Forced fellatio - Part 1
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Text originally published in La FéruleLeaf stripper section.
1er November, 9:34 p.m.
"Azul,
This is the theme of my first November challenge: hold the head during fellatio. Guess the fantasy I have about it and write it down for me in detail. Your copy is due tomorrow morning, 9 a.m., without delay or spelling mistakes.
Sweet night to you (proof that we can wish for tenderness without offering much)."
November 2, 08:56 a.m.
" Mistress,
Hold your head during fellatio, you write. Such a challenge calls for at least four variations! One of them, I hope, will correspond to Your fantasy. If so, it's up to me to guess which one, on pain of punishment. If I'm wrong, it's up to You to punish me. In other words, there's a good chance that You'll punish me...
First declination.
On my bed, tied crosswise to the iron posts, I had to surrender my body to You. You hit me, bit me, pinched my nipples so hard that their brown is mingled with red, marks of war that will remind You of me for a long time (as if I were capable of forgetting You anyway). Not yet satiated with my little self, You caress me to force me to get hard again. My hips follow Your tempo, my wrists pull on their chains.
At this moment, I only have one dream: that Your mouth invites itself into the dance, to hold Your head during fellatio (yes, hold Your head, Mistress!). This freedom, however virtual, will undoubtedly earn me a sound thrashing...). Far from my fantasies, I'm reminded of the sad reality that I'm just a poor, shackled submissive incapable of controlling myself. The proof? As Your fingers squeeze my glans, I explode without warning. You stand up, furious, and slap me with the cum I'm forced to swallow.
I too have a duty to taste my juice.
Thank you, Mistress.
Second declination.
After a trip to the sex shop, in my stairwell. The timer goes off. Total darkness. Silence. You laugh, that cruel little laugh I've learned to dread. No time for fear, you grab me by the hair, drag me across the landing and force me to kneel against a door. Skirt up, you press your sex against my face. Your scent is strong, almost suffocating. I breathe you in.
Again your laughter. My fear again. I hear you fumbling, rummaging through the shopping bag, tearing open a package. Is it the handcuffs, the martinet, a heavy-gauge dildo? I have my suspicions, but Yours will exceed my expectations.
You take a step back. Deprived of Your juices, I open my mouth to protest. You thrust your fingers in to lower my jaw and plant a silicone monster. Thick. Long. Stiff. Relentless. Forward, backward, its piston strokes fill me to the point of nausea.
- Apply yourself, Azul! You order me when I'm about to vomit.
To obey You better, I crouch down, my neck straight, and take Your hands. I need their warmth as well as your encouragement. Hold my head during fellatio, Madame, or I'll never succeed in my mission! You, who know me to be a perfectionist, laugh. I apply myself.
The timer turns back on. A door opens on the top floor. I'd like to implore You to stop my ordeal, it's Louise, my charming next-door neighbor, but, with my mouth stuffed, I'm incapable. Did you even hear her cavalcade up the stairs? I doubt it. Your frenzy to smash me abolishes all that is not the coming and going of my teeth to my throat.
Your pace quickens. I'm suffocating. This time, I'm going to vomit. And die. Of shame.
Louise gets closer. She's now on the floor above us, about to turn the corner, surprise us... You pull away roughly from my throat, throw the dildo into the shopping bag and force me to lift my chin.
I greet the beautiful intruder with her drool-stained face.
Third declination.
In Your bedroom on a Saturday morning. You're wearing Your pretty turquoise pyjamas and I'm wearing my only Adam outfit. My heavy leash connects my submissive collar to the ajar window. Transi, I protest. You threaten to gag me because, you say, my whims, like my demands, are inappropriate.
"A real sissy, Azul!" You scoff. My rebellious "Sissy, really?" earns me a slap in the face. Deserved, I agree, but you know me: I can't help it, I've got to take it back and apologize for it. And now You're threatening to open the curtains. Since I know you're perfectly capable of doing that, I whisper in a very small voice. You stare at me with that terrible look between disappointment, malice and anger, before making a decision: draw just one curtain, just one, to show myself to the eyes of the building opposite while You remain invisible.
- Recriminations, sissy ?
You're leaning towards me, barely, taking care to remain hidden. Are you afraid of the neighbors? I smile, I didn't know You were so reserved... My new insolence has earned me my punishment.
One, You're blindfolding me.
Two, You're squeezing my collar.
Three, You jerk me off by slapping me around. Blinded, strangled, excited, I topple forward. You hold me back, mocking my clumsiness. Stung to the core, I sulk.
- Susceptible, sissy?
Susceptible, yes. I try to escape your grip (to go where? Mystery!), lose my balance and topple for good against your legs. My leash tightens. My collar chokes me. I gurgle. I cough.
- Get back in position, you sissy!
I struggled to my feet, probably too slowly: a hail of blows rained down on my head, my chest, my penis, my balls, my legs. Not a single part of my body is spared! My little cries of pain unleash your hilarity.
You're twisting my nose. You kiss me. You jerk me off. You whisper that you're going to tie me up like a piglet, with leg twine, then fuck me in the window, then call the neighbors to witness my skewering and deliver me, with all four legs open, to the assaults of the best-armed.
- You'll have reason to squeal, sissy! They'll be taking turns up your ass to spurt on you. As for stopping them, don't count on it: I'll encourage them before I fuck the winner!
I cry with rage and lust.
- Frustrated, sissy?
My pride swallows my sobs.
- Open your mouth! Big one!
You stick your right hand in up to the guard, blocking my head with your left.
- Move it! Move it! Enjoy! One, two, three, four...
Five, I explode screaming. Abandoned to Your embrace, I weep with gratitude. You lick my tears like a satisfied sissy.
Fourth declination.
Sorry Mistress, this number is unassigned... Why? You put the ball gag on me.
Sincerely yours,
Azul."
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Madame Lule, may not be used, in whole or in part, without my permission.
Written by Madame Lule, Dominatrix in Paris.
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