I heard your car pull into the driveway, so I went out to meet you in the front yard. You were gathering your things and I made it to the car in time to open the car door to let you out. You stepped out gracefully, in spite of the tight, knee length skirt.
Your face was blank. A completely unreadable mask. I cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Well?”
Suddenly your face broke into a huge smile. “I got the job!” You squealed as you threw your arms around me.
Curmudgeon as I am, I couldn’t help but smile too. “Of course you did, they’d be idiots not to hire you.”
You leaned back to look me in the eye, “Not only that! They offered me 10% more than what I was going to ask for!”
I held your face in my hands. “That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
You blushed a little as you said, “Thank you.”
I swiped a strand of hair out of your face and cupped your cheek with my hand. “What are you?” I asked.
You gave me a look that was half eye roll, half embarrassed glee. “I am smart. I am capable. I am confident. And I am the best god damn thing in this god forsaken world,” you recited.
“That’s fucking right,” I said as I leaned down to kiss you, long and slow and deep.
I broke off our kiss and took the bag from your hand. I put a hand on the small of your back to lead you into the house. “Come on,” I said. “let’s get you into the house.”
“God, yes,” you murmured. “My nerves are frayed. I’ve been on edge all day waiting for the interview. I feel like I’m wound so tight I could snap.”
I led you into the house and closed the door behind us. I set your bag on the entry room table as you slipped your shoes off, sighing and rubbing your feet with each one.
You took off your jackets and hung it on the coat rack beside the door. I watched as you took your collar off the hook and wrapped it around your neck. I could almost see the tension drain from your body as you buckled the collar.
I stepped up behind you and wrapped my arms around you, pulling you against me. Your body melted into mine like it was made for it. I slid a hand up your body and wrapped my hand around your throat, pulling your head back to my shoulder.
I ran my other hand up and down your body slowly, tracing the line of your curves. I tightened my grip on your throat as I started massaging your tits and you let out a contented sigh.
I was suddenly very aware of just how much stood between us. All that cloth was keeping me from feeling your skin, it was more than a little frustrating. I grabbed the front of your shirt and jerked, sending buttons flying across the room.
I let the shirt drape around you as I pulled down your bra and cupped your breasts in my hand.
“I liked that shirt,” you mumbled.
I growled a response, “I’ll buy you a new one.”
I squeezed your breast and tan my thumb in little circles around your nipple. Slowly, I ran my hand down your stomach, down your leg. I slid my fingers under the hem of your skirt and slowly slid my hand back up, pulling the skirt up to your hips.
I slid my hand to your inner thigh, rubbing slowly, teasing. I trailed my fingers up your inner thigh until I felt your bare pussy. No panties.
I let out a questioning grunt.
“Just a reminder, Sir,” you answered.
“Of what you are?”
“Yes Sir.”
“And what are you?” I asked as I started teasing your pussy.
“Mmm,” you purred. I lifted your arms above your head and wrapped your hands around the back of my neck. “A sex toy, Sir.
“Mhm,” I growled. I slid a finger between your pussy lips, letting your juices coat my finger. I ran my finger up over your clit, and slid my hand back down – one finger sliding between your lips, the others massaging the crevice of your inner thigh. “Keep going.”
“A fuck toy, Sir,” you repeated. “A body for you to play with. Your object of pleasure. Flesh for you to enjoy.”
“That’s fucking right,” I said as I slid a finger inside you. I pulled you back against me, feeling your ass press into my crotch. I let my palm press against your clit as I worked my finger inside you.
You started moving your hips, grinding yourself harder into my hand and let out a long, slow purr. As your hips moved, your ass was grinding against me.
The sounds you made, the hint of your perfume – the feel of you against me – it was all too much. I ached to have more of you.
But I made myself wait.
I know your rhythms. I know your body. As you started pressing yourself harder into my hand I clamped down on your neck. I put pressure on either side of your throat, choking off the blood flow to your brain. I let you have your air, but I took away your blood.
Your face started to turn pink and your eyes glazed over like they do when you’re lost in the moment.
You started moving your hips harder, faster and I matched your rhythm as I continued to massage your pussy. You were letting out these desperate little groans and I knew you were getting close.
I waited until I knew you were right at the peak and released my grip of your throat. The sudden rush of blood to your brain sent you over the edge. Your body shuddered against me and your knees buckled. I held you up, pressed tight against my body and watched the waves of pleasure crash over your face.
When you regained your focus you lowered your arms and slid a hand between us. You grabbed my dick through my pants and started working your fingers in that way you know I like.
“Fuck me, Sir.” You said. “Please.”
I didn’t need any more of an invitation. I pushed you off me and started ripping the shirt off your shoulders. I just let it fall to the ground as I started working on the clasp of your bra.
I was too eager. My movements too frantic and I couldn’t get the clasp undone quick enough. I just took hold of the bra and jerked – hard enough to snap the clasp – and tossed the bra away.
You didn’t bother complaining this time. I think you knew I didn’t care about the damn clothes. You just unfastened your skirt and let it slide to the floor with that sexy-ass little hip wiggle you do.
I pulled off my shirt, kicked off my shoes, socks, pants, and boxers – all in record time. As you stood back up straight I stepped into you pushing you against the wall.
I grabbed your head, one hand under your chin, the other on the back of your head, and turned your face so my lips were pressed against your ear.
“Spread your legs,” I growled.
You did. And you pushed your ass out for me, arching your back, making yourself available for me. I had to crouch a little to get on your level, but it didn’t take more than a moment to push myself completely inside you.
“Fuck,” I growled as I finally let myself take you. I pulled out slowly and slammed myself back inside.
“What are you?” I demanded.
“A fuck toy, Sir,” you gasped.
I slammed into you again. “And?”
“Your play ground.”
I slammed into you again and again. With each vicious thrust you recited your mantra.
“Your body”
“Your pleasure”
“Your slut”
“Your whore”
I grunted and cursed as I buried myself inside you. I dug my fingers into your hips and groaned as I watched the way your ass shook with each thrust.
You took me, as hard and as deep as I wanted. You gasped at the pleasure and the pain. But you took it all, just as you always do – just as it is your place.
When I slammed into you one last time and cursed as I exploded inside you, you started moving your hips – working your pussy over my cock – doing your duty to milk every last drop of cum.
I regained my breath and pulled your body back against me again. I wrapped an arm around your waist and a hand around your throat. I pulled your face back to mine and kissed you.
“What are you,” I asked again.
“I’m yours, Sir.”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/10g67zv/identity_gentle_mdom