Willow’s Bed
A Fictional SPH Story by FlaggedRaggoon.
I’ve got my arms folded at the edge of the pool, chin on my elbows, staring at the club’s entrance. The water feels cool compared to the hot afternoon air, and the place’s not too busy for a Friday.
Tourists still haven’t figured out there’s a cozy pool lounge with cheap booze right in the city. It’s mostly office workers, happy to peel out of their sticky business casual clothes somewhere fresh before the weekend. Our little friend group fits right in.
Helene bumps me with her thigh.
“Hey, you,” she repeats.
“Hi.” I finally look up at her. She’s got two beers in her hands.
She hands me one with a smile; the glass is almost frosty. What a good friend.
“Thanks,” I say after a first pull.
“Why, you’re welcome.” She strikes a pose, head tilted to the side, eyes half-closed. “Notice anything new?”
“Huh.” I quickly scan her.
Her bikini top has paw pads printed over the cups, like two cat paws groping her boobs. That’s something, I guess.
“New swimsuit? Super fun.”
“You butt,” she groans, before resuming her pose, twirling the bouncy ends of her red hair. Which barely reaches below her jawline now. Oh.
“Haircut,” I say, pointing at her head like an idiot.
The newly Willow-obsessed part of my brain wants to insist Helene’s got nothing on her.
But no, Helene is just objectively pretty. In an alternate timeline where I don’t know what kind of guys she goes for and I’m not the twinkiest boy around, I would have asked her out ages ago.
I get a second thigh-hit.
“What does a girl need to do to get a compliment around here?”
The little blowout thing she has going on won’t last if she actually gets in the water. It is cute, though.
“Matches your vibe really well. I like it a lot.”
“For a whole beer, I was hoping for pretty, at least.” She sighs. “Why aren’t you with the others?”
Because I’m way too anxious.
“Tough week.”
“Oh.” Her face softens.
Helene carefully slides into the water next to me, then rubs my back. She’s always been fairly touchy-feely.
“Need to talk? I barely know what’s going on with you these days. We used to be so tight back in college.”
I shrug.
“It’s not that deep. Just work stuff, you know.”
She lays her head on my shoulder, and I can’t help but notice a few strands of hair touching the water. I hope she doesn’t mind too much.
“Any hot dates at least?” Her familiar smirk is back.
How could I even begin to explain what’s going on with that?
Willow walks through the door, sparing me from having to think too hard. She’s got tight swim trunks on, and… a sporty bikini top? That’s the most skin I’ve ever seen her show.
“Jesus,” Helene wheezes next to me. “Willow never comes here.”
I’m too busy staring to answer. Willow lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she scans the area, raising her arm just enough to reveal the dark tuft beneath. Even that is hot on her for some reason.
“I wonder what made her change her mind,” Helene continues.
There’s something weird in her voice. I look at her and clearly miss whatever she’s getting at.
She rolls her eyes, kisses my cheek, then kicks off the wall, holding her beer high above the water.
“Don’t be a stranger. Try to come and talk to the others later!”
I only watch her paddle away for a second before turning back to Willow.
She finally notices me as I flag her down. She waves, gives me a big smile, then gives me a thumbs-up at the bar behind her.
Thankfully, there’s only one person in front of her in the line. Maybe I should go with her? Nah, I’m better off watching her from here. I can’t help but notice I’m not the only guy stealing glances, and unless this is the annual Abs Lovers Society meeting, it’s probably down to how hard her bikini cups are working.
I’m starting to understand her usual baggy hoodie getup. Crap, am I part of the problem? Then again, she spent an entire weekend gawking at me.
Willow half-jogs toward me with a beer of her own. She sets it down near the edge, then takes a jump, feet first, arms along her body. Her entire head disappears underwater, only to reappear right in front of me.
She wipes her wet hair away from her eyes, letting it stick to her forehead. I feel her fresh breath on my face.
“Hey,” I say, feeling my lips curl.
“Thank God for fresh water. I spent five hours stuck in a car with four people; I stink.”
Doesn’t stop her from kissing me. Not before making sure none of our friends are in sight, of course. It’s chaste and quick, but confirms that she does not, in fact, stink.
“Did you clean out?” she asks as soon as we break apart, reaching above the tiled edge to grab her glass.
That’s a nice euphemism for me squatting in my bathtub before coming here.
“Yes,” I sigh. “You’re starting to make me feel like you’re only interested in my body.”
“You’re one to talk,” she chuckles. “Do you even remember where my eyes are?”
In panic, I look back up to her face. Busted.
“Sorry, I’ve just never seen you wear something like that around us.”
