'Do You Want to be my Slut?'

As the final crescendo of the music swells, I lean forward in my seat, my eyes fixed upon you for the last cue of the night. I glance between your hands, your talented fingers, to your face, eyes closed sometimes, focussed and taking in the moment entirely, one might even say deservedly milking it. You look up at me, confidently knowing I'm watching you, and I think I see a smile flash across your face before you turn and lead everyone into that last flourish. As you give the final gesture, the band buttons the song and I hit a button as one - the lights change perfectly on time. The synchronicity of it gives me a final burst of adrenaline. All of us following that final command together. Your command.

Another show done, the usual congratulations and burble fills the venue as I pass through it, not looking your way but knowing where you are, feeling you like a magnet in the room, but resisting. Slowly the auditorium and then the dressing rooms empty, and I am left collecting laundry alone. I discover a stain on a shirt, and sit down to apply some stain remover before it goes in the wash. I am slightly giddy, having felt hyped up for a few days now, thanks to you.

Over the time I've known you, your eyes and words have shown me there's a side to you I'm drawn to. We have toyed with words, with looks and not-so-accidental brushes of legs, the tension thick between us yet hidden so well from others' eyes. Today I was brave enough to kneel before you in blatant public, adjusting some cables around your position, showing you how well I could present myself for you. Thinking about these moments as I tend to the stain, I smile lightly to myself, and clock the little thrill that passes through me. My body has felt like there is a constant buzzing under my skin from our interactions, but still somehow extra rushes of sensation happen all the time - and we've barely touched.

I'm so lost in thought, your greeting doesn't even register as words, but my breath catches as you walk nonchalantly in. And lock the dressing room door. The sound echoes in the room, and something deep in me knows not to move, so I only raise my head to see you in the mirror. You turn from the door and our eyes lock - reflections that look further apart than my skin says we are - the buzzing has increased. My breathing is shallow, and your eyes drag off mine and down to my tits, far more on show than they were commonly a few weeks ago, the swell rising and falling with my breath. A wide and low cut top allows just a peek of lace from my bra on either side. Just enough to look accidental, unless you know it's not. You've been tortured by it all day.

In the stillness of the moment, my nerves push me to go to turn round to you but you stop me with a voice low and steady - 'stay there'. My brain is trying to catch up with what is happening, and it can't quite keep up. Do I finally get reality after all the fantasy? I can't find words, so I just nod, and settle back into the seat, still holding the shirt and stain pen. You close the distance between us and take them out of my hands, putting them to one side, capping the pen, which makes me chuckle, releasing a little tension, and I utter a light 'thank you' with it. 'I'm sure you can repay me somehow', you quip - 'I'll think of something'. I hear the move in your voice from playful to utterly meaning it and it makes me swallow with anticipation. The promise of so much lies in that tonality.

You step behind me as we banter, and suddenly your hands lie on my shoulders, firm fingers massaging at the knots. It makes me moan a little, the unexpected pleasure of it, the confidence of the touch, release of the muscles, everything in me softens. And then just as quickly as it started, it ends. Your hands slide down over my collar bone and are around my neck. The softness in my body switches immediately to that place that isn't quite tension, more like my whole body stands to attention - the buzz is so intense it's almost a note sounding in my skin like a gong reverberating. Even though the pressure of your hands is fairly light, it's firm, and it speaks to power and knowledge abound - it's exactly in the right place to hinder my breathing just enough that I know it could increase, my breath decrease - if you wanted. My instincts have kicked in anyway, and as soon as your hands went there I had held my breath as a shiver passed through my chest into my nipples, hardening them. Something about this moment sets a course in me, and I have that heightened awareness that happens now and then, when you know you will remember this moment, be able to conjure it at will and have the same thrill.

You noticed, of course, my reactions, and a little 'mmph' of pleasure escapes your lips. You can see what a good slut I have the potential to be. How I could eagerly rise to the challenges you set for me. But with such a plethora of possibility, where to start? I watch your eyes and see all this flash through them, and I can't help but bite my lip at what I could have coming to me. Or on me. Your hands loosen, and I take a deep trembling breath, and this time it's me that moves quickly. A flash of need gives me courage. Standing and turning to you, I step close to you, hands on your forearms, and lean in. When my lips are an inch from yours, I whisper 'please' and your blood surges.

You close the gap between our lips, and our bodies close the gap between one another immediately after. It's electric and intense, and after a short time you break away, your hand having been snaking over my back and ass during the kiss, desperately touching what has been forbidden, clasping me to you, you now still and hold me to you with a hand flat on my back. My hands rest on your shoulders, having been doing the same myself to you. As we catch our breath, you look intently at me, and I can see this is the moment of no return.

