I tell you to kneel, running my nails across the bare skin of your chest. It's freshly waxed; you know how I don't like your chest hairy. You break out in goosebumps, and I press harder. I remind you that you are not to move, you are not to make a sound until I say so. You think about disobeying me, but you don't.
Don't lie. I saw the thought flash across your face.
I know everything about you. But that's not really the point, is it? The real fact of the matter is that you want to know me. You want to sink your delicious cock into my warm, wet pussy, to lick and taste my desire as it trickles down my inner thigh. And I just might let you. But only if you are good.
But you're not good, are you? You don't think of others first, hmm? You listen to what I ask of you all the time? I see you nodding, and rake my nails across your shoulderblades. I told you not to move. You barely hold in the brief cry of pain, and you just keep yourself from arching away from me. I lighten my touch, and caress the back of your neck.
You know, you're really just too gorgeous for words. Here you are, disobeying me even now, and I can't help but be nice to you, and contemplate giving you what you want. I tell you to get up onto the bed, and lie down, with your knees beneath you, kneeling and hunched over on the bed. You don't even need a prompt; good boy.
I position myself under you, and I take the chain attached to your collar and pull your head down to my pussy. I force you down, onto me, and I tell you to lick me until I come. But here's the thing; I'm not sure about this. Is it right for me to be rewarding you with a taste of me when you've been so very bad?
Ah. You're good. You know that; it's one of the reasons I keep forgiving you. And there's the fact that you still have that little bit of fight in you, some small part that wants to fight me for control. And I'm sure you'd like that, bringing me to heel. But you aren't sure you could, are you? I see the hesitation in your eyes, when you consider breaking away, and the fear you hold of losing me. I release my hold on the chain, and dig my fingers into your skull, massaging and holding you down. Don't be afraid, baby. You won't lose me.
It's coming. You're taut; you're as hyped as I am. Oh! Mmm...! Ahh!
You don't stop as I come down, and I smile at you even though I know you can't see. I pull your face upright with my hands, and let you see how happy you made me. I give you permission to speak, and ask you if you want your turn. You say yes mistress, but you know what? I'm still not sure about you. Have you really been good enough for me to allow your orgasm? Hmmm.
You can see me thinking about it. I can see your cock, a shadow of need between your legs, and I can see how hard you are trying. I suppose you have been good. I mean, it isn't easy restraining yourself from my body; I know how hard you find it.
I get out from under you, and place my hips directly behind yours. Using my chain, I pull you upright, but not too hard. I don't want to hurt you, my dear one. You're still kneeling, but you can feel my naked breasts against your back, my thighs against your buttocks. You tense up; you're not used to so much contact. I smile, and place my chin on your shoulder, just next to your ear, my hand on your pectorial in front of it.
Place me, I say. Place my hand where you would have me touch you. You can have one caress, only one. Choose, my pet, choose.
Slowly, you take my hand, and twist around, pulling my body around you. Slowly, so I can pull away, if I wish. Slowly, you raise your eyes to meet mine, and you lift your jaw to mine. You touch your lips to mine.
I... My eyes are closed, and all I can feel is you, holding me close. I still have your chain, and use it to pull you in harder. I...
I push you away, and you return to your posture on the bed, kneeling, with your top half bowed over. I caught a hint of the smile on your face before you moved back down. I can't keep the smile of mine, either. Sometimes, I relish how you continue to break the rules. You keep surprising me. I shake my head; what am I going to do with such a naughty boy?
I get up, and place my weight on your back. I pull hard on your collar, hard enough to almost constrict your breathing. You don't move. Sometimes, you know when you need to be punished.
I hiss into your ear. I tell you how bad you've been, and how I should punish you, but I won't tonight. I feel your shoulders sag a little; disappointed?
I keep my hold on your collar tight, and sit up on my knees, behind you. I place the palm of my hand on your sack, and squeeze gently. I push your hips upward, maintaining my grip, and you lift them. You remembered not to groan, too. I smile.
I let go of your sack, and reach in further, scoring the soft skin along the underside of your cock with my nails. When I reach the tip, covered by your foreskin, I pinch it lightly.
Slowly, I place my nails along either side of your cock, careful not to touch you with my skin, and pull down the skin on your cock, revealing the head. I place my other hand on your sack again, and grip you cock firmly around the base.
I'm going to milk you, I whisper. I'm going to drain you boy, make you want me more. You pulse in my hand, and my grin widens.
I begin to pump, my forefinger and my thumb encircling the base of your cock, while my other hand toyed at your sack, pinching, squeezing, and very occasionally slipping down lower, touching the sensitive skin between your balls and your anus.
I can feel your orgasm approaching, and I slow down. I'm barely moving my hand up or down, more just shaking my wrist. I can hear you gasping, can feel your desperation. You're on the edge.
I wrench your head backwards, pulling you upright fiercely, and jerk you hard, my hand gripping you, once, twice.
You moan, and your mouth opens. I shake my head, as I feel your come coming up your shaft. I place the tip of my nail along the underside of your cock, blocking the exit. You gasp, and I let go, allowing you to spurt out hard onto the bed, breathing heavily.
I roll you over, and look into your eyes.
What on earth am I to do with you, I say.
You look at me earnestly. I shake my head.
Do you love me, I ask.
You look at me, and your expression changes.