More Humiliation Games

Some time ago, I discovered a story, entitled "Humiliation Games" by LadyJeanne, at Literotica.com. I found the story very arousing, as did my master when I shared it with him. He commanded me to write an extension of the story, and to post the results here. The original story can be found here.

Hope you enjoy the story!-F.K

*

It might have been thirty minutes later, it might have been an hour- it might even have been longer, before I heard the telltale snick of a keycard in the hotel room door. I waited eagerly for the sound of his footsteps, for my first glimpse of his shiny black shoes. I had to admit that he'd been ingenous, leaving me here uncomfortable and unsatisfied, wanting his cock so badly that I had passed my time focusing on his cock, on serving him so well that he would gift me with his cock inside my pussy. By the time he returned, pleasing him was about all I could think of. When I looked up from the tiny reflection of myself in his shoe, his smirking face told me he knew it.

"Lick, slut." Two small words only, but his words sent a shiver down my back- and into my cunt. I didn't pretend not to know what he meant, but bent down, wincing as the movement sent the weights on my tits to jiggling. I knew that I must ignore the pain, and focus on performing the task he had set for me. My pink tongue darted out, sliding along the top of his shoe and I immediately recoiled, unable to help myself. The strong, salty taste of what must be shoe polish seemed to cover my entire tongue, making my eyes water as I coughed. A shift in the air above me informed me that every moment I spent away from his shoe would cost me, though, so I bent back towards my task, ignoring the awful taste in my mouth as I eagerly cleaned his shoe. In my mind, his shoes became an extension of his cock, another way to please him, and that allowed me to ignore the taste in my mouth.

I was knocked out of my trance, literally, as he shoved me away with his foot. I stayed kneeling on the carpet, still wedged beneath the desk, starting to come back to myself. I glanced up at his face, but I could read nothing of his expression.

"All right. Out of there. Move it, and keep your knees as far apart as possible, and I want those big cow tits of yours swinging, too." And he walked away towards the arm chair, clearly planning to sit down and watch in comfort as I struggled to free myself from the tight space. I managed to do so, causing my breasts to swing and the weights to hurt even more, but I kept my gaze and my focus on him. I lumbered towards him, awkwardly moving with widespread knees and swaying tits. When I got within an inch of his knees, I stopped, balanced on all fours. He stared at me for a moment and then smiled.

"I wasn't sure you were going to make it, slut," he said. "But I have a treat for you, since you did." He grabbed the boxers he had used to make me dry off earlier and my nose wrinkled at the smell. His smile widened as he told me to "Open your mouth wide, bitch." I did so, quickly if not happily, and a wad of cloth was thrust into my mouth. I would have spit them out, but my mouth was too full to allow me to do so. I was effectively gagged. His smile turned cruel as his hands, those beautiful hands that I had fantasized about during meetings, reached out towards me. I stared at them until they filled my vision, and then yelped as his long fingers took ahold of my nipples in a fierce grip. He pulled and twisted on them harshly, and I realized that he was tightening the already too tight clamps. It hurt so badly...but I didn't pull away. I wanted this.

The pain was sharp and he'd been smart to gag me, because my screams would have sent the neighboring guests running for their phones. I wondered with the small part of my brain that was still functioning what the management would see if they burst in here. A screaming, sweating slut, aroused at the pain being inflicted on her already swollen nipples by a pair of sharp silver clamps. As the pain began to lessen, I became aware that Rusell had his cock out, that he was stroking his cock as he watched me writhe with his dirty shorts in my mouth and his cruel toys on my nipples. I became fascinated with the movement of his hand up and down his cock, so gentle and smooth, so different from the way it touched me-gentle, instead of harsh. My vision was filled with his cock, and my mouth, filled with his piss-soaked boxers as it was, was watering at the thought of being able to suck his cock. But I recalled his words to me earlier- I would have to prove to him that I was worthy of his cock before he allowed me to test my cocksucking skills upon his prick again. I resolved immediately to please him, to earn that right. When I glanced up, I saw that same rather taunting smile upon his face as if he saw into my heart, saw that my entire being had narrowed down to one tiny wish: pleasing him. But that had been his plan all along. He directed me with a motion to open my mouth, and I did so as well as I could. He extracted the now very wet boxers from my mouth and tossed them aside.

His cock was very hard now, and I felt sure that I would at least be allowed his cum- if not in my mouth, somewhere upon or in my body, surely, I thought. But I was wrong. He stood up suddenly and snapped his fingers at me as he walked into the bathroom, his hard, heavy cock bobbing with each step he took. I followed his cock. Once we were in, he resumed his stroking as I knelt before him on all fours, like a fuck animal waiting to be covered in cum. Suddenly, his face tightened with pleasure and I tensed myself, ready to accept his cum upon me wherever he chose to gift me with it. Instead, though, he directed the powerful jet of cum at the bathroom floor, tantalizingly near my head, but not actually in my mouth or on my face. I assumed then that I would be forced to lick his cum from the floor, and although the thought was less pleasurable than that of drinking it straight from the source, I was prepared to do my duty. I bent towards the puddle of cum but was stopped with a staccato command from him and a foot upon my head, which pressed my face near but not quite in the pool.

