1. Finn Ch. 10: Predator

    Date: 8/31/2017, Categories: BDSM, Author: bySyptemberSmyth, Source: Literotica

    The black Camaro was sitting in the driveway when he pulled up to the house. He rushed to the door, thankful to be home. When he didn't see her seated at the table or on the couch he immediately went into the bathroom, stripped and got in the shower. Even though he never thought at his age he would have a routine to follow, it was comforting knowing what was expected of him. He had become more confident in independently following her unspoken orders and longed for the praise she always provided when he did. After he toweled off he went to his room and knelt down on the floor to wait for her. "Good boy," her voice came from the doorway. She walked to where he was and stood in front of him to buckle the collar around his neck. His eyes wandered over her slacks, and he wondered what the punishment would be if he reached up and pulled them down then buried his face between her legs. But he didn't have permission to taste her, no matter how much he craved having her thighs trembling by his ears. He followed her to the kitchen, grabbed their plates off the counter then set one on the table for her and sat down at her feet with his. "From now on it is your responsibility to wake me up in the morning," she said, running her hand through his hair. "I expect to be woken up at six thirty, and I expect to be woken up by your mouth." He paused with his fork halfway to his lips, processing the semantics of her request. "If you wake me up with the sound of your chains, you will be ... punished," she continued. "And I expect to come at least once by seven. If you make me late for work, you will be punished. On weekends, I expect to come more than once, but still expect to come once by seven." "Yes, Mistress," he said, trying to calculate the specifics in his mind. After she was finished her fingers ran through his hair one more time before heading back down the hallway. The increasingly familiar daze started to seep into his head from where her hand had touched. He shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth then went to rinse the dishes. He had just shut the dishwasher when she came back in holding two familiar bottles in her hand. "Come," she directed, sitting down on her normal spot on the couch and patting her lap. He lie across her, pressing his hips into her thighs and his cheek against the couch. Blood rushed between his legs in anticipation of her hands massaging his healing wounds. Even though it had been a few days, the residual reminder of her authority still scorched through him every time he sat down. She began rubbing the soothing balm into his skin and he sucked in a breath when she lightly squeezed his thigh. "Good boy," she praised, the haze around his head thickening the more she rubbed. The ache from several days of denial was throbbing, and he groaned softly into the leather cushion when she rubbed the lotion into it. He took another deep breath when her fingers pushed inside him and instinctively started rubbing himself against her lap. "No," ...