The List 25: Its Hair is for Being Pulled

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: The trunk lid slammed close, and she walked around the car to the front. Her purse hit the passenger’s seat with a thump, and she hit the garage door opener as she started the car. They pulled out of the garage, down the drive, and onto the street. She hit play on the CD player and started driving, thinking about what she was going to do next.

She drove around in circles with him in the trunk, flipping the CD player from song to song with short, impatient jabs. Scenarios ran through her mind, vignettes of torture and degradation that she considered and rejected. Finally her eyes narrowed, and she made a U-turn and headed back to their house. She opened the garage door from the street so he wouldn’t hear the noise and drove by, going around the block and pulling slowly into the garage.

The pillow case on his head trapped his breath, turning the skin on his face hot and clammy while his body shivered in the trunk. His cock and balls still burned with the steady chemical heat, and he flexed his shoulders to work out the tension from having his hands chained behind his back. He tried to imagine what might happen next, his cock twitching in spite of the pain still radiating through his body as he imagined being forced to suffer and do horrible things until her hunger was sated on his torture. Of humiliation and degradation that would end when she was done with him, and not before. His head thumped against the back seat as the car came to a stop, and he wiped the sweat off his palms.

She grabbed her purse and slid out of the car, then walked around to the trunk. She pulled the strapon from her purse and balanced on one foot as she fed a leg through the harness, then jerked the straps, cinching them down tight and buckling them in place over her clothes. She found a place on a clean shelf to put her purse, and got out the small pair of scissors she carried. She walked over to the trunk, slid the key in, took a deep breath, and gave it a twist.

He jumped at the sound of the mechanical clunk and shivered as cool air flooded the trunk. “Stay still, I’d hate to cut anything off accidentally.” Her voice came to him through the cloth and he froze in the act of turning his face towards the back of the car. Her hand slid down his face, molding the cloth to his features, going down over his nose and stopping at his lips. The cloth moved away from his face, and then flattened and tore. Metal jaws appeared through the cloth and with small chewing motions tore through until there was a hole in the pillowcase. The scissors disappeared and then he felt the hand back on the top of his head, pulling the pillow case away and cutting another hole in the top.

“Get out.” She tossed the scissors in the trunk and guided his awkward movements over the lip of the trunk and onto the concrete floor. She purred in pleasure as he automatically sank to his knees, both of them gasping as they hit the cold concrete. “Oh, fuck it.” She reached through the hole on the top of the pillow case and grabbed a handful of hair, turning her wrist and wrenching the filaments tight, pulling his scalp away from his skull. “I was going to do a mindfuck, but…” She moaned, trying to remember the elaborate plan. “Tell you the person you gave such bad advice to was here for an apology blowjob, but you know what? I don’t want to share you, I just want to fuck your face.”

She fed the dildo through the hole in the pillow case, pushing it past the slight resistance as the latex tip slid off his cheek and into his mouth. Her hand jerked his hair towards her and his head followed, the dildo filling his mouth, then her hand shoving his head back, dragging it across his lips. Drool ran down his chin as she sawed his head back and forth on the cock, fucking his face, sliding it in until he started to gurgle then jerking it back out.

His muscles slumped every time she pulled on his hair, signs of resistance evaporating under her control. “I could do just about anything to you, as long as I pulled your hair, couldn’t I?” A long gurgle came out of the pillow case, and she nodded back. “Oh yes, you turn into a complete slut when someone pulls on your hair.” She flicked her hand back and forth, jerking his hair one way then the other, to confirm it, and then sighed and tried to keep her hips perfectly still as she worked his mouth up and down her cock. “I could drag you down this street on your knees with my cock in your mouth, and as long as I pulled your hair, you’d be the happiest little slut in town.”

Happy sighs murmured past her lips as she raped his face, making him gag on her cock and dragging spit out of his mouth. She closed her eyes and suddenly stopped, holding his head in place with the cock halfway in his mouth, prying his lips open, disappearing into the white cloth that left him a little less than human. A perfect moment of contentment washed over her, and the tension ran out of her muscles. She stood there silently enjoying it until it washed away, then reluctantly pulled the cock all the way out of his mouth.

“Come on, get up.” She helped him to his feet, and reached around to shut the trunk of the car behind him. She carefully led him into the house, grabbing her purse and shutting the garage door as they walked by. She walked him into the bathroom, and raised an eyebrow, looking at him one last time before raising the pillow case and pulling it off his head. He blinked at the sudden light as she pursed her lips and shrugged. “That’s it, end of the list. What now?”

Preview: The grand finale! Or more of an epilogue really. Maybe some sort of closure? Were they dead the entire time? What a twist that would be!

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 12: Hands are for Being Restrained

Click here to go to part 1

From Part 11: She locked eyes with him, her chest heaving from her breaths, her face froze in an animal snarl. “Remind me, what are your hands for?”

