We’ll See

“I was thinking…”

“Oh boy.” They put down their phone and looked up, half smiling, but with a slight narrowing of their eyes as well.

“Hurtful.” He smiled and mock frowned back. “But I think this a good idea: What if I ran the errands while you got a massage? Ninety minutes, my treat. The errands should take me about that long, and I can pick you up after.”

They considered carefully. He was, reliable. He was, dependable. He would certainly do his best. He also sometimes lived in a world a few degrees off from most people, and didn’t always do things in quite the way they expected. It was often charming, generally amusing, and almost always interesting but could still lead to unintended consequences. But a massage instead of fighting for parking and weaving through the crowds was very tempting, and he seemed invested in the idea. “That’s really sweet of you. Are you sure you’ll be okay in the, as you call it, ‘fancy pants’ grocery store?”

He smiled and handed her his phone. Their shopping list was entered into a virtual cart and ready to be picked up curbside. They scrolled through it and adjusted a quantity here, made a last minute substitution there, and handed it back. “Very well, I consent to getting a massage while you toil in the parking lots and stores, but only because I care about you so much.”


Strong hands kneaded tight muscles and the sound of slow, deep breaths filled the room. Their mind drifted, floating lazily through scenarios. Half formed thoughts and desires that had occurred to them while they were busy with other things and been filed away for later. Maybe later was now?

By the time their massage was over and he pulled up outside, they had a plan in mind. They opened the passenger door and hopped in, giving him a smile. “Everything go all right?”

He nodded and checked the mirror as he pulled into traffic. “The checkout people were chatty, and I am obliged to inform you that Neal the bagger’s daughter was a pumpkin for Halloween, and just so cute, but through the infinite suffering of small talk I have somehow survived.”

They nodded with mock sincerity. “Truly, you have suffered as none have before. They shall name you the Martyr of Saturday Errands and your name shall ring through the ages.”

He started to reply but they cut him off. “Speaking of suffering, you should stop by the sex toy store on the way home.”

He licked his lips, whatever he was going to say gone from his mind. “What-“

“Nope. You’ll wait in the car. If you’re a good boy you’ll find out when we get home.”


“I could carry this stuff up, if you like. Even put it away if you want.”

“Are you trying to stay on my good side for some reason?” They smiled and waved the bag he was by far the most interested in in front of him, keeping it carefully closed. “That’s sweet of you, but I’m going up anyway and I’ll take an armload. Then I’m going to hop in the shower, and you can meet me in the bedroom when you’ve carried up the rest.”

They heard him come in to the bedroom and close the door while they were still in the shower. They were done but stood under the water a few more minutes. The bag from the sex toy store was right in the middle of the bed, and he would definitely see it there. He could peek and satisfy his curiosity, but they knew he wouldn’t. He liked the anticipation, the not knowing. They waited just a bit longer, turned off the water, dried off, put on their robe, and walked into the bedroom.

He was waiting for them, standing awkwardly in the doorway, not sure what to do with his body. They gestured at him with one hand. “Your clothes are not necessary. Be a dear and remove them, please.”

He stood up from the bed and quickly took his clothes off, folding them and putting them on the chair by the door. They smiled and looked at the muscles moving under his back, his ass, his cock and balls dangling there. Flesh they had hurt, mangled, and tantalized. Flesh that he wanted them to hurt, mangle, deny, and frustrate.

They went to the closet and took out a blindfold, then sat down on the edge of the bed, and motioned him over. “You would look so much prettier on your knees.”

He walked over and dropped to his knees in front of them.

They breathed in, put on a blank expression, and slapped him hard across the face on the exhale. “That is for trying to peek down my robe at my charms.”

He blinked and nodded. “Thank you.”

They smiled and slapped him three more times, hard. “And that is for not trying harder to peek down my robe at my charms.”

“Thank you.” He nodded again, his breathing a little harder, a little faster.

“Oh don’t thank me yet.” They slipped the blindfold over his head, adjusting it carefully. “Can you see anything?”

He shook his head. “I can see a little light under the very bottom but not really.”

“Hrm.” It wouldn’t matter, but they wanted things to be right. This was important, and that detail would bother them, distract them. They pulled the blindfold down slightly and adjusted the loops around his head. “Now?”

“Nothing. I can’t see anything.” His voice was softer than usual, his breath still quick, a sign he was sinking.

“Good.” They ran one foot along his balls, dragging it up his cock. He flinched at the touch, expecting pain, but then moaned and spread his knees further, giving them better access. They took their foot away, letting him wonder if they were going to kick him or not, then chuckled and scooted back on the bed. They took the time to quickly set up their cell phone on the bedstand so it would record the end of the bed.

“You were so generous, treating me to that massage, that I let you buy me a new toy as well. It’s… highly recommended.” They ripped open the packaging, inserted the batteries, and turned it over in their hands. “It looks just, well, you know, though.” They let him wonder as they shrugged out of their robe, scooted to the edge of the bed, and slid a pillow under their shoulders.

