Plaything

by Cole Denton

  “Mistress Elise, may I ask something?”

  “You may.”

  “Would you like me to start a fire in the fireplace?”

  Elise looked up at me and then at the fireplace. She seemed to really be considering the fire. It didn’t seem like such a difficult question, especially since she was obviously cold. Elise looked distance and as though she weren’t really even here in the room with me.

  “Mistress,” I coaxed.

  She blinked a few times before dragging her eyes away from the fireplace to look at me. She nodded and went back to her book. I set my paperback down on the coffee table and went to the fireplace. As I grabbed a few logs, I noticed that they were covered in cobwebs. I grabbed some newspaper from the metal basket beside the logs, balled it up and stuffed it under the grate and logs. I found some long matches next to the fireplace tools and used one to light the fire. I took the iron poker tool from the holder and moved some of the newspapers around to ignite it and spread it around. Once I was satisfied, I put the poker back in its place and stood back to take a look.

  “Go wash your hands,” Elise instructed.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  When I returned, she quickly looked away from the fire and went back to her paperback. I picked my novel up from the coffee table and sat down on the floor with my back to the cushion that she had directed me to. I welcomed the aches that I felt when my ass cheeks made contact with the floor. I loved the aches that came the day following impact play.

  My eyes roamed the fireplace mantle. Tucked inside two triangular wooden boxes were an American flag and a fire association flag. I recognized the emblem on the fire flag as the same one on some of the magnets, the tall mugs, and shot glasses in the kitchen. There was also a glass fire truck that had absorbed the light from the fireplace. It now flickered and glowed orange and yellow.

  When I felt Elise’s hand on my head, I pulled my gaze from the fireplace and looked down at my book. She stroked my hair and twirled some around her fingers. I had been deep into a chapter when she spoke up out of the blue.

  “That fireplace has not been lit since Jacob’s death.”

  I looked at the fire that danced brightly in the fireplace. Had I touched a chord that wasn’t ready to be touched? She could have told me not to start the fire. She has had no issue voicing directions so far, so I have to believe that if she truly didn’t want a fire, that she would have told me.

  Elise continued to play with my hair and remained quiet while she read. Though, I had a feeling that she wasn’t really reading. I think she was staring at a page in a book, hiding while she thought about Jacob. I decided to make another attempt at connecting with her and showing her that I’ve been there too. Maybe she’d open up a little.

  “After my mother died, my dad and I avoided the kitchen table. When she was alive, we always sat down together as a family for dinner each night. When she died, it was too much for us to sit at the table.”

  “That is twice now you’ve offered me information that I haven’t asked for,” she said in a bored to death tone.

  I opened my mouth to say that it was okay to avoid something for a while and that it was part of the grieving process. But I decided against saying that. Instead, I apologized for my error.

  “Forgive me, Mistress Elise, for talking about things that weren’t asked of me.”

  We sat in silence for a while, and again I was able to engross myself with my novel. When I glanced up from my book, something on the lower shelf of the coffee table by my foot caught my eye. It was the book about grief that I gave to Liz to give to Elise months ago. Without asking for permission, I started to move towards it, but her hand locked around my hair.

  “Sorry, Mistress,” I apologized.

  “Where were you going?”

  “I was going to pick up the book that I sent to you. I spotted it on the lower shelf. I am sorry, though. I shouldn’t have moved without your permission.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. You will be punished,” she said and tossed her paperback down on the cushion be her feet.

  The thrill of being punished washed over my body. I was excited and ready as she got off the couch.

  “Stand and wait for me,” she instructed and left the room.

  My mind raced, wondering what she would come back with. Would it be the crop? A flogger? A whip? Mmm, it had been ages since I had been whipped. I would love a whipping. Or flogging. Both of those would leave feelings that would last for a few days and would feel great on my back. Eagerly I looked at her hands when she came back into the room.

