Masturbation Monday: “On the Prowl”

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A pair of black cat ears on a headband. For a Masturbation Monday post called On The Prowl

She is on the prowl tonight. The black latex clings to every inch of her perfect body, the heels of her boots are spikes to crush anyone who gets in her way. The cat ears could be considered cute on someone else, but she will eat you alive if you call her cute.

She’s in the mood to fuck tonight. Not to get fucked; no. Tonight she wields the cock and you will submit.

She’ll extend a long finger, her nail a perfect pointed claw the colour of blood, and from across the room you’ll feel that nail and her gaze pierce you. You. She has chosen you, and she knows you will follow. That finger beckons you, and you come. The heat of the bodies and the thump of the music swells as she draws you in, close enough to feel the heat of her breath on your lips, close enough to see yourself reflected back in those startling feline eyes. She’s assessing you; will you pass? You must choose, in this moment, to obey or not. If you don’t, she will have no hesitance in casting you aside with a flick of her tail and seeking a more suitable worshiper.

Satisfied, she grants you a single nod of approval. You lap it up as though you are starving. She will not allow you to touch her. You have not earned that right. Your hands must stay obediently at your sides, a test of your willpower and devotion.

Later, you will find yourself prostrate on her bed in submission as she slides in and out of you. You revel in the gentle hiss of her breath at the exertion. She revels in the sheen of sweat glistening upon your back as you take her in. She might reach beneath you to wrap her claws around your longing cock – if you’re lucky. More likely she will simply use you, take what she wants and ignore your aching need, and you will adore her all the more for it. You are here, after all, to serve her.

Tonight she is on the prowl, and her hunt will be rewarded.

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Image is by me.

Masturbation Monday: “Take a Seat”

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I didn’t know what I was going to write for today’s Masturbation Monday and was pretty much all out of inspiration. I usually ignore the photo prompts and just write what I want. This week, though, I clicked over to the page to see what the image prompt was, and… well, look at it! My mind started to spin, and this is what it came up with…

A glass butt plug on a white chair.I try not to squirm too much in my seat. She hates when I do that – she interprets it as complaining, which I’m not allowed to do. Across the table from me, my Mistress calmly eats her salad, occasionally looking up from her plate to flash me that devilish smile. Her strawberry-blonde curls tumble to half way down her back and her breasts look fucking incredible in that black dress she knows I love and, undoubtedly, her favourite push-up bra beneath it. Her fifties have been kind to her – in the thirty years I’ve known her, she’s got more beautiful with every passing year.

As for me, I’m wearing my best suit – it is our anniversary, after all, and this restaurant is very expensive. I’m sure to anyone observing we just look like a normal, middle-aged couple out for a special dinner. What no-one else knows is that under my trousers, I’ve got a glass butt-plug nestled deep in my ass.

She bent me over our bed before we left, lubed up the plug and slid it into my ass, telling me that I was going to be a good boy and wear it for her all night – without giving the game away in public, of course. And so here I am, feeling it inside me with every movement and trying not to let my face betray our secret.

She pops a forkful of food into her mouth and her eyes lock with mine. Her eyes smoulder with lust and I just know she’s wet and not wearing knickers under that dress. Tormenting me is her biggest turn-on. My cock twitches, unable to get hard in its prison but straining at the metal walls nonetheless. My ass tightens around the hard glass of the plug, sending a rush of pleasure through me.

She swallows her mouthful and mouths a single word at me. Her favourite word. “Mine“.

I am hers, every inch of me from the greying hairs on my head to my plugged ass to my caged cock. I only hope she will let me eat her beautiful cunt when we get home, while I get no pleasure at all.

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the badge to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

Image is by the fabulous Exposing 40 and was originally published as Take A Seat.

 

Masturbation Monday: “Polish”

A filthy quickie for Masturbation Monday today, inspired by Sub Bee’s gorgeous pic, which just makes me want to get on my knees and polish a hot Dominant’s boots.

She likes me to polish her boots.

It’s one of the ways I show my service. We go to the club, and she lounges on one of the comfy leather couches chatting with her friends and drinking a glass of wine, while I kneel at her feet and use a soft cloth and the inky black polish to shine the leather so brightly I can almost see my face reflected in it.

