"It's time for our game now, sugar, don't you think?"
Dana made a sound that somehow combined a groan of frustration with a submissive purr and a breathless grunt all at once. It was a delicious noise. I had caused it by taking her right up to the precipice of an orgasm before stopping abruptly to ask my question.
She was sprawled on the sofa, naked except for her red high heeled shoes. A while before, I had sat on the floor between her open legs and put my hands on her knees, spreading them further. My tongue and mouth had worked relentlessly. First long slow licks for a while, just as she liked, from right above her asshole all the way up past her rapidly swelling clit. Then again, and again.
I had told her to shave her pussy this morning and it was pink and eager. Once she was salty, wet, and breathing hard, I added in more variety, moving unpredictably all over her rapidly warming crotch. I licked and nipped her inner thigh, then swirled across one of her labia with puckered lips. I suckled her clit and massaged it with my tongue, then moved back to the other inner thigh and squeezed her tender flesh between my lips, with just a little force of my teeth behind them. Slow, steady, firm, patient. I watched Dana's reactions closely and fell into a little wordless dialogue between my mouth and her pussy, every response from her body inspiring me to my next move, and then my next. Our minds went blank as we communicated this way, and her pleasure rose and rose.
Then came the telltale signs that Dana was nearing the edge, but I did not want her to have an orgasm. Not yet. So I trailed little kisses down the inside of her leg and gave her some more abrupt pats on her knee to awaken her from her reverie. That's when I suggested it was time for the game.
"I have it right here," i said, my cheerful tone mocking her frustration and her ache for release. That morning, I had told her that I had a new game for us to play later on. She'd asked me curiously to tell her more about it, but I had just said, "You will see soon enough."
Now I opened the drawer of the little side table that sat next to the sofa and removed a bag filled with clothespins that I'd stashed there earlier. Ripping it open, I dumped a small pile of them on the tabletop. Dana's eyes widened when she saw them. Since we were not doing laundry, their intended use was quite clear. Then I produced a thin permanent marker from the drawer, and raised myself from the floor to perch on the edge of the cushion next to her. I placed my leg, dressed in trim trousers, alongside her flank, which emphasized that I was clothed and she was totally naked— and vulnerable.
"Dana, do you know what you sounded like with all your moaning while I worked over your wet cunt just now?"
Her brow furrowed, wondering if this was some kind of a trick question. "Um, what did I sound like, Sir?"
"Why, you were moaning like a slut. Such a slut!"
I slowly uncapped the pen, then leaned over the table and wrote the word in neat block capitals on the side of one of the wooden pins: "SLUT." Then I held it up to her and looked into her eyes while she looked at the pin. "See, Dana? Let me spell it out: S-L-U-T. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, Sir," she nodded, trying to gather some dignity and composure around herself even though her cheeks were still flushed and her pupils dilated from my ministrations.
"Of course you are. What else are you Dana?"
"Sir?"
"What other words describe a depraved girl like you?"
"Oh, Sir, I am ..." She paused, bit her lower lip very cutely, and said, "SIr, I am your obedient fucktoy."
I smiled warmly. "Excellent. You certainly are. Go ahead, label that pin "FUCKTOY." And when you are done I will take the next one and write "THREE HOLES." Because, honestly, sometimes that is all you are, Dana."
When that was done, I pushed the three labeled pins to the side and lined them up neatly, perfectly parallel in a little column of words. The next steps of the game now became obvious.
"What else, Dana? How about when I bend you over and slam into you hard from behind, what are you then? Sometimes I say that I am fucking you like..."
"Like your dirty whore, Sir?"
"Exactly!" I handed the pen back to her and she wrote "DIRTY WHORE" down the side of another pin.
"I will choose an adjective for the next one, Dana. There are so many adjectives to describe what you really are." I took the pen from her hand and wrote "DEPRAVED."
As I finished, Dana cocked her head and said, "My turn, Sir?" Her body was calming from the recent excitement, and her mind was now occupied generating more dirty names for herself. I nodded as I handed her the pen and she wrote "NASTY."
Pretty soon we had two dozen pins labeled this way, taking turns: FILTHY, DECADENT, PLAYTHING, HARLOT. I added a few that were a bit less degrading, such as GODDESS and PRINCESS. But as Dana got into the spirit, her words became even more humiliating: COCKSUCKER, FUCKMEAT, CUM BUCKET, and so forth.
It was my turn when we were down to the last pin in the pile. (Of course, I'd counted them out beforehand to make sure we would end on my turn.) Then I wrote, "SIR'S PROPERTY." And to punctuate the point, I snapped the pin open and closed a few times, making a sharp sound that cut through the quiet, before placing it in the tidy line on the table.
"All of these are words for you, my dear. Labels, if you like."
I stood and loomed over her seated below me. I stretched her arms all the way out and placed them along the back of the sofa. She knew to leave them where I put them. The position arched her back and presented her beautiful tits for better display.
Gesturing to the tidy rows of labeled pns, I asked, "Now comes the next part of our game, where we must apply the labels. Which one do you choose first?"
Dana looked at me, puzzled, trying to work out if there was a correct answer. There wasn't, but I enjoyed her furrowed brow and air of concentration. "I think," she said slowly, "that it is proper first to designate me as your property, Sir. What could be more important than that?" She lowered her eyes but her smile betrayed a bit of the mischief with which she attempted this blatant flattery. I decided to play along.
"Excellent answer, Dana! And as it happens, this pin belongs in one of the more prominent locations, here on your right nipple!" I leaned over and plucked the "SIR'S PROPERTY" pin from its place at the bottom of the second row. As I snapped it in the air a few more times with my left hand to loosen it up, I slid the thumb and index finger of my right hand into Dana's mouth. She let her jaw go slack as I probed inside. Such a wonderfully compliant girl! I pressed down on her tongue, just to be sure she obediently relaxed it. And I got my fingertips wet with her spit, which was my real purpose.
Returning my hand to her nipple, I quickly bathed it in the moisture from her own mouth, then increased the pressure until I was squeezing quite hard. Dana made a low guttural noise—the sound of her trying not to make a sound. When I let go, her pert nipple was standing to attention, and I slowly closed the SIR'S PROPERTY pn onto it. She winced, but made no noise.
"I will pick PRINCESS next, because you are." Again I leaned over, and snapped the pin a few times to loosen it. "And it goes near the spot where you sit on your throne." Moving swiftly, I pinched out an inch of the flesh in her left inner thigh, just a little below her pussy, and slid the clothespin onto it. This time I got a more robust noise: a bit of a grunt, pain and surprise.
