Are We Human? Ch. 02

"You're an awful, awful whore. You're an awful whore who's been looking all his sad life for someone charitable and considerate enough to put you in your rightful place. But you're my personal whore now, just a little sex toy for me to boss around and use when I'm bored."

Speaking soon grew difficult as his pace became increasingly frenzied with every degrading word she uttered. Her hands trembled as she opened his pants and ran her open hand over his underwear.

Struggling against the rising moans, she continued, "training you is going to be real... fucking fun. I'll tie you down and... tease you... bring your dick so fucking close to cumming till you're begging... and pleading like a pathetic... fucking bitch..."

When she attempted more, all that came out were shaky "oh's" and prolonged "ah's." She kept a tight grip on his hard cock and watched herself in the mirror. It filled her with pride to see herself so in control, so strong and beautiful with the sweat rolling down her skin and the moans flying unashamedly from her open mouth and the adorable little pet she had won eagerly working for her orgasm. She loved the sight of it, and laughs intertwined with her moans as she grinded her hips against his face.

"That's it you fucking slut," she called out. "Make me cum! Fucking make me-"

Legs froze and tensed around his head, and Lady Sparrow's personal whore knew what this meant. He flicked the tip of his tongue on her clit until finally, her triumphant bellow cut through the air and her body jerked against his mouth as he kissed her to the end of her explosive session of sensation. When it finished passing through her, she weakly pulled herself off of her seat and then resigned herself to rolling onto the floor beside him. She turned her head to him and, even though she was panting madly, she had to laugh again.

"Jesus, if you thought you looked bad before," she told him, her voice tired but gleeful.

Slowly, Drew sat up and watched the candlelight gleam in the thick wet coating across his face, some of it sweat, some of it a gift from Lady Sparrow. She had ruined his neck and his face now, but at least this he could clean off. If she would let him.

Lady Sparrow appeared behind him in the mirror, kneeling over him and draping herself over his shoulders.

She sighed, "you made me happy. Feeling proud?"

He nodded. She smiled warmly, then stood up and walked to the bed.

"Wipe your face off, dirty boy," she ordered. "Then crawl over to me."

The paper towels were on the desk, same as the night before. When he was slightly cleaner than he was before, he approached his owner on his hands and knees. He stared up wide-eyed at her, his mind racing with possibilities of what could be next. She smirked, reached down to play with her pet's damp hair.

"I wanna hear the sounds you make when you cum."

He bit his lip and nodded again.

"Ask me to let you play with yourself," she demanded.

"Please," he began without hesitation. "I want to cum so badly. It makes me so hard when you use me, please, I can't wait any longer. Please let your worthless whore cum for you."

She sighed and patted his cheek, then she turned around and put her hands on the bedspread. Giving her butt a quick shake, she peered over her shoulder to appreciate the dumbfounded look on his face.

"How does my ass look, slave?" she asked him.

First he whimpered, then he said, "it's beautiful."

He licked his lips, where the flavor of her cunt lingered. Her thicker body type blessed her with a round, healthy butt of perfect symmetry that offered him more than enough for two handfuls.

"Can I...?" he mumbled meekly.

"Stare at it, squeeze it, stroke it, kiss it, lick it, praise its glory and brilliance and perfection. Whatever gets you off, slut boy. Just hurry the hell up with it."

She shook it one more time, and Drew's eyes followed every jiggle, ripple, and quiver of her pale flesh. He fumbled his way out of his clothes and, trepidation pounding in his heart, he raised his hands and closed his fingers around Lady Sparrow's ass. She cooed at his touch and leaned forward slightly, pushing her butt out for him to worship. He massaged her, kneaded the soft mass between his fingers while the blood rushed back into his penis. He slid his left hand down her thigh and wrapped it around his cock, sighing as he began with a slow pace. His right hand tensed on her cheek.

"Where's that other hand going, hm?" she taunted.

Staring forward at her ass, his mind wandered away as he continued to stroke himself. He saw Lady Sparrow on all fours beneath him, his cock snuggled up in her warm, wet pussy. She was pushing back on him, and her beautiful ass was bouncing as it slapped against his thighs. Her grip on his cock tightened to massage every drop from him, and his hand was on her cheek, squeezing to his heart's delight. He was roaring like a madman when he pounded her cunt, and her cries of his name went nearly inaudible beneath the piercing rhythm of flesh crashing into flesh. This was the best, this was heaven, this was everything he had ever wanted.