  A paddle? We just did the paddle last night. I was still bruised from the paddle. She wouldn’t use the paddle two days in a row, would she? I quickly thought back to play with James and other partners. None of them used the same impact toy back to back. They always gave a day or two for healing. I almost showed the shock and confusion on my face, but I think I kept it in check.

  In her other hand, she twirled something attached to a metal ring. Elise stopped in front of me and set the paddle down on the table and then held the ring up for me to see. Now that she wasn’t twirling it around, I could see what it was; a urethra plug. It was one of the ultimate bad boy punishing toys. While I was excited about this, I was nervous too.

  Elise opened the cock cage and set it on the coffee table while she held my cock in her hand. I felt myself harden as she slipped the small metal ball bearing from the plug into her mouth to moisten in.

  “Have you ever experienced one of these?” she asked as soon as she removed it from her mouth.

  “No, Mistress Elise.”

  She smiled as she slipped the snug ring around the head of my cock. She pulled back the sides of the head to open the slit, and then as she pushed the ball bearing into my dick, the outer ring came to rest under the crown of my dick. The feeling was intense and uncomfortable. I may have started to see spots as Elise closed up the cock cage around my shaft. Everything was tight, and though it was uncomfortable, the dirty cravings deep in me were celebrating.

  “There. Now, we don’t reach for things without permission, Andrew, is that understood?”

  “Yes, Mistress Elise,” I confirmed that I had learned my lesson.

  I began to relax a little because I thought that there was a good chance she was just messing with my head by bringing out the paddle. She was just trying to scare me.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” she directed.

  I didn’t hesitate, but my mind began racing as I recalled how bruised my ass was from last night. My ass cheeks were still deep red colored with some areas of purple. Tomorrow I’d see hints of blue perhaps. And if she was going to add to that now…well, I could be in some serious trouble for work tomorrow.

  “You will count out loud and will stop when you reach thirty,” Elise stated as she brought the paddle to my ass.

  “Thirty,” I repeated.

  I tried hard not to make it sound like a question, but really, I wanted her to stop for a moment and think. Maybe if she heard me say the total back to her that she’d stop and realize that thirty swats from a wooden paddle after giving me twenty-five not even twenty-four hours ago, wasn’t a wise idea. Especially given how bruised I was.

  On my hands and knees, I could feel the pressure in my dick from this urethra plug. I started to sweat a little as I wondered what a jarring motion would feel like in my dick while plugged like it was. Elise patted my ass with the paddle. The paddle bounced against my bruised skin, gradually becoming firmer. Then the first real swat struck. It caught me unexpectedly, and I lunged forward from the pain. There wasn’t a warning or warm-up strike, it suddenly happened.

  “One,” I gritted out.

  Smack!

  “Two! Ow!” I hissed, and in a knee jerk reaction, I reached back for my tailbone that she hit. I was sure she hit it in error, or due to poor aim.

  Since I moved out of position, she went into this small fit of anger and hit the upper part of my ass near my lower back
with the paddle.

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  Fuck! I recalled when she hit Joshua on his lower back. It instantly drew James to his side.

  “Did I tell you to move?” Elise yelled.

  “No, Mistress,” I began, but she cut me off.

  “You are not to move. What number are we on?” she barked.

  I had hoped she would have stopped and thought about what she was doing. She hadn’t even given me the time between the first and second swat to recover my position, then she hit me in rapid succession, grazing my lower back.

  “What number, Andrew?”

  “Two,” I said weakly.

  “What? Are you certain?”

  “Five.” Shit. “Five, Mistress Elise. Five.”

  “We’ll start over since you’re unsure.”

  The spray from the shower made the skin on my ass feel like it was being cut open. Damage from yesterday’s punishment stacked on top of the prior day had left me feeling worn out. My entire ass had been paddled to a pulp. Most of it was red, with areas that had broken blood vessels and actual cuts. My ass hurt so much that I wasn’t able to wash over the flesh with the sponge. Instead, I had to press the sponge against my back so the suds would cascade down.

