He stood in the queue waiting the cold had made his skin into goose flesh, and he was sure people could see the outline of the black plug he held within. His nipples tightening made the small subtle clamps bite deeper and here he stood trying to calm himself, his body invaded with Her, his nipples on fire, collecting the groceries she had told him to fetch.

As he stood he waited for the shop assistant to bring the bags, She had ordered early and had sent him to collect them, not before she had teased and played with him. Each step had reminded him of her, that he was hers, the delicious feeling as the plug ground as he stepped, the rushing wind making his nipples twist within the small savage clamps, the ticking of his watch, 30 minutes was the time she had given him, smiling knowing with the plug he wouldn’t dare run for fear that it would fall, the horror of the idea made him shiver, perhaps by a bus stop in the street, the shape and color leaving no excuses except for utter humiliation. She had made him wear baggy light clothing just to make sure this could happen, knowing him so well. He had 20 minutes left, he would make it with ease, his heart lightened, smiling knowing he would please her, complete his chores.

He felt the vibrating of his phone and withdrew it from his pocket, seeing her face and name upon the screen he knew, with a sinking feeling that things had seemed too easy thus far. He answered
“are you in the shop?” her voice silky as a rope, a hang mans rope waiting for the trapdoor to be opened
“y y y yes” he stammered
“ y y y yes” she mimicked falsetto “is that how you fucking address me?”
“no Mistress, Sorry Mistress” his face burned now scarlet and he saw the first of the fellow shoppers look towards him.
“ooo I bet that got a reaction didn’t it, do you know what is happening now my little one?” she cooed
“the shop assistant is putting in all the order changes I have just made, seems as always I have him hopping about substituting a hundred little things as your time ticks away” she laughed “maybe you’ll have to run? Maybe that tight little hole of your wont hold in my nice plug, imagine if it fell onto the street, all those people knowing what a dirty little weirdo you are, your arse plugged up”
“Please Mistress…” he trailed as she snapped back
“Don’t please Mistress me, late is late, is the little man done yet?”
He strained his head looking and sure enough the small bald man came holding a sack of groceries.
“yes Mistress” the relief in his voice palpable.
Laughing softly knowing he could hear the transition into a more seductive tone “Do you know what is in that bag? All sorts of goodies for you to eat, if you make it, you can devour them, and I shall let you eat them from me, you’d like that wouldn’t you, your tongue chasing honey across my breasts, the sweet musk of my pussy, sweetened further by chocolate?”
His heart rate raced and he saw her in his mind, felt his tongue, dried and stuck to the roof of his mouth, explore his teeth, his whole body coming alive at the mere thought of touching her, he felt also the rising of his arousal, sweating trying to banish thoughts of her as she whispered more into his ear, telling him how right now, she was pushing her fingers into herself, tasting herself he listened intently not daring to hang up as her breathe quickened and she began the series of keening gentle moans that marked her pleasure, his body aching and needful at the sound, sweat forming on his brow, unable to stop his arousal but so aware of where he was.
Struggling to pay the shopkeeper, hands shaking, his cock, proud, jutting forwards against the cloth, light grey starting to stain as his precum flowed to it’s aching tip.

He pushed the money upon to the clerk and raced out forgetting the change, he listened as she came loudly in his ear, telling him how she was tasting her fingers, as he started to walk, run from the shop he could see everyone watching him, his cock, jutting forwards, his face burning, fear and arousal in his eyes as laughing, she told him not to be late and hung up.

Fearing he would be arrested, his arousal so painfully clear within the pathetically flimsy trousers he moved swiftly through the deserted back streets, arriving at her door, with barely 3 minutes to go.

She answered reaching down and grasping his cock pulling him through the door
“you worms are so easily controlled, this” she squeezed him gently, her thumb flicking over its covered tip, shuddering he nearly sent the shopping to the floor, “this is the root of your weakness”

Knowing his place as she released him he began to unpack the groceries, his mind reeling as he took all of the items in, every single one, something he detested, which made his stomach lurch, he looked at her face and she grinned widely, taking with her a tub of olives, and sitting in her easy chair, legs held open She beckoned him. He crawled over, already his erection fading in dread.

