“Do you want to cum?”
“Unh! Uggh!”
Don’t judge me—this gag may not be huge, *per se*, but what it lacks in size it makes up in devilish intent. I could talk better and drool less around a fat dick with a man behind it, fucking my face. If only.
Kat waves the wand back and forth, making its bulbous white head undulate between us like a charmed serpent. I can’t take my eyes off it, I want it so bad. I’d settle for my fingers, you know, if my wrists weren’t shackled to the front of my collar—I’d settle for humping a fucking pillow, if I weren’t sitting bare-assed on a concrete basement floor, and I’d settle for jumping her and taking it off her, shackles or no, if I weren’t chained by the neck to a ring in the floor.
If only.
Her face crinkles into a petite frown. She looks down at the wand and clicks it on-off, buzz-buzz, yes, Kat, you bitch, it works—doesn’t it? Oh, her face—oh, God, I hate the way she can hear my thoughts. Now she’s smiling. “Say it. Say you want it. Beg me for it.”