Submission to the Sundress

"Yes, ma'am, I would do that if you asked," he moaned.

"You are such a good boy," she said as he returned to his task and gently licked and kissed each Betty and the well-toned calf muscles under them.

As he obediently kissed and licked his way up her calves, he was already deep in a submissive head-space and focused on the contact of his lips and tongue with her skin. He barely noticed that his own cock, exposed and ignored, cycled slowly through stages of full erection and semi-hardness as obvious and subliminal cues caused his own levels of arousal to surge and ebb like ocean waves.

"One minute," she said to make him pause.

Kneeling up, he watched as she slowly changed position, rolling over to lay on her back with her legs again spread to either side of him. Her dress was covering her legs, and then she pulled the hem upward, exposing her thighs almost to where they joined, the layers of fabric still hiding her pussy from his view.

She reached down and caressed her inner thighs with both hands, the light glancing off the glossy finish of her nail polish as she watched him watch her hands. She reached down to the inside of each knee and with the tip of her index finger traced the line of her inner thighs up to where the fabric of her dress began.

"Would you like to kiss my thighs?" she asked.

"Yes, please," his voice was almost a moan of lustful desire.

"If I tell you that it may be all you will be allowed to do, will you give the same answer?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied softly, his desire to please her stronger than any future possibility of disappointment.

"You may begin."

He lowered his chest to the mattress and slid an arm under each of her legs at the knee. In this position, he could kiss and lick at each of her inner thighs by turning his head from side to side. So focused on his task, he failed to notice how she carefully rearranged her dress to slide one hand under the fabric to tease her clit while letting the folds of cloth continue to mask his view of her pussy.

Slowly, he inched his way forward, bathing her inner thighs with his tongue and softly sucking at the sensitive flesh but without the intensity of suction that might leave marks. He felt her free hand caress his head as she murmured her approval.

"Such a good boy."

He was licking her sensitive skin with his head touching the folds of cloth of her dress when he finally realized that her hand was under the dress and slowly stroking her pussy. He moaned softly as he spread his lips for a slow kiss of her inner thigh as he knew how close he was to her pussy with it still being denied to his sight or touch.

"Back now, let me sit up," she instructed.

Swinging her legs to one side she sat up on the side of the bed. She kept her dress pulled up to expose her thighs as she directed him to stand in front of her a few feet from the bed. More obviously now, she toyed with her pussy under the dress while keeping it hidden from his view.

"Stroke your cock for me," she said, "slowly, no cumming without permission."

Obediently, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock. He admired her legs, remembering every spot he had placed his lips and tongue from her toes to her upper thighs so close to her pussy. He could see now how her large breasts, free of the constraints of the lacy bra, moved easily under the dress, teasing with suggestions of their glory but no more to feed his imagination. He saw her face, reacting to the steady manipulations of her fingers on her clit, yet still as perfectly made up as when she arrived.

He could only manage a few strokes at a time, having to pause, even let go of his shaft, to control himself and avoid cumming without permission.

"It's so hot," she said huskily, "watching you struggle to please me and strain to avoid cumming."

"Tell me," she added, "what would your Mistress do if you came without permission."

He paused to collect himself before answering.

"If it was early in a session, she would end it and send me home. She feels that being denied the play I desire is punishment enough. If it is later in a session, she would have me lick it up, then spank me for my disobedience. She also reminds me that I am not to make myself cum when I am alone, only when I am with one of my friends with benefits or when she takes my orgasm."

"Hmm," she pondered his words, "stand still and put your hands behind you."

He followed her instruction, his cock throbbing and bouncing in front of him with each muscular twitch.

Long moments passed as she considered her next moves. Slowly, she continued to stroke her pussy and clit as he stood in front of her erect, frustrated, and slowly dripping precum.

"Since I am neither your Mistress," she said, "nor one of your friends with benefits, would you be breaking your Mistress' rules if you came for me? More importantly, would she think you were breaking her rule?"

"I don't know, ma'am," he said carefully, "it would depend on her mood and whether she was pleased that it happened under direct supervision."

"Well," she laughed, "that is not a very definitive answer, is it."

"Uh... no, ma'am," he replied with hesitation, the thought of getting to cum for this lovely lady slipping away.

"Should we call her?"

"Uh... pardon me, ma'am," he quickly as he tried to process her suggestion.

"Your Mistress," she explained, "should we call her and ask if you are allowed to cum under my supervision?"

He moaned with the frustration of not being able to guess how that might turn out. His Mistress might be perturbed by the request and simply refuse to allow it. Or she might allow it but still hold him responsible for disobedience. Either option might play into her games for various punishments. Alternatively, she might be enthusiastic about the option to control his permission to cum from afar. That option she might even consider to extend the same limits to his friends with benefits, asking them to request her permission each time when they were ready to let him cum after satisfying themselves with his tongue and cock. The one thing he knew for certain, was that thinking about each possibility contributed to maintaining the strength of his erection as she watched.

"Well," she laughed, "it appears that your cock has made the decision for you. Please get your phone. Dial the number and hand me the phone. What is her first name?"

As requested, he fetched his phone from where it was charging, identified his Mistress in his contact list, and initiated the call before handing her the phone.

"Back to your position, hands behind your back," she instructed before the call was picked up, pointing at the floor in front of her.

"Hello, you don't know me but we have a mutual acquaintance.... Yes, I asked him to call you for me.... It seems we've been playing a little, and now he's admitted that he's not allowed to cum without your permission.... Well, until now it's been a thorough foot and legs worship session with his delightful lips and tongue. I must say he's been quite well trained.... Oh, you are very welcome.... Yes, he's told me about some of your games, and he's shown me that he can be a very well-behaved naked slut too.... Well, I suppose you could say he's earned a reward.... I agree, it does help them maintain their self-discipline.... Oh, I think we can manage that, and not spill a drop either.... Thank you, my dear, I would love to chat again, I will get your details from your boy before we part."

