The chilled Champagne tingled in her mouth and spread through her with an emboldening power as she relaxed in the warm bath. A wry smile emerged as she surveyed the room. Scented candles, flowers, and warm fluffy towels folded to perfection.
He'd been an excellent study. She'd had to be strict with him in the beginning. Zero tolerance to any male ego, or any lapse in his concentration on serving her. She'd whipped and spanked him raw in order to get him to where he was, but goodness, it was paying dividends.
The spell was broken for just a split-second as he disturbed the silence, opening the door and approaching the bath. He looked gorgeous. Dressed in just a tight black pair of boxers, the outline of his chastity cage clearly visible. Just the sight of that cage made her throb between her legs. His six-pack was starting to show, though she made a mental note not to reduce his required daily gym time just yet.
"Are you ready to move next door Ma'am?" he spoke softly, all the while keeping his gaze at the floor. She nodded and he took her champagne flute from her hand and placed it out of the way. The towel was opened and held outstretched ready to envelop her wet body as she stood and stepped out onto the floor. His arms wrapped it around her and he simultaneously dried and hugged her.
In the bedroom, her nightdress was carefully laid out on the down-turned sheets of her bed. A fresh glass of champagne stood on the nightstand. She reached the bed and dropped her towel. She felt him blush as he caught just a glimpse of her delicious nude form, freshly bathed, and awaiting his attentions. There was a distinct twitch of his cock-cage in his shorts, but dutifully his eyes fell back to the floor in submission.
He slipped the silky nightwear over her raised arms and down her torso. It felt good against her skin. She was completely dry but for her sex, which was almost dripping with desire. "Kneel Down," she commanded, noting how he was in position, even before she finished the command.
She grabbed her wooden hairbrush from the bedside table. It was a large and heavy affair that she’d inherited from her mother, and it was capable of taming much more than just unruly locks. Holding it in her hand she began to pace, walking in front of him, and then behind him, all the while keeping her gaze firmly on his bowing form.
“Today is Tuesday, James. Date night is Friday. Have you made a plan?”
Silence.
“I see. So Date Night is not something that is high on your list of priorities, then, I assume?” she continued, smiling to herself at how much of a strict schoolteacher she was sounding. She moved to stand in front of him, her shapely nude legs at shoulders distance apart, and her arms folded at her front. “Look at me," she added firmly. “Well?” An eyebrow arching quizzically on her face as he obediently looked up at her.
“Ma’am, I’ve tried to get to it, but it’s been a busy week,” his voice was bone dry and the colour faded from his cheeks. She could see that he realised that was not a good answer.
“You better get on all fours and kiss my feet, right now” she growled. He instantly complied, giving her the most delicious glimpse of his taut back. She licked her lips at the definition coming through on those deltoids. Absolutely no relaxing of his gym requirement, that was for sure.
He kissed each foot with a single but meaningful kiss and returned to kneeling in front of her.
“You have disappointed me, James, so what do you say?”
The tone of his voice betrayed the sense of unfairness he felt at having not planned their Friday night yet, but he responded none the less, “I am sorry, Ma’am.”
“What was that? I could barely hear you?”
He again replied, but much clearer and with some conviction. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, Date Night should have been planned already.”
How she loved hearing him apologise to her. Such an affront to the male psyche, such effort for him to spit the words out, but also such a true example of his devotion to serving her. That tingle between her legs was starting again, and was becoming hard to ignore.
She took the few steps over to her dressing table.
“I see, well let’s just deal with that right now. Shall we?” Pulling out the dressing table stool slightly she sat herself down and patted her lap with the brush. “Over!”
He sprang from kneeling before her to laying across her lap like a well-trained soldier at drill. She paused for a moment to savour the scene. There he was over her knees like a naughty schoolboy, except slightly bigger and increasingly ripped. He had to balance heavily on his hands and toes to stay in position and she loved the way he struggled with it.
She drank in the sight of his ever-more toned butt, and her heart raced even faster as she slid her thumbs under the waistband and pulled his shorts down over those glorious glutes. Chiselled yet velvety smooth. A perfect canvas for her to paint a picture of discipline.
Raising the brush above her shoulder she delivered the first spank. Crack!
She felt his core harden, heard him gasp at the shock and felt his cock-cage push deeper between her thighs as he struggled to maintain the prescribed position. She continued to rain similar blows down on his sweet cheeks, making sure to whack each one equally, as she continued, “You have made excellent progress since you committed to this dynamic.” Whack! “So why do I find I have to,” Whack! “put you over my knee for the simplest of tasks?” Whack! “Anyone watching would think you enjoy being over my knee.” Whack!
