tagBDSMFinn Ch. 11: Forte

Finn Ch. 11: Forte


It was Monday morning and when the collar dropped from his neck she tried not to look at his face. She didn't want to see the fall in the curve of his lips or his hand reaching for where it had been, both reminders of how cruel it would be for her to delay him choosing a twenty-four/seven collar.

During breakfast, she tried not to notice him only eat two bites before dumping the rest in the trash. This was why they collared slaves. Every other reason came in second to the way she knew he was feeling right now. And she imagined it only worsened the minute he walked out the front door.

"I'll be home by five thirty," she told him, undecided whether having an actual time to count down to would help or make it worse for him.

"Yes, Mistress," he answered, sitting back down on the floor. His head rested in her lap and his arms wrapped around her legs while she finished eating. It was a position she found he put himself in often now, and while she had never allowed any other slave or submissive to get into the habit of touching her without permission, he was different. She ran her hand through his hair, letting him enjoy his last minutes in the safe space he was in before he would be forced to leave it.

When she stood up he grabbed her plate and took it to the sink. He rinsed it off quietly with his shoulders hunched forward then put it in the dishwasher before heading to the door. He kept his eyes down when he walked by her, but she could still see the heaviness in his movement.

"Come," she said, stopping him before he stepped outside. She couldn't choose his collar for him, but she also couldn't continue to watch him fall apart every time he left her house.

He followed her back to his room and started to get to his knees.

"Stand," she directed, then undid his belt and pushed his jeans to the floor. "Bend over the bed."

He shuffled with his pants around his ankles to the edge of the bed, his reluctance not enough to stop his erection from pressing into the side of the mattress.

She pulled open the second drawer on the dresser and peered inside. Dommes often used the excuse it was for a slave's own benefit when they were going to do something which would cause the slave discomfort, especially discomfort for an extended period of time. So that was what she told herself. It was for his own good.

She pushed her lubed finger into him, the sound of his nervous breath pulsing through her. "Good boy," she praised, rubbing his back with her free hand while she inserted a second finger.

His muscles relaxed and his breath become more eager. She pulled out her fingers and began pushing the blue plug in, pausing to stroke him when his muscles tightened against the penetration. He flinched when the largest part disappeared inside him then squirmed when she twisted the base to make sure it was seated securely.

"You can go now," she said, tossing the bottle of lube back in the dresser and shutting the drawer.

He stood up then carefully bent down to pull up his pants. "Mistress?"


"I don't understand why I'm being punished."

When she looked at him his eyes were sullen and on the floor, his hands clenched in front of him. "You're not being punished," she informed him, pulling her shoulders back. "You're here for my pleasure and my amusement, and this both pleases and amuses me."


He paced the hallway a few times, trying to adjust enough to walk normally before heading out the door. He couldn't decide at the moment which was more uncomfortable, her will or the erection he had tucked into his waistband. The seat of his truck was well worn and soft, but he doubted the seat of his saddle would be as forgiving.

When he reached his parents' house he carefully hooked up his trailer, checking and re-checking he had properly hooked up all the chains and locked the hitch onto the ball. Hooking up a trailer was second nature, but her will was the ultimate distraction. By the time he had his horse saddled and loaded his erection was calming down but the full feeling inside of him was still at the forefront of his mind.

He turned off the main road then bounced along the dirt road all the way to the ranch he needed to check. His hands started to ache from gripping the steering wheel, which he hadn't even noticed he was doing. It wasn't painful, and he couldn't even claim it was truly uncomfortable. Though he hated to admit it to himself, he found pleasure in the way it felt. The fullness, the stretch, the movement, and most importantly, the reminder. But it was incredibly distracting. He was so distracted he didn't see the cow grazing on the pieces of grass that had broken through the old road until he almost hit it.

"Fuck!" he shouted, swerving to avoid it. The orange ear tag taunted him when he glanced back through his side mirror.

"Fuck." He shoved the gear shift into park and got out, taking a few careful steps before adjusting into his normal gait. The cow watched him approaching before turning to jog towards the main road.

