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Dinner, Cigars, ...and a Noose
She met me at the door as I arrived home from work wearing a simple black dress and black boots with stiletto heels.
"Put down your briefcase," she commanded as she began to undo my tie and unbutton my shirt. It didn't take long to get me down to my shorts. She turned me around and pressed me playfully with my face against the wall.
"Give me your hands."
She took one wrist and looped a doubled length of cord around it, then placed its partner over and tied another loop, then snugged the rope together and tied it off so I was securely tied, but not uncomfortable. The rope was soft and pleasant against my skin.
She turned me back toward her and pressed her body against mine. Her hands were everywhere, and her moist lips tasted sweet. She ravished me against the wall. She kissed me slowly and gently. She nibbled at my ears and nipples. She ran her nails down my side.
I had not even made it past the entrance and I was completely overwhelmed.
After 30 minutes of pleasurable kissing, she put her arm through the space at my elbow and we walked toward the dining room table like lovers on a stroll in the park--except that I was tied.
The table was set with one place setting, a single long candle, and a see-through humidor.
She pulled my chair out for me and offered me a seat, then removed a plate being kept warm in the oven.
The food smelled delicious. A medium steak, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. I smiled lovingly as she poured a glass of red wine that had been breathing on the counter and put the glass to my lips.
In mid sip I stopped as my eyes locked onto the scene in the living room.
She could see the terror in my eyes, so she kissed me on the forehead and tried to be reassuring. "Don't worry baby, it'll be fun. You'll see." She got up and pulled the partly opened door closed so I would not be distracted from my meal.
Still, I was afraid.
"What are you going to do," I asked.
"I promise, it will be fun. Relax," she said as she cut a piece of steak and brought it to my mouth with the fork.
She was gentle and pleasant as she fed me, occasionally holding a piece of steak between her lips and letting me take it from her with a sensuous kiss. From time to time she lifted the wine glass to my lips and I was beginning to feel just slightly woozy. It was a wonderful meal, but I couldn't erase the vision of the living room.
In the middle of the room there was an old wooden chair.
Dangling over the chair was a rope--a hangman's noose to be exact--threaded through an eyelet in the ceiling...
"Do you mind if I smoke?" she asked as I took the last piece of steak from her fingers.
"No," I responded as I took each digit into my mouth and licked it clean.
She knew of my cigar fetish and teased me mercilessly.
She finally wiped her hands on the white linen napkin and opened the humidor. After reviewing the selections she settled on the Gurkha Assasin Churchill. An appropriate choice considering what was ahead, I thought.
She snipped, toasted, and rolled the cigar between her thumb and index finger enjoying its oily wrapper and heft. She put the cigar to her lips tasting the head, and then moistened the wrapper around the foot. She ran the cigar under her nose and took in the aroma of the unlit cigar.
The cover of the lighter clicked as she flipped it open with her thumb. She ignited it and slowly roasted the end until the corona began to smoke and turn red. Then she put it to her lips and gently tugged as she rotated the cigar for a nice even burn. The contrast between the dark wrapper and the white ash was beautiful and she was beautiful smoking it. Her glossed red lips caressed the cigar and the smoke she drew lazily wafted over her lips.
She took another long, luxurious puff and slowly blew the smoke toward me. She lifted the wine glass to her lips, took a sip, and then leaned toward me for a long kiss. Her lips were warm and moist against mine.
With her left hand, she pushed my head forward toward the plate. As my nose neared the mashed potatoes I began to resist and tried to sit back up.
"Don't resist me," she said playfully, but firmly. "Relax your muscles."
I obeyed and she pressed my face into the small hill of potatoes. My nose touched first, then my forehead and chin. Once I was immersed, she rocked my head from side to side until my face and cheeks were covered in a mashed potato mask. When satisfied that I was sufficiently covered, she grabbed my hair and pulled me upright. We both smiled at the situation. She took a long draw of the cigar making the embers glow and exhaled deliciously toward me.
She grabbed my chin and examined me. Then she leaned in and began to lick the potato mask from my face occasionally taking a long puff on the cigar. She took long, deliberate licks. From time to time she would press her moist lips against mine. Sometimes she would release a stream of smoke into my mouth.