Another quick kiss. She smells like beer this time.
“Well, I’ve never had someone to impress in the group before.” She takes a long sip, then lets out a loud exhale. “Place is pretty nice.”
She points her chin toward my own glass. “This is your first?”
I nod.
“Good. Don’t have another.”
A quick jolt runs through my spine. After all those evenings on the phone during her week-long work trip, there’s something so thrilling about her easy presence. She insisted the conversations were necessary, but they felt so sterile.
Nothing like her telling me what to do while we’re both half-naked in public.
“We should probably go say hi to the others,” I offer after a while of just enjoying having her close. Her knee brushes mine under the water, sending little waves against my stomach.
“Sure. We can’t let them catch even a hint. They’ll start planning our wedding.” She leans closer and whispers. “You’d make such a cute blushing bride, though.”
Willow takes advantage of the effect her words have on me to pounce and dunk me underwater, keeping my head below the surface for a few seconds. I, for my part, take advantage of it to rub against her.
She lets me emerge and walks over to our friends with a cackle.
And now I can’t get out of the water. Thanks a lot.
===
Willow’s head pokes out from behind the door of a changing stall just as I pass.
“C’mere,” she whispers.
How did she know it was me? Maybe she’s been waiting, peeking out at every footstep she heard. Weirdo.
Obviously, I squeeze into the cramped stall with her and drop my bag on the plank that is pretending to be a bench. Honestly, I’m getting pretty fond of her kind of weird.
Willow’s wrapped in a towel, and to my disappointment, her bikini straps are still visible on her shoulders.
Under the harsh changing-room light, her skin looks a little pink from the sun. She’s still catching her breath from all the splashing around that earned our group a few annoyed looks.
Not the Willow I built up in my head all week long. She’s damp and messy and smells like sweat and chlorine.
I catch myself smiling at just how real she feels. Willow raises her eyebrows at my mushy display, then points her chin behind me.
“Lock the door and turn around.”
Nodding, I obey without needing to stop and think. But when I try to look over my shoulder to ask a question, she smacks the back of my head.
“Don’t peek,” she orders softly.
The towel brushes against me as she drops it, letting it pool on the floor. That’s not very sanitary. The sound of a clasp being undone pulls me right out of my hygienic preoccupations.
“Do you want me to undress too?” I ask.
Her wet strands slosh against my back. Is she bending over to take off her bottoms?
My question earns me my second smack of the evening. Which is quickly forgiven when I feel her get up and lean into me. Two very hard nipples poke me below my shoulder blades.
“I’ve missed you this week,” she whispers into my ear. The firm softness of her breasts is overwhelming as she presses into me.
“Me too,” I squeak.
Strong arms circle my chest. And she lovingly bites into the skin between my neck and shoulders. I squirm; it’s definitely leaving a mark. She apologizes with a wet kiss right on it.
Her hands slide down my stomach until she can hook her thumbs into the waistband of my trunks. The wet fabric clings as she goes down, forcing her to bend around me as she drags it to my knees.
It’d be so easy just to risk a glance. But I know better.
Willow has no such concerns about looking or touching. She closes one hand around my balls and gives them a light tug. Then she flicks the tip of my cock with her finger. The sudden sting makes me jolt.
“I bet this little guy didn’t miss me too much.” She trails her fingertips lightly along my length. “I hope he enjoyed his last week of freedom. Did you fuck any hot girl this week?”
She can’t see me roll my eyes, but she still chuckles at my reaction.
“I guess the more appropriate question would be: did any lucky guy fuck my boy this week?”
I sigh, leaning into her touch.
“Not funny.”
She licks my ear.
“I’m serious. As long as you’re still on PrEP and take precautions, I don’t care who you fuck. But I do want to hear all about it.”
I feel another pinching sensation in my heart this time. Would it kill her to pretend to be a little jealous?
After a few seconds of silence, she sighs.
“I ruined the mood, didn’t I?” she says, morphing her groping into a proper hug. “I told you what I think about sex. I don’t expect you to be a monk just because we’re dating. That’s my gimmick. Well, most of you, anyway. Little Leo is definitely getting caged.”
“I’m not fucking anyone else,” I insist. “We are dating.”
The notion still makes me a little giddy. I can’t contain a smile, and feel hers against my neck too.
“You’re not fucking me, that’s for sure.” She tries to play it off but doesn’t really succeed. I wish I understood her hangups better. So does she, I suppose.
“Don’t pout,” she says against my skin, slipping a finger between my ass cheeks. “Did you remember to pack an overnight bag for the weekend?”
I nod.
