2 of 4 on my profile.
2: Cuck for Ann (MF/M – BDSM)
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Chapter 1: The Conversation
The night had gone quiet. The TV hummed low in the corner, casting shifting light across the room, but neither of us were really watching. Ann was stretched out lazily on the sofa, legs curled under her, one hand idly scrolling her phone. I was on the floor at her feet, head resting lightly against her thigh, her fingers drifting absently through my hair.
It was the kind of silence we both liked — warm, heavy, the kind that pressed down without needing to be broken. But she always knew when to stir it.
Her fingers tightened just a little in my hair, tugging my head back enough to make me look up at her. She wasn’t even glancing at me, still thumbing through her screen, but her voice carried that same soft weight that made my chest tighten.
“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”
My brow furrowed. “…Thought about what?”
Her eyes flicked down to me, that faint, knowing smirk already on her lips. “Me. With someone else. You watching.”
Heat surged through me before I could stop it. I swallowed hard, shaking my head a little too quickly. “I—no, not really…”
Ann’s smirk deepened. She finally set her phone aside, leaning down until her face hovered just above mine, her hair brushing against my cheek. “Liar.”
The word landed sharp, playful, but heavy enough to root me in place.
She kissed me once — soft, almost affectionate — before pulling back and looking me dead in the eye. “I know you, puppy. Better than you know yourself. You’ve thought about me on my knees for someone else. About me moaning for him while you sit here, useless. Haven’t you?”
I couldn’t answer. My throat locked up, shame prickling across my skin, but she read it anyway. She always did.
Her fingers slid down to my jaw, holding me still, her thumb pressing lightly against my lips. “Say it.”
I closed my eyes, heart hammering. “…Yes, Mistress.”
The satisfaction that spread across her face was instant, radiant. She let out a soft, delighted laugh, like she’d been waiting for me to hand her this all along.
“There’s my good boy.” She leaned close, lips brushing the shell of my ear as she whispered, “You’re going to watch me. Really watch me. And you’re going to love every second of it, even while it ruins you.”
A shiver coursed through me, half dread, half desperate ache.
Ann sat back, casual again, as though the weight of what she’d just said was nothing. She picked up her phone, thumbing idly, her free hand still resting in my hair. “I’ll make the arrangements,” she murmured, almost offhand, like planning dinner with a friend. “You don’t get a say in who, or when. You’ll just kneel where I put you and take it.”
She glanced down at me once more, that smile spreading slow and wicked. “This is mine now, puppy. Your fantasy. My game.”
And just like that, the conversation was over. She scrolled her phone, her hand in my hair keeping me where I belonged. But the words echoed in my chest, burning into me, inevitable as her touch.
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Chapter 2: Her Preparation
A few days later, I arrived at Ann’s door, my pulse already racing in anticipation. The moment she opened it, she greeted me with a soft kiss on my lips, her eyes bright and teasing as she took my hand.
“Hey,” she said, voice light, playful, as she tugged me inside. Her grip on my hand was firm, but there was something warm in her touch, like she was savouring the moment before it shifted.
Without a word, she led me upstairs, the sound of our footsteps echoing lightly in the quiet house. As she pulled open the bedroom door, she turned to me with a grin.
“Take a seat,” she said, gesturing to the edge of the bed. Her voice was playful, but there was an underlying tension in her words that sent a thrill down my spine. “I’ve got a surprise for you, puppy.”
I sat, a wave of warmth and excitement settling over me as I waited. Ann disappeared into her closet, and I could hear the soft rustle of her clothes being discarded. The anticipation thickened in the air.
When she reappeared, Ann had slipped into a black leather dress, snug against her curves. The smooth material caught the light, accentuating every line of her body. She took her time adjusting it, making sure it sat just right before glancing over at me.
“Like it?” she asked, her voice low, but full of amusement.
I nodded, breath catching in my throat. “Yes!”
