talking yo Nigel
- 3 years ago
- 19
- 0
My Boy Nigel free porn video
This story follows on immediately from Auntie Mary Part 2
Nigel stood, soaking at the door to the garden. "Go get a towel from the kitchen and dry yourself off. Then get dressed." I said. Make sure you don't leave a mess anywhere.
"Yes, Miss."
"Oh! And bring me my clothes."
A few minutes later, Nigel was back with my clothes neatly folded in his hands. He presented them to me.
"Thanks," I said, and stood up. I dropped the towel and dressed right then and there. No point in standing on ceremony with Nigel and Mary now. Well, I had only been wearing a t-shirt, jeans and plimsolls so it hardly took a second for me to dress anyway. I glanced down at Nigel's crotch; his jeans were baggy, but I was sure I could make out the vague shape of the cock cage. I took the small brass key from the arm of the chair and made sure he saw me put it in my jeans pocket.
Nigel picked up my towels, and took them away. I turned to Mary. "Is there anything I should know? Does he come with an instruction manual?"
She smiled. "Well," she said, "You should agree a safe word."
I nodded.
"And discuss with him if he has any limits you ought to know about."
I nodded again, but I must have looked slightly quizzical.
"You see," said Mary, "He is your boy through his own volition. He is not under duress. So there may be things that he is not willing to do, and you must respect those limits or..."
"...Or all bets are off?"
"That's right. It's a foundation of your relationship; as is your dominance over him. He may find it difficult, disturbing or uncomfortable if you don't exert your dominance over him. It would be like breaking the rules."
"OK." I said, but it wasn't really. I didn't have much of an idea what I was getting into. Nigel made us another cup of tea, and while Mary and I drank it, he put the stuff from the loft into the back of my car. In hushed tones, I explained the adventure of my mini's breakdown to Mary--somehow I didn't want Nigel to hear how I had behaved.
Mary smiled broadly, as I finished my story. "Well, well. Now I understand why you were aching. I think you'll find Nigel is... stimulating in a different way, but, I believe, no less intense."
When Nigel finished packing the car, he came and knelt next to me. "Time to go, I think." I said. "It has been lovely to see you, Mary."
"Don't be a stranger." She replied. "Come back soon and we can compare notes on your boy."
"It's a date!" I replied. Out in the hallway, I turned at the front door, to say goodbye. Mary opened a drawer in a small table and held something out for me.
"You'll want this." She said and handed me a dog lead and a collar.
"Thank you." I said, and smiled at Nigel.
"Good bye," said Mary.
"Bye."
And off we went. The drive home really didn't take that long. We got home around two pm, and Nigel got my stuff upstairs in a jiffy. I stood looking out of the living-room window while I waited for him to finish. When he was done, he knelt at my side, waiting for his next order. This would take some getting used to. Just as I turned to him, I saw a glint from the window across the street (my voyeur's window). I wasn't so sure he had binoculars this time. I wondered if it might be a camera with a telephoto lens.
I turned to Nigel, "Go to my bedroom and look in the wardrobe. you'll find a red latex dress, a pair of latex stockings and a pair of black patent leather ankle boots. Bring them here. Oh! And some talc."
"Yes Miss." He replied.
Moments later he returned and I undressed. First I pulled the dress down over my head; I needed to stretch it over my boobs and then wriggle it down my body, until it was taught and smooth. It only came a little way down my thighs. Then I sat on my armchair and pulled on each stocking in turn; I shook some talc into each in turn, then smoothed them up my leg; I love the feeling of being held tight by my latex. It is delicious. With both stockings on, I held out each foot in turn and had Nigel slip my boots on. Every so often I'd glance up and check that my friend was still watching. I wondered if he now had some new photos to add to his collection.
"Boy?"
"Yes Miss."
"We are being watched."
"Would you like me to draw the curtains?"
"No thank you, that's fine."
"Yes Miss."
"Are my boots dirty?"
"I can clean them for you Miss."
"Why don't you do just that?" Nigel knelt at my feet and began to lick my boots clean. They were already clean, but he enjoyed his work anyway. As he licked away, I looked up and through the window, wondering what was going through the mind of my voyeur. Did he spy on other people as well, or was I the lucky one?
"In the bathroom, on the shelf is some nail polish. A dark red that matches my dress."
"Yes Miss."
In a flash, Nigel returned and knelt next to me. I presented him with my left hand and he held it in his. slowly and carefully (and with some expertise) he painted each nail in turn. Then he moved over to the other side of my chair and painted the nails of my other hand. I held them up and looked them over: he'd done a very nice job.
"There's a clear lacquer as well." I said.