“Good, let’s get back to my place then. I’ve got an ass to claim.”
===
Willow pulls us into her driveway.
Her house feels huge in the windshield. Not necessarily looming-huge; I’ve just been waiting all week long to get back here. But it’s also a little scary in the right way. I think.
“Ready?”
Willow’s soft word pulls me out of my overthinking even before her gentle nudge registers.
“Sure, let’s go.”
I’m out of the car so fast I nearly trip over the big cardboard package sitting on her porch.
“What’s that?” I ask, rubbing my throbbing knee.
“Oh, I totally forgot this got delivered,” she says, the duffle bag from her work trip slung over her shoulder. “Help me get it inside.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
We manage to get it past her front door; it’s not that heavy.
Her only answer is to clear her throat and point at the console table. I hurry to strip down and fold my clothes in the little cubby she cleared for me last weekend.
Willow smiles, barely concealing her possessive gaze.
“I don’t think I’m ever getting tired of having you naked in here,” she says. “Don’t you love our rules too?”
“I do,” I chuckle, mind blanking in pleasure.
“Perfect.” She steps up to peck my cheek. “I’m going to settle down, get things ready. You get this,” she points at the box, ” up into my bedroom and assembled. If you can’t, you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”
The cardboard rubs against my bare skin as I climb the stairs. It’s a weird sensation. Well, not as weird as the feeling of my erection poking into the bottom of the box.
A massive bed dominates willow’s bedroom. A king-size, has to be. The mattress is a good three feet off the floor. I don’t find the four posts with D-rings I expected. The pastel bedding and warm-colored walls match the vibe of the dungeon in the basement, but everywhere I look, all I find is vanilla.
It’s obviously as neat as the rest of her house. Even after almost a week away, the room still smells fresh, with something sugary coming from the candles on her dresser. There’s a picture of her sister and her kids on the bedside table. One of our group, too.
I lean closer. I’m front and center; it’s from a few years ago, when my hair reached my shoulders.
Kinda sweet, actually. Do I even have a picture of her? I resist the urge to pick up her e-reader.
I tear into the packaging to reveal… a folding camping bed. Still, if this thing is supposed to be my bed, maybe I should take her up on the floor option. The carpet looks way more inviting.
Assembly is pretty straightforward. There’s something deeply stupid about standing naked in Willow’s bedroom, half-hard, putting together my own tiny bed while hers towers behind me.
Once the frame is open, I notice the folded linens and little pillow Willow left on the dresser. They fit perfectly and smell like her fabric softener. “Totally forgot” my ass. She has to have planned this.
When I’m done, I push the cot along the foot of her bed. The contrast makes it look even smaller. It barely stretches across the width of the king-size mattress.
What I didn’t account for is the mountain of cardboard, plastic, and packing paper now covering half her floor.
I put my clothes back on to take the first load out to the trash.
“What are you doing?” Willow asks, poking her head around the kitchen doorframe when I walk past to pick up the next one.
“Getting rid of the packaging.”
“Duh. I’m asking why you think you get to wear clothes in here?”
“I… It’d be a hassle to strip every time just for the ten seconds it takes to get to your bedroom. I think I have to go to the trash two or three more times.”
Willow doesn’t even consider my argument.
“You can go out naked if you’re too lazy to get dressed. I’m sure my neighbors would love that. But you don’t wear clothes in my house.”
She disappears back into the kitchen before I can answer. Grumbling, I strip back down.
“I’ll be in the playroom when you’re done.”
===
“Knock knock,” I call from the top of the basement stairs.
It feels dumb waiting up here, but I need to ration my courage tonight.
“Come on down!” Willow’s tone is downright cheerful.
The fuzzy carpet that covers the steps pulls me in.
I spent the whole week thinking back to our evening in the playroom, and it still seems surreal. The colors, the deliberate wooden furniture, the collection of kinky toys, and of course, the giant St. Andrew’s Cross.
Except this time it’s Willow herself that crowns the tableau.
She’s rummaging through a chest I didn’t get to see last time. A tight shiny black leotard hugs her curves. Its long sleeves are the only modest thing about it. Her legs are all fishnets.
As I approach, she spins around on her bare feet. Black lipstick frames a proud little smirk. The leotard has a zipper over the crotch.
“Took you long enough,” she says, reaching for my hands.
I let her take them, and she guides me toward the cozy corner and its thick, fuzzy rug.
“Get down.”
Still holding her hands, I lower myself onto my back. The warmth against my bare skin immediately sends a happy shiver through me.
“Feels nice, huh?” she asks, grinning down at me. “I turned the heated floor up on the drive home. I’ve got an app on my phone.”
