The List 20: Its Mouth is for Being Gagged, Silencing it and Letting Drool Fall Out

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: She watched him in the small screen on her phone, and drifted off into a soft haze, thinking about what she’d be doing with that mouth next.

She woke up from half sleep to the sensation of his tongue gently circling her ass. There was an appreciative murmur before she reluctantly raised her head and looked back at him. The words written on his stomach slipped in and out of view, and her eyes narrowed.

“All right, you can stop now.” He slid to his knees at the end of the bed, watching her as she rolled over onto her back, yawned and stretched, and sat up. She rolled off the bed and scratched the smooth skin under her breast, then frowned. “Ugh, I need a shower, and you need to keep working on your list. Take the sticks off your face.”

He slid the rubbed bands off the ends of the wooden rods keeping his tongue out of his mouth, and pulled his tongue back into his mouth, breathing hard and enjoying the sudden freedom. He was working his jaw and running his tongue along the roof of his mouth when she clamped one hand on his jaw, pried it open, and slipped the o-ring gag behind his teeth.

He exhaled as she buckled the strap behind his head, his jaw forced into another unnatural shape. She walked out of the room and came back with the small mirror that hung in the hallway. It went on the desk while got the marker out of the desk drawer, and started to write.

“Turn around, I need to see what you’ll be for the foreseeable future.” He rotated around his knees until he was facing her, and she nodded in approval and went back to making big, block letters on the mirrors surface. “Boot-licker. Cunt-licker. Piss slut. Hole. Slave. Cum dumpster.” She sang the words in a high voice, then sighed happily and went over each letter again, darkening it.

She put the mirror on the floor in front of him. “Hands and knees, please.” He leaned forward, and drool slid out of his mouth onto the mirror, coating his reflection in spit.

“Clean the mirror, and think about what each word means.” She frowned, and then pursed her lips. “Hm.” She reached over into the drawer and found a plastic drop cloth, which landed by him with a thud. “Put this down, I don’t want you getting ink on the carpet.” She stood up. “Meanwhile, I’m going to take a shower. Be finished before I am.”

He tore open the plastic packaging and worked the drop cloth under the mirror, making sure he had plenty of room to rest his hands. She walked into the bathroom and he heard water starting to run. His reflection stared back at him, “piss-slut” written over his eyes. Drool poured out of his mouth, and he moved his head back and forth across the mirror. He balanced on one hand while he used the other to smear the spit around, getting it on all the letters, letting them soak up the moisture while he started working on the first letter of the first word.

Boot-licker. His reflection stared back at him as he worked his finger along the first letter, scrubbing it away. Of being down on his knees, working his tongue along the leather. The slightly acrid smell, the taste, the deep blackness shining back at him. The warm, soft feeling of having a task to complete that he enjoyed. His tongue slipping into his mouth just long enough to kiss the toe of each boot before he moved to the other. Of her, being there, taking in and accepting his act of obeisance, of loving him and creating a place where he could do this and feel safe.

Cunt-licker. Tasting her. Pleasing her. Working his tongue against her body until she lost control and came with thunderous jerks and starts. Breathing through his nose, focusing on her pleasure until she came, working his tongue against her, the feeling of he legs wrapping around his head and jerking him closer.

Piss slut. Being on his knees with his head tilted back, waiting for her. Her grinning face above him, teasing him, pulling her labia apart and positioning her hips perfectly. Letting her piss spray across his face until it found his mouth, saturating his taste buds. The sensation of consuming her, of swallowing her piss, of feeling it slide down his throat until there was a horrible warmth in his stomach. The knowledge that some part of her was seeping into his cells as the piss flowed through his body.

Hole. Violation. Things entering his body. His mouth and ass stretching, his throat convulsing. She loved his triggering his gag reflex, the wet choking sounds that came from him as she worked a dildo further into his mouth, pushing it as slowly as she could and trying to pinpoint the exact moment his muscles would convulse and retching sounds would pour out of him. The intimacy of changing his body and invading it, of penetrating him, of testing his mental strength as his internal organs were pushed and rearranged.