“Let’s try it out, shall we?” They flicked it on, licked their lips, frowned, and took a deep breath. He flinched again as they propped one foot on his shoulder. They laughed, pulled their foot back, and kicked him on his upper arm. He rocked back and yelped, more surprised than hurt, but found his balance and straightened up. So they kicked him again, in the same spot.

He rocked back, but moved forward again. They paused, then kicked him again. He rocked back, and straightened up again. They settled into a rhythm, the coordinated giving and accepting of pain and the connection it built that was so similar but so different from fucking.

When his breath was ragged and his shoulders tense, waiting for the next kick, they dropped their leg on his shoulder and positioned the toy at their cunt. They turned it on the lowest setting and slowly slid it inside. The buzz filled the room, and they watched him as the vibrations moved through their body. “Oh, damn, that’s nice.”

He whimpered and they slid the hard plastic in a little further. It felt delicious, but he deserved some fun too. “It’s absolutely obscene the way its stretching my pussy open though. I was going to get the small, but the bitch at the store upsold me on the medium.”

He shifted on his knees, his cock hard and straining in front of him. They rocked their leg back and forth on his shoulder, moving his body as the vibrations filled them. They looked at the toy and cocked their head. “I wonder what…” They used their thumb to push the button on the side and part of the toy began gyrating as it jerked violently in their hand and they yanked it out of their body. “Ope, nope, nope, we don’t push that button!” They quickly pushed the button again to turn it off and used their other arm to hold onto the bed as it returned to the low setting.

They laughed at his smile in spite of themselves, and re-positioned themselves. “You think that was funny?”

“Not at all, just got a joke I heard earlier. Fifty bucks, same as in town.”

They put their foot on his shoulder again, but instead of kicking this time they pushed until he fell over, landing on his ass with an unceremonious “Oomph.”

They both resumed their places, and the sound of slow steady hum filled the air again. Their breathing got faster, harder, as the vibrations filled them again. “Uhmm… that’s nice… it’s really stretching me though, filling me up… oh fuck it hurts but I don’t want it to stop, the head is almost too big, uhhhhh…”

They rocked back and forth, letting him hear them, smell them, almost taste them, everything but actually see the carnal act occurring a foot in front of his face. They told him what he couldn’t see until they couldn’t think of the words anymore, until the sensations in their cunt were all they could think about. Eventually, finally, they bit their lip and groaned as they came.

Some time passed, until they could think again and felt soft and fuzzy. They stood up, dropped the toy on the floor, and stretched. He was still kneeling, naked, his cock throbbing in front of him.

They picked up their phone and stopped recording, then sat back down on the bed in front of him, and carefully removed the blindfold. He blinked, and instantly his gaze went down to the floor.

“Uh uh, look at me.” They raised his head back up with a finger under his chin. “Do you wish you could have seen that?”

“Yesssss…” He could inflect such desperation in such a short word.

“Then you have a choice to make.” They turned their hand to grab his chin, hold it in place, force him to look into their eyes. “I recorded myself using that toy. If, if you really want to see it, I’ll give you a copy. But you’ll only get to edge to it, not come. And I mean hard edges. Jerking, twitching, desperate to come a slight breeze will push you over, edges. And I’m not going to tell you how many edges you’ll owe me. Might be one, might be one hundred. But you won’t come until I get those edges, and every one to that video. Or…”

He croaked, “Or?”

“Or I’ll get you off right now. No tricks, a nice, full orgasm. But when you come, I’ll delete that video forever, and put that toy away for who knows how long, but you will never see me use it. So which one will it be, pet?”

–Jerry Jones


“Go jerk off.”

His hand stopped, a french fry halfway to his mouth. “Huh?”

“Go jerk off. Stop eating, go jerk off, have an orgasm, and then come back.”

He looked at her face carefully, searching for a tell-tale upturned corner of her mouth that would tell him she wasn’t serious. “I thought we were doing the thing?” He rubbed his hands on the legs of his pants and licked his lips.

She took a drink and nodded, then put one finger on the straw and pushed down slightly. It bent a little, ice cubes moving around it. “We are. Go jerk off, and we’ll talk about it.”

“In the restroom?”

She shrugged. “Unless you want to spend the night in jail, I’d recommend the restroom, yes.”

His eyes stayed on her as he stood up and shuffled towards the restroom, waiting for her to laugh and call him back. She was stealing one of his french fries when he turned the corner and she disappeared from view.

He walked down the length of the bathroom, choosing the last stall that wasn’t handicapped. The door swung shut behind him, and he jiggled the flimsy chrome lock until it slid into the frame. His hands were sweating as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. He started slowly jerking himself off, thinking about that morning.

“How would you feel about doing orgasm control again?” He tried to sound casual while he spun the garbage around and cinched a twist-tie down around the top.

“Hm, might be fun.” She flipped the new bag up and down until it billowed open, then stuffed it into the can and set the lid down. “Buy me dinner tonight and it’s a deal.”

A quick hug and a kiss and they left the house, the bass from her car thumping as he dropped the garbage in the dumpster and walked to his own car.

Thoughts flickered through his head the rest of the day. Of not being allowed to orgasm, of fucking her until he couldn’t stand it then begging to eat her cunt instead, of her writhing and shouting mixing with his moans of frustration. Of the firm pressure of a cage around his cock as it tried to get hard.