I have to chuckle. Willow nerding out about her dungeon is just too cute.
“Still up to get your ass fucked tonight?”
“You’re such a romantic,” I sigh.
She slaps my thigh.
“Shut it. Knees up.”
I obey, drawing them toward my chest. I have to look away from her eyes as her hands land on my exposed ass.
“Comfy?”
“Could be worse.”
“Really?” She grasps my hard cock, lewdly jutting between my spread thighs. “This little guy looks pretty comfy.”
Willow pumps once, twice, then leans over me without letting go. Her free hand braces beside my head. Her hair falls over my face, and I find myself smiling as her lips claim mine.
Her tongue slips into my mouth. I meet her eagerly, and she rewards me with a few more slow strokes.
“I’m going to make you squeal, baby,” she whispers against my ear when she pulls back.
I know better than to wrap my arms around her. Even with the way her waist looks in the leotard, I manage to stay still under her.
Then she straightens and steps away.
“Don’t move.”
I hear her messing with the chest. But the hot floor feels too good under me, so I don’t bother looking up. I can just lie there with my asshole hanging out; I’m that accommodating.
When she comes back, she’s got a black satin pouch in her hands. It clinks when she sets it down next to me, before sitting cross-legged by my ass.
“Oh right,” I mutter as she lays out the cage on the carpet.
There are a few rings of different diameters. And a few, well, cages of different lengths, made of welded metal bars, painted black.
“It can’t all be about what you want, puppy.” She runs her hands over my cheeks, pushing my backside higher off the floor. “I’ve been dying to lock you up for so long. Didn’t think I’d ever actually get the chance.”
“I like to play hard to get.”
“Speaking of.” She taps my erection, making it wobble. “Can you get rid of that or do you need help?”
“I’d love some help.” I try my best not to sound too eager.
“Sure thing.”
Her hand crashing down hard on my balls couldn’t be further from what I expected. The mean twist she gives them is even worse. I twitch, but she keeps me pressed to the ground.
“What the fuck?” I feel tears in my eyes.
This time it’s my face she slaps.
“Mind your tone.” Another squeeze of her fist. “See.” She points at my softening cock, sadly flopping over my pubic bone. She spits in her palm, rubs it into my deflated length. “That I can work with.”
“You could have warned me.”
“Help is help. Besides, you have your safeword.”
Willow looks at me expectantly. I nod. She pats my cheek, then grabs the narrowest ring.
“Let’s try this one first. The secret is to go as tight as possible; it’s way more comfortable in the long run. Prevents chafing.”
It looks ridiculously small, but she threads one ball through, then the other. She spits directly on my cock this time to make it easier to go through. I still wince when my sensitive skin gets pinched.
“Don’t be a baby. There you go. Fits perfectly.”
“Isn’t it going to stop the blood or something?”
“Nah.” Willow kisses my foot, still awkwardly held above my chest. “It shouldn’t hurt. If it does, you tell me, okay?”
I nod.
Her hand hovers over the cages before landing on the biggest one.
“Last guy I locked up wore this one.”
Last guy? What guy? Her fist on my cock feels too good to risk asking that right now.
“I hope you cleaned it up.”
She flicks my balls.
“And I hope you measure up.”
I’m concerned about where this is going. My cock doesn’t share my reservations; it’s trying to throb again. Willow catches it and gives the head a sharp pinch until the thought goes away.
She sets the tube next to my cock, lifting me between two fingers to line them beside each other. Intellectual honesty forces me to admit that I don’t quite measure up.
Willow grins.
“Nope. Way too big. You’d slip right out of this.”
With an exaggerated huff, she switches to the smallest one.
“What do you think?”
It can’t be more than an inch long.
“Oh come on.”
“You’re right. We’ll work up to that.”
Finally, she picks the medium one, like some goth Goldilocks. Or is my cock Goldilocks? Or the little bear? This is all so complicated.
I watch her push my length, still glistening with her spit, into the cage. The coldness of the metal bars can’t keep me from growing hard, what with all the rubbing. But it only helps to push my head against the rounded tip.
Willow has to push the cage into line with the ring, then quickly slide the little cylinder lock at the base. It clicks as she turns the key.
“There you go,” she purrs, running a fingertip over my slit, pressing between the bars at the tip. “All safe and snug.”
The constricting sensation makes me feel like I should be getting harder, all the while giving me no room to grow at all—a strange, exciting feedback loop. I can’t resist reaching for it, but Willow swats my hand away.
“Get up. Take a few steps.”
Tearing my eyes away from my locked cock, I take her hand and let her pull me up.