Slave. The warmth of trust from letting control go. Not worrying, not knowing, obeying and being rewarded. The joy she radiated when he loved her enough to let her make decisions for him, knowing she wouldn’t hurt him. Permanently, anyway.

Cum dumpster. The disgusting sensation of his semen sliding down his tongue, working its way into his throat until he grimaced and swallowed. Knowing she would love him after even the most degrading acts. Doing those things for her, the little murmur of appreciation, the way her fingers twitched a little when she was excited, urging him to clean his mess up off the floor or lick it out of a dog bowl. Of her forcing him just a little further than he would go himself, of taking him to a part and chaining him to the glory hole, inviting the guests to spray hot, sticky semen in his mouth. Of her helping him put himself back together when he was done.

The words were gone from the mirror, and his reflection stared back at him. It was slightly distorted, the mirror still wet, traces of magic marker still on its surface. Drool continued to seep from his mouth, and he shifted his hips to catch it in his hand.

He jumped as he noticed her feet, then leaned back and looked up. She was wrapped tightly in her robe, hair still wet, and looking down at him. “It’ll do, until I get you some glass cleaner. But it wasn’t done before I got back, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to suffer. Just remember who wrote ears are for hearing orders on their list during this next part.”

Preview: Ears are for hearing orders. And making ear wax.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Want to support the author (who is me)? Buy a compilation of some of my favorite stories on this blog for your e-reader at Smashwords or Amazon.

The List 19: Its Tongue is for Licking Boots, Cunt, and Ass: Part 1

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: She shrugged. “I just wanted to see you sweat, and it worked fine for me. Go dump this in the toilet, and meet me in the bedroom. I think I have a use for your tongue.”

He frowned and trudged to the bathroom, holding the red cup of cooling piss in front of him. He swished the contents a little, trying to figure out if it was his or not. He poured the noxious yellow liquid down the toilet, rinsed the cup in the sink, and tossed it in the trash.

He turned and caught his reflection in the mirror. The words written on his stomach in big block letters stared back at him. Boot-licker. Cunt-licker. Piss slut. Hole. Slave. Cum dumpster. All words he had asked to have written on his body, all things he had begged her to turn him into. He exhaled and caught a whiff of his own breath, making a sour face at the acid smell of urine. “May I please rinse my mouth out, ma’am?” He shouted the question across the house, and awkwardly swallowed.

Her nose crinkled as she tried not to imagine the smell. “Ugh, god yes, please do.”

He used his hands to scoop water into his mouth, swished it around, then spit it out. He tried it again, then finished with mouthwash and walked back to the bedroom. He stood in front of her, and she raised an eyebrow. “Knees.”

He dropped to his knees, looking up at her. She was still naked except for the socks and boots she had pulled on earlier, and his eyes wandered from her cunt up to her tits to her face. She let the eyebrow drop, and nodded. “Tongue out.”

He stuck his tongue out, and she grabbed it with one hand, pulling on it until it was out as far as possible. She used her other hand to put bamboo skewers on the top and bottom of his tongue, against his mouth. She stuck her own tongue out and waggled it at him, then laughed. “Its tongue doesn’t belong in its mouth, now does it?”

“Nuh if dozent ma’uhm.” He mumbled the words, too many consonants and not enough vowels rolling off his trapped tongue.

“No it doesn’t ma’am.” She sang the words back to him, pronouncing them carefully and clearly. “Because its tongue doesn’t belong in its mouth, its for licking boots, cunt, and ass.” She paused for a second, enjoying the sight of him on his knees, his tongue stretched out just for her, the bruises and lacerations on his legs, the words written on his stomach. “Well, get started.”

Drool ran out of his mouth as he scooted back and leaned down to run his tongue across her boots. The wet skin crawled across the black leather slowly, starting at the tip until it reached the laces. He switched from foot to foot, more drool falling out of the corners or his mouth, squeezing down further on his knees to push his tongue harder against her boots.

