I pushed him off the bed and watched him crawl over to my panty drawer. He hardly ever had let me fuck him with my strap-on when we were dating — but that was the only kind of fucking we were going to do tonight. He was going to get fucked . . . hard.
On his knees, he held it out to me . . . his palms were already getting sweaty, clammy. I could see the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was nervous . . . and I knew he was excited, too.
“Take your pants off, bitch.”
He clumsily undid his belt buckle, his hands trembling with anticipation and fear.
“Faster, you fucking idiot.” I laughed as I watched him scramble to pull them off. I was going to get a good laugh tonight AND an orgasm out of his little show he was going to put on for me, whether he liked it or not.
“Open up.”
I stared at him, my eyes full of hatred. I think he was scared. He gave out a little whimper of fear as his lips parted . . . but they weren’t quite far enough apart yet for me to force my whole strap-on down his throat!”
“More than that, you STUPID, stupid fuck . . . ” but before I had finished my sentence, my hands (possessed by this hateful rage) were grabbing the back of his head and forcing his face down for his long-overdue forced cocksucking session.
“Slurp it up, bitch . . . that’s going to be your lube. You don’t get to use my fancy shit anymore, you disgusting ingrate . . . you don’t DESERVE it. Do you??”
I love to ask my submissives questions while my cock is rammed all the way down their throat . . . right before I punish them, humiliate them more for not answering quickly or “articulately” enough. Ha ha. That joke NEVER stops being funny!
I listened to the sounds of him choking on his own spit and my cock as he desperately tried to match the pace of his sucking with my brutal, frenzied pulling off his head back and forth and sliding my dick down to the back of his throat — occasionally taking it out to slap him across the face with it. His stupid, ugly face . . . that still made me so wet. My blood boiled even more . . . and my puddle of cum underneath my strap-on training queen seat on the bed got wetter.
I knew he could smell it, too.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