“Yes, what?” She smiled, a wicked edge to her voice.
I slipped into my role so easily. “Yes, Mistress.”
“I thought you would,” she replied, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
Ann paused, reaching into a bedside drawer and producing a delicate collar. She fastened it around her own neck, pausing to check her reflection in the mirror before turning to face me.
She moved toward me with slow, measured steps, letting me take in every inch of her. She stopped just in front of me, letting me feel the heat of her body. Her fingers brushed over the collar at her throat, tracing the soft leather with a tenderness that almost made me forget the weight of what was about to come.
But then, with a flick of her wrist, she reached for another collar from the drawer. Brown leather, cracked and heavy, with a metal ring at the front. My collar. She held it up, her eyes meeting mine, expression unreadable for a moment.
“Strip and kneel,” she commanded softly.
I obeyed without hesitation, practically ripping off my clothes with an eager grin before sinking to my knees in front of her, head bowed. The leather of the collar was cool against my skin as she slipped it around my neck, fastening it snugly. The click of the buckle was sharp, final, and the sound of it echoed in the stillness between us.
Ann’s fingers lingered at my throat, caressing the collar, then she lifted my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. The smirk on her face softened, but it held a weight I couldn’t ignore.
“There,” she whispered, voice low, almost affectionate. “Now you’re mine. Exactly how I want you.”
The words sank into me like a promise, and I exhaled hard, surrendering to their weight. She kissed me once, a quick, teasing brush of her lips before pulling back. She clicked the leash into place, giving it a firm tug that forced me to turn on the spot and face the foot of the bed, before looping the end of the leash over a bedpost.
“Stay,” she said softly, leaving me kneeling, facing the foot of the bed. She gave the slack of the leash a playful tug just to watch me strain against it. She gave me no more instructions, only letting me kneel there, bound by the collar and her command, the anticipation building thick between us.
“I need to finish getting ready,” she murmured, almost offhand, as she returned to the closet behind me. She rummaged through it slowly, letting the silence settle around us.
I stole a glance over my shoulder, breath shallow, as I saw her retrieving some fishnets and my favourite boots — sleek, black, with heels. As she returned, I quickly looked forward again, heart racing.
She stepped around me casually and sat on the edge of the bed, just inches from me.
“Do you like what you see, puppy?” she teased, her voice soft but edged with amusement. She didn’t wait for a reply, instead slipping on the stockings and boots. She raised each leg to my shoulder as she zipped them up, her eyes teasing, knowing the effect she had on me.
She finished the transformation with one last touch, pulling her hair into a messy updo that only made her look more dangerous, more untouchable.
Ann stood, taking a step toward the mirror. She surveyed herself, her eyes scanning her reflection as she checked every detail.
“Perfect,” she said simply, turning back to me.
She looked at me — naked, collared, and trembling with anticipation on the carpet — and her grin deepened.
“It’s not for you, silly puppy,” she said matter-of-factly, a promise laced with something darker.
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Chapter 3: Bound to Her Will
Ann turned back to the drawers of toys, selecting several items and casually laying them out on the bed in front of me: leather wrist and ankle cuffs, a spreader bar, a ball gag. She sat on the edge of the bed in front of me once more.
I stared into her eyes, my chest tight with the unspoken question — the one lingering from our last conversation. What had she meant when she said, “This isn’t for you”?
She smiled as if reading my mind, one fingertip brushing along my jaw before she pointed down.
“Hands.”
I offered them up immediately, wrists trembling ever so slightly. She buckled each wrist cuff with deliberate care, tugging sharply at the straps to test them. The leather bit snug against my skin, the sound of the metal buckles clicking shut echoing louder than it should in the quiet room.
“Good boy,” she said softly, but her smirk only grew. “Now, your ankles.”
Ann stood and quickly moved behind me. Crouching down behind me, she enveloped each of my ankles in turn with the thick leather cuffs. She stood again, placing a delicate hand on my shoulder before reaching over me to retrieve the spreader bar.
