| Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - Playing with steel |
[Sep. 12th, 2009|09:15 pm] |
Comments welcomed, screened and loved]
[Backdated to May 3 - follows this ]
Warnings: Cages, orgasm denial, come facial, light humiliation
Saturday was spent shopping for today's event. It's been a great weekend so far, though with all the shopping yesterday they didn't have much time for play. But there is now a full bondage cage in Misha's bedroom, where he can keep Alyssa locked up for hours on end, right where he can read through scripts and keep an eye on her.
Alyssa has stared at the cage through the night, waking off and on to sneak a glimpse of the black metal. It actually looks very upscale, if one can call a human cage upscale. The rich colors of the red and black throw pillows and padded mat are in vast contrast to the rest of the bedroom, and it's that distinct difference that draws her - knowing her life is changing. It took forever, it seemed, to find the right one, but the one they chose is perfect, the image of it in her mind as she moves up alongside Misha. "Sir?"
Misha is trailing his hand along Alyssa's back, and he can feel her attention focusing on the cage, feel the tensing of muscles in her lower back as she speaks. "Yes?" His voice is smooth, casual. Inside, he is anything but; in fact, he's woken with quite a hard on this morning.
She doesn't know if the touch is meant to relax her, but it's actually doing quite the opposite and between his touch and the sight of the cage, she can already feel the wetness between her legs. When she finally speaks, her voice still has the soft rasp of sleep in it. "Sir, 'm gonna be spendin' the day in it?" Alyssa already knows the answer; it's one of the reasons she's so wet.
Included in the anticipation in her voice, Misha detects a possible note of fear. And it's that note which makes his cock twitch, which brings a smile to his face. "That's correct, pet. It's time for you to learn some discipline. You're going to stay in there while I work. And then, if you're a good girl, I'll reward you." He can think of a way or two to do that. The fact that there's a cushion on top of the cage means that there are all sorts of possibilities; it serves as a bondage table as well as cage.
Alyssa curls in against him for a moment, her heart pounding like mad in her chest. She's never spent time in a cage and the idea is as unsettling as it is erotic and enticing. There's something in the way he calls her 'pet' - the smile on his face - that brings a light shiver. "Discipline, Sir? How so?" Wiggling slightly, she finally looks up and nods, "I'll try, yes Sir." The idea of what he might consider a reward for being good also brings the thoughts of what will happen if she's not good.
"Yes. The discipline of waiting on my whims. Because you'll stay in there until I'm ready to use you--in whatever fashion I choose." Misha's hand moves around to Alyssa's front, rubbing her stomach. The squirming is cute, he thinks.
Thighs press tight together as a cross between Misha's words and the touch to her belly brings on a new burst of wetness that joins a soft little moan that seems to float up from nowhere. "Oh, I see Sir," she whispers out. Suddenly, a new sensation joins all the others inside her and she stills against him, the pressure on her stomach making it worse. "Sir, need to use the restroom now. Please."
Misha tilts his head at her, as if considering. It's for show only; he's not ready for the consequences of denying her request. Not yet. Someday he knows he will go there, though. "Go ahead. But crawl." He smiles cruelly, caressing her thighs. "And then when you get back, and before you go in the cage, I have a task for you." One he's pretty sure she'll enjoy.
"Crawl?" Alyssa's eyes darken at the thought of having to crawl to do something so basic as relieve herself but with the urge growing, only made stronger by the tightening of her muscles as he strokes her skin, she's more than happy to oblige. "Yes Sir, thank you." Sliding from the bed, she sinks to her knees and begins to crawl. "I'll hurry." The sway of her hips is tighter than normal as she concentrates on simply getting into the restroom and doing her morning routine - all the while, ignoring the large cage.
Oh that's fun, watching her crawl over to the bathroom, knowing her full bladder is probably making her particularly uncomfortable. Misha begins lazily stroking himself, listening to her, allowing his mind to wander down paths he hasn't really allowed it to roam before. Everything just feels so right.
The moment she's in the bathroom, Alyssa is up and on the toilet, a light sigh leaves her but all thoughts are still on the man in the bed. She's never had a weekend like this, and the idea of making it permanent sends a shiver racing through her. She makes quick work of her morning routine then, pulling her hair into a ponytail, sinks down and crawls back toward Misha, hips swaying, her stride slower and more sure than before. "Am ready, Sir."
Misha nods at Alyssa, hands resting at his sides, sitting on the edge of the bed. While she was doing her thing in the bathroom, he was alternating between relaxing and stroking himself slowly, just to keep that edge up. He knows he needs to shave and brush his teeth and all that--but first things first. He wants to take care of himself. And then Alyssa gets to start her entrapment. "Kneel in front of me, here, on the floor." He widens his legs a little, cock jutting out, and it's pretty clear where this is headed.
Pausing as she sees Misha's position on the bed, his hard cock, Alyssa can't help but wonder if this will be a morning routine for her - a routine she wouldn't be opposed to in the slightest. Moving back to hands and knees, she crawls toward him, positioning herself between his legs then settling back on her heels before looking up to meet his eyes, a sly little grin at the corners of her lips. "Does Sir need help with something? Anything in particular?" Dark eyes dart toward his cock then meet his face once more.
