*

Copyright, Michelle Fiamma, 2012