“Please…”
“You’ve been so good,” she whispers before licking a circle around the head again. Her free hand reaches between my legs, massaging the space between my ass and balls, making me whimper. Then, she takes my sac in her palm, pulling it down enough to cause a little pain.
“I’m so close,” I cry. “Maggie, please.”
“Maggie?” she asks after she pops her mouth off my throbbing cock.
Fuck. I blew it. “Ma’am, I mean. I’m sorry. Ma’am, please.”
She makes a tsking sound as she stuffs my aching erection back in my tight black briefs. “I almost gave in, but I need to learn to be more strict with you. I can’t be spoiling you. No matter how much I want to.”
The idea of being trained and spoiled isn’t so weird to me anymore. Two months ago, I would have thought this was the strangest relationship in the world—in fact, I did, but now? I get it. Everything between me and Maggie is natural, easier than a regular relationship. With other women, I had no boundaries, no rules, no consequences. I was a bratty kid alone in a candy shop, and I wreaked so much havoc.
So I don’t complain much when she denies me my orgasm again. If she wants to keep me under control, then I’ll let her.
She glances down at her watch. “We have to start getting ready. The rehearsal starts in an hour.”
I slump against her desk. I’ve been dreading this weekend all month.
“Before you get dressed, I bought you something.”
Pausing with a mix of fear and curiosity, I watch as she spins in her chair and pulls a small box out of a discreet black bag. “Open it,” she says as she drops the box on the desk between us.
Getting a strange black box from your Domme is never really a good sign because you never know if it’s a reward or a punishment, but I’m too curious to resist. When I peel back the top, I stare down at a silver wire-shaped dick that’s hollow inside and has a ring at the end of it. “What is it?”
She lifts it from the box. “It’s a cage.”
“For my dick?”
A devilish grin pulls one side of her mouth up into a crooked smile. “Since I can’t exactly be your Domme this weekend, I needed something to remind you that you belong to me. Hopefully, this will keep you in line, so you behave.”
“I did behave,” I argue.
She tilts her head to the side. “You made a fool of yourself at the engagement party, and you flirted with Charlie’s cousin at the bridal shower. Tonight, you will be nothing but obedient and well behaved. The cage is there to remind you.”
“I can’t get hard with this on,” I point out. To which she laughs.
“Sort of the point, babe.”
“Are you still hard?” she asks, peering down at my cock. It’s almost fully deflated, and thinking about putting this thing on isn’t really helping. Why does any mention of the kinky shit she wants to do to me make me instantly aroused?
It takes me a few minutes of deep breathing and clearing my mind to get it to go away, but the minute she tries pulling my briefs down, the blood starts flowing again.
“I can’t do this if you keep touching me,” I say with a moan. She laughs again.
“Better figure it out.”
“Well, if you let me finish…” I reply, but she gives me a harsh glare in response.
“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to come today at all.” It’s a warning, because I’m being mouthy. And I know better, but I can’t help it. She puts me in these situations, and my natural instinct is to talk back.