Adicted to Miss J

[probus erectus]

The craving begins the moment the door closes and separates us, when I can no longer see her sardonic smile and stern eyes, when I can no longer see her sensual breasts, her toned waist, her beautiful face. It is the craving of an addict – I confessed recently, I am addicted to J, Miss J.

Relief comes in 2 hour doses. I am currently about a week away from relief and have been dealing with the itch since early fall. I am desperate. My last dose, went something like this…

Knock…Knock. The door opens and I step over her threshold and into her domain. My heart is racing. She is gorgeous, standing in the hall in her 5 inch clear bottom stilettos, a tight red dress accentuating all of her perfect feminine curves, and her pretty face with make-up perfect. I get a welcome hug, take care of the details and ask to use her washroom to freshen up.

When I exit the washroom, she is waiting in the hall with a stern look on her face. “Take off your clothes and put them there.” A command. Nothing to do but obey. “Now come here.” She lifts the collar she has been holding and snugs it around my neck. I am vulnerable in my nakedness and yet close enough to feel the warmth from her body. I tremble. “Good. Now I want you to put these on for me.” She picks a small plaid school girl skirt and halter top from a nearby stool and hands them to me. Nothing to do but obey. She looks me up and down, with semi approval, clips a leash to my collar and turns and strides into the next room. I hurry to follow.

She sits on her sofa and motions me to my knees at her feet, the place I belong. “Worship my feet. You know how I like it.” I do my best but require regular directions and prompting. After some time, she directs me to remove her shoes. “Lick the soles. Between the toes. The other foot. Okay now the top. And now the ankles. And now the calves.: I sense the warmth of her thighs but am not invited that far.

“Stay!” I remain on my knees staring at the floor while Miss J enters the kitchen and then eventually returns with a bowl of lunch and chops sticks. “Are you hungry?” “Yes, Miss J.” She places an empty doggy bowl on the floor in front of me and sits down again. I wait obediently as she eats. Then, “Oh, I forgot about you.” She reaches down for the bowl brings it to her mouth and spits some well chewed rice into the bowl and places it in front of me. She stares at me. I lower my head and eat it. She laughs and repeats this several times. One time she lifts my head, orders my mouth open and spits directly in. She laughs.

“Lick it clean,” she orders and asks, “are you thirsty?” “Yes, Miss J”. She reaches for the bowl and heads towards the kitchen. “Follow me.” The bowl is placed, empty on the kitchen floor. I stare at it expectantly. Then, she laughs and squats over the bowl and in a second releases a flow of pee into the bowl. She stands and orders, “Drink!” I obey. I lap up her pee like a dog. She laughs as I struggle to finish it but I manage. “Oh!” she says I dripped here, she points with her perfectly manicured toes. I crawl to her feet and lick up the drops on the floor. “Very good”, she says and rubs my head. I glow in the warmth and approval.

But it only lasts a minute. She reaches down and taking the leash pulls me forward. I crawl after her into the bedroom. (to be continued).

 

[probus erectus]

Addicted to Miss J (part 2)

“Lay on the bed!” In short order, I am immobilized on my back, hands and feet tied tightly to the four corners of the bed. I am helpless and vulnerable. I am at Miss J.’s mercy. She smiles a wicked smile and places a blind over my eyes. She leaves the room and my imagination takes over.

When she returns, she plants herself on my face. My head is immobilized. My nose plugged and mouth covered. I wait for a moment. Nothing. I wait a bit more. Nothing. I try and move my head. It’s held tightly. I try again and wriggle my body. She laughs. I struggle more desperately. She laughs more vigorously and eases herself off of my face. I gasp for air.

She moves to straddle my chest. I feel her pull my little skirt up revealing my cock. Then I feel her lift the tip of my cock gently. I’ve experienced Miss J.s sounds before and this is what I expect. What happens is different – what she is inserting in my urethra does not slide in so easily and when it does it begins to burn intensely. I begin to writhe about to the extent that I can – hands and feet firmly tied and her full weight on my chest. She laughs. Always that evil laughter in response to my vulnerability, pain and indignity. I am desperate – I can’t stand the burning but am helpless to do anything about it. A moment later, relief as the sound is pulled from my cock. “Open up”, she orders. I obey. A strip of ginger is dropped in. “Eat it.” I obey. It burns my tongue but it’s better than the alternative. For a moment. A second fragment of ginger is inserted and I writh again. After eating countless pieces of ginger, draped in sweat and not thinking about anything except enduring, Miss J. steps off of my chest.

I take a deep breath and revel in my relief as my hands and feet are freed. The burning doesn’t stop but subsides. “Kneel on the floor”. In a moment, my hands are tied behind me and to my ankles which a bound together. Immobile again at the side of the bed.
Still blind folder I sense Miss J. crawl onto the bed and relax. A couple minutes later, I hear an electronic buzz. After some time, I hear a soft moan from Ms. J. She is touching herself. I am feet away – can see and touch nothing – but I know Ms. J. is pleasuring herself. I am tormented by the space between us. I want to touch her – even to just kiss her feet to give her some pleasure. But Miss J. continues without me until she finishes. When she is done she gets off the bed and removed my blindfold. She is smiling – that evil, wicked smile.

She undoes my feet and with her foot forces my legs apart. Once satisfied, she replaces my blind and leaves the room. A moment later she re-enters. “Are you comfortable?” Balancing on my spread knees, hands tied behind me, I reply, “Yes. Miss J” Whack. I wriggle to protect my balls which she has launched an assault upon. Whack. I am unsuccessful and helpless and can’t take the pain. Whack. “Please Miss J”. “Pardon me?” “Please stop Miss J” Whack. I whimper and my memory goes blank.
Next thing I remember is lying on my back in Miss J.’s tub, being sprinkled with her warm yellow nectar as she chuckles when it gets in my nose. “Clean yourself up” she orders. I stay in the shower as long as I dare. My legs are trembling as I head back to the kitchen where I know my clothes are.

She is smiling and standing there with her perfect breasts bare. As I reach for my clothes, I see the remainder of the cut ginger on the cutting board. “Maybe, I should send you home with a piece inserted in your penis”, she teases. I shudder and respond, “No Miss J.” Obviously the wrong response as she took a piece of ginger and grabbed my penis and inserted it. I began to wriggle. She laughed, grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the bedroom, and pushed me onto the bed. A moment later, she was seated again on my face. “Touch yourself and make yourself come”, she ordered. I began to touch myself but didn’t think I could come without breathing. Shortly, I realized that she wasn’t making any movements to move – I had to come if I wanted to breath. I pumped vigously causing the ginger to burn me and eventually came.

And now, next week, I will return to her mercy.