Breakfast With Miss B. By Anonymous

Breakfast with Miss B .. anonymous

He's curious about my boy. The one in the room; sleeping while my mind ticks away and my avatar roams, seeking some peace. This one has no interest in my peace, only his own slavishly eroticised mind, as he undoubtedly masturbates furiously in his office chair.

"Do you have a dungeon Miss?" his fingers pant

The truth is My boy sleeps his own room, comfortable and safe. Maybe he would prefer more severity but for now I must dream of his comfort at night to be ready to make him uncomfortable in the day. The truth is I cannot sleep knowing he is on a concrete floor overnight. When I wake him by straddling him he smiles and awaits me, his cock erect though he knows it will be ignored. He does not mind, his mind is on my presence and my will. I bring the sheet up over his nose and mouth and hold it there, so only his eyes are out of the bed. After a few minutes of wrapping him this way and that with the cotton sheet I have him bring me tea and breakfast. He delights in the task and tries to run, I tell him to walk and inhale his scent secretly when he is gone. By the time he returns I am wet and do not want the food. He kneels at the foot of the bed as I eat it slowly anyway.

"Do you keep your boys in a cage Miss?" he asks.

I pull out a hair tie from my robe pocket and tell him to come kneel on the bed. I secure the tie once, twice around his cock, which is just beginning to sit up and take notice, not that inspired by my breakfast-eating. It sits firmly on the base of his cock, and I pull out another, then another, till half his cock is swallowed by the elastic. "Behind" - I say and his hands snap behind his back. I have him sit there, legs parted and body up, working his thighs and butt, as I drink my tea. His cock grows in the silence and as if to run ahead of him to do my will. It is constricted and more red than usual but able to function....a worthy experiment.

"Miss may I ask if you have equipment in your home, for restraining your boys?"

What I have is pegs, rubber bands, sleep masks, feathers, fabric, plastic bags, cutlery, lead-tipped pencils, duct tape, sellotape, jewellery, a pair of handcuffs that I rarely use.......and my imagination and my moods. I remove my robe and wrap the bedsheet around myself. He knows enough to be silent. I part the sheet and pull down my panties, taking them off. taking scissors from the side drawer i snip the panties at the side and place the scissors between us. His eyes hold mine. I wrap the panties around his mouth, he parts it to take them in, and I tie them behind his head. They are warm, musty and damp. "sit" I say and he lowers his thighs to his heels. Changing my mind I tell him to kneel on the floor in the same pose. I take the waist tie from my discarded robe and secure his hands and feet with it, a soft hog-tie. He tastes my essence from my panties and his cock is at full extension, the hair ties have spread a little and flesh bulges somewhat between each wrap. My vulva is swollen with the restraint....I stand in the uncertainty of what I want - his cock in me, for him to manipulate it, for me to lick the tip of it, his tongue performing as I command, to whip him with that robe tie....another cup of tea? His eyes await me and we gaze.

"Do you often have subs come to your rl house MIss, how I would love to take that place?"

Do I want to bring this strange questioning and desperate little boy into my home? Why I do not believe so. To be under the pressure of HIS desire, risk seeing that his belly hits the floor when He is on hands and knees, his slavish eyes demanding of me, his mouth NEVER SHUTTING UP, his cock leaking onto my carpet. The boy, no, the MAN on the floor I have known for years, and for years he has loved me, been present for me, awaited my will, asked nothing for himself except on one or two truly awful occasions in his life, been trustworthy and honest, fulfilled my highest and lowest dreams. The boy on the ground has earned his place and is somethiing the inquisitor is not - a submissive man.

I release the tie on his hands and i lay on the bed sideways, my legs off the edge. My sex is open and exposed to him as he sits on the ground before me, and it is wet and pulsing. I hold the sheet coyly at my breasts and the rest of it is open. I place my feet on his thighs and push down then caterpillar them up his legs, torso, until they reach his shoulders where I press and press. I kick a little and tell him to grip my hips. He firmly grips my hips and I tell him to place his nose on my sex. He nose-dives in and his nose wets. He breathes in and out with his nose, the warm air thrilling my vulva. Much as I want him to lick me his restraint is just as important.

Do you keep your boy in chastity Miss?

His nose moves against my vulva, my anus, my clit - his mouth restricted by the lace and cotton. I grab the scissors and cut off his gag in favour of my will. I allow him to pump the available part of his cock while he fucks me with his tongue. I count down and when I reach stop he knows he cannot touch himself but continue just to lick me

10

9

8

7

SIX

5

4

3

TWOOOOO

1

STOP

He snaps his hands behind his back and groans as he licks my vulva and pushes his tongue inside me. I tell him to stop his tongue-work at the count of 10 and count down again, half crazed.

5....4......3.......2........1........STOP

I pick up the scissors......

the rest, what happens in that room, is private.

And to the boy on the ground, a grubby cheap avatar with a ripped skin and busy hands, blocking my way and nosing in with his questions, I have this to say -

"no, no, no-no, no, no-no-no, no........no, no-no NO"