The Dollhouse Society: Margo (3 page)

I looked him in the eye. My heart was pounding harder than ever.

He looked back at me with a combination of fear and lust. “Yes, milady.”

I gave him his first set of instructions, and he dutifully slid his big, warm hands up my calf, cradling my leg while he lowered his head and brushed a series of soft kisses along my knee and shin bone. Watching him kiss me, obey me, made me wetter than ever. Very quickly my desire for him actually hurt. When he reached my ankle, I pushed him back on the bed and crawled atop him, sleek and catlike, pinning him to the mattress and working his trousers the rest of the way off.

He watched me quietly, though his hands moved briefly to cover himself before I ordered them away. I thought how he shouldn’t be ashamed. He was absolutely perfect and beautiful. I drank in the sight of my naked courtier pinned beneath me and found it wasn’t enough to slake my appetite.

I’d been with all kinds of men over the years, men of all ages, types and breeds, but there was something about the middle aged male form that made my juices run and my heart thud faster against my chest. I loved the hardness of them, the way time had tested them and found them fit and strong, like a tree that can weather any storm. I even loved Robert’s imperfections. His body was lightly, darkly furred with just a scattering of silver, and his tummy wasn’t the flat plain of a boy anymore—he was solid and thickly muscled—but all that just endeared him to me more, made him real and warm and alive to me. He had a wonderfully deep, well-formed chest, wide shoulders and well-corded legs, and his cock was thick and heavily veined, not overly long but well fitted to his body and flushed red now with his arousal.

“You’re beautiful too,” I told him.

I leaned close and whispered what I planned on doing to him tonight while he shivered and fought his need to grab me. I told him that wasn’t permitted anymore than speaking without being spoken to first. The only thing he was allowed to do was to use the safe word we had agreed upon if I made him feel uncomfortable in some way. I didn’t want him frightened or hurt; I cared about him too much.

Finally, I urged him back into the next of pillows at the head of the bed, straddled him, and traced the line of his cheek with one sharp, French-manicured fingernail. “If you’re good, you can fuck me after I’m finished with you.” I then reached for the cuffs I kept in my bedside drawer.

His eyes, lit with excitement, watched me, and his breathing grew increasingly shallow as I gathered his wrists together and cuffed them to the spindles of my headboard. The motion pulled his arms taught and made his biceps stand proud. I traced his lovely muscles with my fingertips, raced the smooth of my nails over his clavicle, around his nipples, and down the slope of his ribs. He sucked in a quick breath at my touch. I could tell he was trying to be good, that he wanted to be a good boy and get his reward.

I smirked as I touched him as lightly as a feather, which gave my already fertile imagination a boost. I found the grand white plume I kept in the same drawer as the handcuffs and began brushing it methodically against his nipples until they were hard, then followed the line of dark, lush fur down the middle of his body to his groin. His hard-on grew by inches, and when I brushed the feather around the base of his cock, the thick, meaty head started weeping thickly and he groaned deep in his throat and his face took on a look of extreme concentration.

“Oh god…Margo…” he breathed so low I had to strain to hear it.

I had a feeling he was going to have trouble obeying, and I thought I should discipline him, but the truth was, I didn’t want to scare him, or, god help me, hurt him, especially this first time. So instead of disciplining him, I replaced the feather with my mouth. I kissed the base of his cock, the source of my pleasure. I shook my hair out all along his lower belly, let it tickle like blonde ribbons along his abs, then licked all around his steely shaft before moving lower. I loved his wonderful, clean taste. Unlike so many other executives I knew, Robert didn’t drench himself in those sickeningly sweet colognes as if trying desperately to hide his own male scent. It came through clearly, a bright, musky taste.

I’d learned many things over the years, working as a domme. For instance, it wasn’t the size of a man’s equipment but how he used it. I’d been with men who were hung little better than eunuchs but who were wonderful, talented lovers, and I’d been with men who could have done professional porn for a living but fumbled around like adolescent boys. A man’s cock was so much more pleasurable when it was fat, rather than long. And the most aggressive men, the alpha men, frequently had more balls than cock.

