"Sir, I'm close. Please let me come. Please!"
He replaced his tongue with a finger. “I love how prolific you are. We won't stop here until you've come ten times. No need to ask permission or warn me. I'll even keep count for you. This is your reward for being so brave."
As her third climax rolled through her his tongue moved up, circling her asshole. She'd never had anyone do that before, and if she hadn't been in the middle of an orgasm may have tried to stop him, but he'd just thoroughly cleaned her, so she relaxed and enjoyed it.
He'd skillfully brought her to the apex of her fourth orgasm when his tongue dove into her asshole, driving her ecstasy to new heights at the speed of a runaway train barreling down a mountain.
When her tenth climax finally washed over her, she needed to blow-dry her hair again. He quickly donned a condom before sinking into her pussy, groaning a low base note. He fucked her through two more orgasms and pulled out to line up at her asshole, gently inserting the head before stopping to say, “I need you to take this, pet. It's going to be rough."
He thrust into her all at once and didn't slow down, fucking her like a barbarian, his hands holding her hips in place as he drove into her again and again, with only the natural lube he'd picked up from her pussy. He was coming within a few moments, rutting into her ass like an animal as he growled through his orgasm. Dana barely held on and rode it out, no way she could find release while it was happening, but when she felt him coming it was enough to topple her over into a final crescendo.
He unhooked her wrists from ankles before toppling sideways, gasping for air, and she relished this chance to take care of him. She put a hand on his hip and said, “I'll make this fast, Sir,” before pulling the condom off in one motion, and disposing of it as quickly as she could before returning, cuddling him as he usually held her.
He let her hold and caress him as he recovered, but returned to caretaker mode as his breathing smoothed out. “Thank you, pet. You need to drink some more, and you're probably hungry."
The thought of food made her stomach growl, though it was only 8:30.
He smiled. “That's my cue to feed you. Walk with me to the kitchen and keep me company."
Zach preferred cooking the old-fashioned way, so Dana watched as he heated water with sugar, adding the oatmeal, cinnamon, and vanilla as it came to a boil. He'd situated her on the island, kneeling, with her cuffs connected behind her. He stroked her pussy occasionally, rubbed her legs, tweaked her nipples—almost as an afterthought—the sex toy on the counter, available to fondle at his whim. She took care to keep her back arched and breasts aimed up.
He reprimanded her for swiveling her hips in reaction to his touch, so she endeavored to remain motionless, though her body desperately wanted to move, to find release. Her heart raced every time his hand came near—would it be the frustrating pleasure of a finger tracing her folds before dipping into her, or the pain of her clit being brutally flicked. Would he squeeze and twist a nipple, or gently caress her breast?
Two bowls were set on a tray, but as he'd yet to let her eat on her own, she had a feeling this morning would be no different. The final touches were the silverware and two glasses of milk—one with a lid and straw.
Dana moaned, almost insane with need as he squeezed and twisted her nipples again.
"Such a pretty pet, and so well behaved.” He released her cuffs and helped her down. “Walk in front of me; we're going back to the bedroom."
Her heart swelled with pride at his praise, and she turned to walk, not wanting to mess up now. She thought she'd become accustomed to nudity around him, but felt self-conscious walking up the steps, knowing the view he had from behind.
When they reached his bedroom, he placed the tray on the coffee table and said, “You'll find clips and things in the second drawer down on the right in the bathroom, please secure your hair up and out of the way. If you need to use the restroom while you're in there, you have permission."
Zach was standing by the cage when she stepped back into the bedroom, and her stomach rolled as her heart thudded double-time. Her eyes met his as he smiled cheerfully. “In you go."
The cage had played a starring role in so many of her fantasies, and her knees grew weak as she walked to him, remembering all the times she'd masturbated at night, thinking of nothing but being imprisoned as he worked nearby.
She stepped towards the door, started to bend down, but he tilted her head up by the chin with a single finger. “I've had you up on a pedestal; I think it's time to pull you off, and remind us both of our positions. I'm pleased with your behavior—this isn't about showing displeasure. If you feel we need to talk I want to hear about fancy footstools, okay?"