There is something intoxicating about giving dumb pets ruined orgasms. I loves the way those doe eyes fixate on me, glassy and desperate, as they cling to my strap the way they gag and choke, their body language betraying every ounce of their helplessness.
I watch as your legs begin to tremble, twitching involuntarily as you edge yourself against the edge of my heel, teetering on the precipice of a release that i refuses to let you claim.
"You like it, don't you?" The question isn't really a question; I know the answer. You act like a perfect little mutt, kneeling at my feet and obeying every whispered command. You hang on my every word, hips beginning to hump in a desperate, rhythmic plea. Cheeks flushed a deep crimson, your breath coming in ragged, needy pants as you near your peak so easily, just as it is every time.
You try to beg for more—anything—for the release you so badly crave but your voice remains muffled, trapped behind the cock that fills your mouth. I simply run my fingers through your hair, humming lowly. "Have you been good for me?" I murmur, though you know you don't get to answer; I haven't allowed you that luxury.
Just as you reach the breaking point, the moment where your body arches and your legs twitch close, i shoves it deeper. I drive deeper into your throat, taking away my heel and letting you spill onto the floor, cutting off the pleasure before it can fully bloom. Your eyes prick with tears, your body convulsing in frustration as you try to nod in agreement. You nod because you know beneath all of your emotion, your place is whatever I make it so. You crave it all. Saliva trails down your chin while your movements grow more desperate, more selfish, clawing for a pleasure that remains tantalizingly out of reach. That only I can provide.
"Shh... my sweet darling," I whispers against your skin, savoring the way you unravel. "You'll take everything I give you."
We still have the rest of the day, after all.