His butt was now quite bright red and he was clearly having a struggle to maintain his composure.
“Now stand to attention!”
She stopped hitting and barked at him in a cut-glass tone.
He stood with his back to her, heels pushed together, arms tightly to his torso and straight down. His chest was out, the shoulder blades touching behind him. Eyes front. She drank in the view. Somehow this near-perfect example of masculinity was even better with a red arse. A delightful shade of rouge, all the better she felt for having been pained that way by her.
Pacing around him, authoritatively eye-balling every inch, she ran her fingers over his curves and creases at her leisure, stopping only when her hand reached his caged cock. Breaking the silence she asked, “Do you like it when I spank you, pet?”
There was a distinct jump from his member as it strained against its imprisoning tube, and her smile turned quizzical when James replied, “No, I don’t, Ma’am”.
“Really!” she exclaimed, adding, “then tell me why you find yourself over my lap so much?”
James' eyes remained level and staring into the middle distance, “Ma’am, I hate the spanking. But I love the fact that you care enough to spank me.”
“I see,” she replied. And it made sense. She herself was amused to find herself dishing out corporal punishment to her man. She knew other women would frown, or even laugh at her for doing so. But there was no question about the benefits it brought. He actually listened to her while he has over her knees, and remembered what she had said!
And she was certain the possibility of a reddened backside was behind his improved punctuality and his desire to get his chores done fast and early. In fact, she could think of a few of her friends' beaus who would benefit from some feminine discipline in their lives.
“Thank me, then,” she leaned into his personal space and whispered in his ear, becoming all the more aroused at how he stood firm and didn’t make even the slightest twitch.
“Ma’am, thank you for caring enough to discipline me when I need it. I hate it when it happens, but I love you so much for doing it.”
That was it, she could bear it no longer. Her heart was racing, her skin was flush and glowing almost as much as his pert butt was. Her clit was positively throbbing.
“Stand easy and kiss me then,” her command was firm, but her voice soft.
His body relaxed and his arms enveloped her as he stepped forwards and embraced her. The combination of the prickle of his stubble with the warm and wet sensation of his tongue entering her mouth was more intoxicating than even the finest of whiskies. She melted into him as he seduced her with the rhythmic probing of her mouth with his.
Without a word, he dropped again to his knees, and then all fours, and began kissing her feet. Fast, but soft little kisses intermingled with small licks like quick darts of his tongue. The feeling of her man on his knees worshipping her feet had her covered in goosebumps and reaching for the bedside table to steady herself.
Having covered her feet and toes in kisses he crawled around behind her and started doing the same up the backs of her legs, pausing to increase the size and pressure of his kisses at the back of each knee. She could feel the blood rushing to her sex, and it felt like her juices were cascading out of her like the condensation on a cold drink on a hot day.
"Pleasure me," she whispered as she drew the night dress up her thighs, exposing her pussy to him. He kissed up the front of each thigh, finishing with a firm kiss directly on her mound. Each one sending sparks shooting through her and causing her to recline on to the bed, her legs over the side and opened wide for the devouring that was to some.
His technique was exquisite, a perfect combination of firm licks and soft flicks, random at first but gaining a rhythm as he tuned in to her own hip thrusts and grinding. She grabbed at the sheets so that her knuckles went white as he began to lick, with a hard tongue, from just above her clit all the way down to her forbidden hole.
Up and down, firm and slow, so that she was moaning out loud like a shaman speaking in tongues. Her button was pulsing and radiating pleasure to the tips of her toes as he licked, drinking her nectar, and now the added sensation of a wet tongue gently probing her arse, tracing it and slightly invading it was almost too much to bear.
She wanted his cock, she needed it, but he wasn’t permitted to cum until Date Night. Through the fog of ecstasy in her head inspiration struck. “Oh God, stop,” she forced herself to say. James did as he was told and fell back onto his knees, his face glistening with her juices.
“Push-ups, now!” she ordered, but with a distinct crackle in her voice. He prostrated himself and began pushing out the exercise, as she frantically pulled her dressing table apart until she found the pack of condoms.
“Stop!, Stand up,” she said urgently, her hands and fingers shaking and fumbling with the silver heart locket around her neck that housed the key to his cock-cage. “I need your cock, but that isn’t permission for you to cum. Do you understand?”
