Fucktoy (pt2)

“Mind if I join the fun over here?” She looked up and saw a cute guy in a cowboy hat, but he was ignoring her, looking at her Master.

“Sure, grab a….” and He paused for a moment, making an obvious look at his fucktoy’s tits, still on display.

He knew exactly what she was thinking, it was written plainly across her face.  He also knew she was fucking hot, and likely leaving a sticky puddle on her chair.

“…chair, and have a seat.” The relief on her face was clear. It would be short-lived, but He did so love fucking with her head, and watching other guys’ reactions to His toys. Envy, greed, lust. Powerful emotions, and ones he controlled with a nod or shake of his head.

It was all about the power of control, and He had it. In spades.

The smile he sent Cowboy was confident, and just a bit this side of feral. Cowboy had pulled his chair right next to His fucktoy, getting a lovely view of her tits, with her blouse open and inviting.

“I think our new friend would like a beer, slut. Go get him one.”

He watched the mutinous look flash, briefly, across her face before her eyes dropped and she murmured her acquiescence.  As before, He watched her ass swish across the bar. She’d tugged the hem back down, but not before He caught the gleam of wetness. Leaning over, he observed that the seat of the stool had a lovely puddle where her cunt has pressed and leaked against the vinyl. She’d have to clean that up, He mused.

“Got a condom?”

His question, seemingly out of the blue, startled the Cowboy from his reverie. It was easy to understand, watching that lovely round ass crossing the room was certainly enticing, but it was time to get down to brass tacks while she was away from the table.

“I do, yup, always…” His eyes opened wide…”You’ll let me fuck her?”

“Eventually. But the game is played by my rules. I decide the hole, i decide when.”

Cowboy nodded, the eagerness plain to see.  Didn’t He love seeing hunger like that? He felt his cock stir. Power was such a delightful aphrodisiac!

She made her way back, feeling several hands smoothing her ass, a hand on her thigh, and a few tight squeezes between thronging patrons that were deliberate. She felt … humbled. And her fucking pussy? That bitch was literally drooling down her thighs.

She put the beer on the table in front of the cowboy.

“Lean forward and serve that drink properly, slut.” Her Masters tone brooked no argument. She bent, her partly open shirt falling free and her left tit almost falling into the Cowboys face. She felt the rush of blood to her face and throat, mortally embarrassed.

“niiiiccceeee….” Said the jerk, and with a fast glance at Master, he rubbed his nose along the exposed flesh hanging in front of him. “Like a St. Paul girl right off of th’ bottle,” he murmured, and she felt the heat of his breath against her flesh. She looked towards Master, murmuring “please, Master” quietly.

He looked at her, at the cowboy with his lips a fraction away from her flesh.

Fucking hot.

“I think you should taste her, see if you really do like her.”

She couldn’t believe He would suggest such a thing. She felt the lips of the stranger move down her tit, and his hot, moist tongue flick out and grab her nipple. He blew a breath across it, making it rise higher, tighter.

His hand grabbed at the hanging tit, and he all but shoved it into his mouth, sucking hard.

She moaned.

Oh gawd….so fucking hot. His teeth bit, but gently, and his sucking mouth  was…she felt the rising need between her thighs, and knew she’d cum if Cowboy didn’t stop soon.

Master watched her, knew her body, every posture, every breath. He saw her need grow deeper. Saw the tightening that presaged her cum, letting it build closer and closer.

“Okay, Russ, I think that’s enough. What do you think?”

He saw the frustration on her face, the growing ardor on his. Both frustrated, both denied. Both held in the palm of His hand.

Now that was fucking power!

**********************

The cowboy wanted to fuck, that much was evidenced by the large bulge in his jeans. He’d just tasted His fucktoys  tit,had lapped and sucked at her delectable nipple.  He had no doubt that if He gave the nod, she’d be bent over the table and fucked hard.

But. Not yet.

The game was still in play, and He had no intention of shorting it because Cowboy had a hard-on the size of Kansas.

“Slut, you left a mess on your stool. Get your ass over there and clean it up.”

He watched while she straightened up, and moved around behind Russ the Cowboy, and went to her stool. She squatted down, but threw Him an uncertain glance.

Gawd. Her face was flushed, her lust so fucking evident. She smelled like cunt, and His own cock was throbbing softly in his pants.

“Bend over, your ass pointing to me, slut, then lap up all of the mess your  juicy cunt left on the stool. Good girls don’t leave that sort of mess on their chairs.”

The statement was meant to humble, to humiliate.

It did, yet her pussy burned.

When she bent to obey, His hands slipped up her thighs, feeling the trail of wetness there, then slipped higher to cup her pussy. The cleft there was saturated, slippery. He drank her moan like it was a beverage, savoring her need to be fucked.

He didn’t care about that. Not yet. Right now it was all about obedience, trust– and lust was a distant third.

Cowboy was looking flushed as well. He sipped at his beer, but his eyes never left the lapping pink tongue cleaning the seat beside him.

He slid a finger into her asshole. Just a little reminder.  He diddled it around inside her for a moment, then withdrew it.

“Now Me, slut, turn here and clean your Master.”

She threw him a look, a pissy look.  He knew she was hating, absolutely hating that he’d put his finger in her asshole, and now wanted it in her mouth.

Too fucking bad.

She knelt and cleaned Him, and He ate the expression on her face, even as He enjoyed the warmth of her mouth, her caressing tongue.

Soon that talented mouth would be put to other use, but for now, this served as a reminder to her. Watching her kneeling on the floor had done nothing to decrease Russ’s ardor. He imagined the Cowboy was thinking hard about those lovely lips wrapped around his cock, sucking at his dickhead, sliding up and down his rigid pole.

Yes, He got that. She did have a fucking hot mouth. He’d trained her well to please a dick. Or a Russ. He grinned at His own humor.

“Up slut. Go sit on our friends lap.”