After-work quickie

Alex clenched his jaw as he drove home from work. It had been a frustrating day, and he wanted to be able to relax and get his mind off of it.

He turned the corner, onto his street, and his heart plummeted to his toes and skipped a beat when he saw his Owner’s car parked outside his house.

All thoughts of work were instantly far from his mind.

He knew what this was, he’d known it was coming, and he knew what would be expected of him.  Forcing his body to obey him, he pulled into the garage as his Owner got out of her car.

As expected, the passenger side door opened as well.  A strange man got out, and together, the two of them walked into the garage.

“Hello, slut,” his Owner said cheerfully.  His face flamed at the pet name, at her using it within earshot of someone else.  She was showing restraint, she always did when there were others around, but he knew her well enough to read the giddiness in her eyes.

“Hello, Mistress,” he replied quietly.  Her being giddy usually meant difficult and degrading things for him.

She approached him and hugged him tightly, and he could feel the excitement radiating off of her.

“My friend wants to use your mouth.  Let’s go inside.”

The casual, matter-of-fact way she said it was jarring in and of itself.  She could’ve been talking about what she had for lunch.

“I ate a club sandwich, and you’re going to eat a stranger’s cum.”

His heart was racing as he led the way into the house.  He was acutely aware of the unfamiliar presence behind him, walking beside his Owner, as they walked toward the door.

He fumbled with the keys.

“Having trouble, little girl?” she asked playfully, her hand on his lower back, sliding down and groping his ass.  “A little distracted?”

Somehow, he managed to get his door unlocked, and the three of them went inside.

He’d barely closed and locked the door before she was behind him, pushing him against it.  Quickly, she unfastened his pants and slid them down, exposing the women’s panties underneath.

“See?” she asked the man with her.  “I told you he wears them every day.  He’s such an obedient bitch.”

“His ass looks damn sexy,” the man replied.

“Doesn’t it?  It’s so perky.  Feel it.”

Alex lowered his head, his face hot with embarrassment, as he felt unfamiliar hands on him, roaming across his body, sliding underneath his panties, dipping between his legs.

But then, his Owner grabbed him by the arm and turned him around.

“Get on your knees, slut,” she ordered.

Wordlessly, he knelt down, cringing as he heard the unmistakable sound of a pants zipper.  He kept his eyes down, not wanting to look at what was in front of him.

He should’ve known better.  “Look at it,” his Owner said, lifting his head up.  “Look at what’s going in your mouth.”

Reluctantly, he forced his eyes up, his stomach tying itself in knots when he saw the hard, dripping cock only inches from his face.

He felt his Owner’s lips on his ear as she crouched behind him, firmly holding his wrists behind his back.

“Open your mouth, little girl,” she murmured.  “He’s going to fuck it.  And when he cums, you will not swallow until I say you can.”

His body almost seemed to act on its own, obeying her command as the cock was pushed into his mouth.

The man wasn’t gentle.  But then, Alex hadn’t expected him to be.  He held Alex’s head with both hands, thrusting deep and hard into his mouth.  Even when Alex gagged, he didn’t stop.  And his Owner kept a tight grip on his hands, keeping him from struggling.

Thankfully, the man didn’t last long.  His thrusts became more frenzied, his grunts more animalistic, until he plunged his cock into Alex’s mouth, as deep as it would go, moaning as his cock pumped Alex’s mouth full of cum.

Alex wanted nothing more than to be allowed to swallow, but obediently waited, hoping she’d be merciful and wouldn’t make him wait long.

“How does it taste?” she asked.  She moved closer, whispering into his ear, only loud enough for him to hear.  “You’re a cum dumpster,” she told him, the softness and gentleness of her tone a stark contrast to the words she said.  “Nothing but a pair of holes for real men to fuck.  Get used to the taste of cum, little girl.  This is the first of many.”

Her hands roamed across his chest, pulling him back against her.  “Swallow,” she commanded.

Relieved, he obeyed her, shutting his eyes tight as he forced his body to comply.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered approvingly.  She held him against her a moment longer, her arms wrapped around him, then suddenly released him and pushed him hard.  He fell forward, onto his hands and knees, as she rose to her feet.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said to her companion.

And they left, without another word to him.

Open up for me

He gasped as he felt the tip of her strap-on pushing against his entrance; sucked in his breath as he felt himself being spread wide to accommodate the girth of her cock.  It felt much bigger in his ass than it had when she’d used it to fuck his mouth.

Panting, he looked up her as she slowly, steadily impaled him.  She knelt between his legs, lifted up and pulled to his chest, out of her way, practically bending him in half and leaving his inexperienced hole open and uncomfortably vulnerable to her.

His hands were balled into fists above his head, and we was acutely aware of the tension of his bonds.  Thick rope held his wrists in place, and his ankles were tied to the wrought iron headboard above him, keeping them up and keeping his ass exposed.

He couldn’t get away.

His heart raced and his cock surged as that realization hit home.  There was nothing he could do to make this stop.  His body was completely hers, he was completely at her mercy.

He grunted as she eased past that tight inner ring, wincing with the burn of being forced open.  Her eyes darted up to meet his, and his heart jumped at the predatory gleam he saw there, the hunger in her gaze, the corners of her mouth turning upward, forming that wolfish, dangerous grin that both terrified him and turned him on.

