That'll do, Donkey

He was lazing on my couch when I stalked past on the way to the basement dressed in stockings and heels, a corset cinching my waist and lacy black underwear covering my ass and breasts.

"Hey, does your Wi-Fi- Oh, fuck. You look amazing!"

I didn't respond to question about the Wi-Fi, or the compliment. Instead I clicked my fingers at him in clear command: come.

Turning my back on him, I headed down the stairs. I gave a small smile as I heard him scrambling to follow me.

The basement bedroom had been carefully prepped. It was warmer than normal, dimly lit with candles -- one of which was a special, low-temperature one. On the bedside table was a glass filled with ice and a small, suede flogger. Ties lay discreetly on the floor, awaiting a victim, a scarf slung over the headboard.

"Christ, baby. I'm getting a chubby just looking at you. I-,"

"Take off your clothes." I turned around and folded my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow when he didn't immediately begin to undress then nodding in slow approval when his hands went to the buttons of his short. By the time he got to his underwear I could see he hadn't lied: he was already hard. Good.

"On the bed. On your back."

"Yeah? Sure, baby. This is so fucking hot!"

I sighed, but he didn't notice, babbling on.

"If you continue to run your mouth, I'm going to find something to put in it," I told him. "Like my panties."

He stopped mid-word, eyes widening. Then he shut his fucking mouth.

I watched him climb naked onto the bed, rolling over until he was laid on his back. Walking over to him, my heels clicking on the laminate flooring, I put a knee on the bed and then swung over until I was straddling him, my weight on his chest, my lacy-covered pussy inches from his face. His eyes were glued there, paying no attention as I slid the scarf free from the headboard. He only flicked his gaze up to me as I folded it, ensuring total blindness once I placed it over his eyes and tied it behind his head.

"Hands up and on the pillow," I ordered.

He complied and I tied restraints around both wrists. Not too tight, and not too restraining; just enough to make sure he couldn't get in my way.

"That's better," I murmured.

Sliding back slightly, until I could feel the jut of his erection against my ass, I licked at his mouth, slicking my tongue inside before biting at his bottom lip. I slid off him and stood beside the bed and admired the body there, waiting for me to play with, his cock hard and bobbing against his stomach as it pulsed with excitement.

"Where to start?" I murmured to myself. Reaching out, I stroked my fingertips gently up the inside of his thigh. Just before I reached his sac, I pulled my touch away and leaned across, raking my nails hard up his opposite side, all the way from hip to underarm. He jerked, tugging on the restraint as he fought to protect his side, forgetting that he couldn't.

I licked my lips as I reached for an ice cube from the glass.

The heat of the room meant it had already started melting and it left a watery trail as I ran it down his neck and across his clavicle. Over his nipple, down his stomach. I let it linger there, just above his cock, before pulling it away and scraping a single nail up the arch of his foot. He grunted, twitching away.

"Stay still," I warned. He put his foot back down, and I rewarded and punished him by sliding the ice cube over and around his balls until his arms were clenching and his jaw was clenched.

I reached for the flogger.

I started with the softest of trails over his palm, ticking his fingertips. Down his unmolested side, over the swollen, deep pink head of his cock and along the length of his shin. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I slapped it hard on his inner thigh.

Back to ice around a single nipple, in slow, tantalising circles.

The flogger, sliding gently over the bridge of his nose and his chin, running up the sensitive skin of his inner arm. Over his balls. A hard slap against his hip.

Ice. Slowly, slowly up the length of his shaft, following by the warmth of my tongue, licking up the cold droplets.

The flogger, slapping in quick succession on his arm, stomach, outer thigh and then hip, just a hairsbreadth from his cock.

I circled the ice in the hollow of his throat, then ran it up his neck and over the bristles of his beard.

"Open." He obeyed and I slipped the thin sliver of cube inside. "Hold that there."

With my free hand, I reached for the candle, using the spout to run a trail across his stomach. It was a milky white colour and it hardened as it ran down the length of his side, lingering like a trail of cum.

Back to the flogger. Running from his toes to the crease at the top of his thigh, twisting my wrist to land a sharp flick on his chest, catching the nipple. He let out a hiss, and I dribbled another hot stream of wax over his upper thigh at the same moment, turning that hiss into a sharp cry.

I dropped the flogger and reached for more ice, running it all over as I anointed drops of wax on his chest, hip, upper foot and collarbone. He was leaning into it now, trying to anticipate the next glide of ice, the next small splat of fire. Pre-cum was glistening on the tip of his cock, smearing his stomach as his muscles flexed and cramped.

I blew out the candle and took a fresh cube of ice. Rounding to the end of the bed, I climbed on, settling myself between his legs.

"Hmmm," I murmured.

I slid the ice around his sac, running up his shaft at then holding it there, pressed to the tip, as I laved my way up his cock, my tongue flicking and swirling. When I got there, I pulled the ice away and engulfed him, feeling the chill as I ran my tongue around the tip, dug slightly into his slit and lapped up the pre-cum. I could feel him, rigid beneath my fingers as I gripped him, ready to explode.

I lifted my head, sucking hard so his cock would slip free from my mouth with an audible pop, and repeated the process again. And again. By the fourth time, he was writhing under me, unsure whether he wanted me to do more, more, more... or stop.

I had no intention of stopping.

I played with him, gliding the ice up and down and up and down, sliding round the head until drips ran down the side and over my hand, wrapped around his length and pumping lightly. My cube down to a remnant, I tucked it under his balls and finally gave him what he was desperate for, engulfing him in my mouth and sucking hard as I tightened my gip and pumped in quick, rough strokes.

"I... fuck. Fuck, shit. I'm going to cum!"

I gave three more squeezing pumps of his cock, my tongue rubbing at the underside of the head, my lips a tight seal, before releasing. He groaned, convulsing hard, and streams of cum erupted to lie in gouts across his heaving stomach. I drew my hand slowly up and down the length of him, drawing it out, flicking my tongue against that sensitive spot under the glands, getting my rewards as fresh droplets of cum spurted up.

When he had nothing left to give, I released him, his cock still hard, the entire thing reddened from my attentions but reaching for me, eager for more. I ignored it, going for the bindings and releasing his arms, tugging the blindfold off his head. He stared up at me, all the arrogant humour gone, his pupils dilated.

"Hey," I said, grinning down at him, thrilled by the spaced-out look on his face. "You okay?"

"I... yeah."

I tilted my head to the side as I considered him. "Did you enjoy that?"

"I'm still tingling everywhere," he told me. "Everywhere."

He seemed confused by the fact. I wanted to laugh out loud. Instead I gently tapped his cheek and smiled.

"That'll do, Donkey. That'll do."