Compliance Pt. 04

Thank you all so much for the kind words and encouraging feedback. I hope this next installment was worth the wait.

The sight of Olive sprawled over Paul's lap in the afterglow of her orgasm was so delicious, it almost set his heart aflutter. She wore total submission so well. He admired the dewy sheen of her flushed skin and the serene satisfaction in her expression. The firm points of her nipples were rising and falling with her heavy breath, and a few sweaty stray curls framed her round face. She could have passed for a Renaissance sculpture of an enraptured Saint, were it not for the spider gag stretching her lips wide open like a hungry bimbo.

Even though she was past the full-body thrashes of her deep climax, he could still feel her muscles contracting locally around the sensation of the plug in her ass. Considering it seemed to have been a while since she'd done any anal play, he was pleasantly surprised she had taken it so well. A well-trained submissive asshole like hers was hard to come by. It demanded to be pleased, put to use, pushed to its absolute limit, as did the rest of Olive's body. But there will be plenty of time for that, and much more, Paul reflected, as he absentmindedly drew figure eights on her body. He dragged his open palm from hip to hip, lingering on Olive's fuzzy pubic mound before looping back up to possessively grasp her breasts, arcing his grip over her throat between each one. She's not going anywhere.

Olive, for her part, felt utterly overwhelmed. Her body was weak and a heavy cloud of bliss had settled over her mind. She gave herself permission to lie still and enjoy Paul's fondling, in the hopes that the physical touch would anchor her to earth so that she could think clearly. She reclined in his lap like a ragdoll. It was a sloppy mess between her legs where he had eaten her out. Her face was not much better: rivulets of drool streamed down her chin from her protruding tongue. The moisture made her skin slick and a little cold.

It had been so easy for Paul to awaken the submissive side of Olive that she had suppressed for so long. So very very easy. That traitor submissive inside her couldn't help but feel warmth for her master as she noticed his lustful eyes hungrily wandering her body. She caught a whiff of her pussy on his breath and supposed she should feel grateful for his magnanimity.

Well, Paul had made her feel really good, as promised. It had been literal years since she last came so hard. All she'd had to do was let go for a while. At the end of the day, there could be worse things in life than to let go sometimes, and to belong to someone so sexy, who desired her and knew just how to work her body... Indeed, she reasoned, if she succumbed, stopped resisting, and continued to obey, she could feel this good again, forever, and that was a titillating prospect...

Down, girl! Olive quashed that line of thinking impatiently. It was nauseating how submissive she became when she was cum drunk. The angel and devil on her shoulders would fight many fierce battles in the future if she didn't want this weakness of hers to bleed into her work life. Olive dreaded the day they were ever in the courtroom together, because she knew this is what Paul would see when he looked at her. Not a bright law student, a worthy adversary, or a future peer. A drooling, desperate, horny slave who hung on his every word. The imbalance in their dynamic made her feel naked and powerless. She lay in his lap, naked and powerless, and wondered if there would ever be a way this could go differently for her.

"Olive," Paul started her from her ruminations by pinching and tweaking her tender nipples. She yelped in surprise and brought her attention back to his face.

"Did that feel good, baby?" he inquired softly. She nodded, and he leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Very good. I know this is a lot for you right now. I can see the wheels are turning in your head. You've been a very good girl."

The praise made the familiar thrum rise in Olive's eardrums like a tide. A new wave of submission threatened to crash over her ears and swallow her completely. A fresh rope of drool trickled from the side of her mouth.

"What I can't abide, though," Paul continued, "is letting good drool go to waste. Can you be a good girl and show Daddy you know what to do now?"

She felt a flutter between her legs as she realized she was being asked to reciprocate Paul's generosity. She shuddered to think where she might be the next time he made this request. She would be lucky if it only happened in the privacy of his home where no one could see. But, fair was fair. Not seeing any other options, she sat up in his lap, dutifully lowered herself to the floor between his legs, and set to work unbuckling his belt. As she fumbled with the buckle, the nerve endings on her fingers seemed to bristle against the soft leather. Olive blushed as she realized he'd spanked her with this belt before-- in another life, or so she had thought. Her asshole puckered around the plug at the memory.

She unzipped his jeans and freed his cock from his boxers tenderly with her hands. She cradled his balls with one hand while running her fist up the full length of the shaft. Olive was not a petite woman, but Paul's cock had a special way of making everything around it look small. It had surprised her the first time she'd seen it and learned that no, his dominant proclivities weren't compensating for anything. He really was that big.