But even though his face contorted in pain and his chest heaved as she violated him, she only smiled, relentlessly pushing her cock deeper and deeper into him.

Finally, once she was past that ring, she drove her hips forward, sinking the cock into him as far as it would go, her hips pressing firmly against him.

He tensed, and a choked scream escaped him.  His limbs strained against the rope that held him, seeming to move with a mind of their own, trying to protect the hole she was so thoroughly destroying.

But she didn’t give him time to recover, pulling almost all the way out before plunging all the way back into him.

Please!” he managed to cry out, struggling in earnest now.  For all the good it did him.

She didn’t even acknowledge him.  She simply kept fucking him with that excruciating rhythm, torturing and tormenting him, forcing her way into him.

But then, she stopped, her cock as deep into him as it would go.  He expected her to pull back out and shove it back in again, but she didn’t.  Instead, she pressed her hips against him, rotating them and swirling her cock around inside him.

His eyes shot open and he gasped as pleasure quickly replaced pain.  When she began thrusting again, it was much slower, much gentler, coaxing the pleasure from his raw, throbbing hole.

“That’s a good boy,” she said softly, her voice low and thick with lust.  “Open up for me.”

“Fun” Erotica

First, some backstory.

Alright, so after a month of not having a computer (alright, so more like a few days, but Jesus, it felt like a month), I’m so relieved to have a computer again.

Man, I do not like being that out of touch.  And it’s only when I don’t have a computer that I realize what a pain in the ass trying to do anything on a smart phone can be.

And Sounder really became my knight in shining armor by letting me borrow his.  In more ways than he realizes, he swooped in and saved the day.

When I first start talking to a potential sub, one of the things I ask is for him to write me an erotic story.  There’s no word count minimum, there’s no subject requirement, there’s nothing like that.  That’s the only direction I give.  Just write me a story.

And there are a few reasons I do this.  First of all, I’m fully aware that a great number of men, upon hearing that instruction, will think it’s dumb, or won’t see the point of doing it.  That’s done intentionally.  I want them to think that it’s a dumb request, because I want to see how they respond to a request they don’t understand or don’t see the point of.

I have a questionnaire (hopefully I still have it, assuming I can get it off my hard drive) that I also give to potential subs as soon as they message me that I ask them to fill out before moving any further.  And again, one of the reasons I do that is because, if they think it’s dumb, I want to see how they respond.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten what appeared to be a well-constructed, genuine message from a sub, only for him to disappear when I send him the questionnaire and ask that he complete it.

The questionnaire also helps me very quickly see what sort of relationship he’s looking for, what his expectations are, what his general perception of a D/s relationship is, any limitations or triggers I need to be aware of, etc.  It’s a lot of information, that would normally take weeks’ worth of conversations, all at once, all in one place.  The answers from the questionnaire help me learn a lot about a potential sub early on.

The story serves a similar purpose.  I want to see how seriously he takes a command, how quickly he gets it done (i.e., how big of a priority he chooses to make it), and how he responds to something he may not fully understand.

Aside from that, the story gives me a hint of what turns him on, where his head goes when given free reign, and which aspects of a session speak to him the most.

I gave Sounder that assignment, and he delivered an intriguing story that I thoroughly enjoyed reading (and read repeatedly).  It was through reading that story that I realized a good mindfuck was a very effective tool to use with him, that it was something that would hit him deeply, that he would respond favorably (well, favorably for me, anyway) to.

I’ve been toying around with the idea of writing a story of my own, very loosely based on the one he wrote for me.  The specific type of mindfuck he wrote about appealed to me from the very beginning, and the more I got to know him, the more my mind took that and ran with it.

As he very well knows, I can always make it worse.

My original plan was to take at least a few days, if not a week or two, to put the story together.  There was no rush, and it wasn’t at the top of my list of priorities.

But now, I think I’ll write it here.  It’ll give Sounder something “fun” (yeah, we’ll go with “fun“) to think about while he’s at work.

Oh, and just so you know, little sissy… I offer you no guarantees that this will remain completely in the realm of fiction…


A text message with an address and a command to show up at 7:00 pm was all the communication he’d received from his Domina that day.  His questions had been answered with four short words; “Do as you’re told.”

So he pulled up to the large, unfamiliar house, his nervousness rising.  But he took comfort in seeing his Domina’s car parked in the driveway.

He’d barely rung the doorbell when the front door swung open, revealing his Domina.  The grin she wore was one he’d seen many times, and he felt his heart skip a beat.  She was planning something evil, something sadistic and cruel, something she was barely able to contain her excitement about.

“Come on, hurry up,” she urged, taking his hand and pulling him inside.  She led him through the house and into a guest bedroom, where he was surprised to see one of her Domme friends laying out a number of implements on the bed.

He stared down at the ominous array of toys, his pulse quickening.

His Domina didn’t waste any time.  “Strip,” she commanded, stepping away from him to grab a pair of leather wrist cuffs from the bed.

His heart pounding, he did as he was told, removing his shirt and pants and setting them neatly in the corner of the room.  He straightened up, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a pair of thigh-high stockings.

It’s all he had to wear, since she had tied him to the bed and made him watch as she went through his room, grabbing all of his men’s underwear and throwing them away.  She’d made a point to sit in front of him with a pair of scissors, cutting up and completely destroying every pair he owned.

