To Be Used or to be Spoiled
My business trip is coming to an end. It was uneventful, but I was able to secure the deals I had been hoping for. There weren't any flirtatious or sexual encounters, I stayed in touch with my wife every day through phone calls and messages.
Kind of boring, isn't it? Yet, little did I know that she had a surprise prepared for me.
"To be used or to be pampered?" reads her single text message to me the night before I arrived back home.
I respond with a single question mark, unsure of what she means.
"Don't act ignorant. When you get home, I want you. What do you choose?"
Her text message leaves me puzzled for a moment, but the idea of being used is more enticing. So I respond, "To be used."
Upon my return home, I am not greeted with the usual warm welcome of a hug and a kiss. Instead, there's a note waiting for me: "Shower, don't dress, and go to the attic." I'm surprised at how my homecoming is unfolding in just the first minute. I venture up the stairs and find a handwritten note waiting for me: "Put on the eye cover, knock on the door, keep quiet, and don't make a sound." This is becoming increasingly strange and exciting.
I follow the instructions and find a black eye cover, a blindfold I'm familiar with since it lets no light through. After knocking, I hear the attic door open. The first thing I notice is the aroma of her shower gel. The details stand out more when you can't see anything. I'm led inside by my wrists, guided to what I estimate to be the center of the room.
Rose kisses me. While it's not a warm, romantic kiss, it feels businesslike. She doesn't say a word, but I can sense that she's in charge. The air is charged with anticipation. Rose tells me to lie down. I'm glad it's warm in the attic thanks to the hot air heating, as I'd rather not be on the cold vinyl floor. She gently ties something around my wrists and pulls it tight, extending my arms out. She repeats this process with my other arm.
I hear her move away. Could this be the start of what I want? My body responds with excitement, and I'm getting hard, but I'm still uncertain of what exactly is going to happen next. She hadn't touched me at all up until now. All I notice is that she's naked when she rubs her nipples and other parts of her body against me. My dick is getting harder by the second from her touch. That was definitely her intention. [Rose rubs her nipples and body against me, setting my desire ablaze.]
Rose commands me again to close my legs together. With some sort of band, she wraps around my knees to my ankles. She's intent on giving no quarter, not even in my mobility. I hear her tie up my legs, making the rope extremely tight. I immediately understand that she's taken away my last bit of freedom, making me completely immobile.
She places a pillow under my head and says, confidently, that her preparations have been completed. Despite the exciting anticipation, I can't help but worry if I had made the right choice between being pampered or used. If she goes to such great lengths to prepare, I can't help but feel a thrill in what's to come.
I hadn't seen her nor felt her touch until now, aside from being positioned and tied up. She reveals her nudity by rubbing her breasts and other body parts against me, fueling my arousal even more. While I'm already hard, her touch makes my desire grow even more—[Rose rubs herself against me, stoking my desire.]
Have you jerked off in the past week? This query carries a bluntness I haven't noticed in her for a while. "No," I honestly respond. "It's good, I'll have more to work with... But you know you'll finish as soon as I touch you. So, I need to get that out of the way first." Instantly, she starts to play with my penis. It's already erect from arousal, but apparently not hard enough for her liking. She retracts my foreskin even more to better experience the glans. I sense scratching, biting, and intense sucking. Additionally, she softly caresses it and gently blows over it to create a diverse range of sensations. Even though I find it difficult to control myself, I manage to hang on.
She smoothly moves her hands along my entire dick's length and, after roughly jerking me off twice, it's evident that she knows my body well: I ejaculate. A substantial amount of stored semen bursts out. I perceive that it's a large supply.
Yet, the sensation of warm semen on my abdomen is missing. Instead, I experience laughter and a noise I can't identify.
I don't need long to grasp what's happening. "Eat it" is the concise yet challenging command. "That's what you desired, correct?" Deep down, I have to admit she's right. Indeed, the notion of eating my own ejaculate is incredibly arousing. Most likely a mix of taboo and vaginal dryness. However, post-orgasm, the fantasy is no longer enticing. But she won't allow me to back out. There's no point in whining or saying "no." On the contrary, her perseverance appears to be increasing. "Yes, this time you'll eat it. You volunteered to be subjected, so accept the repercussions. This is only the beginning, so don't complicate matters by resisting me..."
She grabs my head and forces my mouth open with her thumb and index finger. I feel a warm liquid on my tongue, followed by her spitting into my mouth and washing her mouth above my head. I realize what it means to be dominated.
