The Cigar

I sit, lazily, in an overstuffed armchair. The chair faces the fireplace. My back faces the doorway. I am expectant. I bring the cigar to my lips and puff on it gently. I let the slender stream of smoke escape from my lips with a small hiss of air. I shiver, even as the fire crackles before me casting a warm glow across my naked body. As you enter the room you see the smoke rise in an erotic swirl above my head. My hair is shiny clean. Your hand reaches forward eager to touch it. You hold yourself back.

You hear me sigh and a smile crosses your lips. Silently you shut the door behind you. At which point I become aware of your presence is unclear. Is it before I hear the solid click of the lock turning?

I look down at my own hand in surprise. It shakes slightly. I hurriedly place the burning mix of leaves and paper on the ashtray. Slightly fearful I will burn myself. I rest my now clammy hands on my thighs. I attempt to control my breathing, to calm myself.

Your hand rests now on the armrest to my right. I no longer care about my breathing. I am overwhelmed by the heady scent of you. Your aroma, soap and shampoo, or is it your after shave, perhaps even simply deodorant. I sigh with a different feeling now. My eyes close as I allow my sense of smell to rule.

I feel your fingertips cool against my cheek. They move with slow precision along my jaw line. They flicker briefly about my lips, which part and kiss you lightly. You chuckle and my eyes open. I gasp at the intensity of your stare. You look down at my body now and I feel the heat in my cheeks as I shy away from your perusal. You make a light sound with your tongue, a reprimand. I feel your fingers slide to the back of my neck and then you force me to look into your eyes again. I bite my lip, but know better than to turn away.

You smile again and I am at once pleased to have pleased you.

Your other hand moves to cup my breast. The nipple hardens immediately in response. Your thumb brushes against it teasingly before the fingers come around to pinch it hard. I moan. I feel my body respond instantly. The wetness I fear will be obvious and will glisten embarrassingly on the leather chair in which I sit. You pull me forward and I slide easily off the chair and stand before you. I still need to look up to see you. With your one hand still firmly behind my neck you push me down. Silently I obey and kneel before you. I shiver in delight at such strength.

Finally you speak. "You know I dislike smoke little one, I must take it that you deliberately test my will." You do not ask me a question and I am not so untrained as to speak now in the obvious evidence of your displeasure. I keep my gaze lowered, admiring the shiny polished blackness of your boots. You pick up the ashtray and throw it in its' entirety into the fireplace. It shatters. A startling sound, which causes me to jump in fright, followed quickly by the palm of your hand against my cheek. The burn lingers on shockingly even as the momentum causes me to fall to one side.

I feel the tears prick my eyes but I blink them back impatiently. I would expect no less for my misdemeanor.

"Sit up!" You bark impatiently and I struggle to return to my position. Kneeling again before you I keep my eyes lowered and the burn in my cheek still lingering.

Your hands reach for your own pants. I hear you unbuckle and unzip. I know this won't be pleasant for me. You are not allowing me to please you, to undress you. Your black pants slide down your legs and bunch up at your feet. Your hands grab my head and I am pulled unceremoniously forward. I feel the heat of your erection brush my cheek. The musky scent of you makes my nose twitch. You grab my jaw and force my mouth open. Thrusting your thick member between my lips I hear your command, "suck me wench!" I lick your cock head, attempting to please you with my skill; however, skill is not what you desire. Punishment and pleasure is what you desire.

You thrust your cock deep into my mouth making me choke. I detest this lack of control and you know it. You are delighting in it. I lift my hands to your hips in an attempt to push you away, to allow myself to breathe. You withdraw to my temporary delight only to slap my cheek hard again. My hands reach up to cup my cheek but you quickly grab them. I look up in horror realizing how displeased you really are.

I whimper, too late realizing my fate.

Your one hand easily holds my two wrists. Your other hand reaches slowly into your dinner jacket. I hear the metallic sound of the handcuffs. I shiver, but remain silent.

With deft movements you capture one wrist and bending down you pull it behind my back before connecting it to the other. You stand back briefly admiring your prize. In this position my breasts are pushed out, my shoulders pulled back. My eyes are bright with unshed tears.

Your hands return to my head and pull me forward. This time your thrust makes your exact intentions very clear. You will use me entirely for your pleasure and my punishment. I gag around the thickness of you attempting to relax, to make it less of an ordeal. It is as if you realize my intent and you thrust harder, deeper. I feel the bile rising and this too you seem to be aware of, backing off slightly. I cough and gasp for air only to feel you thrust forward again. Finally despite my struggles you come to a regular rhythmic thrusting. I hear your soft grunts of pleasure. Despite my punishment I feel a flush of happiness and pleasure at this.

There is a brisk knock at the door. Your thrusting continues uninterrupted.

"Yes?" You ask even as you use my mouth for you pleasure. "Sir, the guests are arriving..."

"Show them to the library Charles, I will be there shortly..."

I sniffle, aware that you really are using me. Your ability to converse so calmly is proof of it. Your eyes gleam in satisfaction as you see the sadness in my face even as you fuck it with steady strokes. Your thumbs brush my cheeks gently as you continue to plunder my mouth. Your pace quickens now and my cheeks bulge with the fullness of you. Tears fall freely down my cheeks and I feel your cock pulse against my tongue. With a deep grunt of satisfaction I feel your semen splash against the back of my throat. You pull out and the next spasm splashes across my tongue, twice, filling my mouth well.

"Hold it!" You bark at me. I was about to swallow and my eyes bulge as I attempt to do as I'm told. Your eyes narrow as you watch my throat carefully.

"Show me..." You whisper. I open my mouth carefully and show you my mouth full of frothy white.

You nod in approval.

"Follow me... you may show my guests your present from me before swallowing..." You pull up your pants and walk towards the door. I am expected to follow and with trembling legs I manage to rise to my feet. My arms ache for being cuffed behind me. I struggle not to swallow your load.

Quietly and most subserviently I follow you to the library.