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.

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Eventually

She pushed him against the wall, face first, and stepped back. His skin shined in the dim light, and she licked her lips. “Which gag for you tonight? I think the penis gag, you look like the kind of guy that will really struggle to keep a cock in his mouth.” She shoved gag past his lips, making sure the bottom of the fake cock rested on his tongue, and let the straps dangle from the base.

He turned his head expectantly, waiting for her to fasten the straps, but she just shook her head. “Nope. I’m going to beat you as long as you have that cock in your mouth, and not a second longer. You want to suffer? Tonight you’re going to prove it. Spit out the gag when you want it to end.”

She shucked her pants down and off, then pulled a bullet vibe out of the toy drawer. It hummed to life, and she carefully slid it down her panties, making sure it rested snuggly against her clit. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ll willingly spit it out. I think you’ll keep it in your mouth as long as you can, but eventually you’ll scream, and it’ll fall out.”

She grabbed his hair and turned his head until he was facing the wall, then leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “I can’t wait to hear you scream.”

The rubber band snapped into the skin on the back of his shoulder. Thick skin that was constantly being rubbed and abraded by clothing and sheets, skin with relatively few nerve endings. Skin that could take a lot of punishment. Blood vessels rose to the surface and popped as she pulled the rubber band back and let him snap into his body again and again, methodically working on one side then the other. Ten snaps on the left, ten snaps on the right.

He wasn’t even breathing hard yet, and she purred in appreciation.

When those spots were tenderized, she moved on to the crop. Light, stingy pain. Quick flicks of her wrist on the same spots she had been working on earlier. He liked his marks, liked to check them in the mirror when he woke up in the morning, and she was happy to give him a few. He’d have an abundance after tonight. He didn’t mind the crop much, it didn’t weigh enough to really hurt him with one stroke, so she made the blows light and quick. Made sure the pain built up and never had a chance to subside.

When his breathing started to get harder, and the air rushed out past the gag harder and faster, she shifted her hips and rocked the vibrator buzzing against her cunt.

More quick slaps with the crop, now on his ass. First one cheek, then the other, alternating back and forth while the skin on his shoulders was still hot and burning. She could have plugged him, left him with a plug in his ass or a tail dangling between his spread legs, but she didn’t want him slipping away into being a thing. She didn’t want him to slip away into the feeling that he he was some thing that deserved to be violated, to be used for his holes and his pain. She wanted him to be fully aware and feel every second of agony.

Sometimes subspace was fun, but sometimes it really annoyed her when he started to enjoy her carefully orchestrated beatings. Not tonight, not until the very end. Not until she had gotten off.

She switched to the evil stick, a light carbon something-or-other rod that stung like a motherfucker. She kept working on his ass, then bounced a quick his off one shoulder. This could hurt with one hit, and she kept working her away around his body, starting a pattern then deliberately veering off in a random spot. From his shoulder to his ass, back to his shoulders, down to the back of his thighs, back to his ass, a sharp jab to his balls, working her way around his body.

She used the stick in one hand, and twisted the waistband of her panties with the other. The vibrator was pulled harder against her cunt and she gasped in pleasure. His breathing was harder now, and she could tell he was trying to exhale when she hit him. She twisted her panties in time with his breaths, giving herself sharp bursts of pleasure every time she hit him.

She hit him until she saw his body start to slacken, and could tell he was getting used to the pain. Time to change things up a little. The wooden paddle was heavy, thuddier, more impact pain than stinging pain. She lined it up carefully, and laid a sharp slap across his ass.

His hips jerked, and slammed into the wall as he rose up on his toes. “God, I should have tied some weights around your cock to keep you from fucking the wall.” Another slap, this time only across one of his ass cheeks. That leg spasmed and the knee jerked, and she angled her wrist to hit the other side. She worked one side of his body, then the other, letting him jerk and twist. He bounced off the wall, and she looked at his face as it jerked into view every time she slapped the hard wood into one side of his body.

His eyes were screwed closed, and he was breathing hard. His lips were pulled back, and she could see him biting into the gag to keep it from falling out of his mouth. She started hitting him harder, across his entire ass now, putting more of her arm into it. His hands were curled into fists and he was sweating. She kept hitting him, twisting her panties.

When he started gasping around the gag, making animal sounds even with his mouth full of fake cock, she set the paddle aside. She picked up the cane, and poked him under the chin. “Open your eyes.”

His eyes slid open, and his body slumped. He groaned at the sight of the cane, and she nodded. “You will scream, eventually.” Drool poured out of his mouth around the gag, and she knew his jaw ached, but he still held it in his mouth.

She reached into her panties and flipped the vibrator to high, then started to cane the back of his thighs. She had left this area virtually untouched, wanting the skin to be fresh when she got to this point. She wanted this to last.

The cane thudded into his body, and she laid bright red lines across the back of his legs. The cane whomped into him, sinking into his flesh then springing back. His body convulsed with each blow, and tears, drool, and sweat all poured out of him. She felt the vibrations rocking through her cunt, and felt her orgasm building quickly. She kept hitting him, kept slapping the cane into his trembling body, and forced herself not to come. Not yet, she told herself. Not until he screamed.

The cane thudded into his body again. And again. And again. She felt the frustration building within her, and started to hit him harder. She fought to keep herself in check, to keep from damaging him, and succeeded. Barely.

The heat in her cunt spread through her body, and time slowed down. She could feel the smooth varnish on the cane against the ridges of her fingerprints, and hear the air swish as she swung. The cane moved through the air slowly, then thudded into his body. She was hyper-aware of the force being moved down her arm, through the cane, into his body, and back. She could see the shock traveling up and down his body, making his muscles jerk and contort, all down his legs and up his back.