She guided his head mere centimeters from her, he could see the puffed lips, the surrounding wetness and smell her strong musky odour, it sang of arousal, of how much she had enjoyed his discomfort as he had stood in the queue she had indeed been pleasuring herself. As he knelt transfixed, holding herself parted she placed an olive gently at her entrance, then wrapping her fist within his hair she drew him forward

“eat”, his tongue touched the foul tasting offering, and even through the overpowering smell of her his, stomach roiled, she pulled his face upwards, hair parting from scalp he yelped
“don’t you fucking dare retch again pig, eat what I give you and like it, I want to hear you thank me for each morsel, I want you to tell me how fucking tasty it is”

Pushing another of the cold, oval appetizers deeper inside she shivered and pulled his mouth to her, it had been such a challenge for this one, in her stable she had many who would please her, who were skilled, but this one was fanatical, he had told her often that he was devoted to her, to her pleasure, but when he pleasured her, she truly felt his desire to please, that he enjoyed every lick and taste as much as she felt them. She wanted to push him, take him further than another little oral loving pig, she wanted him to prove his worth for the pleasure and as his hot tongue dived into her, her teeth clenching against her lower lip, she felt him more than ever, knowing his revulsion to the simple food, knowing that as he retrieved it with his long hot tongue, he was fighting his own body, torn between his desire to please her and the physical hatred of the olive. She felt the olives retrieved from her, watched as he swallowed them choking them back whole, and his tongue and mouth began its subtle wonderful movements upon and within her, she heard his muffled voice thanking her, saying how wonderfully she was to feed him such tasty things, his tongue diving upwards and coaxing her exposed swollen clitoris.. She knew what he was doing, pleasing her hoping to push her past a point where she would torture him no further, and with effort she pushed his face from her aching wet need. Pulling him up, his face already wet with her, she placed an olive within her own mouth, sliding her teeth within it, loving the taste as it flooded her mouth, then as he kissed her, she tasted as he did, herself, and the bitter olive. His eyes alive, she held him telling him to chew and he did his face a mask, as he did as he was told, then she pushed him back down, placing another inside and this time, she let him stay, feeling the hot thrusting flesh of his tongue, his lips as he nuzzled sucked and caressed her need, feeling his body tense as through her pleasure she wrapped her fingers tighter within his hair, pulling painfully, spurring him on, until, she expelling her pent up breath, she orgasmed loudly. He stayed where he was not moving, his mouth caressing her, lapping doglike at her exposed flesh as she caught her breathe, he looked upon her, eyes closed, feline almost purring, then as they snapped open he saw the same mischievous glint, as her hand came downwards grasping his aching hardness, she pulled him upright, her hands over his aching flesh, she tickled taunted and slow brought him to the brink of need, his eyes fluttering, body jerking as if a marionette on strings, she spoke as she stroked him, knowing he would not cum until she said, knowing that she could keep him at this point, where he longed to beg, but frustrating experience had taught him of its futility, she asked him if he wished to cum, if he thought himself worthy, his breath ragged, mouth hardly able to form words, he focussed upon her, his tone from far away where pleasure resides, telling her he only wished to please her, that if it would please her for him to cum he would. She tickled the tip of his cock and released his shaft, his face betraying him for a second, she told him to finish the job himself, watching as one; two strokes sent his body arching, cum flung with great velocity from his jumping hardness. She waited as he too caught his breath, holding out her slick fingers and he cleaned his own fluids from them, then as she walked from the room, crawled behind, sated and happy, she knelt beside him, stroking his hair, and whispered “you know if you hadn’t have forgotten the change, I was going to see how you tasted with the olives…” she winked and stood, watching as this news crashed into his head, denied even the post glow and he followed her towards the waiting groceries.

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