Then comes the spoon, with a generous scoop of ejaculate, and then another. And another one. The salty liquid is forcibly spooned into my mouth. It's abundant; if only I'd masturbated, I think to myself. But at the same time, I understand I want to be pushed. Those conflicting ideas are frustrating. I don't have the chance to contemplate further, as the current situation demands my full attention. I sense the viscous substance of semen on my tongue and she also rubs some of it on my face and into my nose. I detest the sensation and attempt to turn my head away. However, her grip is firm, and Rose refuses to allow me to evade her will. After the third spoonful of ejaculate, she lets go of my mouth and clamps my nose. A sneaky but effective method to force me to swallow. I'm left with a salty taste in my mouth, but I'm overall pleased this ordeal is over. This will be it, I think with a sense of relief.
"There you are. You're a compliant boy, the initial tension is gone, now I'm going to use you for my own pleasure."
My genitalia has become flaccid, but that doesn't deter her. Her hands and mouth are knowledgeable about what to do, and it doesn't take long before my member is once more ready. I still can't see clearly, so I attempt to decipher every motion and noise, preparing myself for what's to come.
I sense her mounting me and, without any further words, she leads me inside and has sex with me. Roughly.
Another surprise: my passenger is quite moist and clean-shaven. Did she use lube? This would imply that she also planned this ahead. Or is it her own fluids that make it so enjoyable to glide in her? That would indicate that she's still eager for me. But I have limited mental space to analyze these ideas. The physical sensations consume all attention of my head and body. It's been a long time since we've been intimate like this, but it still feels natural. She listens to my breathing and monitors my muscle tension, and I recognize that she adjusts her pace of movement. She tries to postpone my climax as long as possible, as she clearly wants to savor that cock for herself.
Despite my earlier orgasm, this session doesn't last as long as I'd like. I cum more rapidly than desired again, as evidenced by her disappointed sighs. I feel bad for her and even more inadequate. However, for the first time in ages, I ejaculate within her. I experience relief and a sense of contentment.
The tone in her voice suggests that the feeling isn't mutual: "Too fast again. You can't do it, can't you? But I also want to enjoy this and you're about to make that happen." She gradually moves back, and I feel my penis, now somewhat limp, slipping out of her vagina.
I feel her shifting about, and next thing I know, she's sitting on my face and pressing her slippery, wet pussy onto my mouth. "Make me cum!" is her simple command. I have no choice but to obey. My mouth is now flooded with the taste of my own release, which has dripped out of her pussy. I lick it up, slurp it up, and eagerly stimulate her pussy, labia, and clitoris with all my might. She also forces me to lick up the semen that had trickled out of her pussy towards her anus. "Clean everything, including the back!" Our mixed fluids make my excitement grow once more. My enthusiasm increases, and I'm doing my best to satisfy her. It seems to be working, and after some time, I feel the muscles around her pelvis get tight. I can hear her labored breathing, which indicates that she's about to climax. With a big moan and a strong push of her pussy onto my mouth, she does. She remains sitting on me, breathless.
"That was better. At least you're good for that. And you've already eaten your own cum twice," she says calmly. "Mmm, must taste a bit salty, right?" she asks teasingly. I nod eagerly, feeling pleased that she's realized she's pushing me to the limit.
But instead of a cup of water, I hear laughter. "I thought you might want to drink. But I don't have any water for you. I've saved up, and my bladder is now full. So, open your mouth... and swallow everything, don't waste anything!" She hasn't finished speaking yet, and I already feel the warm stream in my mouth. It's been a long time since I've felt this, and it's immediately familiar. She's right, she's drunk a lot. And I'm drinking a lot of her flow right now. I swallow handfuls of her streaming pee.
Not everything ends up in my mouth. When she pees on my neck, face, and eyes, I get the impression that she's doing it on purpose. To mark me as her property, to make me feel like she's physically marking me and to let me know that I belong to her. She slides the eye mask away and, for the first time, I look into her eyes, which are wide with lust and pride. She looks at me defiantly, as if to say, "You didn't think that about me, did you?" We look at each other as I drink her dry.
"Now you understand why I chose the attic with its vinyl floor covering to welcome you home, darling... We should do this more often, don't you think?" she asks casually. However, I cannot answer her question. Although she's taken off the eye mask, she's stuffed my mouth with an old t-shirt instead. And for good measure, she also pees in my stuffed mouth. It feels like a sponge is holding my mouth wide open while stopping me from making any noise. It appears that there's more to come, as I realize. Now I'm getting a bit more concerned.
