Naughty Nibbles Anthology Read online

  He shook his head.

  "You've wanted to?"

  There was a hesitation, and then he shook his head.

  "But you're curious? You wonder what it would feel like to have that kind of pressure on your privates? You've wondered what your cock might look like, how hot it might be, when it's forced to be even more erect? You've wondered if sex is even better with an enhanced erection?"

  Again, there was a slight hesitation.

  "Well, you're going to wear one, if for no other reason than I say so. I want to see you in a cock ring. And maybe I'll have you in one everyday. That will depend on my mood."

  He was making all sorts of noise behind his gag. She couldn't tell whether they were sounds of pleasure or annoyance. Maybe a bit of panic thrown in for good measure. And, well, frankly, it didn't much matter to her one way or another.

  "They can be a variety of shapes as well,” she continued. “Gates of hell somewhat resemble a tower. The store even had a few that were more of a cock and ball separator, a little lift and spread as it were. I rather fancy the gates of hell myself."

  Interesting that he hadn't lost one bit of his erection. And he did look totally appealing with that pillow tucked under his hips.

  "Since you're new to this, I decided to go with one shaped like a figure eight.” To tell the truth, she'd selected the figure eight one as much for her sake as for his. When she had more courage, she'd try for something more intense. Since she had been unsure how she'd fare in her new-found role as a domme, she'd opted for a ring with a quick release connector.

  "I mentioned how big your balls are, how swollen.” She cupped them for good measure.

  He seemed to dig his shoulder blades into the mattress.

  She put some pressure on that sensitive area between his sac and his anus.

  Jonathan groaned.

  "And I can't wait to see your testicles squeezed by rubber."

  Chapter Four

  She returned a final time to the drawer to fetch the figure eight. “This has two rings,” she told him. Please God let her fingers not be so nerveless that she couldn't do this.

  She'd always been concerned about a man's testicles, not wanting to cause him pain. But this was different. She'd gotten very explicit instructions on what to do at the sex shoppe and she'd bought the device with two purposes in mind.

  She was going to intentionally inflict miniscule amounts of pain, first to establish herself as his domme and second to give him the most powerful orgasm of his life.

  Still, directions were one thing. It was another thing entirely for her to manipulate Jonathan's cock and balls for their mutual pleasure.

  If she stalled, he'd know she was nervous. And she wanted him to believe she was totally in control. “The larger ring goes around your balls. The smaller one goes around your cock."

  She took his balls in one hand and squeezed them.

  "Argh!"

  Lifting, she began to encircle his testicles with the ring. “Looks like it will be a tight fit."

  His head thrashed back and forth.

  She squeezed the rubber until it locked into place. “Beautiful,” she said. And it was. His balls were forced into a tight circle and they protruded gorgeously over the ring. “Firm and tight.” She licked him.

  Beth reached over to their shared nightstand and grabbed some lube. “Cold,” she warned. She squeezed the bottle, dropping some of the gel right above his anus. With small, whorling motions, she slipped the tip of her finger in his anus.

  He jerked, lifting his hips, unconsciously granting her deeper and deeper access. She fucked him with her finger, watching as his cock got bigger and his balls got more and more firm.

  Heeding the warning from the sex shoppe, she kept the lube away from the cock ring. Not that it would harm it, but it might make the device more susceptible to opening unexpectedly. She definitely didn't want that.

  Pulling her finger out, she snapped the second ring closed. “Oh. Oh, my,” she said, looking at him. He was erect, and so unbelievably sexy looking. She could barely stand it. “Can you feel that?"

  He nodded vigorously.

  "Do you like it?"

  Jon nodded again.

  "So do I. See what happens when you misbehave?” Lightly, oh-so-lightly, she flicked his balls. “You get punished.” She did it again and again.

  He squirmed and moaned and thrust his hips, seeking release for his hard-on.

  "I only thought your balls were swollen earlier. They're so red now, bursting over your rubber ring.” She stroked his testicles, making them fuller. “They look as though they might explode."