The weight of the metal makes the cage hang lower than my junk usually would. My balls almost end up between my thighs. Hope I won’t get a rug burn down there.
“How does it feel?” Willow asks, eyes glued on me.
“Weird.”
“Good weird?”
“Definitely.”
“Good.” She grins and pulls me to her.
I should be getting used to her kissing me without warning by now. Still feels pretty awesome.
“Do you mind if I take a few pics?”
I scratch my head.
“Just for me,” Willow adds, almost blushing. “They go straight into my private folder. You look amazing.”
Well, now I’m the one blushing.
“Sure, I guess.”
She smacks her lips on my cheek, then bolts to grab her phone. But she also brings back the thin collar from last weekend.
“Do you mind turning around?”
I chuckle, happy to let her wrap the thin black leather around my neck. It warms my heart when she slides two fingers under it to make sure it’s not too tight. So she does care, after all.
“Remember, it’s a simple play collar. Doesn’t mean anything. Just want you to look as whorish as you can.”
“Fuck off,” I laugh. “Wait, there are different types of collars?”
“Oh, you sweet subby summer child.” She kisses the spot between my hair and the collar. “Now turn around and pose for me.”
This might actually be the most humiliating thing she’s had me do so far. Worse than drinking my own cum out of a mug. Worse than begging her to let me fuck her palm. I have to smile at her phone’s camera, naked, with my caged, swollen cock out.
“I was thinking earlier that I don’t have any pictures of you,” I say out loud, running out of patience as she has me move around the room for the third time: better lighting and such.
“We can take some cute coupley ones later when you’re not too busy exposing yourself. And you’re allowed to jerk off to my Insta in your free time.”
“How do you think I survived this entire week?”
Willow lowers the phone and looks at me like I just confessed to eating boogers.
“Yuck. I’m for sure keeping you caged now.”
She’s definitely disgusted by me, because the next thing she does is grab my collar and pull me down onto my knees, right against her leg. She presses my head to her thigh; the fishnets feel funny on my cheek.
“You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” Willow sighs, letting me pepper her hip with light kisses.
“What’s the zipper for?” I ask, not daring to touch it, but unable to take my eyes from where it disappears between her legs.
“Not my choice. Came with the leotard. When you shop around for kinky clothes, you have to make do with… the quirks.”
“I imagine it kinda sends the wrong message when you’re at those Eyes Wide Shut parties.”
Willow’s face remains fully serious.
“Meh.” She brushes my hair. Getting back in her good graces is so easy. “People at the local dungeon are pretty respectful. Some male doms get annoying if you look too girly or slutty. Entitled pricks.”
“Local dungeon?”
“Yeah. Can’t wait to take you there. But that’s for later.” She gives me another stroke. “Let me get my strap.”
Right. That’s why we’re here after all.
Going through another one of her seemingly endless kinky storage compartments, she produces a bundle of black webbing, metallic buckles, and plastic rings. It looks like the kind of stuff you’d take to a climbing gym.
Willow tosses it to me, then stands in front of me, feet firmly planted. She’s got a decent-sized pink dildo in her hands. This one would get some weird looks on a slab wall.
“Alright. Get to work, slut.”
I turn the thing around in my hands, trying to untangle the straps until I figure out what hole goes where.
“First one,” she says, lifting her foot, bringing it in front of my face. “Kiss.”
I press my lips to her sole. It’s warm from the heated tiles. She doesn’t hesitate to step into the strap when I hold it open for her.
We repeat the same routine for the second foot, then I get to slide the strap-on up her legs. Uh, she shaved them. I pull on the webbing to tighten the harness, making sure its rubber ring is placed where a cock would normally be.
“Looks good to me.” I look up and reach for the dildo.
She tuts.
“You don’t touch my cock unless I tell you to. Hands behind your back.”
I obey, and feel myself tighten inside the cage. It’s not exactly painful, and at least I’m spared from waving my hard-on at her feet as she bullies me. My dignity is definitely saved.
Willow works the dildo’s suction cup through the rubber ring. A second later, the pink silicone juts out right above my face. I’ve been there before with a real cock, and several different men.
Except it’s Willow’s full body towering over me, Willow’s soft face looking down at me behind the thick cock. The hunger comes from Willow’s brown eyes. I shiver, thinking of what they can see in mine.
She maneuvers her hips until the dildo comes to rest across my face. It smells clean and feels cold compared to the real thing. I wish her hands were on me.
“Feels pretty big, huh? You sure you can take it?”
I snort; she watches too much porn. Or not enough in that particular case.