She took a step back, then another, making him chase her around the room, crawling on his hands and knees with his mouth open and his tongue hanging out. After a few steps she let him catch her, take a few desperate licks, then stepped away again. She moved faster, and he crawled faster, keeping his head down, trying to reach her boots as quickly as possible.

She stepped away and spread her legs, making him shuffle from boot to boot. “Is your tongue getting dry?” His answer was an unintelligible growl, a tangled mess of consonants and grunts, which she took to be more or less an affirmative. “Head up, look at me.”

He gave her boot one last lick and pushed himself up so he was on kneeling, looking up at her. She grabbed his chin with one hand, and leaned over. Carefully, she spit on his tongue, letting the saliva drop from her mouth onto the protruding flesh. With one finger she worked the puddle of spit in a circle, rubbing it down the length of his tongue from the tip to where the chopsticks sank into the muscle and forced it to remain out of his mouth.

He dropped back down to his hands and knees and started running his tongue over her boots again. Working along the sides, chasing her around the room like an animal, smashing the side of his face against the carpet to reach the soles when she rocked back on her heel and raised the toe.

She let him lick her boots until she could see the tension slump from his shoulders, until there was no hesitation between her moving and his following. Until they were connected, until they felt like one person moving, reacting to the same impulses.

She let it go on for awhile, until it was time to push deeper. “On your knees. That tongue has other uses.”

Author’s Note: Hi all! I am slammed this week, so this will be a two-parter. That way you get something, and I don’t have to be behind on the things I do to make my Benjamins.

Preview: Mouths are for being grmrmphhged.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Want to support the author (who is me)? Buy a compilation of some of my favorite stories on this blog for your e-reader at Smashwords or Amazon.

The List 17: Its Neck is For Wearing a Collar With a Leash Attached

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: She nodded, and took the plate and glass from him. “Like I said, you probably just stood up too quickly. Luckily, the next item on your list is pretty low impact. I’ll put these away, you take a breather, and then I’ll get your collar and the leash.”

He nodded and smiled at her, glad they weren’t stopping.

She came back into the room with a pair of scissors and the light string they kept in the kitchen, the white cotton kind that always unraveled at the end. She sat down in the chair, and motioned him over. “Scoot over, and face away from me.”

He slid across the floor and spun around, facing away from her. She made several loose loops around his neck with the string, then cut it with the scissors, and tied the ends together. She watched his fingers start to move, to fidget as he started to wonder what was going on.

“I know, you’re confused.” She patted his head, and pulled about six feet of string off the roll, cutting it again with the scissors. One end went around the loop of string already around his neck, and she walked over to the dresser with the other end. She wrapped it around the leg, and tied it with a simple knot. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain.”

She dropped the string and scissors on the dresser, then went over to the closet and pulled out a pair of socks and boots. “Leashes are to teach restraint, so I’m going to teach you to restrain yourself.” She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on the socks, then slid the boots over them and started cinching down the laces. “Your job is to not break the leash. Pretty sure you could, so you’re going to have to be careful.”

She knotted the boot laces, and then slid off the bed to sit on the floor with her legs stretched in front of her. “Whatever you can reach, you can lick.”

He looked at her boots, and then over his shoulder at the string running to the dresser. He slowly moved towards her, inching along as the slack came out of the string. As the string tightened he lowered his stomach to the floor and slid along, stopping when he felt it pull tight. Her boots were still a good foot away, and the string was pulled tight.

She raised an eyebrow, then laughed. “I wasn’t going to be that much a bitch.” She inched herself closer, watching the look of anticipation on his face, slowly bringing her boots closer until he took a deep breath and stuck his tongue out as far as it would reach. She dragged the toe of one boot along his tongue, slowly, sliding the leather across the pink flesh until the black gleamed.