When he realized it wasn't, he rested his forehead against her butt and closed his eyes. She felt his breath, hot and rapid and loud, on her skin.

Fucking a girl from the back with a handful of her ass would be heaven with anyone else, but heaven was different with Lady Sparrow. Heaven with Lady Sparrow was on his knees, doing as he was told. Heaven with Lady Sparrow was laid out on his back, wrists bound and helpless, staring up with held breath as she looks over her shoulder at him, smirking as her fingers curl gently around his hard cock. Heaven is when she slides the tip inside herself and slowly begins to ride him, nothing but the slightest quaver to her ass. Heaven is faster, her hips slamming downward while every inch of him is drenched in her pleasure. Heaven is the nails digging into his skin and the voice in his ear, telling him how much fun it is for her to use her favorite toy. Heaven is the struggle against the rope, the struggle to survive when the sensation is too much and it feels too good, but she keeps fucking him anyway because his cock is hers to play with to her heart's delight.

"Oh my God," Drew murmured under his breath.

He put his lips forward and kissed her.

"Oh my God," he moaned, muffled against her pale flesh.

"That's right, slut. This is your life now: every time you jerk off, you're gonna be thinking of me. Serving me is the only thing that gets you off anymore. You can't live without me."

Breaking away from her, he whispered, "I can't live without you."

"That cock gets hard for me only. I tell you when to play with it, I tell you where to play with it. It's my cock, and I'm allowing you to use it now, so you better thank me you ungrateful wretch."

She smiled to herself when her voice made his hands clench.

"Thank you for... for letting me play with your cock, Lady Sparrow."

His tired tongue slid up her cheek, and she giggled before reaching back to pet his head. He pumped faster now, started sucking on her skin as she pushed him closer to her butt. His lips hummed on her once again; her slave wasn't going to last long, she could tell. After a solid minute of devoted worship and manic stroking at his throbbing member, he wiggled his head away from her.

"What happens when..." he wondered, pausing briefly to compose himself. "What happens when I have to cum?"

"Well, I reckon you'll spurt out some sticky white cum and make a fucking mess everywhere," she told him. "You're cleaning that shit up, by the way. If you leave a single drop of that shit anywhere in my room, I'll be kicking the orgasms out of your balls for the next two weeks."

A shiver rolled down his back at the thought.

"I mean... am I allowed to cum?"

"Try asking that again."

With desperation and exasperation in his words, he tried again, "please... I'm so close... I can't... I have to cum for you."

"Hmmmm..." she pondered loudly. "I'll have to think about that. You can be patient, can't you? I know you would never, ever finish without my permission.

She repeated, murder in the emphasis, "never. Ever."

Drew curled his toes. He bit his lip. He attempted and failed to slow his hand. He could feel the tickle of imminent climax up and down his penis; there was no stopping it. He was going to disobey her, spray his load everywhere before she let him. And she was going to make him suffer for it. The panic was dwarfed by the overwhelming need to drain his cock. His moans grew stronger, impossible to contain. The threshold had been crossed; with one finger raised toward the consequences, he had passed the point of no return. Like it or not, he was stroking with intent to finish.

Lady Sparrow really was thinking about it. She considered the fun she would have forcing him to break her rules and then punishing him for it. She pictured the pathetic bargaining at her feet, the fear of her flaming in his eyes. The problem with pitiful creatures, however, is that one will eventually begin to pity them. Her pet was broken already, reverence replacing his defiance. There would be time to torture him in the future. Perhaps, he had earned himself a sliver of mercy. A small sliver.

"Cum for me," she acquiesced.

The relief was instant and glorious. Gone was the panic, and with it went the bubbling, burning tension. Drew's cock erupted thick shots, and he continued rubbing to pump out the rest of it. His fingers dug into Lady Sparrow's ass, and he called out her name in a disjointed holler. It had been pent up for a while now, but finally, his every muscle was tingling with joy and chemicals were firing off in his brain like it was the night sky of Independence Day. The intensity shimmered through him, flared up like an exploding star before slowly burning off. He pressed his wet forehead against her butt and let his shaky arms fall limply at his sides.

