I knock on the door with my heart up my throat… what am I really doing here? Oh god! I tremble for a second when I set my eyes on him as he opens the door. He doesn’t say anything, he just welcomes me in with a gesture and that devilish grin stretched to the side. I get lured by his charm and without even realizing it, I find myself a few steps inside. Another tremor makes its way up my spine when I hear the door closing behind me. Then the click from the lock breaks an unfamiliar feeling inside of me, it’s a mix of fear and… excitement… maybe. Oh crap! I hear his steps behind me, coming closer and closer. I can’t move. I’m frozen to the ground. I dare to look a bit to the side, without turning my body, just a small tilt of my head, just to notice how close he is, standing right behind me with his hands in his pockets.
‘I’m glad you came.’ He growls to my ear in a deep voice… that damn voice!… touching me with nothing but the warmth of his breath.
This is it! I have no escape now, I brought myself to the devil’s den all by myself. I fear his rigid touch and I crave it at the same time. But just as casually as he welcomed me in, he makes his way around me and makes himself comfortable in the armchair a few good steps in front of me, one leg flexed, the other one stretched. He grabs his drink, measuring me in a long look from head to toe. This time I can’t read his expression. He’s cold and neutral. I don’t trust myself to accurately tell how fast the time is passing right now, but it sure seems like too long, and that, along with the silence, is making my discomfort grow thick.
‘Strip.’ He commands.
I almost choke. On my breath… or dry mouth… I don’t know. I try to form my words and ask… but ask what?
‘Bare skin, princess. Come on.’ He raises his tone a bit.
I should be annoyed by the directness of his request, the lack of effort with which expects me to expose, but I’m a puppet to that voice. I bend down to reach my shoe and undo the strip, but he interrupts me:
‘Not the heels. You will be needing those.’
I straighten up like I’m hypnotized and I peel my dress down from my shoulders and I let it fall on the floor. His chest expands under a deep breath, watching me, then his eyes set on mine and his brows arch up cockily. He doesn’t need to say anything this time, I roll my underwear down all by myself.
‘Good girl!’ His grin expands. ‘Now kneel, princess.’
Just before I get down on my knees, he reaches out behind me for a pillow that he then pushes with his foot to slide on the floor all the way up to me.
‘You’ll be needing that.’
Demeaning. Nonetheless, a caring gesture that pushes me to convince myself that this is what I want.
A million thoughts cross my mind when I see him getting up. Oh god! Oh shit! Oh crap! He’s coming to me! And I’m sitting here. Petrified! Down on my knees! NAKED! My eyes pinned to the floor out of discomfort, perhaps embarrassment… I don’t know anymore.
‘Look at me.’ His deep voice cuts through my blurred mind, and again, I submit to it.
‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’
I notice his hands are still in his pockets as I raise my eyes to meet his, and that weird feeling of safety forces me to nod my head ‘yes’. His devilish grin widens once again. This time I let myself be driven by the heat of the moment and I reach for his belt. He takes a step back.
‘No hands, princess.’ He commands in a more decisive tone now.
I can feel my eyes widening as I still look up to him, my face starting to burn. His grin breaks wider, his teeth showing a bit, viciously, like he’s enjoying where he’s got me. He unbuckles his belt and pulls it out, bends it into half, and stretches it into a slap right in front of me. He’s got me trembling again, that’s for sure!
‘I’ll give you a free pass this time… for your hands, I mean…’ he assures me but it sounds like a threat. ‘…because I trust you will behave.’
I nod in approval by impulse. Anything that keeps him from restraining my hands.
‘Good. Now close your fists over your heels and hold on tight.’
I do as he commands, with trembling hands and my heart back up my throat trying to swallow it down empty. He unbuttons, unzips, and oh god! He frees his cock. I gasp. He’s huge! Bigger than I’ve imagined it.
The rush! The fear! The thrill!
I block staring at it for a few moments, at his size, at his firm grip around it. I don’t know what’s happening to me!
His other hand combs through my hair at the side of my head in a soft brush, but closes at the back of my head in a grip that feels at least as firm as the one around his cock. I break from staring and I switch my sight between his pride and his eyes a few times, each time when looking down, finding him closer to me.
He strokes his length right in my face, brushing his tip to my lips. I try to pull back a little, just to reassure myself that I can. But I can’t. And my pulse raises, my heart pounds, my lips are… sealed, so I tighten my fists harder on my heels.
‘Open, princess.’ He growls in demand, smudging my lipstick with his head pressed to my mouth.
And I do. I open my mouth and I take him in. I take his cock in, pressed to my tongue, sliding in. I look up at him and he looks down at me. He owns me. In this particular moment, he owns me.
‘You know what’s coming.’ He’s not asking, he’s stating, still grinding his under-head to my tongue, in and out, short, back and forth, not too deep, not yet. I frown. I know. I try to pull back again, but he keeps me in place and pushes his length deeper. And deeper. And deeper. Until I gag, then I choke. I can’t breathe. My stomach tenses hard. I can feel my eyes getting red and wet, I squeeze, then shut hard, my tears rolling down my cheeks, my spit slipping through the seal of my lips to his thickness. I can’t even hold that. He gives a couple of short pushes to the depth of my throat then he pulls away, but not all the way out, his head still rests in my mouth.
I open my eyes and I look up. His eyes are glowing, as mine are probably shining through the tears. An unsettling feeling takes over me. It’s not even the physical discomfort that I experienced, but the fact that I must be a mess. My lipstick smudged, my eyeliner dripped, my eyes red, spit all around my mouth… fuck!…
I want this to end!
I want him to stop!
This is humiliating!
I make another attempt to free myself, but I still can’t. He still won’t let me. But one of his hands breaks from the back of my head… I haven’t even noticed when he freed his cock from his grip and anchored it in my hair… but now he’s brushing over my cheek with his thumb, through my dripped mix of mascara and eyeliner.
‘Beautiful.’ He growls.
One word. One word to shuffle down my senses a few layers deep to bring me to light… or maybe darkness. I didn’t even realize until I feel a chill draft of air between my legs, that I’m dripping wet.
‘Do you want me to stop?’
I shake my head left and right, through his grip now loosened, with his cock still in my mouth, rubbing my lips to his length.
I hold on to my dear heels like my life depends on it, his fist closes firm again, I take one deep breath to my lungs, and he throbs back deep.
I gag.
I choke.
I tense.
Again. And Again. And again.
Then he holds.
Then I feel his seed filling me, feeding ME!