When there was slightly less than an inch of ash on the cigar she held it over my plate and tapped.
"Finish your potatoes," she instructed. "I want you to clean your plate."
I hesitated. There was ash on my food. Certainly she didn't expect me to really eat that mess...
"I'm not kidding," she said, her tone changing from playful to demanding. "Start eating!"
I smiled, and nervously giggled. I bowed my head toward the plate hoping she would call off the joke and laugh it off.
But she didn't.
Instead, she took another puff and blew the smoke toward me. "Come on, lap it all up," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
I took a lick.
"Good boy," she said, but that was not enough to satisfy her. She insisted that I finish and I did. I lapped up the ashes and potatoes as commanded, as she looked on and prodded me.
When the plate was cleaned by my tongue, she held the wine glass to my lips. I swished the wine around in my mouth to clean it. Then she wiped my face clean with a wet cloth and smiled. She held the cigar in a very masculine way, resting on the thumb and middle finger with the index finger curled over the top. She put it to her lips and took several deep puffs making her eyes squint and enveloping her in a cloud of blue-gray haze. Some smoke was exhaled from her nose and the rest of it streamed through her pursed lips.
As the cloud dissipated, she stood and pulled me up from my chair by my elbow.
"Are you ready, lover?" she asked with a grin that made me worried about what was ahead.
We walked arm-in-arm into the living room. My legs were quivering, partly from the wine and partly from the fear in my mind of what was to come next.
She moved the coffee table to one side and ordered me to my knees.
As I knelt, she went to get the wine, several glasses, and a vegetable tray from the refridgerator.
"Are you expecting guests?" I asked.
"Oh just a few," she said as she placed the humidor on the coffee table.
I began to quiver uncontrolably, and began to beg her to reconsider. I liked BDSM, but didn't feel ready to be humiliated in front of her friends.
She ignored my protests and went about the house preparing. Finally, she casually came up behind me and forced a ball gag into my mouth and pulled the straps tightly to secure it. I looked up at her with pleading eyes, but stopped trying to speak.
She went about preparing for guests. In a short while I could feel the drool running down my chin.
A short while later, there was a knock at the door. I heard feminine giggles and strained to hear the hushed conversation.
She offered her friends a seat on the couch where I was kneeling and offered them wine and cigars. One took a Macanudo, the other a Rocky Patel Sun Grown Toro. She introduced us and the two ladies blushed and averted their eyes downward, obviously a bit uncomfortable.
She removed the gag and wiped my chin with a napkin.
Be a gentleman, she said sweetly and offer the ladies a light.
I knew I'd be best served by playing along. "Could I offer you ladies a light?" I asked, wondering how I could be expected to perform the task.
"Yes, thank you," replied one, followed by a shy, affirmative nod from the other.
My Domme slipped a large wooden match from the box and placed it between my lips. She picked up her own Assassin put the box up toward the match and motioned for me to strike it.
The match burst into flame and I felt the heat against my cheeks and lips. My Domme relit her cigar, then watched as the flame burned perilously close to my lips. She smiled at my obedience in not dropping the match and blew a strong stream of smoke into my face which extinguished the flame.
We followed the same procedure for the other ladies.
My Domme had to coax the other ladies to blow smoke into my face--they were apprehensive at first.
"Don't worry," she assured them, "he loves it!"
They put their feet on the coffee table and I am commanded to lick their boots. I begin to lick hesitantly.
"Take it in your mouth..." says my Domina. "Get into it! Lap!! Lick the heels! Wrap your lips around her stilettos!" I make love to their boots with my tongue and lips.
Then my Domina gives me a sip of wine to wash out my mouth
One by one I perform cunnilingus on them while they puff on their cigars and enjoy their wine. As I lap, they run their nails over my back and head. They pull my hair and direct my efforts as they squirm with pleasure.
I perform for over an hour until they are wild with passion taking long sensuous laps. I am afraid and do my best to please them.
My neck and back are in agony because my hands are still tied behind my back.
The women are sweaty and their thighs are warm against my cheek. They are panting and satisfied.
"Let's get him up," my Domina says to her friends. They put their cigars into the ashtray, help me to stand, and walk me over to the chair.
