Morning coffee
Do you like cream in your coffee? He doesn't have a choice. Fast D/s erotica.
This is a piece of flash fiction inspired by nothing more than a photo of a woman holding a coffee cup and smiling at the camera. Something in it triggered an hour of tapping away on a keyboard.
Enjoy - and do try this at home!
I awoke alone. Beside me a residual heat from her body was slowly fading, and I allowed myself an indulgent moment with my hand where her body had been.
Bliss.
Slowly I rose, muscles begging me to move slowly. My thighs ached, my shoulders too. A deep burning sensation across my back and bottom reminded me of the night's games.
The toilet endured ablutions from a body abused. Its abuser, a rod of black silicone almost twenty-five centimeters in length, watched from the edge of the bath.
Teeth brushed and face washed, I stumbled out of the bedroom and along the short hallway to the living space. My pajamas and dressing gown were missing from the back of the door, and given I still wore the thin dog collar we'd bought yesterday afternoon, it seemed appropriate to remain naked.
"Someone looks like they got fucked."
She sat by the kitchenette at the small round table, sipping from one of my anonymous white mugs. Beautiful, of course. Ash blonde hair swept up in a loose knot, brown eyes sparkling, red lips full and flushed. The mystery of my missing pajamas was solved.
"Thank you," I said.
I hesitated by the door, unsure whether to move forward upright or on hands and knees.
"You're serious about this subby shit, ain't you?"
"Yes," was all I could bring myself to say.
Long fingers clicked and pointed to the floor beside her. Awkwardly I got down on my knees, which clicked loudly in protest, then crawled to her. She watched over her mug, using it to shield her amusement.
"Mine 'till I take it off, right?"
I nodded.
"So this is it, three months of dating and fucking and finally you show me who you are."
"Yes," I said. A sculpted eyebrow lifted and I added, "Mistress."
She nodded as she put her mug down.
"Slave, right? Anything I want, right?"
A shiver ran down my spine.
"Yes, Mistress," I promised.
Her eyes fixed on mine for eternity as if testing to see if I would break. I admired her beauty, not just the physical form before me but also the memories of her dominance. How easy it had been for her to overwhelm me, and how easily I'd surrendered.
"You need a drink," she said.
In a fluid movement, she rose and crossed to the kitchen counter. A second mug was waiting. I watched as she poured the dregs from the teapot into it, then what was left of the coffee from the night before. She leaned back against the counter, stirring the blended drink and watching my reaction.
"Needs a little more," she joked.
A deep growling came from the back of her throat, and then her lips pursed as she snorted phlegm up into her mouth. The mug was held down, ensuring I could see the thick, translucent globules of spit slide from her into the drink.
"Nearly ready," she said.
The condom from last night appeared, held between her long nails. Skillfully she let the opening drop towards the mug, and the slimy mess that was my spent cum slid out and dripped into the drink. Then she let go, and it joined its contents.
Again she stirred it.
"Better."
I took the mug and stared into the abyss. Bubbles of phlegm and tea leaves swirled around the top of the deep brown, almost black liquid. The condom bobbed on the surface.
"Drink it," she told me. "Slowly. Savor it."
It was as disgusting as it looked. The blend of flavors and its cold and clammy texture clung to the inside of my mouth.
"Do you like my drink?" she asked when I was halfway through it.
"No, Mistress," I said.
She took it from me, hacking up more phlegm and letting it slide from her long tongue into the mug.
"Finish it," she said. "But don't swallow the condom."
The last dregs were almost entirely tea leaves, sticking to my teeth and mouth as they stubbornly refused to go down my throat. A few found their way up into my sinuses, and I started coughing and sneezing. She laughed.
"Thank you, Mistress," I said once I'd recovered my composure.
"Hated it, didn't you?"
I nodded.
"You drank it anyways. Why?"
The answer was obvious. To me at least.
"You told me to, Mistress."
She leaned back and let her head tilt to one side as her eyes slid up and down the naked creature kneeling before her.
"I think you might actually be the real deal," she said approvingly. "What do you think?"
"I can try, Mistress."
It was the most honest reply I could offer.
Available on Amazon:
The Politician’s Kinky Wife
Trapped in a loveless marriage to a career politician, Hina escapes in latex hook-ups with visiting businessmen. Never the same man twice - until she meets Rob.
Now she's trapped in a world of blackmail that threatens to destroy her, and expose the secret at the heart of her marriage.