She tapped the inside of each leg with her boot, urging me wider. I heard the jangle of the spreader bar behind me, felt cold steel against warm skin. She locked it in place between the ankle cuffs, a crisp click, then adjusted it until I could feel the stretch pulling me open, leaving me exposed.
Ann stood back to admire her work. Her hand lazily traced the line of my collar as she stepped around in front of me again.
Then she reached for the ball gag.
She let it dangle from her fingers, tilting her head at me, voice playful and cutting all at once.
“You’ve been so quiet. Nothing you want to ask before I take your voice away, puppy?”
Heat rushed through me, shame prickling across my skin. “I’m nervous about what you have planned... Mistress.”
Her smile widened, an almost predatory gleam in her eyes. She leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear.
“Nervous?” she whispered, her breath warm against my cheek. “Or excited?”
“Both,” I admitted, voice low, unsteady.
Ann’s laugh was soft, girlish, wicked.
“Good boy. I want you aching for me, not knowing what I’ve got in store.”
She lifted the gag higher, brushing the smooth ball across my lips, lingering just long enough for me to whimper.
“Open.”
I obeyed instantly. The gag pressed firm into my mouth, filling me, silencing me. The strap tightened behind my head, snug, final, leaving me with nothing but muffled breath and the taste of leather.
Ann stepped back slowly, hands on her hips, studying me like a painter admiring a canvas. Naked, collared, cuffed, spread, gagged — her toy, perfectly displayed.
Her expression softened for a heartbeat. She leaned down, her fingers stroking my cheek, her voice hushed and affectionate.
“You look beautiful like this. My good boy. My puppy. Mine.”
Then her tone sharpened again, cruel delight glinting in her eyes.
“And tonight,” she whispered, tugging lightly on the leash until I had to meet her gaze, “you’ll kneel here and watch me moan for someone else. You’ll drool behind that gag, desperate, ruined… and I’ll love every second of it.”
A broken sound slipped out of me, muffled and helpless as I remembered our conversation from a few days ago. Her grin only widened. She kissed my forehead — mockingly tender — then straightened, smoothing her dress, her heels clicking as she moved away.
“Perfect,” she said simply. “We’re almost ready".
Ann moved with fluid grace, walking back to her dresser. I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her presence, hear the soft rustling of drawers and the quiet clink of metal.
I felt her fingers graze my collar before she crouched in front of me. When she spoke again, her voice was lower, more intimate, but still carrying that unmistakable edge of control.
“Tonight,” she said, her words deliberate, “we’re going to make sure you stay in your place.”
I whimpered, my body tense as I tried to anticipate what was coming. But Ann wasn’t finished.
She held something small, cold, and metallic in her hand — a chastity cage, gleaming under the light. The sight of it made my cock twitch in frustration. It wasn’t just a physical restraint; it was a symbol of her total control, a reminder that I wouldn’t be allowed to enjoy anything unless she said so.
“This,” Ann continued, her smile almost cruel, “is a little addition I thought we’d try tonight.”
She didn’t wait for a response. The weight of her words left me mute, unable to protest, as she slipped between my legs. Her fingers brushed over me, cold and clinical, and then she pressed the cage against my skin, gently sliding the base ring into place.
“Aw, you’re already excited,” she teased, her voice light but full of mockery. “But you don’t get to enjoy this unless I say so.”
The process was slow, deliberate — Ann’s touch was both soothing and maddening as she fitted the cage onto me. The snugness, the restraint, left me in a state of helpless tension, the full weight of my frustration sinking in with every click of the lock.
She stood, admiring her work as I lay there, my body aching for release but denied. Ann jangled the key on a chain, holding it in front of me for a moment, then slipping it around her neck.
“From now on, this is mine,” she declared, tapping the key against her chest. “And so are you.”