Misha debates answering, but instead he decides to grab Alyssa by a fistful of hair at the back of her scalp, pushing her face against his crotch. "Yes," he says in a low voice, tightening his fist, pulling at her hair even while keeping her in place. "Suck it."
"Agh!" Arms flail out as Misha pulls her forward and her face is pressed hard against his crotch, his cock pressing against her cheek. As badly as the pain at her scalp is, it's that same pain coursing through her that brings on the hard pulses from her pussy. "Nghh! Yes Sir!" Moving her head as much as possible, Alyssa begins to work against his cock, pulling the head into her mouth.
As her mouth closes around him, Misha lets up a bit on the hold, allowing her the freedom of movement, enjoying the wet slide of her tongue. He sighs in pleasure, petting her cheek, a reward for her good behavior. God it's nice to be able to do exactly as he wants to do.
Whimpering softly against the warm flesh, Alyssa glances up at the ease of the grip in her hair but her motions never stop. Misha's pleased with her at the moment and Alyssa relaxes at the touch. Muscles of her pussy clench and release, wetting her even more as her eyes slip closed and teeth rake over the length of his cock, a littler harder than she'd planned, but her tongue quickly follows in the path.
Misha hisses when he feels her teeth scraping him, and he pulls her off, gripping her chin in his hand hard, glaring at her. "No teeth. I'm not a masochist." He lets her go so that she can continue. That's her only warning. If she does it again, he's going to punish her.
Dark eyes widen as he pulls her off and she whimpers at the tight grip. "Sorry Sir, didn't mean to, honest." Well, this could be interesting - Alyssa spent ages learning to use just the right amount of teeth with Duke. Old habits die hard and, as she sinks back down onto his cock, she consciously makes the effort to keep her teeth back from his flesh.
Eventually Misha knows that Alyssa will learn him enough to know that an extremely gentle brush of teeth is all right now and again--but no more. And until then, it's fine for him just to keep things simple. He sighs, nodding as she resumes things, petting her hair to let her know he's not angry, just firm with her. "Good girl." It feels heavenly.
Alyssa knows there's definitely going to be a 'getting used to'' period between her and Misha - mostly on her part as she finds the things the man loves. She also knows she's as excited for the mistakes as she is the successes, since both are learning experiences in the new life she's entering. Getting lost in the act once again and, as Alyssa purrs around him at the praise in how she's doing, her hand snakes to between her own legs as teeth slide over the shaft of his cock.
So she wants a punishment, it appears. "Stop." Misha commands. "Hold up both your hands for me." If she can't ask and thinks she can do as she pleases, she's got another thing coming. He looks at her sternly. "You don't have to go in the cage today, you know. I could just leave." See what she thinks of that.
It's more the sound of his voice than the word that causes Alyssa to yank back and look upward, unsure for a moment what she's done that brought that sound out of him again. She holds up her hands as he instructs and it hits her - the wetness of her fingers. "Don't have to go, but..." her thoughts swirl as she stares at him. "You'd leave? Please Sir, 'm sorry. I promise it won't..." Dark eyes lower as her shoulders slump - that's not a promise she can make. "I'll try not to let it happen again.
It's more the teeth than the fact she tried to touch herself without permission that is pissing him off. That part he can at least understand. "I can help with that," Misha says in a level tone, reaching over to his toy bag to pull out a short length of rope. He ties her wrists together firmly, leaving a length of rope which he then tied around her shoulders, leaving her unable to lower her hands, held like a prayer at breast level. "But stop it with the teeth." He does nothing else. To smack her would not be a punishment, not to her. It'll be more the lack of play with her that he'll use for punishment.
Alyssa watches quietly as Misha pulls the rope out, but her eyes never leave his face as he begins to bind her hands. It's an odd weight on her neck, but she realizes if she keeps her hands held just a bit up, the pressure on the back of her neck isn't so bad. "Thank you for your help, Sir," she murmurs, wiggling her fingers before linking them together between her breasts. "No more teeth, Sir, promise. Duke liked teeth, Sir, so I learned to use teeth with him." Alyssa leans inward, wide dark eyes still on her sir. "Please, don't leave. Can I continue, Sir?"
Misha nods, but he keeps his face serious. "No. You will kneel there, and I am going to jerk off and come on your face. Then you'll go into the cage. You'll get to smell of me all day." He appreciates her candor, and really, while not letting her blow him is a punishment, he considers her humiliation a little reward for her honesty. He has a feeling that deep down, she'll get off on it too.
Alyssa's chin drops slightly and a small little gasp leaves her. "Sir's gonna...and then," her eyes flit toward the cage then dart back to Misha's face, "on my face?" She does her best to keep her face straight, but there's no way to hide the slight rock of her hips. "I've never worn..." The very idea of it is more than just a little humiliating, the pleasure brought on by that hampered, however, by the knowledge that she's let Misha down.
