She liked the idea of using him for his cock. A lot. In fact, she often fantasized about a world where men existed only for her pleasure, mouths and pricks to please her whenever she desired. Would these males get their own gratification from their activities in satisfying her? She didn't care one way or the other, so long as they performed as often and as long as she demanded. It was a daydream that had, as of yet, only existed in her kinky imagination. But tonight she decided she wanted to live her fantasy.
He enjoyed their roleplays together, their experiments in power exchange and psychological sex games. She often took control and they both enjoyed all the facets of this arrangement, though his interests rarely strayed into being used for his cock -- he was much more inclined toward her superior role as a humiliatrix, forcing him to kiss the toes of her gorgeous friends or endure her mocking belittlement or beg hopelessly for sexual release. She knew this. She knew that simply being used for his cock was not his roleplay of choice, that he would get little from it. He certainly would never request such a game. And this excited her all the more. After all, this way tonight she would be using him . . . for real.
She immediately struck on a problem, though. Just the idea of this game already made her pussy hungry for pleasure, and as her lips started to moisten in her panties she realized he'd never last long enough to be used to her full satisfaction. Her mind raced, attacking this problem and searching for a way to make her fantasy a reality. Desensitizing cream? A cock ring? An initial ruined orgasm so he would last longer? All held appeal and might keep him hard, but were uncertain. Finally, she came to the solution...
The little blue pill. He'd gotten a sample once from the doctor but never taken it. This, suddenly, seemed like the ideal time for a test run. She smiled to herself as she pulled open the bathroom drawer and searched through to the bottom until she found what she was looking for. She turned it over in her hands several times, giddy at the prospect of its usefulness.
"Better living through medicine," she thought.
She popped the pill from its protective sleeve and brought it to the living room where she set it gently on the bar next to a glass of his favorite beverage, both ready for his consumption. She then awkwardly dragged the large oak table that normally filled the dining area off the kitchen into the middle of the living room. With its leaf installed it was the only thing in the house long enough to work for the game she'd constructed in her head.
Then, wandering the house, she gathered the other props she'd need to make this fantasy come true. A spandex hood that only opened over the nose and mouth; three enormous rolls of black bondage tape that had sat, unused, in their toy chest for many years; several pieces of rope; a roll of duct tape; and, finally, a soft mattress pad that she placed over the table, both to protect the wood and her evening's victim.
Finally, she went to the closet to select her outfit. She poured over the options -- frilly lingerie, strict leather, soft silk, sexy lace, and a variety of slutty costumes from naughty schoolgirl to Little Bo Peep to Cleopatra. After 15 minutes of careful consideration, she finally made her choice -- she'd wear exactly what she was wearing when she began her search.
She looked over to the full length mirror to study the slacks and blouse she'd had on all day at work. It seemed the most appropriate. After all, why would she dress up for him? He was there the be used, not pleased. Plus, the idea or remaining fully clothed while he was forced to strip naked excited her. It would further emphasize his debased status, turning him both physically and psychologically into something purely there for her use.
A glance at the clock showed he'd be home soon. She'd warned him she was setting up a sexual fantasy for the evening, but had given him no details. She poured herself a stiff drink, smiling at the idea that, when he arrived, neither her outfit nor the items in the room would tip him off to her plans. It wouldn't be until after he'd taken the pill that he'd learn of his position for the evening.
Her fingers slipped down the front of her pants and between her legs, and she found that her panties had already soaked through. She badly wanted a cock -- not his cock -- just any cock, one that she could ride for as long or short as she wanted, as fast or as slow, as hard or as soft. One that was there to serve her needs, whatever they may be. Tonight she'd get that.
She fell backward into a chair in the corner of the room, and her body tingled in anticipation. The seat was soft and cushy, and she downed the rest of her martini before leaning back into it, her fingers resting gently on her inner thigh. He'd be home in a few minutes...and she could hardly wait.