With a wicked smirk, she climbed onto the bed in front of me, her movements slow and deliberate. She lay back just out of reach, propping herself up on her elbows. Her legs fell apart slightly, revealing that she wore nothing under the leather dress, teasingly giving me a glimpse of what I couldn’t touch, what I couldn’t have.
Her hands trailed down her leather clad body, brushing over her chest, her stomach, before slipping under her dress where it has ridden up. She began to touch herself, her breaths deepening as she closed her eyes, completely unbothered by my muffled moans.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Every movement, every flicker of her fingers across her skin, made the ache inside me grow. I was denied everything, and the sight of her was just a reminder of what I couldn’t have, of how much control she had over me.
Just as her pace quickened, a chime interrupted the room — a text notification on her phone. Ann’s eyes fluttered open, and she let out a small sigh, pulling her hand away from her body.
“Looks like we’ll have company soon,” she said, sitting up and grabbing her phone. A wicked smile crossed her face as she read the message, eyes glinting with anticipation.
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Chapter 4: Arrival
The room was too quiet. My head spun with Ann’s revelation that we'd 'have company soon'. My breath hitched in the back of my throat, the gag tight against my lips, and every shift of my body pulled at the leather cuffs, straining against the spreader bar.
Ann’s heels clicked across the floor once more as she returned to the dresser. She moved around me slowly, a teasing presence I could feel but couldn’t quite see. She stopped in front of me, her hand raised with something small and dark in her grip.
“You look so pretty gagged,” she murmured, the words soft but heavy with meaning. She brushed the blindfold against my cheek, a gentle, almost affectionate gesture, before it turned into something more purposeful.
“Let’s see how you do without your eyes,” she whispered, her voice carrying that quiet command I knew so well.
I whimpered behind the gag, instinctively pulling back, shaking my head, but Ann only smiled wider, the corners of her mouth curling with that mix of tenderness and cruelty that always left me desperate for more.
The heavy rubber blindfold pressed over my eyes, suffocating my vision. As she pulled it tight and fastened it in place, darkness swallowed me whole.
“There,” she said, her lips brushing my ear, the words sweet yet commanding. “Now you’ll have to listen.”
The world narrowed to sound. The soft creak of her leather dress as she moved to return to the edge of the bed in front of me.
I could hear her tapping messages on her phone, the occasional quiet giggle or sigh escaping her lips.
Every so often, she brushed the toe of her boot over my caged cock, making me jump. Perhaps reminding me that I hadn't been forgotten, or maybe just teasing, keeping me tense, waiting.
The silence stretched.
Then, a knock at the door downstairs.
My chest clenched, heart pounding in my ears. The sound was too loud in the quiet.
Ann’s voice, light and casual, floated across the room, effortlessly dismissing the tension. “Right on time.”
She stood quickly, making her way out of the room, downstairs, to the front door.
The door opened. The soft groan of the hinges. Her greeting. A deeper voice responded, warm and amused. I couldn’t catch the words, but the tone alone sent a shiver down my spine, a rush of heat that prickled under my skin.
Footsteps. Two sets now. On the stairs. Moving closer. Ann’s laugh, soft and teasing, drifted through the room as she led him inside. Their voices mingled, too low for me to catch, but I strained for any hint, every syllable that could tell me what was happening.
Then, fingers brushed against the back of my neck — nails trailing lightly across my skin. Ann. Her presence was so close now that I could feel the warmth of her body even if I couldn’t see her. She leaned down, her breath warm and soft against my ear.
“James is here, puppy. And you can’t even see him.”
A soft groan slipped from me, the sound muffled, helpless. My body twisted in its restraints, the cuffs biting into my wrists, but Ann only chuckled lightly, kissing the side of my head in a way that could have been comforting, if it wasn’t so cruel.
Then she stepped back, leaving me alone in the dark again.