My Domina snips the cap of a Rocky Patel Sun Grown Toro and places it between my lips, slips the noose over my head, and snugs it up against my throat while her friends tie my ankles to the chair.
When I am secured to the chair, she takes the cigar from me and kisses me passionately on the lips before replacing it in my mouth.
The ladies return to the couch, pick up their cigars, and admire their handiwork as they puff, and sip from their glasses.
My cigar is still not lit.
"Every condemned man gets his last cigar. Are you ready?" my Domina asks.
I nod (a little nervous)...
She pulls out a blue paper dust mask like one would get at Home Depot when sanding drywall. There is a large hole where the mouth is and a few smaller holes on the side. She twirls it around by the elastic band on her index finger and gives it to one of her friends who walks over to me, takes my cigar, and slips the mask over my face. Then she slides the cigar through the hole.
I know what is about to happen and I am terrified.
My Domina gives the lighter to her other friend and she walks over to me, flicks to cover open with her thumb and holds the lighter in front of me for a few moments for effect.
Then she turns the wheel with her thumb, raises my chin with her other index finger, and puts the flame close to the cigar. "Light up darling," she says.
As I puff, the mask fills with smoke. The holes allow some to escape, but I am forced to inhale the lions share of the smoke. I gag and tears roll down my cheeks.
She takes a big puff of her own Churchill cigar and exhales into my face.
All the girls giggle.
They enjoy their cigars and wine on the couch and converse, occasionally glancing over at me in agony on my wooden chair with a noose around my neck.
"Puff, darling," commands my Domina. "I want to see your cheeks hollow when you puff," she says.
There is about an inch of ash now on my cigar.
My Domina tells me to take another puff.
I do.
The ladies don't even notice. They are talking among themselves on the couch and sipping their wine. They tap their ash, sip, and occasionally glance over at me in agony puffing on my cigar.
When I have made it about halfway through my cigar there is another knock at the door.
"Untie him and get him on his knees," my Domina instructs her friends as she points her cigar at me.
She gets up from the couch and returns with a gentleman.
He is muscular and handsome. They walk in arm-in-arm.
"Honey, meet William," she introduces us.
"You are going to suck William's cock, dear," she instructs me.
I look incredulously at everyone in the room. I am not gay and have never sucked a man's cock.
My Domina offers William a cigar and a glass of wine. She lights his cigar, then begins to unbuckle his pants.
Two ladies are sitting on the couch, William and I are in front of them. My Domina pulls the footstool around on the other side of William and I.
She lifts her cigar to her lips, takes a long drag, and exhales into my face. She sits on the ottoman and unbuckles William's pants pulling down his pants and shorts.
He has a large cock, larger than mine.
"Don't you wish yours was that big, honey?" she asks me admiring his member. "Kiss it, darling," I'm instructed.
I hesitate.
I feel her hand behind me forcing my face forward.
She pushes my face toward the large cock.
"Don't resist me," she says as she feels my neck tense.
"Take it in, put your tongue out, caress it..."
"Honey...," I plead, "please, come on..."
I see her eyes become cruel. I have never seen such a stern, mean look in her eyes. She ashes her cigar, takes a strong pull and makes the embers glow red. She turns my face to meet hers by my chin, then puts the foot of the cigar close to my left eye.
"I'm going to tell you one last time. Kiss that cock, open your mouth, and lick it. Or...the next thing you feel will be this cigar in your eye," she said in an even, controlled, even casual tone. "And he'd better not feel any teeth. You had better please William, dear... as if your life depends on it."
My heart was beating fast, my mouth is dry, for the first time I feel a cock in my mouth.
"Wrap your lips around it just like this," she says as she wraps her lips around her cigar and pulls bringing the embers to life.
I feel the cock growing. She smiles as she pushes my head forward and I'm gagged by the cock pushing the back of my throat.
She grabs my hair, pulls my head back so the huge, engorged cock drops out and gives me a sip of wine.
"Wet your lips," she instructs. "Now, back to work!"
I run my lips and tongue all around the member. I can taste the salty precum on my tongue.
I wince.
"Don't stop," she commands.
The girls on the couch are giggling and she has a wicked smile as she strokes the back of my head and puffs on her cigar.