She pulled that leg back, and he stuck his tongue back in his mouth to moisten it, then pushed it past his lips again as her other boot snaked forward. She dangled it just out of his reach for long seconds, then started to rub it across his tongue, back and forth in short strokes.

She sighed and leaned back, letting him reach more of the leather, to lick along the top and sides. He moved his head and ran his tongue eagerly along the leather, growling in frustration when the string pulled taught and wouldn’t let him reach any further. He forced himself not to jerk against it, not to break it and grab her boot with both hands and work his tongue over every square inch.

She switched feet, then dragged her boot back and forth, slowly letting him lick more than less, watching his tensed muscles as he fought to keep himself in place. She pointed her toes at the ceiling, only letting him touch the soles of the boot with the very tip of his tongue, watching him carefully move his head up and down, straining to get as close as possible to her without breaking the string.

She sighed and laid down on her back, half closing her eyes. “You do know how to make a gal feel appreciated, I’ll give you that.” She started to wriggle herself closer to him, her legs spread to either side of his body. She jerked when she felt his lips on her leg, gently kissing her skin. She relaxed and purred, the sensation of his lips moving up her body making it hard to move slowly.

Finally, his lips reached her inner thighs, and she forced herself to wait as he kissed and one leg then the other, her cunt just beyond his reach. He gently bit one thigh and she jumped, then laughed, and deliberately paused… then slowly slid a little closer.

Her ass clenched and her hips rolled as his tongue worked its way past her lips to her clit, and started to circle it. Electric jolts of pleasure spiked through her body as he flicked his tongue against her clit, pushed the very tip of his tongue against it, ran his tongue around and across it, pushing her towards an orgasm.

She slid her hips away, teasing both of them, letting the orgasm slip away, forcing his lips and his tongue back down her thighs, away from her cunt. He whimpered, then growled in frustration, kissing her thighs and working his tongue in small circles on her skin, trying to convince her to come closer.

She let him seduce her, let his tongue draw patterns on her skin until she found one she liked and slid her cunt towards him. Her hips rose up off the floor, pushing her clit against his lips as he ran his tongue up her slit again.

Her orgasm built again, and again she slid her hips away. His lips attacked her thigh as her cunt slid away, pulling her skin towards him, trying to drag her closer. She made herself wait, then slid her body towards him as slowly as she could.

The first faint flicks of his tongue against her skin made her moan. The tip of his tongue could barely reach her, and the sight of the string pulled tight made her moan again. She let him tantalize her with the tip of his tongue, then slid down a little further, let more of his tongue run across her clit, let him apply more pressure to her trembling flesh.

Her hips slid further down, and she let his mouth cover her cunt, burying his face in the space between her legs. Her thighs trembled and her hips rose off the ground again as he worked his tongue frantically, desperate to get her off before she moved away again. She grabbed his head with both hands, smashing his face against her body as the orgasm built and exploded inside of her.

He felt her legs wrap around his head, her thighs clench, and heard the sounds of her coming somewhere in front of him. He stopped, then kissed gently, trying to time his kisses with her moans and gasps. “Oh, okay.” She slid her hips away carefully, the nerve endings suddenly too sensitive to touch, and pushed herself to a sitting position.

She fanned herself with one hand, and gasped until her breathing slowed down. “Good boy.” She patted his head, and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them the string was still pulled tight but not broken, and he was smiling at her.

She smiled back, and licked her lips. “So, your throat was for swallowing piss, yes?”

Preview: It’s throat is for swallowing piss. SPOILER ALERT: This one will probably involve pee, probably won’t involve asparagus.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Want to support the author (who is me)? Buy a compilation of some of my favorite stories on this blog for your e-reader at Smashwords or Amazon.


She held him tight against the wall with one hand clamped on his throat and the other wrapped around his cock. Her hand slid slowly up and down his cock, jerking him off, getting him to the edge of orgasm until his thighs trembled and his breaths were short, quick gasps. “Do you want to come, or do you want to lick my boots?”

