Page 89 of Corruption
“That’s because you don’t have a cock!” I growled at her. She then moved down my body, straddling me with her back to me. The panties she wore were barely more than a string, leaving her ass cheeks tantalizingly exposed. My eyes remained fixated on her round globes, my attention more on them than the torment she had in store for me. I felt her fingers glide over my cock, and then something tightened around it.
“Did you just collar my cock?” I groaned.
She nodded, and I felt her start to stroke me.
“Oh, shit,” I sighed, pleasure coursing through me as my eyes remained fixed on her ass, craving it. I yearned for her to ride me while I was still bound. Why was she doing this to me? I shouldn’t want this, but my hips jerked forward, pressing against her hand, silently urging her to continue to stroke me while I felt the slight pressure of the collar around my cock. “Alison…”
“Mistress,” she corrected before she ceased stroking me, just as the orgasm was about to arrive.
“Fuck!” I groaned, and Alison slid off me, moving away and then walking back to the closet. I was well aware that she intentionally left the items she intended to use on me inside the closet so that I’d have to wait. However, as she walked away, I began to pull on the restraints, hearing the wood give way slightly. The bed was old, after all, so maybe I could break it. I kept tugging and pushing, my arms trembling from the effort. But just as I was making progress, Alison returned, almost skipping, and she held up the knife I had used on her. “Oh, you bitch.”
She laughed, then placed the blade’s tip against my knee and ran it upward, past my cock. I kept a close watch on it, ensuring it didn’t actually cut my cock off. She continued to slide it upward, tracing a path along my stomach, and while my words may have conveyed my anger, I couldn’t deny that I loved the thrill of having that blade glide over my stomach and chest. It sent my adrenaline pumping, and I watched as Alison stopped right where her initial “A” was.
“You know ‘A’ could stand for anything,” she observed.
“Yes, what about it?” I replied.
“I think people should really know who owns you, don’t you?”
“You really want to go there? You really want to carve your last initial into me?” I questioned.
“Why not?”
“I think we both know there’s truly no point of return then. Once I get free, you won’t just be in deep trouble. You’re going to beg and cry for days for me to stop, and even then, I won’t.”
“Well, you draw inspiration from me, so I think I can handle it,” she replied confidently.
“Oh, look who’s grown brave,” I retorted. “Or maybe this isn’t the first time you’ve done this?”
“Cut you?”
“Tied up a man,” I snapped. “I’m sure your college days were filled with things you can barely even remember.”
Alison froze for a moment, then lifted the knife before removing the mask. “You keep doing it.”
“What?” I asked.
“Implying I had some wild college life where I did nothing but fool around and have sex with teachers! Didn’t we clarify that I didn’t sleep with teachers?”
“We did, but what about the rest?” I retorted. Alison shook her head, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t exactly wait for marriage.”
“Funny coming from someone who didn’t wait either,” she retorted. “But I didn’t achieve the success I have today by wasting my college years on drinking and hooking up. I can count my partners on one hand.”
“No.”
“Yes! And for someone who’s stalked me, I’m surprised you didn’t realize, or maybe you just didn’t want to know,” she countered. Then she tossed the mask onto the bed before raising her hand, displaying five fingers. “First boyfriend. A one-night stand during my freshman year. A situationship. An almost relationship that would have happened if he hadn’t had to move. And then my husband.”
She pointed to each finger, enumerating every partner, and I stared at her in shock. I hadn’t delved into her sexual history because I thought I already knew Alison, but now she claimed something different, and my mind struggled to grasp the truth. So I simply continued to gaze at her.
“I bet you’ve had many more, you hypocrite,” she snapped before straddling me again, a challenging glint in her eyes. I realized what she wanted from me.
“My turn?”
“Your turn,” she replied with a slight smile, then placed the knife next to the ‘A’, preparing to carve.
“Double yours and then add two,” I responded.
Alison contemplated it for a moment, taking a few seconds to calculate the number, but then she withdrew, looking surprised.