"Yes, Miss."
I let him sit still for a few minutes while the polish dried, then set him off coating my nails again. It was lovely, feeling his hand in mine as he carefully, methodically re-painted my nails. Funny to think just a few hours previously I had been peeing in his face.
Well, when Nigel had finished with the second coat, I let him kneel quietly again while the lacquer dried. Our voyeur was still watching intently from across the road. I held out my hands in turn to admire my nails and checked that they were dry, then I slid down lower in my chair and hitched up my skirt a little; enough to show off my pussy to Mr Binoculars (or was it Mr Telephoto?). I raked my fingernails up my inner thighs and teased my clit with the tip of my index finger. Nigel just knelt to one side, his head bowed--but he must have been able to see what I was doing.
I was feeling hot; excited with having Nigel do my bidding, and excited that this unknown man across the road was at least watching me, if not photographing me. It wasn't long before I slipped a finger into my burning pussy; I threw back my head, open mouthed, enjoying the feel of my finger in my own cunt. One finger became two and I was soon pumping them in and out of my sopping wet hole as Nigel knelt next to me.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes Miss."
"You like watching your Mistress finger fuck herself?"
"Yes Miss."
Two fingers in my pussy--in and out, in and out; the index finger of my other hand pressed hard against my clit. I moaned.
"You'd like to fuck your Mistress's pussy, wouldn't you?"
"Y..yes Miss."
"I bet you would."
"Well, let's see how good you are. Shall we?"
"Yes Miss."
He couldn't stop himself watching as I rammed two fingers knuckle deep into myself. Over and over again, as I pinched my clit with the other hand. My nipples poked up against the latex making two little lumps in the smooth surface of the dress.
I stood up and straightened my dress. Looking straight out the window, I winked at my admirer. "Follow me." I said, and walked out of the living room and into the spare bedroom. Turning to face Nigel I commanded, "Strip."
He needed no second telling and moments later was standing in front of me, stark naked but for the cage around his cock. I motioned to the bed, "Lie down." I had hardly been in this room since my first dalliance with dominance; the rope I had bought that day, still coiled in the drawer. It didn't take me long to have Nigel tied down, spread-eagle on the bed. Then I left the room.
I went back into the living room and sat on my armchair. I wanted Nigel to wait. To anticipate what was to come. I looked out through the bay window and, sure enough, I could see a lens. I was still being watched. God that got me hot--but then so did the idea that Nigel was lying on the bed, waiting for me, and unable to have an erection. I folded my arms to press my breasts together and enhance my cleavage. I looked down at myself and then across through the window, smiling. He was watching me, and I knew it; and he knew that I knew it. Then I made a show of straightening my latex stockings; stretching each leg out in turn and rubbing my hands upwards to smooth out any wrinkles. It felt delicious.
How many pictures had my admirer taken? Had he wanked off to them? Published them on the internet? God, how that gave me a thrill. Eventually, I stood up, blew a kiss through the window and went into the kitchen. I emerged a few moments later with a candle and a box of matches.
"Now then. have you been waiting like a good boy?" I asked as I entered the bedroom.
"Yes, Miss." replied Nigel.
"Glad to hear it."
I set the candle down upright on the chest of drawers in the bedroom, and lit it, letting Nigel see what I was doing. Then I took the lit candle and walked over to the bed.
"Can you be quiet, boy?"
He nodded.
"Good boy. Because if you can be quiet, you'll have a reward. But if you make a sound... Well, you don't want to know what I'll do if you make a sound. Understood?"
He nodded again.
I looked down at Nigel and held the candle above his chest at shoulder height. I tipped the candle slightly to one side, and a drop of wax fell with a splat on his skin. His body jerked, but his mouth stayed shut. I had never done this before, and was acting from instinct and GCSE physics! I reckoned that the higher the candle from his body, the more chance it would have to cool before it hit him.
I tilted the candle again and another drop of wax fell, landing just next to the first. Again, Nigel's body jerked, but he stayed quiet. Drip, drip, drip, I let more wax fall, and slowly lowered my hand. Nigel was looking at me wide eyed, but stayed completely quiet. I slowly moved down his body, and slowly let the temperature of the wax increase by lowering my hand. Nigel's spasms seemed most satisfying (to me at least) when the wax hit his thighs. So tender.
Next, I held the candle only a foot or so above Nigel's nipples and dripped enough to cover each in turn. As well as convulsing, Nigel's mouth opened in a silent scream. My heart was pounding with the thrill of torturing him like this and I realized, I hadn't taken Mary's advice. We didn't have a safe word. But it was too late for now. I didn't want this to stop anyway.
