Road...trip

We are going on a road trip tonight. You come to pick me up for our drive and you're wearing ​those pants. ​​​​The jeans that hug all of you and strain so enticingly against your bulge.

I struggle to make eye contact because immediately all I can think about is your cock in my mouth. I tell you as much, "Please, I won't ask for anything else tonight, Master, I just want to suck your cock."

You chuckle, attach my collar and leash, and guide me to the car. Once the door is closed you tie my leash to the door handle and I realize I can't move my head closer to you. I try not to be hurt that I can't service you right away.

When we stop for a train to pass, you reach over and grab my hand. Guiding it with your palm, you trail my hand over the erection straining against your jeans, squeezing my hand, squeezing the cock I want so much. I moan uncontrollably and you stop immediately, and clip my bracelet cuffs to my collar.

When we stop to get gas, you come over to my door and open it, my head falls forward as my leash is pulled. I have a split second to wonder whether people can see me before you shove my face against your bulge, roughly dragging it across your arousal, the smell intoxicating as my nose is forced into your crotch and I try to open my mouth, breath hot and moist, as if to please you through the denim. The pump stops, you push me back into the car and close the door

The ride is taking forever, and while I'm getting very sleepy as the sky turns pitch, my arousal doesn't go away. The car is quiet besides the radio turned on low.

After a while we get too far away from the city to get the local stations and even the music stops. You pull off to the side of the road, walk to my side. Roughly you take off my pants and underwear, untie my leash from the door, and drag me onto the dew covered grass. I follow you on, stumbling with my wrists still at my neck. The grass is cold and tickles against my bare thighs.

"I figure it was time for a piss break. So piss, pet. I don't need you making more of a mess in my car than your neediness already has." I do have to go really bad. But this is so embarrassing! And exposed! And dehumanizing! And I whimper on fear and hesitation. Though, if I'm being honest the whimpering is less a protest and more looking for reassurance. I've wanted you to treat me like this, but it's still new, and I'm nervous.

You know this. Grabbing my face, squeezing my cheeks, I hear you unbutton your pants as you command me to "do it. NOW."

Once I can pee, I do. In a big stream, on my knees, in the grass like an animal. I'm not sure how much of my face you can see but I hide it anyways as I blush.

You unzip your fly. This is it! This is the moment! Finally Masters cock!

And then it starts to rain. Warm liquid that gets cold very quickly in the night air. Hitting my face, dripping down my chest. My eyes close automatically and in my mind I see our scene clearly. That perfect cock in those perfect jeans is using me as a urinal. Me, shirt now drenched, half naked animal on a leash on the side of the road. Used and dirtied.

I smile though. Because I've been put in my place. And I place is at your heels, at your service, as whatever object or toy you need. You light up a cigarette as your piss dries on my face. My shirt is still soaked when you're done so you use the switchblade in your pocket to cut it off and throw it in the ditch before reloading me into the car.

Every time I fall asleep you wake me back up with a slap to my face or another sensitive part. So not only am I awake but I'm kept aroused and submissive. But I know we're arriving soon. And there are people inside that building who will want to see us. So our time is coming to an end. I hope I've made you happy tonight, Master.

As we near the driveway, you turn your lights off and drive lowly. When you pull up, no one notices yet. You reach over to unclip my leash and wrists, so I turn to the glove box for my replacement clothes and in the corner of my eye I see you move back your seat.

You slide it all the way back, leaning the back support down, and unfurl a very hard, glorious cock. My mouth drops open, my eyes get wide, and my breath is ragged. "Now." Your voice is stern and low.

I do not hesitate. My mouth engulfs you with a thankful moan and I feverishly begin my work. I hollow my cheeks, flatten my tongue against your seam, and give extra attention to your head each time I come up for air. Until you decide I don't get any air. My throat becomes your fleshlight as you grab a chunk of my hair to guide my head. You take what you need and I can already tell I'll have bruises in the morning deep in my throat and mouth. My drool coats you in strings, dripping down my chin. At one point you hold my head so just the tip is in my gaping mouth. As I look up at you with heavy, adoring eyes, you wiggle my head on your cock like a bobblehead and laugh at how pathetic I am in your hands.

When you get to the edge you force my mouth open with your fingers prying apart my cheeks. You tell me to use my hands and work for it. I can't suck or swallow your cum as it enters my mouth. I just act as a receptacle, a dump, as each stream lands, on the roof of my mouth, my tongue, the very back of my throat. I feel like one of the gun games at a carnival. And I shudder in pleasure after this perfect road trip.