“Fuckin’ A.”
When he returns a few minutes later he’s already erect. So I wet a washcloth with cold water. “Hands on the counter. Lean over and spread ’em.”
He assumes the position, gasping at the shock of the cold, wet washcloth engulfing his balls and his morning erection, instantly shrinking him.
I make quick work of locking the silicone chastity cage on him and using a zip-tie to secure it instead of a metal lock. I don’t know if he’ll have to pass through any metal detectors today and trying to explain a metal cock cage would be…complicated.
His head droops, eyes closed, lips slightly parted while the rapid rise and fall of his chest betrays his excitement, his lust.
His need.
I lean in. “Do you remember my order to you last night, Mr. Walsh?”
“Yes, Mister President.”
“I’ll allow you briefs so you don’t make a mess in your slacks.” Reaching between his legs I grab the chastity cage and gently shake it, making Jordan moan. “But you balk at a single order and you’ll not only lose your briefs, you’ll be wearing this for the next two weeks without any relief. Understand?”
His throat works as he swallows hard. “Yes, Mister President.”
“Youwillinform Mr. Cruz, if he tries to circumvent my order, that he’s up shit creek and can talk tomeabout it.” I reach up, catch the D-ring on the front of his leather collar, and drag him in for a crushing kiss.
Then I grab a fistful of his hair, shove him down to his knees in front of my wheelchair, and pull his face between my thighs where I’m still naked and my cock is aching and hard. “You’re the President’s horny and eager little slut, aren’t you?”
He nods, licking his lips as he stares at my cock. “Yes, Mister President.”
“And what do you do, slut?”
His gaze meets mine. The dark hunger roiling there makes my erection throb. “I serve at the pleasure of the president, sir.”
“Then. Get. Busy.” I fist his hair with both hands and viciously fuck his mouth. This isn’t a blowjob—he’s my receptacle, my eager fucktoy.
I know after yesterday’s scare Jordan’s first instinct is to upshift into Sir mode and take control. But I also know what it feels like to be unexpectedly kicked out of that sweet subby headspace too soon and it can lead to a bad case of subdrop.
Luckily, there’s an easy fix—the hair of the dog, and all that.
Thank god I’m sitting in my wheelchair. Jordan keeps up with me as I use him. I have no trouble climaxing as I imagine how much longer I’ll be able to last when I’m fucking him later while he’s bent over the desk in my study.
Because yes, there is a method to my madness in me getting off right now. I don’t want to simply fuck him later. I want to be able to last a little while.
I want to remind him that, once all of this is over and we’re no longer in the White House, he won’t have any worries other than the ones Leo and I tell him he has. He’ll find himself a pampered plaything, a pet, a cherished spouse.
It doesn’t take long for me to climax and when I spill I choke him with my cock, forcing it down his throat as he struggles to swallow and not gag or resist. “That’s it,” I grit through clenched teeth. “Good sluts always swallow if they’re not taking it up the ass.” When I finish I let him take a breath without pulling him completely off my cock. “Look at me.”
His eyes are beautifully glazed and watering a little from what I just did.
I smile down at him, the evil, sadistic smile that always melts him. “Bet that cage feels uncomfortable right now, doesn’t it, Mr. Walsh?”
He nods a little without dislodging my cock from his mouth.
“Tsk. Get used to it because untilIsay so, Mr. Cruz isn’t calling the shots for you.” I ease my grip in his hair and massage his scalp. “You’d better hope you can come from me fucking you because that thing’s staying on you, for now. Unless it’s an emergency onlyIremove it. Understand?”
“Yeth, Mithter Prethident,” he mumbles around my cock.
I know my dark and evil grin is full of promises his soul’s shadows lap up like honey. “I don’t give a shit what Mr. Cruz’s rationale was yesterday. I gave you a direct order and youdisobeyedme, didn’t you?”
Bless his heart he’s so deep in subspace it takes him a moment to realize what I mean.
“Yeth, Mithter Prethident. I’m thorry.”