"Ever tasted cold cum, Nora? Ever licked up a man's cock juice from a dirty bathroom floor?" I was speechless, and unable to move anyways. I just lay there, a dull ache in my tits and my eyes fixed upon his sperm. After a few moments, the pressure upon my head was released, and I could feel the air shift past me as he backed slightly away. I took a deep breath to prepare myself, then moved to get back on all fours.

"No, Nora. Crawl like a snake on your belly towards my cum. You're just a lowly cum rag right now...not even a cow slut." I slithered the few inches that separated my mouth from my task, wincing as the movement caused the weights upon my tits to snag beneath my body painfully. My pink tongue edged out tentatively towards the puddle, just barely letting me get a taste of it. Quickly, Russell bent down and fisted my hair roughly, forcibly dragging my face into the cum. I set to the task with more confidence then, wanting to show him that I wanted to be good for him, that I would even lick up his cold jizz from a hotel bathroom floor if it pleased him. And apparently it did.

"Aw, what a dirty slut, licking up my juice. You like being a nasty little cum rag, huh, Nora? Don't you? Yes, you are a filthy whore, aren't you?" he crooned, his tone so sweet that if I were a dog, I would have thought them endearments. But I was not a dog-at least, not quite, though bitch in heat surely described my behavior over the last several hours-and I knew that his words were nasty, humiliating descriptions of what I was. My cunt got wet.

As I was almost finished, he released my hair so that it fell down around my face, sweaty strands sticking to my cum covered skin. Lightning fast, one hand reached down to cover my mouth, while the other plucked the clamps off my nipples with a quick, efficient twist. My agonized scream was muffled by his hand, and I was grateful for his forethought. After all, I didn't really want the hotel people to come bursting in here. Not really...

When I came back to myself, I realized that Russell was stroking down the length of my back, murmuring words that, this time, really were sweet. I had cleaned up his cum as well as I could, but now I began to really feel dirty. Not in the sense of being a dirty whore- which I was soon realizing I was- but in the sense of being covered in sweat and cum and piss. It took some effort not to glance longingly at the bathtub, but I wanted to be allowed to earn his cum, steaming hot straight from his cock. I was to be a lucky slut, however.

"God, what a filthy tramp you are right now. Get in the shower," he commanded, but his tone was more amused than disgusted. I tried to stand up in the tub but was quickly pressed back down. He turned the shower on cold, startling me. He chuckled softly as he watched me yelp and jump from the shock, my abused tits swaying with my movement. He then turned the water to a much more reasonable temperature, and grabbed my hair to drag me fully beneath the powerful stream of water, rinsing my body and hair fully. I liked the way I felt like a puppet, or an animal under his control. He had the right to move my body any way he wanted, to do anything to it. The hotel provided yummy smelling bath gel, and within moments, he had me soaped up. I wiggled beneath his touch, playfully, sensing that he might enjoy that in his current mood. I was near purring as his hands slid all over my lathered back, neck, and ass....his strong hands washing my silky legs and feet as I knelt before him like a patient fucktoy.

"Roll over, slut," he told me roughly. I complied, turning so that my smooth tummy and large tits were exposed to his touch and gaze. He gently stroked my pussy, my mound, my stomach, my tits...teasing my sore nipples until they were hard again, pointing at him. After he had washed the soap from my body, he bent down and lightly sucked upon the hard buds. I moaned, aroused and pleased at the tenderness combined with dominance- he had complete confidence that he was allowed to do whatever he pleased with my body. I felt wonderfully clean, and aroused, by the time he was finished bathing me. I was then told to get out and kneel on a towel, wet and shivering slightly, though the bathroom was quickly becoming steamy, as he bathed himself with quick economical movements. I watched as his hands rubbed all over himself, and I wished desperately to be allowed to clean him someday. To feel his skin, slick with water, beneath my hands...mmm.

When he had shut the shower off, and stepped out, he did allow me to dry him. I enjoyed that immensely, rubbing my large tits against his body as I dried his limbs, nuzzling his neck as I dried his chest...showing him just how much I appreciated the honor of being allowed to touch him. When every bit of water was off of his body, I was instructed to dry myself fast and meet him at the bed. I tensed, eager for the next part of this sexual exploration, and rubbed the terry cloth over my skin quickly in order to get out there fast. I am sure I looked rather silly, hurrying out of the bathroom on my hands and knees, my breasts jiggling wildly in my haste. I was in for a surprise when I got out there, however.

Russell was naked, in bed, and smiling. Really smiling, that is, not just one of his taunting smirks. He patted the bed and told me to leap up, laughing at me as I did so, landing with an ungainly sprawl next to him.

"I'm a bit tired, whore, and I've decided that you deserve a treat. You may suckle my cock- gently- as I nap." He had pulled a blanket loose so that he was covered, and I would not be suffocated as I bent eagerly, my warm wet mouth engulfing his cock. I sighed in pleasure at the weight and taste of it in my mouth. I hummed happily and set to suckling as Russell drifted off to sleep. I couldn't wait for what he might dream of next.