“Uhm.” I clear my throat. “Sure, a few years back it would’ve looked scary. But as long as you use enough lube, I’m good for it.”
She cackles; I blush- the usual drill.
“God, that’s so hot,” she decides. “Do you have plugs and stuff?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Buzzkill.”
Willow grabs a fistful of my hair and the base of her cock. She rubs the tip on my lips.
“Open up.”
It slides over my tongue, pushing further without giving me much time to react. She bottoms out. If the dildo had fake balls, they’d be on my chin. My nose presses against the vinyl of her leotard; I can feel the heat of her skin beneath the thin fabric.
She keeps me there for a while, but the second I gag, she pulls back.
“Fuck.”
That’s from her; I’m too busy coughing.
“Keep your hands back,” she warns me when I try to wipe my mouth. “I want you messy.”
She starts fucking my face again. One hand, gripping my hair, keeps my head tilted back while the other braces against my shoulder for balance. She only brings the cock out to slap my face with it.
I can’t take my eyes off hers, even as tears cloud my vision. She feels like a whole new person, not my plain friend. Her lips tighten; there’s a mean streak in her gaze as she focuses on getting another wet, embarrassing noise from my throat.
This Willow is so beautiful.
“You’re smiling?” she asks a few moments after pulling out of my mouth.
“You’re pretty,” I blurt out, voice hoarse.
She glowers down at me. Did I mess up?
“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes, but I see the slight blush under the sheen. “Up, up.”
Short-lived pain lances through my knees as I get up. She slaps my ass, herding me toward the St. Andrew’s cross. The LEDs along its length emit a dim purple glow.
“Face my cross,” she barks.
My chest touches the smooth wood as she pulls my right arm up. She closes the fluffy pink cuff around my wrist, then does the same with the other. This time she tightens the straps much shorter. There’s no slack left at all.
Her touch leaves for an instant before she starts fiddling with my ankles. Soon, they’re tied to opposite ends of a heavy metal bar and pushed apart. Two shorter bars connect it to the base of the cross, holding my feet back and making me bend.
“Spreader bar,” Willow says. She sounds like she’s calmed down, almost purring in my ear now. She grabs both my cheeks. “Makes your ass look all round and yummy.”
Willow’s cage hangs low between my thighs, even as my cock tries its best to lift it.
Something whistles through the air and strikes me across the ass. When the shock and the yelp pass, I’m left with a slight burn.
“Color?” Willow asks coldly behind me.
“Green.”
She whips me again, right below the first mark. I pull hard on the bindings at my wrists, stomach tensing to keep me in position.
“What is it?” I ask, legs a little shaky.
“A riding crop. I’m being pretty gentle, though.”
“Right, gentle.”
“Listen, backtalk is cute when you’re a puppy on the floor.” She pauses long enough to strike me again. “But unless you need to use your colors, shut up.”
She runs a hand over my neck, into my hair, twirling it around her finger. The back of my head tingles, even as another hit lands.
“I can feel your busy brain shutting off. That’s how I want you down here. Less of an overthinker and more of a body. I’m going to go harder now.”
She keeps to her word. The next impact almost makes me lose my footing.
“All you have to do is stay up and feel the pain. That’s all I want from you.”
I do my best to obey.
“I’m not doing this because you’ve been bad. You’re so good. My good boy.”
The magic words. I moan even as she lashes me again.
“I’m hurting you because I want to. And because your ass marks so prettily.”
That strike has to have broken my skin. No, Willow wouldn’t do that. Let’s not think; let her do her thing. She’s clearly enjoying herself.
“There. That’s enough. I just want to have something nice to look at when I fuck you.”
She feathers the crop’s flap over my side and brings it to my face.
“How do you feel?”
“Good.”
“Thank the crop, then.”
I press my lips to the flimsy leather end and mumble the closest thing to a thank you into it.
The crop is discarded, and a kiss lands right below my jaw. Another down my neck, then along my spine, over the small of my back.
Her warm breath reaches between my bruised cheeks. My heartbeat picks up in anticipation, but there’s no way this is what is happening. Yet she spreads my ass further apart with her hands, and her lips close over my asshole. Her tongue laps at me, a little shy at first. Has she ever done this before?
Anyway, I sure am glad I cleaned up after work. Willow gets more adventurous, but not for much longer.
“Well, that’s enough of that.”
There’s the familiar click of a plastic bottle opening, followed by the sound of water. I smile, picturing her rubbing lube onto the fake cock. A slippery finger worms its way inside me.
“Damn. I thought it’d be a little more involved.” She pushes another finger in. “Like I’ve done buttplay before, but you just open up.”