I took Robert’s big, heavy balls in my hand and squeezed them gently before bowing my head to them and flicking my tongue over their velvety-hard surface. Robert’s stomach contracted and he jerked his hips up reflexively in response. “No, my courtier.” I stopped licking his balls and squeezed his cock until he got himself under control again. “Do you trust me?”

“Y-yes, milday,” he managed in a thin, reedy voice like a man on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Good.” I gave the crown of his cock on brief lick, just enough to taste his precum, and then slid off the bed and moved to the adjacent washroom. I felt his eyes on my back as I left him there, bound and helpless.

When I returned five minutes later, I had my shaving kit with me, including my favorite straight razor, a strop, and a basin of warm water. I settled beside Robert, who watched me with great interest…and not a little fear.

“Milady…”

I slapped his cock with the strop and he immediately groaned at the stimulation.

“Do you trust me?” I repeated.

“Yes,” he answered softly.

I went about stropping my blade until it was perfectly, wickedly sharp and then set it down so I could apply a warm, ginger-infused gel to the thick mat of dark fur surrounding his beautiful cock. “I prefer my men clean shaven at the groin,” I told him. “You may do this yourself, or allow me to do it in future. But either way, it must be done.”

He snorted and fought the reaction of his body as I applied the gel and the cool burning of the ginger began, then grew as still as a corpse as I took up the straight razor. I felt the small muscles in his lower belly flutter as I began skillfully removing the hair at his groin, scraping over the lovely plains and angles, going delicately around his balls and the base of his cock. I spread his legs further and urged them up a little as I skirted his perineum and nipped at the edges of his asshole.

I could see the question in his eyes and I said, “You may speak now, if you wish.”

“You’re very skilled,” Robert said. He had finally relaxed visibly.

“I offered this skill to my clients,” I told him as I wiped the blade and
snicked
it closed. I followed up the path of the blade with my tongue, moving wetly and unhurriedly around all the places my blade had touched while Robert gasped and jerked in his binds, testing them mightily when I briefly raced my tongue up his cock to catch the sudden spurt of precum there.

“You’ve been very good,” I told him. “But you mustn’t come unless I say. You mustn’t even spurt.”

“I’ll do my best, milady.”

I squeezed his cock and he groaned, but this time, he didn’t spurt. “I don’t want your best, Robert. I want perfection.”

Finally, I moved up his body, slowly shedding my undergarments as I moved snakelike into position, my knees clutching his hips as I rubbed the wetness of my dripping wet sex against his skin. Robert’s handcuffs clacked against the spindles as he strained, and he bit his bottom lip at the sight of my bare breasts dangling a few tantalizing inches over his mouth, at the feel of my wetness streaking his belly. I leaned low and brushed my engorged nipples against his chest, then over his chin and lips before moving them quickly away. He gasped and closed his eyes briefly as he worked on controlling himself for me.

“Good boy,” I said, stroking his dear face with my fingertips and rewarding him with a kiss. I clutched his cheek and deepened the kiss, nearly losing myself in the taste of him, and he made a groan so low in his throat it was nearly a growl. I slid my tongue against the roof of his mouth and over his teeth and I felt him trembling under the onslaught of his own desire. I loved this, watching a powerful, confident man like Robert turn to emotional putty in my hands, feeling him submit to me, giving himself to me to play with.

I trailed biting kisses over his chin and down his throat, traced the curve of his Adam’s apple with my tongue while I crawled down the length of his body. Soon I was at eye level with his newly-shaven groin and thick, bone-hard erection. Without the fur there, he looked even bigger, wet and ready for me. His cock lay almost perfectly flat against his lower belly and his balls were likewise rock-hard and painfully tight against his groin. I licked at the drips of precum gathering at the base and said, “Shall I make you come, my dear?”

“Please,” he said, his voice soft and desperate.

“Please, what?”

“Please, milady.”

“Tell me. Tell your lady what you want, Robert.”

“Please let me come, milady.”