She’d replaced them with the panties, taking his spare key and promising that she would randomly come by unannounced to go through his clothes again, to make sure he hadn’t bought any more.  Twice in the six months since then, she’d made good on that promise.  And twice, she’d been satisfied to find that he’d submitted completely to her will, and obeyed her even when she wasn’t around.

“Those, too,” she said, gesturing to the panties and the stockings.

He obeyed, slowly removing the last of his clothing and standing before them completely naked.

His Domina approached him with the cuffs and buckled one around each wrist.  She and her friend occasionally spoke to each other, but neither of them spoke to him as they fastened the wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs, followed by a thick leather harness that went over his shoulders to buckle at his waist.

She surprised him then, when she removed the chastity cage he always wore.

She only took that off when she wanted to tease him, to edge him, to hurt him, or to clean him.  What did she have planned?

The next thing she grabbed made his heart rate double.

It was a sensory deprivation hood, made of thick, padded leather.  He’d never worn one before.  One of the things he loved most was watching her prepare to use him, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop what she was about to do to him.

She knew this, and often used it to her advantage, so she very rarely ever blindfolded him.  Much less remove his hearing, as well.

He was very still as she pulled it over his head and buckled it, effectively removing his sight.  Once she’d completely fastened and tightened it, the soft leather pressed against his ears, and he couldn’t hear a thing.

There was a hole at his mouth and two smaller ones at his nose for him to breathe through, but with the hood fitting so snugly against his face, even those holes didn’t allow him the ability to hear what was going on around him.

He felt her clip a padlock onto the strap that buckled around his neck, then she took his hand and moved it up to let him feel for himself that indeed, he was locked into the hood, and could not get it off.

She moved to his side, standing close to him, her left hand going to his arm and her right hand around his waist.  With firm, steady pressure, she urged him forward.

Oh, god, she expected him to walk?  He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, he felt completely isolated and out of touch with his surroundings.  Trying to walk like that was unnerving, to say the least.

But he trusted her, and hesitantly allowed her to lead him wherever she wanted.

He was very aware of the fact that he was completely naked, completely helpless, in unfamiliar surroundings, and had no idea what was going on.  The realization was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, and he couldn’t hide his erect, dripping cock.

Progress was slow, but her touch was constant, patient, and gentle.  It helped ease his nerves a bit.  Following her lead was familiar.  Doing what she wanted was calming.  She’d always taken care of him.  He knew that whatever she had planned, she would make sure nothing bad happened.

Those thoughts helped, but did little to calm his racing heart as she continued leading him slowly through the house.

Finally, she stopped, and stepped away.

And the sudden lack of touch brought all the nervousness and anxiety back.  He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and had no idea where he was, or where she was.  That isolation began pressing down on him.  He stood still, waiting for her to come back.  It was all he could do.

He didn’t have to wait long.  He felt the familiar touch on his shoulder, then down his arm.  Gently, she lifted his arm up and clipped his wrist cuff to something that kept his arm in place.  She did the same thing with his other arm, then urged him to spread his legs, and clipped his ankles.

When she was done, he was standing upright, spread-eagle, his legs and arms spread wide and held in place.

He felt extremely vulnerable as she trailed her fingertips down his chest and stomach, stopping just short of his throbbing cock.

In the next moment, she slapped his cock lightly, causing him to jump and flinch.  Another slap, harder this time, brought a gasp and a grunt of pain.

But he was acutely aware that there was nowhere he could go.  He was completely immobilized, completely exposed, completely at her mercy.

Her touch became gentle again, caressing his thighs and stomach.  She brought both hands up and rested them against his chest just as he felt another pair of hands behind him, starting at his shoulders and moving down toward his butt.

Another hand came from the side, starting at his hip and running lightly across his lower stomach.  Yet another came from the other side, moving up the inside of his thigh, brushing lightly against his cock.

His Domina’s hands disappeared, and were quickly replaced by unfamiliar fingers teasing his nipples.

He gasped, squirming, as he was touched all over.  The part of his mind still capable of coherent thought tried desperately to count the pairs of hands, but he couldn’t.  It had to be at least three, probably four.

And his ability to form a coherent thought was completely obliterated when he felt a slick, wet finger reach down between his legs, lightly rubbing against his hole.  He squirmed, gasping, chills running down his spine.

The finger teased him for just a moment before slowly entering him, eliciting a shuddering moan.

It was quickly joined by a second wet finger, and he knew that it was from a different hand.

The two fingers slid in and out of him, exploring him, sometimes moving together, sometimes not.  After a few moments, a third finger entered him, and he had no idea whether it was from a different hand or not.  He couldn’t tell anymore.

It seemed like he was being touched everywhere, every inch of his body.  Hands stroked his cock, fondled his balls, caressed his thighs, teased his nipples.  He couldn’t count them anymore, and he didn’t want to.  He was lost in the sensations.

Suddenly, he felt the restraints holding his arms lower and move forward, pulling him over.  He had no choice but to follow, and was relieved to find that someone had put some sort of stool or bench or small padded table in front of him.  As he was forced to bend over, he rested on the table.

And he felt more vulnerable than he had when he’d been standing up.  His legs were still spread wide, his ass still exposed and full of fingers, his cock still teased and stroked.

