The Toy

Henri Burton

Everything feels a little different. My jeans make a little hissing noise as I get into the car, the denim sliding over the dark nylon underneath. The silky lace of the panties I'm wearing glides along my shaved crotch with every motion, making my cock tingle.

We are going to dinner. I'm wearing jeans and a dress shirt, and Mistress has a long black dress on, with fishnet stockings, and black stilettos. Under my clothes I'm wearing silk panties and dark pantyhose, and there is a remote controlled vibrating egg deep inside my ass. The controller is in Mistress's handbag, naturally, and several times on the drive to the restaurant I felt a powerful rumble inside that ran like electricity straight to my silk sheathed cock and balls.

During one of these rumbles, my cock managed to find its way under the leg-band of my panties, to stretch down my leg, straining against the sheer, but gritty, nylon of my pantyhose. My hard-on is obvious, not something I'll be able to enter the restaurant with, meaning I'll upset Mistress. It's with fear and shame that I ride the last ten minutes to the restaurant with my hands folded across my lap, willing my offensive cock back into its confines to no avail.

Mistress pulls into the parking lot, rolling slowly around to a secluded section in the back. My cock is still throbbing down the inside of my leg, I can even feel some wetness around the head, sticking the nylon to my leg.

“Move your hands.” it is not a question, and I move my hands to my sides, and open my legs, anticipating her next demand.

“Look at this, I put you in panties and you can't control your little cock.” her hand pats along the length of the shaft as I, knowing what's coming, look up and close my eyes. Her hand leaves my shaft, I hear her take a deep breath, there is a rustle, and then sickly sweet pain rips through my gut as her fist slams full force into my denim and silk covered balls. I can't stay upright, I bend at the waist, putting my forehead on the dash, groaning in pain, as my cock gets even harder.

“Sit up!” I do, knowing what's coming, knowing that I can't refuse it even if I wanted to. I don't want to. This time her aim is better, finding that perfectly hideous spot where the pain causes nausea.

Twice more she hits me, my balls singing with agony, but my cock is, if anything, harder than before.

She turns of the car, removing the keys with a wicked smile, and holds up the small metal rod that is on her key-chain. I knew this was coming too, and I slide my hips forward to give her a better target, my jeans sliding across my ass unnaturally. Again I close my eyes and wait for the pain. An explosion of white fire erupts on the head of my cock and lances down the shaft. Rather than crumple over, I tense up, and struggle not to cry out, as detonations of fire rain down on the head of my cock.

“Ah, that's a bit better, tuck that thing back into your panties, slut-boy!” For some reason the blows to the head of my cock did as they always do, and my bruised cock is now simply semi-hard.

“Thank you, Mistress” I say with true emotion, as I kiss the hand she holds in front of me, the hand that has had me gagging on my own balls for ten minutes. I know what to do next as well. I get out of the car, thankful for the dark seclusion of this far corner of the lot, and walk around to her door. I take a handkerchief from my back pocket and open it on the dusty asphalt just behind the door. I open the door and kneel on the handkerchief, my eyes cast onto the ground. Her right foot stepped down onto the pavement in front of my eyes, its black patent leather shoe with dagger like stiletto heels gleamed murderously in the dim light. I felt the familiar thrill, and willed my cock not to react, as I bent to kiss first the toe and then the heel, seeing the luscious curve of her ankle and catching the faintest whiff of musky aroma. My balls were tingling despite their throbbing pain as I sat back up to wait for the other foot, and kissed it as well.

We walked to the door, my legs sliding beneath my jeans. I felt the vibrator come alive in my ass, nearly causing me to stumble. I was sure that everyone could tell I was wearing panties and had a vibrating egg inside me, every move, every glance, every clattering plate was enhanced. I can think of no time when I was more humiliated, or more devoted to my Mistress.

I ate in silence, muddy in my shame, as Mistress discussed, rather loudly, all manner of things that she would be training me to endure for her pleasure. Though it terrified me, I found myself being truly thankful for having found such a woman. The evil little thrill I always get when I actually do what so many can only dream. I decided then and there that I would do everything that she asked, no matter the consequence, that I would strive to truly be a slave.

“Go to the restroom, and bring me back your socks.” It caught me by surprise, I was wearing regular socks over my pantyhose, then low cut canvas shoes. Without my socks, the pantyhose would be visible to anyone who looked at my feet. With a knot in my throat, I complied, returning to the table with my socks folded neatly in my hand, a tinge of red to my face and growing erection. We sat at the table for twenty minuets after the meal was finished, and I am certain that every person in the room saw the stretch of nylon between my shoe and the hem of my jeans.

The ride home wanted to be uneventful, but Mistress had other ideas. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, Mistress ordered me to remove my jeans. She told me to look in a bag in the backseat. There I found what looked to be a very short dark denim skirt and dainty platform heel shoes in my size. My ego was utterly destroyed as I slid the skirt on, and fit my feet into the shoes, yet my cock was swelling, it had found its way under the leg-band of my panties again and was now visible below the hem of my skirt.

Somehow I knew what was coming, yet the surprise was still there when she parked outside rather than in the garage when we got to the house. She parked, and waited. I knew what to do, and I forced my self to get out and open her door, and walk her to the house before I thought about being dressed like a slut with a raging hard-on.

Once inside, she stopped by the door, waiting for me to kneel again, and adore her feet. This time it was not simply a peck, but rather a cleaning and a worship. I kissed and licked my way around each shoe, savoring the taste of leather and the electric hum of excitement I always get when at a woman's feet. She shifted her foot, giving me permission to work my way up the backs of her legs, tasting the tang of her flesh through the dense cotton of the fishnets, my cock pounding and slicking my leg with eagerness. As I reached her knee, she reached back and hiked her dress over her hips, showing me her glorious ass. She pulled her panties down, and stepped out of them, a haze of earthy scent filled the air.

“Clean my ass, slut boy!” I'd hoped for this, I quickly ran my mouth up the backs of her thighs, until I was running my tongue along each cheek, delving into the center. She reached back and spread her cheeks, and I wet my tongue with saliva and traced around her perfect asshole, lapping at it with the long strokes that she likes, then pushed my tongue inside, offering the kiss of full submission. Her hands grabbed the back of my head and she ground herself on me as I struggled for breath, and to keep my tongue moving.

Finally, her grip loosened, and she said, “Go get my cock, and get yourself ready to be fucked”.

I scurried off to the bedroom, and got her strap-on harness, and picked the biggest cock she had. I stopped at the bathroom to remove the vibrating egg, and to rub some lube into my hole. When I returned to the living room, she was naked but for the stockings, garter belt, and those painfully sexy shoes. I brought the strap-on to her, and cinched it on. Once it was tight, she grabbed my shoulders, turned me about and bent me over the back of the couch, pulled my skirt up, my panties and hose down, and with one long push split my ass in two. I groaned from the pain, but managed to push back into her, knowing that that pleased her. I begged her to fuck me harder, as she slammed into me with brutal force.

The fucking seemed to last for hours, my voice was hoarse and my asshole was raw when she finally stiffened, and started the slow grind that rubbed the base of the strap-on against her clit, bringing her to orgasm. She pulled back from my ass, and, with her cock glistening wickedly, reclined in the chair, her feet with the intoxicating shoes propped up.

“You may masturbate. Cum on my shoes.”

I did, I knelt before those gorgeous feet, pulled my bruised cock out over the top my panties, and stroked as hard as I could. In a matter of moments, gobs of my cum were covering her shoes.

I leaned forward and licked them clean.