"Yeah, somehow I didn't think your last Dom did anything like that. But your mine now. And you'll learn what I require, and what I like." And he seems to like humiliation more and more as time goes by. Particularly hers. He reaches out and rubs his thumb across Alyssa's bottom lip. "Lick your lips for me, sweetie." He starts stroking himself, enjoying the sight of her there kneeling before him with her wrists tied, smelling of her wetness already. There's more than one good way to start the day.
"Yes Sir. I want to learn how to please you...what it takes. How to totally be yours." Her eyes dart downward as his cock pulses and the touch to her lip draws out a soft, needy moan of pleasure. She knows Misha understands what humiliation does to her, that doesn't mean it doesn't bring on the shame that it should. Licking her lips, her eyes stay on his face as he begins to stroke himself. "May I close my eyes?" she asks softly.
That earns a smirk. "Yes--I hear it stings. But you can keep your eyes open up until then. I'll warn you." Misha begins stroking faster, seeing the shame in her face, the slight blush to her cheek. "How does this make you feel?" He wants to hear her, know how uncomfortable she is.
With everything in her she wants to duck her head, but Misha's made it clear what's about to happen and she knows that lowering her face would only make things worse. "Thank you, Sir." Alyssa's not sure which is worse - the fact that it's not her pleasuring Misha to bring him to climax or that she'll wear his come while in the cage - but both affect her drastically. "Shamed, Sir. Humiliated that it's not my mouth bringing you off," her voice lowers as do her eyes, "and that I'll smell of your come all day, Sir." It also makes her wet as hell.
"Next time you'll respect my wishes so that you can service me," Misha says in a low voice that has gone a little shaky as he continues to stroke himself, hard and fast now. He's getting close. "Or maybe you'll find you like this even better." He can't talk any more. Humiliated, shamed . . . he imagines her on the verge of tears, and the thought almost sends him over the edge. "Close your eyes now," he commands as he feels his balls tighten up, feels himself ready to explode.
"I'm so sorry, Sir," she whispers out, "so sorry, didn't mean to disobey, honest I didn't." Her fingers flex, splaying open then close tight as emotions flood in on her. There's a part of her that can't help but be aroused by the fact that Misha's using her, taking control of her just as she's wanted for so long; the other part, however, wants to hide as the humiliation in her grows with every word he speaks. At the signal to close her eyes, dark lashes fall closed, pushing the tears over that hover there - silvery lines wetting her cheeks. "Yes," she chokes out.
There's trust being developed here, Misha thinks, just before he lets out a cry, rubbing the head of his cock hard until thick droplets of come spurt out, decorating Alyssa's cheeks and throat as the orgasm tears through him. Trust that he won't harm her even if she disobeys, that he'll be firm but never damaging, even in as small a thing as getting come in her eyes. He pumps himself a few more times, coaxing out more, the last bit covering his hand. Which he holds out to her, touching her lips. "Clean me off." That's another reward.
Alyssa knows, even as she kneels there before him, that she disobeyed him and that she deserves to be punished; it shocks her, however, that he didn't yell or scream, he simply did what he should. She jerks as the first heated jet of come streams across her nose and cheek, joining the tears that already reside there. In all her life, she's never felt so used, humiliated, owned and ashamed as she does at this moment. She's also never felt so alive. It's not about her anymore, and soon, she'll grow to learn that. At the touch of his hand, the sound of his words, Alyssa's eyes open and, quietly, she begins to clean her Sir's hand, tongue gently and completely wiping away the traces of come.
Misha quietly watches her, nodding once at both her humility now and her obedience. She's going to be a very good slave, with proper training. And isn't training half the fun? "Good girl," he praises her once all traces are gone. He reaches over to the bedstand for some bottled water, which he offers to her. He'll make sure she gets both water and food throughout the day. "Have a little drink." Then it'll be time to put her in the cage.
Her heart's beating like mad, knowing his eyes are on her as his come drips from her skin, feeling the heated sticky stuff as it quickly cools and begins to adhere to her flesh in spots. "Thank you, Sir," she whispers out at the praise, trying to let the compliment settle in more, deeper, than the humiliation does. In the cage, at least, she'll be able to relax down on her side, even if she's still wearing his come. Sipping from the bottle, her eyes finally turn upward. "Thank you, Sir...and thank you for helping me keep my hands away from my pussy."
"You're welcome," Misha says with a little smile. "And we'll continue doing that until your hands learn to stay away unless you've been given permission." Which he has no intention of giving right now. He wants her wet and aching all day. "Stand up for a moment, Alyssa, and stretch your legs." Because that'll be the last stretch they get for a few hours.
"Yes Sir." She tries to wiggle her hands free but the freedom just isn't there - and yes, that affects her just as much as everything else is - Misha controls her in that moment in every way. "Oh, thank you." It takes a bit of doing, as well as leaning on Misha's legs, but soon she's standing, her mind still very much on the cage and the drops of come that speckle her skin. "Feels good Sir," she says, stretching as much as the ropes allow then bending over at the waist.