Then, the fingers inside him abruptly left, and he was surprised to find himself disappointed.  He wanted the feeling of being filled and stuffed.

He wasn’t disappointed for long, though.  A moment later, he gasped and tensed as a strap-on dildo was thrust smoothly into him, all the way to the hilt.  It was bigger than he was expecting, and his muscles throbbed as they stretched to accommodate it.

More hands teased and stroked his cock, lightly tapping his balls, making him clench his muscles around the dildo that fucked him.

He moaned, pushing his weight back on his heels to meet each thrust, wanting to be fucked deeper, harder.  Strong hands gripped his hips as the cock was pounded into him again and again.  The hands on his cock continued the endless tease, keeping him hard, but not giving him enough to reach an edge.

Then, the thrusting got quicker, harder, more animalistic.  The hands holding his hips dug into him with strong, big fingers.  And then, there was one final, deep thrust, as the cock was pushed as far into him as it would go.  Once again, his muscles throbbed around it.


It wasn’t his muscles that were throbbing.

The cock inside him was throbbing.

The cock inside him was real.

He’d been fucked by a man.  And that man had just cum inside him.

He cried out, struggling, pulling desperately against the restraints, but they were too tight.  He couldn’t move.

The cock inside him was pulled out and immediately replaced with another one.  Another real one.  Before he could react, he felt his head pushed down, and a cock was shoved through the hole in his hood and into his mouth.

He gagged, sputtering, trying to pull away.  But the hands that held him were firm, and kept him in place.

He struggled for a moment longer before the sensations began to overwhelm him again, and his mind once again grew fuzzy.

Practically since they’d met, his Domina had talked about wanting him gangbanged, wanting both his holes stuffed.  Her words had always turned him on, and a big part of him looked forward to it, but he’d never been fucked by a man before.

He hadn’t expected his first time to be like this.

But after a moment, he let go and surrendered to her will, drifting in subspace, fueled by his humiliation and objectification as both his holes were violated for a man’s cheap thrill.  Without his sense of sight or hearing, the sensations seemed to become more intense, and he found himself overwhelmed and unable to put a clear thought together.

The man in his mouth came first.  It surprised him, and he gagged once before swallowing, knowing his Domina well enough to know that she was somewhere nearby, watching, and that’s what she would want him to do.

The cock in his mouth was replaced by another one, and once again, his face was brutally and mercilessly fucked.

Time seemed to get blurry after that.  He had no idea how long he was kept there, bent over a bench or a stool, completely violated and humiliated, completely exposed and open for anyone who wanted to use him.

He had no idea how many men had fucked him.  He knew he swallowed at least two more loads of cum.  Trying to keep track of how many had cum in his ass was harder.

It seemed like hours had passed.  His ass was raw and throbbing, his jaw was sore and stiff, and he had no way of knowing how much longer this would continue.

But finally, the cock in his mouth came, but wasn’t replaced with another one.  Shortly after, the cock in his ass quivered and throbbed as it came inside him.  It wasn’t replaced with another one, either.

Was it finally over?

For what seemed like a long time, he stayed there, bent over, alone.

Then, he felt the cuffs on his ankles removed, allowing him to move his legs.  Familiar, gentle hands moved up his back, to his arms, and unbuckled the wrist cuffs.

Finally released, he collapsed, lowering himself to the carpeted floor, completely exhausted, completely degraded.

She was there, pulling him into her lap, running her hands soothingly over his body as he lied against her.  He took a deep breath and sighed, relaxing.  He couldn’t see her, he couldn’t hear her, but he knew that she was proud of him.

Birthdays and Figging

So all three of my boys’ birthdays are within a month of each other. Kazander’s birthday is right around the Sagittarius/Capricorn cusp, Steel’s birthday is about two weeks after that, and Sounder’s birthday is about two weeks after Steel’s. On top of that, my birthday is about two weeks after Sounder’s. And on top of that, both Sounder and I are starting new decades this year. He’s turning 40, and I’m turning 30.

I swear, I didn’t plan all that.

So birthdays have been at the forefront of my mind lately. And with that in mind, I decided to write a bit of erotica inspired by the birthday theme, and by the boys celebrating them.


I came home after having dinner with friends to find my boy right where I left him three hours ago; naked, gagged with a locking gag, stuffed with a locking butt plug, and lying in his cage in the middle of the living room.

He looked up at me as I walked in the door, whimpering. His jaw and ass were no doubt sore, and I was sure the whimpering was his way of begging me to remove the things inside him.

But he’d have to be sore for a little while longer. I set my keys and purse down on the table just inside the door, slid off my shoes, and walked past him without acknowledging him. I made my way into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of wine, then returned to the living room to sit on the couch beside his cage.

“How was your night?” I asked grinning.

He grunted softly, squirming. It was obvious from his body language that he was in pain, but he slowly, tenderly picked himself up and knelt on all fours, watching as I leisurely drank my wine.

“Please,” he murmured, the single word muffled practically beyond recognition by the gag.

My grin widened.  “What’s the matter?” I asked innocently.  “Don’t you like being gagged and plugged for me?”

He whined, lowering his eyes, and nodded slowly.  A long sigh escaped him, and I chuckled, knowing what he was thinking.  He assumed I would make him keep the gag and plug in for quite a bit longer.

