The groanthat falls from Damon’s lips when he gets his first taste of my cum has to be one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard.
“Mmm…yummy,” I tease. “And I bet the sticky bar floor just accentuates the flavor…”
Curious to see what he’ll do, I release my grip of his hair and take a step back, but he doesn’t seem to care that he’s no longer being forced; he continues to crawl around, eagerly licking up my mess. And the sight of him debasing himself like this is so fucking hot I feel my cock starting to twitch again.
Jesus Christ.If only the dirty slut could see himself right now…As soon as the thought hits me, I grab my phone frommy pocket so I can snap a few pictures then record the rest of the show. I’m tempted to taunt him but I don’t want the video to miss any of those filthy moans; there’ll be plenty of opportunities for mockery later.
Once he’s done, he collapses onto his stomach with a heavy groan.
I shut the video off and step closer. “Missed a spot,” I tease, jabbing my boot at a smear of cum near his right hand.
“Fuck.” His voice is a harsh gasp as he lifts his head a fraction before swiping his finger through the cum and bringing it to his mouth. It’s as though he’s not able to summon the energy for any further movement.
“Are you planning to get up anytime soon?” I drawl. “Or are you happy lying on the floor like a dirty pig?”
Damon lets out a ragged groan. “Can’t move…”
“I guess you’re not interested in getting off then,” I taunt. “Or are you just planning to fuck the floor? You seemed to really enjoy tonguing it...”
With a heavy sigh and an agonized grunt, he finally moves. But it’s not to get to his feet; evidently the most he can manage is rolling onto his back.
My lips twitch in amusement as I take in the sight of him. “Debauched” is an understatement. His face is flushed and smeared with cum; his lips are swollen from sucking my cock; his hair is a fucking mess; his formerly white t-shirt is crumpled and stained from the floor; and at some point his jeans have been unfastened and his monstrous erection is testing the integrity of his white briefs, the front of which is soaked with precum.
I tug my phone from my pocket again and snap another picture while Damon has his eyes closed. Then I draw his attention to me. “Dirty boy, say cheese.”
He opens his eyes, a puzzled expression crossing his face. “Why are you taking a photo?”
“It’s for a collection I’m making,” I tell him. “I think I’ll call this “Study of a Whore in Squalor”—what do you think?” I smirk as I show him the picture.
He lets out a soft groan and brings a hand up to cover his now-flaming face.
“And this one I think I’ll call “A Starving Whore”.” I show him the photo of him licking up my cum.
The video I’ll save for another time…
“Fucking hell,”Damon groans. “Are you going to take photos of every creepy thing I do?”
“Of course,” I taunt.
To be honest, it’s not actually something I’d planned—it’s certainly not something I’ve done with any of my other subs—but now that the idea’s out there I know it’s worth pursuing.
I’m already well aware that Damon gets incredibly turned on by being made to recall his “creepy” behavior, as he calls it, so adding a visual element is only going to heighten that. Also, if his reaction to his video is anything to go by it’s not simply the reminder of his behavior, but also seeing himself on screen that does it for him.
“Are you going to try to tell me that doesn’t turn you on?” I ask, one eyebrow arched.
He closes his eyes, his cheeks tinging pink. I can tell there’s still a not-so-small part of him that would love to deny it but he doesn’t. Instead he shakes his head and admits in a rasping voice, “It turns me on. Fuck, it turns me on so much. I want to see the pictures. And I want to know what you do when you look at them…”
My brows shoot up at the last statement because it sounds as though he’s telling me he wants to know about my masturbation habits. I cast the matter from my mind for now, however,because there’s something more important to attend to. “I don’t remember saying you could touch yourself, little bitch,” I say sharply.
“Fuck.”Damon’s hand clenches in obvious frustration as he quickly snatches it away from his crotch, where he’d—no doubt unintentionally—been grinding his palm over his raging erection.“Please…”he groans, his expression somehow both contrite and pleading. But he still makes no attempt to get to his feet.
His reluctance to get up is a little surprising, but the degradation is obviously turning him on so I’m not going to force him. I’m not about to get down there with him, though, which dramatically limits my options.
I shrug. “If you’re going to lie around on the dirty floor like a barnyard animal you’ll have to get off like an animal,” I tell him. “Maybe you’d like my foot to hump? We used to have a dog who did that. Until he gotfixed…” My mouth curves up as I emphasize the last word and I see Damon swallow hard, clearly affected by the idea of being neutered—temporarily and non-surgically, obviously.
I carefullystep one foot over Damon’s left leg and shuffle forward so I end up with my right foot positioned next to his hip and my left nestled between his thighs, applying and releasing pressure to his crotch.
Despite my earlier comment I don’t allow him to thrust up, pressing down harder when he tries it.