'Do you want to be my slut?' - the question is delivered calmly, lightly, layered with the filth and promise the word conjures, yet with a healthy amount of consideration in it. I know I could say no, and nothing bad would happen. For this moment, you give me my chance - here's where I really choose to give up my control. I make myself resist the people pleaser urge to just say 'yes', and consider. While I do I stare in your eyes, and I realise as I do, I'm letting go already. There's an unsaid communication there, that I've half had with you before in public, but now that we're alone and it's real - what I see in your eyes - I know I want this. Need this. My voice is as strong as I can manage in the moment - 'Yes please Sir, I want to be your slut'

You smile broadly, and kiss me quickly again, before trailing away from my lips and down my jawline towards my neck. Your nostrils fill with my perfume, lightly undertoned with the sweat of a night's hard work. The noise it creates in you is guttural, primal - it sends a shiver through my body that you feel ripple down me. You step back and grab the hem of my top, pulling it upwards and off my body - my arms extend upwards to help you without even an instruction - and you take advantage. Once the top's over my head you gather it in your hand and pull back - my arms still caught in the sleeves, bend and drop behind me following your movement. Your eyes assess me but my body knows what to do, and I let my arms be trapped stretched back, hands behind my neck where the top in your hand now holds them.

What this of course means is, I am now arched with my breasts presented to you beautifully. Your eyes take in the bra, black lace and - 'oh... front fastening... very convenient'. I smile a smile a little too smug in response, and you tighten your grip on the top holding my arms, pushing my tits out into your devouring lips and tongue. It's a meal you've had to look at for long enough. You kiss and lick the parts not covered at first, and then you glance up at me, and slowly your mouth moves down and I feel your breath engulf my nipple. It's already a tight bud and a little tortured noise comes from my throat - which is when you take it in your hot mouth and the noise develops into a cry of pleasure.

You pull the material off what of my breast it actually covers, and run your tongue around the outside of my nipple, teasing, watching my reactions. Your mouth goes to cover it, and as you take it in your mouth you give just a quick sharp suck - it's so sensitive my cry reveals a little bit of anguish, amongst all the pleasure. Your eyes gleam, and you pull free the other breast. Both spill over the bra, and you step back to take in the picture, releasing the top. My eyes widen, excitement simmering in me - but I don't move. You tilt your head appraisingly, but with a reassuring smile - 'you can put your arms down - ditch the top'. I do as I'm told, all the while looking at you.

'Lose them too' you nod towards my jeans. I eagerly kick off my shoes, pull off socks, and go to hurriedly take off my jeans, but... 'Slowly' stops me and I remember myself. Who I am in this moment. I take a breath, summon my inner stripper, and as I slowly and languidly pull my jeans down I turn back to the mirror, so I can watch you. As I bend the curves of my butt are revealed to you, thong nestled lightly in my ass, and as I bend over to step out, you see my lips pushed up against it, a dark patch giving so much information away.

I straighten, after a beat, but stay with my back to you, naturally knowing to wait for my next instruction. This isn't about following the desires I have to touch you - this is a moment you get to direct. You watch me in the mirror, taking in front and back in one view. My eyes are darkened, my lips parted, standing before you my breasts bare but framed by lace, it and my thong dark against my pale skin, tendrils of hair escaped from the clip wisp around my neck. For a minute we just stand there, you letting me feel how exposed I am, your eyes telling me all the things you want to do to me. Then you step forward and stand behind me, I can feel the swell in your jeans against my ass, and I shimmy back into it, as your hands explore my body. My eyes start that soft closing of pleasure, my body flexes into your touch, my hands reach behind me to your thighs, grasping and stroking, getting a little satiation of my desire to touch you.

'Watch' you command, and my eyes drag open and look in the mirror as you rest your head on my shoulder, and together we watch as your fingers tantalise my skin, stroking all over, skimming over my erect nipples, the textures of my body, and the flush on my chest grows. Every nerve ending flashes lightning as you brush past it. It's exquisite torture, I'm already so turned on, and my soft moaning increases as your pressure does, you cup and squeeze my tits, not able to get all of one in a hand, teasing my nipples. And then one hand snakes down my stomach and firmly grasps between my legs. You cup me tightly, and I am trapped between your cock at my ass and your hand on my cunt. The heat you feel emanating from there is strong, your fingers can feel that damp spot you saw earlier. You hold me there tightly, and the rush it gives me is so intense I can barely breathe. Without even thinking about it the words fall from me 'please Sir'.

'Please Sir what?' - I pause, casting about for words for what I want - need - 'Please Sir, let me please you'. 'Good girl' you purr back at me, and in a flash your hands are gone and I hear you click your fingers, once, it echoes slightly in the room sounding strangely like the lock, and I pause. A flash of something you said comes to me from a day or two ago - 'I'll have you trained to drop to your knees when I click my fingers', and I turn and kneel before you neatly. Hands rested on my parted thighs, sitting back on my calves, tits exposed, face looking up at you. You stand before me and nudge my legs further open with yours, stripping off your jeans and boxer briefs, and my eyes finally feast on my new favourite cock.