Occasionally she’ll pet my hair while I work, tell me I’m a good boy. Sometimes, she’ll loan out my services to another Mistress – or a Master. I’m as straight as they come, sexually, but something about serving a well-dressed Dominant man just gets me hard as fuck. I think it’s feeling inferior, knowing they’re so much better than me… they get to walk around in their smart suits, drink their wine and fuck the beautiful women they’re surrounded by, while I’m only good enough to sit naked on the floor and polish their boots.

Tonight, I’m in my usual spot at her feet. My work is finished, her leather boots gleaming, but Mistress pays little attention to me, except to occasionally glance down to make sure I’m still in the correct position – hands clasped, kneeling with legs slightly parted, my erection sticking out embarrassingly for all to see. I am supposed to keep my eyes on the ground but I occasionally steal a quick look up at her, this beautiful goddess who owns me.

Without missing a beat in her conversation, she reaches the toe of her newly-polished boot towards me and strokes it up and down my hard cock. Once. Twice. Three times. She gets into a rhythm, absentmindedly rubbing her boot against me while I quiver and try to control my reactions.

The stroking of her booted foot against my cock, coupled with the sweet scent of leather and polish and the humiliation of being otherwise ignored, is almost unbearably erotic. I hear myself groaning. My cock strains towards her teasing foot of its own accord, so hard it aches. I can’t help but thrust my hips, trying to get more purchase for my throbbing cock against her boot. Fuck, it feels good!

I know I’m supposed to ask permission.

Mistress…”

Still she doesn’t even look at me, but it’s too late, too late. My cock has a mind of its own. With a loud, guttural moan, I release, my come splashing all over her beautiful boots.

At last she looks at me, first my red cheeks then my now limp cock, then she lifts her foot to inspect the sight of her boot covered in my jizz. “Oh dear, slave, look what a mess you’ve made of my boots. You’re going to have to polish them all over again.”

I retrieve my cleaning cloth, burning with embarrassment but glowing with happiness.

Masturbation Monday was created by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see who else is writing about kinky boots this week.

Image is by Sub-Bee and used with permission.

Masturbation Monday: “Pinwheel”

Two firsts for me on the blog today: I’m taking part in my awesome friend Kayla‘s Masturbation Monday challenge for the first time (you can too! Click the link for details and to see everyone else’s smut.) I’m also writing erotica from the point of view of a person with a penis for the first time.

The prompt post is here (I’m not adding the picture because I don’t want the blog to get shut down due to images of genitals.)

Here’s my Masturbation Monday effort. It includes female dominance and male submission, tease/denial, and mild genital pain infliction. Usual disclaimers apply: all characters are legal adults and giving informed consent to everything portrayed here.

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“Pinwheel”

‘Do you want your cock touched?’ she asks, her fingers teasing the unyielding plastic of my cage as my dick strains against it, trying to get hard, trying to feel something.

“Please…” is all that comes out. She giggles, this woman I love, my wife of fifteen years and now also my Mistress of just over a year. She twirls a strawberry blonde curl with her left hand, while her right moves from my caged cock to my swollen balls.

“But it’d be such a shame. You’re so obedient when you’re frustrated and I’m worried that if I let you out now, you’ll just come and then all my hard work will be ruined.”

“I won’t come, Mistress,” I promise, even though there’s nothing I want more in the world. The traces a finger along the underside of my cock cage. I hear a whimper escape my lips.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says. My breath catches. Her “deals” rarely end well for me. “I’ll let your cock out for a short while, but it’s going to be painful. You can accept the pain and thank me for it, or you can refuse. But if you refuse, you stay locked.”

Our eyes meet. Hers, sparkling wells of pure devilishness. Mine, pleading, pathetic.

“Well?” she prompts.

“Yes. I mean, yes please, Mistress. I’ll take the pain.”

She makes a show of fiddling with the key, on a long chain around her neck and usually buried somewhere in her spectacular cleavage. I get an amazing view of her tits as she leans forward to unlock me, but it just makes my dick harden even more, causing a squeezing pain. She eases the cage off me, so slowly that I just know she’s enjoying torturing me. Bitch. But God, I love her for it.