"Fuck." He threw open the back of his trailer and lifted his leg to step in, then paused for a minute before stepping the rest of the way in. He unloaded his horse and after a few minutes of pacing and building himself up he realized there was nothing he could do to make the situation easier.

"One...two...three..." he counted, grimacing in anticipation. He hopped up, stuck his foot in the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn and pulled himself on.

He wheeled his horse around, kicked into a lope then pulled his rope loose from the saddle and shook out a loop. He doubted he needed it, but at least messing with his rope offered some distraction.

As soon as the cow was in view he slowed down, trying not to spook it farther down the road. If he could get around it he could push it back to where it needed to be and walk for the rest of the day. But as usual, nothing with cattle ever went exactly as planned. The cow turned her head the opposite direction and took off as soon as he tried to get around her.

"Fuck!" He lifted his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead then pushed it back down. His horse broke into a lope again and this time when the cow took off he leaned forward and kicked, determined to get around her before she made it to the highway. He arched out as wide as the road would allow then looped around in front of her, blocking her path.

She turned back in the correct direction and he breathed a sigh of relief. But by the time they were headed back by his rig, three more cows were standing around it searching for hay.

"What the fuck!" he groaned, leaning his head back and rubbing his hands over his face.

They fell in line with the original escapee and he herded them back towards the gate, which he found lying on the ground along with a significant amount of the fence. Tire tracks started from the road and went through the field before making a loop back out to the road again.

"Fuck." He could load his horse up, go home and pretend he didn't know the fence was down. But he knew the current object filling him was nothing compared to the hellfire she would subject him to if she found out. So he rode back to his truck to make sure he had what he needed then drove to where the demolished fence lay waiting for him.

"Fuck," he sighed when he heard the sound of a diesel engine getting closer. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He wanted to finish the fence and go home. Maybe once he got there she would remove her will, and maybe she would even praise him for being a good boy and wearing it all day.

Ryan leaned out the window of his blue Ford pick-up, his eyes running over the downed fence. "Need some help?"

"I got it. Thanks," he replied, hoping Ryan would take the opportunity to bolt from a job nobody really liked to do.

"Come on now, I'm not gonna make you rebuild all this fence on your own," Ryan said, pulling over and turning off the engine.

"It's fine, I got it. Seriously."

"Don't be stupid." Ryan grabbed ahold of one of the t-posts, setting it back upright and trying to shove it back into the ground. "We can have this shit back up in no time."

There was no point in arguing, and at least with help he would get home sooner. "Okay. Thanks."

"So, what's up?" Ryan asked before starting to pound the post back into the ground.

"Nothing much," he replied, assuming Ryan wouldn't be very understanding about his current discomfort.

"You talked to Trevor at all?"


"You should give him a call," Ryan prompted casually.

"Why?" He knew where this conversation was headed and appreciated the instant comfort every movement he made brought him.

"He's not very happy with you."

"Why?" He reached down to grab some of the wire and clenched against the shifting inside him.

"Because you're ignoring everyone."

"What are you talking about?" he lied.

"You know, we've been your friends a lot longer than that girl's been lyin' on her back for you."

He tensed at the disrespectful statement. "Don't say shit like that."

"Like what?" Ryan asked, holding up his hands. "I'm just sayin' it's pretty shitty of you to blow off all your friends because you have a girlfriend now."

"I haven't blown off anybody." He just had other places he would rather be, like at the feet of his mistress. When a twinge of homesickness shot through his stomach her will reminded him home wasn't so far away.

"We're going to Tiny's Friday. You two should come. Have a drink."

"I'll ask if she wants to go," he replied, though he knew she could think of a much better way to spend a Friday night. "Is Conner still dating Andrea?"

"I dunno. She gave him pussy for his birthday, but that don't mean nothin'."


The sound of his truck caught her ear and she listened until it was right outside the walls of her house. When he walked in the door he didn't look any worse off than when he had left that morning, and when she called him to her there weren't any abnormalities in his gait.

"Did you get the fence rebuilt?" she asked when he knelt on the floor at her feet.

