Page 69 of Masters of Control

She was fucking with his head.

At least, he was pretty sure she was just fucking with his head, and she didn’t actually plan to crop his cock. What would he do if she did?

Cock and ball torture wasn’t in his hard limits because he was a little curious about it, but he wasn’t ready to go hardcore during his first rodeo. Was he? The unknown was turning him on as much as anything else. His ass clenched around the plug, his muscles squeezing tightly around it.

When the crop lifted and moved, Q tensed, but it slowed just before hitting his cock. The leather still stung where it hit the side of his shaft but not as badly as it could have. She’d pulled the blow at the last second, leaving him panting, his heart racing, and, adrenaline rushing through him, even though she hadn’t actually done it.

The leather caressed his shaft up to the sensitive head, and Q thrust, trying to rub his erection along the instrument of torment. He gritted his teeth against a moan as she lifted it just an inch or two and brought the tip down on his tip, sending pain flashing through him.

Fuck that hurt.

Yet his dick throbbed even harder in the sting’s wake, as if she’d just stroked his cock instead of cropping it.

She lifted the crop again and brought it down on the other side of his shaft. The sting flared and pulsed through him, and Q couldn’t bite back the moan of pain.

“Regretting your decision to put yourself at my mercy?” she asked, running the tip of the crop up to his nipples. When she lifted the tip and brought it back down, right on the sensitive bud, Q cried out.

“No,” he said honestly, despite the way his nipple was smarting. That hadn’t been quite as bad as nipple clamps and over with far more quickly. The sting had also gone straight to his dick, turning his arousal from painful into a warm heat that filled him from the inside out. He also felt a little unbalanced since she’d only tended to one of them, and he wanted her to hit the other one to even him out. “I’m here for your pleasure, Mistress.”

It had been the right thing to say. The crop lifted and fell, hitting his other nipple with the same force as the first. Q groaned as she began to flick the crop against his body—his chest, his ribs, his thighs, and a few little flicks against his dick. She was very careful when she used it against the thick mushroom head of his cock, but it honestly didn’t matter.

He was so hard, and his cock was so eager for any kind of stimulation, he thought he might cum if she did hit the tip with more force. Instead, she scattered the pricks of pain all over his body, the crop coming down again and again. His eyes closed as pain and pleasure collided.

At a certain point, sensation became sensation, and his body hummed with the sheer bliss of it, no longer able to differentiate what hurt and what felt good. He was lost in a haze of sensual torture, his body aching for release, even as he drifted in clouds of pleasure.

When he felt her loosening the restraints on his right ankle, he realized she’d stopped cropping him. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Sam?” He murmured her name as she got to her feet, and she smiled at him. Oops, he hadn’t called her mistress. Or ma’am. Thankfully she didn’t seem to mind.

“Do you think you can walk? I want you in the bedroom.”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up. The bedroom was the hotel room portion of the suite. He nodded. Somehow, he’d make the trip. He was a little fuzzy on the details, but she got him out of the cuffs and into the bedroom, where he fell back on the bed, with his cock leaking precum onto his stomach.

Fuck, he couldn’t remember ever having been more turned on, and she was going to take his ass while he was in this state.

He was so lost in sensation, he didn’t even notice her getting undressed or putting the harness on. One moment, he was staring at the ceiling, lying exactly how she’d left him, and the next, she was there, lifting his legs up into position and pulling the plug from his ass. Q groaned as she eased the toy out of his hole, his muscles fluttering around it, then gaping emptily.

It was only a moment before the dildo on the strap-on was taking its place. Sam leaned over him, watching his face as she began to slide the fake cock into him. For some reason, Q had assumed she’d do this in doggy-style position and being face to face as she took his cherry made the moment disturbingly intimate.

Despite the haze he was in, he didn’t think he’d forget a moment of this, not for his entire life.

The way the cock felt sliding inside him, invading him. Knowing Sam was the one controlling the toy and that he was giving himself over to her. The way his insides clenched and tingled around the insertion, his body shuddering. The dragging rasp of friction as she pulled out partway before shoving in deep, the toy rubbing over his prostate.

Her hand gripped his cock, pumping as she thrust, filling him, and pleasuring him in every way possible.

Reaching up beside his head to grab onto the sheets, Q arched and cried out with a husky groan as she fucked him. Heat and need slid up and down his spine. His cock thrust into her hand before his hips fell to meet her thrusts, the motions a perfect symphony of sweet bliss.

This was completely different from any of the classes, completely different from the toys and wands he’d tried out in the pursuit of knowing what to do with a sub’s ass. The way his prostate throbbed and pulsed inside him matched the rhythm of her hand, and he could feel his orgasm moving toward him like a tidal wave coming in to shore.

“Fuck! Sam!” He writhed, ecstasy pouring through him as the tidal wave hit, dragging him under into the tumult of sweet release. Hot fluid spurted, covering her breasts as she still moved the toy inside him, sending wave after wave of hot rapture pouring out of him.

Sam

Cock in one hand, the remote to the vibrator inside her was in the other. As Q’s climax hit and he began to cum hot jets of seed all over her breasts, Sam squeezed his cock even tighter as she upped the intensity of her vibrator. Watching him moving beneath her, seeing his expressions change, knowing she was the one giving him such inexpressible pleasure, had her quivering with her own need. As he emptied himself on her like a fountain, she pushed in deep, rubbing her swollen clit against the harness while the vibrator inside her reached a fever pitch.

She cried out with him, her body throbbing and pulsing with its own pleasure, panting together as every ounce of ecstasy was wrung from them.

The vibrations quickly became too much, so she shut them off, then slumped over Q, her breasts coated in his cum. The warm liquid dripped off her nipple onto his belly, and she had the strangest urge to bend down and lick it off. Giving in, she smiled when he moaned, both at her movement and watching her actions.