Various Persuasions

by AE Lister

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He obediently disrobed except for the panties. I had given him the choice of color and he’d chosen the pink ones. I wasn’t at all surprised.

  “I want you to practice your scales while I finish in the kitchen. Then you can make us some coffee.”

  He did what I’d asked, and when I was satisfied with his piano work, I let him get up.

  I eyed his erection. “Have you been hard since I talked to you last night?”

  He blushed. “No. Luckily it subsided in the night. But it came back as soon as I pulled into your driveway.”

  “Pavlov was a genius.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve heard of Pavlov? His dogs salivated at the ring of a bell.”

  “Oh. Right. So, I’m one of his dogs?”

  I blinked, and an idea formulated in my mind. “No. But maybe someday soon you’ll be mine.” I watched realization dawn on his face and answered it with a grin. “But first, coffee.”

  I had to say it was awfully nice to have someone make coffee while sporting only pink lace panties and an erection, especially someone like Vincent, who had a natural grace of movement about him. It was like a strange, perverted, breakfast ballet. Should I have gotten him to fry some eggs? I wasn’t really hungry but maybe he was?

  “Did you eat breakfast, Vincent?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “What was it?”

  “A banana.”

  “How interesting. Why don’t you fry a couple of eggs?”

  “Okay, Sir.”

  He got what he needed while the coffee spurted and I watched him with much enjoyment. He flipped one of the eggs and some of the grease splashed him on the belly. He hissed in pain. “Ow, shit.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Just not used to doing this naked.”

  “Well, I’m really enjoying the show. But you should probably wear this.” I grabbed a black apron from the cupboard and got him to step away from the stove for a second so I could slide the neck loop over his head and fasten the strings at his back. I took the opportunity to slide my fingers underneath the fabric of his panties just below and tickled the top of his crack. “There, your bits will be safe now.” I sat down again.

  “That’s good, Sir.” He wiggled his ass and I chuckled. Cheeky boy.

  “You are going to earn yourself a spanking before this day is through,” I said.

  He glanced at me with a grin. “Promises, promises.”

  God, there was this lightness that he brought to my home—an optimistic, sensual energy that I loved. The place had been unusually quiet and empty with him gone. Before he’d come over the past weekend, I hadn’t thought it was missing anything…hadn’t thought I was missing anything.

  When he’d finished, I had him put the eggs on a plate and bring them to me, along with a knife and fork. “Sit beside me,” I told him.

  He did.

  I picked up the fork and knife, cutting a small piece of fried egg and dipping it in the yolk. Picking it up, I blew on it to cool it. Then I held it out to him. “Open.”

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise but he opened his mouth and I carefully fed him the egg, watching his tongue lick the yolk off the fork as a jolt of arousal went through me. I hadn’t had that tongue on me yet—only his fingers.

  I fed him the rest of the egg, slowly, watching him lick and chew and swallow like it was a video I’d bookmarked on Pornhub, because it fucking well could have been. In fact, it was hotter than most of the things I’d seen on that site.

  When he finished, he licked his lips, and I pushed down the urge to do it for him. I wouldn’t kiss him. That would have taken this thing to another level and I wasn’t ready. I might never be ready. I was fully on board with the kink and humiliation, but real, genuine intimacy? That still scared the fuck out of me. I didn’t even know if he’d be on board with a kiss. Although he seemed to be up for whatever I threw at him.

  The question was, what would I throw at him today? I had promised him three orgasms, so I’d better get started. Perhaps some edging was in order. And, since he hadn’t had an orgasm since last Sunday, it wouldn’t be difficult to get him worked up in a short amount of time.

  “Let’s go downstairs.”

  He jumped up from the table as if he’d been waiting for this—which he probably had been.

  In the basement I showed him the slide-out panels on the spanking bench, then fastened him on his back with his knees bent and his feet on the padded platforms. It was kind of like a doctor’s exam table and I cuffed his ankles to the platforms so that he was spread for me. His wrists were cuffed to the legs of the bench. I didn’t blindfold him this time. I wanted him to see me in action.

