Saturday, February 2, 2013

Wonder Boy and Mistress Electric Go To Target



They were sitting at the table, eating breakfast.  He was eating a bowl of healthy bran cereal and watching her dunk a cake donut into her second cup of coffee.  He read all the health articles on Google Reader and prided himself on his regiment. And he told her so. He began by reciting the sugars in your average donut and the detrimental effects to your system of eating too much sugar, especially to a woman her age.  He continued talking, quite pleased with himself, when he noticed it: the trigger.  One moment she was there, looking at him patiently, thoughtfully chewing. The next, the air changed, her eyes darkened, and he knew it had… triggered.  He spoke more rapidly, backtracking, trying to find the spot where he went wrong, but knew, deep in his heart, that there was no going back.  He continued to babble until she put her hand over his mouth and said: "Get dressed. I need to go to Target."

Then he was pushing the cart behind her through Target, maintaining a distance of two feet, as she had told him to do.  He concentrated intently on the back of her head. The cake donut was stuffed in his mouth. He was trying hard not to salivate or swallow, his face on fire knowing he was being stared at, feeling people give him a second look.  Some even had tried to be funny: “Hey, that must be a nice donut you got there."  To which she would stop and reply: “Why, yes, it is a nice donut I have there, thank you very much for noticing."  The look of puzzlement and confusion would have made him laugh under normal circumstances, but, since meeting her, nothing was normal.  She didn't have to tell him not to eat the donut or remove it from his mouth; he was smart enough to figure that part out.  Why he hadn't been smart enough to not get himself in this predicament to begin with was something he'd have to work out later.

She was reading the back of shampoo bottles, trying to remember which one would give her cancer, when her brow arched, hearing a soft "plop.”  She turned, looked down, and blinked.  On the floor was half a cake donut.  Slowly her eyes moved upwards ‘til they met the boy's.  The look of terror and dismay written on his face was pleasing. She dropped the bottle of shampoo in the cart and simply said: "Eat it.”  He chewed and swallowed the donut remaining in his mouth, and looked at her.  She shook her head, and looked down.  He sighed, bent over, picked up the other half off the floor. With a grimace, he shoved it in his mouth and ate it.

They were at a party.  She was wearing leather pants, the highest, sharpest pair of heels he had ever seen, and those damn pieces of electrical tape over her nipples.  He wanted to rip them off with his teeth.  He was standing in the kitchen naked while she rummaged in a Target shopping bag.  She was saying that everyone was supposed to bring a dish to eat and she needed to get hers ready.

"Do be a good girl and get the serving plate ready for me."  The girl she was speaking to nodded and reached for him, wrapping her hand around his cock and stroking it.  She was smiling at him, her eyes twinkling, and he wondered what this had to do with serving platters. She was pretty, soft in all the right places.  He didn't need much help. He was hard immediately.  He didn't understand any of this until he felt the first Ettenman's chocolate donut slide down the length of his cock.  A second and third one followed quickly.

She stood back and admired her handiwork.  Smacking him on the ass, hard, she ordered him through the door.

"Go see if anyone is hungry, boy, and those donuts had better not fall on the floor."

He walked through the doorway, and wanted to die.  The room was crowded.  A few looked at him as he walked around, one man shaking his head no and telling him to move along.  He heard a "Stop!"  He stopped, and,  moving in front of him, were two men.  One was dressed in some sort of leather cat suit, with high heeled leather boots with neon pink lacings.  The other had on a pair of leather hot pants and combat boots.  The first nudged the smaller man and said:  "Get Daddy a donut. I’m hungry.”  He blinked, not understanding why the smaller man was kneeling until he saw that his hands were handcuffed behind his back.....

He could hear her laughter from across the room.

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