Cupid Sent Me

On the afternoon of Valentines Day, I realized that I had dinner reservations for two at a local swanky, overpriced restaurant, but no date. I'll tell you why. My newly minted ex had walked out on me for the most trifling of technicalities. I guess three side-chicks was more than she could handle. Bitch! We've all got to know our limitations.

Going through my contacts, I made a couple of calls, but both ladies were busy, and to make matters worse, all my side-chicks were too busy even for a blowjob. Sluts!

I was reduced to paging through the junior varsity team, when there came a knock at the door. I opened the door to a perfect vision of womanly pulchritude. She reached up and lifted my lower jaw back into place and said, "Knock, knock. Anyone home?"

I stood transfixed by her beauty, unable to speak.

She grabbed me by my necktie and pulled me forcefully and close to her face, and then her tongue reached out and licked my mouth. She put her lips close to my ear and whispered into my ear in a way that made my knees buckle, but I was able to maintain my stance.

"I understand that this poor boy has no date for this evening. Well, it's your lucky day. Cupid sent me. He's interested in seeing that you are shown a good time this evening."

Giving me a forceful shove, she commanded, "Get ready. And hurry so we're not late."

At the restaurant a very young and pretty girl met us at the door and took our coats. As my date was checking herself in the mirror, I leaned in close to her and whispered, "Say, later on when you're off work, how would you like your very own piece of the rock?"

The young girl blushed and stammered that restaurant policy forbade customer-employee contacts of that suggested nature.

Meanwhile, my date had come up and grabbed my crotch with a strong grip and told the girl, "He's not going to have anything left later in the evening," and she winked at the girl.

At the table the waitress seated my date and me in a semi-private booth and so quickly and expertly did Mistress undo my fly, reach inside and squeeze my cock hard enough to elicit a wince of pain. She said, "Let's begin, shall we? We'll get along well if you do everything I suggest, and I mean ev-er-y-thing." She punctuated her sentiment by pressing a red fingernail into the head of my cock.

"Ouch!" I cried and looked hard at her. She reached up and grabbed my chin even harder and said, "Little Bitch, if you want anything good to come out of this opportunity, you'd better behave. The first thing to do is realize that you are wa-ay overmatched and submission is the only way to deal with power. And while briefing me on the evening's plan. She spoke as if she had memorized a piece for recitation.

"Cupid has assigned me as your 'Facilitator-in-the-Flesh.' I take my duties seriously and I'm going to facilitate your ass so thoroughly that you must lie on your stomach for a week. Anything less would be substandard work from me."

Immediately, she pressed her prerogatives, for when I ordered champagne, one of the less expensive bottles, she interrupted and said to the waitress, "His French pronunciation is so 'Sacre-bleu,' he means 'Dom Perignon.'"

"C'est bon, Mademoiselle," sleazed the waitress, angling for a big tip, and by producing the required beverage with lightning speed, she was well on her way to her goal.

Mademoiselle was well on her way to operational success, progressing nicely through the dinner by her silent ministrations to my cock all through dinner. In fact, I'm not sure exactly how she ate with one hand perpetually beneath the table. By the time our dessert arrived I had been hard for so long that I was starting to grow more than uncomfortable. I excused myself from the table, made my way to the men's room, and sat down in a stall. I could have stood at a urinal, but with my erection I would have had to stand back at least 10 feet if I wished to hit my mark.

In the stall I discovered a red ribbon tied around my member and marveled at her handiwork, and after a few minutes I subsided enough to release my urine. Ah, relief!

Back at the table, I handed over my card for what I knew must be an astronomical sum, placed my signature on the receipt without looking, and we took our leave.

Back at my place, Mademoiselle, took out a small bag, and retiring to the bathroom, she said, "Excuse me for a few minutes while I slip into something more... comfortable."

In accord with her instructions I knelt on the floor, naked, and waited for her to enter the bedroom.

All sorts of thoughts, all of them featuring lewd activities of what might occur in the very near future. I snapped out of my carnal reverie when I heard her heels click across the hardwood floor as she made her way down the hall to the door of my bedroom.

A sharp, two-rap knock startled me even though I knew she was so near.

"Close your eyes until I tell you to open them."

"Yes, Mistress."

With great effort of the will, I squeezed my eyes shut. My ears told me that she had entered the room, heels clicking on the floor and stopping very, very close.

My nostrils inhaled her heady scent.

"Open your mouth. Wider. Keep it open. Eyes still shut.

I was only too eager to comply with her instructions. I felt something penetrate my oral hole. (You know what I was hoping for.)

She spoke her next command, "Suck."

I closed my mouth around her thumb and felt her fingers on my cheek and I sucked vigorously, not wanting to disappoint.

She began reading from some document that I heard rustle in her hand.

"Cupid Sent Me. There are certain varieties of naughty little boys who need more than standard treatment. Keep sucking! According to your case file, you have been designated as a Bitch and I am here to administer the appropriate treatment.

"You have been so naughty this past year that Cupid reached out to me to enlist a Special Operator to rectumfy, I mean, rectify, excuse my Freudian slip, rectify the situation -- with extreme prejudice. He has authorized me, and I quote, 'Any and all means necessary may be employed to bring subject bitch back into compliance with community norms.

"Here's what's going to happen, you nasty, filthy little boy. You are going to be restrained. You will be tied spread-eagled to the bed. And then I will ravish your body, shake your consciousness, and teach you a lesson that you won't soon forget. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mistress." I couldn't spit those two words out fast enough.

"Um, hmm," with a skeptical tone escaped her red lips. "We'll see about that. You may open your eyes."