I waited a moment, watching him while I sipped my wine, letting him continue thinking that just a bit longer, then set my glass down on the end table.

“Well, I’m in a generous mood,” I said, pulling two keys from inside my bra.  “I guess I’ll let you relax for now.”

I knelt down beside the cage, reaching between the bars and pushing his head down so I could reach the small padlock at the back of his head.  I quickly unlocked it, then unbuckled it and removed the gag.

He groaned, tenderly flexing his jaw, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up in pain.  “Thank you, Domina,” he said quietly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I replied, rising to my feet and walking around the cage to stand behind him.  I unlocked the plug, closed it, and gently pulled it out of him.

He gasped, tensing, and I smiled.  “A little sore?”

“A little,” he answered, his voice tight as I pulled the plug out of him.  I took my time, moving extremely slowly, savoring the pain it caused him and his soft whines and moans, and the way his body tensed, his hands clenched into fists.  The cage was just big enough to accommodate him while he was on all fours.  He didn’t have the room to try and squirm away from me.

Finally, it slid all the way out, and he moaned in relief, dropping to his stomach, breathing heavily.

“That’s a good boy,” I said.  “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes, Domina,” he said, sighing.

I left the room, going back to the kitchen, where I grabbed his dog bowl and filled it with water.  I also poured another glass of wine.

I brought both back to the living room, and slid the dog bowl through the small slot designed for feeding him, and set the glass of wine down beside it.  He looked up at me, obviously confused by the wine.

“I’m in a generous mood,” I said with a shrug.  “And I’m going to take a shower.  Here’s the TV remote.  You can watch something until I get back.”

“May I come out of the cage?” he asked quietly.

I laughed.  “Why would I let you out?  You belong in there.”

He lowered his gaze.  “Yes, Domina.”

“That’s a good boy,” I said, handing him the remote.  “I’ll be back.”

I finished my wine and headed to the bathroom, and got into the shower, sighing as the warm water ran over me.  I relaxed, taking my time.  I also took the opportunity to shave my legs.  I was in no rush.

Finally, I turned off the water, dried off, and changed into a tank top and my favorite pajama pants.  They were thick, soft, and warm, and I wore them all the time.

I came back downstairs to find him sitting upright, leaning back against the bars of the cage.  Both the wine glass and the dog bowl were more than half empty.  I quickly refilled my wine glass, and walked back into the living room.

“Still sore?” I asked, taking the remote from him.

“A little,” he answered.

I looked down at him, sitting in his cage.  He looked so cute.

The cage had been custom built by a friend of mine, made specifically for him.  I’d designed it to be restricting, but comfortable enough for extended periods.  It was just long enough to accommodate him while he was on all fours, and just tall enough for him to sit upright.  The bars were spaced wide enough apart that he could slide his legs through if he needed to stretch out, but not wide enough to allow his head through.

At the front of the cage, near the bottom, was a narrow slot that allowed me to slide a dog bowl inside, so I could feed him without unlocking the door.  Above that was a locking metal ring that I could remove to create a hole just big enough for him to stick his head through.  Once it was through, I could lock the ring around his neck, keeping him in place.

The bottom of the cage was lined with a thick, firm mat to protect his knees when he was on all fours, and to give him some level of comfort during those times that I decided to keep him caged all day (or all weekend).

It didn’t have wheels, but I’d gotten furniture sliders to put underneath it, so I could easily push the cage wherever I wanted.

Now, I pushed the cage back so it was flush against the couch, then lied down on the couch and spread out, reaching through the bars of the cage and idly running the tips of my fingers across his shoulders, neck, and chest while I sipped my wine and watched TV.

But my boy is sexy, and turns me on, and it wasn’t too terribly long before I wanted to make him squirm.  I turned off the TV, unlocked the cage, clipped a leash to his collar, and led him out.  I gave him a moment to stretch.  This was the first opportunity he’d had to stand upright all day.  Even when letting him take those pesky bathroom breaks he insisted on, I made him crawl on his hands and knees.

I gave him a moment, then led him into the kitchen, where I grabbed a paring knife and a finger of ginger.  His face went pale as he watched me peel and carve it into the size and shape I wanted.

I grinned at his reaction.  “What’s the matter?” I asked.  “Not particularly looking forward to this?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Well, I am.”

He gave a resigned sigh, tearing his eyes away from the ginger in my hands to meet my gaze.  “Then I’m looking forward to making you happy.”

“Good boy.”

I finished carving it and handed it to him.  His eyes widened.  “You’re done?” he asked, taking it.

“Yeah.  Why?”

“It’s just big.”

I smiled.  “It’s not that big.  You’ll be fine.”

I led him into the bedroom, where I made him lie on his back, and used the under-the-bed restraints to cuff his hands.  I cuffed his ankles and tied them to rings welded into the wrought-iron headboard, forcing his legs up and leaving him nice and open and exposed.

I knelt down on the bed and shoved a finger in his mouth, getting it nice and wet before softly, gently rubbing it against his sore hole.  He closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle touch.

Not even a full minute passed before the soft whines started.  “Please, Domina,” he begged, squirming as much as he could in that position.

“What?” I asked.  “Do you want me to finger you, little boy?”

“Yes, please.”

“Beg for it, slut.”