  She went back to the flicks, a little harder now, more intense. “Shall I fuck you again?” This time, she didn't wait for a response. With his cock and his balls both enslaved, she moved between his spread thighs and inserted her forefinger into his ass.

  She fucked him hard. He was all but whimpering with denied need when she removed her finger.

  She climbed on top of him and guided his penis into her cunt. She slid down and he let out an audible groan. “Your turn,” she said. “Fuck me.” She waited, all the while knowing she was asking the impossible.

  He was over the top emotionally and physically. His legs were spread and his thigh muscles had to be fatigued. His wrists were cuffed and he could barely move. And now, the pressure on his restrained sexual organs had to be deliciously excruciating. Combine that with her internal muscles squeezing him ... “I told you to fuck me."

  He bucked his hips.

  "You can do better."

  He tried. Moving, gyrating, he tried to pleasure her.

  "Come on, Jon. A bit more. Work it. Please me.” She rose up and slid back down him, then did it again and again, working with him to find a rhythm to satisfy them both.

  Abruptly she stopped. She manoeuvred, lifting herself up just a bit so that she could release his figure eight cock ring. Then she sheathed him again. “Come,” she ordered him.

  In less than twenty seconds, he moaned behind his gag and shot his biggest load ever deep in her cunt.

  She smiled.

  Being his wife was cool.

  Being loved by him was exquisite.

  Being his domme rocked her little world.

  * * * *

  Beth glanced at the grandfather clock. It was seven minutes past six o'clock. And after last night, she knew he wouldn't dare be a minute late. There wouldn't be a last minute telephone call to her cellular, no excuses as to why he wouldn't be home until nine.

  Tonight, he'd be as anxious to be home as she was to have him. In fact, he'd rung earlier to today to tell her exactly that.

  She'd better get a move on, if she was going to be ready for him.

  Heading towards the oak front door, she latched the safety chain. She had a point to make. Every night, he'd have her permission to walk into the house.

  When he crossed the threshold, there'd be no doubt who was in charge. In less than twenty seconds, he'd go from being a respected and revered attorney to being her submissive.

  He might not know what to expect this evening. He might think that last night was a one-off, or, at the most, her domination would be an occasional happening to spice their sex life.

  He'd be wrong in thinking that.

  But she suspected, he wouldn't mind.

  Last night, she'd released his ankles first. He'd moved slowly, drawing his legs together. Then she'd uncuffed one wrist. He couldn't have grabbed her or touched her even if he wanted. She knew it would take a few seconds for his circulation to get restored and for the first pangs of pain to recede. She'd kept him in bondage quite a while. And she intended to do it regularly. Practice would make him much, much better.

  Next, she'd taken off his blindfold. He'd blinked at the brightness of the room.

  The first thing he had done when she removed his gag was to kiss her. “Good man,” she'd said approvingly.

  After she released his last bond, the cuff on his right wrist, he'd draw
n her into his arms. “My woman,” he'd said sleepily. Kissing the top of her head, he'd added, “I love you."

  She'd taken mercy on him and let him doze. In future, that would be a privilege he'd earn.

  But his words had been enough to help her sleep well, all night long.

  Today, she'd been nearly crawling out of her skin.

  Beth went upstairs and prepared herself for his arrival.

  This time, she'd traded in her shoes for sexy thigh-high diva boots. She shimmied into a pair of silky stockings and put on a black shelf bra. This bra covered only the bottoms of her breasts. Her nipples, including aureoles, were completely bare. She skipped knickers entirely. She wanted Jonathan to see her newly shaved cunt in all its glory.

  She finger-combed her hair and let the dark strands fall over her shoulders in a riotous mass.

  Then she crossed to the wardrobe for the last accoutrement. In the English tradition, she'd also bought a fine wooden cane to lay a half dozen stripes across her husband's lawyerly bottom ... just in case he still had any doubts whatsoever about who was in charge.

  She headed down the stairs.