  I picked up the quirt from the table and traced his lips with the end of it. He gazed up at me adoringly and obediently responded when I told him, “Open.”

  I trailed the end of the quirt into his mouth. “Suck.”

  He closed his mouth over it and sucked on the leather knot, rolling it in his mouth and biting on it. I saw his cock twitch and my body responded to this sensual image.

  “Very good.” Then, “Enough.”

  He parted his lips and I dragged the knot from his tongue, tracing his face and neck with it before gliding it over his chest. He dropped his chin to watch as I traced his nipples then glided it down his belly to drift over his arching cock.

  “Oh fuck. Oh God,” he panted as I teased him. I tickled his balls and buttocks before I put it down. I picked up the one with the long, flat tip and did the same thing. He sucked on the end of it lovingly, closing his eyes and acting like it was something intimately connected to me.

  “That’s very good, Vincent. You’d be good at sucking cock.”

  His eyes flew open and a blush ascended his neck and face.

  “Too bad I don’t have one of those. Because you’d be down on your knees right now with it deep in your throat.”

  As if in response, he sucked harder on the crop, making me crazy.

  “Fuck,” I said. “I want that mouth on me by the end of the day.”

  He moaned as I drew the crop out of his mouth and glided it down his body, the same path I had taken with the quirt. This time, I pulled it over his cock and down his balls and rubbed it over his pink pucker again and again until he groaned and his knees gaped.

  “Oh, hell yes,” I said. “This is what I’m going to play with today.”

  He inhaled a shaky breath and let his head fall back.

  I put the crop down and picked up a glove, pulling it on and snapping it in place. His whole body jerked at the noise. I watched his pink hole clench then relax. He wanted this badly. But we were going to start small.

  I held up a thin black vibe with a flared end. It wasn’t wide but it was long and undulated.

  “Vincent, look at me.”

  He lifted his head and his eyes widened when he saw it.

  “This is going in your ass.”

  His lips parted and his breaths came quicker. “Yes, Sir.”

  I grinned at how precious he looked tied down on my spanking bench, so very hard and excited, awaiting my fancy. I felt so lucky to have such a beautiful boy to play with. And I told him so.

  “Thank you, Sir,” he said, but I could tell he was desperate for me to begin.

  I picked up the bottle of lube and squeezed some onto his balls and perineum, then rubbed it with the tip of the vibe, sliding it up and down his taint to his hole and below his balls while he tensed in preparation for the invasion that was coming. I knew he had had bigger things than this skinny vibe in his hole but sometimes the smaller things felt even more depraved. And since the stretch was mild, the pleasure would be more obvious. It was a good place to start.

  I teased his hole with the tip, playing it around and pushing gently to open him. I nubbed it into him again and again as it slid in farther and farther. Eventually I was pushing it all the way in and pulling it out. He groaned and I could tell he loved
this so fucking much.

  So did I. I loved having him at my mercy, his hole displayed and his body restrained while I had my way.

  “Your hole is so pretty, Vincent. Pink and delicate and hungry…so hungry,” I crooned as I pushed the vibe in deep again, accompanied by a sweet sound from my oh-so-willing sub. This wasn’t any different from the way I’d have handled a woman in the same position, but I loved seeing his cock twitch and leak as I pushed the vibe in and out. There was something extra vulnerable about a guy on the bench.

  Women were fucking strong, contrary to stereotypes. They could take a lot of punishment if that were what they were into. I felt at once more dominant and more inclined to be gentle with Vincent, like I had a precious specimen that I had to treat carefully. And I did. He may well have wanted rougher treatment, but we’d start like this.

  After a few minutes of this, I pushed the vibe in smoothly all the way and held it deep, as I pressed the button to make it hum. It didn’t have much power but the gentle vibration was enough to make him whimper and caused his glans to emerge fully from its foreskin, a sight I found absolutely entrancing. It reminded me of a tulip blooming and, in fact, blushed a beautiful purple color.