"Yes, Mistress. Ryan helped me," he said, running his mouth around her ankle.

"That was very nice of him." All day long at work the thought of him wearing her will throughout his day had kept her soaking through her underwear. When she arrived home she had changed into a short red dress and black lace underwear which consisted more of strings than actual fabric. But now as he knelt down in front of her, his submission to her absolute as his lips pressed into the skin on the tops of her feet and her will still remained seated inside of him, the moisture began to flow again, wetting through the black lace to the chair she was sitting on.

"It would've taken a lot longer if he hadn't helped," he said, sitting back on his heels. "He asked if we wanted to go out with everyone Friday night to Tiny's. I told him I would ask you."

She reached down and ran her hand through his hair. "I'm going to dinner with Lexa on Friday, but you can go." The lie tasted awful on her tongue, but the truth would have tasted much worse.

"I'll stay here and wait for you, Mistress." His eyes moved to his hands rolling and unrolling the hem of his shirt.

"Why don't you want to go out with your friends?"

"I feel more comfortable here, Mistress."

"You've been to that bar more times than I'm interested in knowing about. How can you say you feel uncomfortable there?"

"Because all my friends want to do is drill me about shit they don't understand and never will," he replied, an edge in his tone she had heard once before.

"Why do you allow them to question you?"

"It isn't that I allow them to. They just do."

"Who's will are you wearing?" she asked, a pulse shooting through her when his cheeks reddened at the question.

"Yours, Mistress," he responded, not looking up from the ground.

She sat back in her seat, tapping her fingers on the wooden armrests. "Do I need to use a bigger one to remind you who you belong to?"

"No, please, Mistress," he shook his head and began to fidget, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

More arousal soaked onto the chair, and she thought about standing up and allowing him to taste it. First off the wood, then from the source. But now she knew what she wanted, and that would not be enough to sate her need. At least not tonight. "Then stop allowing your friends to control you."

"I would rather stay home, Mistress."

"The worst thing you can do as a slave is isolate yourself from the vanilla world and it's something I'll never allow you to do. You need to go out there to continue to appreciate what you have here."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Now get up and bend over the table." She imagined he was in need of a break. A break which, unfortunately for him, would only be until tomorrow morning.

He bent at the waist over where she sat and pressed his stomach and cheek against the wood. She pulled down his pants and traced her fingertips over the faded red stripes on his thighs. When he started to harden she ran her hand down him, listening to the sound of his eager breath.

"Good boy." She slowly pulled the plug out, taking the time to let it stretch him. "Go take a shower then you can come eat."

"Yes, Mistress," he replied, pulling up his pants just enough to shuffle his way to the bathroom.

After they were done eating he followed her to his bedroom. She buckled the collar around his neck, stripped down to her black lace underwear, and lay on the bed.

"Do you know what I want, Finn?" she asked, looking down to where he knelt.

"No, Mistress," he replied, trying to keep his eyes off her bare breasts.

"Come here, Finn," she beckoned playfully.

He got up from the floor and climbed onto the bed, his length already tense with anticipation. He positioned himself on his knees between her spread legs and went to run his hand down her stomach.

"Did I give you permission to touch me?" she asked.

"No, Mistress," he said, his hand stopping less than an inch from her flesh.

She ran her fingers underneath the black lace at her waist. "Do you want to take them off?"

"Yes, Mistress," he replied, eagerly reaching up to grab the delicate material.

"No," she said, and he froze. "With your mouth."

He bent over her, grasping one of the strings between his teeth. His lips tickled on her thigh as he pulled them down until he could go no farther. He moved back up and grasped the other side between his teeth, running his mouth down her leg until finally pulling them off and letting them fall by the side of the bed.

"Do you know what I want?" she asked again, bending her knees up and spreading her legs.

"No, Mistress," he replied, his eyes hovering over what she presented to him. By the way he ran his tongue over his bottom lip she knew what he was hoping she would say. It was an activity she would like, but not tonight. Tonight she wanted control.

"I want to feel your weight on top of me," she told him, reaching up to grab the ring on his collar and pull him down onto her. "I want to feel your skin on my skin." She ran her hands through his hair, licking the outside of his lips. "Would you like that?"

