Doubting Thomass

Copyright 2008 .  No part of this may be copied, edited, folded, spindled, or mutilated without the express written permission of the author.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit expectantly, staring at my monitor, waiting, wondering and hoping.  Though I’m not touching it at the moment, my cock throbs upward to my chin, betraying me completely.  I’ve taken the liberty of pulling penis from my shorts, even though I haven’t been given permission.

Last night was good.  Fucking rights.  Stroking vigorously as He called me his little bitch; said all KINDS of dirty things to me.  Makes me throb just thinking about it.

Would touching myself be such a bad idea?  Not if I don’t mind an orgasm, like, right this instant!  But perhaps waiting would be better, for who knows what might be in store tonite.  Who KNOWS what He might want me to be, or do, for Him?

The Monitor beeps.  He’s on-line, and I grant him permission to view me through my webcam.  Here it comes!

“Good evening, Thomas.”

“H…hello, Sir.”

“How are you?”

“Wonderful, Sir.  How are you?”

“Horny.  Tell me.”

“Well, I’m sitting here, almost naked, and my cock is waiting for you.  Sir.”

“Lovely, precious cunt.  Have you been stroking ‘my’ cock?”

“No, Sir.  Though I’ve been tempted, I wanted to wait.”

“I notice you didn’t wait to undress, though.”

Shit.  Busted.

“No, Sir.  I’m sorry.  What can I do to make up for it?”

<…pregnant pause…>

“Brought the bra?”

Cock throb!  “Yes, Sir!  Right here!  May I put it on for you?”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

My cock bobbed excitedly as I donned the bra, fitting it snugly around my chubby boobies.

“There.  May I ask how I look, Sir?”

“Lovely, cunt.  You make yours VERY horny.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Play with My boobies.”

That was my cue to lie back and enjoy!  Closing my eyes, I began squeezing my tits for Sir, feeling the silky smoothness of Mom’s bra in my fingers.  Oh, it felt good!  Oh, I wanted to be fucked!  By MY Sir!

<beep>

Opening my eyes, his message awaited.

“How are you feeling tonite, love?”

“Deleriously happy to please you, Sir.”

“Nice.  Got toys?”

“Right here.”  Grabbing a foot-long dildo, I showed it to Sir.  “I’m already lubed, Sir.  Just waiting for you to give the word.”

“Given how horny I am for you, my love, I will ignore your second presumptuous act of the evening.”

“…Sir?”

Another pause.

“It’s good that you’re ready to fuck My ass, dear sweet Thomas, but you realize that watching you lube up is another of My prerogatives?”

“Yes, Sir – sorry, Sir.  I just wanted – well, you know – for everything to be perfect.”

“You ARE perfect, Thomas, and I love you.  Doesn’t mean that everything you do is perfect.”

“I know, Sir, and I do apologize.  Please let me make it up to you.”

“I see you’ve gone a bit limp.  That will never do.  Please correct that.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir!”

I wasted no time pumping myself up again, knowing how it pleased Sir.  Wasn’t long before my glans throbbed again; a drop of pre-cum glistening, and I was JUST on the verge…

“Not yet, love.”

Shit no – please!

“Sorry, Sir – getting carried away again.”

“Would carry YOU away, my love, if I could.  Meantime, show me how much of that dildo will fit in My ass, ok?”

“Thank you, Sir!”

Oh, the glans going in was always the best part!  I’d made sure to use plenty of lube, though, and soon, half of the foot-long was happily ensconced between my very well-rounded cheeks.

“Ride your cunt for me, bitch.  Pump that lovely fat ass of Mine.  Make me proud.”

In and out I pumped, my own cock longing for ass of its own to taste as it slapped against my belly.  Being so close to cumming even before Sir came on, I didn’t know how much more I could take, but take it I did.  Sir just let me, too, not saying a word, not ‘beeping’ for me to do anything – no interruptions at all as more of the dildo escaped from view.

“Oh…oh…aah…”  was the most eloquent I could be.  “Fuck!  Please!  Shit!”

Harder and harder I slammed the dildo, wishing Sir was fucking me, but not only was he not there, he still wasn’t saying anything!

“Master…Sir…I…must…”

“Bad bitch.  Speak when you’re spoken to.”

“I…just…can’t…”

And I couldn’t.  Try as I might, I would taste Master’s wrath tonite, for my jism sprayed like a cracked hose upward onto the bra, to spite my prayers to hold on.

“Oh, Sir – I’m sorry!  I just couldn’t!  Please forgive me!”

“…Master?”

…but he had gone.

Master’s screen was blank, and I was left, the dildo throbbing inside Master’s ass, with me… alone, and wondering.

Explore posts in the same categories: *strictly* cyber, erotica, prose

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