Maybe Next Time, Pet

Maybe next time, pet

The four words that haunt my dreams. That seem to seep into my everyday life. That make me want to rebel, scream, cry, and revolt against my Mistress. A torrent of emotions, of frustrations, and yet...here I was.

Every night for the past two weeks I have heard those words. Every night as I am used, toyed with, teased, and frustrated. Every night has ended the same.

Maybe next time, pet

From blowing her husband, to cleaning out her well fucked pussy, to being stuffed with my remote vibrator and teased in public. Depleted and denied, I had been left in a constant state of limbo. Always eager, always horny. Always ready to please my Mistress. Always dreading hear the same thing, wanting to hear anything, ANYTHING, else.

As I walked to her front door, nerves struck me as I stood on the step. Hidden beneath my shirt and jeans is my real self. Is Rory.

Seamed stockings covered my freshly shaved legs, being held up by my very form fitting garter belt. Perfectly put in place, else I get in trouble, the seam running straight up my back leg. The straps firm against my thigh, feeling them tighten when I moved. I had to be wary sitting down, else the outline of my garter be noticeable through my jeans.

A black skin-tight see through top, which did very little in the form of covering, but it did always make me squirm. I imagine that is why Mistress enjoys making me wear it so often. I constantly felt it hugging my chest, the soft lace tickling me as I moved. Thin straps slightly digging into my shoulders, as a constant reminder to what I was dressed as. A constant remind of what I was for my Mistress.

My cock, nice and snug in its tiny cage, was delicately wrapped in matching panties to my top. See through, lacey, and utterly frustrating, I felt them with every step. Slightly riding up my ass, it cupped my cheeks just enough that I was always aware of them. Mistress always enjoys running her fingers through the lacey edges, the very thought pushing a blush to my face.

Gathering courage for the evening, I opened the door and walked into my Mistress' lair. Left open for me, as always, I quickly stripped out of my street clothes. They weren't allowed in here. I piled them nicely at the front door, and slipped into the heels left out for me. 3 inches, which was manageable for me now, and solid black. As I slid them on, I took a few steps to make sure they were snug. Feeling secure, and still very nervous, I walked towards the living room. To my Mistress.

I found her on the couch, in the arms of her husband. Cuddling and watching Netflix, I smiled. I always enjoyed when I got to see this part of their relationship, and that they trusted me enough to share in it. I minced over to the other side of the room and quickly got into my position.

Mistress had a tattoo on her calf, a silly thing from when she was younger. I knelt down and kissed it, as was customary, and placed my nose snug against her leg, awaiting my commands. An idle hand found my hair, making a tiny moan escape my lips, feeling it lightly play and twirl.

I was mostly ignored for the first little while, the only recognition I was even there was my Mistress' hand, casually stroking and combing through my hair as if I was a pet. I kept still like a good girl, desperately wanting to stay on her good side, praying I didn't have to hear those same words that continued to play over and over in my mind.

Maybe next time, pet

When their show was over, and the cuddling had ceased, Mistress and her husband left, leaving me with my nose on the coffee table. She enjoyed when I was left in humiliating circumstances, and it had become our new norm. It always made me blush, burning as I was left against piece of furniture, or leash hung up on a coat rack. Which of course she loved, and here I was.

Hearing footsteps, I felt my collar being placed around my neck without a word. A click at the back informed me that I was stuck in it for the rest of the night, making me giggle with excitement. This of course earned me a smack on my butt, forcing a little moan out of me. As she placed my leash on and pulled me to her, I was already lost in her control. Wide eyed and eager, I focused on her and only her. I focused on being her good girl.

Mistress smiled at my state, softly stroking my cheek, and promptly led me to the bedroom. Stripped of my panties, I was placed on all fours. Their comfy bed under me, I sank my head into the mattress to stifle moans as Mistress started to rub lube on my very eager hole.

Round and round, she massaged me, driving me wild with need. With desire. When her fingers finally entered me I nearly screamed, somehow feeling every inch of them so vividly. When she was satisfied that I was nice and wet, her fingers were replaced with a plug. A plug that vibrated. A plug that vibrated remotely. A plug that ran my life.

Like a proud artisan, she spanked her handiwork, leaving me in suspense, ass in the air, mind not entirely working correctly. Not noticing her climb in front of me, a subtle hand on my chin showed me my next task. Nodding to my Mistress, I climbed forward and began to lick. And suck, and lick some more.