Blinking several times to adjust to the light gave a strobe effect which illuminated the most menacingly beautiful woman I had ever seen, and I've seen a lot. Of women. There was that one woman on the train near Amsterdam, but not like...

Suddenly she slapped my face.

I was shocked, but I still noticed that the top of her nipples was shamelessly exposed and I couldn't help myself and looked again.

She slapped me again. Harder this time.

Her stern, dusky voice cut deep and she said, "Your Mistress has eyes. Look me in the eyes."

I looked her in the eyes, but, yes, you know it, they flicked back to her nips just to double check and make sure they were still there and visible.

Slapped again! Real hard! Then she grabbed me by the lower jaw, forcing my mouth open.

"Open!" She spit into my mouth.

"Swallow!" I did. "Just a little rehearsal for what's coming later. Cumming later." And she laughed in seductive manner.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. This is exactly what I was hoping for Valentines Day this year!"

"I guarantee you that this night will stick in your memory -- one way or another."

Although I was denied an eye feast, I am a good observer, so I'll share the bits of visual information that I was able to gather.

Her bra was red and lacy and the cups were too small to hold her ample breasts and, super turn-on, the top sides of her nipples peeked out of their tight restraints. A red thong barely contained her 'strapless'. A red garter belt held thigh top red stockings suspended on her shapely legs. Red strappy sandals cradled her tiny feet with their brightly painted toe nails. She had a small mole on her neck and a scar on her knee, probably from a childhood accident. She stood about 5'8", give or take; approximate weight I calculated at 155.4. Yes, I had read Sherlock Holmes as a young man and learned a few things. Oh, and her eyes were a scintillating gray. Stars fell when she batted her eyes.

Completing her ensemble, an accessory of all legit Mistresses was a short, black riding crop. She slapped it against her palm several times before turning to her bag.

She pulled several items from her bag and then turned her full attention on me. She looked me in the eye for an overlong time, until I lowered my eyes.

"Ah, so there is submission in you. Today, we are going to let you feel your submissiveness in exquisite agony. You will embrace it. You will acquiesce to everything that I propose to you. You will obey my every command. Nothing exists right now except for me and you. You have no one to please -- only me. To add an element of mystery to our activities, there is no safe word. You can trust me as much as you trust the government."

And forthwith, I found myself bound, like Prometheus, unable to resist any predations that might occur. Indeed, I was quite helpless.

She sat astride me, her thong-covered girldick almost in my mouth and as you might expect, my dear old chubb began to stir.

"Sniff it, bitch!"

As you might expect, being in no position to protest, I complied. Her strapless' scent complemented that of her spit. Involuntarily, I licked my lips. Hunger is the best sauce!

"Look at you, bitch. Smacking your lips. You are a real cock whore. I bet you love cum, don't you, bitch?"

"Guilty as charged, Mistress." I couldn't hide my enthusiasm.

"I knew it," she cried. "A cocksucker, cum slut, bitch, and cock whore."

Her barely-clothed snapper moved back and forth at point blank range, but never close enough for my over-extended tongue to reach.

"You want to touch it, don't you? You want to lick it, don't you?" All the while her hands gently rubbed me and every pass over my nipples involved a squeeze, sometimes painful, sometimes not.

Suddenly she suspended all activity and jumped off the bed.

"It might be wise at this juncture to review your present situation with an eye toward pleasing your Mistress."

She climbed up and laid down beside me. She pulled my face toward her but at the last denied me her kiss.

"Mmmmm," she purred into my ear, so close that I could feel the vibration from her vocal chords. Then she sucked my ear lobe into her mouth and bit down painfully on it. But immediately she caressed my neck with soft lips.

"You're an intelligent bitch. You can understand the juxtaposition of pain and pleasure. The pleasure makes you willing to withstand the pain. In time, you will learn to love the pain for its own sake."

With those words she gave my penis a sharp rap with her riding crop. The pain of it sent a shiver to every brain cell and my cry caught in my voice. I would have screamed if possible, but Mistress counted it in my favor and again straddled me with her straining strapless bulging in my face and begging for release from her thong.

"Mistress, may I beg?" I begged.

"What would you do to me if I let you?"

"Mistress, I would forthwith apply my lips and tongue to your strapless. I would kiss, and lick,

and suck, and caress your girldick and, if you allowed it, I would take your cum in my eager pie-

hole and share it with you, or swallow. Your call."

"Would you gag?"

"In various languages, Mistress."

"Polyglot AND cum slut! You may impress me yet."

"Mistress, I only ask for a chance. Even a bitch like me deserves a chance."

"I think Cupid would authorize that," she said as she moved her crotch closer to my mouth.

"Now beg me for permission to suck my girldick, in several languages."

Growing excited, my mind raced to recover the appropriate phrases.

"Ah, ah, S'il vous plaît, puis-je sucer votre bite?

Por favor, ¿puedo chuparte la polla?

Пожалуйста, могу я сосать твой член?

Ole hyvä ja saanko imeä kukkoasi?"

"And German, cock whore?"

"Mistress, if I spoke German, you'd be the one tied to the bed right now."

"You'd be well advised to stop talking, bitch, and start sucking." And she said that after she slapped me several times. I got her point. I kept my mouth shut.

The rest of the session proceeded apace with much pain but even more pleasure. The ending proved anticlimactic, to say the least, for Mistress took her leave before I could finish. She left my pecker standing tall, waving in the breeze, and a nice, red ribbon tied around it in a bow. All dressed up and nowhere to go.

Hello?

Are you still here?

Untie me?

Please?

Happy Valentines Day!