She ended the call with a smirk on her face and slid the phone onto the nearby bedside table.

They looked at one another in silence for a long moment. Her hand slipped back under the folds of her skirt and she wasn't shy about him knowing she was stroking herself. He stood still, waiting for her to speak. The involvement of his dominant friend was enough to keep his cock hard and throbbing as he tried to imagine the unheard half of the conversation.

Finally, she spoke.

"Your Mistress says that you may cum, as long as it is under supervision."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't thank me yet," she said with a smile, "it hasn't happened yet. Now, continue stroking for me."

He grasped his hard cock as he met her gaze. He tried hard to distract himself to prolong the number of strokes he achieved before having to stop stroking or let go altogether to avoid cumming. But the mental gymnastics were futile as he stood naked before her, masturbating while knowing she was fingering herself under her dress.

She basked in his struggle, watching him try again and again to maintain a pace of stroking but each time abandoning it to avoid a climax. She relished each moan that escaped his lips and every twitch of his body as he fought to stay upright and erect while undermining his own ability to do so with the constant edging torment.

"Pick up my wine glass, behind you," she instructed.

He did so and returned to his position.

"When I let you cum," she explained, "you will catch every drop of your sperm in that glass. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," he moaned.

"Continue," she said, "and don't stop until you've milked every drop into that glass."

She watched as he returned to stroking his hard cock, knowing he was already so close. He held the wine glass in his free hand as he tried to work out the best way to push his cock downwards and ensure the spurting head was inside the bowl of the wine glass.

"Please...," he moaned.

"Cum for me, boy, cum now," she ordered, her voice as stern as she had let it be during her entire time with him.

With a low deep moan, his knees shaking, he pushed his cock downwards and slid the tip into the open top of the wine glass. Spurt after spurt of hot cum burst into the wineglass and painted the inside of the bowl. As his orgasm ended, he carefully milked any remaining droplet of cum from his cock into the glass. Catching his breath he straightened up and looked at her.

She was smiling and holding up his phone, taking photo after photo of him cumming into the wine glass and then standing there with it.

"What do you think your Mistress' instructions for you were if you were allowed to cum?" she asked.

"To clean up my mess and consume my cum, ma'am," he replied softly.

"Well...?"

Obediently, he raised the glass to his lips, and in one smooth motion tilted it back to let the contents slide into his open mouth. The little bit of wine that the glass had held provided a coating for the glass that ensured very little cum remained, and also tinged the flavor with a touch of the wine's taste.

He lowered the glass and faced her again as she took a final photo of him holding the empty glass.

"Those," she said as she set down the phone again, "are for your Mistress. She will want to see some tonight and the rest when you next see her. Perhaps she may even ask you to send me a few souvenir shots."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

His mind continuously tried to analyze his own reaction to being photographed performing such a submissively intimate act. He knew that with the photos only on his own phone, he could simply delete them. But the idea of his Mistress expecting to see them served to reinforce the excitement he had already felt over her involvement. To share them with his current guest was another thing, but one which he had to admit excited him as well.

She reached out and took the wineglass from his hand.

"You should wash your hands before we sit down again," she suggested.

He blushed again, the intimacy of her direction to wash himself reinforced in his mind that she was still firmly in control of their visit.

Returning to stand before her, he was unsure if he should present his hands for her inspection, or sit without her permission.

He watched, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed she had poured herself a fresh glass of wine, in the unwashed glass. She looked at him over the rim of the glass as she raised it to her nose and inhaled the aroma of the wine, which he knew must be accompanied by the scent of his cum.

"Mmm," she murmured, "the richness of Shiraz and the accompaniment of an obedient boy's musk. One of my favorite combinations."

She took a slow slip and then spoke again.

"Oh, do sit down, you've hardly touched your whisky."

He retook his seat at the other end of the sofa. They chatted as she finished the glass of wine she held and then poured the last of the bottle into her glass.

Still basking comfortably in post-orgasmic warmth and her presence, he answered her questions freely. She revealed little about herself and made no overly specific queries about his lovers past or present. But slowly, with ever more penetrating questions, she led him to open up fully about his own sexuality, his desires, kinks and fetishes. How they had begun and how they had developed. What things he so eagerly sought at the hands of his Mistress, and what things he thought he wanted to explore beyond the bounds of their time together. He was an open book, one she had read thoroughly by the time she rose to say her goodbyes.

He walked with her to the hallway door. Still naked in her presence, he knew it was his proper state in order to respect her dominant role.

Before she opened the door, she turned toward him.

In an unexpected but gentle movement, she drew him into her arms, tilted his head back, and planted a long, deep, lingering, kiss on his lips. Her hands briefly explored his body while she embraced him, ending with the cupping of his ass cheeks with both her hands.

Breaking the kiss she stepped back and watched as he, breathlessly, tried to recover his sense of calm. They both noticed that his cock was beginning to grow again.

"Thank you," she said as she pulled the door open, "for a lovely evening. I look forward to talking with your Mistress and telling her that you were a good boy for me."

"Thank you, ma'am, you have been very generous with your time and attention."

With the door wide open, she paused in the doorway and smiled at him, not caring if anyone walked past and saw them.

"Rest well, my dear," she smiled and pointed one finger at his growing cock, "and no playing with that until your Mistress milks it again."

"Yes, ma'am," he said quietly to the rapidly closing door.