He managed a weak "thank you, Lady Sparrow."

"My pleasure, darling," she responded warmly.

The two shared a moment of comfortable silence, then she broke it.

"You got it on my foot."

He laughed gently, then apologized. She turned around and sat her butt, slick with sweat and saliva, on the bed.

"Think that's funny, do you?"

She raised the foot up to his face. The long white streak stretched from the pinky toe all the way to the inner ankle. Drew backed away slightly.

"No, no of course not," he stammered. "I'm sorry, I'll get the paper towels."

"No you won't."

Tension returned. Drew's eyes crawled up from the desecrated foot to meet the piercing gaze of his mistress. The smile on her face made his chest tighten.

"But... you told me to clean it."

"And you're gonna clean it."

Lady Sparrow flexed her blue toes. The tightness in his chest threatened to snap him apart. He traveled from her narrowed eyes back down to the long white streak on her foot.

She could barely hear him whisper, "no..."

"You made the mess, and now you're gonna take care of it."

"Please... I've never..."

"But you will."

Drew had been here many times before. The diverging paths opened out ahead of him, each one promising a journey of misery for all who enter. Disobedience was agony, obedience was sickness and shame that would never wash away. The thought of it, viscous and salty in his mouth, made him want to gag. He would rather die than do it, but Lady Sparrow could make him suffer fates far worse than death. The choices she gave him were hardly choices at all; in the end, with or without a fight, Lady Sparrow always got what she wanted. It was obey or be made to obey. Drew closed his eyes, refusing to watch as he leaned down and unfurled his tongue to do as he was told.

"Stop."

He obeyed. Opening his eyes, he saw his tongue frozen a mere inch away from lapping up his own cum.

"That's proof enough for me. Stick your tongue back in your mouth and get the paper towels," she ordered.

Meekly, he asked, "you mean... you don't want me to..."

She put her foot on the ground and leaned in, nose to nose, narrow eyes to wide, terrified eyes.

"Do you want to?" she threatened.

Her pet scampered away on his hands and knees and returned with the paper. He wiped every drop off his mistress,8 then began to sop up the mess on the floor.

"You ate me out till I finished on your face, then you got on your knees, begged me to let you jerk yourself off, and thanked me for letting you squeeze my ass while you did it. And when I told you to swallow the cum off my foot, you didn't even try to weasel your way out of it. You were just gonna submit to me blindly."

Lady Sparrow grabbed him by the hair and pointed his face up at hers. The fear, the shame, and the bitten lip of arousal that she saw made her twinge with hubris. Her ego purred, and her pussy dripped with a yearning for more of his worship.

"And you loved every minute of it, didn't you?"

It all flashed before his eyes, like the highlight reel of life before the moment of death.

It was enough to make him answer, "I adored it."

"Are you just saying that because you know I'll slap my taste out of your mouth if you say otherwise?"

"No, of course not!"

She laughed at the panicked haste in his voice, and the hold on his hair turned into a soft caress.

"Don't worry about it," she comforted. "Saying what I want to hear is probably a good way to keep your suffering to a minimum, so I can't really blame you for doing it."

She gestured for him to stand, then for him to sit on the bed beside her.

"But you can't lie about what I'm going to ask you now, not to save your own ass and not to protect my feelings, if that's a concern of yours."

Abby wrapped her hands around one of his and patted the back of it, emulating the mannerisms of television characters when they want to appear supportive. After all that had happened tonight, the abrupt shock of the changing tone of the room is what brought Drew's anxiety to its peak.

"Who are you going to be when you wake up tomorrow?" she asked him.

After a moment of reflection, he answered with earnest honesty, "I have no idea. I don't even know who I am right now."

"Darling, you're the person you've always been. You're still Drew... whatever your last name is."

"Lawson. What about you?"

"Heyman."

"Then how come-"

"Because it sounds better than 'Lady Heyman.'"

"Fair point."

"Anyway," Abby Heyman continued. "I understand that after however many years of life-"

"Twenty."

Abby sighed and placed her hand against Drew's cheek.

