She walked through the utility room door into the house. Her annoyance was plain on her face as he sheepishly welcomed her home from the couch. "Hey Darlin', how was your day?" Ignoring his attempt at normalcy, she crossed the carpeted floor in her heels and stood, arms crossed, before him.
"You were drunk last night." It wasn't a question.
"I did have a bit to drink...."
"You kept me up all night with your drunken snoring."
"Babe, I'm so sorry, I sometimes loose track..."
"Go upstairs. Now!"
His brow furrowed as he realised that she wasn't asking
"Just a..." Her voice turned low and threatening as she interrupted him.
"I said now."
Knowing that this was not the time to argue, he got up and slouched his way upstairs to the bed room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tried to compose himself. God, she was difficult! After a few minutes he heard her from outside the door.
"Lay face-down and close your eyes."
He complied, starting to smile. This was actually going to be fun! God, what a wonderful woman.
He heard her enter the room and cross to the bathroom, a clatter of objects put onto the counter and the close of the door.
"Take off your clothes and lay face-down, eyes closed."
His grin grew wider as he jumped up and tore off his clothes and dropped them to the floor. "God I love her." he said to himself as he lay down, arranging his swelling organ beneath him.
"God damn, what is taking her so long?"
The sound of the door opening turned his impatience into anticipation. He heard her move next to the bed.
"You will say nothing and obey everything that I order without question." His grin, if possible, grew and his felt his loins respond.
Suddenly he felt her hand grip his hair, lifting his head with a painful jerk. "Hey!" he cried, surprised by the pain. His eyes opened long enough to see a blindfold pulled over him and tightened roughly.
"You will say nothing."
He started to feel a bit of worry creep into his lust. She really did sound angry. Shit. It was only a few glasses of scotch. Big glasses perhaps, but only a few.
"You let me down last night. I expect you to want to be healthy, and to live according to that desire."
She paused and he heard her walk around the bed. Suddenly he felt a red hot sting on his ass. She had caned him!
"What the?" he cried.
By his ear her voice was soft but direct. "If you say another word, make another sound, move when I do not tell you or don't move when I tell you, I will stop. We will go downstairs and we will discuss your drinking problem. If you disagree say something now."
He knew she meant it and remained motionless. She could see his compliance and continued;
Swat. "You kept me up with your snoring." Swat. "You stank of alcohol." Swat.
Blinded by the blindfold, tense from the pain, he suddenly heard a buzzing start. It followed her footsteps around the bed then stopped.
"Oh god, she's amazing!" Swat!
His buttocks were starting to smart. Each swat added to the heat until the throbbing became impossible to bear, until he knew the next time he was struck he must cry out. He bit his lip to keep silent, he dug his nails into his palms trying to match the pain with one he could control and then it stopped. He started when an ice cold cloth was thrown across his burning butt, and then hoped that this was not enough for her to decide to stop.
His dealing with the caning must have softened her heart, because he felt her gloved hand grasp his ankle. It was a strange way of touching someone, like grabbing the foreleg of a horse, or a pet. The touch felt like ownership and it sent chills down his back, just who was this woman?
Once the message was received, her fingers stroked up the inside of his calf, lingered at the back of his knee and then continued up his thigh. The glove's material was soft and warm against his skin, like velvet. She paused as her hand came to the place where his legs come together and his erection clenched painfully. She turned her hand and cupped his balls, weighing them perhaps and then, as if it took a moment to consider it, she squeezed them sharply to the edge of his ability to bear. His breath caught and his entire body tensed, fear gripping him now. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit he chanted to himself through the pain, then it was gone and his cock muscles gave another painful spasm. His breath was coming in pants, his control lost, all he could do was pray that it would not anger her.
"Roll to the far edge of the bed." He complied immediately. She laid something out, it sounded like a tarp and towels. Once, perhaps just a few hours before, that would not have caused him to tremble a little bit. "Roll back, stop." He had ended face-up. The sting of his butt was a reminder of her anger. His cock, painfully engorged, muscles clenched stood stiffly in the air. His balls ached with her treatment and his need, his hands lay at his sides tightly grabbing the towel below.
She held her gloved hand above his navel at just above the height of his penis and drew it down his body. The sensitive head, purple from blood, felt the draft as it passed by. Back and forth the hand flew, each traversal brought it lower until it gently struck his penis and pushed it aside. Back and forth, back and forth, as the hand lowered it brushed more and more with its velvet softness. His body went rigid and his teeth clenched tightly as the waves of sensation broke over him. Again it seemed he could take no more and again she timed the change to perfection - her gloved hand grasped the shaft at the head and smoothly stroked down, firmly but allowing the skin to slip slightly through her hand. Three quick pumps, then nothing. A whimper escaped his throat, but she had already moved back into the bathroom.
He heard her return, half crazed with lust, terrified to move lest she cease. She stood beside him and slowly poured a cup of warm olive oil on his cock, the liquid flowed down the shaft, lapped his aching balls and collected between his legs. His head snapped back, and it was obvious how hard he was biting his lip, barely managing to keep control. He could hear her putting on gloves, the snap of latex. Then the buzzing began again.
One hand, flat, pushed his penis straight up. The other pressed the vibrator up and down the soft underside of his shaft. He had seen her normal vibrator - hell, he had used it on her once or twice, this thing was different; bigger with a coarser, slower vibration. Up and down the shaft, up and down as if she were shaving him with an electric razor. Somehow the motion was not enough to make him come, but to increase his sensitivity. Then, the slow plunge down, the tip of the vibrator moving to below his balls, buzzing, insistent. He could feel his hips start to rock, unable to stop them. The pressure of the vibrator increased slowly, its hum and buzz filling his world. Her other hand curled around his cock, squeezing, releasing, squeezing again. He felt her hot breath on the head of his cock, steady, measured, controlled. "Oh God" his mind screamed, finish me, finish me. Squeeze, release, vibrate, breathe. A sob escaped him, then another. With that her breath was withdrawn and her hand started pumping him, milking him. The vibrator pressure eased, and the tip moved in slow circles. He could feel the orgasm building, his hips jerking more and more. He tried to stop it, her clinical stroke was not the way, he wanted her to go down on him, anything else, but he was powerless. Her hand, its steady, passionless beat called forth his orgasm. The powerful clenches squirted his come across his belly and chest, his body stiffened and then released, emptied.
He heard her step away, heard the latex gloves come off.
"When you hear the door to the bathroom close, you can remove the blindfold and clean yourself up. When I come out of the bathroom you can take a shower, not before."
"Can I look at you?" his voice was timid, pleading.
"This time I will answer your question. You will never ask me another." It was so matter of fact, so truthful. He knew just how close he had come to...what?
"What I wear is for me, not for you. When I wear it I am not your 'Babe' or your 'Darling.' When I wear it you are a piece of meat that I will treat how I want. This time it was a punishment, the next time will be a reward. If you are not deserving of a reward, you will never meet me again." He shivered, she was so cold, so emotionless.
"I am Pandora."