His voice was a muted whimper. “For being restrained, ma’am.”

She nodded, and her lips curled into a rictus grin. “Then lets get some use out of them, shall we?”

She grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, frog marching him over to the dresser. She reached around him and dragged the drawer open, letting it smack against his legs. Her eyes panned over the contents, grabbing the first usable thing she saw: nickel-played handcuffs.

She yanked his hands behind him, ratcheting one cut onto his wrist, then the other. “That’s what they’re for, right? Being restrained?”

“Yes ma’am.” He stumbled to the center of the room as she used the cuffs to spin him around and fling him that direction. He recovered his balance and stood there, breathing hard, licking his lips, and watching her with wide eyes.

She walked back to him with long, urgent strides, and kicked the backs of his calves until he crumpled to his knees. She shifted her balance and planted her foot between his shoulder blades, then gave him a shove.

His face smacked into the carpet and he lay on his stomach, trying to see her from the corner of his eyes. Her foot found its way back to the spot between his shoulder blades. He felt the pressure increase on his body.

“So the question that’s really on my mind is, now that your hands are restrained, how are you going to get me off?”

He turned his head and spit carpet fiber off his lips, then took a deep breath. “With my tongue, ma’am.”

She nodded and arched an eyebrow. “Really? How you gonna do that with your face all the way down there?”

He tried to roll over, but she dropped her weight and kept him pinned to the floor. He tried to scoot his knees up under himself so he could lever himself to his knees, but pushed down harder until he gave up. He tried twisting to roll over again, and the pressure increased again.

“You want me to cut your tongue out and use it like a dildo? Was that you meant?”

He clenched his jaw in frustration. “No ma’am, please don’t cut my tongue out.” He tried to roll over again, and again she pinned his body to the floor. “I can’t get up with your foot on my back.”

“Oh, is that the problem?” She let out a fake giggle, and stepped off his body. “Silly me.”

He shoved his knees under his body, and was starting to lever himself up when her foot collided with his balls. His body spasmed and he was on the floor again, gasping in pain and blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Well?” Her voice cut through the pain and he forced himself to roll over. He was still on his back, gasping, when her foot clipped his balls again.

He felt bile and vomit rise up in his throat and swallowed them back down, trying to ignore the horrible ache in his stomach as his balls throbbed.

“Looks like you can’t do much about protecting your balls without your hands either.” She let her foot hover over him as he curled up into a ball on his side, trying to protect his aching testicles with his legs.

“Well?” The inquisitive tone forced him to think again, and he groaned in pain and frustration. “I don’t know how to get you off ma’am.”

She kicked him in the ass, letting the toes of her foot bounce off the heavy muscles there. “So you see the problem? Before you say your hands are for being restrained, you better think about how you’re going to get me off with your hands restrained.”

He nodded, his cheek scraping against the carpet, and looked up at her from the corner of his eye. “Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.”

She shoved with her foot, rolling him back on his stomach. He braced himself for another thudding shock of pain to come from a kick to his balls, and shuddered in relief when he felt her weight settle on his lower legs instead.

He moaned and started to tremble when he felt her teeth sink into the soft skin of his fingertips. He forced himself not to jerk his hands away as her jaw bit down and the pressure increased.

She imagined herself devouring him, eating his body inch by inch, chewing until blood erupted from his skin and meat slid off his bones. Owning his body utterly and completely. Her muscles started to tremble with lust, and she took a deep breath and licked her lips. “Your only purpose is to get me off, and if you a part of your body can’t do that, I don’t see any reason for you to have it anymore. Understood?”

Her teeth sank back into his fingertips, and his arms jerked. “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

She clamped her hands around his wrists, just above the cuffs, and worked her way from fingertip to fingertip, feeling his body try not to twist and jerk beneath her, a steady pleasure building inside her, then spiking when he lost control and his muscles spasmed.

She pictured his eyes rolling up back in his head, and breathed slowly and deeply, enjoying the perfect control she had over him. His pain and whimpers, the taste and feel of his controlled body, knowing part if him couldn’t live without being treated like this. Knowing that part of him would be hollow without her filling that empty aching place with her pleasure in his pain and degradation.

She let the smallest finger on his left hand slide out of her mouth, and lifted her weight just enough to roll him over. She crawled up his body until her face was hovering inches above his own. He felt her weight on his body, her breath on his face, and slowly opened his eyes.

She grinned down at him, and licked her lips with exaggerated sensuality. “Now, about your stomach.”

Preview: Stomachs are for having degrading words written on! Like shovel, and bulldozer. Or not…

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

For Science

He winced when he saw the lab coat.

She grinned when she saw him wince. “Something wrong?”

“That damn coat.”

She smoothed the white cloth, forcing it against her tits, down her stomach, and against her thighs. “My mad scientist coat? But I have so much fun in it.”