He didn’t miss a beat.  “Please, Domina.  Please finger me.  Finger your slut.  I want you inside me.  I want to feel you filling me up.  I’m yours, your slut, your bitch.”

I interrupted him by sliding my finger smoothly inside.  I had to interrupt him.  If I didn’t, the begging would inevitably devolve into a barely-intelligible stream of slutty drivel.

For a few moments, I slowly fingered him, letting him enjoy himself.  “You like this, don’t you, slut?” I asked him.  “You live for this.  You love being stuffed, being filled, being fucked.  I know you love it.  You crave it.  This hole is mine, little boy.  I own it, and I own you.”

“Yes, Domina,” he gasped, unable to control the whines and moans escaping him as he squirmed, trying to push himself further down on my finger, trying to feel me even deeper inside him.

I chuckled.  “Such an eager little bitch.  But I have other plans for this hole.  I know you don’t think I was going to let you off with just fingering tonight.”

He pouted for just a moment as I pulled my finger out of him, but went very still when I grabbed the ginger.

I worked it in gently.  He was going to be in enough pain soon.  There was no reason to make it worse on his already-abused hole.

Once it was all the way in, I released his legs, letting him lie flat on his back.  His arms were still restrained, but I left his legs free.  I wanted to watch him squirm.

It didn’t take long.  Within moments, he was beginning to feel the effects.  I could see the tension rolling through his body, and he started pulling against his restraints, his breathing becoming heavier by the second.

“That’s a good boy,” I told him.  “It hurts already, doesn’t it?  But you know it’s going to get a lot worse.  I’m going to make you scream tonight, little slut.  I’m going to break you, I’m going to destroy that self-control of yours.  You’re going to scream, you’re going to cry.  And if the first finger doesn’t work, I’ll just go and carve another one and start all over again.  I can do this all night.  And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.  All you can do is let go, and hope that I’m feeling merciful when the effects of the first one start to wear off.”

To emphasize my point, I reached down between his legs and squeezed his ass cheeks together, a move I knew would momentarily exacerbate the pain.

He cried out, his entire body tense, squirming uncontrollably on the bed.  I grinned, watching him in silence for a moment, watching him wrestle with the pain.

I was half-tempted to stand back the entire time and watch him, and then go carve up another to put inside him.  I knew the pain by itself wouldn’t be enough to get the reaction I wanted from him.  But twenty minutes to half an hour of pain certainly wouldn’t hurt my cause.  Especially since I’d aged and fermented this ginger, making it quite a bit more potent than it would’ve been if I’d just bought it that day.

But no, I wouldn’t need the second round.  I was determined to break him, and I knew how to do it.

I knelt beside him, running my fingers along his body, down his ribs, across his chest.  After a moment, I gripped his cock, slowly stroking him to full mast.

It didn’t take long.  That’s the awesome thing about figging.  The pain by itself is unbelievably hot, but with just a little prompting, it becomes a massive aphrodisiac.  I knew how to use that combination.

I hovered over his rock-hard cock, spitting on it to get it wet, then began stroking in earnest.  Less than a minute later, he reached his first edge – the first of many.

“That’s a good boy,” I told him.  “Look how hard you are.  You must really be enjoying this.  Aww, you look so cute trying to hold on to that control.  But you know it’s a battle you can’t win.  I’m going to break you tonight.  There’s no getting around it.  It’s going to happen.  The sooner you accept that inevitability, the better off you’ll be.  Because I own this cock, and I own this little boy cunt, and I’m going to abuse them until I get what I want.  And I have absolutely nowhere else I need to be.”

By the time I finished speaking, he’d reached his second edge, and I couldn’t help but smile.  This would be easier than I thought.

I leaned forward and began licking and nibbling his ear, keeping my hand on his cock, slowly stroking him to one edge after another after another.  Each time, I’d only pause for a couple of seconds, just long enough to bring him back from the edge, but keeping him close to it.

And as sensitive as his neck and ears were, keeping him right on the edge was beyond easy.  It was making sure I didn’t accidentally go too far that I had to be mindful of.  I didn’t want him cumming yet.  I wasn’t done with him.

His moans got louder, his voice got higher as the sensations began to overwhelm him.  For a moment, I released my hold on his cock and reached down to push the ginger further inside him, intensifying the pain.  And that elicited the first delicious scream of the night.

I couldn’t help but smile triumphantly as I raised myself up to look down at him, studying the pain and the helplessness in his face, watching him as he finally started to accept the inevitability.  He knew me well enough to know that I don’t make idle threats.  I would keep this up for as long as it took to get what I wanted from him.  There would be no rest, no relief, until I got what I wanted.  I wouldn’t let up until I had utterly and thoroughly broken him.

Fighting the screams and fighting the tears would do nothing but prolong the torture.  And since my sadism knows no bounds, I had absolutely zero problem with prolonging the torture.

He closed his eyes, his chest heaving, and I grinned, reaching down to continue edging him with one hand as I teased his nipples with the other.  As he neared yet another edge, I leaned forward, taking a nipple between my teeth, and bit down hard just as he reached the edge.  Another scream and a surge in his cock were my rewards.

And because I’m a fan of symmetry, I repeated the process with the other nipple.  By that time, it was less than ten seconds between edges, and I could only stroke him a couple of times before pausing.  He was howling and thrashing around on the bed, but I wasn’t done with him yet.

