Female dominant, male submissive

“Are you muted?” she asked in barely more than a whisper, stepping into the office, placing her purse on the floor.

He raised a finger in the international signal for “one second” & clicked with his mouse. “Now I am,” he responded. “What’s up?”

“How long did you say this call was going to take?,” she asked, sitting down in a recliner across the room.

“Well, they scheduled two hours, but I’m hopeful it’ll be less,” he answered, adjusting the weight on his feet from his standing desk, adding “but last time, it was nearly three hours.”

“Who all is on this call?”

“This one? The whole damn company. A quarterly catch up on everything that everyone is doing — you know, all rah-rah go team stuff.”

“And you need to pay attention, don’t you?”

“Well, I need to be on the call, yeah – but we can chat for most of it. It’s just that there are a few things that, if people ask questions, I’m the only one who can really answer.”

“Interesting,” she responds, unbuttoning her jeans. “I am just gonna sit here,” she adds, pulling down her pants, “and make myself comfortable.”

And as the meeting’s introductions finalized, she pulled out a vibrator, placed her legs over each arm of the overstuffed chair, and started masturbating.

“Pay attention to your call!,” she said, breathlessly, working up her lust. “We don’t want you to get caught off guard.” And she fucked herself as he tried to position his laptop in just such a way that it could appear that he was following the call while, in reality, enjoy the site of watching his wife pleasure herself.

After an intense orgasm, she turned off the vibrator just as “John, where do we stand with the notifications?” came out over the computer speakers.

Without taking his eyes off his wife’s sex, he blurted out “coding is complete – but we are still beta testing,” as his wife stood and started walking to him.

She unbuttoned his jeans and started to unzip his fly as he re-muted himself.

“Pay attention – we don’t want you slipping up,” as his jeans fell down about his ankles. “I see my little show did it’s job,” she added, reaching her hand in the slit on the front of his boxers, tracing a finger along his erect member.

As she pushed his underwear down to match his pants about his ankles, he stated, to the call, “we appear to be on target. If there is risk, it’s ensuring that all users have security established.” She traced a single finger up the underside of his shaft and his eyes grew glassy.

“I’m muted again,” he said, and she started to massage the head of his cock.

He growled in appreciation.

“Did I hear that the big challenge all the cool kids are doing is managing to cum without getting caught during these videos?,” she asked.

He chuckled while trying to keep a straight face while she worked his phallus, “I’ve heard that a time or two, yeah,” he whispered out before closing his eyes and sighing in pleasure.

And with that, she stroked the shaft of his cock all of the way to his balls, grabbing his junk and slapping down on his erect shaft. He let out an “oof” and barely kept himself on his feet.

“I think we can do even better than something that sophomoric,” she said to him, slapping his cock again. “Any chance we’re going to have to speak any time soon?” she asked, pinching the head of his cock as hard as she could.

“No – this is a product demo,” he said, as someone droned, long-windedly, on the audio. “And it’s not my team — I might be done for the whole of the meeting.”

“Well, then, keep watching the screen – don’t let what I might be doing show to all of those coworkers of yours,” she instructed.

He gazed at the computer screen, trying his best to keep a straight face as she played with his cock as a cat might play with string. She batted it left & right, up & down.

“I do love how hard you get when I’m playing,” she noted, holding his shaft, hard, with one hand, and slapping it relentlessly with the other. “You want my mouth, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes please,” he whispered, looking straight at the screen.

And, with that invitation, she bit his right testicle. He squirmed and let out a shriek, but never brought his face away from the laptop screen.

A drop of pre-cum oozed from the tip of his cock. “Would you like some more?”

“I’d like whatever you’d like to do,” he responded. And with that, she left him standing alone as she worked back to her purse.

As the demo continued, she pulled out a clothespin from her bag, and attached it to his scrotum. The next few minutes, she “decorated” the loose skin of his ball sack as one might decorate a Christmas tree.

“Now this,” she said, stroking his cock once again, “is going to take a lot more precision.” And with that, she took little pinches of skin from the underside of his erect shaft with one hand before and attached a clothespin to the tiny bit of stretched flesh. From the base of his shaft to the tip, she managed six pins until she reached the head. And then, just for good measure, on the topside of his glans, two more.