He shuddered. “Wax, electricity, and ‘how much icy hot can go on balls’ isn’t fun.”

She waggled a finger sternly. “Don’t forget shoving metal rods up your dick hole.”

His hand reflexively jerked towards his crotch. “Oh. I was blindfolded for that one, but I’ll add it to the list.”

“Don’t be such a spoil sport.” She sidled up to him, rubbing her tits against his body. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you and reanimate your corpse as a mindless cock slave for my own pleasure.” He could feel her breasts through the layers of fabric, and stubbornly tried not to look down. “Not even a little bit. In fact…” She laughed and ran her fingers along his ribs. “Today’s science lesson: magnets!”

His lip curled, but he felt his cock twitch in spite of the pain and humiliation he knew was coming. “Magnets?”

“Magnets.” She waggled her eyebrows, and wiggled her fingers at him. “Remove your clothing, it interferes with the science.”

He swallowed hard and started to take off clothes, piling them in the corner of the room. When he was naked, hands at his side, she motioned him over to the couch where she was sitting. She spun him around roughly, the handcuffs clicking over his wrists, pinning his hands behind him. She spun him back around, and grabbed his balls, pulling them away from his body and looping the rough twine around them, pulling it down tight. The black metal disc dangled from the end, pulling his balls away from his body, swinging back and forth.

“Magnets are, shockingly, attracted to other magnets. Let’s demonstrate.” She tossed another magnet across the room. It bounced and rolled across the floor, then stopped. “Well, go get it.”

He shuffled carefully across the room, his hands behind his back, the magnet swinging between his thighs. He stood over the magnet, leaned forward, and carefully lowered his body until his upper legs were parallel to the floor. The magnet hanging from his balls swung in a lazy arc until it got close to the magnet on the floor. The string jerked slightly and with a loud click the magnets snapped together.

She let out an excited “eek!” when the two magnets joined, and licked her lips. “But a key part of the scientific method is reproducibility. Isn’t it?”

He straightened back up, and drew a long, ragged breath. “Yes, ma’am.”

She threw a pair of magnets to opposite corners of the room, and slapped his ass, hard. “Come on, I’ll never get government funding if my assistant is slow. Move it.”

He shuffled towards the closer of the two, the magnets pulling harder on his balls. She walked along behind him, slapping his ass. “God, I’d love to do research for the Federal Department of Mad Scientists. I’d need a cooler acronym, but I think I’d have a few hundred men marching back and forth across the dessert, a nice hard packed mud landscape, pulling magnets out of dispensers with their balls.”

She moaned as he lowered himself again, and a third magnet clamped itself to the other two. “Back and forth all day in the sun, their feet bleeding, their balls aching. Hundreds of big, tough men, wincing as they walked back and forth with all that weight hanging off their balls.”

He felt his cock twitching as he shuffled across the room and got caught up in her fantasy. “You could consider a reward, for whoever did best.”

She smiled a dreamy grin, and slapped his ass again. “I suppose I could, but random rewards seem more fun. Maybe I’d keep a bucket of water in my nice shaded observation platform, and let whoever I liked from the day before lick my boots all day.” She tossed another magnet and slapped his ass again, the electric jolt of contact traveling up her arm and down into her stomach.

“Hm, I like that. I think I’d have them go in a circle in front of me, picking magnets up from timed dispensers, and every time they passed they could get down on their hands and knees and get a drink from the bucket and thank me.” He squatted down to get another magnet and she put her hands on his shoulders, holding him in the awkward position until she saw his thighs start to tremble. She left him that way a little longer, then hauled him to his feet by hair.

He let out a breath of thanks, and started mincing towards the next magnet. “You’re very kind to give them water, ma’am.”

She chuckled, picking up on the cue, and decided to play along. “Oh, I’d piss in it as the day went on. We might as well study how magnetism affects thirst while we’re at it. You know, for the taxpayers. I personally would get no pleasure from a group of men hobbling around in a circle with bloody, broken feet and magnets pulling on their balls drinking my piss out of a bucket and thanking me. I’m a professional scientist.”

She leaned down and attached two more magnets to the column hanging from his balls, just to see the skin stretch a little more. “Of course, some filthy boys might enjoy that.” She wrapped a hand around the chain on the cuffs as he got to the next magnet, and held him up so she could whisper in his ear. “Maybe at the end of the day, I’d let anyone who wanted to jerk off into the bucket. Of course, it’d still be there the next day when they wanted a drink.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the weight pulling down on his balls, the dull ache of the twine sawing into the sensitive skin. The cuffs chafed his wrists, and left him hyper-aware of his helplessness, his utter inability to prevent hurt and degradation. He imagined himself on his knees, his skin tortured and raw from the sun, faced with a bucket of diluted piss and cum, and still so thirsty he would shove his face into it and drink, and thank her. He felt her let go of his cuffs, and sank down until the magnet latched onto the others in the column.

