Fucktoy by Lady Peregrine

Fucktoy
by Peregrine Jules

"Slut!" I summon you from another room. You're on your feet when you arrive at the entryway of the bedroom, but immediately drop to your knees. You find me standing on a plush rug at the center of the room. "Yes, Mistress?"

I look at you-- your nakedness, your submissive posture, your caged cock. Instantly, I'm even more aroused than I was when I called. I experience a rush of heat between my legs and my clit throbs. "Come here, slut."

As you crawl across the room, I strip off my jeans and panties, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. I enjoy the surprised expression on your face.

When you arrive at my feet, I grab you by the collar and pull your face into my neatly trimmed mound, holding you tightly to me so you can smell my arousal and feel my wetness on the bridge of your nose.

My other hand appears above you, a pair of handcuffs dangle from one finger. "Cuff your hands behind your back." You whimper. I maintain the tension on your collar, holding your nose to my cunt. Obediently, you clamp one cuff around a wrist and then, clumsily, cuff it to the other wrist behind you.

As soon as the second cuff locks into place, I command,"Do your job, bitch." Your tongue slides into my cunt, I moan and step my feet wide, never letting go of your collar. You press your tongue into me, tongue fucking me. You can tell I have no patience for niceties. I grind my clit against your nose, using you. My cries of pleasure soon reward you.

Just as suddenly as it began, it ends. I shove you away. You look up at me, stunned, your nose, lips, and cheeks glisten with my juices. You open your mouth to speak, but I slap you before you can utter a word. "Quiet!" The blow whips your head to the side and upsets your balance; you just manage to stay upright. I can see the hurt and confusion in your eyes, but I'm in no mood to baby you. A perfect handprint burns scarlet on your cheek.

"Stand up, bitch." You have no idea what I mean to do, but you scramble to your feet as gracefully as possible.

I move to the edge of the bed, dragging you with me. When I sit, your caged cock is directly in front of my face. Your arousal is stunted by the cage and by your confusion. Part of me wants to keep you caged, to torment you, to arouse you until your cock is straining against the bars and the pain is unbearable. ‘Next time,’ I promise myself; my current needs are more urgent.

I produce the key to your cage, lifting it from where it lays between my breasts. Without ceremony, I unlock your cage and remove it. I flick your limp, freed cock with my fingernail. "You should always be ready for me, bitch." Your cock throbs. "If you can't get it up then I'll just strap a nice thick dildo to your face and you'll miss out on the chance to fuck me." Your cock throbs again, responding to its new found freedom and to the mocking tone in my voice. As it hardens, I smack it firmly, first one side, then the other. I build to full on slaps. Your cock swells until it’s fully erect. "That's better."

I grip your chin harshly, tomorrow you'll have bruises where my fingers dug into your skin. "You better not give me any trouble. I drained you two days ago. I don't want to hear any whining about needing to stop. If you cum, I will stripe your dirty, pathetic cock with my flogger and bruise those greedy balls with my crop. Got it?"

You manage to squeak out a "Yes, Mistress."

I release your jaw and pat your cheek roughly. "Good."

Grabbing your stiff cock, I jerk you towards me. You wince, but manage to override the instinct to pull away from my rough grip. I guide you to my cunt. Laying back on the bed, I hook my legs over your shoulders and command "Fuck me till I cum, slut." You push your hips forward, pressing your cock into me. You bite your lip to avoid gasping as my velvet heat swallows you, correctly guessing that any indication that your cock is anything more than a dildo will infuriate me.

Your movements are slow and gentle. I slap you again, embellishing your cheek with another lovely hand print. I reach up and grab you by the collar, jerking you forward. "Did I say ‘make love to me?'" With a gasp of pain and a mumbled apology you press your cock deep inside me and start pounding me.

Keeping a firm grip on your collar, I lean back and close my eyes. My free hand drifts down to my clit to circle it furiously.

You drive your cock into me, desperate to please. You watch me for some sign of approval, but your presence has faded from my mind, you are merely a dick now, a tool.
My grip on your collar is punishing, your neck strains as you try to remain upright. Your cheek smarts. Your jaw aches. Worse, my cunt clenches tighter and tighter around your cock as my pleasure builds. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and claw your fingers into your palms, anything to distract yourself from your own pleasure. My moans and cries and whimpers torment you. Still, you drive your cock into me, plunging forward, again, again, like a jackhammer. Silently, you pray that I cum quickly, that I won't cruelly hold back just to torture you.

When I explode into orgasm tears of relief fill your eyes. Yet, I don't command you to stop.

Instead, now, I'm examining your face, watching you with a wicked grin. Every second feels like an age. Your mind grasps desperately for anything to else focus on, anything but the tightness and heat of my cunt around your desperate cock.

"Do you want to cum, slut?" My voice is deliberately low, deliberately seductive.

"Yes!" you gasp, filled with hope.

With a cruel laugh, I plant a foot on your chest and I shove you back. Without your hands to break your fall, you hit the floor hard and it knocks the air from your lungs. You lie there. Stunned. Defeated. Your cock still hard and throbbing. You begin to weep.

You lose track of me until I'm standing over you. Something cold and metal hits your cheek and bounces onto the carpet in front of you. A key.

"I'll let you figure out how to free your hands," I say, "Your cage is on the sofa, lock your slutty cock back up. I'm going to take a shower." I pause, "Dinner better not be late."