Second Test

Charlie reset the shower head back to its original flow, and ran it over M's body, rinsing him of the last bits of lather. She placed it back on its attachment, and rinsed herself just as quickly, turning in the shower. She shut the water off and opened the shower curtain, reaching for a towel which she handed to M. M patted her dry, from head to toe, and Charlie stepped out of the shower, wrapping another towel around her wet hair while M dried himself.

M followed Charlie out of the bathroom and was about to turn towards her kitchen to make breakfast, but she stopped him with a hand on his upper arm. "You're not done yet," she said, slipping her fingers around his arm and leading him to her bedroom. Charlie led him around her bed to her vanity, and she sat on the small cushioned seat. She pointed to the floor in front of her, with a single word: "kneel".

M felt his genitals surge again with heat and blood, anticipating Charlie's order to slide his face between her thighs and worship. He wanted it more than anything after the long, teasing shower, and her dominating presence stripping away the multiple layers of self-control and self-consciousness he never realized he even had. He could still faintly smell her arousal, and he salivated and unconsciously licked his lips in anticipation. M dropped to his knees, legs slightly spread as his caged genitals jutted out at that awkward angle, and looked up to her, eyes begging for the order to lick.

Charlie must have noticed his eagerness to please -- not that it must have been difficult for her -- and smiled, spreading her legs slightly. M could see the slightly puffy cleft of her labia, as her aroused scent filled his nostrils, kneeling so closely in front of her. She leaned forward, one arm across her lap, pushing her still-damp breasts together as she reached forward with her other hand to stroke his jawline.

"Mmm...you want it, don't you," Charlie said, her voice a husky purr. She pushed M's chin upwards, breaking his sight of her pussy and locking eyes with him. Her gaze was intent, intense, and completely dominant, her eyes boring deep into his psyche and laying his desires bare.

"Yes..." M replied, feeling his submissiveness overtake him completely, "...please". Charlie continued holding his chin up, but shifted herself in the seat, spreading her legs further apart. M could see in his peripheral vision, the fingertips of her other hand tracing up her inner thigh, as if she was daring him to break eye contact and look down. M was sorely tempted, but her gaze held him in position, their eye contact unbreakable despite his overwhelming desire to see her spread thighs and pussy in front of him.

Charlie gasped, her eyes widening slightly, her exhale a gentle moan. M was so engrossed in the pleasure written on her face, he was barely aware of the quiet wet sounds from between her thighs. The realization she was fingering herself in front of him, maintaining eye contact, flooded his mind and body with raw arousal, and M found himself moaning again, taken vicariously by Charlie's self-pleasure. She held his chin with a quivering hand, which she slid down to his shoulder, gripping it, digging her nails into his flesh.

M could do nothing but kneel and continue to stare into her eyes, mesmerized by her shifting expressions of sexual pleasure. He became aware he had clasped his hands behind his back, gripping his own wrists to keep from reaching out to Charlie until told. He felt his cock throb and pulse, and the now-familiar sensation of pre-cum oozing from its tip, and his breathing and moaning matched Charlie's as the wet sounds beneath his vision became louder and quicker.

Charlie blinked and squinted, her eyebrows moving up and down, her lips alternating between pursed, and open but quivering the entire time. He felt Charlie's hot breath on his face with each moan and throaty exhalation, but maintained the eye contact, feeling each pleasurable fluctuation on her face as if it was his own genitals being expertly pleasured. Charlie's grip on his shoulder pulsed and strengthened, and the feeling of pain as her nails dug into his skin only accentuated the pleasure he felt through her.

She sucked in a quick gasp of air, shutting her eyes tight as her jaw locked open and her eyebrows furrowed. M could see her hips jerk and her thighs shake, as she gripped his shoulder with all her strength. After a moment of stillness, Charlie unleashed her pent-up arousal with a loud and deep, orgasmic, moan that continued through her spasms. M felt waves of vicarious pleasure flow through his body; like orgasm but different, a sense of euphoric elation in which he could only bask as he watched Charlie cum.

As Charlie came down from her orgasm, breathing deeply and more steadily, she leaned forward and rested her forehead against M's. She stroked his neck and shoulder, continuing to look deeply into his eyes. M badly wanted to kiss her -- or did he want her to kiss him? but remained frozen in place, surrendering completely to her whim and desire. M felt slick fingertips on his lips, the taste of Charlie's pussy on them, and began to lick her juices from them without prompt.

Charlie slid her fingers in M's mouth, and he sucked them clean of her musky and heady lubrication. She maintained eye contact, staring at him with still-electric pleasure and bliss in her face. Her mouth hung slightly ajar, and their breaths mingled while M continued sucking her fingers. She removed her fingers from M's mouth, leaning forward to give him a closed-mouth kiss on the lips.

M returned the kiss, the arousal and denial he felt making him long for more. But here, kneeling before Charlie in the face of her overt displays of dominance, he felt neither the urge or desire to act on his feelings. At least for the moment, he was hers to do with as she pleased, an instrument for her gratification; if it pleased her to leave him horny and wanting more, that's how he would happily be. He embraced his own desire, allowing the current of lust and vicarious pleasure to carry him to even deeper levels of submission.

Charlie sat up, breaking their liplock and eye contact. She smiled, stroking his jawline in her now-familiar way. She turned to the vanity, reaching for a jar of moisturizing cream. As she unscrewed the jar, she looked forward and said, "I want an omelette. Spinach, feta, diced peppers. Two slices of whole wheat toast with hazelnut spread. And a glass of orange juice."

"Okay," M said, shifting his weight to stand. Charlie gave him a sidelong glance, and stopped unscrewing the jar. "No," she retorted. "Do it right".

M looked down briefly, already knowing what she meant. He was hesitant to say it, as it felt like a major step forward he wasn't fully prepared to accept. Or -- was he? M already felt it, the words in his chest, forming at the tip of his tongue; was he hesitant because he would be admitting it to himself? that he would no longer be able to delude himself it was anything but the case?

Charlie definitely already knew, otherwise she wouldn't be forcing the issue. M felt the gratifying, cathartic feeling she simply knew better than him, and his role was to trust her and let no barrier of his own creation stand between them. He let go of himself as he had before in the shower, and let the words flow from his lips with genuine sincerity, trust, and growing affection:

"Yes, Mistress".

M saw a concealed, but content, smile at the corner of Charlie's mouth. She continued looking forward, taking a dollop of moisturizing cream onto her fingers, and started rubbing it into her skin starting with her bare shoulders. She parted her lips, and with a cool and controlled voice, "good boy".