He stood up with a wince, and she reached around him to fondle his cock. “Does that sound like a good reward?”

“Yes ma’am.” He whimpered the words, his eyes tightly closed.

She nodded, feeling her breath get faster. “Go get the bucket from under the sink then, and if you’re very good, and you pick up all the magnets, you can be my bucket bitch. You might even get to eat dinner out of it, if I can think of something that goes well with cum and piss.”

He nodded and shuffled off towards utility closet where they kept the bucket. She wondered if the handle had enough metal he could pick it up with the magnets, and then shrugged. If not, he could wear it around his neck while he picked up the rest of the magnets.

She unfastened the top button of her lab coat, and felt her chest getting hotter. Her hand flitted towards her cunt, but she made it stop. She wanted to keep herself on the edge, desperate to see him suffer a little more, until the experiment ended.

For science.

Preview: He glanced back at the screen and paused the game. “What kind of list?”

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Scene From a Burger Restaurant: Reality

A continuation of the previous story.

He waited in the garage, kneeling on concrete with his pants around his ankles, hands cuffed behind his back, leashed to the wall, and a garbage bag wrapped around his head. The jagged edges of plastic from the hole she had torn in the trash bag fluttered around his mouth.

He heard her footsteps coming back, and licked his lips. A slight rustle of plastic, and her fingers were in his mouth, pulling his jaw apart. Cold stands of noodles and tomato sauce slid past his lips, and worked their way into his mouth. “Chew.”

His jaw started to work, reducing the food to paste, mixing it with saliva.

Her voice loomed above him. “Swallow.”

His throat contracted, and he forced himself to swallow.

Latex slid into his mouth, a round column of hard plastic. “Suck.”

He started to suck on the dildo, sliding his lips up and down, gagging slightly as it hit the back of his throat. His head lurched forward as it slid away and his lips popped as it came out of his mouth.

“Disgusting. You got your filth all over my favorite cock, you’re going to have to clean that mess up.” The dildo slid back through the hole in trash bag into his mouth, and he started to lick down its length and suck on it. Lifting himself higher on his knees to get more in his mouth, he blindly tried to cover every vein and crevice with his tongue to clean it off.

“Oh, are you getting hard? Sure you want to do that?” The words brought him back, reminded him of being chained to a dumpster in a dirty alley, waitresses and busboys coming out to humiliate and degrade him, cover him in the scraps of food left behind by strangers.

The thought made him whimper, and he realized his cock was getting harder. He shook his head no, and tried to plead with the cock in his mouth. To not be dragged out to the trunk of the car, driven to an alley, and left there like a random hole for strangers to fill with garbage.

She laughed above him, enjoying the garbled sounds coming out of his mouth. “Okay, I’ll help you this once.” The toe of her boot flicked into his balls, and his body jumped. The wretched sounds coming out of his mouth suddenly got louder, and she kicked his balls a second and third time, until his cock was totally limp.

“You should say thank you.” She slid the cock out of his mouth long enough for him to swallow hard and take a deep breath.

“Thank you for keeping my cock from getting hard, ma’am.”

She smiled and nodded slightly, then took another handful of leftover spaghetti and shoved it into his mouth. She shoved it back, then scooped up the strands hanging out of his mouth and shoved them in the gaping hole in the plastic bag. She reached in her bag again, and pulled out a jug of milk. A little bit of white liquid sloshed in the bottom, and a slightly sour smell hit her nostrils as she opened the lid.

She held his head back as he chewed, and poured it in his mouth.

He gasped and sputtered, the milk running down his chin and across the skin of his neck. He kept chewing, swallowing and making contorted faces under the plastic. She didn’t wait for him to finish this time, shoving the dildo into his mouth and grinding it against the food there.

The dildo smashed the food against his tongue, teeth, and cheeks until it was reduced to a disgusting pulp. Some he swallowed, some fell out of his mouth, dragged past his lips by the cock fucking his face.

She dragged more food out of the bag, and shoved more in his mouth whenever it started to look less than full. “You’re disgusting, you’re not even a very good dumpster.” She looked down and sighed happily. “And your cock is getting hard again.”

His garbled pleas sprayed food, and she winced at the mess in the garbage bag, but still felt herself getting into that mental space where time slowed down and they were the only thing in the world.

“You can use my foot to make your cock soft, but you’ll have to do it yourself this time.” She leaned her foot back on its heel, the toe sticking up in the air in front of his cock.

His body jerked forward, slapping his crotch into the toe of her boot, torturing his cock and balls. He tried to howl at the pain but all the came out past the dildo and garbage in his mouth was a strangled animal sound.

She shoved more food in his mouth and looked at his cock. “You just use my boot whenever you start to get hard, because I am a kind and gracious ma’am. And I swear to god if you get a hard-on I’ll drag you downtown, chain you to that dumpster, and leave you there for a week.”