The back of his legs tightened and he felt his back begin to arch. He pulled a handful of toilet paper off the roll as his cock started to jerk, and held it in front of him as semen spilled out. He waited until he was done, then dropped it in the toilet and waved his hand in front of the sensor. The toilet flushed with an anemic roar, and he zipped his pants up. He paused at the door, turned back, washed his hands, and dried them on his pants as he walked back to the table.

The black vinyl folder with the check was waiting on the table, and she was standing by the exit, flicking a finger across her phone. He opened the check, figured out the tip, and dug through his pockets. A few bills and he dropped the folder back on the table, sighing at the spot where his plate had been. He walked over to the door and leaned against the wall next to her. “Ready Freddy?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yep, let’s go.”

They pulled out into traffic, and she hummed along to the music as he looked from her, to the traffic, and back. She was going to force him to bring it up, and he knew that after the first few minutes. He would open his mouth, then close it, until finally they hit a long stop light on red. “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”

She rolled her shoulders to the music and mimicked his slow, careful words. “Well, I am the M. Night Shyamalan of kink.”

“I just thought we were doing orgasm control?” It was only half a question.

She grinned at him and nodded. “We are, but control isn’t denial. You’re going to come when I say, and how I say. What you do on your time is your business, but you better come when I tell you to.” She leaned over and punched his upper leg, hard. “And if you can’t, because you’ve been jerking off, things will be very unpleasant until you do have an orgasm.” She raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge her.

He nodded and frowned, looking for traps and loopholes. “May I please wear the chastity cage to help me keep from jerking off ma’am?”

Traffic crossed in front of them and she looked up at the clouds through the windshield. “Hmmmm…” The song ended and another began. “No, then I’d have to unlock you or find a key when I wanted you to have an orgasm, and that would inconvenience me. I prefer to just be able to tell you.” She looked back at him, poker faced. “Is that all right?”

She moved her hand towards the console to skip the song and he flinched. She laughed and pushed next, then put her hand back on the wheel.

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.”

“Oh…” She melted a little, and reached over to pat his cheek.
“Maybe after you’ve proved you can control yourself for awhile, I’ll lock your cock up. But only very good boys get that privilege. So if you’re very good, and come when I say promptly and without complaint, maybe I’ll reward with you a nice cage. Does that sound fair?”

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.” The words were the same, but they could both feel the change in tone, the barter of dominance and submission working.

Someone behind them honked. The light had finally turned green and she slowly pulled back into traffic, keeping him in her peripheral vision. “Poor boy, he’s going to have to learn self-control. How many times can you come before your dick can’t get hard anymore?”

He shuddered and thought carefully. “Four or five times, depending ma’am.”

“Good. And you’ve had one today. So when we get home you’re going to jerk off, hm, I’m feeling generous, three times, and then you’re going to come fuck me. Understood?”

He nodded groggily, and spoke a few seconds later. “Yes ma’am.”

She punched his leg again, and her voice flattened out. “Do you? I want your cock to be sore and tired when you fuck me, I want you to have to make sure fucking me is the only thing on your mind to keep it hard, and when you come, I want to know it’s the last possible orgasms you could have. I want to feel like your life is falling out of your cock into my cunt. Do. You. Understand?”

He rubbed his palms on the legs of his pants and nodded again. “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

She reached over and jerked on his hair. “Good. I think I’m going to like controlling your orgasms.”

“Me too ma’am.”

He grinned at her, and she grinned back, then sped up to make it through a light on the yellow. They couldn’t wait to get home.

Preview: “You’re not very bright, but my oh my you are pretty.”

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 9: Cocks are for Fucking

Part 1 is here

From part 8: “Okay, that’s enough. Put the paddle away. I’m tired of waiting, and next up is one of your favorite body parts: your cock. It’s mine too, you know, because it can give me so much pleasure, and cause you so much pain.” She threw the blanket off, pulled the dress over her head, and looked down at his cock as he turned to face her.

“Oh yes, I’m going to have some fun with this one.”

She licked her lips, and let her eyes roam over his body, trying to decide where to start. Her teeth clicked against each other as she made small chewing motions, and she pressed her thighs together anxiously. She wanted him insider of her, wanted to feel his cock stretching her and filling up her cunt, but wanted him to suffer for it just a little bit more. “Close your eyes, get yourself hard. Your cock shouldn’t need to see me to fuck me.”

She leaned back on the bed as he closed his eyes, and started working his hand along his cock. He tried to ignore the pain in his body, the heat from his just beaten ass and the pain from his feet and legs. The burning sensation in his asshole from where she had violated him with the dildo, and the thoughts of what she’d be doing to his balls when they were done here. He shoved all that deep inside of himself, and focused on getting his cock hard for her, and keeping his eyes shut even though he knew she was naked and stretched out in front of him.

“Getting bored, hurry it up.” She forced her voice into a flat monotone, despite her enjoyment of the sight of him getting his cock ready for her use. Finally she sighed and rolled her hips, taking one last lingering look at the sight of him working his cock harder and faster. “Keep your eyes closed, but get over here and start fucking me.”