That’s just great. The vinyl-clad freak telling me I’m a slut, just what I needed.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” she says, apparently able to pick up on my shame all the way down there. She kisses my left cheek. “It’s hot, I’m not judging.”
She grabs my hips and pulls herself into position with a grunt. One hand wraps around my neck. I finally feel the tip of her strap-on lined up against me. I arch my back to help her out.
“Fuck, it’s actually going in,” she marvels.
Willow takes her time. I suck in a breath at the familiar stretch when the head pushes past my ring. The little moan I let out is only half for her benefit.
I feel the heft of the cage swaying under me as she eases herself deeper. The penetration makes my cock less eager to push against the bars, but I know it’ll come back, like it always does.
“Is it okay?” she asks when her stomach comes to rest against my back.
I wish she were naked again, like in the changing room. The weight of her breasts on my skin is nice, but I want her hard nipples against my back instead of vinyl.
“Yeah. I told you, it’s not that big.”
“Oh, my God!” She sounds delighted and bites my earlobe. “You’re such a whore.”
She gives a few careful thrusts, picking up the pace.
“My whore.”
Her thighs bumping into my ass produce some weak flesh-on-flesh sound.
“I’m not made of glass,” I mutter, knowing I’m pushing it.
Still, she takes the bait and goes a little harder.
“Oh yeah? Maybe I should ask your buddies from the apps to show me.” Her voice is right in my ear. “I’d love to see you on a real cock.”
Her chest molds itself against me, arms clamped around my torso. She leans almost all her weight on me with only her hips moving to pump into me.
“We could make it a whole thing. Invite our friends. How do you think they’d react to sweet innocent Leo taking some massive tool?”
Willow grunts into my neck. I let her ramble. The stimulation is nice, and she smells great, but she’s clearly getting more out of this fantasy than I am.
“Or your mom. Good Catholic Leo getting his back blown out. What would she say?”
She squeezes me tighter.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m your mommy now anyways. I own you.”
Her lips barely leave my skin anymore.
“They can all think whatever they want. I own you, and I want you slutty! My slutty good boy!”
Willow straightens against me. She doesn’t exactly go limp, but the thrusting stops. Her damp forehead settles against the back of my neck. Her grasp slowly turns into a hug as she catches her breath.
For a little while we just stay still like that. I barely feel the dildo lodged inside me, the crop marks across my ass, or the strain of the restraints on my shoulders.
“Well, that was definitely something,” she finally says, trying to sound way too casual for someone who just rattled off some incoherent, horny promises.
“Did you cum?” I ask, trying to look at her over my shoulder.
“I wish,” she snorts. “You?”
“Huh.” I look down. “I’m not sure. There’s a mess on the floor, but it could just be lube.”
“Wait a sec,” she grunts, pulling out of me with a loud squelch.
My eyes close at the sudden emptiness. I know I’ll still feel it for a few hours, a strange afterglow almost as good as getting fucked in the first place. When I open them again, Willow’s on all fours between my legs.
I watch her poke a finger into the suspicious little puddle, then touch it to her tongue.
“Definitely cum,” she concludes, then looks up at me. “You didn’t feel an orgasm?”
“No. Not that I expected to.”
Her eyebrows perk up.
“Wait, you bottom for all these guys but you don’t cum from it?”
I need to shut down whatever pervy image she’s already conjuring in her head.
“I wouldn’t cum just from a cock in my ass, no. I’d need some more stimulation. Like a vibrator. Or access to my cock, dumbass.”
“Oh right.” She chuckles and taps her nails against one of the cage’s bars. “Still, I know some guys can train themselves to cum from prostate play. That could be a nice project for us.”
She’s too cute. I don’t know which version I prefer. The stinky tomboy friend, the mean domme, or the cum gremlin.
“Sure.”
“Good.” She places both hands on my thighs and holds my gaze, sounding a lot more serious. “I’m going to go change into something more human real quick, then I’ll untie you. You’re holding up really well right now, but I think the second you’re off the cross you’re going to crash hard.”
The tone makes me more anxious than anything. It is somewhat offset by her sitting half-naked in a puddle of my own cum, an earnest look on her face.
“Dunno. I feel pretty good right now.”
She gives me a last apologetic glance as she wriggles out from under me.
“You took everything so well. I’m so proud. But trust me, I know how this works. I’ll be gone for like thirty seconds, then I’ll take you upstairs. If I timed things right, pizza should get here in a few minutes.”
===
Willow was absolutely right about the comedown.
But being a shivery mess is not so bad when you get to cuddle with your sexy friend on her plush couch. With pizza, blankets, and The Office.