I went back to his neck and his ear, teasing him, licking him, keeping him overwhelmed, keeping the pleasure just as intense as the pain.

When I bit down on his earlobe, his scream was loud enough to hurt my ears.

But then, as the scream faded, I heard the sound I’d been waiting for.  His scream ended in a sob.

He was breaking.

But he wasn’t broken yet.  If I stopped now, he’d regain control, and a single sob would be all I’d get.

And that wasn’t enough for me.

I reached down to push against the ginger again while tonguing his ear relentlessly.  He turned his head, trying to push me away, but he was far beyond overwhelmed, and it made him weak.  He couldn’t fight me, and he knew it.

“Please,” he begged, the word broken by another sob.  He couldn’t hold on to that self-control anymore, he couldn’t keep it together anymore, he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“No,” I murmured into his ear before biting down on him again.

No, I wasn’t done with him yet.  I wasn’t going to let him rest yet.  I knew he couldn’t handle it.  That was the whole point.

I kept going, keeping him on that edge, combining the pleasure and pain, making sure both remained intense enough to overwhelm him just on their own, much less combined, and with the aphrodisiac of the ginger inside him.

I kept a close eye on the time.  I knew that I only had twenty minutes, maybe half an hour if I was lucky, before the effects would start wearing off.  And I wanted to make sure he came while it was still at its peak.

So I kept going, kept pushing him, until tears streamed down his face and he was crying openly.  I felt like I’d been torturing him for hours, but in reality, it had been barely more than twenty minutes, and he was a broken, writhing, sobbing, wrecked mess of a boy.

He was broken, and I was out of time.  If I waited any longer, I risked the effects being less intense.

I lifted myself up to straddle his thigh, using my knee to push the ginger further into him while tonguing his ear and stroking his cock.  He screamed, arching his back, his entire body tense as the orgasm I’d spent the last twenty minutes building finally exploded out of him.

He sobbed openly and loudly, my sweet, broken little boy.  I quickly wiped him clean with a towel, then unfastened his cuffs and pulled him into my arms.  I left the ginger inside him, letting it continue burning him as he retreated into my arms, still writhing, burying his face in my neck and clinging desperately to me as he sobbed.

“That’s a good boy,” I murmured, running my fingertips lightly along his back.  “You can rest, now.  You’ve done good.”

As the effects of the ginger wore off and the burning subsided, his sobs gradually quieted, until he was silent, breathing deeply, resting curled up against me.

Finally, I pulled away, sitting up.  He whined in protest, reaching for me, but I gently pushed his hand away.  I knelt between his legs, pushing them far apart, exposing his hole, and slowly pulled the ginger out.

He gasped, his hands clenching into fists, then relaxed as I pulled it all the way out.

I looked down at him affectionately as he lied still on the bed.  I’d pushed him harder than I ever had before.  I’d broken him, brought him low.

Smiling, I lied back down next to him, chuckling as he reached for me, once more burying his face against my body.  Sated, exhausted, and completely relaxed, he took a deep breath, and let out a sigh of contentment as he snuggled closer to me.  A sweet, slutty puddle of boy, just the way I liked him.

“I love you, Domina,” he whispered sleepily.

I kissed his forehead softly.  “I love you too, slut.  Happy birthday.”

Home Early

I come home from a night out with friends and walk into the bedroom to find you lying on the bed, wearing nothing but a cage and your collar.  You smile up at me.

“Did you have fun?”

“I did,” I reply.  “I had a lot of fun.”

“Then why did you come home so early?”

My grin widens and my eyes darken.  It’s a look that you’ve seen many times before, but no matter how many times you see it, it still makes your heart jump and sends chills down your spine.

I approach and I straddle you, one knee on either side of you on the bed.  You reach up to touch me, but I grab both of your wrists and pin them against your chest with one hand.  My other hand goes to your neck, effectively pinning you beneath me, pinning you against the bed.

“There’s something else I’d rather do,” I murmur, leaning close to kiss you.  I take your bottom lip between my teeth and bite down hard, until you’re gasping and whimpering into my mouth.

I devour your mouth, drinking in your moans and frustrated whines as your cock swells inside its cage, aching to be let out.  Then, I turn your head to the side and kiss my way along your jaw, up your neck, and to your ear.  Gently at first, I take your lobe between my teeth.

You begin squirming as my touch sends chills down your spine.

Your reactions fuel my lust, and I rise off of you, rolling you over on the bed, demanding that you get on all fours, your head down and ass up.  Without a word, I pull my thin leather belt off, fold it in half, and bring it down across your ass.

You gasp and tense, but in the next second, you exhale in relief as you realize I could’ve hit you a lot harder.

Your relief is short-lived, however.  Almost immediately after the first, I deliver five more, much, much harder.  Only a short pause, and then another five.

“Aww, does that hurt?” I ask sweetly, running the very tips of my fingers lightly over the stinging, reddening skin of your ass.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“My poor boy,” I reply, somewhat absently, as I examine the marks I’ve left on you, my eyes trailing up your body, at the half-healed welts and bruises from previous beatings.  I don’t have to ask, I know your asshole is still sore from the beating and thorough fucking you’d gotten this morning.

