boy toys | femdom

✰ | darling ;

You look good, what's your name?" I sip slowly from my glass, the soft fruity flavors dancing across my tongue. Red lipstick paired with red-bottom heels, a short black dress, and a leather jacket-splayed out on my lap. The man before me couldn't see it, the counter covering his view.

"Nova. And you?" His eyes run over me, before stopping at the drink I held in my hand.

"Adrion. How about another round?" I take a sip, before shaking my head politely. "Oh, c'mon, just one more-" A hand slams onto the counter next to me, the metal thud of rings against the marble announcing his arrival.

"Fuck off." The owner of the leather jacket spits, towering above the other man. I roll my eyes. Adrion excused himself with a quick apology and the man turns to look down at me.
"Really, Nova?"

A white tee and cargos, the smell of pine and linen. Dark brown eyes and slicked back hair. Slater was everything that you would imagine him to be. A motorcyclist, boxing champion, and... "Really."

Mine.

My darling.

He leans his chin against his knuckles, looking down at me in a way that is so very him.

"What?" Slater huffs out a breath, turns away, and drags a hand down his clean shaven face.

"How much longer is this going to last?" He says through clenched teeth. I blink at him, feigning innocence.

"What do you mean, darling?" His knuckles are white against the counter. The smirk that rises to my lips is far more than knowing. Slater glares at me.

"This... no touching thing." He finally forces out. "I'm fucking horny all of the time." I laugh and he rubs a hand against the back of his neck. I lean in, my lips next to his ear.

Slater doesn't breathe as I whisper. "How about now?" I purr, and he swallows hard, muttering a quiet curse. "You've been good, darling, haven't you?" I see the way he melts, the glimmer in his eyes a telltale sign of his eagerness.

"I-I have. Mistress, I have."

"And you've listened to the rules?" He nods with fervor and I smile. "Let's go home then."

-

Not a single word is exchanged from the moment we leave the bar and the second we step inside. He won't risk fucking up his chance of release and I wasn't going to push him to. The fact that he even lasted this long was admirable.

The door locks behind me and I drop my bag onto the couch. I wave my fingers and he follows, trailing behind me. The bedroom feels infinitely close and infinitely far. "Get naked and on your knees, hands on your lap. Don't move until I'm done showering.'

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you." I disappear into the bathroom.

I take my time. Wiping the makeup from my face, undressing, lathering soap over my arms. I know he'd listen as I showered, imagining the way the water ran over my body. And when I finally did step out, he was already dripping.

I set the damp towel onto the nightstand.

The silk robe on my shoulders felt soft against my skin. And he, in all of his muscular glory, was beautiful. Lean and powerful, he sat back on his heels, legs spread apart. His eyes were on the floor, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. Precum gathered against his dick, a much larger amount than I was expecting.

He definitely didn't touch himself at all these past weeks.

I slip on the heels and approach him, yet he doesn't raise his head. He stays in the perfect position, rigidly and hoping to please. I tap his dick with my shoe and his entire body jolts. A low groan leaves his mouth, his abdomen flexing. "Mistress, p-please," I raise his chin. His chocolate eyes meet mine.