Only rarely did Mistress and I venture into the world as a normal, vanilla couple. We were much happier playing in our usual environment, where we could be as wild as we wanted without anyone else around. Her dominance, and my submission, were a release from the everyday. But tonight, Mistress had needed an escort for an inner city work function, and I had been commanded to attend.
Of course, it was an easy command to obey. The function was a black tie cocktail affair, and I was dressed nicely in a dinner suit, though I had a cockring securing Mistress’ cock, and a pair of her pretty panties on. Mistress looked stunning, in a short backless black dress, with stockings and wicked pointed high heels. She rarely wears stockings, but she knows I love them, so this was a real treat. Underneath, she was bare. No panties, and a freshly shaved pussy. I could tell that even she felt slightly uncomfortable without panties on, in a dress which came nowhere near her knees.
The function went beautifully, and we had a great time. Have you ever noticed, though, how workplace functions begin as classy, enjoyable affairs but then eventually turn into rather low drinking binges? This one would be no different, and we had decided to leave before the party turned. Thus it was that, after a couple of hours, Mistress decided it was time for us to leave. She beckoned for me to follow and I did, enjoying the swish of her skirt and the confident clacking of her shoes. She looked hot tonight, and she knew it.
We got into the lift and she turned to me, clearly expecting to be kissed. The function was on the 32nd floor, and was express from the 15th down … so there was time for a good long kiss and I of course was only too happy to oblige. My hands encircled her, our lips met, and my tongue slowly slid into her mouth when, somewhere between the 15th floor and ground, the lift came to a shuddering halt. I was lucky she didn’t bite my tongue off!
One thing was certain – we were stuck. There weren’t even doors during this express part of the shaft. Mistress pressed the “call” button and we heard the phone connect and ring. Mistress gave the lift number and told the woman the problem.
“Oh, no,” said the woman. “Not another one. Look, I’m really sorry but there seems to be some sort of widespread problem tonight. We think it might be a bug in the computer software which controls our lifts. Our technicians are working on it, but they can only work one lift at a time. You’re in the queue, but it’s likely to be at least an hour or so before we can get you moving again. I’ll call back and give you an update when they’re on their way if you like.”
Mistress, none too impressed, gave the woman her cellphone number and the call disconnected.
We looked at one another and laughed. The situation was ludicrous. Stuck in the lift … for an hour! Well, Mistress being Mistress, it didn’t take long for her to begin having naughty thoughts. She moved towards me again and allowed me to wrap my arms around her waist. I drew towards her, thinking to kiss her again, when she whispered to me, “You know, sub-toy, since we’re here for a while, we might as well make the best of it. I’ve always wanted to fuck in a lift.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Her next command, though, was familiar, even if the circumstances were anything but. “Strip.”
I must have looked as startled as I felt, but there was never really any doubt that I would obey. I loosened and removed my tie, undid my shirt and let it fall to the ground, then knelt to untie the laces of my shoes. Mistress stood in the corner of the lift, smiling that wicked little smile she sometimes gets when she is truly enjoying the exercise of her power. My shoes and socks came off, my trousers came down, and I was left standing in the lift clad only in her thong panties.
At that point Mistress stepped forward and kissed me deeply, her hands cupping my balls and stroking my cock through the panties. I was as edgy as a cat on a hot tin roof, ready to dive for my clothes the moment the lift started moving again. She, of course, had no such concerns – she was fully dressed! Still, there was no way I could kiss Mistress and not enjoy it … the kiss, and her hand, ensured that quickly I was thinking more about her than about getting caught.
There was a handrail, about waist-height around the edge of the lift. Mistress commanded me to stand against one wall of the lift, facing the wall, with my hands together holding the rail. As soon as I was in position she took my tie, and bound my hands to the railing. Now, of course, I was well and truly anxious and exposed. If the lift started moving, there would be no diving for my clothes. I was stuck for as long as she wanted me there. I hoped like hell that the woman from the elevator company had known what she was talking about.
My cock, of course, loved this risky and potentially humiliating situation, and was hard, distending the panties which were my only protection. Mistress noticed this and removed them. I was completely naked, bound by the wrists to a rail inside a lift. Then, of course, it got worse. Mistress removed my belt from my trousers and doubled it over in her hand, telling me in her softest, most sultry voice, “I am going to love this, subtoy.”
