Originally published on Literotica.
“Perhaps one of my favorite paintings in the whole museum is this portrait of Madam de Pompadour by Francois Boucher. This was one of many paintings the artist completed of the Marquise. She was clearly an object of fascination for him beyond his duty as the royal portrait-maker, because none of the other royals were immortalized with the same quantity.” The tourists smiled politely but since this was the end of the tour, he knew their minds were on sitting and eating.
“It’s not just that she represents the height of elegance and taste at the time, she is also shown here as a potent intellect, an ambassador of the Enlightenment. Note that she looks as though we, the viewers, are interrupting her precious reading time.” The crowd murmured its appreciation.
Alex shook some hands and answered some additional questions before he strolled at his usual docent pace back to the office. His dark hair cut and combed just how his Mistress likes it, his dress shirt a powder blue that she had admired aloud in the past.
He wore his Mona Lisa smile, his sweet resting face, an emblem of his servitude. He could barely wait to get home, but he savored the anticipation.
On the metro, he thought of her. He had been uncertain about the cage, but as soon as she put it on him and hung the key around her luminous neck, something in him shifted. He could not form the feeling into words other than describe it physically: the cold steel containing his cock and balls. But somehow being contained had made everything else fluid. And tonight, she was going to take it off.
At his stop, he quickly climbed the stairs and practically sailed down the street to his apartment.
He turned his key in the lock and nudged the door open. The gloaming made the large, simple living room a pearly blue. A single cone of honeyed light from the reading lamp shone down on her red hair. She was coiled and reclined along the sofa, her feet tucked against each other. She looked up from her book. And smiled.
Alex put down his things and took off his clothes, his gaze and his Mistress’ gaze almost a solid thing in the space connecting them. He unbuttoned, unzipped, and shed all those pesky fabrics, just left them in a ring around his nakedness. He came to all fours and crawled to her. She set her book on the table and looked down at him.
“Hello, sweet boy.”
“I am so glad you are home.”
“I thought about nothing else but serving you today.”
She smiled again, and took off her glasses. “Very well. Pick me up, slave, and carry me into the bedroom.”
Alex stood, addressing his Mistress with his arms and lifting her off the sofa, collecting her. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek, a tiny gesture that sent little spasms to his restricted cock.
He lay her down carefully and she lifted her arms so he could raise her soft dress over her head. She turned away deliberately so that his eyes could find her, the fine lines at her eyes, the mauve of her nipples, the strong cage of her ribs. With a new wave of heat, he admired the twinkling gold chain around her neck, where a burnished Victorian key lay nestled between her ample breasts. A primal pulse visibly moved the cage fastened around his genitalia.
She pointed to the floor where he should kneel. She lifted her hips and he removed her panties with great care. Spreading her legs and then her rosy petals, he lapped at her pussy lightly and slowly. She sighed and softened further on the bed, closing her eyes. Alex became lost in his first task, with only his insistent, cramped prick reminding him he was still in a body.
A bell tolled in the distance as the light diminished and night seeped in, his Mistress cooing to him, playing with his hair, tugging the back of his head to crush his face against the sweet bloom of her pussy. He nibbled on her clit just as he was taught, and when he felt a climax approaching, he directed his tongue just below her little button and flicked her to her orgasm, lifting the pitch and volume of her cries. She wailed her highest note and then laughed with happy relief. Several times.
A tap on his shoulder and he withdrew, his cock now bulging aggressively at its confines.
“Sit up, sweetness.”
Alex brought himself upright so that he was still on his knees, his face flushed and blissed out.
His Mistress unhooked the chain from her smooth white neck, and leaned over to take his confined cock in one hand. She met his eyes and watched his face intently. With a hush, the key slid into the lock, turned. Gently, she released him and he exhaled. He looked down as his Mistress soothed the soft flesh that had been constrained by the chastity device. Immediately, his cock struck 12.
“You have responded so well to being caged, my sweet boy,”
“I am so glad you are pleased, Mistress.”
He stood and assumed the position with his hands on his head. She tugged gently on his testes, letting her fingertips roll the skin around his swollen orbs. He fell into his deep breathing, also part of his training to keep control of himself, to last as long as she needed him to.
His Mistress brushed her forehead along the stretch of skin below his navel before she placed a single kiss at the top of his shaft. The first contact of her lips shot arrows of sensation through his groin. A crystal of precum already perched on the little smile of his urethra, and she tapped it with a fingertip and rubbed it in a little circle on his head before blowing across it, cooling the very finest point of his body.
Then she enveloped his penis completely with her mouth, squeezing his sack with one hand. She pumped down and back slowly three times with the full suction of her mouth before letting him go. His cock almost cried at the sudden lack of her lips.
Again she pointed and brought him on all fours, this time on the bed with his ass in the air. She placed a hand on each of his cheeks and stroked him, gathering his flesh so she could spread him. “Face down, slave,” she commanded and he brought his forehead down on the bedspread. The hot lash of her tongue drawing wet lines along his taint was almost too much for the recently liberated animal of his cock, but he used his breathing as his Mistress groaned and nipped at his undercarriage.
“So sweet and soft,” she crooned, rubbing her cheeks all over his cheeks as she fondled his dangling balls. He could not help but whimper with pleasure.
“Shh, there there,” she soothed him right before she rimmed him, dipping her tongue into his ring with hummingbird lightness. An agonizing wail escaped him. She withdrew, leaving him gasping and bent over on the bed, his elbows quaking at his sides.
“You must remain calm, slave. Focus.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he croaked. His nuts felt as though they were pounding against each other, matching the frenetic rhythm of his heart. She smiled and scratched down his back, along his ribs, into the fold between his belly and thigh, taking hold of him at his root and using it to shake him gently. Then she released him and the sudden absence of her touch enraged his demanding penis.
