Happy Friday everybody! Welcome to the penultimate chapter of our little adventure. Remember, if you’re enjoying it, leave us some likes and comments so we know to continue it next month. -Richard
H is for Horny. Or Hurting.
by Richard
“It turns me on so fucking much when you whores start crying,” she said.
She stood up off of him, loosening the strap on and tossing it into the wings for one of the attendants to grab. They’d need to clean it before the next show anyway.
“I’ll be honest. I don’t really get off much from fucking,” she said. She grabbed the zipper near the neck of her suit and slowly pulled it down. She let it drop on down to Phillip.
“Pain is what really does it for me.” She reached up, pinching her nipples. “On myself is nice, but I really prefer it on others.”
She bent over, grabbing one of his nipples with the fingertips of each hand and pulling. He hissed and struggled up to his feet.
“Of course, it’s not just physical pain. I love reminding this pathetic purple pussy eater what a freak he is.” She traced the seam where his hood met the neck of his costume. “Can you imagine how awful it’d be if I just ripped this off now?” she asked. “How embarrassed would you be if everyone saw who you were? Friends. Family. Could you ever show your face again if I ripped your mask off right here?” She reached behind his head, undoing the gag and tossing it off stage as well.
Phillip flexed his jaw a few times and swallowed before answering, “No, Mistress.”
The Dungeon Mistress smiled and reached down, tracing one finger along the curve of his cock, collecting the dollop of precum at the head. “But your cock throbbed with every insult, didn’t it?” she asked, flicking the pre onto his chest.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“I bet you don’t even want to cum,” she said, slowly starting to jerk him off.
“Let’s see a show of hands. How many guys out there would rather get jerked off until just before they cum, and go home with a nice case of blue balls than have your date actually finish you off? Anybody? Anybody?”
She continued rubbing Phillip’s dick as she looked out in the crowd, a few hands raised. “Alright, if you brought a guy with you tonight, take a look. You gotta give ‘em what they want, right?”
She jerked him faster, her gloved hand almost a blur on his cock as he squirmed on the stage. Removing her microphone, she put it up close to his mouth, letting the whole theater hear as he whined and moaned.
“That’s it, pet. Get all kinds of hot and bothered. I want you to think about tonight the next time you jerk off. Assuming I let you…”
It didn’t take long. Shortly after that, his voice filled the auditorium. “Please, Mistress. You need to stop! I can’t hold on.”
“Ooooh, what’s that, slave-boy? Do you need something?”
“Mistress, please, I’m going to cum. I know you aren’t going to let me.”
“I’m not. Because I’m a kind Domme, who makes sure you get what you like. And what do you like more than cumming, whore?”
“Having my orgasms ruined, Goddess.”
“Mmm, that’s right. So you make sure you let me know just when you can’t take it anymore, and I’ll give us both what we want.”
He kept muttering and writhing in her grasp, a word here and there intelligible. “Mistress”, “please”, “close”, “don’t.”
“Now, Mistress, I’m cumming!” he gasped, then screamed as she squeezed down hard on his balls with one hand, the other gripping the base of his shaft as hard as she could. He jerked and gasped for almost a full thirty seconds before finally slumping against her.
She clicked the mic off and leaned against his ear to whisper, “You okay?”
“Yeah, that was great.”
“Alright, go get checked out. I’ll be back in a few,” she said, giving him a light shove towards the side of the stage.
She took a step forward, gesturing towards him with one hand. “Let’s have a big round of applause for my sub tonight! Give it up for Mister Purple!”
The crowd cheered, and she went through the rest of her closing, taking a bow as the curtain closed in front of her. The staff ran out of the wings, collecting the toys to be cleaned and put away, as she headed back towards her dressing room, knocking before entering.
J R Vincente 