  In the early days of their marriage, he'd returned home at the end of the day precisely at half past the hour. It gave him time to catch the tube, then walk up the street. Back then, she'd felt important to him. She'd known that being together meant as much to him as it did to her.

  She heard his key in the lock at exactly the right time.

  In moments, he'd realise he couldn't get in. That would be her cue.

  The door shuddered against the chain. She walked down the final two steps and across the foyer. Beth closed the door and unlatched it.

  Jon's eyes narrowed and she saw his penis start to grow as he looked at her.

  She took a couple of steps back and said to him, “Drop your briefcase."

  After closing the door behind him, he put down the leather satchel. His eyes had that intensity in them, the intensity that made her damp and made her want to crawl into his arms.

  She bounced the rounded off tip of the cane against the glossy side of her boots.

  He seemed mesmerized. “Is that for me?"

  "It is,” she said, continuing that rhythmic tapping motion.

  He swallowed convulsively, and his Adam's apple moved.

  "I've always wondered what it might feel like."

  "You told me."

  "I can't believe you remembered."

  "I can't believe you'd think I'd forget.” They'd still been in the States, and they'd spent the day hiking in the Estes Park area. They'd been tired and hot, so they'd headed to town for a beer. That turned into a stop at the liquor store, and, fortified by liquid courage, they'd made love and then shared their deepest, naughtiest sexual longings. He'd confessed a few other things that night, and she hadn't forgotten them, either. “You'll be finding out what the cane feels like in less than a quarter of an hour."

  "I—” He dragged a hand through his carefully moussed and styled hair.

  Good thing she wasn't facing him in court. One look at him and she wouldn't stand a chance. Rational thought became all but impossible.

  "Damn, Beth. Those boots. Fuck. You look hot. I want you already."

  She grabbed him by the tie and drew him close to her. She dropped the cane, hearing the rattan cane clatter against the ceramic tiles. With her other, free hand, she enslaved his balls.

  "You've got my attention,” he said.

  She'd given him instructions yesterday that he was never again to wear boxers, or any other kind of underpants for that matter. She couldn't exactly tell through his trousers, but she suspected he'd followed orders. “Kiss me hello,” she said.

  He did. Softly, sensuously. This was how a man who was in love with a woman kissed. She returned it, wanting him to know how much this mattered, how much he mattered.

  Jon intensified their kiss. Her body responded instantly, and her pussy became a molten river of desire. She straddled his knee, her vulva parting.

  "Ride me,” he encouraged. “That's it. I want to satisfy you."

  Still holding him prisoner, she humped his leg. In the throes of her own ecstasy, she knew she was exerting uncomfortable amounts of pressure on him, but she was too far gone. She'd been waiting all day to come.

  "I got home as soon as I could,” he said. He cupped her butt cheeks, giving her a little extra support and she ground her crotch against the steely strength of his thigh. “I couldn't wait to see you."

  When she came, hard, she said, “Your trousers will need to go to the dry cleaners."

  "I'll see to it."

  "You do that. But first, dry my cunt with your mouth.” Before she released him, she squeezed his nuts. “I expect, in future, that you'll come in this door, put down your briefcase, then get on your knees and wait for instructions.” Her words echoed in the small foyer. “Am I clear?"

  "Yes,” he said.

  "Repeat what I said."

  "Every day, I'll put down my briefcase, then I'll get on my knees and wait for your instructions."

  She arched a brow pointedly. “If you understood so completely, why are you still standing?” Abruptly, she dropped his testicles and released her grip on his tie.

  He dropped to his knees.

  She spread her legs and he moved closer. He placed kisses on her ribcage, then moved lower, pausing near her navel, then continuing lower. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her steady.

  Then, sometime, somehow, he seemed to forget that he was supposed to be drying her with his mouth. Instead, she was getting wetter and wetter.

  She grabbed hold of his head and dug her fingers into his hair. Oh, he was a master at pleasing her when he was totally into it. And he was.

  She came again, her pelvis bucking against his face.

