Mr. Bear Ch. 4

“Oh, god! Goddess—please, Mistress, oh, fuck—oh, thank you, Mistress, that was ten!” he gasped, thighs straining, arms straining, stomach trembling as his head twisted.

Curious as to just how erotic he found this little paraffin play, I crouched to one side, waited until the candle was just right, then pushed his bone-hard shaft down with my free hand, and deliberately dribbled a streak of hot wax up the length of his shaft.

Without counting, without permission, and without warning, he came. This particular bear clearly liked cock-torture. Unfortunately. Hot semen splatted against the underside of my right arm before I could jerk it completely away. Rising, I blew out the candle as he continued to cum, shuddering with pleasure. Nothing else touched his cock, just the cooling, solidifying wax. By the time his breathing had calmed down a little, I had tucked the equally cooled candle back into the basket. Crouching next to him again, I held my elbow up to his mouth.

“Lick.”

The simple command had him sticking out his tongue. He flinched at the taste of semen, hesitated almost long enough for me to open my mouth and administer more demerits, then leaned forward cautiously and started flicking his tongue at my cum-stained skin. From his frequent grimaces, he didn’t care for the taste. He didn’t complain, though. Glancing at his lap, I found his half-shrunken penis was growing again. Flakes of dried red wax were coming off of his skin as he finished lapping up his own ejaculate from my arm. He finished his newest task with a broad stroke of his tongue, questing over the skin of my forearm to make sure he had gotten it all.

“Good little bear,” I praised him softly, and straightened up. Moving around him, I removed the blindfold, leaned over his shoulder, and pointed at the floor, where his other cumstains had fallen, just missing the seat of the chair. “How clean is this floor?”

“…Fairly clean, Mistress,” he murmured, though there was a hesitancy in his voice. “I, uh…it’s not quite clean enough to eat off of, I think.”

“Ten demerits for not having our playspace perfectly clean. Ten demerits for cumming all over the floor without my permission…and twenty demerits for interrupting your punishment session with an orgasm, yet again. How many is that on your tally now, Mr. Bear?” I asked him, straightening up.

“Uh… Twenty, forty… Fifty, Mistress?” he asked hesitantly. “With the missed ten?”

“Fifty, Mr. Bear,” I agreed coldly. “We shall have to find some new method of teaching you how to behave in My presence.”

Mr. Bear shivered at the delicious threat implied in my Dominant tone. Now the pressure lay on me, to come up with something truly memorable, but that was alright.

I was more than ready for the challenge.