“Hands behind your back,” she orders. “Close your eyes. The moment you move your hands, open your eyes or ask for mercy, I’m locking you back up. Got it?”

I comply. “Yes, Mistress.”

I feel a hand cup my balls and squeeze. Not hard – she knows that intense ball torture is a hard limit for me – but enough to give me that delicious ache I both hate and crave. Then her fingers are on my cock, the feather light touch maddening, thirty seven days of pent up arousal all building at once. I screw my eyes closed and concentrate on not humping against her hand to get more stimulation. She hates that.

SLAP.

The stinging slap to my cock catches me by surprise, out of nowhere. I jump and cry out. She giggles. Then, the stern voice I know so well returns.

“You’re forgetting something.”

“Mistress?”

“You’re supposed to be thanking me for hurting your poor helpless cock.”

“Sorry Mistress. Thank you, Mistress. Please may I have more pain?”

“Good boy.” I am treated to perhaps five seconds of her gorgeous hand running up and down my shaft in just the way I like.

SLAP.

“Ahhh! Thank you, Mistress. Please may I have more?”

SLAP.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

SLAP SLAP SLAP.

I’m moaning in pleasure and pain, wondering if it’s possible to orgasm from cock slapping alone and if I would be punished if I do.

I hear her move away from me. The sound of the drawer opening. A rummaging. Oh, God, what is she looking for now? I hope it’s not that vicious little leather paddle she likes to use on my cock sometimes. That nearly brought me to tears last time.

Then her hand is on my cock again, stroking, tickling, teasing to the point that I think I might cry from this alone.

And then the sharp pain.

I jump. A squeak of surprise escapes my lips. I hear a soft laugh.

“Keep still, Sweetheart. I need to be very careful with this so I don’t hurt you… in a bad way,” she says wickedly. She runs the tool up my leg and I realise what it is – the Wartenburg pinwheel she found at the fetish market a few weeks back. She was so pleased with herself when I returned to her side after going to fetch her a glass of wine and she showed me her purchase. Her new instrument of torture.

She holds my cock firmly in one hand. With the other, the runs the pinwheel – slowly, so slowly – along the top length of my shaft. I am quivering. She does this a few more times, eliciting moans and whimpers from me as I fight to keep my hands behind my back and my eyes shut. No, she’ll lock me back up if I do that, and this delicious pain is much better than the frustration of that hated plastic device.

“God, you’re hard as a rock,” she murmurs, lifting my cock and running the pinwheel along the sensitive underside. “You love this, don’t you?”

I somehow know that this question is rhetorical. She knows I love it. I know I love it, this edge between agony and ecstasy.

The pinwheel is running once again along the underside of my cock shaft, pressed harder now, making me wince, though I know it won’t break my skin – the seller had assured her of that, she said. Designed to feel like it’s cutting you without actually doing any damage.

She pulls back my foreskin and I suck in my breath, knowing what’s coming. I screw my eyes more tightly shut and squeeze my hands together behind my back. I want to beg her not to do it. If I do, know she’ll stop, but then it’ll be back into the evil cage for my poor teased cock.

And then she does it. She drags that wicked, spiky wheel along the exposed head of my cock, which is already dripping pre-cum. My body betraying me. I squirm in place, my breathing coming in short, shuddering gasps. She does it again. Again. Traces the wheel all the way around my cock head in a circle. It hurts so bad. Hurts so good.

“My poor baby,” she murmurs. “Letting your Mistress torment your cock because you know it’s the only stimulation it’s going to get…”

“Yes… thank you, Mistress. Mistress, do you think…?” I let the question hang in the air.

“Do I think what?”

“You know what!”

“Maybe, but I want to hear you say it.” The wheel is back on the shaft of my cock again, running up and down, up and around the head, and then up and down on the other side.

“Will you please let me come today?”

She giggles. I hate that giggle. But I love it, and her, and the delicious pain she gives me. “No, sweetie. Not today.” The pinwheel is discarded on the bed. My cock aches, longing for more. “Let’s get you back into your cage. We’ll see about letting you come next week.”

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