Page 47 of Mischief Mayhem
All right. Get your head in the game, V. Break him down. Tear him up. Make him squeal before you give him what he wants.
When I walked out of my room, my dominant alter ego had taken over. I wanted to mark him and turn his ass redder than I had the other day. I wanted to make him yearn for my cunt before I’d give it to him. I wanted?—
Fuck.
The sight of him kneeling on the ground for me would live in my mind until I died. At six five, his powerful body could crush mine with barely any effort. Yet, he willingly made himself smaller for me . . . because he wanted to give over that control to someone else . . . because he had to maintain it every other part of the day and sometimes, it became too much.
I ignored the strange pitter-patter in my heart, opting instead to circle around him and admire his perfection from all angles. His enormous arms gave way to massive shoulders and a chiseled back with vibrant bruises marking a big V across his skin. It sent a perverse craving straight down to my pussy, clenching parts of me that longed for him all day.
“Look at you,” I said, tracing along his graceful neck. He leaned his head to the side, allowing me more access to his sensitive skin, and I couldn’t help myself. I sank my nails into his trap muscle, making him suck in a hiss through his teeth. “Aren’t you just the most adorable boy in the whole world?”
He laughed, and I liked the sound of it too much, so I slapped his shoulder blade hard enough to make my fingers sting. A bright handprint reddened his flesh, and that, too, pleased me more than I expected.
“Shut up,” I snapped. “The only words I want to hear from you are ‘Yes, Mistress’ and your safeword. Do you remember what it is?”
“Full house, Mistress,” he said, glancing up at me with big, adorable eyes.
“That’s a good boy.” I ran a knuckle along the curve of his cheek, admiring yet again how beautifully made he was. “Such a delicate face. I love fucking it.”
He licked his lips before curling them into a big grin. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?”
He nodded, his eyes shimmering like I’d just told him he could have free run of a candy store.
“Well, I guess I know what we’re doing tonight.” Ideas pummeling my mind’s eye, I went to my dresser full of toys and grabbed the biggest cock cage I owned. Hollywood had a giant dick flaccid, made even more pronounced once he got aroused. But the man was a masochist, and judging by the greedy expression on his face, he enjoyed eating my pussy entirely too much. This would set him straight.
I walked back in front of him and kneeled to the ground, watching as he took in the metal contraption currently headed toward his cock. He stiffened and inhaled a deep breath, but his reaction made me pause.
“Do you have something to tell me, pretty boy?” I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say his safeword and mean it.
“No, Mistress.” He gestured to his dick, currently half hard and jerking to life between us.
He had marked ‘Y’ to wearing a cage on his checklist, so I figured this was okay. But I’d never make a submissive do something they didn’t want to, even if they’d originally agreed to it. I welcomed the revocation of consent at any time in my dungeon. It was the reason safewords existed.
“If that changes, you let me know.” I raised an eyebrow as he nodded and canted his hips forward, encouraging me to continue. He melted when I grabbed him, almost falling forward as I maneuvered the cold metal around his flesh and locked it into place. “Hmm, look at your dick, so pitiful and sad locked up like that.”
Hollywood blew out a harsh exhale and shook his head. “I’ve never worn one before.”
“Really?” That delighted me in the worst way. Hollywood had gotten around Madison County more times than the local bus. Not that I slut-shamed him, but I liked knowing I could surprise him, that I could do something entirely new with him. “You’re going to like this.”
He hummed an approving noise while I walked over to the queening chair in the corner, grabbing it and a mat before coming back to my submissive, still on his knees. He assessed the black box and the rolled-up cushion before glancing up at me with that same inquisitive gaze, excitement and anticipation mixing in his expression.
I unrolled the mat on the floor and patted it. “Lie down.”
He scrambled to do what I asked, stretching out on his back with his hands by his sides.
“So eager,” I said with a chuckle, and his smile shined brighter. “Arms up over your head.”
Hollywood followed directions, and I put the padded box over his face, making sure his forearms were in the right spots so it fit correctly. The top of the box had bright red cushions for me to sit and an opening for him to put his face. When he leaned up into it, I paused to enjoy the shimmer behind his eyes and the grin on his lips. He looked happier than I’d seen him in months.
“You keep your arms there,” I said. “Don’t make me cuff you.”
“Would you?” He lit up at the suggestion. “Please?”
“Such a naughty boy.” I went back to my dresser to grab a length of silk fabric that I liked to tie around genitalia, but since he’d asked so nicely, how could I refuse? Hands trembling, I twisted it around his wrists, securing it with a bow worthy of any holiday present before standing up to admire my work. God, he looked so delicious like this—massive legs spread out on the floor, gorgeous face waiting for my cunt, strong arms locked into place, desperate cock straining against the metal. “Snap your fingers if you need a break.”
I put one leg over the box and sat, ignoring my shaking legs as I slotted my clit right up against his mouth. The box kept me spread for him, and he wasted no time lapping me up.