He stumbled forward, one hand stretched in front, feeling for her body or the bed, any landmark to let him know where she was, the other still working his cock, keeping it hard for her. His hand jumped as it brushed her outstretched leg, her knee hanging off the edge of the bed, and he carefully lined himself up and moved forward. His fingertips slid up her thigh and across her cunt, and she shivered, sweating in anticipation.

He kept his eyes closed and carefully moved his cock forward, jerking her legs up with his hands, running his cock up her slit until it slid inside of her. She moaned and arched her back, feeling him fill her, then shifted her hips and used her bitch voice: “You’re just a life support system for a cock to me, so get to fucking. And don’t you dare come, or we start over with the caning, and I won’t be so nice this time.”

He whimpered like a frightened puppy, but started fucking her, sliding back and forth, working his cock into her body over and over, trying to position himself to the sounds of her moans. She leaned back and let him fuck her, enjoying the sensation, the slow build of momentum and pleasure. Her eyes slipped closed and she let herself go, enjoying the ride, rolling her body with the feeling of contact.

Then the sound of his hard breathing woke up the part of her that needed to own, to control, to objectify, and she opened her eyes. She clamped her legs around him and tightened the muscles in her cunt, dragging him up against her and pinning him there. “Don’t you fucking dare come. Do you hear me?”

He instinctively tried to maintain the rhythm, wriggling against her legs, then stopped at the sound of her words. “Yes ma’am. It will fuck you without coming for as long it can.”

“As long as it can doesn’t really interest me. It will fuck me without coming for as long as I tell it to.” She held him there to prove her point, feeling the changes in his body as her words sank in, and then she released a little of the tension in her legs.

He tentatively started fucking her again, short, hard strokes that made wet meat slapping sounds as he pulled back, bounced off her legs, and slammed forward. She gradually moved her legs further out, letting him fuck her with longer strokes, loving the feeling of controlling his body. Loving the look of concentration on his face as he forced himself not to come, feeling him slow down as he got to the edge, then pick up the pace again as he got further away. Teasing himself, torturing himself because it felt so good to do that for her.

His arms were starting to quiver as they held up her up, and the feeling of those brief muscle spasms running from his shoulders to his hands and into her thighs sent her over the edge into a deep, twitching, moaning, back arched and eyes clamped shut orgasm. She wrapped her legs back around and dragged him in close, wanting as much of him insider of her as possible as her body twisted and her muscles spasmed.

“Stay, stay right there.” Her muscles relaxed and she watched him through half closed eyes, breathing hard and grinning. Finally, she blinked her eyes and moved her leg up, putting a foot on his chest and slowly pushing him backwards. “Good boy, good boy.”

His cock twitched at the sounds of her words, and she pushed herself back up on the bed. He waited expectantly, and she shook her head, trying to figure out what to do next. When in doubt, stall, and make it look like a scene. “Go get me a glass of ice water, and something for yourself if you like.”

“Oh, and open your eyes. Next we’re going to do something about those balls of yours, and I want you to see it.”

Preview: Balls are for being tortured! CBT fans, this ones for you.

Is this working for people? I usually don’t do continuity, but thought I’d try it, and this is usually more wordage than I devote to a single kink or sex act. Let me know, one way or the other. 🙂

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

The List 7: Assholes Are For Being Violated

The story starts here.

From part 6: She reached over and dragged an old blanket off the end of the bed, and spread it out in front of him. He leaned forward as she slipped away, and she smoothed a wrinkle in the blanket with her foot. “I think that covers the legs. Hands and knees now. It’s time we fill that hole in your ass.”

He slid down to the floor, wincing as his legs hit the blanket, and shuffled in an awkward circle. When he was facing away from her, he lowered his head to his arms, and gritted his teeth at the pain radiating through his legs.

She gathered the things she needed from the dresser, and the smell of lubricant and latex moved through the air. A glove snapped over one hand, and she brusquely began forcing lube up his ass. She’d beaten him down, reveled in his pain, now she just wanted to use him to get off. To treat him like a sex toy bought from a sleazy store for her pleasure.

She worked one end of the dildo in his ass, slowly pushing until the head slid into his body. He moaned as it pushed inside, and slipped in further by inches. He could feel it pushing its way inside, and tried to relax at the feeling of intrusion, to fight his instinct to clench and tighten the muscles in his ass. She worked it in slowly, further in then back slightly, not fucking him, just working it inside his body.

When half of the double headed dildo had disappeared inside him and the rest dangled out of his ass like a perverted tail, she swatted him on the rump. “On your back, and don’t you dare let that fall out of your ass.” He rolled over onto his side, then awkwardly onto his back, feeling the latex flop and twist underneath him. She picked up his ankles and shoved them towards his face, curling his body until his ass was pointed at the ceiling, the dildo still protruding.

“Stay in the position.” She ripped open a condom while he grabbed his ankles and balanced himself in the awkward position. She slipped the latex rubber over the end of the dildo, and smiled down at him. “I think I’ll get some pleasure while I violate you. In the interest of efficiency.”