What am I about to do? Olive lamented as she looked up into Paul's eyes, searching them for any indication of mercy. His expression was affectionate but unyielding as he cupped her chin with his fingers. Then, he pushed his hips forward, forcing his cock through the slippery ring gag and right over her waiting tongue. She felt tears rush to her eyes as she took it into her mouth. Though she could tell he'd showered beforehand, the salty tang of his sweat lingered on her tastebuds. She gagged as the head of his dick reached the back of her throat, and the back of her head met Paul's open palm when she tried instinctively to recoil. He applied pressure, enough to hold Olive's lips against the base of his cock, forcing her to accommodate his full length in her throat. She gagged and sputtered around it but Paul wouldn't let her budge.

"You have to take it, baby," he whispered. He gripped her hair bun tightly and held her there for a minute, waiting for her spasming throat to steady. When her gagging subsided he pulled her off his dick to come up for air. "Very good, baby. Take a breath."

Paul was one of very few people on earth who knew a deep secret of Olive's, something he wasn't sure she even knew about herself-- she loved to suck cock. Though she coughed and gasped greedily for breath, Paul didn't detect a hint of discontent in her watery eyes when she serviced him with her mouth. There was only ever arousal and appreciation. It was one of the best things about playing with her. It was like she had an erogenous zone in the back of her throat, and her soft pink lips practically begged him to exploit it.

Olive's reservations about fawning slavishly over Paul's cock evaporated at the instant he penetrated her mouth. Any thought more complex than the urge to be his devoted cock sleeve had long abandoned her once he had entered one of her holes. Whatever power he held over her seemed to work like the spider gag, the tendrils of his control hooking on to her free will and tearing her wide open. In a word, she was programmed to receive. But to receive, she knew she had to give. So she looked up into Paul's eyes expectantly, and slid her tongue across the ring gag to hang out of her mouth, signaling to him she was ready for more.

"Lee, Ha-hee," she managed to force out of her slobbery forced pout.

Paul bit his lip. "Are you saying please, baby? Are you begging me for more?" He looked so pleased with Olive. She nodded vigorously and pulled at her nipples, trying to show him how horny it made her to impress her master.

"Good girl," he murmured in amazement, and once again thrusted his cock past the threshold of her eager lips. This time there was no gagging. It sunk in easily, as a sword sinks in to the sheath that was made for it. Olive didn't break eye contact as she rocked forward and backward on her knees, taking Paul's dick over and over, flicking the tip of her tongue underneath his frenulum every time she pulled back.

It occurred to Olive that he had not bound her hands, and she could employ them to increase her Master's pleasure. She lightly pressed her thumbs into his hips and caressed the indentations down to the base of his dick, then hungrily began exploring his abs, as if her fingertips could taste his flesh. When she began gently playing with his balls, all the while continuing to suck at a consistent pace, Paul realized he wasn't going to last long at all.

Olive took his cock deep in her mouth hole with one long final stroke and was rewarded with the intoxicating sensation of his cum shooting down her throat. She tightened her lips just under the head of his dick and sucked forcefully while stroking his shaft with her thumb and forefinger, milking him dry. Paul gasped in delight, and at the moment the sound of his pleasure reached her ears, it felt like something resolved in Olive's mind. It was the feeling of a job well done. It was the satisfaction of being a good girl for Daddy.

The submissive self that refused to be suppressed in Paul's presence bubbled back down into the recesses of Olive's consciousness, her mission accomplished. Olive came to her senses enough to reach for her phone and snap a quick picture of Paul. She wanted to even the playing field in terms of compromising material, yes, but she also wanted to immortalize how he looked. His glossy dick lolled out over his waistband, his hair was untidy, and his breathing was heavy. He looked sort of soft and vulnerable in the wake of his orgasm, like any other man would after being graced with a killer blowjob. It was a far cry from the domineering threat to her career that Olive had built him up to be in her anxious mind, and she wanted to remember him in this rare moment of fallibility. His hazel eyes narrowed when he saw what she was doing, but he didn't stop her.

"Be sure to get a flattering angle," he muttered, as he reached behind her head to unbuckle the gag and release her mouth. She winced and massaged the tension out of her cheeks and jaw.

"Trust me, your dick doesn't need the help," she retorted, as she wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve. Paul chuckled.

"On that note, open wide," he requested. Olive squinted at him skeptically and he couldn't help but laugh out loud at her apparent reluctance. "What, now you put up a fight?" he teased. He waited for her to comply before grabbing a bar of dark chocolate from a nearby drawer, breaking off and placing a single square on her tongue. Olive had forgotten about this post coital ritual of Paul's, but the memories it brought back were not altogether unpleasant.

"Now...how about Chinese for dinner?"