Tags: NSFW, dominance, punishment
One thing about her is that she loved having me finish in her mouth; she saw it as a way to show, to prove, how much she wanted to be there to me, to please me. Proof of just how much she could make me happy. She saw it as her duty and her pleasure, and always moaned when I started shivering, knowing what was about to happen.
She was at my house, completely naked as I stood before her, fully clothed. She loved the power dynamic that presented, reminding her that I was in total control. I decided, with a wry smile, to give her a challenge this time.
“Make me cum, but you can only use your mouth.” Without hesitation she fell to her knees, hard against the floor. She put her hands on my ass, both to keep them dutifully away from my cock and to encourage me to thrust. She had a small mouth and sometimes my thrusting was a bit vigorous for her. That time, she seemed to welcome it, eager to meet the task at hand.
Normally she liked me to put my hand on the back of her head, to wrap my fingers in her golden tresses, to guide (or force) her, but this time I was letting her do everything.
At one point she pulled back and licked me up and down, a slow tease up my shaft from the base to the head, her eyes closed in pleasure. I snatched her hand in a firm grip, meeting her surprised expression with a stern one of my own. “I said only your mouth,” I admonished, in a tone that brokered no possible dissent.
She nodded apologetically and went right back to it, with increased enthusiasm.
We ended up moving to the living room, where the hardwood was uncomfortable on her knees, encouraging her to continue trying as effectively as possible, both to please me and to end her own growing pain.
At one point in her enthusiasm she pulled back and gave me another lick. Halfway through however her eyes went wide and she looked up at me, a tiny prey animal caught by a predator. I shook my head slowly but nevertheless guided her lips back to my hot flesh. “Continue.”
She knew punishment was in store, but not what form it would take. I could smell the nervous excitement radiating off her, out of her.
As I felt myself getting closer, I asked if she were ready for her punishment. She nodded, her mouth still full, and I wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled her bodily to her feet, stopping only to cum all over her chest, painting her breasts.
She whined and pouted, denied her favorite treat, but then I gave her a little pat on the cheek and said “now get dressed.”
She started to wipe the cum off her breasts so she could taste it. “No,” I stopped her. “Get. Dressed.”
She dutifully got dressed, feeling my cum soak into her bra, having been denied the pleasure of swallowing or licking it up. She gave me a small pout before I pushed her out the door, knowing she had to go directly to work.
All through her shift I got texts about how she “could still feel [me] on her chest” and that she couldn’t believe she was serving customers while covered in my cum, feeling it every time she moved.
To her credit, she never disobeyed me ever again.