His body jerked frantically from head to toe, trying to keep his mouth from over-flowing, suck her cock, and slap her boot with his balls all at once. Food and milk ran out of his mouth and pooled where the garbage bag was taped around his neck, sloshing and distorting his features even further, looking like giant garbage filled boils ready to burst under his white plastic skin.

She kept fucking his face until the bag was empty, then ground the rest of the food in his mouth until it was pulp that fell out or he swallowed. She wiped it off on the garbage over his eyes, then tossed it aside, and held his jaw in one hand. He heard her spit just before it fell into his throat, and he shivered in her hands.

She felt tremors throughout her body as his balls slapped into her boot again, and she needed to come now. She spit in his mouth again, then let go of his face just long enough to unbutton her pants and slide them down to her knees, then her ankles. Her panties followed, and she fished one foot out of the cloth and repositioned her feet.

His body humped the air, jerking automatically, blindly seeking her boot to smash into, until she swung one leg over and put her foot back.

He slapped into it with an oomph and she groaned in pleasure. Her fingers found her clit and she started to jerk herself off. She grabbed his head again, partially to hold it still and partially to support herself as her legs began to shake.

She leaned against him, and then, just as she started to come, pulled his mouth near her cunt and started to piss. The acrid liquid shot into his mouth and he gasped and sputtered, then began to swallow eagerly.

She shuddered through her orgasm as her bladder emptied, then leaned over and took deep, hard breaths. Her eyes were closed, but she sensed him growing still under her hands. His hips stopped twitching, and the sound of the plastic moving with his breath got slower and steadier.

“Good boy, good boy. Stay a second. She got the safety scissors out of her back pocket, and carefully began to cut the tape away. The garbage bag fell away in chunks, and she put it in the empty grocery bag, careful not to get any on her legs or boots.

His face appeared a little at a time, sweaty, covered in garbage, and flushed and happy. His eyes were bright, and he couldn’t seem to stop grinning despite the paste of food smeared across him.

She laughed at his expression, then patted his head. “God, you’re a fucking mess. Stay here, I’ll go get some paper towels.”

He licked and his lips and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” His posture relaxed, and he leaned back to take some weight off his knees.

She started out, and he cleared his throat. “Hey, would you really have done that? Taken me down to the restaurant and chained me to the dumpster.”

She grinned back at him, then shrugged and smiled. “Maybe.”

Preview: That’s going to cost you.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Scene From a Burger Restaurant: Fantasy

This is a two-parter. Come back Monday morning for the exciting conclusion, Scene From a Burger Restaurant: Reality.

She dragged him out to the garage by his hair, pulling him through the house with quick steps. They rushed through the door and hopped down the step to the concrete, across the dimly lit cavernous room, and to the wall. She slammed him against it face first, planting his cheek against unpainted drywall and holding it there.

Handcuffs wrapped around one wrist, then the other, pinning his arms behind his back. A garbage bag slid over his head, and down to his shoulders. He could feel the tape wrapping around his neck, cinching the trash bag tight against his skin, screeching softly as it made another loop. The space grew smaller as she pulled down folds of the bag, taping them down, holding them tight against his body.

He could feel the air getting hot and humid as he tried to control his breathing, and sighed in relief as she sank her fingers into the plastic, working them through it and into his mouth. She widened the hole, giving him a way to breathe, and he took long, grateful gulps of cool air.

He winced when he felt his pants and underwear being pulled down, hobbling him at the ankles. He felt her leg in front of his, then she had him by the shoulders, gently but firmly shoving him down and holding him at the same time. The plastic on his face slid along the wall until his knees hit the concrete, dirt and small pieces of gravel digging into his skin. He immediately started shifting his weight, trying to find the least painful position for his knees.

“Stay.”

He froze, and heard her moving around him. He heard her footsteps return before he felt something, metal and hard but flexible, a chain, wrapping around his throat. It pulled against his throat, cutting into the muscle and skin, then slackened a little. He heard a click and the sudden weight of a padlock pulling down as she locked the links together. The chain pulled up slightly, and he sensed her moving around him.

She muttered something he couldn’t hear, then there was the sound of three gentle taps, then louder thuds and the crash of metal on metal. The nail sank into the wall, and she kept hitting until it was about halfway in, then turned to underhand blows that bent it over. It moved to a ninety degree angle, then further until the head of the nail smashed into the wall, securing the end of the chain.

She stepped back, and looked at him. Kneeling on the concrete floor, naked from the waist down, the edges of the trash bag fluttering around his lips as he breathed in and out. The chain was padlocked around his neck, and the free end was fixed to the wall with the nail. She leaned in closer to him, and spoke into his ear.

“You’re not even good enough to be a cum dumpster. You’re just going to be a regular dumpster. I’m going to clean out the fridge now, and fill you with the garbage. Fill you up with waste until you can’t stand it anymore. And…” She trailed off, then leaned in closer, biting off each word and over-enunciating.

