Seeing you across the room, facing the wall on your knees, it makes me ache.
"Hands on the wall, boy," I say quietly. "Shoulder's width apart and as high as they'll go. I want to look at you."
You move slowly but comply completely. You press both palms to the wall and slide them up above your head pulling your long body out taut. Your knees are spread about 18 inches and the only thing covering your body is the pair of tight boxer briefs.
I start to move towards you with purpose. The only sounds in the room are your breathing and the sharp click, click of my heels across the hardwood floor. I come to stand directly behind you and I just pause there watching your shoulders as they gently rise and fall with your breath.
"Beautiful," I whisper and before the word even sinks in I reach my right hand up into your hair, grip very tightly and pull your head sharply to the right, stretching your neck out in front of me. I've startled you and so your left hand comes away from the wall for a split second. My mouth goes to your ear, but doesn't graze your skin.
"Get those palms back on the wall, boy," I growl. "Make me punish you before I've been satisfied myself and this will turn out to be a very difficult night for you."
"Yes, Miss," you offer and push both hands firmly against the wall. Both your index fingers are bent slightly to scrape along the plaster and then settle flat. Still gripping your hair in my right hand I wait for your body to settle.
I move my face down your neck and out along your shoulder taking in your scent but still not touching my mouth to your flesh. Just below your left shoulder, right where your triceps meet your torso, I place a small, wet kiss. I feel your body tense beneath my mouth and I smile against you. I begin to nip and suck against your skin as I move slowly to the right across your back leaving a trail of angry, red marks.
When I reach the center of your back I run the flat of my tongue up your spine the few inches to the back of your neck and viciously bite down. At the same time I release your hair with my right hand. But before your head can even fall forward I grab it with my left and pull it to the other side. The wince that skips across your face makes me smile and I revel in how your thumb has flexed to allow the nail purchase to scrape against the wall paint.
I return to my line of demarcation and continue my work across your back, leaving scratches and teeth marks in my wake. When I'm finally done I roughly release my grip on your scalp and watch your head fall forward and hear you exhale fiercely. I take a moment to lick my own lips and savor the salty taste of your skin. My eyes dance back and forth along the marks I've left on you. They make me so wet. I resist the urge to run a soothing hand across the bruising flesh to comfort you.
I move around to your left side and stand quietly. I'm looking at you in profile, your arms up and stretched above my head. Your neck is hung low and your breath is labored. Your eyes are closed. Our faces are almost eye-level with you in this position.
"Sweet boy," I call quietly, not wanting to startle you.
Your eyes flutter open and move to meet mine. I see a hunger there and a fierce need that takes my breath. I pull my energy in tightly around me and stand up straight.
"Let me in," I say glancing toward your arm blocking my path. You immediately move your outstretched left palm from the wall to your chest and allow me to move into the open space between the wall and your body. I press my back to the wall and look you in the face. You instinctively bring both arms down to rest just off the coast of both my shoulders, knowing that regardless of whether I'm playing top or bottom I always prefer to be crowded by you.
Looking at me expectantly you give me the smallest trace of a smile. My cold eyes meet yours. You bring your hands up a few inches to allow you to press your whole forearm against the wall. This brings your body closer to mine. My heart rate reacts appropriately but I keep my body in check and maintain a fiercely detached manner.
"Eyes on the floor, slave," I sneer and you react immediately, tension flowing back into your body.
"That perfect cock between your legs," I ask while my eyes search your face, "is it hard, boy?"
"Yes, Miss," you answer quickly while still keeping your eyes on my tiny black patent-leather pumps.
I move away from the wall just far enough to lean forward and bring my mouth alongside your face. Not a single point of my body touches yours, but I see goosebumps race along your skin nonetheless. I bring my mouth to your right ear and see your eyes struggling to follow the sound of my voice as I whisper to you.
"Whose cock is it?"
"Yours, Miss," you pant.
"That's right. And what shall I do with my cock?" My voice is breathy and innocent.
You clear your throat and answer me, "Whatever pleases you, Miss."
I chuckle to myself as I lean back against the wall. I take my right hand and touch your cheek with the back of my knuckles. Your eyes snap up to me involuntarily. You see my smile and you hold your breath.
"I have plans for you tonight."
Your only response is to swallow hard and fail to blink.
I move my own palms flat against the wall to either side of my hips and give my first command.
"Undress me, boy. It's time to get to work."
You bring your hands down off the wall and let them fall at your side. Your gaze is on my body, moving up and down in expectation. You reach forward tentatively to finger the long pull of the silk bow at my neck. Your eyes move up to mine briefly and I give you a slight nod. You smile sweetly and pull on the tie and then move up to separate the long strips from across my collar bone. Your hands move to the small pearl buttons starting with the top and moving downward. You work your way down to the waistband of my skirt and move to gently untuck the blouse all around. Making quick work of the last of the buttons you slip the cream silk from my shoulders and lay it reverently on the chair immediately to our right. Underneath I'm wearing a white corset and you move your hands to trace the boning over my stomach. Your eyes linger on the swell of my breasts over the lace trimming the top edges.
"Go on," I urge.
You slide both hands around my body to rest along the skirt seam at the small of my back. To do this you almost embrace me and move your body closer to mine. Your face is now poised over my shoulder looking down my back. I smile at you, so engrossed in your task and taking such good care of me. One hand presses to the top of the skirt to hold it steady and the other slides the zipper down over the curve of my ass. You spread the zipper and slide the snug skirt over my hips and bend down almost to the floor to hold it while I step out. You turn and fold the skirt lengthwise and lay it on the chair as well. Your eyes move back to settle on the tiny black panties with white lace trim. The tip of your tongue darts out of your mouth and moves along your top lip.
I want to smother you with my mouth but I decide to give you a treat instead.
"Look at me," I say quietly. When your eyes slowly raise to mine I say, "My hair, take it down for me boy."
You begin to beam knowing this is one of my favorite parts. Still standing in front of me, you put both your hands, fingers splayed, behind my ears and move them up into my hair. You press the digits into my scalp and wiggle them gently along my skin. I can't help but smile and let my eyes close as I luxuriate in the moment. I hear the small cascade of sounds as a handful of hair pins fall to the ground. Your hands move out to the ends of my curls and then return to individually pull the last of the bobby pins from my dark hair. You begin to stoop down to pick the pins off the floor and I stop you.
"Leave them," I instruct and you rise back up to face me.
Your eyes stay lowered but I catch them darting from the floor up to my tiny black panties. The little scraps of lace were a gift from you and the hungry look in your eyes makes me very wet. The last time you touched these panties was when you stuffed them into my own mouth one night when the tables were turned. The night you gave them to me I couldn't help but notice how expensive they must have been but you said you couldn't resist them because they were almost as soft as my skin.
I see your fingers twitching at your side and know you're wishing for permission to feel them.
I can deny you nothing.
"Hands up, boy. Lace them behind your head." You do exactly as you're told. "Up straight now."
Your body goes upright and rigid, taut and the only thing straining seems to be your perfect cock against the soft cotton of your boxer briefs.
"I want you to stay perfectly still. Do you understand?"