Mistress moaned, hand once again finding my hair, as I ran my tongue over her beautiful pussy. In the middle of a lick, I felt the plug behind me spring to life. Pressed right against my g-spot, I moaned, stifled as she shoved my head into her. Pressed tightly against her pussy, I tried my best to continue to please, moaning the entire time as I was toyed with.

Pulsating vibrations seem to tear through me, immediately bringing me to that ever present edge of orgasm. Moaning almost to tears, I prayed that I would be pushed over the edge, prayed that she would just push. Just a tiny push, and I would be gone. But the edge was where I was left, my cock on fire, my ass screaming for release. Mistress had other plans. Mistress always had other plans.

Enjoying in my torment, she quickly came all over my face. Holding me down with two hands, she rubbed her orgasm out on my tongue, breathing heavily as she held my head in both hands. Patting my cheek as she stared in my eyes, she called me a good girl. Being so close to cumming, hearing those words from her, I lost all sense of myself. I was fixated, obsessed. I hung onto every single word.

Mistress simply smiled, and left me on the bed. Left me to my torment. Vibrator still teasing, I bit the comforter in an effort to quiet myself. A failed effort I might add. She quickly returned, wasting no time in shoving a ball gag in my mouth. Free to moan through my gag, I did so. A lot. I could no longer speak, and forming words seemed foreign to me. I could only moan. And so moan I did.

Ignoring me for the most part, Mistress placed cuffs on my ankles and wrists, leading me to a chair in the center of the room. She finished with a belt around my waist, in case I had any ideas of escaping. Staring at her intently, I watched her kneeling in front of me. In the one hand, the remote currently controlling my torment. In the other, they key to my cage. Both sources of pleasure. Both sources of torment. And both things I could not take my eyes off of.

Smiling, Mistress unlocked me, enjoying slowly lifting the cage off, as my cock grew in response. Leaving the ring encircling my balls, she very carefully rubbed lube over my cock. After two weeks of denial, two weeks of torment, and the current predicament occurring in my ass, I was already happy to cum. She of course knew this, and took her time, ensuring that I never made it over that damn edge.

Wide eyed and pleading, I could only stare. I could only beg. I could only watch as she smiled. As she stroked. Slowly. Too slowly. Changing the plug to vibrate consistently and more softly, she began her focus on my cock.

Her hands moving in unison, she would slide one down alllllllll the way, at a pace even a sloth would question. Only to have it reach the bottom, and the other hand take over at the top. Constantly touched, constantly stroked, my mind was a broken mess, only functioning enough to watch. Mistress just smiled, keeping her pace, keeping me on edge. Keeping me in her control.

I didn't know how long I was in that chair, how long I was tormented, how long I was kept on edge. I didn't even remember my name, how I got there, what I was wearing. All of it was secondary, as I stared into my Mistress' eyes. I tried to beg, to say please, to plead, to scream, to cry, to demand, to do anything. But all I could do was stare. I was hers, I was my Mistress' good girl.

And when she saw that look, when she saw what she had done to me, when she saw that recognition that I belonged to her....she stopped. Slowly taking her hands away. She stopped. My cock harder than it had ever been before, as if finding a voice of its own through mine, made me scream. All the things I wish I could do earlier came rushing back, and I found my voice.

I begged.

I pleaded.

I cried.

I pulled against my restraints as I tried to say please through my gag.

Mistress just stared. That stare of control, of ownership. She waited for my little temper tantrum to be over, and stared. As I started to calm down, she smiled. As I mumbled I was sorry through my gag, she smiled. And as I submitted my head into her waist, defeated, she smiled. Hands once again running through my sweat covered hair.

Feeling I was myself again, she softly stroked my cheek, and removed my gag. Mistress shrunk my cock with some ice, getting it ready to be locked up. As the cage slid into place, she held the lock there for just a second, making sure I saw it go back in. With a subtle click I was once again under her control. Mistress simply smiled.

Freed from the chair, from my restraints, and from my plug, I was cleaned off by my Mistress. She dried me of my sweat, wiped the frustrated tears off my face, and carefully led me to my little crate. She had it put in her room, beside her bed, so she could always see her little pet.

As I was helped in, my body was still on fire, screaming at me for release. I backed in like a good girl, facing my Mistress as she closed the door. With a click similar to the one earlier, my fate was sealed once again. Smiling, Mistress simply blew me a kiss, and said the four words I never wanted to hear. The four words that would keep me up at night. The four words that I had grown to hate. And the four words that I knew would control me for the rest of my life.

Maybe next time, pet