Six episodes in, she decides we’re turning in for the night.
Her master bathroom has a big double sink. We’re exchanging dumb little glances through the mirror as we brush our teeth. When I don’t pay attention, the cage clinks against the counter.
“Off to bed, then,” she declares after spitting.
She leads me to the bedroom and points at the cot I assembled just a few hours ago, lined up along the foot of her bed.
“I was really hoping you’d mess up and I’d get an excuse to have you sleep on the floor. Oh well. Lie down on top of the covers, please.”
Even though I am short, I barely fit. Her bed looks even more comically large from down here.
“Lucky me.”
“Oh, poor Leo,” Willow says sarcastically. “With his own snug bed. Look what else I bought for you.”
She holds out a collection of straps. Have I not been restrained enough for one weekend?
“They’re skin-safe, padded, and I’ll leave plenty of slack so you can sleep in them. If it starts feeling bad, I’m right here; you just tell me right away.”
She starts feeding the straps underneath the cot and fastening them over me. Two cross my legs. One goes over my waist, trapping my left wrist beneath it, and another crosses my chest just below the shoulders.
This leaves only my right arm free with the rest of me loosely immobilized.
“Now, your big reward for being so brave tonight.”
She takes the key out from her shorts pocket. With a click, she undoes the lock, then pulls the cage away. The ring stays around my cock and balls, though.
“You get to jerk off!” she announces like I’ve won the lottery. “What do you say?”
That explains the free arm at least.
“Thank you, Willow.”
“You’re very welcome.”
She walks out of my field of vision. I hear clothes rustling over skin, then her bed creaks as she climbs in.
When she reappears at the edge of the mattress, she’s naked. She slings her legs over the edge, one foot on my chest, the other on my thigh. Her breasts look fantastic standing so high above me.
Willow shoots me a surprised glance.
“You’re not jerking off yet?” She waves the e-reader in her hand. “I’m reading one chapter. After that it’s back in the cage and lights out. Orgasm or not.”
I don’t know if it’s the ring, the pressure, or the naked girl, but I get hard in record time. I frantically tug on my cock, filling the room with wet noises.
“You’re not going to ask me what I’m reading?” she asks after a few instants, not looking away from the e-reader.
“What are you reading?”
“Why, what an engaged boyfriend you are. It’s called Penric and Desdemona. It’s about a submissive twink and his dominant female demon friend.”
Desperate as I am to cum, I can’t help getting distracted.
“Is it really?”
This time she does make eye contact.
“I’m simplifying. You should hurry, though; I only have three pages left.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I call on every reflex I developed jerking off as fast as possible in the shower back in college. Willow’s leg blocks my view of my twitching cock when I finally pop.
With a sigh, she rubs her foot over my chest, wiping off the cum that landed on her.
Willow slinks down and, without letting me clean up, locks the cage right back up.
“I can leave your arm free in case you need to untie yourself during the night,” she offers. “But if you feel like it, I can tie it up too. Not enough to actually restrain you, but it’ll feel just like it.”
I’m really sleepy at this point.
“Sure.”
I let her fuss over the straps one more time. It does feel pretty comfy, swaddled at the foot of her bed like that, especially when she pulls a blanket over me and carefully tucks it around tied-up little old me.
In her dungeon, every toy has its place. Maybe this is mine, up here, at her feet.
“Goodnight.” She leans over. Her hair brushes my nose as she kisses me. I’m pretty sure I’m asleep before she’s even back on her bed.
===
I’ve been awake for a while by the time I hear her moving around. The slight burning sensation at the back of my sac made it clear. It’s not bad enough to wake her up, though.
Even in the dim bedroom, I can discern her face peeking over the edge of her tall mattress.
“Leo,” Willow whispers. “You’re up?”
“Yes.”
“Morning.” She lets out the biggest yawn. “Restraints feel okay?”
“Yup. Kinda really like the sensation actually.”
“I thought you would. The cage is burning a little, right? The back of the ring?” she ventures.
I stare at her for a few seconds.
“How do you know?”
“It’s normal. I’ll check it out and rub some lotion on it before breakfast. You just need to get used to being locked, and it should go away on its own.”
“Great.” I’m not a morning person to begin with. This is making me feel downright grumpy.
“I was thinking,” she says, cool as ever. “Would you be okay with having a vanilla day? Do regular coupley stuff. You could wear clothes.”
Maybe take the cage off?
“There’s a temporary exhibition at the museum,” I offer.
“It’s a date then.”
I can barely see her smile, but I can definitely feel my own dumb grin.
“Oh, and Leo? The cage stays on. Obviously.”
Obviously.
The End.
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