She lifted her dress, and stepped over him, steadying the dildo with one hand while she slipped it into her cunt. She was still wet from the caning she had given him earlier, and the fake cock slid into her easily as she lowered her weight. She moaned and let herself fall until she felt herself hit his body, then dragged herself back up and down again.

She forced herself to go slowly, fucking herself on the fake cock protruding from his ass, watching him from behind half-closed eyelids. Looking at the bruised and contusions on his legs, feeling his body twitch and tremble under her as he fought to remain in the position. She could see his cock twitch and his eyes get wider as he watched her fucking herself, and tried to ignore the feeling of the cock in his ass while enjoying the view of her body being penetrated.

She stroked her clit gently, another source of pleasure slowly building inside of her, circling halfway around as she lowered herself, then slowly finishing the circle as she raised herself back up. She ground down onto his body, filling her cunt, then raising herself until the dildo almost came out.

Horrible fantasies flitted through her mind, images of fusing a man’s joints so he was locked in this position forever, feeding him intravenously and using him as a fucking machine while watching madness creep into his eyes day after day. Maybe she’d let him keep movement in his jaw so he could beg her to show him mercy. Listen to the sounds of his pleas and watch his pretty eyes while she fucked herself on the fake cock sticking out of his body.

She moaned at the thought of keeping him in a box while she wasn’t using him, a sturdy gag in his mouth and nothing but darkness around him. Would he eventually look forward to being used by her, just to get out of the darkness and his prison? Would she be interested in him anymore then, or would she want another toy, one who would still look at her with hatred in his eyes while she fucked herself on the dildo sticking out of his ass and his own cock hung in front of him?

She groaned and sighed, finally letting herself reach a slow, warm climax, and slid off the dildo. “Ugggg.” She smiled and licked her lips, letting her dress fall back down. “You can put your feet down, now, and take the dildo out of your ass.”

She stepped aside and his feet thudded into the floor. He rolled over on his side and awkwardly reached behind himself to pull the dildo out. It was slick and wet and glistened as he put it down on the edge of the blanket, and winced as sore muscles protested how long they had been kept in the unnatural position.

She was still grinning as she looked down at him. “I could get used to that. But business before pleasure, and now that we’ve violated that asshole of yours, I think it’s time we got on with the list and gave those cheeks some color.”

Preview: The List Part 8, Its ass is for being beaten.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

The List 4: Knees are for Kneeling

Click here to start at the beginning

From Part 3:

He stopped and carefully lowered his body to the floor, laying on his side, his knees and hands still raw and burning from where the rice had gouged its way into his flesh. He looked across the room at her and smiled, until…

“Besides, next up is kneeling, and you’re going to need the breather.”

She flopped over on the bed, tired and warm and satiated. Momentarily. She played back over the events in her head as her breath slowed, and thought about what was going to happen next. Her skin started to tingle, and she rolled over to look at him and smiled. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

His head raised slightly and he grinned back at her. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to wear you out.”

She hopped off the bed, her dress fluttering down around her legs, picked up the trash can by the bed and walked over to him. “Smart-ass. I appreciate the concern, but I think I’ll manage. Give me your hand.” She took his hand and started working the tape loose. The sharp hiss of adhesive coming off skin matched his sudden inhalation. She pulled it off slowly, letting him feel every hair that was ripped off along with the tape, enjoying the looks playing over his face.

She slipped the glove off, dumping the rice into the wastebasket and setting it aside. Her fingers slid across the dimpled flesh on his palms, plucking out bits of rice and dropping them in the wastebasket. His fingers twitched and she imagined the pain from fresh blood bringing oxygen to the damaged cells, and felt the damp warmth of his skin. She ran her fingers along his palm, then let go of his hand. “Other hand, please.”

The tape ripped off again, more hair and skin latched onto adhesive and deposited in the waste basket. The rustling sound of uncooked rice falling out and hitting the plastic trash bag. She picked out the few grains that remained in his palm, and felt herself getting hungrier. She paused for a second, considering. “Okay, down on your stomach. Let’s go those kneepads off. As much as I enjoy them, I’m going to need you on your knees for awhile, and uncooked rice is a little bit much.”

He shifted over so he was laying on his stomach, and felt the velcro bands coming undone. She lifted one leg out of the plastic cup, and brusquely ran her palm along his knee, knocking off the hard grains. They fell into the kneepad, and when she was done they were dumped in the trash, the kneepad carelessly tossed aside.

Her hunger was growing, and she didn’t feel like waiting anymore. She picked his other leg up herself, ripped the fastener in two, and scoured his knee with her hand. The rice went in the trash can, the kneepad bounced across the floor. She stood up, letting his leg fall to the floor with a clunk. “On your knees now, that’s what they’re for, after all.”

He pushed himself up and shuffled around to face her, then rose up on his knees. The air felt cool, and the carpet was a pleasant sensation after the gouging sensation of the rice. Her fist wound itself into his hair and clenched, and he followed awkwardly as she dragged him along and positioned him facing the bed, several feet away. “Stay.”

