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Chapter 08: Riders on the Storm

I sat at the small table smoking and drinking in silence, my leg dangling beside joeie. I looked down upon him, watching his every move, allowing him to kneel beside me nuzzling my leg softly. The poor dear, I kept him so damn horny it made me laugh, but a lady like me, who enjoys being fucked by real bulls, needs a little guy like joeie around, a virgin kept faithful through manipulation of his faith in knowing I’d soon bless him with that which he’s always wanted, that which his male attributes demand, that which I’ll never allow.

Women have come a long way from my mother’s day. Unlike her, stuck with a legal husband, I have joeie, a male who keeps my home spotless and my clothes perfect, who prepares all my meals, takes criticism well, and washes windows too! He helps me prepare for being fucked and cleans me up after every fuck, and he’s developing a fine taste for sperm. Having a male like joeie is without any doubt a female’s ultimate pleasure, if for no other reason than the fact he in no way interferes with my private life. It’s another reason Mother Nature brought forth the male. The only problem facing a female is finding the ‘right’ male, and I don’t mean Mr. Right.

‘Mister Right!’ Puah! Simply Hollywood nonsense. A woman needs a male who realizes his real happiness, and full potential, can be found under the authority of the ‘right’ female. Once found, his fragile male ego needs to be broken slowly, and so keeping my little guy horny guarantees he’ll stay the little boy I want. My thoughts returned to reality with my last puff, where I found my poor joeie staring at my breasts, his body tensed and rigid. He was fighting himself openly, struggling to keep his hands away from my cock. Each hand gripped tight its nearest thigh, his strength, his obedience being tested to the limit. Here was my little Hercules, my hero, a Samson I need not shear. I giggled and decided joeie’s little ‘time-out’ was over, and I had to get going. I decided to let joeie feel important by handing him my cell-phone.

“You may call that taxi company I like and tell them I need a taxi in fifteen minutes,” I ordered. joeie sported the cutest pout, that went well with his raging hard-on. He relaxed to my words, with a breath and sigh. “Number’s listed under Pierre. Don’t be surprised if they answer the phone with a different company name. Just tell them Colleen requests Pierre.” joeie took the phone to find and tap the number. The poor boy was both happy to be doing something special for me, and yet sad to be helping me leave him to his frustration, alone.

“…For my mistress Colleen,” was the last thing I heard him say before handing me back the phone.

“Well? You may speak,” I said.

“Pierre’s on a call, ma’am, but he’ll be here in twenty-five minutes. Sooner, if he can,” he said quietly. For affect, bahis firmaları I frowned to show my disappointment, but no other driver would suffice.

“Well then, I guess that’s that,” I said, resting my vape pen in the Waterford ashtray. I sipped the last of the Old Grand-Dad and held the crystal out to joeie. “Refill, please,” I demanded sweetly. joeie jumped up, boner bobbling up and down, spewing juices everywhere. He took the glass and disappeared only to return an instant later, setting the glass on a coaster and kneeling himself beside me once again. He appeared happy to find me in a better mood, due to the fact I was going out to spend the night collecting sperm for him.

“Now I wonder what I can do for almost half an hour,” I mused aloud, peering down into joeie’s big blue eyes, blue pools of desire and need. I decided on a diversion for us. “Go and get your plate, slut,” I ordered. He crawled the distance to the table on which his dish was kept, and turned with it in his hand, a big smile on his face. He held it up to me, trembling so hard he almost dropped it. He knew what the plate meant to us and how important it was to his worship of me. It was one of those meaningless objects a woman must learn to instill with mystery, fill with powers meant to captivate the spirit of a virgin male under her authority. For my joeie, this cheap glass plate of black was already akin to a keepsake, the first Christmas tree angel, a sacred paten upon which joeie lays his own seed for me, for my praise, when permitted. “Do be careful with my plate, you little fool!”

“Yes, mistress I won’t drop it. Sorry, ma’am.”

“No, you WILL be sorry if you break that plate! Now you may assume the position. And not one drop or strand is to hit the floor! Got it, princess,” I asked aloud. joeie nodded eagerly and positioned himself with knees parted so my cock bounced above the plate, waiting for me to give him permission to begin. The lovely beast was quite a sight. Though I admit this little gem won’t win me any awards for its size, it’s long and relatively thick, with a bulbous head drooling in desire continually. This little fiend was situated above one of the finest pair of balls I’d ever seen, big, round and bloated. This was truly a whore’s dainty finger sandwich, and that was all the more reason I wanted to keep it virgin. What a thrill, to own something this unique, a machine born to beg, bred to suffer, a cuddly Chihuahua to break, tame and domesticate.

With the toe of my shoe I made a few adjustments here and there to the plate’s position that really weren’t necessary, but I wouldn’t have him believing he’d gotten it right. When satisfied I told him to begin playing with himself, but not cum. A frown went fleeting across his face as his hand went to my cock and began masturbating ferociously. Oh what a champ he was, happy as a boy can get, lost in a chaotic sex-driven kaçak iddaa cosmos I create, beating off to the sounds of tribal drums most primordial. I always find him exhilarating to watch. He’s really quite a sight, his eyes glued to my breasts, sweat coming to his brow, the sinews of his arms working hard, unconcerned with time or space, doing what he was meant to do, before the referee blows the whistle and stops play. I let him beat-off for the time it took for me to finish the bourbon, and it was almost time for the cab. I then nudged him with a stiletto.