The strap connected with my asscheeks hard, MUCH harder than Mistress had done previously. I yelped and leaped forward, but there was nowhere for me to go. My butt felt like it was on fire, and that had only been one stroke. I loved it. I had been hoping for ages that Mistress would really go to town on my ass. She seemed to like it too, from her soft laugh. She struck again, and again. Thwap! Thwap! I was writhing and whimpering, but she loved it and that was what counted.
Twelve stroke later, my butt was a mess of red bruises and raising welts. I would be feeling this for a week. Mistress dropped my belt, untied the tie then retied my wrists without binding them to the post. “Lay on the floor, on your back,” she said.
This was easier commanded than done! With my hands bound, the only way onto my back was to slide first into a sitting position, then to ease back from there. I’d have to do it from corner to corner of the lift to fit. I slid into a sitting position and whimpered as my full weight pressed down on the welts on my ass. Ouch! It was almost like being whipped all over again. I eased back until I was laying down.
“Bend your knees and shuffle forward”
If sitting had been painful, this was ten times worse. I shuffled my ass forward along the ground, every inch of flesh stinging anew, until my knees were bent and my head a reasonable distance in from the corner. Mistress was still fully dressed, while I was laying on the floor of the lift, naked and bound. She stood over me, straddling my face, and even in the dim light of the lift I could look up along her toned legs to her shaved, sweet pussy, hiding up among the folds of her skirt. Yum.
Mistress squatted down, her skirt enveloping my head and her pussy lips a bare fraction of an inch from my face. She hovered there for a moment, teasing me, then dropped down slightly. My tongue, perfectly positioned, dove deep into her. She tasted delicious, and I was in heaven, lapping away frenetically, rewarded by the low, throaty sounds of an aroused Mistress. She stayed on my face until I was struggling for breath, then lifted her hips and repositioned slightly, with her clit at my mouth and my chin resting in the cleft between her pussy lips. I began sucking her clit the way she likes it, short sharp bursts followed by long, slow licks. Her moans changed slightly in pitch, and I knew I was serving well.
I’m still not sure how long I spent there, with Mistress sitting on my face. I tend to zone out a little while eating her, and lose all track of time, just enjoying the taste and concentrating on her reaction. Eventually, though, her breath shortened and came in quick little bursts. The muscles of her legs tightened against the side of my head and she let out a long, deep moan, cumming hard, grinding her pussy against my face. She slumped slightly against me, enveloping me in her pussy, the scent of her arousal, while she recovered.
It didn’t take her long, and within moments she was sliding herself back down along my body, kneeling astride me, easing my cock deep into her wet pussy. As always, she was warm, wet and soft inside, and after so much teasing I knew I couldn’t last long. So did she, of course, but as an expert tease she had a plan in mind. She sank right down on me, taking my entire cock, resting her weight on my hips. Mistress didn’t move, just sat there, eyes half closed, enjoying the feeling of my cock inside her. Then, without moving her body, she began contracting the muscles of her pussy, pulling them against my cock. It felt like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, her pussy massaging me from the inside. It was an intense feeling, enough to bring my arousal to fever pitch, but not enough to tip me over the edge.
At first, the feeling was intoxicating, then frustrating, then desperation-inducing. I began begging hard. “Please, Mistress … please may I move to fuck you? Please, will you move on my cock? I am so close, Ma’am, I want to come so badly, please? Please?”
It was music to her ears. She laughed softly. “How badly do you want to cum, subtoy?”
“Desperately, Mistress! Please? I really, really want to cum.”
She grinned softly and, without answering, began to ride my cock. She made me hold back for a dozen or so strokes, then nodded her head. I knew what that meant, and with a load groan, erupted up into her, fucking my hips up into her hard, the way she loves it. I kept fucking her hard, through my orgasm, until I could manage no more, and slumped slightly against the floor. But a slave’s work is never done. Mistress lifted herself again, and resumed her previous position, over my mouth. Our combined cum was dripping from her pussy, and she eased it down onto my face, letting me lap at her, cleaning her. I could taste her sweet juices, against the slightly acrid taste of my own. I cleaned up every drop I could find.
Mistress unbound me, and let me dress. I had never been so happy to get dressed in my life! Fifteen minutes of necking later, Mistress’ cellphone went off, and five minutes later we were free in the lobby. As we passed the security desk, we were called over by a blonde, hard-looking thirty-something female guard. She was lounging back behind the desk, looking at a panel of screens. Oh, fuck. One of them clearly showed the interior of an elevator. The woman, ignoring me, winked at Mistress.
“Nice show. You should hire him out.”
Mistress laughed and agreed, then led one humiliated but happy sub-toy from the building.