Plaything Ch. 02

"Mmm, that's it." I grind just a little deeper against your mouth, watching your hand stroke yourself slick with me. "Are you have a good time using my toy?"

You pause mid-stroke, eyes flicking up like you're caught, lips still wet. "I--I needed to be ready for you."

I smile, slow and dangerous. "You're always ready for me."

You groan into my pussy again, and that vibration makes my thighs shake. "That's it, baby. Lick up every drop you made me spill." My hips roll slow and deliberate on your face as I watch your free hand greedily slide back between your legs, stroking in rhythm.

But I sit back just enough to break contact. You chase the taste like you're starving.

"Ah ah," I say, eyes flashing. "You don't get to make the rules." I slide down off the couch and kneel between your legs, one hand wrapping around your cock, still slick from where you rubbed me all over it. "Look at you. Hard, needy, dripping."

You're panting as I stroke you once, slow and possessive. "My toy's been busy, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am." You can barely get the words out.

"I want to see you fall apart for me." I rise to my feet, still watching your eyes like a challenge. "Sit back. Keep your hands on the floor."

You obey instantly, planting your hands behind you, cock standing proud and ready for me.

I grab the base, line you up, and lower down onto you slowly, letting out a soft gasp as you fill me. "Oh, fuck yes," I moan, riding you in a tight grind. "You feel that? That's how good it is when I use what's mine."

You groan, eyes locked on where I'm taking you in over and over. "God, baby--please--"

I cut you off with a sharp slap to your thigh. "Quiet." My eyes glitter. "You speak when I let you."

You shudder under me, and I roll my hips just a little faster. "You like when I ride you like this? When you can't touch me, can't even help? Just sit there while I use you?"

"Y-yes--ma'am--"

My fingers catch your throat beneath your jaw and my eyes sear into you, "Did I say you could speak yet?"

You grit your teeth, holding back a moan.

"Good." I lean in just enough so my breasts brush your chest, breath hot against your lips. "You're going to sit there and feel how tight I am. How wet I am. And you're going to take it until I say otherwise."

Your fingers curl into the carpet, trying not to buck up into me. "You look so fucking good," I breathe, biting my lower lip. "All mine. All obedient. All cock."

I ride you harder now, thighs slapping against yours, the heat between us turning molten. "You love this, don't you? Being used like this. Knowing I get to come whenever I want--but you don't even get to ask."

You whimper beneath me, nearly trembling.

"Touch me," I command, grabbing your wrists and dragging them to my waist. "Now you can help. But if you try to come without permission--"

"I won't," you pant. "I swear I won't. I want to be good for you."

I moan, loud and needy, grinding down harder as your hands steady me. "That's it. Fuck. Just like that. You feel so fucking good inside me."

Your grip on my hips tightens as I start to bounce, breath hitching every time I bottom out. "Fuck--baby--you're soaking me--"

"You haven't even felt the half of it yet," I pant. "But you will. Because you're not coming until I say."

I shift my angle and my breath punches out of me in a sharp gasp. "Right there--fuck--right there."

You nod helplessly, wide-eyed and reverent, as I ride your cock harder, faster, wetter.

"Don't you dare stop." My nails rake down your chest. "I'm gonna fucking come all over you again--and you're gonna thank me for the mess."

Your voice breaks as you beg, "Please, please let me feel it."

"Oh, you will," I promise darkly. "You're going to feel every drop as it runs down your cock and pools in your lap."

My back arches, and I cry out as the climax rips through me--sharp and relentless. I grind into you with abandon, waves pulsing around you, dripping down your thighs, soaking everything.

"Fuck--yes--yes--YES!" I collapse forward into your neck, hips still twitching against you. "God, you make me come so hard."

You're panting, every muscle straining not to explode.

I smile against your skin. "You did good. You stayed still. You let me take what I needed."

Your voice is hoarse. "Can I--can I finish?"

I shake my head. "Not yet. I've got one more thing in mind first."