A long beat went by.
He was floating, a vessel cut loose from its moorings without the firm tether of his Mistress. He remained still, his only power to bring her back, his obedience. The room was silent except for the night sounds of the city, the streetlights gaining intensity. His ears strained for a sound and when he heard her in the background, his tender hole, his cock, his stomach and heart all seemed to hear her too.
The room darkened. Then the gentle glow of a few candles appeared in the periphery. Her fingers on the back of his thighs let him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sensed her kneeling behind him, felt the cool shape of her phallus against his inner thigh. Her mouth lavished saliva on his waiting orifice, her hands slick with lube, and he tucked slightly, bracing himself when he realized how hungry she was. Knees on the inside of his knees brought his already vulnerable stance even wider and his heart resumed its thrumming. His cock, once again, insisting on her touch.
“Reach back, slave, and open yourself for me to enter you.” Her voice sounded so warm, assuring him that him she was going to love him from the inside, and a little sob popped out of him. His shoulders pushed into the bed as his hands found his buttocks and pulled them open for his Mistress to tap at his hole. “Such a good boy,” she whispered. She rocked away, then came in close, tapping so gently at his opening that his cock mercilessly wagged in the air. Alex drooled onto the bed.
And then she tapped and stayed, pinning him at one, tiny point of contact. He waited like he was on tiptoe on a tight wire over a canyon. He felt her breasts on his back, her arm sweeping under him, and then suddenly she was inside of him and he let out a true groan.
“Easy, darling boy. Easy. I’m going to take you like this for a long time.” And she started to sway her hips in and out of him, painstakingly, letting her full weight come onto him. She nestled in and ground her pelvis into his, clawing at his back and wrapping an occasional fist around his taut cock.
Alex’s Mistress slithered along her slave’s back, never letting up with her rhythm, as though she wanted to crawl right inside his ass. His face fell slack as she robbed his brain of words. Finally, she straightened up, grabbed his hips and started to properly, forcefully fuck him.
“God, I love working you over, slut, I just love how you open up and take it.”
“Please take me, Mistress, please let me come.”
“No, sweetheart”—she licked her teeth with deep satisfaction at denying him—”you may not come, because I’m still going to use your cock for two or three more orgasms. This is why we put you in the cage, darling, so you learn to save all that boy juice.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he managed to say before words left him again.
She took his rapt, willing hole as the candles burned down to half-mast, leaking wax out into their bowls. Alex was now in some other realm, his asshole stretched and hot and the bed below his Mistress’s cunt damp from the steady dripping of her desire. Neither spoke, just flowed together until Alex’s moans became howls and his Mistress clamped down on his hipbones to deliver her cock deeper into him. A raking, graveling shriek came out of him and a spurt of liquid exited his Mistress as he progasmed and she clenched with sympathetic climax.
She pushed him flat on the bed, giving him permission to relax and quickly detach her harness. He heaved big breaths and his cock burned underneath him. His parameter crackled as he sensed her vacating his space. But a moment later she was at his face, lifting his chin and pressing a cold glass of water to his lips. Their eyes met in the dark and she brushed tears off his thick brown lashes. When he finished drinking, she met his lips in a languid kiss, hushing him, stroking his body, calming him for the next round.
She came to the top of their big beautiful bed, shoved some pillows aside and sprawled in the candlelight. His eyes, first and foremost, loved her, sought her details, her changes, her curiosities. She lifted her copper hair away from her neck and rolled away while his eyes drenched themselves in her classical curves, her gardenia white skin, ample wide hips. In her he saw a living embodiment of so many of the paintings he loved.
He knew it was his job to cup the back of her body, to freely explore her, to suck and study every part of her. Lazing over her flesh with his lips and hands, stroking her curves with the planes of his face in his worship, he thought again of Boucher relishing in his service to his Mistress with sensual strokes of the brush. Alex was free to move her and arrange her limbs however he needed to seek all her delicious secrets, lifting her ankle and consuming her toes.
Then she reached back and grabbed his sprung cock and casually stated, “Enter me.”
The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived. She had built this moment with careful grooming, with every touch during his chastity achieving an oceanic splendor. Her generous ass presented itself to Alex and he saw the lilting folds of her again, swollen with desire for him. She flexed her spine like a cat and her hand found his shaft so she could guide it to her entrance.
“Make love to me, slave,” she said as he slipped inside her, completing the symmetry of the act, their parts liquefying, their bodies blending and recomposing into one like pigment and oil becoming a saturated hue. He flowed right into her like a tributary and their mutual moans hit the same note before harmonizing, cresting waves of sound, each stroke making a new song.
He remained there on the very edge, waves of disbelief crashed over him that he could last this long after a week of restriction.
Their joy leveled right out of their bodies, as pure a vibration as music or color. When Alex realized he was about to let go, his attention snapped back to his Mistress, who was undulating along the length of his desperate cock. He bore down on his own release and she must have known because she pulled him back in and letting out an animal roar, inviting him to emancipate his cum deep into her depths.
His Mistress drew back with her upper body and met his eyes, her jaw dropped but her face soft with a knowing, loving glance over her shoulder. His cock needed no further permission – his cockhead went molten, bursting inside her in a nebula so bright it seemed to light her up from the inside, her ribcage suddenly billowing, her fingers splayed. She swallowed him from the inside. They popped like a bubble together and dropped to the bed.
The candles sputtered in their trays and the indigo of the sky suggested dawn was on its way. Alex and his Mistress lay meshed together, still, restored by silence. He felt her breathing slowing and it slowed his. He sat up for a moment. He embraced her again. The band of light spanned from dark red to yellow to light blue outside as they easily slipped into sleep, their exhaustion so pure.