Misha allows her a couple moments to stretch and walk around, staying nearby to steady her in case she needs it, her hands tied as they are. Then he decides it's time to move things forward. "All right, come on over to the cage. Kneel down--you can scoot yourself in there backwards if that's easier." He's sure it will be a little tricky without her hands. Feeding her breakfast should be interesting as well. He wonders how quickly she'll notice the water dish in the cage as well--a puppy water dish.
It feels good to stretch and move around, having not done so since she woke, but the moment Misha speaks, Alyssa freezes, her eyes going wide as they dart to the item she's spent the night waking to look at. She trusts Misha, but the fear and humiliation of being caged like an animal has her heart racing. Alyssa's not big by any stretch of the imagination; she'll be able to move around a bit and sit comfortable in the cage but standing or stretching out isn't going to happen. "Sir, I,uhm ..." she stammers out, not finding a reason to postpone the cage, "yes, Sir." Going to him and kneeling down, she scoots inside the door on her knees and belly, eyes immediately catching the brightly colored puppy bowl. "Sir? What's the bowl for? I don't drink out of a," and realization hits, "water bowl?" She nearly comes right there.
"You do while you're in the cage," Misha tells her blithely. He sees the expression on her face, and he thinks it's a good one, but it can be difficult to tell sometimes. "Tell me how that makes you feel. Be honest with me." Half his enjoyment is hearing how what he's doing to her makes her uncomfortable, makes her humiliated and turned on at the same time. It's a lovely sort of symbolic thing.
Dark eyes lift up to look through the bars of the cage, "I'll always be honest with you, Sir. Always." Alyssa's waited long enough for this, she's not going to chance ruining it with lies. Her eyes fall back to the bowl - how can something that brings such humiliation bring on such pleasure as well? "Humiliated. Makes me feel like an animal, Sir. Makes me feel...owned, controlled," her voice falls to a whisper as her eyes close, "and wet, Sir. So, so wet. Drinking from a dog bowl, your come drying on my face." Alyssa looks up, dark eyes welling up with tears, "Need to come. Please, Sir?"
After a confession like that he's going to need to jerk off again. But for now, they'll both get to live with denied pleasure. "Not right now, girl. Later I'll let you come more than once, if you're good." He taps the top of the cage. "Now in you go. I have some things to take care of." Breakfast, for starters.
Alyssa moves on inside the cage, eyes watchful of the bowl as if the thing will jump out and bite her at some point. While the pillows definitely make it more comfortable, it doesn't detract from the fact that it is a cage. "Yes Sir, I'll be good." She just hopes she can actually live up to those words. "Breakfast sounds good," she says, belly rumbling at the empty feeling inside, "what are we having?" Moving up and onto the pillows, she situates herself as best she can then watches as Misha lowers the door of the cage.
"I think we'll be having waffles. I'm pretty sure I can handle a waffle iron," Misha says good-naturedly as he locks the cage. That done, he leaves her for a moment for a much needed morning piss and shave. Leave her to her humiliation and her thoughts for a bit. "Be aware of what you're thinking while you're in there, Alyssa. I may have you write down your thoughts later." Both for her training as a slave . . . and for his enjoyment as Master.
She knows it's going to happen, but as the latch hooks closed, Alyssa jumps, the sound of metal-on-metal in the room sinking down to her core. Caged. Tied and caged and... Her head snaps up as she hears his words and realizes he's moving toward the bathroom. Part of her wants to struggle at the ropes that have her tied - free herself in some way - but she's promised she'll at least try to be good, and the idea of coming later drills that thought into her mind. Her eyes go to the dog bowl once more then close. "A dog bowl," she whispers, tears on the rims of her eyes, "I'm drinking from a dog bowl." She never realized humiliation could feel so good.
While shaving, Misha allows himself a moment of reflection, allows a doubt or two to creep forward to where he can deal with them, push them away. Everything seems to be going well so far. He's been tough on her, but he knows, feels it's what she needs. He's not a monster. His instincts are working just fine, thank you. And he's certainly enjoying himself. Rinsing off his face, he takes a moment to peek into the bedroom at Alyssa in the cage, quietly watching her.
For just a moment, she wonders what must be wrong with her that she can be this aroused by being humiliated. She wants this though and Misha is willing to give it, take her in and care for her as his slave. With a glance to the bathroom, she decides to try for a drink. She can't close her eyes - has to judge the distance to the bowl - so, as she spreads her knees just as wide as the cage will allow, she leans forward. Alyssa knows if she tips the bowl up, she'll spill it in the cage and the water isn't full enough to sip from so, as she dips her head down, a soft pink tongue flicks out to lap at the water - that is until she sees the white swirls in the bowl. It's coming off in the water?