I slide off you slowly, biting my lip at the slick sound of separation, and give your cock a teasing glance. "On your knees, baby. Face the couch."

You move fast, eager and obedient.

I bend to whisper behind your ear as I strap on the harness. "Your turn to take what I give you."

I strap in behind you, slow and deliberate. You're kneeling now, hands braced on the couch cushions, chest heaving. Still hard. Still aching. Still so damn obedient.

I grab a pillow and toss it onto the seat in front of you. "Rest your chest there. I want you relaxed. Open. Ready."

You adjust without a word, hips tilted up perfectly. I press a palm to the small of your back and hum in approval. "God, look at you. Back arched, ass up, cock swinging." I run the head of the dildo down the crease of your cheeks, teasing, slicking it with my own cum. "You're perfect like this. Just waiting for me to fuck the begging right out of you."

You whimper, pressing your hips back slightly. I slap your ass with a pop.

"Did I say move?"

You freeze.

"Good boy."

The weight shifts on the couch as I step away for a moment, and you shift like you miss the heat of me behind you.

"Patience," I say. You wait.

I pop the cap on the lube, and the sound alone makes your breath hitch. I coat the dildo thoroughly, slick and dripping.

I return behind you, the strap-on secured at my hips, lubed and gleaming. You're on your knees now, thighs spread, cheek pressed to the couch cushion, cock heavy between your legs. Waiting.

I pop the cap on the bottle again and let you hear it. Click. The noise making you wriggle in anticipation.

"Keep still," I say. "You don't want me to miss."

You nod, jaw tight.

I slick my fingers, generously, before pressing the first one to your hole--firm, deliberate, no pretense of softness.

"Relax," I order. "Push out. You know what to do."

You do. You breathe deep and push just enough, and I press in.

The stretch is immediate. You groan--low and guttural--as I work my finger in to the knuckle, circling and twisting slowly.

"Fuck--"

"You're tight tonight," I smirk. "Tighter than last time."

"Been waiting--" you manage. "All week."

I hum, dragging the tip of my finger just right. "I can tell."

I add more lube--so much it drips--and a second finger follows. This time you gasp. Not from pain. From the stretch. The pressure. The weight of what's coming.

"You wanted to be opened up, baby?" My voice is low now, thick with heat. "This is what that takes."

You nod into the cushion, breath shaking as I scissor and twist, loosening you deliberately, knowing exactly where to touch. Every time I curl my fingers just right, your cock jumps--leaking onto the couch beneath you.

I finally pull my fingers out, slow and slick. You whimper at the loss.

Then I press the head of the strap-on to your entrance--cool, solid, and unyielding.

"You ready for me?" I ask.

"Yes," you choke out. "God, yes--please--fuck me."

"I'll give you what you want," I murmur, both hands gripping your hips. "But you're going to feel every inch."

And then I push.

Not fast. Not all at once. Just enough to split you open.

You groan, loud, body trembling under the pressure. "Fuck--"

"That's it." I hold steady, buried just past the head. "You feel that stretch, baby? That fullness? That's me taking you apart."

You nod wildly, hips jerking--but I hold you still.

"You don't move," I growl. "You take it. You let me give it to you."

"Yes, ma'am," you pant, barely able to breathe.

I press deeper, inch by inch, letting you feel the slide--not soft, but controlled. It burns. It stretches. It dominates.

When I bottom out, hips flush to yours, you're already dripping, body quivering with tension.

"Good boy," I murmur. "You're taking me so well."

You whimper.

I pull back halfway, then slam back in.

You cry out, high and raw.

"You wanted this, remember?" I snap my hips again. "You begged me for it."

"Yes--fuck yes--thank you--"

"Say it like you mean it."

"Thank you for fucking me. Thank you for ruining me."

I grin, dark and wicked. "We're just getting started."

I start to thrust--deeper, faster, relentless now. The rhythm is punishing, slick and loud and hot. Every time I bottom out, your cock twitches untouched.