For what felt like an eternity, they moved around me. The soft click of a belt unbuckling. The rustle of fabric. His clothes being removed. My senses overloaded with sounds, sharp and tantalizing, but I couldn’t see a thing. My mind raced, every unanswered question only deepening the ache in my chest.
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Chapter 5a: The Use
The room was thick with anticipation. I was still bound, gagged, blindfolded, and caged.
Then I felt her hand on my face as she stepped in front of me, gliding over my cheek, down to my neck, giving my throat a playful squeeze. Holding me there by the throat, her grip tightened as she spoke.
“Ready, pet?” she asked simply. I nodded.
With one hand still at my throat, she reached behind my head and unfastened the blindfold, letting it fall to the floor. I blinked in the light as my eyes adjusted.
Ann held my stare, impossibly composed.
“You promise to be a good boy for me?”
I nodded again. I’d do anything for her.
She reached for the ball gag and pulled it from my mouth, leaving it to dangle around my neck. Taking me by the chin, she tilted my head up and kissed me with sudden, hungry intent.
“Good puppy,” she murmured, turning toward James.
James stood fully naked to one side of the bed, his body relaxed, his gaze never leaving Ann, a leash trailing gently from his hand.
He lifted her face in his palm. There was the rattle of chain, the crisp snick of metal as he clipped the leash to Ann’s collar, and then his voice: “On your knees, little bitch,” he said, deep and authoritative.
“Yes, Daddy,” Ann replied at once, her submission unmistakable.
She sank gracefully to her knees before him, her leather dress riding slightly as she adjusted herself, just inches from him.
The soft, wet sounds of her mouth working on him filled the room, drowning out everything else. Ann’s hands gripped his thighs as she took him deeper, her pace quickening as she swallowed him eagerly.
All the while, I knelt there—caged, silent—watching, my body aching with the tension of my restraints.
He drew her off and shifted to settle in the centre of the bed. With a brief tug on her leash, Ann clambered up eagerly, prowling on all fours toward him—her body swaying, teasing—as she moved away from me.
Then, without warning, she reached back, fingers finding the end of my leash where it still looped loosely over the bedpost. With a sharp yank she pulled, dragging me forward until my knees scraped the floor and I strained against the bindings.
Her booted foot was right in front of me now, the heel catching the light. She barely glanced my way—her focus stayed on James—but the spark in her eyes told me exactly what she wanted.
“Lick,” she said softly, the word edged with both cruelty and satisfaction.
I obeyed immediately, desperate to serve. I leaned in, tasting the sole, the weight of her control settling over me like a heavy cloak. Leather on my tongue, the faint scent of polish, the firm edge of the heel against my lips—each sensation a reminder of how little control I had.
I didn’t dare pull away. My tongue traced along the sole; the heel pressed gently at my mouth while she continued her work on him. The rhythm of her, the wet, relentless sounds filling my ears, kept time with the useless throb inside the cage locked around me.
Ann’s low hums grew louder, a rising thread of pleasure that made my body ache. I was an accessory to her delight—nothing more—and the humiliation of it only tightened the knot of need inside me.
She flicked her eyes back, wicked amusement flashing across them even as she kept her focus ahead. “Good boy,” she cooed. “You know your place.”
I didn’t answer; I only nodded against her boot, the taste lingering on my tongue as the need built and built—still denied, still caged.
James’s voice cut through, deep and satisfied: “Such a good little slut, Ann.”
She didn’t slow; if anything, she took him deeper, faster. I could only serve at her feet and watch, the wave of jealousy and desire washing over me as she gave herself to him with total abandon. My tongue kept working at her boot, helpless, my body straining uselessly against the restraints.
“Good girl,” James said, low and approving. “Just like that.”
Ann hummed around him, fingers firm on his thighs as she took him deeper, a satisfied sound breaking in her throat. Her eyes flicked toward me once more, a small, wicked smile curving her lips. She was in full control, and the certainty that I was only her puppy—her toy—made the ache inside my chest burn brighter.