When Misha sees Alyssa staring at something in the water bowl, he just has to walk over to see what it is--a bug? Ew, hopefully not. And when he realizes what it is . . . he bites his lip, but he can't help but look amused. It was something he suspected might happen. "It's all right." And he'll change it in a few--it won't hurt her for now. He reaches in to give Alyssa a little pet on the head, then heads to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Alyssa looks up as Misha nears, embarrassed that he's seen her attempting to learn to drink from a puppy bowl. She knows at some point during the time in the cage he's bound to see her, but she'd been hoping to learn before he did. Nuzzling into his touch, she watches him head for the kitchen. "I'd like milk, please," she calls after then turns back to the water. Now, not only does she smell of him, she'll taste him every time she takes a drink. Sitting back against the cage, she waits for her Sir to return.
Misha takes his time in the kitchen preparing waffles with syrup, pouring some milk for Alyssa and finding some orange juice for himself. He's in a good mood, humming to himself--hey, it's been ages since he actually cooked for someone, since he actually had someone over on Sunday morning that he could cook for. It's a nice feeling. Now how weird would it be if Milo were here in the mix? Would they tolerate each other? Or would it just be too fucking weird?
Once breakfast is done, he heads back into the bedroom, setting the plates on the floor by the cage and sitting down to where he'll be able to feed Alyssa through the bars. She's not coming out until later, until he's certain she's had a good taste of what it feels like to be in there an extended amount of time. He holds the glass of milk for her. "Have a drink of this first." Again, this should be interesting.
Confusion takes over, the emotion evident on her face as she watches Misha return to the bedroom and place the plates on the floor. "Sir, I...but, don't I get to..." Her eyes go to the door then back to Misha, "Don't I get to come out to eat?" Her question's more than answered as he holds the glass out for her - through the bars - to take a drink. "Yes Sir," she says quietly then leans forward to attempt to take a drink; it's at least better than the bowl.
"Not today, because it's your first day. Other times . . . depending on your behavior," Misha answers smoothly, taking a sip next of his orange juice and then a few bites to eat. He gets a forkful of waffle dripping with syrup for Alyssa to taste.
"How much will I stay in here? I know it'll be my place to sleep sometimes." As she watches him cut into the waffle and begin to eat, Alyssa says a silent little thanks that at least he isn't feeding her from a dog dish. Stomach growling, she leans into the offered bite as much as she can - that doesn't stop the syrup from dripping down to trail a line down her right breast.
"You won't be in there all the time, but I will have some longer stints just so that you can experience that and know what it feels like. I'll pretty much let instinct guide me at first, and then we'll see how things go." He hasn't really decided how Alyssa's typical day will go once this goes full time. Really he needs to see more of her needs and her limits before he can make those kinds of determinations. He feeds her more, fascinated by watching her eat.
"These 're good, Sir. Thank you." As Misha feeds her the waffle, two things come to her mind; the man is a very good cook of waffles and it's a good thing her hands are tied because as wet as she is at the moment, there's no way she'd be able to leave herself alone. There's something very primal about being fed by the man that will be her Master and she loves every moment of it. "Longer stints, Sir? Like a couple days?" Captive by her Sir. That thought draws a light whimper as she takes the next bite.
"Yes," Misha answers immediately. That she asks tells him that she wants it. He continues eating and feeding her, alternating things and smiling at her compliment. He doesn't do a whole lot in the kitchen (the barbeque is another story), but he's proud that he can at least make a few things. "I'm going to be reading over my scripts for a while after this. And I'll be rehearsing. You are to be quiet during those times unless you need something." He gives her a look. "And don't forget to ask for permission for things."
"Be quiet, I understand Sir." Doing that will be another story since quiet has never been her strong point. Even on the set of Charmed, it was often joked that she needed to be put in solitary just to be kept silent for a moment. She pulls back from the next offered bite. "I'm full, Sir. That was good, thank you." Alyssa's eyes go to the bowl, then back to Misha. "Sir, the water's in here, do I still need to ask permission for it?" In the back of her mind, she wonders what she looks like - Misha's come drying on her face and cheeks, chin and chest speckled with drops of syrup.
"Good girl," Misha says with a nod, and then takes the plates to the kitchen to rinse and put in the dishwasher. He spends some time then doing his usual morning rituals--yoga, for one. He debates doing it in the bedroom where Alyssa can watch, but it's a little too soon in their relationship for him to feel comfortable about that. Yoga and meditation is solely his time, and he can't really relax if he knows he's the show. So he does that in the living room, knowing that being alone in his bedroom will in itself be an interesting challenge for Alyssa. Once that's done, he returns to the bedroom, makes the bed, and sits on it to begin reading over his script.
Yes she's sticky, but the quiet in the bedroom does her good. Alyssa has no idea how many hours she'll spend in her new mini-home, but centering herself seems more than a good idea. Getting into as comfortable position as she can, her eyes close and she lets herself calm - which is a hard thing to accomplish when your nose is filled with the scents of the morning. When she becomes his full-time, she'll make sure to ask about things like her running and mediation, but for now the cage actually makes a decent place. Stretching as much as she can, Alyssa remains quiet - as told - as Misha enters the room, makes his bed then crawls atop it. She does her damn best to stay quiet, and succeeds for the most part, for awhile anyway. "Sir, can I get a washcloth? Uhm , 'm sort of sticky from the syrup and my water still has come in it." Yeah, she won't go into just what that actually does to her.