  As I stood in the shower, I began to wonder how I’d make it through a day of work. Thankfully, my job was to stand and fill coffee orders, but my skin was on fire. I welcomed the cool air in the garage while I got dressed for work. I stood in my boxer briefs and gently pressed the palm of my hand against my ass. I could feel bumps and knew they were welts forming. I was concerned because I had never been this wrecked before. Though, I had never played with someone who played with so much emotion.

  It wasn’t a completely bad thing. Elise just needed to control it, and I would help her with that.

  10

  Elise

  I smiled at how beautiful the pale pink corset looked on me in the mirror as Andrew cinched it together along my back. I hadn’t been able to wear this one until now because it required an extra set of hands to help me into it.

  Suddenly, something bumped the top of my bare ass. Was that his cock? Annoyed, I turned my head and looked down. Sure enough, his cock bobbed around as he helped me into my corset.

  “Sorry, Mistress Elise,” Andrew apologized.

  “I asked you to help me into my corset, not rub your filthy cock against me.”

  “I apologize, Mistress.”

  Thankfully, I had Jacob’s crop on the dresser from last night’s discipline session. I wrapped my hand around the worn handle that Jacob had gripped so many times before and brought the leather tip down on Andrew’s cock.

  “You’re a bad, dirty man, Andrew,” I reprimanded before I took the crop to his cock again.

  He reacted just as I had hoped. Andrew’s pupils dilated, and he reached down for his cock to protect it from Jacob’s crop, all while a playful smile danced on his face.

  “I have an appointment for a massage this afternoon. I’ll be gone before you need to leave for work,” I advised Andrew.

  On my massage days, I preferred to go to the appointment already somewhat relaxed. I found that when I did, I’d ended up getting more out of it. Massage days often were some of my extreme days that started with me dressing up in the morning to discipline my pillow sub, followed by some personal time with a dildo. It helped to relieve tension, but I have Andrew now to help reduce some of that tension. He has been an excellent replacement for my pillow sub.

  “I’d like to go to the appointment relaxed,” I told him as I set the crop down on the dresser. I opened the drawer, selected a thick dildo, and tossed it on the bed. I picked up the metal cock cage that was sitting next to the crop and motioned for Andrew to follow me to the bed.

  As I sat down on the bed and snapped the dark metal cock cage shut over Andrew’s shaft, a thrill of power ran rampant through me. I loved controlling when he could or couldn’t become visibly aroused. I enjoyed having Andrew roaming through the house, giving my eyes something exciting to look at and a body to toy with.

  I rolled over to situate my knees close to the edge of the bed and then bent at the waist to lean over onto my hands and knees. My pussy was on display for my plaything.

  “Make it good, Andrew. Use that mouth and my toy to make me come before my massage.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he replied.

  Andrew wasted no time and buried his face between my legs. It was wonderful having a young man who was so interested in pleasing me with his mouth. And Andrew was very good with his mouth.

  He flattened his tongue and slowly traced my puffy lips. Andrew’s tongue darted inside to massage me. Soon, he pushed the thick dildo into my soaked pussy. He fucked me with the thick toy while he teased and licked my clit. I held nothing back, and as soon as I felt the orgasm draw closer, I moved my hips toward Andrew so the dildo would go deeper.

  “Fuck!” I flung my head back and arched my spine as the orgasm crashed over me. I collapsed forward and laid face down with my eyes closed to catch my breath. “You have a very good mouth, Andrew. You were very much appreciated today. Remove the toy, clean it, and then return it to the dresser drawer, then start a bubble bath for me. Come get me when the bath is ready,” I instructed.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  I still was seeing stars even after I heard Andrew come back into the bedroom and return the dildo to the dresser drawer. While the water was filling the tub, I began to do something that I thought I would never do; compare Andrew to Jacob. Specifically, it was only in the oral sex department, but still, I grew angry at myself for doing such a thing.