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Chapter 5b: The Turn
James’s hand tightened in Ann’s hair and pulled her back from his cock with a wet pop.
“Turn around,” he said, voice calm, patient, unhurried — but absolute.
“Yes, Daddy.”
She obeyed instantly, pivoting on her knees and prowling across the bed until she faced me at the foot of it. James followed her easily, keeping the leash taut until he was behind her, one knee sinking into the mattress as his hands settled on her hips.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry, as Ann’s eyes locked on mine. That same wicked smirk spread across her face as she reached toward me, her fingers sliding along my jaw before curling around my throat.
“Breathe for me, puppy,” she whispered, pressing just enough to make me swallow. “You like seeing me like this, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I croaked, the words rasping through the pressure of her grip.
Her smile softened for just a heartbeat — not gentle, just pleased. “Good boy.”
She let go of my throat only long enough to slide her fingers between her own lips, wetting them, then pushed two into my mouth, deep.
“Clean them,” she ordered, her tone dropping to a purr.
I sucked obediently, my tongue circling her fingers as her eyes glittered down at me. She kept them there until they shone with my saliva, then slowly withdrew, brushing the wet tips over my lips before resting them against my collar like a brand.
Behind her, James pulled her back sharply on the leash, lining himself up. Ann’s lips parted, a shiver running through her body before she was drawn back onto him in a single, claiming thrust.
Her moan cracked into a breathless laugh. “Oh, fuck…”
She leaned forward until she was almost nose to nose with me, her breath hot against my cheek, her body still moving with each of James’s thrusts.
“You wanted this,” she whispered, voice ragged, teasing. “All your dirty little fantasies… and now I’m going to make you watch every second of it.”
I couldn’t look away. James was relentless, his hands gripping her hips, dragging her back against him with each deep stroke. Ann’s moans came faster, her body rocking between us.
Her free hand slid back to my throat again, holding me still while she used me as her anchor. Each thrust of James’s hips drove her forward, pressing me into the bedframe, until her forehead rested against mine.
“Such a good little audience,” she murmured, her voice soft and shaking as pleasure built inside her. “You just stay right there and take it. Watch me get used.”
James groaned behind her, the sound deep and approving. “She’s so tight for me,” he growled, giving the leash another sharp pull.
Ann gasped, back arching, and she turned her head slightly, letting me see the bliss on her face. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she locked eyes with me again.
“You’re going to see me come, puppy,” she said, half-promise, half-threat. “And you’re going to thank me for letting you watch.”
Her hand on my throat tightened, just enough to make my pulse hammer in my ears, her hips rolling harder against James’s grip as the sound of wet skin on skin filled the room.
“Say it,” she demanded, voice low and fierce. “Say thank you.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” I gasped, barely holding her gaze as the words tumbled out.
Ann’s laugh was breathless, delighted, and her body trembled as she moaned, clutching at the sheets with her free hand. James’s pace quickened, his breath heavy, focused, his hands pulling her back into him with unrelenting rhythm.
I could see her getting close — the way her thighs quivered, the way her moans turned into broken cries. She never let go of my throat, never let me look away.
“Don’t blink,” she whispered, a final command before her face twisted with pleasure, her moan breaking high and raw as she came hard, body shaking violently against James’s grip.
He didn’t stop, grinding into her through every shudder, his groan low and satisfied as he chased his own release.
Ann collapsed forward slightly, her forehead bumping against mine, still panting, still trembling. Her hand slid from my throat to cup my cheek, sticky with sweat.
“Good boy,” she breathed, almost tender, before glancing back over her shoulder at James. “Don’t you dare stop. I want him to see you finish inside me.”
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Chapter 5c: The Finish
Ann was still shuddering, her fingers clutching the bedsheets as James drove into her with deep, relentless thrusts. Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her head still resting against mine. I could feel the heat radiating off her, the smell of sweat and sex filling the air.
