"What do you want to do?" she asked, her gaze silently urging him to make the right choice.
He studied her face and smiled understandingly. Her green eyes widened.
"How about a drive?" he suggested.
"Yeah, let's do that," she replied.
He'd gotten it right.
She glanced at him, recognizing the quiet pride in his expression. He's always trying to please me, she thought, a small smile tugging at her lips.
As they buckled into the car, she watched him with a sense of amusement, like he was going to be her main source of entertainment. Her plaything. Her eyes locked on his strong hands adjusting the mirror and clicking the garage door opener. She imagined his hands with thick straps wrapped around his wrists, raised above his head, tied to the bedframe.
He would be powerless.
She smirked, as she reached over and ran her hand up his leg.
His hand moved from the gear shift and covered hers, giving it a quick squeeze.
He looked over and met her eyes. "What" he asked, half-laughing. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking about tying you down to the bed, taking your cock and making it mine. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."
He shifted in his seat and pulled at his jeans, adjusting himself. Then he reached over and slid his hand up her thigh. She smiled and pushed it away.
"Don't touch me," she said.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"I can't touch you?"
"Not right now."
"But I want to."
"That's too bad."
"Can I touch myself then?"
"No. Just keep both your hands on the wheel and drive."
"You're a cruel little slut."
"Don't worry," she said. "You'll get what's coming to you."
And then he did as he was told. He drove them around. They talked and listened to music. He looked over at her every chance he could. And with each look, his cock throbbed.
By the time they got home, he was a mess. His body was wound tight with a mix of tension and desire. He felt achy and brimming with excitement.
"My cock is so full mistress. I want to show you my cum." he said.
She didn't answer. She smiled, then reached over and tugged at the side of his jeans, pulling the fabric tight to reveal his hard cock poking through.
After a minute, he asked, "Please, may I show you my cum, mistress?"
"Be patient. Don't ask me that again. You will have to do everything I say before I even touch you there. I'm going to tie you to the bed first to make sure you don't squirm away from me. Now go set up the bed."
He nodded, his face tense, his body rigid. He was already in agony and she hadn't even begun.
"Yes, mistress," he replied, stepping out of the car.
He went inside, his erection rubbing against the front of his jeans with each step.
He tried to adjust his stance so the fabric wasn't pressing on him, but it didn't work.
He tried hard to focus on his task but as he clipped the straps to the bed, he couldn't help but imagine what his mistress was planning.
When she came into the room, she found him laying in his boxers with his arms extended across the top of the mattress, palms facing the ceiling. Ready for his punishment.
She walked over and latched the strap around his wrist.
"Good boy." she said, pulling the strap tighter. "Now the other one."
She walked around to the other side of the bed and strapped him down.
"Spread your legs."
He parted his legs and she slipped a strap between his thighs and around his ankles. Then she secured him in place.
"Now let's see how long you can go without squirming. I'm going to gentle tease you over your boxers and when you can't control yourself, I'm going to punish you."
"I can't hold my cock still mistress." he whimpered.
"You can or I will trap it and force it to be still," she replied, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between his legs.
"My balls are so tight and full. They need to cum, mistress."
"Well they'll just have to wait."
She began stroking him lightly, running her fingertips up and down the shaft, avoiding the head of his cock, tracing the shape of his balls, pressing her finger gently over his asshole.
He moaned and his cock flailed against his boxers. Precum began to seep through the fabric, slowly spreading outward, the dampness gradually darkening the cloth.
"You're making a little mess already, aren't you?" she said, condescendingly.
"I'm sorry mistress, I can't hold my precum in."
"Shut up. You're pathetic."
He closed his mouth and she continued.
His cock twitched and jerked uncontrollably while she teased him gently. As his boxers grew wetter, the precum became more obvious.
It was hard to keep from smiling, so she didn't try.
"Look at this, you're practically gushing," she said, rubbing her fingers gently over the growing stain.
"It's embarrassing," he moaned.
"Oh no, I don't think you're embarrassed enough.. but you will be," she replied, pressing her palm firmly down, applying steady pressure to hold his cock in place, the flailing movement beneath her hand stilled by her grip.
He let out a soft whimper and tried to wiggle his hips away, but her grip was firm.
"Are you ashamed that your cock is leaking for me when I've hardly touched it?"
He nodded, his face flushed.
"Tell me."