“If your cock gets hard, we’ll be doing this for real… I’ve got the car backed up to the door, I’ll pull the nail and drag you outside by the chain, throw you in the trunk, and we’ll go downtown. That nice burger place has a fence around their dumpster, I’m sure I could talk them into letting me chain you to it. You could spend all evening naked on your knees, getting leftover food shoved down your throat.”

“I’d be there to take pictures for anyone that wants them, and make sure nothing bad happens to you. Well, nothing permanently bad anyway. If you are a bad dumpster, say if you puke from another handful of cold, greasy food, we’ll just have to find another hole to put things in. I wonder if you’ll beg for a cock or a woman’s hand up your ass well enough that we’d promote you to a fuck dumpster? I don’t think you could do that, personally.”

“I think you’ll just end up getting food shoved up your ass the rest of the night while your face sits in a puddle of puke. Oh, eventually the food will just fall back out of your ass, but getting your nose rubbed in it will at least get your face out of the puke. And maybe if you eat it, we’ll even stop shoving more up your ass, and let you go back to being a regular dumpster.”

“Do you think you could do that? Will you eat food off the ground after it was shoved up your ass and fell out? Will you be such a good little dumpster that someone eventually takes pity on you, and decides you could be their cum dumpster? Will one of the cute waitresses jerk you off, and then giggle and watch while you lick your cum up off the dirty ground? Or will they just get you close to an orgasm, then leave you to be filled with more garbage? Your cock will be so hard and aching, but without any release?”

“Do you think anyone working there is gay? Will they decide a nice blowjob from the dumpster would help them get through their shift? Will you suck a cock to make it stop? Will you swallow another man’s cum just so you can be a cum dumpster? Will you really do your best at sucking someone off so they’ll drag you into the bathroom, and you can do relatively normal things like sucking dick? Maybe get a nice mouthful of a stranger’s piss? That would probably be an improvement for you.”

“Will you be grateful? Will you be such a thankful little cum dumpster just so they don’t send you back out to be a regular dumpster? Will you simper and grovel and tell them how good their cocks taste? Will you thank the waitresses for denying you orgasms as they jerk you to the very edge, then leave you there? Because I think if you cum, after you lick your mess up, you’ll go back to being a regular dumpster. Cum dumpsters eat cum, they don’t make it. So maybe if you beg nicely, instead of jerking you off the waitresses will let you lick the sweat from an eight hour shift off the soles of their feet. Maybe.”

“Do you think your horrible cunt of a partner will leave you there overnight for the brunch crowd tomorrow? For the whole weekend? Will she stay there to protect you, or just set up a webcam and go home and watch you getting abused for the next three days?”

“You think about that. I’m going to go through the fridge, but I’ll be back. Maybe we’ll do some of those things I just described. And if you want the rest of them to happen, just let your dick get hard.”

He whimpered and instinctively tried to lower his body, but the chain held him up. He held his body against the wall, and listened to her footsteps going away. Her words ran through his head, he felt his cock twitch, and he whimpered again.

Preview: Part 2 of Scenes From a Burger Restaurant! “Oh, are you getting hard? Sure you want to do that?”

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Coin Operated

This originally appeared in the K is for Kinky anthology by Cleis Press (they asked for non-exclusive rights and it was five years ago, republishing here is on the up and up just in case anyone was wondering).

“Kneel down baby, and do exactly what I say.” She licked her lips as he dropped to his knees, then grabbed his head with both hands and moved his face up until his eyes met her own.

“Oh baby, I’m going to play with you tonight.”  She purred in anticipation, and pulled his head to her breasts.  She could feel his warm breath through her shirt, and his trembling excited her.  Her hands held him there, letting her anticipation build, imagining the scene in her mind until her breathing grew heavy and she was rubbing her thighs together, the denim jeans making a raspy counterpoint to her deep breaths.

She pushed his head back, told him, “Stay.”  Reached behind her and grabbed a paper bag, fished around in it until she found the nipple clamps.  They were the clover kind that just got tighter the harder you pulled, and the mere thought of how much he hated and lusted for them made her wet.  “Put them on for me baby.”

His hands trembled as she stretched her leg forward and gently massaged his cock with her foot until he groaned and leaned back, all thoughts of covering his nudity forgotten.  As he brought the clamp closer to the sensitive nub of flesh on his chest, she started rubbing harder.  He opened the clamp and she slid her foot under him to gently massage his balls as well.  The clamp embraced his nipple and his excited moans turned to a hiss of pain. 

“Come on, now the other one.”  Her foot stopped moving, only starting her gentle strokes when he began to bring the clamp towards its target, stopping when he stopped, watching his face and smiling when he clamped down the nipple.  The chain connecting them danced and swayed in time with his hoarse, gasping breath.