When he pushed the door open she was already halfway through her second cocktail, and his eyes scanned the room as she greeted him softly. He muttered an unintelligible, distracted reply. She saw his gaze move from the odd table sitting in the middle of the room to the pile of toys she's prepared and then back again, trying without success to determine what she'd prepared. She was delighting in the mystery she'd created, and she beckoned him to come in.
She didn't rise to meet him as he pushed further into the room, though; she simply offered him the drink she'd poured earlier and suggested he take the blue pill sitting next to it. His lips curled up at the proposition, and she knew what he was thinking -- that her game for the evening was simply to try out the sexual enhancement drug that had been sitting in the bathroom drawer unused for the better part of a year. Little did he know...
Without a word he made his way to the bar, tossed the tablet into his mouth, and downed his drink in three big gulps. He turned back to her, probably expecting to head straight for the bedroom. Instead, she rose from her chair, a grin on her face, and said, "Perfect. Now we will begin my little fantasy."
She caught a brief look of puzzlement as it washed across his face, but he quickly shrugged it off and nodded, seemingly ready for whatever she might have in store. No doubt the double shot of whiskey he'd just swallowed helped make him compliant, but she knew he was always up for trying any of her fantasies, and she was desperate to begin.
"Tonight," she stated, simply, "I will be using you." His eyes widened a bit, and she knew he wasn't exactly sure what this meant. At least he didn't know the extent to which she'd use him. She loved that.
It wasn't barked out as an order, simply as a matter-of-fact statement with which there was clearly no arguing. Without hesitation he started pulling off his clothes, dropping them onto a pile on the floor. When he was down to his boxers he paused and looked up at her.
"Aren't you going to get undressed? Or do you have some special outfit you're going to wear?"
She looked at him quizzically, as if he'd just asked the dumbest question in the world. Her answer was as patronizing as she could muster.
"I'll be wearing this. I'm not here to please you. I told you, I'm going to use you. You're simply here for my sexual gratification. Even if you get no pleasure whatsoever out of this, that's of no concern to me."
He swallowed hard, not quite knowing what to say, and her eyes traced down his body and landed on his boxer shorts, which he was still wearing. Her eyes bore into him, and he stood, frozen, seemingly unsure of what she wanted. Finally, after a firm nod of her head, he realized what she was waiting for and he slipped the underwear down to the ground.
"Good," she said, almost dismissively, "Now fix me a drink."
She stared at his naked body as he turned to the bar and started mixing. Her body pulsed as she thrilled to the situation she was creating, a nude male "object" here to cater to her every whim. Her eyes moved over his cock, which was still relatively soft. She wasn't sure how long the pill would take to work -- or even if it would work -- but she hoped it would be soon.
When he'd finished shaking the beverage he poured it into a glass and brought it to her. She took it without a thank you and simply said, "Hands and knees." He didn't argue, and seconds later she was sitting on his back, using him as a chair while she sipped her drink. She clicked on the stereo, and as the pulsing beat of the music filled the air she felt a rush of power.
It didn't take her long to down her third martini of the evening, and as she drained the glass she stood up, telling him to stand and then lie down on the table she'd prepared. He knew enough not to question her, and she appreciated how easily he'd fallen into his role.
The fantasy in her head was clear -- there's no way he'd be able to put his pawing, grubby hands all over her perfect body, so she started by tying his wrists and ankles, spread-eagled, to the four legs of the table. He didn't resist, but she secured him tightly, wanting him to know that he truly had no control over what was to come. She also quickly pulled the spandex hood over his head, anonymizing him and sending her deeper into her fantasy.
Her eyes scanned down his body and she saw his cock was semi-hard. Not ready yet, but there was still time. She wanted to reduce him further to a simple appendage and mouth, so, with the large rolls of black bondage tape, she started wrapping his entire body to the table. She stretched the tape across and between his bound wrists, then passed it under the table, before pulling it again across his body. She continued this way all the way down to his feet, mummifying him to the table surface and only leaving a gap over his mouth, nose, and his still-growing cock. When she finished, he was little more than a black plastic mass with a dick bobbing out of the center, completely unable to move.