"You're going to come without even being touched," I pant. "Like the perfect little fucktoy you are."

"Please," you gasp. "Please let me--please, I need to--"

"You don't need anything," I growl. "You obey."

You're shaking beneath me now, hands clenching the couch cushions, back arching with every thrust.

"I can't--I can't take it--"

"You can. You will." My fingers dig into your hips. "Because your cock? Your pleasure? That belongs to me."

"Yes--yes ma'am--please--please--let me come--please--"

I lean down, breath hot against your ear. "Come."

You break instantly.

Your body convulses, a desperate cry leaving your throat as you spill across the cushion, cock untouched, spasming as I fuck you through it. You sob into the pillow, shaking and spent--but I don't stop right away. I slow the rhythm, let you feel every inch, overstimulated and owned.

"Good boy," I murmur. "Look at you. Coming on command. Hands-free."

You're gasping, body wrecked, forehead to the couch.

I stroke your back once and slowly slide out.

"Still with me?"

You nod--barely.

I smile. "I'm not done with you yet."

You're still panting, wrecked and dripping, forehead to the couch. I step away to unbuckle the harness, letting it drop heavy to the floor. I grab the toy I stashed earlier--small, curved, and humming quietly in my hand.

By the time I return, you're still exactly where I left you. Kneeling. Waiting.

I settle onto the couch, legs spread, lace clinging to my thighs, and I tilt your chin up with my fingers.

"You've been such a good boy," I murmur. "Now you're going to make me come."

"Yes, ma'am," you whisper.

"Crawl."

You move instantly, closing the distance between us. I guide your head between my legs and hand you the toy.

"You know how I like it."

You turn it on and press the tip gently to my clit.

I gasp--sharp and involuntary. "Fuck--yes--right there."

Your other hand trails between my folds, slow and deliberate before slipping a single finger inside. I moan, hips lifting into the contact.

"God, yes--don't stop."

You add a second finger, curling just right, and my breath stutters.

"You're still soaked," you murmur. "Still dripping from fucking me."

"Then make a mess," I pant. "Make me scream for it."

You fuck me with your fingers, deep and purposeful, toy still circling my clit in steady pressure. My head tips back, jaw slack, moans spilling out like I've already forgotten how to hold power.

"Good girl," you whisper, voice darker now. "Let it take you."

I jolt as the first orgasm slams into me--sudden and fast and blinding. I cry out, hips bucking, thighs trembling around your face.

But you don't stop.

"Wait--fuck--wait--"

"No."

Your fingers keep fucking me. The toy never leaves my clit. You grab my thigh to keep me still, eyes fixed on my face as I writhe.

"You had your control," you murmur. "Now it's my turn to push you through it."

"I--can't--" My hands claw at the couch.

But you're already dragging me into another orgasm--sharper, meaner, rolling through my entire body. I cry out again, louder this time, and you catch it in your mouth, kissing the inside of my thigh like you're worshiping every tremor.

You finally pull the toy away, but not for long. You reset it, lower, slower--just enough to tease. I jerk under the touch, my body hypersensitive.

"Oh fuck, no," I breathe.

"Oh, yes." You press a kiss to my inner thigh. "One more. Give it to me."

I sob and shake and grip your hair as the toy circles again--just enough. My body is on fire. Every nerve lit.

When it hits, it's too much.

I scream--raw and broken--and collapse into the cushions, chest heaving, slick everywhere, thighs twitching uncontrollably as the last orgasm tears through me.

I barely register the moment you pull the toy away and crawl up beside me. Your arms wrap around me immediately. You kiss my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth.

"Too much?" you whisper, brushing hair from my cheek.

"No," I manage, breath catching. "Perfect."

You wrap your arms around me and pull me into your chest. "You gave me everything," you murmur. "I just took care of it."

I bury my face in your neck, still trembling, still floating.

"I've got you now," you say again, this time quieter. "And I'm not going anywhere."