“Stand up now.”  He stood up on unsteady feet, and she pulled him closer by his hard cock.  “Tonight you’re going to be my little coin operated fuck toy.  Say it.”

She watched him close his eyes and lean his head back as she slowly jacked him off, moving her hand rhythmically up and down.  He swallowed hard before he answered, and she thrilled at the uncertainty and fear in his voice.  “Tonight I’m going to be your coin operated fuck toy.”

She trembled a little when she heard the words, and felt a hot flush creep up from her chest into her face.  There was a watch in her hand, and she fiddled with it while he stood silently.  She wrapped the band of the watch around the base of his cock, cinched it tight.  “This is your timer, fuck toy.  Every three minutes, it’ll start vibrating.  That vibrating means you stop fucking.  When I push the snooze button, it’ll stop vibrating, and you start fucking again.  I’ll give you a quarter each time, since you’re a coin operated fuck toy.”

Standing up, she showed him the ball gag first.  Licking it lewdly, she ran her tongue around both sides, letting it shine with her spit.  She sucked it into her mouth, then pulled it out by the straps and watched his eyes widen at the “Pop” it made when it slid past her lips.  “Fuck toys don’t speak.”  He opened his mouth wide, and she slipped the red rubber sphere in and tightened the buckle.  The look of his jaw, so distended and unnatural, the straps making a harsh line around his face made her thighs tremble.

“Fuck toys don’t see.”  She wrapped the blindfold around his head, covering his eyes.

“Fuck toys don’t have hands.”  She could feel the reluctance in his arms as she pulled them behind his back, and rubbed herself on his leg.  Even through her clothing the friction made her moan as she ground hot pussy into his thigh, and she barely forced herself to stop when the resistance went out of his arms.  The handcuffs clicked around his wrist, and she got out the last item, a simple pair of ear plugs.

“Remember toy, the vibration starts, you stop.  I won’t tell you again, and it wouldn’t do any good anyway.  Because fuck toys don’t hear.  A fucktoy just fucks.”  She ran her tongue along his ear lobe and giggled at the moan that escaped the ball gag.  The ear plugs slid in, and she slowly took her clothes off.  Blind, deaf and dumb, his hands taken away, she watched him stand there, waiting for her to turn him on.  

A roll of quarters became an untidy silver circle on the bed stand.  She licked her lips in anticipation and felt her nipples tighten.  He stood over her seat on the edge of the bed, and she found the button that started the watch.  He jumped when it started, the vibrations from the watch were strong, traveling down his cock, into his balls, and back into his body clear to the base of his spine.  Her hand pulled his hardness into her, and she flicked a quarter at him that bounced off his chest.

Her fingers found the snooze button on the watch, and she lay back as the vibrations stopped and he started fucking her.  She closed her eyes, let her hands wander to her breasts, and enjoyed the sensation as he blindly thrust forward, pulled back, and thrust forward again.

She felt her passion building, felt his thrusts growing more frantic and uncontrolled, until the vibrations from the watch alarm traveled down his cock and into her.  He shuddered to a halt, and she slipped away, watching him shake and fight to keep his hips from thrusting his cock into the open air in a desperate search for stimulation.

Her hand wandered down to her clit, and she rubbed herself gently, laughing as the vibrations made his balls tremble and tortured his cock.  Another quarter hit him in the chest and she guided him back in, letting him feel her hand reach down to turn off the timer.  She lingered over the button, pinching his balls and feeling him tense under her hands.  Finally she turned off the watch and lay back, wrapping her legs around his waist as he frantically began fucking the instant the vibration stopped.

She let him fuck, wrapping herself around him and bouncing a quarter off his chest every time she had to turn off the timer to start his thrusting again.  Her orgasms rolled over her, and his followed.  By the fourth time he’d cum, the groans had turned to whimpers and she couldn’t get him hard with her hand anymore.  She leaned forward, and her lips wrapped around his balls, sucking gently and then licking all the way up to the head of his cock.  He tried to step back, to get away from the constant stimulation and orgasms that had turned his pubic region into a throbbing, aching mass.

Her hand wrapped around the chain on the nipple clamps, and she pulled him back to her hard.  She started licking again, gently teasing swirls on the head of his cock followed by long, sensuous strokes all along the length.  She doubled her efforts when she heard him moan, and pulled him in closer with the nipple clamps when he tried to pull away.  Her moans of pleasure were a sultry echo of his gasps of pain.

One hand pulled his head down, and drool ran down the gag onto her heaving breasts, sliding over their contours and running down her stomach.  Her free hand pulled out an earplug, and she brought her lips in close and whispered to him.  “Listen up fuck toy.  The best part of having a toy is breaking it, and I’m going to break you.  I’m going to play with you until you melt, until you collapse on the floor and won’t work no matter how hard I beat you.  Until my little fuck toy is shriveled and useless and burning and aching.  And then I’m going to fix you, all week I’m going to let my fucktoy fill up with cum and lust until he begs me to play with him again.  And then I’m going to break you all over again, and keep fixing you and breaking you until my little coin operated fuck toy can’t be fixed anymore.”

