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“Yes ma’am.”
“Mistress,” she says. “You call me mistress.”
“Yes, mistress,” I say.
She is nearly standing on top of me, her tits pressing up against my chest. We are face to face, almost exactly the same height. She eyes me up and down, inspecting me like a piece of meat.
“So, you like a woman who takes charge, do you?” she says.
I nod my head and lick my lips. I don’t trust myself to speak. As it is I can hardly breathe my adrenalin is flowing so fast.
“Then you got the right girl,” she says. “Because there’s nothing I like better than to be in control of my man. Especially a wanna-be tough guy like you. I bet you boss people around all day, don’t you? Always getting everyone to do whatever you want, whenever you want it.”
“Something like that.”
“Well not tonight, mister. Tonight you’re my toy. My little boy toy. You got that?”
“Yes mistress.”
“Damn right you do,” she says. And then she put her hands on my chest and shoves, pushing me backwards. I stumble back a few steps but she’s already on top of me, pushing me again, more gently this time, moving with me, backing me up until my butt is touching the wall.
She runs her hand up and down my chest, pressing up against me with hips, her mouth mere centim
eters from mine, her eyes boring into me with deadly seriousness.
“You like that, don’t you,” she says. It’s not a question but a statement of fact. “You like me pushing you around, putting my hands wherever I want, not even asking for permission.”
I swallow and nod my head.
“What about this?” she says, dropping her hand down to my cock and grabbing it. “You like this too?”
“Yes.”
She squeezes my cock tighter, making me gasp. “Yes, what?” she asks sharply.
“Yes, mistress.”
“That’s better,” she says. And then she kneels down in front of me and starts rubbing my hard cock. It’s trapped against my pants, pushing into the material with nowhere to go but still she rubs it some more, making it harder and harder still, smiling at my discomfort. But still she rubs. I groan lightly. She giggles and rubs some more. I groan again, louder this time.
“Shut up and take it,” she says in a harsh voice. “Don’t make another fucking sound until I tell you to.”
“Yes mistress,” I say.
She smacks my balls. I wince in pain.
“Did I tell you to speak?”
I shake my head no.
“That’s a good boy,” she says. “And just for that you’re going to get rewarded.”
She undoes my zipper, sticks her hand inside my pants. She caresses my cock, slowly playing her finger up and down the shaft. It’s still folded up against my pants, threatening to poke a hole in the material.
When she finally unfolds my cock it pops out of the open zipper like a jack-in-the-box. She places her palm under it as if weighing it.
“Not bad,” she says. “Not bad at all.”
She spits on my cock and begins to stroke it. She looks up at me. “Do you want me to suck it?” she says, still stroking as she talks.
