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Please note that this content is sexually explicit. We recommend that you should not read this content if you are offended by sexually explicit material.


I woke up eye level with the smooth curve of her thigh, and glanced at the alarm clock on our desk – six am, time to start my devotions. My morning wood swelled further at the thought. I crawled out of bed, careful not to disturb her, and continued my crawl to the wall mirror; in the morning, I must not be above all fours, unless cooking breakfast.

The wall held her cock, proudly jutting its length from the suction cup that attached it, solid and veiny. I remembered how squirmy and awkward I’d felt when she first introduced it in the bedroom, like she’d been reading my innermost secret thoughts, the ones I was most embarrassed about, and liked them. My Mistress, the first, who discovered how much I loved to be helpless underneath her, whimpering until I begged for release. How much I needed to be pegged.

My morning varied from day to day, but it always began the same way – showing my respect for her cock. This was the most difficult part, and consequently the most arousing – humiliating myself without any active prompting, in hope of getting something I was embarrassed about wanting. Either way, today, like every day, I found myself doing as I was told.

I knelt in front of it and licked my lips, started saliva going in my mouth. I felt a secret thrum of humiliation as I realized that the salivation was now partially involuntary – whenever I thought of her cock, whenever I wasn’t thinking about having it buried to the hilt in my ass, I drooled at the thought of worshiping it with my mouth. I felt like she’d conditioned me. I felt the first drops of precum on the tip of my cock, and started to feel worried – I was only ever allowed to cum with something stuffed up my arse. I decided to concentrate on the task at hand, and slid the latex cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around it, making it slick with my saliva, bobbing up and down submissively, imagining (wishing) she was wearing it. An involuntary memory of her threatening to have me demonstrate my technique on a real cock pushed to the forefront on my brain and I twitched violently, which resulted in my mouth being forced further down onto the dildo, until the head pressed at the back of my throat. I didn’t know if I wanted that; I wasn’t gay, considered myself very straight, and yet here I was, worshipping cock like I did it every day…because I did do it every day.

The conflict of humiliation and arousal spurred me on, and my mouth filled with even more saliva. It started to dribble down my chin as I forced myself down on the cock, as it became warm from its constant presence in my throat. Initially I had struggled to get it all the way down while she was wearing it, which is why I’d ended up having to practise in the first place. I’d mastered the previous dildo, which prompted her to tell me I was such a slut for cock that she’d have to buy a bigger one. This was the bigger one, and I could only sometimes manage it. But the reward was worth it – if I managed, and provided proof with a print from the tip of my nose on the glass of the mirror, I would be allowed to come while she used it on me.

I was having difficulty, so I pulled back far enough to run my tongue up and down it from the shaft to the tip, hoping making it slicker and easier to get down. I heard her stir in bed, and do what sounded like sitting up, but I didn’t turn around – that too was forbidden. I kept at my task, diligently, taking the plastic cock back between my lips and smoothing my tongue along the base, swallowing around it, frowning in concentration. She spoke.

‘What a good job you’re doing. I wonder if you’ll earn your treat today?’

The sound of her voice triggered a feeling of intense submission and confusion in me, and I redoubled my efforts. I kept swallowing, and pressed my mouth down onto the cock, it butted roughly against the back of my throat, teasing my gag reflex. I stared at the spot where my nose print would be if I succeeded, like I was trying to burn a hole through the mirror. I pulled back to breathe and then pressed on, so close, near earning my ‘treat’, another dose of incredible intense horniness, coloured by near unbearable humiliation and embarrassment. I fucking loved it. I heard her get up and walking and felt her presence beside me.

‘That’s it. Keep going, I can see you want it so badly. I can’t wait till I get to watch you doing this on the real thing.’

I moaned a confused sound of protest.

‘Don’t try with that, you’ve more than shown how much you really want it, even if you pretend not to. As they say, the lady, or in your case, the cock slut, doth protest too much. Carry on.’

I hadn’t stopped my ministrations while she talked to me; I knew better. My tongue and throat worked together, my lips making a smooth wet ‘O’ around the base, eyelids fluttering. My breath fogged the mirror, and I felt the give of that last bit of resistance in my throat, and the crush of my nose against the class, making a blurry triangular smear that seemed so perfect. Her hands laced through my hair, and rested on the back of my neck

‘Three more times for me, just three, and then I’ll fuck your hungry bouncy ass before you make me breakfast.’ My balls tightened and I fought not to come at the thought. I mustn’t, or I’d ruin everything. I pulled my head back, all the way off, as she liked it, and slid it slowly, lovingly back down. It seemed easy now, sliding heavy and thick into my throat, and my nose touched the glass once more. Then again, and a final time, and I couldn’t help myself – I looked up at her, and felt the expression of helpless eagerness on my face. She laughed and I hoped she was pleased. She used her thumb to collect some sweat from my forehead, and slid it across my lips, pushing the saltiness into me.

