A kinky short story by [Hardee Har har
"Treat me like a doll"
His hands are callused. Even his finger tips. I'd asked him once before how that had happened, but he'd just smiled. “Guitar and hard living,” he'd said, as though the two were inseparable. In the early days for us, they usually weren't. We'd drink, he'd tell a joke. We'd melt into each other by the fire. Then he'd play.
But that was well over a year ago. His fingers no longer plucked, though they did play.
The metal table makes my skin break into goosebumps. I keep my back arched, but every other moment it kisses the metal. Then I shiver again, and Sir just smiles. Even with his back turned, eyes glancing over a rack of toys, I know. He stops near the end of the rack, and reaches. I close my eyes and inhale deep as my breasts meet my chin.
By the sound alone, I know which toy it is. A loud, steady whirring which could only mean the Hitachi. I hear Sir's boots turn on their heels as my cunt grows warm with anticipation.
He doesn't say a word as he brings the toy between my thighs. The soft heads throbs against my clit, and I gasp. My eyes jerk open as I quiver and shake, my restraints tapping out a steady rhythm against the table. I try to meet Sir's eyes, but my eyes roll as I buck into the toy.
Yet still he smiles. The toy falls silent, pulled from me in an instant. My ass falls against the table as he bends forward. His hand meets my brow, and he pulls it back. He strokes my hair, and smiles.
“How's my sweet doll today? Feeling good?”
My tongue lolls in my mouth, words beyond it. The small of my back twitches, and Sir leans even closer. His lips meet my head as the Hitachi hums to life against my cunt. M spine spasms as he rises, watching the toy. Watching me.
“You're such a good girl,” he says as he cups his cock. He gives the growing tent a squeeze, eyes flicking between the Hitachi and my face. I bite my lip and try to contain the welling moan in my throat, but my mouth opens wide as I cry out. With a flick of his wrist the Hitachi hums louder still, my body convulsing beneath it's touch.
“That's it. Don't be afraid dear,” says Sir. “I just want to play. Let it all go,”
So I do. With a shudder and a grit of my jaw, my cunt floods the table. It coats it, spreading past the edges as it drips to the floor. Laughter fills the room as Sir throws back his head. I try to smile, eyes twitching as I look up at him. With a bulb behind his head, his feature's are bathed in a halo's light.
High cheeks. A scruff of a beard. Green eyes, edged with slight wrinkles. The grey at his temples makes him look handsome rather than aged. I'd joked with him before that he was “vintage”, but the truth was, he was beautiful.
He looked down at me, grin wide as he turned back to the toy rack. He laid the Hitachi down, and finger extended, glanced at it's peers. He dismissed them all with a wave, and put his hands at his belt buckle.
“What are you, dear?” he says. The belt comes loose, and he tosses it in a corner.
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