Misha narrows his eyes at her, considering. On the one hand, she's interrupting him, and complaining about conditions that he's set for her. That should be worth a punishment. But on the other hand, he did ask her to ask him when she needs things. So he sits, letting the silence grow, letting her feel it. "You don't like my come?" Yes, he'll torment her a little first, he decides.
As his eyes settle on her, Alyssa can almost feel the intensity bore into her as she shakes her head and sinks back against the cage. "No, I mean yes Sir, I do. I waited until you paused though and I'm sticky and...and..." her voice drops to barely a whisper, "wet, Sir." There's no way to gain enough stimulation to do anything - she's tried - and the smell of him on her is only serving to drive the need deeper. "Please Sir?"
He stares at her a moment more, and then his lips turn up in a little smirk. Because yeah, come in the water and being sticky would drive him crazy too. And she's been good to endure it this long. "Very well. Wet,hmm ?" He likes hearing that. He goes to the cage and opens it up, taking out the water bowl to go rinse it out and fill it with fresh water. When he returns, he brings also a dampened washcloth, and once he's set down the bowl, he sets to gently washing her off of both come and syrup.
Then he slides a finger down into her pussy and starts playing with her. And hell yes, she's wet. "Nice."
She doesn't flinch, barely breathes, as Misha watches her but the heat in her face and chest grows as she hears him pick up on the one whispered comment. When he opens the cage to retrieve the water bowl, Alyssa starts to move toward the door then stops - she's not been told she can come out - and sinks back on her knees, waiting.
"Thank you, Sir," she says with a soft smile as he returns with the bowl and a cloth then begins to clean her, "that feels good." She leans in as the cloth slides along her skin, relaxing into it. The finger that finds her, however, stirs up the heat and brings a needy moan as she grinds down against him, legs spreading wide. "Yess, yes please! Oh Sir! More...need more."
She's foolish if she thinks that Misha is going to let her come this early in the day, he thinks, grinning as he fondles her just a little bit more, then withdraws his fingers. "Later," he promises, licking his finger and closing the cage once more. "I have work to do right now." And with that, he returns to the bed to continue reading his script, smirking, perfectly aware of her torment.
It's there, her body trembling - almost enough that she could slip over on her own - and then he pulls away. Blinking her eyes open, her mouth opens in shock as a moan of distress escapes her. "Sir, no! Now, please?" Her hips continue to grind against nothing and tears come to her eyes as the edge slowly pulls back from her grasp. "Sir, please touch me again. Was so close...so close, please."
"I gave you neither orders nor permission to beg," Misha calls from across the room, nose buried in his papers. "You're not coming, so be quiet. Or I'll gag you." It would be so easy to give in to her demands; he can hear how close she is, how much all of this is exciting her. But so much of the fun is the denial, the hovering at the edge of release for as extended a time as possible. No way he's fucking that up. She'll get her release and more when he's fucking ready to give it to her.
Alyssa tries to will the sensations back to the forefront, to where a waft of breeze could bring her off, but it's pointless and she lifts her head to look up at Misha who seems so calm about it all. It's his reaction to her, or rather lack thereof, that's driving her utterly insane with need. Duke could have never let her go like this and the fact that Misha is lets her know that she's exactly where she's supposed to be. "Yes Sir," she whispers out past a caught breath, "I'm sorry, Sir." Drawing her legs together then, giving a soft whimper at the wetness of her skin, shifting to her ass, she goes quiet as her eyes focus on Misha.
Good girl, Misha thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud--it's not appropriate for him to praise her just yet. He's supposedly ignoring her, and that's as it should be. But to say that his attention is solely focused on the words on the page in front of him right now would be a lie. He doesn't know how long he'll last, in fact, knowing that she's there in the cage wanting release so badly; just the fact that she's bound up in there, the fact that if he stops and sniffs he can smell her, is making him hard. Fuck, and I'm supposed to be able to keep her in there for days? That'll be an interesting challenge for both of them.
She watches him in silence for the longest time, wishing like mad there was something - a toy or something - to occupy her time in the cage. Alyssa isn't sure how long she's felt the little pang, but as she spreads her legs her legs, bending forward to get a drink, the urge pairs with the pressure on her lower belly. She tries to ignore it and succeeds for a bit longer, but the need grows to where she knows one sneeze and she'll make a horrible mess. "Sir," she says quietly, testing his reaction to her voice, "Sir, I need to...touhm ..." This really shouldn't be this hard and she knows as time goes by it will have to get easier to ask. "I need to use the restroom, Sir."
It's cute, how demurely she says that. Misha nods, setting his papers aside. "Good girl for asking," he compliments her, crossing over to open the lock of the cage. "Now," he says, looking at her tied hands. "Can I trust you not to touch yourself while in the bathroom? Or am I going to have to be your hands today?" Which could be very interesting, he finds himself thinking.