  “Your cock likes this,” I said, reaching over and sliding my other hand over him, stroking gently.

  He cursed and pushed into my grip but I let go. “Not yet, sweetheart. We have miles to go.”

  I left the vibe nestled inside him, the flange peeking from between his pale cheeks, then picked up the standard crop, tapping his lips gently with the tip. “Open.”

  He did and I pushed it in his mouth as he sucked and licked at it. His gaze locked with mine as he slobbered and sucked on the crop like it was my dick. He knew what he was doing and must have noticed how it affected me. I was barefoot in a pair of leggings and a long black cotton men’s shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. I started to feel excessively hot as I watched his tongue lave the crop.

  “Enough,” I said in a gravelly voice. One side of his mouth crooked as I pulled the crop from his lips and I felt the need to chasten that smugness, to stop him from feeling like he could play me—although he totally could. He knew my weakness.

  I slid the wet tip of the crop to his nipple, pulled back and slapped it sharply—first on one brown bud then the other. He moaned and writhed on the bench.

  I dropped the crop, leaned forward and took one nipple into my gloved hand, the other in my bare hand, and squeezed.

  “Shit! Oh God,” he said, panting and throwing me a wide-eyed stare.

  “How do you like this?” I asked, squeezing harder.

  “You’re gonna make me come,” he grimaced.

  I released him and picked up the crop, deliberately showing him my ass as I bent over. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not yet. I want to torture you some more.”

  “You’re such a bastard,” he moaned.

  I straightened and gave him an evil grin. “Oh, you have no idea, Vincent.” Meanwhile, I was so pleased he’d called me a bastard rather than a bitch that I almost gave in. But, no. He had expectations for me to fulfill.

  I walked back to the business end of the bench where his legs were splayed and I could see the flange of the vibe. I traced the crop up and down the inside of each thigh, then peppered his sensitive skin with delicate but stinging strikes that made him try to close his knees. Such a pretty sight—but the small vibe needed upgrading.

  I put aside the crop and ran my hands down his thighs, soothing the heat. And because I couldn’t seem to resist, I ran my gloved and lubed hand along his pretty cock, pumping it roughly, making him groan.

  “Please make me come!” he begged. “I promise to be so good!”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering. If I got him off now, that gave him one of the orgasms I’d promised. And knowing Vincent’s recovery time, I could surely get him hard again with the other toys I had in my arsenal. In fact, taking my time playing with his ass while he regrouped would be highly entertaining. And he was just so desperate. He had been such a good boy this week.

  I let him go and walked around so I was standing beside his hip, gazing down at his exquisitely bound form, throbbing cock and spread knees.

  “You want me to get you off?”

  “Oh God, please. Please, Sir!”

  “If I do, I’m keeping you in this position and playing with your ass until you come a second time.”

  His eyes widened and he jerked in his restraints. “Is that supposed to scare me?” he panted. “Because it’s all I want in the world!”

  I actually laughed. I didn’t think I’d ever laughed when in Dom mode before. And maybe that was my fault. But something about Vincent brought it out of me.

  “Oh, Vincent, you cheeky boy. Let’s see how far you can shoot.” I squirted some lube into my ungloved left hand and wrapped it around his dick, stroking slowly to prime him, although I knew he was close.

  He dropped his head back on the bench, opened his mouth and made stuttering noises of bliss while I moved the skin of his cock back and forth over the glans. I was so glad he had a foreskin, because it made things so much easier. Zane had been cut, and even though I’d loved his cock, I think I liked Vincent’s better. And fuck Zane anyway.

  My right hand moved to the vibe in Vincent’s ass. I grabbed the flange and pulled gently, sliding it out of him as he emitted a deep groan and pushed into my hand. I speeded up the strokes on his cock as I slowly pushed the vibe back in and wiggled it.

  “No…no…” he stuttered, muscles tensing. He was right on the edge. He was probably scared of the potential power of his orgasm, as he should be.

