The Throne Pt. 02: Their Anniversary

If it weren't for the chair, it would have been more work for me. Without the support for his head, his neck could get wrenched; with it, I could safely press against him or give him room to move. Sure that Jim had thought about what he would do--if not rehearsed it--I gave him some clearance and let him show me his stuff.

His various fucking motions were supplemented by swirls and tilts that churned my tunnel in delightful ways. As if by design, the firm tip of his nose danced with my clit when the shaft could go no deeper. His mouth plugged, every breath filled him with my flourishing aroma.

My hands were free, so I massaged my breasts, yanking and pinching the swollen nipples that I had neglected earlier. Flexing and relaxing my ass and thighs was enough to increase the length of the strokes and I synchronized with him. I could see only his eyes; it was enough to tell how much he loved and worshiped me. He saw more, my hungry demanding face meeting his gaze from above my swaying spheres. Between them, the key to his prison glinted as it dangled on the chain.

It was so much, maybe too much, but not quite enough. Not wanting to abuse my husband's mouth and neck, and needing consistent attention to my clit to go over the edge, I grabbed the vibrator and turned it on.

Closer than I realized, it didn't buzz for long before I cried, "I'm cumming!"

My vagina milked that artificial penis as I ground against Jim's face. I shared my moans, sighs, and expressions of delight with those two eyes, hoping to make up in some way for the pleasure he was being denied.

I was so well-filled, I didn't want to get off him, but it was necessary if I wanted to enjoy the halo of warmth enveloping my body. Standing up drenched his face with a splash of my juices that the dildo had trapped inside me.

It was unexpected and I had to laugh as I unfastened the gag, "I guess you got to taste my nectar anyhow!" He eagerly licked and sucked when I fed him the cock end of it, leaving it standing between his clenched teeth as I let go of it.

"Clean up here and yourself then come to the bedroom," I said, retrieving my negligee.

With those post-orgasm hormones still flowing through me, I nestled between clean sheets and awaited his arrival. He brought a blanket, assuming he would be on the floor again. My biology wanted to hug him, but my role-playing mind would not allow it. I compromised.

"You can sleep on top of the bed tonight," I said, patting the bedspread next to me. "Keep your distance, or you'll be back on the floor," I warned.

As I fell asleep, hearing him breathing beside me, I tried to imagine what he was feeling, trapped in that cruel device while giving and witnessing such pleasure. Was his brain rewarding him in ways his penis, at the moment, could not? There seemed to be no way for me to understand it.

Sunday morning started much as Saturday had. He anticipated warming the towels and dried himself so he didn't drip.

Although he made my breakfast exactly like what I had accepted the day before, I rejected it and made him do it over like what I had rejected then. It was nice to know he paid attention, but I wanted to keep him on his toes.

"We're going to go shopping today," I said as he cleared the table. Still as naked as he had been since Friday evening, he looked down at the chastity device. He plainly hadn't thought about wearing it in public.

"Don't worry, I'll pick out something appropriate for you to wear." My sarcastic voice undermined the reassurance of my words.

While he cleaned up, I changed my clothes and chose an outfit for him.

On a younger, thinner woman, my scoop neck, midriff-baring top, and shorts wouldn't have been unusual. Although it wasn't quite trashy, my older and curvier body was somewhat unexpected in it. The light, pastel fabric allowed a careful observer to notice my nipples and thong underwear. My inappropriate high heels would further provoke attention by shaping my butt and legs as well as making my breasts jiggle as I walked.

Jim was suitably crestfallen at the beta male clothes I had selected: a nerdy plaid shirt with pocketed shorts that didn't mask the bulge of the cage. Tube socks and hiking boots completed the ensemble. The two of us together would certainly make people wonder.

I chose an upscale mall across town, because of the stores it had but also to reduce the chances of running into acquaintances.

As we walked from the car, I handed him my purse to carry, warning him, "If you don't want to hear me call you 'drone' across the store, you should pay attention."

"I will, My Queen," he said.

Strolling through the mall, I enjoyed the glances I was getting. They flattered me while making Jim more self-conscious. I saw several women elbow their partners to stop them from watching me walk by. Unaccompanied men, old and young, stared more blatantly.

"Do you think his cock is bigger than yours?" I whispered to Jim, referring to a handsome athletic guy who was probably half our age. The bulge in his shorts was all-natural and at least a little inspired by me as he watched us approach from a distance. "I mean, even if you weren't crammed into that thing," I added with an evil grin.

"It looks like it from here, My Queen," my husband's voice was forlorn.

I didn't need to look back to know the young man continued to watch as we walked past him, but Jim couldn't resist checking.

As I tried on and purchased items in several stores, he held my purse and the growing number of packages. Our last stop was the sex boutique and he stood behind me as I had the salesman demonstrate the latest high-tech vibrators. I surprised myself by not blushing as we discussed their operation and effects in explicit, albeit medically-approved, terms. Being dominant affected my attitude as well!

After deciding to buy the most elaborate one, I turned to the array of strap-ons on the wall. "I suppose you want me to get something for you as well," I needled.

I almost laughed out loud as the two men exchanged glances when I picked one with a realistic-looking but oversized dong and positioned the harness to check that it would fit me. Jim's mortification at what the salesman must be thinking might have been tempered by his imagination of me putting it to use.

We returned home and I changed into comfortable clothes and enjoyed another nap while my husband undressed and prepared dinner. He outdid himself and I could find nothing to complain about.

"Is it my imagination or has that chastity cage made you try harder than you usually do?" I giggled at the pun.

"My Queen," he quickly suppressed his grin, "I always want to make you happy. Perhaps it is a more persistent reminder."

