Submissive Companion
The collar is back on her neck again, knowing full well it drives him wild.
Emotions run high when she wears her accessories - cuffs imply she wants directions, while attitude speaks of a desire to be dominated and punished. Crossed wrists signal bondage.
She provocatively flaunts the collar, causing him to go into a state of excited animalistic rage. She's not seeking to be called Kitten, Princess, or Slut tonight, no. She longs for the title and role of Fucktoy.
With a singular finger, he catches onto the metal ring at her neck, gathering her close against his body. The other hand brushes her hair, guiding her face towards his. "Talk to me."
Whimpering with anticipation, she says, "I've been a naughty girl, Sir."
The cues are perfect. He growls, deep inside, sending excitement through his entire body. "Strip for me. Take your time, make it sexy."
She starts removing her clothing, hints of her body becoming visible as each item falls. He's taken with her unwinding herself, showcasing each flaw as an offering. Intrigued, he jogs to the side of the bed, taking his attire off almost instantly.
He takes the leash, attaches it to her collar, and sits on the edge of the bed. She's overcome with modesty and lust as she reveals her body to him, making her even hornier.
He's clasping the leash's loop around one hand, watching her strip before him with his other. He appreciates her every imperfection, finding her to be exquisite, loving the anticipation of the upcoming event.
Tugging the leash, directing her by allowing it to loop through his wrists, he commands, "Get on your hands and knees."
On his lap, she precariously examines his erection. The scarcity of his length is nowhere near a disadvantage. His broad girth is loved.
Her breath periodically grazes his unsheathed member. With impatience building, he catches her disobedience by cracking the whip against her backside. Another welt arises, hard and hot, next to the previous.
"Back to it. Tongue only. Now."
She groans with both frustration and pleasure. Despite the disobedience, they both relish the buildup. She'll release him, but not yet.
Defying his command, with a passion that's hard to control, she struggles to remove the crop and rubs it across her wounds. The pain works as a stimulant, arousing her even further.
Yanking her off his cock in response to the contrary action, he snaps angrily, "Disrespectful little Fucktoy."
Swings from the whip land in accusatory motion, popping against her thighs, and grazing her center. The ensuing wails around his cock push his lust into overdrive.
He snaps the whip near her skin, rainbow-colored welts bursting across her body. Rather than comforting her, each blow reminds her of her actions. Once the number reaches three, she bout's, hands flailing and cries rack his ears.
Pressing her down he holds her head in his lap, using her hair to grip her, "You'll suffer."
As she tries to wiggle free and lick around his cock, she's harshly pulled away. Striking her bottom with the crop, his husky voice permeates the room, "Bad... little... Fucktoy."
Crying tears she spreads them on her cheeks, rubbing her hands. Her arms move quickly, glancing over her shoulders, hinting at fingering. Distracted, she isn't in control of her will to break him. Her head dives back to his lap out of overexcitement. She receives the product of her actions: a hard, forceful pummeling into her throat.
Detaching the leash from her collar, he nudges her towards the bed. "Good, but not enough."
Her rear arises, taunting him with her open ass.
He lubes her up, bringing her back to her knees, "Lie on your stomach, ass in the air... confess."
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Death's Angel, Part 4:
- Incident: Chapter 2
- A Never-ending Contest: Volume 1, Chapters 16-25
Source: www.nice-escort.de