She threw a quarter at him, watched it bounce off his chest and roll across the floor and then pulled him insider her and turned the watch vibration off.      

She lay back and smiled at him.  She saw the pain rolling across him in waves, and watched tears run out from under the blindfold and mix with the drool running around the gag, but he started fucking her.  She sighed and closed her eyes, felt the warm spasms of pleasure roll over her, and wondered how long it would take her to break her new toy.

Preview: It’s another installment of the choose your own adventure series! Tune in for thrills, chills, and… uhm, stuff?

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

The Smile

The rope cut into his neck, choking off his breath every time he tried to move away from her. His knees burned from where the carpet ground into them and sweat poured down his face, soaking into the blindfold wrapped around his eyes.

He didn’t know exactly where the next hit would land. She circled him, pulling on the rope to keep him upright, using it to twist his body into position and hurt him wherever she wanted. It was the thin, flexible rod that left the intense, awful stinging sensation and bright lines across his body that ached more after the impact.

Those bright lines criss-crossed his body, tracing sore muscles and broken skin. The tops of his shoulders were layered heavily, and the space between his shoulder blades. His chest had a series of short, sharp lines where she had only hit him with the tip. The front and backs of his legs were a fractal image of broken shapes made by the rod slapping against his skin.

Clothespins littered the floor around them, the small red marks still visible on his skin. She had put them on delicately, one at a time, placing them carefully as the small jaws pinched and crushed the meat of his body. Then she had savagely ripped them off.

His arms were trapped behind his back, rope biting into his skin, chafing and irritating. It immobilized his arms, kept him from defending himself, and gave him something to push against. The muscles in his shoulders strained when his brain screamed at his body to do something, anything, to deal with the pain.

The plug in his ass was fully inflated. It pushed against him from the inside, the hose and bulb dangling outside of him and snaking across the floor like a tether. She would push lightly on it with her foot as she passed by, the hiss of escaping air and slight movement not letting him forget it was lodged in his ass.

His thighs trembled, the Ben Gay on his groin a throbbing sledgehammer. She had rubbed it carefully on his left ball, then grinning, fondled his right ball. The mix of pleasure and pain had sent him into gasping sobs, but now the pleasure was gone and there was only pain. He sobbed and prayed he wouldn’t vomit, and wondered when it would end.

She never told him, but she was waiting for the smile. That was when it would end. The dopamine and endorphin induced grin he got when he finally let go of everything and the pain turned into euphoria. That was what would get her off. That was when she would stop.

And not before.

Preview: It’s our next needley installment of the Choose Your Own Adventure… erm, adventure! It looks like Navaux’s cock has a date with the needle, but might there not be more? Check back Friday and find out.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Sounds of Home

*swish* *swish* *thud*

Laying on the bed, with his eyes closed, he could almost imagine the muffled sounds weren’t coming from the people upstairs. He could pretend he was handcuffed to the bedposts, on his knees, with a hood or blindfold over his eyes as she stalked from one side of the room to the other deciding how to hurt him next. A thudding pain erupting across his shoulder blades, or a stinging pain appearing on his ass.

The handcuffs biting into his wrists, his body jerking against them, metal gouging into his flesh. Harsh, hot breath pouring out of his mouth reflected back at him. Moans, tears, agony filling his brain, erasing every conscious thought. Shoving stress, anxiety, and worry out of his brain until all that was left was one simple thought: Take one more hit. He reached over and flipped off the light, focusing on the sounds coming from above him.

*swish* *swish* *thud*

Her dress rustled as she moved across the room, and her luggage made a soft impact as she dropped it on the floor. The sounds tugged at her consciousness, reminding her of awkward rustlings as his jeans slid across the carpet in their home. Of the sound of his knees hitting the floor as she grabbed his hair and shoved down. She walked back across the room, just to hear the sound again.

Another hotel room in another city. Work had her on the road a lot lately, and she missed those sounds. Of dragging him from room to room on a leash, but more of his crawling to her of his own volition. Of his sitting on the floor in front of the couch and wrapping her legs around him, leaning back against her, letting her know that he wanted to be taken.

Memories of pushing him down, breaking him into pieces, then pulling him up and putting him back together washed over her. Of seeing how strong he was, and helping him be stronger. She walked back across the room, focusing on the sounds, and flopped down on the bed, looking up at the usual painting of a landscape on the wall.

*swish* *swish* *thud*

She was checking to see how many bars she had when the phone rang. His name flashed across the screen, and she smiled.

Preview: She never told him she was waiting for the smile.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Smells

“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.