She growled the word, while she pulled her dress up over her head and off, then folded it and set it aside. She pulled a book off the shelf, something thick and bulky, and set it carefully on top of his head. “Don’t let that fall off. If I have to stop and put it back on, I’m going to be pissed.”

He forced his back a little straighter, and tried to feel the weight of the book on his head, anticipate which way it might shift and fall. She hopped back on the bed, and grabbed a pillow. She shoved the pillow under her head so she could look at his eyes, and sighed. The vibrator hummed on and she started gently working it up and down her slit.

He started to lean forward and felt the book begin to shift. He swallowed hard and slowly moved back, keeping it in place on his head. She licked her lips and pushed the vibrator against her clit a little harder. “Ah, you remembered. If you can get over here without the book falling off before I come, I’ll let you finish me off with your tongue. If not, too bad.”

She teased her clit with the vibrator, running it in tight circles over the flesh, pushing against the nerve endings. He swallowed hard, and began inching forward, his knees still aching. She teased herself as he tested how fast he could go, short, careful movements that placed his knees a little closer to her each time. She watched his progress and moaned, teasing him, driving him on, one eye on his face the other on the book perched on his head.

He shuffled forward, moving faster, desperate to get there before she came. He slid one knee forward, then the other, sliding them across the carpet, ignoring the irritation of the already tender and bruised skin, one knee, then the other–thud. The book hit the floor and her eyes narrowed. She stood up while he trembled, then grabbed him by the hair and dragged him backwards to his starting point.

The book slapped down on top of his head and he winced, then flinched as she slapped his face. One cheek, then the other, back and forth until the book tumbled off again. “I told you to keep the book on your head.” She slapped him, hard. “What?” Slap! “Part?” Slap! “Of?” Slap! “That?” Slap! “Did you not?” Slap slap slap! “Understand?” A final slap left his ears ringing, and he pleaded with his eyes. “Sorry ma’am, I was trying.”

She slapped him one more time, then turned and walked back towards the bed. “Get it right.” She picked the vibrator back up, dragged herself onto the bed, and rubbed her palm on her cunt. The heat from his face melted into her body, and she ground her palm down into her labia, stimulating the sensitive flesh. He started shuffling forward again, and she shifted her hips and spread her legs a little further.

The vibrator pushed against her again, and he started his awkward, painful, shuffling march across the floor, his back locked straight, the book pushing down on his head. His eyes locked on the lewd display in front of him, he carefully moved one knee then the other, ignoring everything but the sight of her and the feel of the book on top of his head.

She ratcheted up the pressure and the pleasure, and he ground his teeth and forced himself to move at the careful pace that kept the book on top of his head. One knee moved in front of the other, inching across the carpet as she pushed herself closer to orgasm. She was panting and breathing hard, short gasps that made her chest heave, as he finally got to the bed, and kissed her thigh.

She shoved the vibrator in his mouth, letting him taste her, and threw the book aside with the other. “Oh god, I thought you’d never get here. Get your mouth on my cunt or I swear to God I’ll kill you.” His lips eagerly locked onto her pussy, the short, stiff hairs brushing against his lips as his tongue worked its way over her clit, pushing against it, rolling back and forth across it, tracing circles around it over and over.”

Her back arched and the blood pounded in her head as she wrapped her thighs around his head, smashing his face tight against her, holding him there. She could feel his tongue and his breath against her cunt, and her hips rolled, jerking his face along until she erupted, coming on his tongue, her thighs trembling and her legs jerking.

“Ugggggggggggggg.” An animal sound came from somewhere deep inside her, and slowly, reluctantly, opened her legs and slid away from his tongue, suddenly sensitive but wanting to hold into the sensation as long as possible. “Come here.” She motioned him up onto the bed, and he slid onto it until he was lying beside her. She pulled him hard against her and kissed him. “Good boy.” She stroked his hair, and finally opened her eyes. “Good boy. I can’t wait to hobble you.”

Preview: Part 5, Ankles are for being hobbled! Aren’t they?

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

The List 3: Hands and Knees are for Crawling

If you’re just starting, here’s part 1 of the story

From part 2… His hand shook as he scrawled out the big, block letters on his other foot. She nodded when he was done, and thought about the list. “Next is crawling, I believe.” She chuckled then, and smiled. “Maybe you’re smarter than I thought.” One eyebrow bounced up. “Or maybe not.”

“Stay.” She patted him on the head as she walked by, and added a little extra wiggle as she left the room. He slumped a little, and tried to ignore the burning pain in the soles of his feet as he forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. He could hear her rummaging around in drawers, and tried to block out everything but the memory of warm, fuzzy pain and submission. His eyes slid closed.

“Off the bed.” He opened his eyes and slid forward. Her back was towards him, and she was fiddling with something on top of the dresser. When she turned, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of the knee pads they had bought last year to redo the floors. She squatted down and set them carefully in front of him. His breath hissed through his teeth when he saw the grains of uncooked rice in each plastic cup.

“Lay down, face on the floor.” He looked up at her with pleading eyes as he lowered his nude body to the floor. Her hands grabbed his legs one at a time, lifting them up and slipping the pads under his knees. The nylon straps wrapped around his legs, cinching down tight. She curled his leg up and pushed down, testing the tightness. He gasped as the hard grains but into his knees, and she smiled. “And to think not that long ago you thought people used cooked rice for this.”