"I'm trying to be kind right now, but every time you interrupt me it really makes me want to hurt you. Please stop being such a tease, at least until I've said my piece," she explained.

Drew tensed visibly, and Abby couldn't help but grin at the sight of her power over him. She desperately wanted to push him onto his back and watch the fear screech across his face, but she controlled herself and elected to give him a small kiss instead.

"You didn't choose this, Drew. I didn't choose it either. It's just something that's hardwired into our brains from the moment we're born, and once those feelings make themselves known, there's no undoing it. You can try to be normal if you want to, living each day hating yourself and constantly suppressing your true desires while you drag yourself through a life of monotonous, mediocre sex. Maybe for you, that's easier than accepting that you're a deviant at heart. Maybe the familiar and the boring are all that make sense to you, and you're petrified of following a path that strays from that.

"But I want something better for you. I want you to embrace the wild and the kinky because even if you're loath to admit it, you want the same thing. You have the chance to experience a kind of pleasure that none of those normal people will ever come close to feeling, and it would break my heart if you didn't realize your potential. Once you outgrow the shame and the awkwardness, you might actually be happy. Do you really think pretending to be someone you're not just to fit in with apathetic people is going to make you happy? It's gonna make you dead, and even though you're a worthless little whore, you deserve more than that."

Drew's nose tickled, threatening a cascading rain, but he shut his eyes tight and took a deep breath, and the rain never came. Being normal had never been his top concern, but he hadn't ever considered himself to be abnormal, and the concept of it intimidated him when it stared him in the face. He was afraid of people finding out, afraid of what they would say about the boy who likes girls who dominate him. He was nervous about the future partners he would have to come clean to, and the reactions they might have toward his twisted fantasies. What would happen to his masculinity? Could he be some woman's pet and still be a man? And even if he did still feel like a man, would the world see him that way, or would they cast him out?

Unsure of how to respond, he changed the subject.

"What was it like when you realized?"

"I wish I could say I was torn up and confused like you were, but honestly all I did was watchGoldfingerwhen I was in middle school and got wet during that scene where he's got James Bond strapped to the table. Once I figured out what it meant later on, I just sort of rolled with it. I was young then, so I didn't really know normal from abnormal yet."

"Lucky you."

"Hey, you're luckier than I am. I have to tell people my sexual awakening was watching Sean Connery almost get his dick cut in half with a space laser. You get to say that you spent a night with a beautiful, mysterious woman whose irresistible charisma changed your life forever."

"I can't tell if you're trying to make me feel better or trying to make yourself feel better."

Abby's eyes narrowed, and Drew saw her self-control finally buckle. He backed up, and she pursued him, slowly and deliberately.

"I'm curious what makes you thinks that being a sassy bitch is a smart idea," she hissed.

"Wait, wait, I'm sorry, please let's just talk about this," he stammered.

When there was no more room for him to escape, Lady Sparrow climbed between his legs and cupped his scrotum in her hand. He felt the tips of her nails in him, and the fear that she had lusted for was finally screeching across his face.

"If you keep up that shit with me, you and I are going to be living out my favorite fantasy."

She leaned in close to the trembling pet before her.

"And I get to be the space laser."

The fear lingered on him for a moment, but once her words sank in, he broke out into a perplexed look. Even Lady Sparrow's expression had to loosen after that.

"Well," he murmured. "I kinda want to be James Bond."

"Well then... that's good. I'm glad we'll both be getting what we want."

"Does that mean you'll let go of my balls?"

Her eyes narrowed at him again. She gave the pair a pair of light squeezes, then released them.

"They feel healthy," she observed coldly.

"Thank you."

"Whatever."

She turned her head and stared off at something that Drew's eyes couldn't follow. Instead, he gazed up at her, at the backlit profile of her face that made her look royal and the plump breasts that rose and fell with her slow breathing. She was gorgeous, and he wasn't sure if he had ever really noticed that before.

"I can feel you looking at me," she informed him, still not staring his way. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," he responded.

She turned back to him with skepticism in her eyes, then, she lay down beside him.

"You're so cute, it's gross. I hate it."

Abby kissed him on the cheek. Drew put his arm around his mistress and placed his head on the soft pillows of her chest.