‘Can you taste how hard you worked? How much you really, genuinely wanted that cock in your throat, and later in your ass? Can you imagine how it will be when it’s a real cock?’ I murmured, I couldn’t bring myself or didn’t know what to say.

‘I think it’s almost time.’

She sounded almost gentle.

‘You need to be honest with yourself, and it would please me. Admit that you want it, and ask for it, so I can arrange it, and then I’ll fuck you.’

I felt confusion and arousal spiralling into my gut, and I didn’t know what to do. I looked up at her, the look of inexorable knowledge on her face, as if she was certain how I would answer. And she was probably right. As well as my humiliating deep seated desire to be submissive to a guy for her, I also was desperately in need of a fuck right then and there. I gathered myself, took a deep breath and made the decision.

‘Please Mistress, could you please organise for me to suck the cock of a man?’ Verbalising it made me feel incredibly dizzy. She looked genuinely thrilled.

‘Good boy. Okay, pass me my cock and get on all fours and present yourself for me on the bed.’

I bolted onto the bed and grabbed the lube in passing – this was also part of the ritual. I pumped the lube onto my fingers and smeared it onto my asshole- too horny to be embarrassed by my eagerness. I pressed my face into the pillow and steadied my weight on my thighs, splayed my legs wide and waited for her. I heard her fussing about near the mirror, the clink of the buckles on the harness. She used a leather one, sturdy and sweet smelling – it was my job to clean and polish it when we finished, yet another sign of my submission to her. I felt her weight on the bed, and the sound of the lube bottle being pumped a few more times. I pictured her lazily slicking the dildo up with the lube, making it shine, until I felt her hands on my arse.

‘Ask for it, nicely. Without hesitation, please.’

‘Mistress please fuck my arse with your cock.’

‘Tell me how you earned this.’ She sounded insistent.

‘By sucking cock like a good boy Mistress.’


‘By asking you to find me a real cock to suck.’

‘Good boy.’ I felt her hands steadying her weight against my ass, and the head of the dildo press against my arsehole.

‘Will you let the owner of the real cock do this if I ask?’

The head of the dildo pressed infinitesimally inward. She really was pushing me, edging my boundaries.

‘If you say it, admit it, you’ll get what you want right now. Though, you must know, I intend to have him come inside you. You’ll be all sticky, to show how much you want to please me.’

I shuddered like a flyblown horse, and suppressed a whimper.

‘Yes Mistress. You can have the owner of the cock come in me, so you know how much I want to please you.’

My cock felt like it was about to burst, but my arsehole felt achingly empty.

‘Lovely boy. I can’t wait, and I know you can’t either.’

Without saying any more, she bore down, and the cock pressed and slid its way into me. I felt a momentary rush of embarrassment at how easy it seemed (another thing I had practised), how smoothly and eagerly I was penetrated, but it was rapidly overwhelmed by other feelings. The feeling of being full, stuffed even, as she buried herself to the hilt in me, the previously unfamiliar feeling of submissive dirtiness, was all consuming. I felt like a slut, which unmanned me, even after all this time it still felt foreign and strange. She slid out again, and I couldn’t help but push my ass back towards her, whimpering pathetically, the awareness of my debasement making me unbelievably horny. She adjusted her weight before sliding back in, and I felt her solidly rest one palm on her back, and her other hand squeezed around my cock. Slick with lube she started to jerk me off as she fucked me, impaling me, seeming like she was pushing me backwards onto her. I was helpless, eager and pinned and I loved it. My cock was throbbing as she slid her hand up and down it, her hand hot and steady, almost lazy in her technique. In this state I didn’t need precision, and it wasn’t long before I found myself begging incoherently without a shadow of hesitation.

‘Please Mistress, may I come? I need to come, I’m so horny, it’s fucking crazy what you do to me…please god, please Mistress, please!’

She sighed with satisfaction as she thudded deeply into my ass, her hand giving yet another good stroke, almost the vinegar stroke, which would break me.

‘Wonderful, dirty boy. Yes, you may. As long as you remember what you’ve said today.’

Her permission couldn’t have come soon enough, and my cock didn’t even need a final stroke. I felt like my insides were being sucked out of me as my cock started to spurt, my desperation and humiliation driving me, heaviness and almost pain from so long being denied. My whole body twitched and convulsed as I made a mess of the sheets underneath me, moaning gutturally. She stroked me right through till the finish, milking the last little droplets of my cum, sliding her thumb and collecting some. I wasn’t at all surprised when she smeared some across my lips, and I flicked out my tongue obediently to clean up.

‘Just a little taste, darling, for you to start to get used to it. Soon you’ll have a lot more of the same coming.’

© Audrey Bird 2014

Audrey Bird is yet another Antipodean living in London, where she spends most of her time daydreaming about returning to the tropics. She’s currently experimenting with writing from perspectives not her own, and one day hopes that all the filthy stories will make her richer than God (aka JK Rowling).


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