She undid the padlock on the device and the tube encasing his penis almost shot across the room as his straining erection was fully released into the wild. She swallowed hard at the iron-like sight of it. Absolutely rigid, the veins pulsing with power and girth.
'Concentrate,' she thought to herself as she slid one and then two condoms over his shaft. Two condoms hopefully would be enough to aid the boy in keeping his seed in his balls. She stood up, looked him in the eyes with a gaze that would rival any lioness', and growled, “Now show me how much you love and worship me using just your body and that fuck-stick of mine you have between your legs.”
James wrapped his arms around her waist and guided her backwards on to the bed. He kissed her passionately whilst doing so and she could taste herself in his mouth and on his tongue, sending another wave of moisture to her pussy.
His engorged throbbing meat was so hard it still stretched her inside despite how wet it was down there. He rubbed the tip around her opening and slid his tool inside a little a few times causing her to buck and jump. Then he stared her straight in the eyes, smiled a white gleaming smile and rammed the whole length home. It was everything she could do the not swallow her tongue.
It was so ungiving, ploughing in and out of her, forging its way to the deepest point with every thrust, physically moving her so that the downwards thrusts connected with her cum-button and demanded pleasure to surge through her. Even with the condoms on, she could still feel the heat radiating off his cock and into her, and she felt a wave of hot lust building in her core, like the molten pressure of a volcano about to erupt.
He was in her missionary, holding her wrists down and above her head and driving himself in and out. If this was ‘Topping from the bottom’ then she might have to allow it more often, she thought to herself.
“James,” she shouted, “James, put me on top, now!” And with that, he rolled to one side, holding her firmly on his manhood as he did so, so that instantly she was now riding him. Her head had been swimming already in a sexually euphoric soup, but now as she sat backwards, driving his meat that little bit extra into her, stretching her still more, she could do nothing but obey her own inner auto-pilot.
It was blanking her mind of all thought, and only allowing the sweet sensations of their grinding to register, whilst grinding her hips hard and deliberately down on his shaft, sending her clit into another dimension and causing that well of molten lust lava to break to the surface.
She felt herself cumming in wave after wave. She could taste it, see it, feel it. Not that she tried to fight it, but she couldn’t move or control her own body. She felt a wet gush escape from between her legs, her whole body vibrated in a red-hot dance of grinding, shrieking, moaning and then, finally, exhaustion. Clarity slowly returned to her head, but her pelvis was still gently riding her cock and she slumped forwards on to his chest. It was everything to just breath.
Slowly she raised herself off his pole. It was an unusual feeling. Normally, he would have also cum and would now be soft, but he was still hard like granite. 'We’re going to need some ice,' she thought to herself as she rolled over on to her back next to him.
"Good boy," she said as she finally caught her breath and motioned to command him to stand. "Now show me your cock."
He stood next to the bed, his manhood at eye-level and perfectly rigid.
“I think you’d better go and ice that down so we can put you back in your cage, pet, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered and proceeded out the bedroom towards the kitchen. She again smiled as she surveyed his bum, deeper red now but still looking chastised. Several minutes passed and he returned by a nearly flaccid tool covered in a bag of ice.
“Good boy, now come here and let’s get that cage back on.” It wasn’t easy and she had to move fast. It was normal procedure for James to stand up straight with his hands on his head for her to fit his chastity device, but this time she had him hold the ice on his cock to keep it from growing and preventing the cage going on.
Snapping the lock shut she detected some resistance in James' face. “Thank me for locking you back up, James,” she said, staring up into his eyes. He grunted. “James!” she snapped.
“Thank you, Ma’am, for locking me back in my cage. I want to save myself for Date Night,” he finally said.
“Now, ask me for another week of chastity after Date Night,” she added again staring straight into his eyes.
Again he grunted, but eventually swallowed and said, “Please can we extend my chastity for a further week after Date Night, I want to try and go longer in the cage for you”.
“Ah, that’s sweet, pet,” she giggled, “but we’ll have to see. I think I may want you to fill me with your cum on Date Night and have you then clean me out with your mouth.” Again she giggled at the alarmed look in his eyes. She’d pushed his limits that little bit further, yet again.
“Go and turn on the shower to warm up for me, and I’d love an ice-cold glass of mineral water, please. Oh, and I think you should fetch the chocolate out the door of the fridge, too.”
"Yes Ma'am," he replied, and he turned on his heels obediently.