"Thank you Sir," she says, but knows unless she's planning on peeing herself, asking is the only way she's getting out of her cage. Alyssa's eyes move to still very secure hands as she thinks for a moment, trying to determine if she trusts herself that much. She's already been tied; she's not sure she wants to see the result of touching herself again. Misha helping her in the bathroom is more than embarrassing though. "I'll do my best to not touch, Sir." At this point, that's as good as it gets.
Misha nods. Will he force her to go there someday, him helping her in that regard? Yes, he's pretty sure he will. But it's only the first day today. Have to have something to ramp up towards. He unties her hands, allowing her to get the blood flowing back in them again. "Take your time. And you may walk--I want you to stretch your limbs a moment." She's probably pretty cramped up from being in there for a few hours.
Watching him, Alyssa smiles as he opens the cage and begins to untie her. "Yes Sir, thank you," she says then leans in to kiss his cheek; no, she doesn't ask permission to do it, but some things you just have to do. Crawling from the cage, Alyssa holds onto the cage as she pulls herself up, not totally trusting her legs just yet. "Looks a lot bigger until you're actually in there," she groans out as she stretches upward, holding to Misha's arm to steady her a bit more. "I'll be good, Sir. Promise." He's trusting her right now and she's not going to blow that, besides her thoughts are not on that sort of relief.
She stares at herself in the bathroom mirror and smiles, never realizing before just how much she loves being as he's keeping her. After taking care of things in the bathroom, Alyssa returns to the bedroom, stretching and working her muscles. "What're you reading, Sir? Anything I can help with?"
Misha considers it for a moment. "Reading my script for the finale episode. And yes, you could read Zachariah's and Dean's parts if you like." Once she's had a moment or two to stretch, he goes to her to tie her hands again, leading her back to the cage. He sets down the script in front of her to read; by this point he should have his own lines memorized. This will help him accomplish that.
More than just a little shocked at the fact that her hands are being tied once more, Alyssa watches in stunned silence as she's restrained. She follows quietly, however, and crawls back into the cage, leaning forward slightly to read over the script. Alyssa looks up after a moment. "Sir, I wouldn't touch myself if you leave me untied."
Misha cocks an eyebrow at her. "You would before. What's changed?" Of course there's also the fact that he just happens to love seeing her tied up.
"Well, I uhm...I went to the bathroom without touching myself!" Alyssa gives the biggest, and clearly fake grin, that she can. She'd be able to be a bit more convincing if the way he's looking at her wasn't making her pussy nearly drip.
"Good girl. I'm still keeping your wrists tied today. Maybe we'll try your control another day." Misha tries to keep a straight face, but it's not exactly easy with her grinning at him like that. He spanks her once for good measure once he's got her hands firmly tied once more. "That's for being sassy." And if she gets things, she'll know that he liked it.
She watches as he reties her hands, the overly-wide smile slowly dwindling. As he secures her, it becomes quite clear to her she'll never be able to walk in a hardware store again without getting wet. Damnit. "Bu..but control should be every day shouldn't...YOW! Hey!" Wiggling her ass at the sensation, her eyes flash with mischief. "Kiss it and make it better, Sir?"
The image of his face against her ass gives Misha an idea, an evil one, and he chuckles darkly, grinning ferally. "Okay. But just remember it was your idea. Turn around."
The look on Misha's face has Alyssa wondering if perhaps that wasn't maybe the best choice of words in the world. Turning with her ass to him, she braces for whatever it is that he has in his mind, and from the look on his face that could be anything.
Knowing that she's tensed and ready for anything, Misha leans forward, brushes his lips over the swell of her bottom . . . and bites down hard. Hard enough to leave teeth mark bruises.
Letting out a soft, low purr at the feeling of his lips against her flesh, Alyssa relaxes just in time for Misha's teeth to sink in deep. "Ahhhee! Sir!" She knows immediately she'll carry his teeth marks on her flesh for days, but even that doesn't make her pull away, not that she could if she wanted to.
Satisfied at her cry, Misha releases her and sits back again. "There. All better?" He rustles the script in his hand. "Now back to work." He settles in to start going over the dialogue again, all business once more. Work before play, after all.
Tears spring to wide eyes as he releases her flesh and, bouncing on the balls of her feet, she tries to ease the pain from the bite. "Ye...yes Sir, a...all better. Yes." She knows better than to ask him to rub it. Sniffling lightly, she moves to settle in front of the script for her to read from, wincing at the pain in her ass.
After that, the script reading goes well, and Misha is able to go over his lines, practicing them a bit with Alyssa. Perhaps an hour goes by, and despite his concentration on work, he can't help but glance up at her every once in a while, enjoying the discomfort in her expression, the contortion of her limbs. It's making him very hard. Finally, he sets down the script, stretching a bit from his cross-legged position on the floor by the cage. "That should do for now."