Her words finally penetrated the fog in his brain, and he swallowed and tried to think. “I want to lick your boots.”

She stepped back and he fell to his knees, catching himself with his hands. His tongue slid across her boot eagerly, frantically. The leather shined where his tongue touched it, his spit pooling and running down the side. He covered the toe of one boot with his tongue, then the other. He started back towards the first, eager to taste it again, when she grabbed his hair and hauled him back to his feet.

His back hit the wall as she put her forearm across his chest and leaned into it. Her other hand found his cock and started jerking him off again. She built him up slowly, deliberately dragging out the pleasure, making it last longer until he was whimpering and his hips jerked every time she slid her hand up and down his cock. “Do you want to come, or do you want to kiss my tits?”

He moaned in desire, then his hands were clamped on her ass and he was lifting her, spinning her around. She hit the wall with a thump and wrapped her legs around him as he held her up, his mouth feasting on the soft skin at the bottom of her breast. His mouth moved along it, alternating between soft kisses and quick, sharp bites. She gasped and jerked as he moved from breast to breast, then ran his tongue across her nipples, flicking them with his tongue, sucking on them with his lips. She leaned her head back and her eyelids fluttered until she grinned and patted him between the shoulders. “Okay, very nice, but put me down now.”

She uncurled her legs as he put her down. He leaned over her, eager and hungry, breathing hard and sweaty. She grabbed his cock again and led him back to the wall, jerking him off again. He was already so close it was almost nothing to get him to the point of orgasm, to have him standing on his tiptoes with his thighs burning and panting. “Do you want to come, or do you want to eat my pussy?”

He dropped to his knees and plowed into her, almost knocking her down as his face collided with her cunt. She let out an oomph but held onto his hair, spreading her legs, then throwing one over his shoulder. She ground her cunt against his tongue, fucking his face with her clit as he licked up and down. She felt her orgasm building and grabbed his head with both hands, smashing her cunt against his face, loving the sensation of standing over him while he was on his knees, giving her pleasure. She came with a long, shuddering moan and then dragged him to his feet again.

His cock was hard and dripping pre-cum from eating her out, of being on his knees as she stood above him and raped his face with her cunt. She trailed one finger along its length, then licked her lips and locked into his eyes. “So, last chance, do you want to come, or do you want to fuck me?”

He grabbed her hips and tossed her onto the bed, growling as he pushed her legs apart. She closed her eyes and groaned at the thought of them fucking, of how he would grind his teeth and force himself not to come while getting her off, of showering and going to bed with his balls full and aching. She’d offered him the choice, but knew he wouldn’t take it. Some choices just weren’t choices at all.

Preview: “I don’t want you to ever get used to it.”

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.


“Real animals rely on their sense of smell. So I’m going to help you out with that.” She wrapped the band of the blindfold around his head, then carefully pulled a hood down over it, completely blocking his eyes with two layers of cloth. “Can you see anything?”

He blinked, feeling his eyelids rub against the cloth. “No ma’am.” He mentally shrugged and closed his eyes. It was more comfortable that way. “I can’t see anything.”

“Down on all fours.”

He dropped to all fours, felt the collar wrapping around his next. The chain leash brushed the side of his face, and he was being dragged along. He followed blindly, crawling along the floor on his hands and knees until he heard her voice.

“Stop.” He put his hand back down, stopping, knees and hands pressed down into the floor.

Something disturbed the air in front of his nose and he instinctively flinched a little. A chuckle came from above him, and then her voice. “Smell, pet, and tell me what you’re smelling.”

A slight acrid scent that reminded him of jackets and winter. “Leather, ma’am?”

“Good boy. When you get one correct, you get something you like. In this case, it’s a belt.” He tensed right before he heard the swish-woosh and felt the strip of leather smack into his ass.

It slapped him several more times, and he rocked his hips back and forth, trying to breathe in time with her blows. Warmth and pain spread through his body, and his mind started to get fuzzy while his cock twitched.

Finally, it stopped. “Thank you ma’am.”