  I pulled myself off the bed and angrily stalked into the bathroom. Andrew was down on one knee leaning over the tub, swirling his hand and forearm in the water to help make bubbles multiply faster. I was angry that he had been so good at eating me out that now I was comparing him to Jacob.

  “Get out of the way, Andrew,” I said and tugged his head out of the way by grabbing his hair.

  “I was making sure the temperature was okay, and the bubbles were plenty, Mistress.”

  “Did I ask you to do either?” I scolded.

  Andrew stood with a frown on his face. The lights in the bathroom reflected my dried pussy juice that remained on his face.

  “Well? Did I?”

  I was furious at myself for comparing him to Jacob and even more furious that I was staring at the evidence of where his face had been.

  “I’ll take care of the bath. Just undo my corset and then get out of my face. Wash your fucking face when you leave my room.”

  Why was I snapping at him?

  “Yes, Mistress,” Andrew murmured and quickly undid my corset.

  I stared at the growing heap of bubbles through watery eyes. I felt an overwhelming amount of hate and disgust. The worst part about it was that I wasn’t sure if I felt those things towards Andrew, or myself.

  Andrew loosened my corset and then left the room as I had asked. Even though Andrew had given me an incredible orgasm, I was no longer relaxed. I tried to get my emotions under control while I was in the bath and then got dressed in some leggings and a t-shirt. I still had a few hours before I needed to leave for the appointment, so I decided to go read for a little while. Reading has a calming effect on me, so I thought that would do the trick. I also thought that I needed to be around Andrew, so he didn’t think I hated him. I couldn’t hate that mouth of his, though I felt guilty for loving it.

  When I went into the living room, he was sitting on the floor next to the coffee table. In his hands, he held that grief book that he had given to Liz to bring to me. I had thumbed through it, but at the time, I was too upset and in denial that I couldn’t stand the idea of grieving. Andrew had handwriting throughout the book in various places. I assumed it had been his handwriting. I don’t even know why I kept the damn book. Maybe I kept it so Liz would see that I was grateful for this little book that our barista sent to me. Seeing the book in Andrew’s hands brought my
anger to the surface again.

  The only thing that prevented me from wanting to tear that book out of his hands was the sexy sight of him as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the front of the couch. Andrew’s legs were bent at the knees and parted. This gave me a clit throbbing view of the metal cock cage as it rested over his balls. When he saw me, he slowly closed the book and leaned forward to put it back on the lower shelf of the coffee table. I was empowered that my presence instilled a feeling of caution in him.

  “Andrew, you can read that if you’d like. It’s your damn book, after all. I’m going to read my novel as well.”

  “Thank you, Mistress,” he said and leaned back against the couch and opened the book again.

  I put my hand on his head in a gesture to show him that I was trying to make up for yelling at him in the bathroom and telling him to get out of my face. Andrew had hair that could keep my hands busy. It was much softer than Jacob’s had been.

  I did it again.

  I closed my eyes and pulled my hand away from Andrew’s head as I compared Andrew and Jacob yet again.

  “Mistress?”

  When I opened my eyes, Andrew had twisted his body around and was looking at me. He had his book open and face down over his knees, and his hand rested on the couch cushion near my hip.

  “Is everything okay, Mistress Elise?” he asked.

  I didn’t want him to see me upset, nor did I want the conversation to go any deeper. I cleared my throat to ensure my voice wasn’t going to sound funny or give my emotions away.

  “Everything is just fine, Andrew. Read your book.” When he turned around, I added, “I’m sure it’s a lovely book.

  “Didn’t you read some of it, Mistress Elise?” he asked as turned back around to face me.

  “No. I didn’t,” I snapped.

  His face fell. It was as though hearing that was more painful to him than anything that I had physically done to him.

  “Oh,” he said under his breath.

  I wasn’t going to let him make me feel bad for not reading his grief book. Since I knew that he got the book when his mom died, I tried to show a little compassion, though he hadn’t been the only one to lose someone.