Fat (4)

Twenty-two minutes.” He paused, looking at her. “That’s how long you’ve been in here, and most of that taken up with your little snit about your size. I don’t expect to revisit this, understood? I like you for who you are and what you are and your size doesn’t change that at all. I expect you to think long and hard as to whether you can continue with me knowing this. If you cannot, then fix yourself, and go back to your office.”

He walked across the room after her capitulation, after his pronouncement, just left her standing there.  She spent a moment just looking at him.  At his desk, back to her, he was getting something from his cabinet. Maybe it was a gag, to shut her up after her ranting. Taking a steadying breath, then another, she tried to not let embarrassment back in. She stood where he had left her, uncertain of where things would go from here, but knowing that she was not going to walk away from something that she found, embarrassing outburst aside, extremely exciting.

“You know,” he said over his shoulder, “I’d have every right to punish you for your…snarky attitude. Not to mention poking me that way.” Turning back to her and crossing the room, he rubbed his hand under his tie, over his chest.

“That really hurt me, you know.”

She stared at her fingernails, bright candy pink, but not so long that they should have hurt him that much. His laugh caused her to look up at him. And frown as he smirked at her.

“As if.” For just a second he looked at her, and she was sure that she read something there, some happiness that she had stayed, hadn’t let her hang-up walk her capacious ass out the door. His voice was very soft, very gentle as he spoke again.

“I’m glad you stayed.”

He took his other hand from his side. What she saw in his hand belied the gentleness of his tone. Lifting  the ruler, gesturing toward her, he smiled a smile that could only be termed ‘sadistic’.  Her eyes widened when he issued his next command, the voice no longer soft and gentle, but firm.

“Stick out your tongue.”

Her eyes widened even further, as she paused. The look on his face, that “Dom look” was challenging her to be disobedient. Daring her had only ever made her made her reckless. She straightened her spine, stuck out her tongue, not a little impudently, waggled it at him.

“That little muscle almost landed you in a boatload of trouble.”

Surprisingly, he did not smack her with the ruler, but rather pulled a clothes pin from his pocket, quickly clipping it on the end of her waggling tongue-tip.

“OUTH!”  she yelped. Man that fucking hurt! she thought. Tears rose as he struck the clothes pin with the ruler, a series of tap tap tapping that had her struggling to hold still, keep her place. One last hard thwack made the tears slip down her cheeks. He caught them on his fingers, rubbing them  dry on the crotch of her panties.

“Mustn’t get tear-drops on your pretty blouse. I’m sure your cohorts would love to see that I made you cry, but you’re made of stronger stuff than they would ever imagine.”

Removing the clothespin, he smiled as he put it back in his pocket.

“I wonder if it would make you cry–or moan–if I stuck that on your clit?”

He patted his pocket where the small but effective torture device now rested. Not sure on whether he expected a response, she sucked her tongue back into her mouth and hid it behind her teeth. The tip throbbed, but set up a response in her pussy that was undeniable.

“On your knees. We haven’t much time left.”

Obedient now, her head in submissive mode, she moved to her knees.

“Open your mouth and stick out that sassy tongue of yours.”

He moved to straddle her, pulling his belt from his pants, tugging the trousers down.

“There best not be any cum stains on my new pants,” he said sternly, but his eyes were crinkling at the corners, a sign of amusement, she’d learned.

“Don’t worry Sir, I enjoy swallowing,” she purred. He didn’t respond to her other than a quiet humming sound. His cock was still turgid, despite the little episode of attitude adjustment. Oh, she was so going to enjoy this!

“Keep your mouth open, curl your tongue.”

Tongue-tip throbbing, thrusting between her open lips, she waited. Yet instead of  the task she had been longing for, he instead slapped his cock onto her tongue. The slap was quite firm, squishing that tender bit of flesh and muscle against her teeth. Though it felt like her teeth would cut into the underside of her tongue, still, she didn’t move, only letting a small moan break free. Again the thick meat of him slapped on her outthrust tongue, again she breathed through the pain. He left his cock this time, left it resting there. The tip rested just inside her mouth, she could breath the sweaty, faint urine scent of man-shaft.

“Look at me. Don’t move.”

His hands grasped her hair as he slid his heavy rod deeper into her mouth. She prayed that she wouldn’t gag, but she did anyway. His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her there. Tears formed in her eyes, her throat jack-hammered visciously as her stomach clenched.

“mmmmm, yessssss…”

Right on the cusp of heaving, he released her, withdrew. She had a moment to catch her breath, to swallow, before he grasped her hair and began to fuck her mouth in earnest. This wasn’t a blowjob, she realized, but a taking, a near-rape, albeit willingly offered, of her mouth. Relax, she ordered herself, breathing from her nose, fighting the urge to gag. Yet gag she did, and each time her throat clutched, he would moan.

“Suck,” he ordered, holding still, his hand grasping the base of his cock. She sucked. Seconds later, he groaned, and the salty-sweet taste of his come frosted her tongue.

His hand stroked her head.

“Good girl. Now, put yourself together, we have work to attend to.”

Put herself together, that was a good one, she thought, trying to switch gears as she tugged her skirt down, adjusted her blouse. Still tasting him in her mouth, she rose and crossed the room to his desk.

 

 

 

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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5 Responses to Fat (4)

  1. dvjan21 says:

    Hot. Very exciting.

  2. abby says:

    WOW..I have been wearing my grandma hat for a few weeks and am just now catching up….glad i waited to read this when it was just me….HOT as HELL..and since we are getting our first snow of the winter that is a very good thing…hell it would be a good thing in 90 degree heat.
    hugs abby

    • vanillamom says:

      Thanks abby! So sorry for the late response…life has been taking up so much of my time lately! 😀 So glad this story warms….all of you!

      nilla

  3. Pingback: Fat ~ Finale | Vanillamom's Blog

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