But it isn’t nearly sore enough.  I bring my hand down hard against your hole, spanking you without pause until you’re squirming and writhing.

“That’s my good little slut,” I murmur, using my other hand around your waist to hold you up and keep you still while I continue hurting you, punctuating each sentence with a hard slap.  “This is what you deserve.  You’re a greedy little bitch, always whining that you want more.  Isn’t this what you want?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you grunt through gritted teeth as another slap makes you shut your eyes tight against the pain.

I stop spanking you, lean over and spit directly on your hole, then run the tip of a finger gently over your entrance for a moment, but don’t put it inside.  I just keep rubbing it lightly over your puckered hole, teasing you with the touch, occasionally increasing the pressure enough to make you think I’m about to enter you, only to back off almost immediately.  I keep going, working you into a frenzied pile of want, laughing as you beg me to enter you.

Finally, when you’re whining and begging and babbling, barely coherent, I push a single finger inside, grinning as you push back against me, still wanting more.

“Such a greedy slut,” I say, chuckling as I finger you.

Then, after only a moment, I abruptly pull away from you, removing my finger.  You open your eyes, going still, and moan in frustration and want.

“Stay,” I command, then leave the room.

You take a deep breath, looking after me, and shift slightly.  Now that you’re alone, you become aware of the humiliating aspect of the position I’ve left you in.  Your head down, ass up, waiting for me to come back, and wondering what I’ll do with you.

You don’t have long to wait or wonder.  I return quickly, my strapped-on cock hard and rigid between my legs.

Without a word, I kneel behind you on the bed, press the tip of my cock against your hole, and enter you in one long, smooth motion, all the way to the hilt.

“Get on all fours,” I demand, and you quickly obey, putting your hands underneath you and pushing yourself up.  I immediately grab you by your collar and pull your head back, forcing you to arch your back as I begin a long, slow, thorough fucking.

“That’s my good boy,” I murmur as I slide almost all the way out of you before sinking all the way back in.  “This is what you want, isn’t it slut?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you gasp between moans.  With your caged cock leaking and aching in its cage, the deep ache from previous beatings radiating warmly through your body, the sharp stinging on your ass from the belt and my hand, the combination of your hole stinging and being stretched wide open, and the smooth, steady rhythm of being fucked, all you can do is react.  You can’t put a coherent thought together, can’t focus on anything other than what I’m doing to you.

“Yes, you love this, don’t you?” I ask.  “You love having your sore hole stretched and filled.  I bet you wish my cock was bigger, don’t you?  Such a greedy slut.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Yes, Ma’am, what?”

“Yes, I love having my hole filled.  I love that you keep me sore, and I love being your greedy slut.”

“That’s my good boy.”

I speed up, slamming my cock into you, mercilessly pounding your aching hole until you’re gasping and whimpering and unconsciously pulling away, hoping I’ll stop.

But I don’t stop.  I tighten my grip on your collar, holding you against me as I continue fucking you.

“Stay still,” I command.  “Take it like a good little bitch.  If you do a good job, I’ll reward you later, before bed.”

You close your eyes and grit your teeth, tense and panting as I brutally fuck you, wanting more than anything to please me, to be a good boy, to take my cock because it’s what I want.  You have no idea how long I’ve been fucking you like this, and you have no idea how much longer it’ll be before I stop.  All you can do is endure.

Finally, I abruptly pull out of you and release my hold on your collar.  The movement is so sudden, you gasp with the surprise and have to catch your self from falling forward.  I walk into the next room, taking off the strap-on as I go.  Sighing, your hole stinging and throbbing, you collapse on your side on the bed, sweating and panting.  You close your eyes and wait for me to come back, wondering what I’ll do to you next.

A minute later, you feel me lying down behind you.  With a gentle, soft touch, I spread your cheeks and slowly push a thick plug inside of you, pausing for a moment at the point where it’s at its widest before sliding it all the way in.

With my other hand, I pull you close against me, gently licking and nibbling your ear as I slowly, tenderly pull the plug almost all the way back out and push it all the way back in.

“That’s a very good boy,” I whisper.  Then I sit up and turn the TV on while you curl up in my lap, spent and sated, the plug still inside you.

The Sweater


You used to have this sweater
Once upon a time
It was worthless, you assumed
Not even worth a dime

The thread was a little unraveled
And faded from the sun
The style was from years ago
The hem was coming undone

You hated the thing, you called it trash
Worthless, so you say
You kept it hidden in your closet
And finally threw it away

Years later, I happened upon it
Lying in a pile
The pale colors caught my eye
And I loved the vintage style

It needed some work, I will admit
The fabric was frayed and old
But after only some minor repair
I realized it was gold.

The very first time I tried it on
In front of the mirror, I stood
The image took my breath away
I’d never looked so good.

It’s comfortable in any weather
And it’s the perfect fit
Whenever I go out, people
Stop to admire it.

Now I get flattering looks
Everywhere I go
People love this old sweater
They all want one of their own

But now that you see how good it looks
And what you threw away
You’ve decided that you want it back
But things don’t work that way.

You imagine yourself wrapped in its warmth
Comforting from head to toe
You can want it all you want
But I’m not letting it go

You can’t have the sweater back
It’s not something you can take
You didn’t see the value in it
I won’t make the same mistake.