Twisted Fairy Tale
The Gingerbread Man Part 2
Walking behind him she buckled cuffs to his wrists.“Have you ever worn a collar?” Her domineering tone thrilled him.
Having escaped from a nightmare booking, to the home of an alluring redhead, the Gingerbread man submits eagerly to her brand of kink
He didn’t have to wait long for his hostess to reappear, but now she was naked except for the long laced boots and a body harness of leather straps. Her beautiful red hair was tied more tightly than before. She’d undone her plait and re-fastened it so red waves cascaded from the crown of her head to swing between her shoulder blades like a tail. He noticed her bush was red too, neatly trimmed to a sparse triangle. It was framed by two straps which disappeared between her legs but most likely left access to her pussy. His cock eagerly bobbed and swelled in appreciation of the firm, toned flesh on display and her dominant demeanour, too right his luck had changed.
“Turn around,” she commanded, while studying him like a racehorse. “Kneel.”
He sank to his knees, spreading his legs and putting his hands behind his back, this was standard submissive stuff. Even when she fastened a blindfold over his eyes, he was not concerned.
“Pleasure me,” she instructed, “But don’t use your hands.”
Scenting the air, he followed the sweet fragrance of her moist pussy, almost level with his nose, to commence licking, sucking and nibbling. With his tongue he eagerly worshipped her juicy folds. He sucked and chafed her clit, teasing moans and curses from her with his oral skills. Although his jaw ached and his tongue strained, and she clamped his face against her pussy when she climaxed, Gingerbread man only stopped laving on her command.
“Very good,” she purred.
“Stand” she commanded and he rose to his feet, glad to feel the circulation returning to his legs.
Walking behind him she buckled cuffs to his wrists.“Have you ever worn a collar?” Her domineering tone thrilled him.
“No,” he shook his head.
She gripped his chin so forcefully, that he wanted to wince. “Address me as Mistress!”
“No Mistress,” he corrected his answer.
She released her grip to trail her hand down his neck and across his chest, before grasping his nipple with pincer fingers.
“Do you like pain?” Her voice now held menace. Before he could answer she laughed triumphantly. “I see you do! Your pathetic little peeny has given the game away!” She delivered a slap to his cock which stung like hell, yet had him throbbing with increased desire.
She gripped both his nipples firmly, tightening her fingers and pulling to elongate the nubs of flesh, which the Gingerbread Man did his best to endure, suppressing his groan of pleasure tinged with pain.
Mistress left him kneeling, while her heels clicked away along the poolside. When she returned she fastened both nipples with some sort of clamps and when she pulled agonizingly on both at once, Gingerbread Man guessed they were linked by a chain across his chest. Next he felt something slide around his neck. Her leather strapped breast brushed his face and he felt a tightening at his throat as he was fastened into his first collar.
“Pretty” she remarked with satisfaction.
The Gingerbread Man did indeed feel pretty, he was in his happy place. An attractive woman was dominating him, with some light bondage and a little pain. His nipples were tingling and his penis throbbed, probably dribbling precum, but if she edged him right, he could teeter on the brink of lust and satisfaction for hours. He very much enjoyed the anticipation and feeling slightly off balance. Wearing a blindfold or with a new playmate made it harder to guess what would happen next. That frisson felt both dangerous and exciting.
He felt a tug at his neck, as his mistress pulled on his collar. He stumbled, wanting to follow her but unsure where he was in relation to the water.
“Mistress, I can’t swim.”
This confession always filled him with shame. The usual taunts ran through his head. What sort of a grown-up can’t swim nowadays? Especially one who spends hours in the gym making their body look like an athlete’s.
“Pathetic,” she responded, but using the collar she guided him. Soon she commanded him to sit, and he tentatively lowered himself into a pool lounger.
“What are we going to do with this pathetic little thing?” she questioned.
He sensed his erection was engorged and throbbing, most likely with pre-cum gathering at its apex. No-one had been disappointed by his manhood before, but his current vulnerability, combined with her words made him doubt himself.
When suddenly warmth and wetness encompassed his knob, he instinctively knew she’d taken him into her mouth. To his surge of delight she sucked and licked, her tongue teasing round the frenulum, hands pulling gently on his ball sac. Then her ministrations stopped and there was silence.
“It’s not getting any bigger? Is that the best you can offer me?”
Her cruel words cut like a knife, she tugged on the chain between his nipples, making him squirm in tortured excitement.
“Lean back,” she commanded as she pushed him to a reclining position which was not at all comfortable with his arms fastened behind him. She continued to fellate him, letting her mouth get really slobbery. She pumped her lips up and down his length, from its sensitive tip to almost swallowing him whole. The soft tissue at the back of her throat caused restraint around his helmet causing Gingerbread man to marvel at her fellating skills.
Wearing the blindfold and with his hands restrained, Gingerbread man began to imagine himself as a disembodied cock, allowing his entire focus to pinpoint his foxy Mistress’ oral skills. She drew her mouth up and down, with her lips sealed against his cock’s circumference. Her mouth and throat were tight around his glans as she sucked. Very soon the tingling and pulling anticipation rushed through his body.
The Gingerbread Man grew dizzy with pressure building in his core, when his balls tightened, he was ready to shoot his load. But Mistress maintained a relentless oral assault, bobbing in place while wriggling a finger under him. She traced it past the pad of his perineum to snake into his anus. When she continued pressing and wheedling it in, she was soon massaging his p-spot. Holy cow! Unable to hold back — he came undone.
His prick let fly ropes of hot, urgent spunk, while she held him steady in her mouth. Engulfing his length, she swallowed all he had to offer. He seemed to come and come. His straining cock pumped gobs of pearlescent, salty liquid into the warm tunnel of his mistress’ greedy mouth, and the foxy lady gobbled him right up.
Later that night the Gingerbread Man finally admitted to himself things would never be the same, he would not go home to his old life, his new mistress had sunk her claws deeply into him. He had agreed willingly to her locking his pathetic cock into a cage. Now she owned his body, his orgasms, even his arousal.
In the dark, he did not dare think of her beautiful body or any of the sexy, yet humiliating things she’d done to him over the last few hours, for fear of his member stiffening in the confines of its restrictive cage. He tried to get comfortable in the single bed in the bare room she’d allocated him, far from the escort life he was used to and the people he’d known. But Gingerbread Man sighed with contentment, there was safety under her control.
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