“Oooooh, pretty,” she said, pushing his member to the left & right, giggling as he winced. “Still watching the screen, right? Do you have any idea what they’re talking about right now?”

“They just moved onto another product demo – but this guy doesn’t like to speak much,” he managed to whisper out, continuing to look at his screen, trying to keep his face from showing off his torment.

“I think that’s enough,” she said, running her fingertips along the topside, un-adorned side of his shaft. “Let’s take them off.”

And with that, she went back to her purse and pulled out a skein of her crocheting yarn. She threaded one end through a rectangular hole in the first of the clothespins she added. Then, she went from clothespin to clothespin, until all of them were tied together.

“Ummmm, this might hurt a bit,” she instructed before pulling from the first pin. He winced and cried out, but never looked away from the screen.

Slowly, she started to pull the line, forcing the clothespins off one-by-one. He writhed on his feet and started to bite his lower lip.

When it came to the pins about the shaft of his cock, she started pulling as quickly as she could, and he screamed out in agony, nearly falling.

“John, are you ok?” came the audio from the computer speakers as all but the pins about the top of his glans remained.

He immediately collected himself, clicked with his mouse, and staged “just a sneeze from out of nowhere” to the computer. His wife looked up at him from her perch, pointing to the remaining pins. “I think I have another one coming, now” he said, scrunching his nose before re-muting himself.

Yank followed by a fake sneeze.

Pause.

A long pause.

Yank.

And a huge sigh.

“I can’t believe you’re still this hard after all of that,” she said, starting to give him a hand job in earnest.

He started to moan in appreciation. “You really want to cum, don’t you?” she asked, as someone on the call announced “and now we’ll go around for the managers to call out the employees who have gone above and beyond lately.”

“I want to cum so very badly,” he responded, moving his hips in rhythm to her strokes.

“Well, not yet – you might be recognized!” she said, happily, breaking contact with his erection.

“Please, please, don’t stop.” he asked.

And she took his cock in her hands again – but for the next few minutes, as the call wrapped up, she squeezed his balls with one hand while tickling the underside of his cock, just beneath his head, with the other.

He had no idea if he was ever recognized for “going above and beyond” – but he was pretty certain nobody actively called on him before the call ended.

“Oh, is that the end of the call?” she asked, releasing her hold over him. “Shame we never got to your end. I guess, if we didn’t make the challenge, we should just call this quits?”

“No, please. Please, don’t stop touching me.”

“Would you like to cum?”

“Oh, yes,” he replied. “Please, I *NEED* to cum.”

“Well,” she said, grabbing the yarn and tying a knot about his scrotum. “Let’s see if we can take care of that bulge in the bedroom.” And, using the yarn as a leash, she lead her husband up the stairs.

“Lie down for me,” she said, pulling off her shirt. “I’ve wanted to fuck ALL DAY today,” she whispered in his ear as she place his cock into her vagina and lowered herself.

And three thrusts later, he was spewing into her.

“I said I wanted to fuck – I didn’t say I wanted . . . . whatever the fuck that was” she explained, climbing off him and turning around. “Clean up your mess,” and she straddled his head, placing her sex right over his mouth.

He started to lick and suck. She grabbed his cock as it started the trip back to flaccid – the overly sensitive cock.

He writhed and moaned with over-stimulation. She pressed her thighs against the sides of his head to keep his head *right there*.

“It was just a minute ago you were begging me not to stop touching you!” she explained, jerking off his cock as he writhed on the bed. “If you’re going to beg like that, I’ll give you precisely what you want!”

His body may have been protesting “too much”, but he never stopped caressing her clitoris with his tongue and lips. She came, again and again – each orgasm warranting a brief reprise to his over-stimulated sex. But once she was recovered, she’d go back to work – one hand around the base of his balls, the other stroking from tip to base.

He continued his oral work.

“There it is!” she said, as he ejaculated once again. And her hands broke contact with his cock.

He continued his oral work. She grabbed his phallus again & he shrieked in a combination of pain and overstimulation.

“Nah, I’m not THAT mean. But geez, that was fun,” she said, climbing off his face. “Let’s shower,” she said, wiping her jizz covered hand over his lips.