He moaned a bit as she stepped back to admire her work, tickled pink that she now had a real life dildo to use. The semi-erection bobbed slightly in the air, but it still wasn't as hard as she wanted. She decided to fish the drug's box from the trash and read more about it, and quickly discovered the problem:
This drug helps achieve harder erections for up to four hours, and will help keep you hard. You must, however, become aroused to achieve an initial erection. This drug has no effect in the absence of stimulation.
She looked back at the cock and realized she'd need to excite it for the drug to kick in, but she certainly wasn't about to suck it or even stroke it manually. That was beneath her. Instead, she decided to give him a bit more time to get aroused with the encouragement of her now-dripping pussy. So, because he now was unable to see, she slid out of her pants and g-string and climbed onto the table to straddle his head.
"Get hard!" she demanded as she pushed her engorged wet lips to his face, and his tongue quickly extended to receive them. The new added wetness on her pussy from his mouth made her clench her eyes in pleasure, and she started to ride his wrapped face, quickly nearing her first orgasm. Because his head was totally immobile she was in complete control, and she pushed her clit repeatedly across the tongue beneath her that, in her mind, now belonged to an anonymous sex slave. Her legs clenched together around his plastic-enclosed face, and she nearly suffocated him as she brought herself to orgasm on his mouth.
She rarely got off simply from oral stimulation, and her first climax was bigger than she had anticipated, no doubt because of the total power and freedom she was feeling. Her toes curled and she screamed out, "Oh fuck yeah!" as her juices dripped down onto the encased face below her. As her thrusting subsided, she lifted herself up and turned back to see his cock still bobbing in the air, but still only half-hard.
He heard her muffled grunt of disapproval, and she swung her leg up and dismounted the table to head for the bedroom. As she walked she pulled off the blouse and bra that she was still wearing, stopping briefly to admire her own naked form the the full-length mirror. The room was overwhelmed with the smell of her sex and the thumping beat of the music, and she felt consumed by her own lust.
She was a bit irritated that she had to go to extra lengths to get her human dildo fully erect, but anything short of completely rock-hard would be a waste. Apparently she'd have to help, but she was determined to punish him for making her do so. No matter, she would get it so stiff it felt like it was about to burst. Plus, she knew that, after she got started, the little blue pill would keep it hard for as long as she wanted. After a few moments she returned to the living room, and she leaned down toward the wrapped head of her slave.
"Guess where I've been," she whispered, loud enough so he could just hear her over the music and through his bonds. "Digging through the hamper. And I found the nastiest, sweatiest sock I could down near the bottom."
He opened his mouth to respond, and, when he did, she pushed the dirty sock into his mouth. It was filthy and wreaked of sweat, and she was sure he would recoil if he wasn't fully restrained -- anybody would. But it was her next line that she knew would fully demean him.
"Do you know why that sock is so disgusting?" she asked, pausing for him to consider what she might say next. "Because it's not mine...it's yours."
She laughed wickedly, knowing this was not what he expected and certainly not any fantasy he would've ever hoped for, and as he tried to push the funky garment from his mouth with his tongue she clasped her hand over it and purred, "Oh no, no, no. Pathetic slaves who don't get hard on their own get punished. That's staying in for a bit, so you better learn to enjoy the taste."
For a moment she wished she could see his eyes and the combination of shock and pleading that they must be showing. That thought quickly disappeared, though, when she looked back at his cock to find it now fully erect, her humiliating exercise clearly having had the desired effect. She reveled in the delicious irony of him hating the things that got him excited, and the utter pleasure she felt in manipulating him with those things.
She stood by the table soaking in the scene for a moment, fingering herself gently and enjoying the anticipation of what was to come. Then, ready for her first ride, she pulled the sock from him mouth and quickly replaced it with a piece of duct tape she'd prepared.
"There," she said, "That'll keep you quieter while I enjoy myself. I wouldn't want any of your noises to distract me while I picture myself with a real man."
