Chapter 20 CELEBRITY SEX TOY pt 2
Aria held his hips in place, her nails leaving little half-moon marks. “Take it all for me,” she said, her voice rough and low.
She started thrusting harder. The sound of her thighs slapping against his ass; wet, filthy, steady. The smell of sweat and sex was everywhere. She started stroking his dick while still fucking him. The double feeling pushed him to the edge.
“Beg me,” she ordered.
“Please, my mistress…please let me cum! I’m yours!” he cried out; his eyes were teary from holding back so long.
“Release for your mistress,” she instructed. At the same time, she pulled the ring off and slammed in deep.
He started cumming, thick spurts landing and flooding her hand, his whole body shaking and clenching the toy inside him.
“You’ll do this again whenever I want.” When he was done, she slid out of him slowly, took off the strap-on and laid it beside him. Then she untied his wrists and ankles, gently touching the red marks it left. “Good boy,” she murmured. “You'll do this again whenever I want.”
Ethan nodded, so exhausted and still spell bound, in one night he had gone from fan to her plaything.
Two weeks later, his phone beeped late at night. It wasn't a message, just an address and a time. He knew it was her. Aria.
He arrived at a private loft downtown. A guard signalled him to use the elevator. It opened straight into the room. It was dim with red lights, black leather everywhere, mirrors on every wall.
He saw her, she was sitting in the middle of the bed like a queen on a big chair, putting on a shiny black latex corset, tall boots that had sharp metal heels, and long gloves up to her elbows. Her hair was in a tight ponytail, her lips dark red. She was playing with a riding crop in her hand.
She didn't give him a chance to get settled. “Strip,” she said calmly, like it was nothing.
He did. Clothes hit the floor until he stood there naked under the bright lights. She stood and walked around him slowly, her heels clicking lightly. Every mirror showed him how exposed he was;already half hard, his skin covered in goosebumps.
“You’ve been good,” she said quietly, dragging the crop down his back. “No touching, no coming without my say-so. I checked. You passed.”
He swallowed and nodded.
“But good boys still get punished,” she added. “Because I like it.”
She smacked her tongue. “Now, Kneel.”
He dropped to the cold floor. And bowed, she put a thick leather collar around his neck and buckled it tight. Then heavy cuffs on his wrists (locked behind him) and ankles (spread apart with a short bar). She clipped a leash to the collar and tugged.
“Crawl to mummy.”
He followed her on hands and knees to a padded bench. She bent him over it: face down, ass up, and locked his cuffs to the rings so he couldn’t move at all. The mirrors let him see everything: his helplessness, her dominating him in black latex.
She picked up a heavy flogger, lick it all the way down. “As it touches you, count to twenty. Say thank you after each one.”
The first hit landed hard across his ass, deep and warm. “One. Thank you, Mistress.”
By ten his skin was bright red and hot. Each strike made his cock throb and drip onto the bench. She only paused to rub her gloved fingers through the wetness, spreading it over his balls.
“Already such a desperate little slut,” she teased. “We’re only halfway.”
The next ten strokes were faster and harder. His voice broke, he could no longer hold the tears, but he kept counting. When she finished she pressed her body against his sore skin; the cool latex felt amazing against the heat. It was a bit relieving for him.
“You took that so well,” she whispered, biting his ear. “Now something colder.”
She took out a steel anal hook, applied lubricant on it, and slowly worked the ball end inside him. A chain ran from the hook up to the ring on his collar. She pulled it tight so his head stayed up and the hook pressed constantly against his prostate. If he moved even a little, it tugged deeper.
“Try to move,” she said.
He did and immediately felt that sharp spark inside. He moaned, completely stuck.
She lifted one boot and rested it next to his face. “Lick.”
He stretched as far as the chain let him, tongue sliding over the shiny latex from toe to ankle.
After that, she sat on the bench in front of his face and slowly unzipped the crotch of her outfit. She was already wet. The smell hit him hard.
“Earn it. Slut.”
She pulled his head forward. The chain kept him from getting too close, he could only use his tongue, licking her clit while she moved his head exactly how she wanted. When she came, she pressed down hard, shaking, almost covering his face. He licked up every bit.
After she caught her breath, she went behind him again. He heard her strap the harness on, then more lube. This dildo was bigger than the last one.
“Deep breath.”
She took the hook out slowly, then pushed the new toy in: steady, stretching him wide. Once it was all the way in, she started thrusting: long, hard strokes that slapped against his red ass and hit his balls over and over.
Time disappeared. Just the sound of skin on skin, her breathing, the bench creaking, and mirrors showing her owning him from every side. Finally her gloved hand wrapped around his cock.
“You cum when I do,” she said, voice tight. “Not before me.”
She fucked him faster, feeling her own climax. When she came again, she buried the toy deep and froze, moaning. Her hand grabbed his cock and gave him two quick strokes and he exploded, shooting a jet load of cum across her glove, his body shaking in the restraints.
She pulled out gently and cleaned him with a warm towel. After that, he took off every cuff and collar. Then she pulled him onto the couch, into her lap, stroking his hair and kissing the marks she made.
“You’re mine now,” she whispered. “Every mark, every drop. Mine.”
Ethan curled into her, completely worn out and completely hers.
“Yes, Mistress,” he said quietly. “Always.”