Helping Misha allows her to concentrate on something other than the wetness between her legs but she can feel his eyes on her and that alone has her fighting a whimper. With the position of the script, Alyssa's body stays bent forward to read, ass hiked in the air. Looking up as he speaks, she nods, stretches as best she can then spreads her legs wide, tongue darting out into the water of her bowl. Her belly rumbles but something tells her that her Sir has plans that don't include eating. "It's a good script, Sir. I'm glad I could help you."
"Yeah, I've been pretty happy with the scripts so far," Misha murmurs in a low tone. Watching her drink like a puppy or kitten from the bowl on the floor is doing nothing to bring down his erection. He's a little hungry for lunch also, but this sexual tension . . . well there's no law that says he can't relieve it a bit, is there? He unlatches the cage. "Come forward. Crawling." He isn't even sure what he wants to do--other than the fact he wants to fuck her, right now.
The sound of Misha's voice tells her that his thoughts are everywhere but the script and she tries to wipe the drips of water from her chin as she watches the latch to the cage open. "Yes Sir," she murmurs as she leans forward as far as she can then crawls out, falling forward before righting herself as best she can. "Sir, 's hard to crawl this way." The cage time has done one thing even Alyssa can sense in herself, she's more docile and eager to please than before. Stopping in front of Misha, knees spread wide, Alyssa looks up.
Misha smiles, taking his shirt off over his head, unbuttoning his jeans. "Maybe. But you look hot doing it, girl." He leans forward and pulls Alyssa forward onto his lap. "Have you been a good girl today?" Even with her straddling his lap he's wriggling out of his jeans, kicking them off, rubbing the hard line of his erection in his briefs against her wet pussy. As far as he's concerned, play time is over.
Alyssa goes easily as she's tugged into his laps, moaning as the movements of his body alone puts pressure on her clit. "Ohh yes, Sir! I have been, I've tried to be good." She tries to grind against him as he moves, shifting as she tries to keep her balance. Panting out in hard bursts of air, wide dark eyes lock on Misha. "Please Sir, your girl needs to come so bad. Please?" she says, pleading with him. At this point, Alyssa could care less how it happens or what he does during, she just needs release.
There's a simple way to do this, Misha decides as they writhe against each other. He reaches down to pull his cock out of his briefs, rubbing it up against Alyssa's thighs, her ass. "Ride me," he says, fumbling with his other hand to grab a condom out of the pocket of his discarded jeans, thankful that he actually put one in there. He slides it on, and then starts helping Alyssa to take him in. "You have permission to come as long as I can keep fucking you until I've had enough."
It's a bit like riding a bucking bronc as Misha reaches for then slides on the condom, but as he, quite literally, lifts her up and settles her on his cock, Alyssa's head drops back and a soft, keening cry leaves her throat as his cock presses against her already sensitive pussy. "Oh, oh...oh god! Thank you! Can...oh, can come more than once!" The moment she feels the thick head push into her, Alyssa sinks down then, letting the weight of her body drive him into her, begins to rock against him.
It's perfect--frantic, passionate and a bit violent, Misha thinks as he begins fucking her, holding her waist so that he can bring her down onto his cock over and over again. He wants to see how many times he can make her come, what noises he can wring from her before his own control gives out. It's absolutely bliss.
With hands bound and knees bent there's no way in hell for Alyssa to control the movements, not like Misha is letting her anyway. His grip's nearly brutal as he holds her, thrusting upward, the grind of his hips hitting herclit with every pull downward of her body. "Oh! Oh, Sir...ahhgod !" The first climax slams into Alyssa with the force of a speeding train - her body having been on the edge for so many hours - and she clamps down around him, muscles tightening as eyes widen.
Misha groans as he feels Alyssa's inner walls clamping down around his cock, watching her as she starts to come. He doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down, wondering how high he can take her. Maybe he can even make her pass out from coming.
Alyssa finds out, as she comes, that Misha wasn't joking in his words on not stopping. Pussy suddenly overly sensitive, she tries to tighten her legs, bring them in to ease the sensations, but Misha's body prevents any movement there. "Sir, please...ohhgod! Slow, pleeease!" Head dropping back, eyes wide, the angle is just right to press hard against her clit and she comes again.
The first time he could pretty much make it through. The second time Alyssa comes, however, is a little more than Misha can take. As he feels her wetness spilling over his cock, soaking his underwear and as he shoves up into that blissful tightness he gives a groan. It's only seconds later, then, that he starts to come as well, fucking her until his own climax is past, making him light-headed and groggy.
Huge tears spill down her cheeks as the rush from the climaxes, and the hours of being on the very brink of them, hit her. Slender hips continue to rock downward in small, needy pulses as she feels Misha's cock pulse inside her, slowing and finally stopping before she sinks forward, going limp against him. Breath catching in small hiccups of air, Alyssa lifts her head just enough to press a kiss to his jaw. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much."
Misha has a feeling that neither of them will be moving much for the rest of the day. But that's just fine. "You're welcome. I think we're going to have a wonderful thing here, you and me." If this is any indication? Yeah, it's all the stuff of his dreams. He kisses her back, holding her gently. |
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