Even When She's Asleep by Jamesbond

Even when She's asleep.

by jamesbond Trenchmouth

She lets me drive her BMW .Well,kind of.
I sit behind the wheel,but it's really She who drives.
She sits in the back seat,Her long legs stretched  languidly across the plush leather.She has attached a  leash to the cock ring i am ordered to wear,the leash snaking its way from Her hand to my perpetually rigid cock,exposed and throbbing between the buttons of my open fly.
I sit behind the wheel,steering , using the gas pedal,glancing at the instrument panel,stopping and starting in the traffic,keping an eye on the road.
But it's really She who drives.
Sometimes She will use her cellphone and talk to Her friends,largely ignoring me except for the odd tug on the leash,amusing Herself as i wince quietly at the cock ring pinching my erect penis.
When a small pool of precum dapples the head of my  mercilessly teased cock,i see Her in the rear view mirror covering the mouthpiece of her phone with Her hand while She says to me " if you get any on My seats,you will pay the price."
Most Wednesdays, She likes to go shopping.She will have me park at one of Her favourite designer stores,
tying Her end of the leash to the metal bracket that harnesses the rear seat belt.'Wait here and make sure you stay hard while I'm away' She says ,that exquisite smile curving her lips like swallows descending.
There i will wait for an hour or more,amidst the smartly coated chauffeurs in their assorted shiny limousines waiting for their masters and Ladies,thankful for the tinted windows that hide me in my exposed state from passing,inquiring eyes.
For Sunday lunch,She will order i drive Her to a current favourite restaurant where She will usually meet Her business partner to review the week ahead. On Sundays , i am considered 'off-duty',which really  means  i am not required to wear my cock leash, though i am not allowed to leave the car while i wait for Her in the parking lot,She will have the kitchen at the restuarant send me out something to eat of Her choosing.The meals are usually small (a tuna sandwich or a small green salad,but never both together).
The food delivery is always accompanied by a hand written note from Her.
i have kept all of these notes in a drawer by my bed.
They contain messages such as' your lifestyle involves a lot of sitting,we certainly don't want you getting flabby and out of shape now,do we?'
Another reads ' if you really need to use the washroom you may do so, but be careful with My cock when you take it out of your pants to pee.'
Perhaps the most chilling note i kept simply reads ' Remember  it's My car.Don't drop any food on the seat while you eat or I will drive home with you in the trunk.'
Tonight  is Saturday night and She's going to a party on Long Island.As we drive across the Expressway,the lights of New York City  receding in the side mirrors of Her car, i feel the familiar tug of Her leash emanating from the back seat. As She yanks my  cock left and right,i look up into the rear view mirror,watching the lights of the oncoming traffic throw red reflections across her delicate cheekbones.She smiles at me,and for a moment we are both acutely aware of the deep submissive space that She controls in me.
We leave the Expressway and take a long wooded road to an address She had given me earlier,scrawled on an old business card.
We take a right turn through heavy  iron gates and thread our way down a tunnel of  ancient oaks along a driveway to an imposing stone manor.There are couples walking about in expensive evening wear,tuxedos and ballgowns,but none of them looks the way She does.Not one of them shines like She does.
i drive Her to the front door and gaze transfixed as She leaves the car and floats between the white pillars up the flagstone stairs in Her long silken black dress cut at the side to her  hip ,the slow descent of her long blonde hair tangling gently in a simple string of pearls at her neck, Her tall heels centring the flow of Her every movement as if  She had ordered  gravity to provide Her perfect symmetry with every step.
i  am ordered to remain in the car as always,rolling down the window enough to hear Her say,'wait for Me at the end of the driveway,I should be there by midnight.'
Again She has tethered me by my cock to the back seat belt,so i drive cautiously around the circular driveway to the end,finding a parking spot beneath a lone pine tree a few feet off the main asphalt.
Afraid to fall asleep in case She summons me,i turn on the radio and find a late night jazz station.
Hours pass . It's close to midnight and i am lost in the strains of Billie Holiday singing Stormy Monday,when  i see Her walking towards the car in a sliver of moonlight.She is walking with an elegant,dreamlike sway and carrying a half-filled martini glass which She sets on the hood of the car.
She opens the back door and greets me with a capricious  'hello my boy,having a good evening?'
i smile and say 'yes thank you my Mistresss,i hope You are too'.
'I am my boy and about to enjoy it even more' She replies,closing Her door and passing me the key to the glove box which She always keeps locked.
'Open it and pass Me what You find inside' She whispers. As i open the glove compartment and its small light illuminates the interior,i feel a shiver run down my spine.There,resting above a road map of New York State i see an intimidating  pink strap-on ,the vivid pink translucence of the cock reflecting in the halogen glow of the glovebox light.
'Pass it to Me' She orders and reflexively i do.There are small beads of anxious sweat trickling down my chest,but i know there is no way out.
i am told to fold the driver's seat over ,to lower my pants and to lie across the slightly humped seat with my face down.
What follows is a series of images that are  burned into the hard drive of my brain forever:
The glimpse of Her hand cupping a cube of butter She must have taken from the buffet table, the sensation of the melting butter being applied deep into my quivering ass,the feel of Her hand at the base of my neck as she holds  me in Her grip,driving my face hard into the padded leather dashboard as She impales me repeatedly on that gargantuan cock  ,the sound of Her pearl necklace rattling in my ear,her ardent whisper in my ear 'don't ever forget whose ass this is sonny boy'.
Most evocative, is the image of that martini glass on the hood of Her car,rocking with Her every  thrust,a  lonely olive bobbing in the moonlit glass ; a cork on a vodka ocean. The unmistakable sound of the glass finally slipping and falling to the ground.Her scream of fulfillment,the endless downward motion of her nails as she leaves four parallel bloody paths down the centre of my back.
She sleeps all the way home,a half smile on her adjective-defying  lips,a strand of hair across her eyes,a vision asleep.Billie Holiday has long since gone to bed and John Coltrane has taken over her place on the radio as the New York skyline twinkles into view.
My ass feels seared and i shift uncomfortably in my seat as i drive.
Cock ring in place as usual,the end of my leash curled around her fingers, a twist of brown leather across her delicate white wrist.
'Isn't it remarkable',i say out loud to myself, 'even when She's asleep, i am Hers.'
i am not totally surprised to hear a soft sleepy murmur from the back seat,'Yes,even when I'm asleep.'