William is beginning to grunt.
"Don't you dare miss a drop," she instructs.
I continue to suck William's cock.
I lap at it gently and run my tongue along the length. It is sticky with precum.
"Kiss his balls," she instructs, and I obey.
I lap at them, suck them, and kiss them. I take him in my mouth all the way in until I gag.
The woman are laughing at my obvious discomfort and humiliation.
William continues to puff on his cigar and grunts occasionally. Domme rubs his butt.
"You'd better please him," my Domme instructs.
I increase the speed of my sucking. She grabs my hair and forcibly pushes my mouth back and forth. I bob my head at her command.
Tears are rolling down my cheeks.
I am so humiliated.
I can feel his cock throbbing. More cum is spilling into my mouth.
The women are cheering.
"You'd better not miss any when he comes..." she tells me.
I take William deep into my mouth.
She has me by the hair.
I know it's going to be soon and brace for his cum. He finally explodes into my mouth. I wince, but gulp.
Tears stream down my face. I can't believe I have done this.
The women clap!
A little bit of cum drips down my chin.
"Good, boy," she says, wiping my chin with her index finger and forcing me to suck the last drop from her finger.
I lower my eyes to the floor.
"Help him up," she instructs her friends and they pull me up by my elbows.
She pulls the rope taut and secures it so I am standing with the noose around my neck and there is no slack.
She unlocks my cock cage, ties my hands in front of me, but with a chain so they cannot rise above my waist.
She sticks my cigar back in my mouth (this time without the mask though, thankfully) and gives me a light since it has gone out.
"Give us a show," she says as she hands me a condom. "Go ahead, don't be shy..."
I put the condom on and begin to stroke as everyone watches from the couch.
"Puff," she commands...
I puff on the cigar. The smoke stings my eyes and nose. It doesn't take long until I cum in the condom.
"Go tie his hands behind his back again," she says to William. He gets up and pulls my hands roughly behind my back. He is larger and stronger than me. It would be futile to resist him. He ties my hands uncomfortably tight behind my back.
My Domme comes up to me and places a step stool next to me. "Get up on the chair," she demands.
I am in fear.
"Look..." I begin to say. She slaps me across the face with full force. It stings. I see anger and a mean glint in her eyes. My lips are quivering. She smiles in satisfaction at my fear.
"Start climbing she commands and pulls on the rope forcing me to climb... Once I am on the chair she pulls me onto my toes and secures the rope.
"Tie his feet together," she instructs one of her friends.
"Wait! Wait!" I plead.
Her friend ties my feet together. I'm standing on tiptoes with a noose around my neck and hands securely fastened.
My Domme climbs the step stool and stands beside me with the condom full of my own cum. "Put your tongue out," she whispers.
I am trembling, but I obey.
She pours the contents onto my tongue, touches my chin with her index finger and orders me to swallow. "You're getting to be quite a slut," she whispers with a playful smile. Then she takes my cigar and holds it to my lips. She forces me to puff until I gag and tears roll down my cheeks. She holds it until there is about an inch of ash accumulated.
"Hold out your tongue, baby," she says.
"Please. Please..." I say, but know it is futile.
I put my tongue out and she taps the ash onto it. I wince as the hot embers burn my tongue.
"Don't swallow them," she instructs. "I want she to CHEW them up. Get that ash all over your mouth."
The ash is bitter and nasty.
When I have sufficiently chewed, she spits a big wad into my mouth and steps off the ladder.
I look into their eyes, and see.... laughter. Everyone is laughing uncontrollably.
My legs are wobbly and the rope is tight against my throat.
The laughter dies down and they begin to talk among themselves and enjoy their cigars and drinks.
My mouth is dry and neck is raw from the rope. My toes are quivering.
She turns on the television and begins to flip through the channels. The conversation turns to what is on television.
"Do you want to put in a CD?" she asks the group. She looks at the choices and hand a few out to her guests.
William looks over at me, takes a pull of his cigar, raises his glass toward me, and winks.
I am quivering on the chair. I can't speak. I am gasping for air. Tears are running down my cheeks.
My Domme pre-heats the oven to 475 degrees and pops in some pizza rolls.
"THE END"
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