He grunted as she repeated the process with the other leg. “You have to admit it does help get rid of left overs.”

She snorted and slapped his ass. “Not if you order extra fried rice with every meal, it doesn’t. Roll over and sit up.”

He turned over and did and awkward situp while she retrieved more items from the dresser. “Put these on.” She carelessly tossed him two heavy leather gloves stained with sweat and varnish, leftovers from the same project, and walked back over with the box of rice and a roll of tape.

He pulled the gloves on each hand and held them out. She pushed his hands down, pulled the wide mouth of the gloves open, and dumped a generous portion into the gloves. She grabbed the leather palms and pulled them out so the rice could settle between his skin and the leather, and then picked up the roll of tape. “I don’t need you wasting my good rice spilling it all over the floor, and I certainly don’t feel like running the vacuum later.”

She started the tape and began wrapping it around the opening of the gloves, sealing them against his skin. The adhesive pulled the glove down tight against his skin. She stood up and grinned down at him. “Well, you said your hands and knees were for crawling. Crawl.”

“Yes ma’am.” He rolled over, wincing as his knees hit the floor and grains of rice dug into the thin skin and hit bone. He pushed down with one hand experimentally, and grimaced as the rice ground into the meatier flesh of his palms. It wasn’t as bad, but still an annoyance, a reminder that each movement would cause pain.

Her foot hit his ass and he rocked forward and back, hissing as his weight shifted and the rice found new spots to torment. “From one side of the room to the other, until I come. Then you can stop, but not before.”

He nodded and started a slow, shuffling crawl, forcing himself to pick up one knee and move it forward, the extra weight on the other knee bringing a sharp twinge of pain. Then a hand as he balanced on his knees and other hand, then the other side of this body. She grinned down at him, then shimmied out of her panties. The green cloth slid down her thighs then her legs until it emerged from the bottom of her sun dress. She raised one ankle and pulled them the rest of the way off, and considered carefully.

“What the hell, you were good through the caning, I’ll give you a little reward.” She caught up to him easily and pulled the wet cloth over his face, letting the crotch dangle over his face. One eye looked up at her from a leg hole, and he grinned. “Thank you ma’am.”

She grinned back and put one foot down on his hand, slowly increasing her weight, driving the rice into his hand further. “You’re not crawling.”

He turned his eyes back down and started a slow shuffle forward again. She hopped on the bed, lying on her side, and pulled her dress up around her hips. Her hand started to play with her clit, rubbing gently in a small circle. She watched him crawl across the room, his hesitant, jerking motions as the pain shifted across his body from one point to the other.

The rice bit into his knee when he moved his opposite leg forward, and she pushed down a little as she saw the pain in his eyes. She let up as he moved his hands forward carefully, testing carefully before he put them down. She rubbed faster as he turned around and she saw his semi-hard cock hanging below him as he tortured himself for her. Despite his protestations, he was getting off on this, and the thought made her smile and slide her fingers up and down her slit.

He could hear her gasps and the wet, fleshy sounds of self-pleasure as he forced himself to move across the room. When he wanted to fall over on his side and let the pain fade he listened to her breathing, getting faster and more out of control, and focused on that as he forced his limbs to keep moving. He tried to block out his pain and focus on the sounds of her pleasure, to catch glimpses of her from the corner of his eye, to memorize every detail of her half-closed eyes and her fingers working on her cunt as he reached a wall and turned around in an awkward semi-circle.

She grinned and shifted her hips, putting on a little show for him each time his eyes wandered over. “Faster, crawl faster, or I’ll go take a cold shower and order a pizza. You’ll be doing this for an hour before I come back.” She made her hand slow down then stop, linger over her pussy without touching it.

He groaned but forced himself to move faster, move less carefully. The rice drove itself into his skin and bones as his hands and knees came down harder, and the pain came in hot spikes that wracked his entire body. The kneepads made lot cracking sounds as the hard plastic collided with the floor, and the leather gloves made meaty slaps as they hit the floor and drove the grains of rice into the palms of his hands.

She moaned and started jerking herself off faster and harder. He lurched across the room, and she saw the spasms of pain cross his face faster, each one distorting his features a little more. His movements got awkward as his body started to instinctively flee the pain, and it became harder for him force himself forward. He flailed and slapped his way across the room like a crippled animal, and she sighed and rubbed her clit a little harder.

“Ugggghhhhh…” She moaned and came, timing it as he was halfway across the room. He turned his head as far he could and rushed forward, nearly colliding with the far wall before he started turning in a slow circle, eager to see her come.

She carefully pulled her fingers away and let her dress fall. Her body slumped on the bed, and she listened to her heartbeat and gasping breaths, and the sounds of his crawling in the background. “Oh, take a break.” She smiled magnanimously at him, and rolled over on her back. “Lay down on your side. You earned it.”

He stopped and carefully lowered his body to the floor, laying on his side, his knees and hands still raw and burning from where the rice had gouged its way into his flesh. He looked across the room at her and smiled, until…

“Besides, next up is kneeling, and you’re going to need the breather.”