After I finished eating, I moved to the living room, this time using the TV to search the internet. I was browsing femdom clips, noticing how rarely the women seemed to enjoy what they were doing.

When Jim finished his cleanup, he joined me and I had him sit on the floor and massage my feet and calves. Relishing the relief after a day in high heels at the mall and lamenting that women have to suffer for men, I decided it was time to please myself.

"Go prepare my throne and be ready to service me," I ordered. Although gratified by the experience, I had done enough work dominating my husband this weekend. It was time to unwind.

Having lit the candles and dimmed the light, Jim was in position with his caged cock in plain view. Undressing, I slowly settled onto the seat, letting him see the object of his desire approach and stop inches away.

"Worship my pussy," I instructed. "Show me you deserve to be my drone."

He began slowly, nuzzling my furry areas with his lips and nose. His chest rose and fell as he inhaled my scent deeply. I relaxed, ceding the initiative to him for a while. Gradually, his tongue became involved as he found nooks and crannies to explore. Wetness supplied by both of us made the smooth areas slippery.

Over twenty years of practice gave him skills and familiarity that he applied diligently. He knew my pace and my rhythms, improvising to keep things fresh, but ensuring the main melody continued. Rapid flicks teased my clit, building a desire for solid contact; his flat tongue supplied pressure that calmed it until the suction of his lips ignited another spark.

With the patience of a plug-in vibrator, he continued. Each chorus moved me closer, but he let me decide whether I wanted another verse or was ready for the coda. I floated that way for several sweet slow minutes, unfocused until my eyes landed on his body emerging between my legs, and the cage that showed his devotion to me.

Extending my leg, I toyed with it. He paused perhaps in surprise at first contact but went back to work as I played with it between my feet. Maybe it was the slight change in position or a developing idea, but I felt my climax approach.

Jim must have realized it before I did because he changed his pattern, launching me into euphoria, sucking my clit the way I loved as the waves of pleasure buffeted me. My moans and sighs subsided, but absent instructions, he returned to his earlier techniques.

When my brain began to function again, my feet and eyes were on the cock that I loved and I knew I had to release it. I rationalized that it had been over 48 hours, but in any case, I was the queen so I could choose to pardon it.

Kneeling astride his chest, I bent forward to use the key. Close up, I could see how his tender flesh tried to overflow the constraint and removed it as gently as I could manage. Without thinking, I swallowed the compressed member whole, applying my saliva as a balm, my gentle suction encouraging it to inflate to fill my mouth.

"Thank you, My Queen!" I heard behind me. It reminded me of my role and the rest of my idea. Despite my mercy, the weekend was not over so I returned to my seat. He didn't wait for permission or command before resuming his oral caresses, but I wasn't in the mood to interrupt them to discipline him.

Having left the cage in pieces on his chest, I marveled at how tall and straight its former contents rose before me. Grabbing the lube, I squirted a generous amount on my feet. Rubbing them together to spread it, I stretched them to his pole. With it nestled between my arches, he couldn't keep his hips from trying to thrust.

His mouth became more energetic as I used my feet to fondle him. It was distracting me and I wasn't giving him the footjob I had intended. Nonetheless, I guessed he was horny enough not to need a lot of stimulation.

"Drone, if you make me cum again, you can cum with my feet," I said, my voice low with the growing excitement from his continuing stimulation and the prospect of seeing him explode.

I bounced like I was on a bumpy road, between squirming above his incessant mouth and trying to stroke his penis with my toes. My elbows extended to the arms of the throne to brace me against the motion of my legs, leaving my hands to play with my tits. My husband ensured that he would not cum before me by intently propelling me forward.

It was still a photo finish; as I approached my edge, I couldn't properly attend to his cock. The best I could do was mash it against his belly with the ball of my foot and stroke erratically. It was enough.

"Yes! Cum with me!" I squealed. The sight of a stream of milky fluid shooting up his chest, some landing on my other foot and leg, made my heart leap as the ecstasy consumed me. My spasms translated through my leg to draw more from his nozzle. The pulses of pleasure in me and spunk from him seemed to go on and on.

I was beyond hearing the first few times he sang, "Thank you, My Queen!"

He repeated it until I interrupted him. "That's enough for now, drone."

We stayed like that for several minutes, strangely close yet separate. Idly, I used my feet to caress his spent organ, wiggling my toes in the substantial puddle on his belly.

Queen again, I sat up straighter and spoke, "Drone, come out from there. You have a mess to clean up."

My husband's head emerged as he scooted out from under the throne, but I stopped him with a slimy foot in his face. His eyes widened as he realized what I intended and he began to lick his semen from my toes. I dipped my other foot in the pool and fed it to him, alternating feet until it was gone. Sitting up, he checked my legs and slurped up those tracks as well.

Whatever thrill he got out of it, it was ticklish fun for me. Each tongue stroke and toe suck sent a shiver through my post-climax sensitive body.

"Enough," I said when my toes were well past clean and I was struggling not to laugh. Withdrawing my foot, I stood up.

Before I stepped away, I paused, wanting to relish and engrave the image in my mind: me, my hands on my hips, looking down; him, his shackle unlocked next to him, looking up; my throne, still warm and damp, separating yet connecting us.

"Come to the bedroom when you're done," I said, turning to go. He didn't move as he watched me walk away, leaping to his feet only after I stepped into the hall. He cleaned up quickly and rushed to join me. Watching his unbound cock waggle as he hurried into the room gave me special delight.

"Happy Anniversary, Jim!" I said, welcoming him under the sheets.

"Happy Anniversary, Pam!" he replied, adding, "You will always be my queen."