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He nods adamantly. “If it pleases you, Mistress.”
I offer him my own patented smirk. “It pleases me immensely.”
I step back and don’t waste time before I begin raining down thwack after hard thwack against his shoulders and upper back. The sounds of leather hitting skin, and his constant release of guttural groans echo around the room like the most obscene music.
Only when my arm grows tired, and his voice grows hoarse do I stop. I drop the crop like a comedian dropping their mic as I take in my handiwork.
With a softer touch, I frame each bit of raised skin, most of his body is littered with welts in different shades of red. Some will disappear, others will bruise, giving him something to remember me by. I move my mouth in the wake of my fingers. Goosebumps trail his skin with every part I touch with my tongue.
“How are you feeling, slave?”
He leans his head against the cross in obvious exhaustion. “I feel amazing, Mistress.”
I nod against his back. “Do you still require punishment? Or perhaps you’d prefer to be owned?”
Not every male sub wants to be possessed, or in layman's terms, pegged by his Domme. I get the feeling that he’s one of them, but I would never assume.
He shivers at my question. “Please…” he begs. “Please, possess me, Mistress.”
I press a firm kiss between his shoulder blades before I reach for his bindings. He slumps, barely managing to keep his feet under him, but follows me to a spanking bench.
I pat the sleek, black leather-wrapped furniture fondly. “Hop on up.”
He’s sluggish, but still manages just fine until he’s straddling the bench so his bottom half hangs free with his knees cradled at a lower level. He turns his head to the side, so his cheek is cushioned against the headrest to watch me.
“Do you need to be tied down?”
A quick shake of his head. “No, Mistress.”
He watches as if possessed as I undo my harness and remove it before I reach behind my neck to grasp the zipper and slowly pull it down to the crack of my ass. It takes a bit of finagling to work the bottom half over my full hips and ass before the fabric floats to the ground, leaving me in a matching black lace bra and thong. My sheer black thigh highs are attached to matching garters to complete the look.
I take in his gaping mouth and drowsy gaze. “Like what you see, cowboy?”
He glances up from my tits almost overflowing the sheer cups of my demi-bra.
“I do, very much, Mistress.”
I lean down giving him a better view before I press a firm, quick kiss against his slack mouth.
When I pull away, he lunges toward me until I hold him back with a firm grip around his throat.
“Don’t forget your place, whore.”
He shudders. “I apologize, Mistress.”
I consider denying him the treat of my strap-on cock until I study his abused back.
“I suppose I’ll forgive you this once. Do it again, and this ends.”
He jerks a nod. “It won’t happen again, Mistress.”
I loosen my grip and cup his cheek. “Good boy.”
I return to my chest of goodies and retrieve my strap-on harness and two dildos. I hold each phallus up for his perusal, not surprised when he picks the bigger one.
“You’re a size queen, I see.” I chuckle as an apparent blush travels from the tops of the cheeks on his face and down to his already glowing ass.
He watches aptly as I put on the harness and the eight-inch, girthy dildo. Putting it on feels both strange and empowering. It makes me stand up a bit straighter, and walk a bit taller.