You step towards me and my mouth opens greedily, tongue reaching out to swirl around your cock as my mouth takes in just the head, sucking gently. You groan and your hands are in my hair, taking out the clip so you can grasp my head, gently urging me on, but letting me explore. My mouth is hot and wet and suddenly I lower it around your cock until you feel the back of my throat pressing against the head, and I close it around you, sucking you deeply. My hands go to your ass, and nails lightly dig into you. My tongue plays along the underside as I pull back, and I set about learning what exactly makes you groan in the most primal way. I pick things up quickly, and you enjoy watching the sight and sounds of me licking and bobbing around your fat cock for a little while, before your patience wains, and your hands tighten in my hair, not pulling just holding me still. You stay there for a second, our eyes meeting, and then 'God I've wanted to to do this for so long, you take it for me slut' - you set about fucking my face. Making me gag on your cock, spit sloppily dragging up and down your cock on my lips. Holding your cock at the back of my throat until tears come to my eyes and then giving my breath back. Moving between calling me your dirty slut and a good girl. You use me for a while, finally pulling my mouth off your cock with a soft wet pop.

You step back and admire my swollen lips, running a thumb over them I suck it slightly as it passes, and you gently wipe a strand of saliva from my chin. 'Mmmm.. slut' you say warmly, approvingly. You see the shiver through my body at your words, and it pleases you as much as the skill I have shown worshipping your cock. 'Stand up gorgeous'. As I do I stay as close to you as possible, but as I reach standing, your hand goes immediately between my legs and it makes me stagger back a touch. You push me gently towards the counter top. Sweeping make up and hair products and cards to one side, your hand directs me to sit on it, releasing once there so I can. Now you stand between my legs again, and pull my hips forward. Your cock nudges at my clit through the thong and I murmur my pleasure and wiggle towards it. 'You are a cock hungry slut aren't you...' 'Maaybe' my voice and eyes laugh a little and something about it means you let me off the informality. It reminds you of the faux coyness I can't pull off in the conversations we've had, voices low, eyes darting to doors.

You kiss me with affection, and as you lean in your cock pushes against my thong and we both groan, me with need, you because you feel how wet that thong is against the head of your cock. But you've got other plans for me first. You want to take your time. Once again your tongue and lips trail down my neck and chest, but this time your hands hold my hips firmly, and you lower quickly. You're eager to taste me, and your tongue runs down my stomach. You play at the edge of the thong, tongue tickling below it, making me squirm slightly in your grip - it seems you start to mirror your actions around my nipple, hot breath first flooding over my lips and I am as still as I can be, breath heavy, arms bracing myself. You place my legs on your shoulders, and pull me forward just a touch. I'm desperate to feel your tongue on my clit, and I'm so focussed on the anticipation of that, it takes me a second to notice your teeth grabbing my thong, dragging it down. We lift me slightly to free it from below my ass and then you eave it round my ankles, so they are trapped behind you as you return to your position face at my cunt, shoulders under my legs. This time your hands are on my inner thighs, stroking firmly. You take a deep breath that turns into a primal growl like a wild animal catching its next meal on the wind, as you take in my scent and your eyes take in my cunt before you.

Just before you part my lips you glance up at me, and the look makes my clit throb all the more. And then finally, I am completely exposed to you. It feels like an eternity to me before you move, I am trembling with need. You see the milky proof of how turned on I am trickling from my tight hole. Clit swollen, pink and wanting. It occurs to you it will take barely anything to make me explode.

Your tongue, flat and wide, laps firmly over my clit once, twice, slow but steady, and expletives fall from my lips amongst moans, one hand flies to your head, not pushing, but encouraging. 'Not yet' I hear as you briefly pull away, and I drag myself from the brink, wet my lips, swallow and reply 'yes Sir'. 'You have to ask - no - beg. You must beg me to come slut. But not yet'. 'Yes Sir' - I will promise anything in this moment. But you, knowing exactly what you're doing, return to my clit and this time the thick strokes of your tongue give way to a firm long suck, and I lose control.

All the buzzing from days of being so turned on heightens and crescendos like the hiatus of frenzy before the end of the song. You hang on admirably as my hips buck the first time, before your arm pins me down. My head falls back and I cry out your name but can't even form the last letter, my voice trailing into a moan as from every point in my skin the sensation rushes inside, all straight for my clit, and turns into fireworks. As the main explosion begins to subside, you ease the suck and slide your tongue down to my hole, leaking pleasure, and slide your tongue in, tasting my pleasure, feeling flickers of muscles still around your tongue, before pulling away to watch it continue to shudder through my body. And as the shaking and gasps begin to ebb, the smile of your pleasure in mine turns to a slow shake of your head.

'But you didn't ask - you weren't meant to cum yet'. There is a hint of danger in your voice, just enough to let me know I'm in trouble, but with the undercurrent of satisfaction that you made me break my word. You stand and kiss me, your tongue laced with my cum, and I suck it greedily from you. And then your hand is round my neck and I didn't have a moment to catch my breath before I couldn't anymore. It occurs to me I could actually pull away, I'm not pinned. But I look straight in your eyes and lean in the tiniest amount. And you know I'll take whatever you want to give me as punishment. You nod, let go, and my breath returns.

'Now - how to punish my slut for her indiscretion...'

(to be continued once the punishment is chosen)