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Bondage
Stories, Male Domination Return to Maledom Stories List
The Rules
by Reese Gabriel, D/s S&M, forced exhibition Daisy took her dress off, her eyes never wavering from the wickedly large, mounted dildo on the wooden crate. She’d taken on men this big once or twice before, but those sessions had never involved bouncing for the entertainment of an onlooker. She’d also been a lot more limber then, twenty-something as opposed to being in her mid-thirties. Her pussy was already clenching in nervous anticipation of what was to follow. The hell of it was that if she really did get wet and aroused enough to pull this off, there would be no one to fuck her afterwards. She wouldn’t even have time to masturbate because Jake would send her right out to wait tables. He was a true sadist. That was all she could say. And an original one, too. The Farazians could take a few lessons from him in female torture. “Let’s get it all off, Daisy.” She removed the panties and the bra, giving full visual access. “Leave the shoes,” he decided, leaving her to squirm in nothing but her white sneakers, the ones she’d bought specially for the job. Jake made her hold off impaling herself till he rifled through the top drawer of his metal filing cabinet. There seemed to be everything inside except paper. One by one he pulled out a bottle of scotch, a whip, and a pair of handcuffs before finally retrieving a blue leather collar, studded and attached to a chain leash. “Put this on,” he tossed it to her. “It’s a dog collar,” said Daisy who was still trying to get used to standing naked before her new employer—not a club manager, but a diner owner. Jake pulled a cigar stub from his apron pocket and lit it. He was wearing a greasy T-shirt under the apron. Most prominent among the week’s worth of stains on it were egg yolk and pancake batter from today’s breakfast rush, such as it was in the town. “Yes,” he agreed. “And Daisy is a dog’s name.” Sufficiently shamed, she placed the collar snugly around her throat, affixing the metal clasp. The effect was instantaneous. Being nude was one thing, but being tagged this way like a pet hit her at a much deeper level. To her surprise, she was moist between her legs. “Put the leash between your breasts,” he said. “Let it hang down.” The metal was cool to the touch and sent shivers down her spine. The strap hung below her pussy. A man—Jake or any other—could use that strap to parade her about. To humiliate her, or to control her, yanking her head down into place so she could suck his cock or kiss his feet. “You’re gonna ride that stallion for me,” he told her. “You’re gonna stuff that big ol’ cock inside you and hump it for all you’re worth, doggie style.” Daisy was burning down below. Her nipples were tight little buds. Oh, how she wished she had a man to go home to, or better still, one to save her from this predicament in the first place. Jake ordered her to shake a bit, first, jingling the leash and making her breasts bobble and bounce. This made her extremely conscious of her age; aware of the reduced resiliency of her flesh. It would all be downhill from here. At least she no longer depended on her body to make a living, except to the extent that her looks got her some better tips than the other waitresses. “Tell me the truth, girl,” said Jake, “you were more than a cocktail waitress, weren’t you? With a body like that, you had to be using it for something really hot.” “I worked in an adult club,” she confessed, revealing the secret she’d been so carefully guarding in this small town. “As an exotic dancer.” “A stripper?” he grinned. “Should have guessed. “And to think now I get my own free shows. Okay, time to mount ‘em up.” Jake picked up the whip and snapped it on his desk. She jolted, feeling already way too vulnerable in her current condition. “Get along little doggie,” he chuckled, enjoying his joke. She did not share in the humor, being otherwise engaged in swinging her leg over the crate. She had to squat, lining up her pussy just so as to make the proper contact. The first time was a miss, a painful one. Using her dancer’s muscles, she held herself steady, her hands serving as guides. It was such a contrast, this clinical, mechanical process leading to such an intimate invasion. Feeling the dildo part her lips, Daisy shuddered. It was wide, alright, and long. She was scared. Holding very still, she tried to work up her courage. “Stop fucking around,” complained Jake. “Take it all the way.” “I—I don’t know if I can.” He scowled, picking up the whip. It was made of leather, a genuine riding crop. “I said take it all the way, bitch.” He sliced down on her thigh, leaving an immediate welt. Daisy cried out, collapsing. She was instantly impaled by the plastic monster, filled by it nearly to the point of splitting. Jake had no patience, however, for her whimpers. “Start humping,” he growled impatiently and lashed her back. “Show me some action.” Daisy was humiliated and hurting, too. Firmly planting her bare feet, she raised herself several inches. Once again, she was too slow for the man’s liking. Twice more he whipped her naked body till she was obediently and vigorously bouncing her ass on the dildo. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Ride it; fuck it good.” She pressed her palms to the wood in front of her. This was arousing her, though she was determined to conceal it. She would not yield like this. He could get his jollies elsewhere. He might make her perform like a two bit whore, but he couldn’t force her to like it. Trouble was, this infernal cock was getting to her, something about the shape, the seam of it, was working directly on her clit. Closing her eyes, she tried to shut it all out, just letting her well-exercised body handle the mechanics. There were times as a dancer she did this, too, just mentally checking out and going through the motions. The men never seemed to notice or care. They were, after all, many of them at least, the same ones who bought those rubber inflatable dolls to fuck or who downloaded pictures off the Internet to masturbate over. Other times it was different for her. For whatever reason—whether as a result of her mood or inclinations or if there happened to be a cute guy she was trying to impress—she would pull out all the stops, making like a real honey in heat. The effects were generally spectacular, winning her the attention not only of her targeted audience but that of lots of other males as well. A few times over the years she had even managed to bring someone home with her, but it never went well. Serene would cry and throw tantrums. After awhile she gave up on having a personal life. “That’s it,” rasped Jake, eyes glazing over. “Now hold onto those tits; squeeze ‘em for me; show me what you can do.” Daisy complied, putting her hands beneath her white, shapely orbs. Men had always been fascinated with these, even strong, mature ones, sniffing around her like babies, wanting the chance to suckle once again, slurping from the fountain of life. “Pinch those nipples,” he lashed at her behind. “And keep on bouncing.” She tried to concentrate on all he wanted her to do. He was watching over her like a trainer with a fresh animal. She felt like one, too, covered in sweat, feet on the dusty linoleum floor, bouncing and jiggling. There was no choice but to continue, though, and give him what he wanted, a full and complete show. The sooner she got herself off the sooner he would let her go. By this time, the rubber cock was coated in her own liquids and she was loosened up completely, able to take it with much greater ease. This fact alone was embarrassing enough, as were the moans she could not help but elicit along the way. Jake himself was placid as can be, scarcely showing any emotion at all. There was a turn-on in this, having the man uninvolved, having it be all about her admitting her sexual center and exposing it. Women weren’t like men. They needed more sexual stimulation and patience. They needed control in their lives and the freedom and permission to be themselves. At least women she did. “Is this what you used to do as a stripper?” He wanted to know. “Get it on like a little slut to make all the men hard, then send ‘em home with blue balls?” “N—no,” she gasped, though she had no idea what her customers’ balls had been like when they left the Silver Angel having witnessed her gyrations. “Strippers are cock teases,” Jake declared. “Put your hands in your hair, cock tease.” Daisy gripped her damp tresses, feeling every bit like the slut he was making her out to be. “What a slut! You’re dripping all over Jake Junior,” he said. “You’re gonna have to lick it up afterward.” She moaned louder, more piteously, indicating just how much this turned her on. “Let’s just call this my revenge—on behalf of all the guys you cock-teased—because every day from now on, I’m gonna tease you. That’s right, sweetheart. You’re gonna ride ol’ Jake Junior every day and you’re not going to get any satisfaction. I’m gonna get you all worked you up and send you out there to work. And you’re not going to the bathroom to jerk off, either. You need to powder your nose or piss, you tell me; we’ll do it together.” Daisy shuddered. There was no way to hold this back. She tried to keep her body rigid despite the sensations. “Did I say you could stay still?” He slashed at her. “Jake,” she wailed. “I need to come.” He muttered an expletive, taking her by the hair. “Get off, then. Get off my fucking horse.” She whimpered as he pulled her long dark locks, tight to the roots. Her pussy did not want to give up its place; did not want to feel the sudden emptiness. “Lick,” he ordered, maneuvering her off the horse and down to her knees. Daisy pressed her tits against the crate, shamelessly attending to the pole, slick with her own juices. His breathing, meanwhile, was thick and fast as she worked. She couldn’t see him behind her, but she knew he was there, observing; being turned on. “That’s enough,” he told her at last. Daisy straightened up, her lips and mouth coated, the bittersweet taste of herself still clinging to her tongue. Was this really going to happen every day? She would never survive it. For that matter, how would she make it through today without running from the diner screaming or else begging one or another of the customers to relieve her of the unbearable unrequited need? “Jake.” She looked up at him with longing eyes. “Isn’t there some other way? You said yourself, you think I’m pretty. I won’t fight you, Jake, if you want…other things.” She knew it was a desperate plea from a desperate woman. Alligator Jake put back his head, roaring with laughter. “You had your chance at a different arrangement and you didn’t want it, remember? And don’t even think of begging me to marry you now. The offer is rescinded.” Daisy fought back the tears. “Why are you doing this?” “I don’t know,” he tossed her a damp cloth to wipe her face. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here? Why’s a big shot “exotic dancer” pouring coffee in the middle of the swamp?” Daisy spared him the details. “I had to retire. Some people were after me.” He shrugged, “Well, if you’re staying, you know the rules. Like I said, I’ll never touch you, but I’ll make you do things. And in case you haven’t noticed, I like to surprise my girls. You know, keep ‘em guessing.” She avoided his grin. So far he’d done a bang-up job in her case. “Come out when you’re dressed,” he left her in his office to put on her clothes. Again, there wasn’t a point to crying and so she didn’t. Her real fear was that if she gave in again to some of those feelings of sadness she would never be able to stop. She’d drown herself in those tears, and maybe the whole world, too. The most important thing was not to think of Mick; not to even say his name in her head. She’d ride a hundred plastic cocks and face a thousand Jakes to bring him back, but that wasn’t happening. What was happening was survival. Serene’s and hers both. Yes, Daisy would hold it together. Especially tonight, dealing with the handsome as sin, enigmatic sheriff. The one who set heart racing. And her stomach flitting with butterflies.
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