James grunted behind her, low and guttural, his hips snapping forward harder now as he chased his own climax. Ann pushed back against him with a wanton cry, her moan turning into a wild, breathless laugh.
“That’s it, Daddy,” she gasped. “Give it to me. Let him see how good I am for you.”
James’s growl vibrated through the room, his fingers digging into her hips as he slammed forward one final time. His whole body tensed as he spilled into her, holding her flush against him until the last wave passed.
Ann trembled, exhaling a shaky, satisfied moan before slumping forward, catching herself on her hands. For a long moment the room was silent but for the sound of heavy breathing.
Then Ann looked up at me, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face.
“You’re going to thank me properly now, puppy.”
She crawled off James’s lap and sat on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide, her leather dress bunched up around her waist. I could see the slick mess between her thighs, the way it glistened under the light — proof of what I’d just been made to watch.
Ann reached down, trailing two fingers through herself with a soft, wet sound, then held them up for me to see before rubbing them over my lips.
“Lick,” she ordered, voice soft but merciless.
I hesitated for half a heartbeat — then obeyed, my tongue darting out to taste her, to taste him. The salt, the bitterness, the heat of her still-throbbing body hit me all at once. Ann watched me closely, her grin widening as she pushed her fingers deeper into my mouth until I sucked them clean.
“Good boy,” she purred. “Now use that mouth properly.”
She leaned back on her hands, guiding my head forward with a firm grip on my leash until my face was between her thighs.
“Clean me up,” she said, her tone laced with pleasure and command. “Every last drop.”
My stomach knotted, but I obeyed, my tongue sliding over her, licking her slowly, carefully, tasting the mix of James’s cum and her own slick arousal. Ann sighed contentedly, rolling her hips against my mouth, one hand resting casually on the back of my head as if I were nothing more than her favourite toy.
“That’s it,” she murmured, voice soft but dangerous. “Make me shine, puppy. Make me proud of you.”
James watched silently from the bed, a satisfied smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as Ann used me.
I worked until her thighs were clean, until there was nothing left but the taste of her on my tongue. Ann finally released her grip on my head, letting me pull back just enough to breathe.
She reached down, cupping my cheek with surprising gentleness, her thumb brushing over my lower lip.
“You hate that, don’t you?” she asked sweetly, almost mockingly.
“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
Her smile turned soft, affectionate — and cruel.
“And that’s why you’ll do it for me every time.”
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Chapter 6: The Aftermath
Ann sighed softly, a long, satisfied sound, then gently pushed my face back from between her legs.
“That’s enough,” she said, her voice warm but brooking no argument.
She leaned forward, her hand sliding over my cheek almost tenderly, before reaching for the dangling gag and pressing it back into my mouth. The leather straps tightened at the back of my head, snug and final, and the world went quiet around me again.
The blindfold followed, darkness swallowing me whole. I could only kneel there, bound and silent, my breathing shallow as I listened to the room.
Soft sheets shifting. The quiet creak of the bedframe. Ann’s giggle — low, girlish, conspiratorial. James’s deeper chuckle in response. I couldn’t hear the words, but whatever they were planning, it was about me.
Footsteps. Then Ann was suddenly behind me, her fingers threading into my hair, gripping tight enough to make me gasp behind the gag.
“Stay very still, puppy,” she murmured near my ear, her breath hot on my neck.
The gag was unbuckled and pulled free. I barely had a second to wet my lips before her command came, soft and merciless.
“Open wide.”
I obeyed, my jaw falling open as she held my head steady by the hair. I could feel the mattress shift as James approached, the air moving as he stepped close.
Then he was there — his cock thick, hard, pressing against my lips before sliding over my tongue.
“Clean him,” Ann ordered, her voice calm, sharp as a whipcrack. “Every drop of me.”
Humiliation burned through me, but I obeyed, licking, sucking, tasting every trace of her arousal as James groaned low above me. Ann’s hand in my hair never loosened, guiding me, keeping me where she wanted me as James thrust lazily into my mouth.
