Amelia's Story

"What do you say," she teased as one might to a child, "what's the magic word?" More of the frantic nose breathing escaped him, and he looked up at her. Michael's tortured face betrayed his thoughts; she was asking him to beg, but she hadn't given him permission to speak. Desperate to obey her, all his willpower was being spent between holding his tongue and keeping his hips from thrusting against her without permission. She left him in that agony for a second, pushing the head of his cock against her lips of her pussy so that the head only just began to push inside. Michael just stared at her, holding his breath in his effort to obey.

"You may speak," she said finally, and a Michael's "please" came out in a desperate exhalation. Still, he controlled his hips enough to not thrust without permission, but she could tell that his willpower was failing. She looked down at the head of his cock in her hand and saw it swell with his anticipation of being able to fuck her at last. Slowly, agonizingly, she slid herself down, letting him enter her in glacially deliberate half inch slides. He let out a long, loud, throaty groan that seemed to contain the entire evening's worth of stopped up speech and began thrusting up into her like a man possessed. She slid her hands up his belly and chest, one resting on his nipple, the other sliding around his neck and pulling his head up, making him look at her. She watched his eyes drink her in for the hundredth time since he got home, his bound hands gripping her bare thighs as he pumped frantically up into her. Unleashed at last, he was doing all of the work, and Amelia simply held on and rode his thrusts.

Given all of the teasing and stimulation, she didn't think he could long like this, and her suspicions where confirmed when he suddenly ground to a halt, pulling his cock back and grimacing in horrible discomfort. For a moment, Amelia was confused. Again, her old self began to rise through the cloud of her dominatrix persona. Had she hurt him? Did he pull a muscle in his back? The persona reasserted itself when she realized what was wrong with him: she hadn't given him permission to cum. He was pulling himself out of her, his clenched teeth and pained expression showing just how close he was to release and just how much effort it was taking for him to hold it back.

Teasingly, she slid herself just a little bit down his cock, resulting in an agonized groan. She bent her face down to his ear, pushing her breasts against his chest. He was now shaking with the effort of holding his orgasm back, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Cum for me," she whispered, and bit down into his earlobe as his whole body shuddered underneath her. Michael let loose a guttural cry, his toes clenching and his hips rocking against her, each time losing energy as he pumped out the last of his cum. With that, she felt his body go limp underneath her; every strained muscle suddenly losing strength and leaving him exhausted and spent.

There was a long, still silence during which she lay on him, rising up and down with his chest in time to his panting. He was relaxed now, the fear and strain of having to anticipate her needs had receded. He had cum hard, and she doubted he could even speak, but he surprised her.

"That was amazing, honey. Thank you," he said dreamily.

Amelia felt her old self returning to the surface. She had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. She'd brought Michael's fantasy thoroughly to life, not just dressing the part, but finding a devilish new side of herself in the process. In fact, she could clearly see that she and Michael would be revisiting these roles regularly from now on whether he asked for it or not. Laying there, her mind began racing, thinking of all of the twisted things she could do to him. He needed a collar, she thought, and some good restraints. She thought of what she could do to him if he was really bound, testing his limits. Ideas from her "research" that seemed several steps to far didn't seem nearly so extreme now that she had let her new persona take reign. Maybe she should get a strap on, she mused, and really take control. In her rising excitement, she began grinding her hips against him, shifting his softening cock inside of her. Michael let out a happy, satisfied little moan, but showed no signs of being up for another round.

The comfort in his voice was suddenly infuriating. She was ready to go again, and he was content to just lie there. A wave of disdain washed over her as her new persona came back to the fore. She pulled herself up to a kneeling position and slid herself off of his wet, limp cock, putting her hand between her thighs to catch the cum that started leaking out of her.

"Michael," she said, crawling up his chest, "You're not finished." At the tone in her voice, his body tensed beneath her, jolted out of its weary relaxation. He opened his frightened eyes just in time to see her lower her cum-filled pussy down on to his face, pushing it down against his lips.

As he haltingly opened his mouth and extended his tongue into her, she knew that things in this house had definitely changed.