She moved around to his other side, and continued beating him. The lines across his body were and angry red and purple now, and small trails of blood ran down his legs, pooling and knotting the fine hairs on his legs. He suddenly sensed that she had moved, and turned his face to follow her to the other side of his body. The can caught him halfway through the movement, and pain exploded in his brain.

The gag flew out of his mouth and bounced on the floor, and she stared at it for a second before her hips spasmed and she came. The cane thudded down to the floor, and she groaned and sank to her knees as the orgasm slammed into her. She ground her teeth together and smashed her thighs against one another, riding the wave of pleasure as it washed across her body.

She pulled the vibrator out of her panties, and turned it off. She carefully stood, her legs still slightly wobbly, and carefully pulled him to the bathroom, making sure he wasn’t dripping blood on the floor. She’d have to remember that in the future. Blood was a bitch to get out of the beige carpet.

He followed her into the bathroom with small, mincing steps, and sagged gratefully on the sink. She could hear him hiss as she rubbed alcohol down the welts, carefully cleaning each one. Her thoughts were still warm and fuzzy, and she played with the abrasions she had left on his body as she carefully sterilized them and put bandages over the worst.

She slowly licked her lips, and spun him around so that he was facing her. She wrapped her hands around his balls, not squeezing, just applying enough pressure that she got his attention. “Who owns this cock?”

He closed his eyes and nodded. “You own that cock, ma’am.”

She shook her head and tugged on his balls, just enough to make him wince. “That didn’t sound sincere. Look in my eyes and tell me who owns this cock.”

He opened his eyes, and looked down at her, and smiled, just a little bit. “You own that cock ma’am.” His cock twitched as she ran her thumb along the shaft, teasing the head.

“Yes I do. And I decide if I’m going to punish you by hurting it, or reward you by making it cum, isn’t that right?”

His cock twitched again and he raised himself on his toes slightly as she continued to rub the sensitive skin. “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.” She slid her lips over the head of his cock, teasing it with her tongue, then letting it pop out of her lips. “You have no say in the matter.” She licked down the length of his cock, swirling her tongue around the head. “You took quite a beating, and you will have an orgasm.” She wrapped her lips around his cock again, working more of the hard flesh into her mouth.

He groaned and she sucked a little harder, pushing him closer to orgasm. She glanced up and his head was back, his mouth open and breathing hard. She worked her free hand behind his body and jabbed her fingernail into one of the welts. He whimpered and jumped, his cock almost falling out of her mouth as she went back to working on his cock.

“Ugh…” He growled deep in his throat, and she paused, holding his cock in her mouth, letting his pleasure die down a little before building it up again, a little further each time.

“May your cock please come, ma’am?”

Ever so slowly she dragged her lips along his cock until it popped out of her mouth. “There’s no permission here. My cock will come. And then we’ll put the gag back in your mouth, and I’ll bet you until you scream again.”

She shoved his cock in her mouth, sucking hard as his the words sank into his mind and his hips jerked. His legs shuddered as he came, and she could feel his cock convulsing in her mouth. She waited patiently for it to end, slowly running her tongue over his skin, teasing the frantic nerve endings, then stood up.

Small hands pushed her hair out of the way as she leaned around him to spit in the sink. She scooped a handful of cold water into her mouth, swished it around, then spit again. His legs were still trembling and his breathing was still hard and fast, his cock half-hard and wet with her spit.

She kissed him lightly on the lips, her hands on his shoulders in case he collapsed. “You did very well, pet. Now crawl back into the bedroom while I get a sheet of plastic for you to stand on. I don’t want to worry about you bleeding on my carpet.”

He started to sink to his knees, but one finger under his chin stopped him. Her lips were a fraction of an inch from his ear when she whispered, “You did very, very well, but it’s going to get more difficult each time. I just want you to know, keep impressing me, and I’ll have that cock I let you borrow coming in my cunt.”

He shuddered and she smiled. “Eventually. Not the second time, but around the fourth or fifth scream, I think I’ll want my cock to feel my cunt.”

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded and his shoulders slumped as he started to sink to his knees.

Her finger on his chin stopped him. “Make it to double digits, and I’ll lock that disgusting appendage up, and keep it in a hard plastic cage while you suck on my tits and eat my pussy, unable to get even a little bit hard.”

His body froze, but his sharp inhalation told her exactly where his mind was determined to be by the end of the night. He crawled into the bedroom, and she went to get a plastic drop cloth from the linen closet.

She already had the package torn open and was pulling the plastic apart when she walked through the door. He was standing, facing the wall again, the cock gag in his mouth and the straps buckled tightly around his head. She dropped the plastic next to him, and chuckled as she undid the buckle to the gag.

“Nice try. It gets harder each time though, not easier. I don’t want my cock to be spoiled.” He let out a soft mewl of protest as she pulled the cock out of his mouth, and dropped it in the drawer. She came back with a dildo, larger than the cock gag, harder to keep in his mouth. “Open.”

His mouth opened the fake cock slid into his mouth, disappearing inside him inch by inch. The balls dangled obscenely in front of him as he wrapped his lips around the cock, applying pressure with his teeth to keep it in his mouth.

She rubbed his hair, then slid him over so he was standing on the plastic. “Don’t worry, you won’t get a bigger cock every time. At least not in your mouth. I’ll be plugging some other holes too. Eventually.”

She slipped the vibrator back in her panties, and turned it on low. He turned his head to face the wall, pinning the base of the dildo there to keep it from falling out of his mouth. His lips sank a little further onto the fake cock, and she grinned.

She couldn’t wait to hear him scream.

Preview: The cardboard scraped against his cheeks as he slid his head inside the box.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.