Preview: The List 4: Knees are for Kneeling

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.


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.

Choose Your Own Adventure 8: Needle and the Cock

Part 1, where it starts.

She swallowed hard, then walked around in front of him. “That was good, Navaux. I’ll even take the ball crusher off, since you did so well. But first I want to negotiate something with you. I know you’re afraid of them, but I want you to take a needle in your cock.”

His eyes slammed shut, and he shook his head back and forth. His body trembled, and his shoulders slumped. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” She knelt down beside him and let her hand rest on his back. “The skin and tissue is thin, it won’t even hurt that much.”

His head continued to rock from side to side.

She wrapped her arms around him. “You can do this. Just like any other project. Break it down into small, manageable steps, and do them one at a time.”

He flinched at the thought of the steel sliding through his cock. Cringed at the thought of the needle.

She reached under him, and began to spin the bolts on the ball crusher, loosening it until it slid off of his body. The plastic was hot and slick with his sweat, and he moaned as the weight disappeared. His head still shook from side to side. She tossed the crusher to one side.

“Sit.” Her hands guided him to a sitting position on the floor, and she twisted the cap off a bottle of water and handed it to him. He took a slow swallow, and licked his lips.


She nodded. “You can do this, and it will make me very happy if you do. Take a minute, and get into a better head space.”

He took another sip of water, and shivered at the thought. “I don’t think I can.”

She grinned behind him. “I think you can. Drink your water and take a minute.”

She stomped off, and gathered some things. Coming back, she frowned at the sheets of paper. Her original plan of having him choose his paths and turns… it had kind of gone to hell. She shrugged and grinned. It could always happen some other time.

She threw a pillow down on the floor, and sat down facing him. In front of him she carefully arranged the gloves, alcohol swabs, and sterile packages of needles.

He exhaled and his mouth turned into a frown at the site of the needles. “Are you really going to shove a needle through my cock?”

“No.” She leaned back against the pillow and pulled her dress up, then slid her panties to one side. His eyes locked on her cunt. “You are.”

He twitched again, and closed his eyes. He took a long drink of water before answering, stalling for time. “I can’t.”

She rubbed her slit slowly, and purred when he opened his eyes again. “Oh, I really think you can. Put a glove on.”

His hands trembled as he slowly pulled one of the latex gloves out of the box. Her eyes narrowed and her breathing got a little faster as he worked the latex up his hands, pulling it on further, and working the latex to remove the air bubbles.

“Good boy.” She held her hand out to him, and he obediently sucked on her glistening finger. “Now, another glove.” She pulled her finger out of his mouth with a pop and went back to jerking herself off.

He kept his eyes on her cunt, trying not to think about the needles, and jerked the glove out. The box bounced up then fell back to the floor with a whump. The latex slowly slid over his hand, expanding as his fist filled it.

She nodded. “Good boy. You get another treat.” She held her fingers out again, and he leaned forward, sucking on them.

“Now open an alcohol swab, and rub it on your cock. Don’t think about anything else, just rub the swab on your cock.”

He pulled the aluminum packaging apart, and fished the white square of cloth out. He shifted his hips, and carefully rubbed the cool alcohol on his cock until the flesh glistened. His nose wrinkled, the smell always reminded him of the dentist’s office. When he was done he carefully put the used cloth on the box of gloves, and waited.

“Good.” Her fingers had started moving faster while he sterilized his cock, and she spread her legs a little wider. “Now, just pick up the package, and open the needle.”

His face contorted, and he moved his hand slowly over to the needle. He awkwardly pulled the plastic apart, looking back and forth from her fingers sliding over her cunt to the needle.

“Hmmmm.” She murmured her approval, then held her hand out. “Be careful with that.” He sucked her fingers, and she bit her lip. “Give me a second, I want to come just as you do it.” She took her fingers back, and rubbed her clit.

“Hold your cock with one hand, and put the needle against it with the other.”

He shifted his hips, leaning back and breathing fast and hard through clenched teeth. The needle danced a finger’s space from his cock.

She shook her head. “Put it against your cock, just the tip of it. Don’t push it in, just barely touch it.”

He shifted his hips again, then slowly brought the needle over until it barely touched his skin.

“Ummm-humm.” She groaned her approval, and nodded. Her fingers kept her on the edge of an orgasm, and she watched carefully. “Now, slowly…”

He tried to move his hands, but they refused to respond. He looked away, back at her cunt, and told them to move, but nothing happened. He took a deep breath, and tried again. Nothing. “I can’t.”

“You can, and you will.” Her fingers moved impatiently, willing him to move his hands, to shove the needle through his cock.

He tried again, then moved the needle away a little. “I can’t.”

She breathed out explosively, forcing herself not to scream. “It’s the needle or the bag and the guillotine, you’re going to need to make your choice before I count to ten. One, two, three, four, five…”

What does Navaux choose?

1. Shove the needle through his cock!
2. Fuck it, black bag and guillotine time!

Happy voting!

Preview: Make them convincing. Very convincing.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.