“That’s it,” she praised, her tone almost gentle. “Good boy. Make him shine for me.”
James grunted, his pace quickening slightly, his hand closing on the back of Ann’s neck for balance. The tension coiled tight in the air until he suddenly pulled free with a sharp sound, stroking himself once, twice, before finishing across my face in hot, sticky streaks.
Ann laughed — light, delighted — and let go of my hair so abruptly that I swayed forward.
For a long moment she just stood over me, silent, watching me kneel in the dark. Only when my breathing steadied did she crouch to wipe my cheek with her thumb.
“Perfect,” she said softly, running a finger through the mess on my cheek before smearing it lazily across my lips. “Just perfect.”
James gave a satisfied grunt as he grabbed his clothes. “You’ve got a good one,” he said, his tone half-admiring, half-dismissive.
Ann chuckled, low and knowing. “I know.”
She leaned down and kissed the top of my head — mockingly sweet — before straightening and turning to James.
“Thank you for coming,” she said politely, as though he’d just been over for coffee.
I heard the soft sounds of him dressing, the faint creak of the door opening, and then the quiet of the house returning as he left.
Ann stood over me for a long moment, saying nothing, just letting me kneel there, gag loose around my neck, blindfold in place, face sticky, breath still ragged.
“You did so well, puppy,” she said at last, her voice quiet, almost tender.
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Chapter 7: Her Puppy
The house had fallen utterly silent.
I stayed kneeling where she’d left me, head bowed, heart still hammering against the inside of my ribs. The gag hung loose around my neck, but the blindfold kept me in the dark, my breath loud in my own ears.
Then I felt her fingers — slow, gentle — undoing the knot at the back of my head. The blindfold slipped free, and the dim room swam back into view. Ann crouched in front of me, her expression softer now, the cruel edge melted into something slower, warmer.
She brushed her thumb along my cheek, wiping away the mess still streaked across my skin. “There you are,” she murmured, as if she’d been waiting to see me again.
Ann leaned in, kissing me — unhurried, claiming, not mocking this time but grounding. When she pulled back, she smiled.
“You did so well for me tonight, puppy.”
Her words landed like a balm, sinking through the ache in my chest.
Ann stood and reached for the key that still hung from the chain around her neck. “Let’s get you out of this,” she said softly, crouching again to unlock the cage. The cool metal slid away, leaving me tender, exposed, but strangely relieved.
She didn’t stop there — one by one she loosened the cuffs at my wrists and ankles, unfastened the spreader bar, working with calm precision until the last restraint clattered softly against the floor.
“Up,” she said gently, helping me rise on unsteady legs and guiding me onto the bed.
I collapsed back against the pillows, muscles loose, half-limp with exhaustion. Ann climbed in beside me, pulling me down until my head rested on her chest. Her fingers stroked through my hair, slow and absentminded, smoothing me back into place.
“You were perfect for me,” she whispered.
I let out a shaky sound — part sigh, part relief — and closed my eyes, letting the weight of her words sink in. Her touch was steady, constant, her other hand sometimes drifting to trace the line of my jaw or stroke over my collarbone, reminding me she was still there, still in control.
We stayed like that for a long time, the quiet stretching warm and heavy between us. My breathing slowed, matching hers, the storm inside me finally settling.
When Ann finally moved, it was with deliberate slowness. She shifted so she could look down at me, tilting my chin up with one finger until our eyes met. Her smirk had returned — softer now, but no less certain.
“You know what I need, puppy,” she murmured, guiding my hand until it rested at the hollow of her throat. “Make me yours again.”
The words sent a shiver through me. I curled my fingers lightly against her neck, feeling the flutter of her pulse under my palm. Her lashes lowered as she breathed in, slow and deliberate, offering herself to me.
Ann smiled, her lips curling into something playful. “Good boy,”
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this is truly publishing worthy.