"Yes, Mistress," he replied, pressing his lips to hers.

She pulled her knees forward, kicking her legs over his shoulders. "No," she scolded when she felt him pushing at her entrance.

"Please, Mistress?" he asked softly, pushing himself against her again.

"No." She reached down and grabbed him in her hand, rubbing his tip over herself to soak it with her need before moving it to where she normally preferred his tongue.

"Please, Mistress..." His breath became rougher the harder she rubbed him against herself.

"No," she whispered in his ear, releasing her hold to run her hands up through his hair again. "Keep rubbing me." She ran her tongue down his neck then bit into the skin at his shoulder.

His length ran up and down the folds between her legs, sliding easily through the arousal that soaked her.

"Good boy," she moaned, biting at his ear. "Don't stop."

"Please let me fuck you, Mistress," he begged, pushing down harder.

"No," she replied, arching her body to rub her nipples against his chest.

"Please, Mistress..." he continued, biting into his lower lip.

She shook her head and reached back between his legs, grinding his erection against herself.

"Please? Just for a minute! Please, Mistress?"

"Fine. You can fuck me for exactly sixty seconds."

He slid into her, groaning in appreciation. She started counting the seconds in her head between her own moans. He thrust harder, sending shockwaves up her spine. She groaned into his ear, her nails clawing down his back.

"Enough," she gasped once she had counted sixty seconds.

He clenched his jaw but stopped his stroke, his body jerking as he pulled out.

"Good boy," she praised. She rolled over and got to her knees, pushing back against him.

He sat back, grabbing at her hips.

"No. Put your hands behind your back and keep them there."

He grunted when she rocked back against him, sliding down him without allowing him inside. She grabbed him in her hand, holding his rigid length between her legs so she could rub against it.

"Please, Mistress..." he begged from behind her.

"No." She rocked back harder, sliding down the top of him again and again.

"Please! Please, Mistress!" His voice was breaking in desperation, making her need burn through her.

She pushed down, groaning when his tip brushed over her most sensitive areas. His pleas continued behind her, pushing her over the edge.


Wednesday morning the feel of Finn's tongue worshipping at her back altar woke her from a sound sleep. She groaned and pushed back into his mouth, the soothing warmth allowing her to stay in a blissful state of being only partially awake. She heard the sound of his chain and imagined he was pulling against it, his hands instinctively trying to touch her.

She rolled onto her back and when his mouth followed her unspoken orders she shivered. "Good boy," she praised, then shoved the covers to the side so she could watch him.

His tongue ran over her, the tingles it sent firing through her nerves waking her body. But she needed more.

She reached down and grasped his hair. "Up," she said, pulling his head back and pushing herself into a seated position.

He sat back on his heals, sucking in his breath when she let him slide into her as she lowered herself down onto his lap. She pressed her lips to his and wrapped her legs around his back. Her scent still covered his face, but his taste was the same as it always was. She unsnapped the chain and his hands slid underneath her thighs, lifting her up and bringing her back down. She relaxed in his arms, moaning into his mouth.

"Harder," she whispered, kicking her legs over his arms.

His grip tightened, his mouth growing hungrier as it pressed into hers. He lifted her body as if it was nothing and slammed her back down on his own. She ran her hands down his arms, wanting to feel the strength that was hers to control. Control she wasn't ready to hand over to another domme.

The chain still hung from his collar, entangling in their crashing bodies. She grabbed it in her hand and wrapped it around her wrist then pulled his mouth back onto her own. Her body began to tense, preparing for its exquisite release. His control never faltered, his strength never weakening as he continued to bring her down harder and harder.

His eyes caught hers and she could see him watching, waiting to witness the intensity of the pleasure he was bringing her. She held his gaze as long as she could until the orgasm screamed through her, forcing her eyes closed as it took control. Every inch of him still penetrating through her kept her body ignited until it finally collapsed forward into his.

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bySyptemberSmyth© 10 comments/ 11412 views/ 6 favorites

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