She gave the engorged dick a flick with her fingernail, delivering just enough pain to make him moan and test the gag -- the tape effectively muffled him. She looked up at the clock and it had only been 15 minutes since their game began, but it felt like days. She wanted it to go on forever, and her mind flashed on a fantasy of a collection of objectified slaves, all bound to a row of tables and ready for her use. She imagined the different sizes and shapes of cocks for her to choose from -- just like her collection of latex dildos -- so she could be fully satisfied, whatever her mood. Tonight, though, the cock before her was what she wanted.
She climbed up onto the table again and positioned her swollen pussy lips over the 8 inch prick that extended from the plastic mound below her. Her hand firmly grabbed the shaft, and, as she lowered herself onto the tip, an audible gasp escaped her lips as it first entered her. The wetness between her legs was so intense, though, that with one push she slid all the way down the rod, filling herself with the pulsating cock.
She felt it twitch inside her as she started to ride it, thrusting up and down. Her hands found their way onto her firm, round breasts, and she pinched each of her nipples, moaning and slamming herself down on the dildo with more force. Visions of beautiful hard bodies, both male and female, filled her head, and she clenched her eyes shut to momentarily forget where she was. As sexual scenes permeated her imagination, she became desperate to feel her toy unleash its warm load and squirt into her -- she loved that feeling -- and she could tell it was getting close as she squeezed it between her thighs.
She sped up her thrusting. In the background, beneath the music, there was a barely audible murmur from the table, and then she felt the cock jerk and spasm twice just before it exploded and filled her dripping pussy with heat. Waves of pleasure shot through her body, and her lips tightly gripped the shaft, pulling it deeper inside. The music barely covered her loud cry of pleasure, and it seemed as if time froze as the intense orgasm flowed through every cell.
It never even occurred to her to consider if the slave tied beneath her had enjoyed his orgasm. Her fantasy had become her reality, and she had replaced her husband in her mind with an object that had the sole purpose of satisfying her. But she wasn't yet satisfied -- that orgasm came too fast, and she needed to cum one more time. Luckily the little blue pill seemed to have kicked in, because the dick she was sitting on didn't soften one bit after its orgasm.
She knew the cock would be extremely sensitive after cumming, but fortunately any protests of discomfort would be blocked by the tape deftly placed over the slave's mouth, and with her carefully executed bondage there would be no chance of escape. Not that it mattered -- she felt no pity for the anonymous object beneath her as she began to ride her toy once more.
Her mind wandered to the possibility of removing the duct tape just long enough to insert another pill so she could keep the cock hard even longer. Perhaps her friends would even want to come over for a ride. They wouldn't even recognize the "thing" strapped to the table, they'd just enjoy the pleasure of using it. She smiled at the thought of sharing her creation.
The music faded into a new song as she began to rotate her hips in small circles, beckoning the tip of the prick toward her g-spot with each rotation. She gyrated in time to the beat, and felt herself start to approach yet another climax. Despite her dripping pussy, she knew the cock must be getting sore, and the idea of torturing it with one more ride got her even more excited.
She leaned forward and pressed her hands onto the plastic-wrapped chest of her slave, varying the speed of her fucking from fast to slow and back again. There was a swell of pleasure with each thrust, and she expertly brought herself closer and closer to climax. The music began to get louder, and as it crescendoed, so did she.
She felt a slight movement under her ass, as if he was trying to buck upwards into her. The bondage tape kept him firmly held to the table, though, and she smirked at his predicament, knowing he had to just lay there and take it. She pushed harder on the cock, one finger moving down to tease her clit, and she imagined leaving him this way until the morning when she could wake up and use him again.
Then, with her head thrown back she gave one final thrust and erupted into the largest orgasm she'd ever felt. Her pussy quivered around the shaft as her body, glistening with sweat, collapsed down onto the heap of plastic. She lay there for a long moment, reveling in her own pleasure, the thrill of power still coursing through her veins.
Finally she slid off of the cock and the table, and leaned against its edge to steady herself as she stood next to her slave. The prick still bobbed in the air, engorged and seemingly ready for more. She was done with her fantasy for the evening, though, so she pulled out a knife and carefully cut away the bondage tape before untying the ropes around his wrists and ankles.