  He held her until she rode it out. Then, like a good submissive, he cleaned her with his mouth, not stopping until her pussy was dry. “You're a quick study,” she said approvingly.

  "Trying to avoid that cane.” He seemed focused on the wicked looking-thing and not her.

  "Rattan,” she said. Only the best for his naked flesh.

  "Not bamboo? I thought canes were made of bamboo."

  "Bamboo is hollow. I didn't want something hollow, so I bought you one that's rattan, a good, solid eight millimetres around, about sixty millimetres long. It's the perfect size for a beginner, I'm told. If you like, we can always get a thinner one along with one that's thicker."

  He was mesmerized. He hadn't taken his gaze from the rattan. Jon was definitely not looking at her, which was where his attention should be. “At this point, there's no avoiding the cane, you'll just want to try to avoid further stripes from now on,” she corrected. “You're going to be disciplined, Jonathan, just so you'll remember how you want to behave in future. Stand and drop your trousers."

  He blinked but immediately reached for his belt to unbuckle it. She had to admit, if roles were reversed, she wouldn't be nearly as well-behaved. Which, she supposed logically, was why the roles weren't reversed. “At this point,” she said, “you're glad that you remembered my orders to never wear boxers again.” She squatted to pick up the cane.

  He lowered the zipper after opening the button, then dropped his pants. He had followed orders. His cock jutted out appealingly. She couldn't help herself; she wrapped her hand around its thickness. “All day, you thought about your sex organs, didn't you?"

  "I did,” he said. “And I thought about having sex. How bad I want to be deep inside you."

  "How did it feel, having your balls swinging back and forth?"

  "Sexy. I couldn't stop thinking about the way I felt with that cock ring on. And I thought about you all day. I couldn't wait to get home."

  "Take off your tie and hand it to me."

  He yanked the knot free and slid the silk from around his neck. He draped it across her palm. “Good. Now strip the rest of the way. You'll notice there's a hanger right there, on the coat tree for your suit
coat. The rest you can deal with later.” No need to hang his trousers. After all, they were going straight to the cleaners.

  He finished undressing. “You know, your breasts look lovely. I want to suckle your tits."

  She smiled. “And I want to cane you.” Which one of them, did he suppose, would triumph? “Turn around.” She used his tie to secure his hands behind his back. They both knew it wouldn't hold up if he put up a struggle, but it was a statement more than anything. “I'll have you on your stomach, if you please. On the bed, spread-eagle."

  "Uh ... No cock ring?"

  "You liked that?"

  "Yes."

  "Then, no. No cock ring."

  She followed him upstairs and waited while he got situated on the bed. This time, there was no need to use a ruse. He was going to obey because he wanted to.

  He knelt on the side of the bed, being careful to keep his hands behind him. She gave him a nudge between his shoulder blades, and he pitched forward.

  She untied him, and he got into position, face down, even placing his pelvis on the pillows she'd piled in the middle of the bed.

  Beth secured him much the way she had last night. “Wrists first,” she told him.

  "I'm using a spreader bar for your legs."

  "Meaning?"

  "It's a long metal bar, and it will keep your legs apart. Your ankles will be attached to it."

  His struggles were limited because of the handcuffs.

  "If you strained, you might have been able to get out of the ankle restraints. This way, you can enjoy your discipline."

  "Enjoy getting caned."

  "Indeed.” She secured the bar in place. “Comfortable?"

  "Not particularly so."

  "I've positioned you so the fleshy part of your ass sticks up."

  "I think I'm insulted."

  "You shouldn't be. You should be grateful. You don't want the cane catching anywhere else."

  She saw him try to squeeze his thighs together. “I'll be careful not to catch your balls with the tip."

  "Christ, Beth."

  "Since it's your first beating, we'll go easy. Six strokes should be sufficient since this is about discipline and not punishment, as I mentioned. This is merely a taste of what you'll receive if you are disobedient in future.” She checked his restraints a final time. “Would you prefer to be gagged?"