Since You Asked

"I believe you said something about a sandwich earlier? I'm rather hungry now, for some reason. Be a dear and make me a bit of lunch, won't you?"

I glare at you for a second, and then push myself up. Your smug expression further enhances both my frustration and my desire, so I decide to just go with it and do as you say. Again.

"Of course. I'm glad to make you a sandwich," I say, biting back sass and sarcasm, as I walk a bit awkwardly towards the stove. I already know without asking that I'm not to clean myself off or remove any of the little accessories, so my slow walk is accompanied by the sound of bells. Our mixed juices coat my thighs.

Chop! The bread is ready.

Chop! Chop! So is the cheese.

Chop! Chop! Chop! Tomato slices set to go.

Chop-chop-chop-chop-chop! Basil minced.

I smear a bit of bacon drippings on the bottom slice, place it in the skillet, and then pile the other ingredients on top, and dollop on a bit more of the bacon drippings for the top slice, for when it is time to flip the sandwich. During those few seconds of downtime while the sandwich is cooking, I pull down a plate, and then core and slice up an apple and arrange the slices on the plate. I can feel you watching me, but I'm trying to be casual and efficient, like I cook in the nude with clamps on and come dripping down my leg all the time, and it is no big deal. You don't say anything, and I don't either. I just focus on getting things done, trying to ignore the plug and the clamps... and the fact that your cock is already getting hard again as you sit at my table, watching me cook.

After a few minutes, the sandwich is done, and I cut it in half and plate it with the apple slices. I bring it to you with a glass of iced tea and a napkin, and then just stand waiting for you to say something, head still forced up by the collar. I look down, but occasionally glance over trying to figure out if you like what I made you. You have a few bites of the sandwich, eat a slice of apple, drink some of the tea, and then finally speak.

"This is a very nice lunch! Thank you! You deserve a treat. Go get your toy," you say, gesturing to the glass dildo that I had been using to get ready for your arrival.

I quickly go and retrieve it and come back to your side. You push back from the table a bit, sideways, where the hand supporting the sandwich is still close to the table, and then point at the floor in front of you.

"Kneel, little one. Right here."

I kneel, holding the toy by my side in one hand, with the other folded behind my back.

"Put it on the floor and ride it again. I know how much my little fucktoy likes having a full pussy!"

"Yes, Daddy, of course. Thank you!"

It takes a moment to get it in and find the right pace to accommodate it and the clamps and the handle of the glass plug, but once I do, it's an amazing feeling. I'm very full from the plug and the large toy, and it feels like the clamps are directly wired into the pleasure center of my brain. I rapidly get back close to orgasm again. The whole time, you watch me, nonchalantly eating while your cock gets harder and harder.

I can't help but stare at it. I can't help but want it. And I can't help but get closer and closer to coming.

"Daddy, can I come?"

"Stop," you say, once again choosing a time when I am most filled with the hard, unyielding material. I freeze, panting. I am close to coming again--almost as close as I was when you denied me before.

"Crawl over there and get your leash. I don't think I'm going to have bourbon with lunch, but I am interested in using the leash.

I rise up slowly, pulling myself off of the dildo, and then get on all fours to crawl over to the other side of the room. I go at measured, deliberate pace, swaying my hips back and forth, clamped tits swinging with the motion.

"I like seeing you crawling with that plug in your ass," you say from behind me, as I head towards the chair. "Of course, I generally just like seeing you crawl. And I think I am going to greatly enjoy seeing all sorts of things in your ass, over time."

I continue on my path, blushing furiously. The motion of crawling makes my asshole stretch in strange ways, and focuses my attention on the plug that's holding me open. I think about what you might mean by "all sorts of things" and the blush deepens.

After crawling for a few thousand years, I finally get to the chair and get the leash. I decide to carry it back in my mouth. Crawling back towards you, I move a bit faster.

When I get to your feet again, I drop the leash into your waiting hand, and wait there still on all fours. Your hand goes to my throat and pulls the D-ring of my collar out to attach the leash.

"Ride your toy again," you command, letting out enough slack from the leash to let me move into position.

Once I get it inside of me again, I find myself bouncing and bucking and grinding desperately on it, arms folded behind me. I'm staring at your cock, panting and licking my lips, eyes flicking up to your face beseechingly. I'm so close to coming, and so close to your cock, and all I can say is, "Please, please, please!"

"OK, now, darling," you say, "you should eat your lunch, too."

I need no further explanation or invitation. I scoot forward with the toy inside me and begin worshipping your cock. I lick all over it, retrieving my own juices and yours, and then moving my tongue to your balls and the seams where your legs join your torso. You tug on the leash a bit and I return my attention to your cock, rapidly finding a rhythm where I can fuck myself on the toy, and service your cock in a way that I hope you'll find pleasing. I look up at you for approval, and am overjoyed to see that you look like you think I am doing well.

"Oh, that is good, little slut. I like that. You get another treat! You can use your fingers to play with your little clit. You're going to come for Daddy with all your holes filled, like the insatiable little cockslave you are! I'm not even going to make you ask."

My hand flies between my legs, stroking my clit as I bounce and suck. It doesn't take long until I am on the edge of orgasm again. This time, though, I don't stop to ask, I just let it wash over me, riding it out while I continue to service your cock. You pull on the leash a bit while I am coming, making the stiff leather of the posture collar press into my carotids just enough to make things go dim for a second, and then your orgasm comes, filling my mouth with the taste of your essence.

Everything swims and shimmers for a second, and I'm dazed. The next few minutes seem almost strobe-lit.

I'm at your feet, licking you clean, murmuring my thanks.

You kiss me deeply.

You help me take off the collar and clamps.

You walk me down the hall to my room and we shower off together.

You dry me gently and tuck me into bed.

"Take a nap, darling," you say. "You're going to need a lot of energy for dinner tonight."