I finally took him in my mouth, swallowing him down slowly while using both hands to keep his hips pinned to the bed. He whimpered as I took him into my mouth as if I were causing him some deep pain. He had such a beautiful cock, faintly curved so it quickly hit the back of my throat. While I held him there, I gathered his balls once more and tugged gently at their tightness, rolling them like Ben Wa balls in my hands until I could feel his whole pelvis struggling not to buck uncontrollably as he fought his nature.

I guided him in and out of my mouth, going slow and enjoying his taste, enjoying his struggles. I worked his balls the way I worked his cock. I stroked along his perineum but avoided penetrating him there the way I would have with another man—penetration was Robert’s hard limit, and besides, he didn’t need it. It was obvious he hadn’t been with a woman in a very long time. Finally, I slid his slippery cock out of my mouth just long enough to say, “You may come now.”

He let out a low, inarticulate sound before thrusting his cock all the way to the back of my throat and coming hard. He tasted hot and salty, and I was pleasantly surprised to see he hadn’t softened much by the time I let him go. I licked around his firm, warm shaft and said, “Now, my dear, shall I untie you? Let you service your lady?”

Robert’s voice came in hitching gasps and he trembled lightly in the aftermath of his climax. “Yes, milady. It would be my honor to service you.”

He was so much better at this than I’d anticipated. I reached for the cuffs and pressed the tiny safety de-locking mechanism to unlock them. Truthfully, Robert himself could have reached the button, if he had wanted to. He could have stopped our play anytime, but he had not. I thought we might have a very good future ahead of ourselves as lady and courtier.

He lay very still, waiting for his next set of instructions.

“You may touch me now.”

He sighed with relief. Still trembling, he reached out to brush his thumbs down the sides of my face. It was a tender gesture, distinctly Robert. Then he changed it up a bit and slid his thumb along my lower lip and into my mouth. I sucked on him, and I watched his eyes darken with unadulterated male lust.

“Touch me,” I commanded him. “Play with me.”

And he did. With narrow-eyed concentration, he ran his thick, strong fingers over the slope of my neck, over my shoulders, down my arms. He gathered my breasts in his big hands, squeezing my flesh until I felt the ache of desire all through me. I arched my back as he worked my nipples, rolling and tugging on them until the areolas crinkled and they stood out, swollen and proud. His touch was unhurried and just this side of rough, the way I liked a man to touch me. It made me so wet I could feel my own precum pouring from me and wetting the indention of his belly beneath me.

Finally, feeling much braver now, he gathered a handful of my loose, long, cornsilk blonde hair and used it to tug me closer, to guide me down so he could kiss the bend of my throat, then my mouth, explore my lips and teeth with his tongue. We growled into each other’s mouths, our teeth biting as desire overruled every other emotion.

“Let me touch you inside?” he asked and I spread my legs further so he could trace the wetness of my seam and glide his fingers along my inner labia. He went deep and I shuddered as my inner muscles contracted around him, I was so ready. I came for him and he lingered while my pelvis curled and my sex greedily clutched him tight. He sucked the juices off his fingers. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he breathed before delving back inside, rolling and plucking at my swollen clit, swirling his thumb over my wetness until I found myself rocking my hips against him, pouring more of my desire out over his hand as I came again, fast and hard. I thought about punishing him for speaking, but I had never had a man bring me twice in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck me, Robert,” I told him. “Fill me.”

He smiled and his smile was full of hunger. “Yes, milady.” He slid his hands down my bare back, cupped my ass, and easily lifted me—a giant, horse-like girl—onto his now rigid erection. He groaned and his eyes shrank to burning dark slits as he began rocking his hips, driving that extra-thick hardness deep inside me.

The size and force of him made me gasp as it forced my body to accommodate him. My muscles clamped down around him and I rode him hard, my hands splayed possessively over the solid wall of his chest. We held each other’s gaze, and soon he was pumping into me faster, with a sudden, sharp depth that left me gasping. I was impressed by how easily Robert read me, how he seemed to know exactly what I needed to get off. He clutched my ass so hard he was likely bruising me, not that I cared, and begging me to ride him faster, harder.