  I pumped the vibe twice, hard, as Vincent yelled and semen arced from his glans to his nipples. His cock spurted again and kept spurting. His shout was so loud that I almost lost my rhythm, but I was experienced so I didn’t falter. His body convulsed around the small vibe as his dick jerked and spat onto my hand. And, yeah, I think it was definitely worth waiting a week for.

  I kept stroking him, milking him, until his cries quieted and his muscles relaxed. He whimpered and muttered and I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

  “I beg your pardon? Speak up, please,” I said in my best Dom voice as I pulled out the vibe and let it fall to the floor then brought my hands together to play with Vincent’s slippery emission. I was like a kid with slime, gleefully plying the strands and enjoying the texture. God, but men were fun.

  Vincent let out a frustrated groan as a remnant shudder took him. “Fuck you and your mad skills,” he said with his eyes closed. He opened them and watched me finger the spunk on his chest. “What are you doing?”

  I grinned. “Having fun. I don’t have a man come on my bench very often, you know—or at least I haven’t, only last weekend and today. I’m making the most of it. I didn’t realize I liked semen so much.” I pulled my hands apart to examine the fine strands.

  “You could feed it to me, Sir,” he said, shyly now. “If you want.”

  “It’s a little cold,” I replied, but suddenly that was all I wanted to do, especially since he’d asked. I stripped off the black glove and scooped up more splooge from his chest and belly—there was a lot—then rubbed it on his lips and pushed my fingers into his open mouth as he gazed at me with that look again.

  He sucked my fingers clean while jolts of desire shot through me, as though he were licking my cunt. My mouth opened and I made a small sound. His eyes widened and he sucked harder. I pulled my hand away and stepped back.

  Not yet, my pretty.

  “All right then. One down, two to go.”

  He watched me pad over to the cabinet and bring a few things over, then pull another glove from the box.

  “Back to business,” he murmured. His cock had subsided and leaned to one side, the glans hidden. It looked so vulnerable and sweet, but I was eager to get it excited again.

  I put on a glove, showing him the big silicone dildo with the textured surface, then hel
d up the string of medium-sized anal beads.

  He made a sound then cursed.

  “Okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” I put them down and grabbed a glove for my other hand. “But I want to have a little fun first and I need to get you good and horny before we get serious.” I lifted my hands and waggled my fingers. “Besides, nothing beats a few fingers in the ass as foreplay.” I knew this from personal experience and suddenly I remembered Vincent’s long fingers on the piano keys. One day maybe, when I trusted him enough… Meanwhile, I was thrilled to have him at my mercy.

  Chapter Ten

  “God, yes,” he said in post-orgasmic tones. “Please.”

  I made a clicking noise with my tongue. “So very polite. You are such a good boy.”

  I moved to the bottom of the bench. “I’m going to bind you a bit differently for this,” I told him. In a few minutes I had his legs bent at the knee and his ankles cuffed to his thighs so Vincent was spread wide and vulnerable to whatever I had in mind.

  “Oh God, Sir,” he said, “Oh fuck.”

  “You like that, sweetheart?” I asked, knowing he loved it more than anything. “You like being tied down and spread open for me?”

  “Fuck. Oh God.” He jerked his wrists against the legs of the bench as if he wanted to sit up and look at himself spread out for me like a pinned butterfly. But he couldn’t, so he just let his head fall back and moved it slowly from side to side.

  For my own comfort, I asked if he wanted to safeword. I could tell he was completely turned on, although not hard yet, but sometimes a sub needed to safeword because they were overwhelmed, even though it was with good feelings.

  He panted. “No. God, no. Nope.”

  “I’ll take the head movements for something positive then. Since you can speak, don’t hesitate to safeword if you need to, Vincent. Tell me what your safeword is?”

  “Piano,” he grunted and his breathing quickened. His cock had begun to wake up, just from the bondage and anticipation. I hadn’t even touched his ass yet, but that was about to change.

  I walked to the end of the bench and gazed at the pleasing sight of his legs in the air and his ass spread for me, so fucking vulnerable and so fucking pretty.