“You’re welcome pet. Now tell me what this smells like.”

He shook his head, and scrunched his face up under the mask. It was a heavy, hard smell that reminded him of oil and machinery. “Metal, ma’am? Steel?”

He felt her hand pat his head. “Very good.”

He could suddenly sense her body near him, and swallowed hard. Metal wrapped around one wrist, and the clicking sound told him a handcuff was being ratcheted down. He let her slide his other wrist closer, felt the metal bracelet wrap around it as well. He shifted his knees slightly wider, and tried to compensate for the unbalanced position of his shoulders with his legs.

“Next.” He breathed in through his nose, and the scent of glossy magazines and porn stores filled his nostrils. His face scrunched up, and his head recoiled slightly. “Pornography ma’am? A DVD or magazine?”

“Tsk tsk. Nope. And when you don’t get them right, you don’t get to breathe.”

Her hands clamped down over his nostrils and his mouth, sealing his lungs off from air. He forced himself to remain still, to not waste the oxygen in his blood, to obey. He forced himself to stay still until her hands released his face, then gasped, taking in large, heavy breaths.

“Try again.”

The smell filled his nostrils again, and he licked his lips. It still reminded him of porn stores and plastic…

“Latex, ma’am?”

“Good boy.” He could feel her grin. “You got it right that time. Specifically, it’s a nice green strapon cock. Give it a kiss.”

He opened his mouth and cautiously moved his face forward, turning it from side to side, sweeping the area before him. His cheek brushed against something and he moved his lips in that direction, finally finding the tip of her cock with his mouth. He pursed his lips, giving it a light kiss on the end.

It slid into his mouth, pushing past his lips, and he held very still. “Not like that. Kiss it like you mean it, pet.”

He started slowly working his lips around the head of the cock, bringing some saliva up with his tongue and jaw muscles, sucking, licking, and nursing at the end of her fake cock.

“That’s better.” It slid out of his mouth, and left a trail of spit that shimmered and then broke in the air. He swallowed, and waited.

He could hear her moving, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “You’re going to have to wait for your reward.” More movement.

“Now, this is the last one, and I’ll warn you it’s a little tricky. It’s actually two scents. You’ll need to get both right, and if you don’t, I’ll be a little disappointed.”

A little of the warmth and softness left his thoughts, and he tensed, wanting to please her. “Yes ma’am.”

The scent of leather filled his nostrils again, stronger this time. But there was something else in the background, a wet, biological, slightly earthy aroma. He smiled at where he imagined her to be. “Leather and cunt, ma’am?”

He could feel her approval. “Good pet! Yes, specifically, my leather boots that I jerked off with and rubbed my cunt all over last night.” Her mouth was suddenly next to his ear, listening. “I’ve been wanting to ass-fuck you for awhile, but I’ve been making myself wait until you earned it. Now, since you’ve been a good pet, you’re going to lick my dried juices off that boot while I fuck both of us into oblivion. Do you like the sound of that?”

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.” He nodded vigorously, and the words came out in a rush.

“Good.” He felt her fingers under the mask, and a sudden rush of cool air came across his skin as she pulled it away. The blindfold came off next, and he blinked his eyes at the sudden light.

Her boots were on the floor in front of them, black, round chunks of leather with laces hanging off the sides. “May I please start ma’am.”

She was already behind him, eager and hungry, massaging lube up and down her cock, jerking it off. “Yes pet, but from now on no talking. Good pets don’t talk. You can bark or growl, but I don’t want to hear any words. Understand?”

He looked back and barked once.

They grinned at each other.

She moaned deep in her throat, and lowered her hips. “Lick my fucking boots clean while I fuck your ass. I want them to shine.

He opened his mouth, and moved his head forward, tongue out. Just before it reached the leather he paused for a second, and breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell.

Preview: Another exciting chapter in the Choose Your Own Adventure Story! What fates awaits Navaux this week? Did you remember to vote? Remember, democracy!

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.