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“Yes, My Lady.” I hurry to obey, stripping off my suit trousers, shirt and tie and leaving them in a pile by the door. I kneel and lower my head. I don’t see her approach, but suddenly the cool, ticklish touch of leather slides up my side. I feel the snap and sting of a riding crop on my shoulder.
“Shoulders back. Present yourself nicely for me.”
“Should we talk first? About the other day?”
“You will remain quiet until I ask you a question. You will obey me perfectly or this ends. Do you understand?”
She is angry. I probably deserve it. I should have called her before she had a chance to read the article, or after, to explain. I didn’t know how to explain and I worried that I’d only make it worse. She doesn’t deserve to be harried by the media, or for her kids to read some article by some scumbag pretending to be a journalist. What will the next one be like? I know the kind of things they write about women like her.
“Yes, My Lady.” I concentrate on my posture, put my shoulders back, and tense my stomach muscles, holding myself still.
She runs the crop up my side again, this time bringing the leather pad under my chin and directing me to look at her. “You may speak to tell me that you need to end the scene if this becomes too much. Tell me stop and this ends.”
“Yes, My Lady.” I don’t argue. I can’t imagine what she could do to make me tap out, but I’m not prepared to risk she stops it before it’s even begun.
She glares at me for a moment longer. “Fine.”
She whips the crop around and slaps my ass so hard I hear the snap and feel the bite of leather.
“Up. On the bed. Lie on your back.”
She follows me through the suite to the bed, a large king with a luxurious fabric headboard and dozens of throw pillows. I remove them one by one until another crack of the crop on my ass makes me jump.
“Too slow. I’m getting impatient.”
I push the rest of the cushions off with a swipe of my arm and crawl onto the bed. I might be nervous about what she’s about to make me suffer, but my cock has no such hesitations. He’s hard and throbbing already. As I lie on my back, it jumps, the foreskin pulling back a little more to reveal the crown already deeper in color and more swollen.
I suck in a breath when she trails the crop along my belly and over my nipples. My nipples are sensitive and she smiles cruelly when she discovers this, twisting the crop over them, teasing them into stiff peaks.
After a series of stinging slaps on my nipples, I’m sweating. I grit my teeth and try to stop my back from bowing off the bed. The sensation is too much and not enough at the same time. My poor cock is hungry for attention.
Mel trails the leather back down my belly and I think for a moment she’ll touch me where I want it. Take pity on me. I’m already begging her in my mind. She still hasn’t laid a finger on me. All she’s doing is teasing me with the fucking toy.
I have a heartstopping moment where she lowers the crop so the leather grazes my aching balls. She lifts it quickly and I brace to feel the punishing smack. It never comes.
I open my eyes to find her watching me.
In a huff, I let out the breath caught in my chest.
“Stay there.” She walks to the nightstand and retrieves a little black bag. I watch carefully to see what new toy she wants to use on me. My cock jumps in anticipation. I’m surprised when she pulls out a clear fleshlight. Then it hits me. She still isn’t going to touch me.
I could sob, though I bite it back, when she applies a liberal squirt of lube to the toy and brings it down over my shaft.
It feels good. Of course it does, but it’s not her. It’s not her mouth or her pussy, and the scent of heaven that’s teasing my nostrils means I can hardly think about anything else. Will she at least give me a taste?
Instead of taking her position on my chest as she did last time we played like this, she stands between my legs. Bracing one hand on the bed, she works the fleshlight over my cock slowly while glaring at me, daring me to speak. Daring me to end the scene.
I press my lips together, holding her gaze. I’m not going to break so easily. If I’m good, maybe she’ll give me a reward. Maybe that’s what all this is leading to. I’ll be good. Surely, she’ll let me lick that sweet little cunt if I’m good.
God it’s hard, though. She moves slowly, deliberately, never giving me the speed and friction I need to come. It feels only good enough to be torment and not nearly good enough to let me finish. All she’s doing is keeping me hard.
I want to beg her to touch me. Really touch me. Fondle my balls or stroke my belly. Take the damn toy off my cock and replace it with her fist. I long to feel her soft hands on me, her wet mouth. But she doesn’t and I can’t ask her.
A low moan erupts from me before I can hold it back.
“Are you going to come for me?”
I shake my head.