“Time,” I stated, and I had to admit his reaction was immediate, proof positive that discipline does motivate. I no longer doubted the value of punishment. ‘Spare the rod, spoil the male virgin’ was a truism. His hand released my cock and dropped to his side, leaving the plate decorated in swirls of juice. Beads of sweat adorned his forehead like a laurel leaf crown meant for Nero. He was huffing and puffing, trying to steady his breathing, while his eyes stayed glued to my breasts. Poor cock was hard as a rock and swollen to the point of looking painful.

“Stand. I want to see you,” I demanded, and joeie obliged somewhat unsteadily. “Wipe my cock clean,” I began, picking up my vape pen. I watched while he began by first bringing his hand to his mouth to lick clean, then returning it to my cock, where it circled the hardened organ carefully. I watched him pull my cock through his grip, scraping and collecting juices as it moved. That too went into his mouth.

When he’d done as best he could, I had him kneel and get the plate so he could show me his offering. It was anything but a meager accumulation, considering I hadn’t allowed him to ejaculate. I was pleased with the amount of pre-cum I had him producing, and the amount of sperm was more than excellent, more than I’d hoped for, with every ejaculation accounted for, saved on video, its particulars written down in a ledger, and the sperm sealed and dated in the freezer. I have him eating the sperm of other men, saving his for special occasions. I plan keeping such a record of each and every ejaculation joeie ever has. joeie licked the plate clean and showed me the results proudly.

“You’ll wash that while I’m out, and put it back where it belongs,” I stated. joeie nodded respectfully. “And for god’s sake be careful! That plate has been handed down to me and it’s almost as important to me as it should be to you,” I lied. “It gives you a very special place upon which to lay your gifts to me, in anticipation of losing your virginity. Took me months to find just the right plate for you to masturbate onto and lick clean. You may speak.”

“Thank you, Mistress Colleen. I’ll always be careful with this,” he said, holding it in two hands, with reverence.

“Pierre should be here any moment. Slip into your jeans, the black ones, and a t-shirt,” I demanded. kaçak bahis joeie set the plate on the table’s top, and proceeded to dress in the articles nearby. He started with a pair of specially altered black jeans. They lacked pockets and a zipper and came with a lock sewn into the material at the waist. He had to squeeze himself into them while wiggling the waist band over his hips till it reached and cinched his waist. The material and fit were perfect, with just enough give to allow them being wormed into and out of. Once tight round the waist I motioned for him to step closer so I could have the privilege of snapping the two ends of the lock together, taking up all the give required to remove the jeans. I’d had the jeans fitted with enough give in the crotch to cup my cock and balls and still hold them immobile. The seat was designed so its seam fit deep into joeie’s crack, running its entire length. They looked as uncomfortable as expected, but my joeie’s life is one of sweet misery, striving to win the love of his fair maiden. There was no way my little pussieboy could accidentally get to his cock and balls now, when I wasn’t here. I was having a few more pair made, and needed a more permanent solution to controlling him, but it was taking time, as that was being custom-made from metal.

joeie slipped into the lavender t-shirt, the one with the words HERS in silver glitter, on the front. The doorbell chimed, and I nodded for joeie to answer, as I turned off the vape pen. I had another in my purse.

“Good evening, sir,” I heard joeie say. I’d taught him to be polite to my guests, and warned to be especially so with Pierre. I slipped into my leather coat, making sure my cleavage was displayed, and picked up my bag.

“Hey, no-fuck. You listen and listen good. I will phone you, not dispatch, when I’m bringing her home. You make damned sure you’re waitin’ for that call,” Pierre hissed to joeie while I was approaching the foyer. joeie was nodding vigorously when I walked in.

“Pierre,” I exclaimed, falling into his arms so we could kiss passionately. I made sure to be wet and loud for my joeie’s sake. joeie stood to the side with eyes wide, mouth hanging open. The front of his jeans were already saturated in pre-cum, as Pierre held me close. But Pierre was my ride to and from wherever I went on my nightly forays. He knew the right spots for my interests. And he was never far away if I got into trouble. Ah, yes, Pierre was invaluable!

“Ready,” Pierre answered, pulling away far enough to speak. He stepped back to eye me up and down, nodding. “I know just the place for tonight, Miss Colleen.”

“Simply devious, darling! Trust you to know what I’m looking for! So, lock and load, as they say,” I said through a giggle, “emphasis on ‘load’.” I then turned, looked over my shoulder at joeie and winked, looking like a school girl on her first date. Then I became serious. “Behave yourself,” I warned quietly, as we stepped through the door, Pierre taking my arm under his.

“joeie, dear, don’t snack too much. I’ll bring you home a thick rich creamy treat.”

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