I follow her hands with my eyes and see her grab a bottle of massage oil. She generously drizzles my penis and balls with it. My penis is still sensitive from the previous orgasms, so my muffled moans seem to encourage her. For now, she focuses on my balls. She begins kneading and massaging them. Not gently but firmly and with clear determination. "Let's see if I can shake more sperm out of you," she says with a hint of threat. While she pulls my testicles forward with one hand to get closer access, she uses the other hand to hit them. First, she taps them lightly with the bottom of her hand, then hits them harder with every tap. She pushes the limits of what's pleasurable and what isn't, and she's doing it extremely well. The feeling is almost too intense, but I also notice a sense of satisfaction within me; that she dares to push me to the limit.
The makeshift gag in my mouth effectively muffles all verbal resistance. The cuffs she used to hold me still at the beginning are still in place, so there's no point in any physical struggle. There's no escape, her actions become more and more forceful, and she's making me hard again. Now the feeling is more painful than nice, and my stifled protests have no effect. I try to accept what's happening. I consciously surrender to her. This is the only way it will be bearable. I try to focus on her pleasure and lust as my reward and as confirmation of the correctness of my response to her earlier question. [Remember that this is just a paraphrase of the original story and does not include any personal feedback or comments from myself]
Eager to experience the consequences of her actions, she intensifies the handjob, ceaselessly repeating "Fast approaching... don't cum yet!" I can't tell how many more times she'll bring me to the brink or how long it'll persist. However, it is a thrilling ordeal, where every fleeting moment offers both bliss and agony. All I'm aware of is that my dick throbs excessively, craving for relief and solitude. Yet, it's unfeasible.
Over time, her rhythms become smoother, and it seems her desires have been catered for. However, the show isn't over yet. She deliberately drives me to that same border and plunges me past it. With calculated squeezes, she fondles my dick, testicles, and anus until the outburst is inevitable. Yet, she abruptly halts any contact just as I cross the finish line. Hence, loses the pleasure that should follow.
As I squirt, the residual jizz drips out. While I'm struggling with the situation, she pulls the t-shirt from my mouth, flings it over my face for show, and then demands "Clean that cum off too! I'll get a spoon ready for you... Open your mouth... and consume it!"
Inescapably, I try to devour it at a fast pace and swiftly swallow the semen. Unsurprisingly, she notices it's less than satisfactory. "Still not good, even after the third attempt," she mocks. Mercifully, she mentions "Practice will eventually make you better."
Truly discouraging, I'm now sweating, caked, exhausted, and foresee more unfavorable occurrences.
She departs giggling and pityingly observes me. Beyond doubt, I've become a conduit for her passion. Further, I'm anticipating to fulfill her wishes. She releases my hands so I can undo the restraints. After some time away, she returns, dressed, and offers me a box. "So, regretting your decision to serve me?" "No, no regrets. While it wasn't simple, I'm content with my choice."
"Don't underestimate the pleasure, I'm not done yet!"
I'm shocked. What's next?
"There are only two rules. Firstly, each time you ejaculate, you shall consume it. Another way to put it, you must swallow every ejaculate, irrespective of the volume. Understood?"
"Yes, dear, crystal clear..." I mutter. Clearly, that's not affirmatively enough, revealed by her glance. "Rest assured, I'll drill you into yearning for it, even if I'm not present." I can't imagine myself ever desiring to eat my own sperm, currently hesitating hoping she continues the training.
"Rule two: wear this collar while at home. It'll remind you that you're mine, dear. Here, I acquired a beautiful steel collar for you, so try it on... And maybe, someday, I'll acquire something unique for your little dick as well!"
I expose my neck, allowing her to clasp the collar. To my astonishment, it's locked. This wasn't mentioned before, I realize in amazement.
She hands me a fresh set of clothes and points to the door, flippantly "Oh, and by the way honey, I'd like some Chinese. Will you get it? Do ensure your coat is securely fastened at the throat, dear, we don't want others to discover your subservient nature... Not yet, of course!"
I can still hear her chuckling while I fetch take-out.
Read also:
- Peeping Tom Spanked Publicly
- No desire to debate
- World Fetish Convention Pt. 01
- Punishment Like No Other Ch. 04
Source: www.nice-escort.de
