The scientific method 6 - fantasy cum proposal
It had been a long, long month, locked by her command. Now in a quiet room he lay, bound and panting with denied demand. Hours passed and when breathless and dizzy, she leant in close and whispered time for your jizzy!
Mistress untied her toy. She untied his bound genitals and slipped off his blindfold. Naked he lolled and stretched ashamed of his nakedness and his pale, padded form.
- Get up my little bitch.
She gripped him by his balls and led him into the bathroom. Cock red and sore, bruised from its bindings but bobbling with hopeful desire.
She flicked on the light and marched him to the sink. In the harsh and unforgiving light he saw two clothes pegs and a pair of rubber gloves. He registered them and registered their potential, their threat. But he'd been too many years of being bossed and broken to do anything but stand as she directed. Hands held behind his back, legs apart, her grip on his balls released only briefly to allow her to put on the thin surgical gloves. She bid him open his mouth and popped the two pegs on his 'lying tongue'. Her hand returned to the strong grip on his balls. His masochist cock wagged over the sink.
His tongue ached and drool dribbled down his chest. Her spare hand rubbed it tenderly into his nipples. He felt low, disgusting, dirty.
- Look at yourself!
He stared into his own reflection, secretly looking at her, wishing he was somewhere else, lost in his own sense of self loathing and shame.
She collected more drool. Rubbed it into his hard shaft, rubbed it into his sensitive head. Rubbed it in til dry, rubber squeaking on over sensitive flesh. Collected more drool, fetched it fresh from his mouth, her dirty fingers in his dirty mouth.
- Hump bitch!
Fingers closed lightly round his cock. He humped them to a pace she controlled by the grip on his nuts. Slow and light. His tongue lolled in its clamping pegs, drool fell to his chest and cock and added to his shame, if not overmuch to his need for lube.
The orgasm was building and building and he had to be reminded regularly to open his eyes and look at himself, a pale fat man humping himself into the sink.
The orgasm built but he could tell her grip was loosening as he appoached. When it started it was easily removed and gone. As he wailed through the absence of pleasure, felt his orgasm ebb away, his sole pleasure her grip on his scrotum, hip thrusting reduced to nought by that self same grip, he saw her hand cupped before him. It had caughr most of his dribbles. It flew to his face and smeared his ejaculate over his face, into his hair and down his chest, where it mixed with his drool.
She released her grip on his balls to grab his cock and roughly squeezed the last dribbles from it, into her other hand to return to his face, fingers roughly ploughing into a mouth held open by the pegged tongue.
- Enjoy that piggie?
Tongue clamped and through her marauding fingers he waffled his assent.
Mistress untied her toy. She untied his bound genitals and slipped off his blindfold. Naked he lolled and stretched ashamed of his nakedness and his pale, padded form.
- Get up my little bitch.
She gripped him by his balls and led him into the bathroom. Cock red and sore, bruised from its bindings but bobbling with hopeful desire.
She flicked on the light and marched him to the sink. In the harsh and unforgiving light he saw two clothes pegs and a pair of rubber gloves. He registered them and registered their potential, their threat. But he'd been too many years of being bossed and broken to do anything but stand as she directed. Hands held behind his back, legs apart, her grip on his balls released only briefly to allow her to put on the thin surgical gloves. She bid him open his mouth and popped the two pegs on his 'lying tongue'. Her hand returned to the strong grip on his balls. His masochist cock wagged over the sink.
His tongue ached and drool dribbled down his chest. Her spare hand rubbed it tenderly into his nipples. He felt low, disgusting, dirty.
- Look at yourself!
He stared into his own reflection, secretly looking at her, wishing he was somewhere else, lost in his own sense of self loathing and shame.
She collected more drool. Rubbed it into his hard shaft, rubbed it into his sensitive head. Rubbed it in til dry, rubber squeaking on over sensitive flesh. Collected more drool, fetched it fresh from his mouth, her dirty fingers in his dirty mouth.
- Hump bitch!
Fingers closed lightly round his cock. He humped them to a pace she controlled by the grip on his nuts. Slow and light. His tongue lolled in its clamping pegs, drool fell to his chest and cock and added to his shame, if not overmuch to his need for lube.
The orgasm was building and building and he had to be reminded regularly to open his eyes and look at himself, a pale fat man humping himself into the sink.
The orgasm built but he could tell her grip was loosening as he appoached. When it started it was easily removed and gone. As he wailed through the absence of pleasure, felt his orgasm ebb away, his sole pleasure her grip on his scrotum, hip thrusting reduced to nought by that self same grip, he saw her hand cupped before him. It had caughr most of his dribbles. It flew to his face and smeared his ejaculate over his face, into his hair and down his chest, where it mixed with his drool.
She released her grip on his balls to grab his cock and roughly squeezed the last dribbles from it, into her other hand to return to his face, fingers roughly ploughing into a mouth held open by the pegged tongue.
- Enjoy that piggie?
Tongue clamped and through her marauding fingers he waffled his assent.
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