With nipples and torso spattered with wax, I focused on Nigel's navel. I spent a few minutes letting wax build up and pool in his navel. That had him writhing, and biting his lip, but he stayed silent. And I was so hot I needed some relief myself. I climbed up onto the bed and stood astride his head, allowing him the opportunity to look up at his Mistress's glistening pussy. Slowly, I lowered myself down onto his face, after turning so I looked down over his wax covered body. When I was on my knees, I could feel his breath on my cunt, then I lowered myself further still and sat on his face.
I felt his tongue eager to push into my slit and wriggled my arse to help him find me. As soon as I felt his tongue inside me, I dropped more wax on his torso and felt him writhe as he fucked me with his tongue. It felt so fucking good, being in control of this boy and putting my own pleasure first. I pressed my pussy onto his face, and dripped more wax on his chest; one drop hit my thigh and it made me gasp and flinch. Now I knew what it was like.
Nigel's tongue was taking me close to orgasm; I set the candle down on the bedside table and stood up. He watched as I left the room. "You've been very good--very quiet." I said when I returned. I showed him what I had brought: the key. I slowly undid the padlock on his cage and opened it. As I slipped his balls from the ring at the back of the cage, his cock started to stand proud. In seconds he had a raging hard-on. Once more I took the candle and once more I stood astride him--this time above his waist, above his throbbing cock. I lowered myself and dripped wax on his belly; as I got to my knees, I could feel the tip of his cock brush my thighs.
One hand on his cock, I guided him to my lips; with the other hand, I spilled wax across his chest; he so wanted to stay still, so wanted his cock deep in my cunt. Slowly I let the head of his cock slide inside my dripping pussy; then I splashed more wax on his nipples and his convulsion sent him deep inside me. The look on his face was amazing; the wide eyed pleasure and pain of the moment was exquisite.
But I wanted him too. I bounced up and down on his raging cock, splashing hot wax across his chest, his belly. I reached behind myself with my other hand and gave his balls a squeeze as I rode him. Closing my eyes, I imagined my admirer, wishing he could see me control Nigel, control his every action his every sound, directing him towards my pleasure, towards my inevitable orgasm. And when it came, boy how it came. It started as a tingling in my toes and flooded up through my body, exploding through my cunt, my clit my nipples my breasts. Every nerve in my body jangling, as I arched my back and closed my eyes; I rode the wave of orgasm after orgasm.
When I opened my eyes, I realized that I'd dropped the candle to the floor; mercifully, it had gone out. With Nigel's now softening cock still inside me, I leaned forward and picked the wax off his body with a fingernail, piece by piece. Eventually, his cock slipped from my pussy, and his spunk ran down my thighs. I had been so absorbed in my own orgasm, I hadn't realized that he too had cum.
An hour later, he was gone. I sent him home after untying him and letting him dress (though not before I put his cock back in its cage, and hung the key around my neck on a chain). When I wanted him back, he would be there, in an instant. He was mine--how weird--he was mine! I sat in my armchair, now dressed back in my jeans and t-shirt, exhausted and satisfied, wondering what life would throw at me next.
Nigel stood, soaking at the door to the garden. "Go get a towel from the kitchen and dry yourself off. Then get dressed." I said. Make sure you don't leave a mess anywhere.
"Yes, Miss."
"Oh! And bring me my clothes."
A few minutes later, Nigel was back with my clothes neatly folded in his hands. He presented them to me.
"Thanks," I said, and stood up. I dropped the towel and dressed right then and there. No point in standing on ceremony with Nigel and Mary now. Well, I had only been wearing a t-shirt, jeans and plimsolls so it hardly took a second for me to dress anyway. I glanced down at Nigel's crotch; his jeans were baggy, but I was sure I could make out the vague shape of the cock cage. I took the small brass key from the arm of the chair and made sure he saw me put it in my jeans pocket.
Nigel picked up my towels, and took them away. I turned to Mary. "Is there anything I should know? Does he come with an instruction manual?"
She smiled. "Well," she said, "You should agree a safe word."
I nodded.
"And discuss with him if he has any limits you ought to know about."
I nodded again, but I must have looked slightly quizzical.
"You see," said Mary, "He is your boy through his own volition. He is not under duress. So there may be things that he is not willing to do, and you must respect those limits or..."
"...Or all bets are off?"
"That's right. It's a foundation of your relationship; as is your dominance over him. He may find it difficult, disturbing or uncomfortable if you don't exert your dominance over him. It would be like breaking the rules."
"OK." I said, but it wasn't really. I didn't have much of an idea what I was getting into. Nigel made us another cup of tea, and while Mary and I drank it, he put the stuff from the loft into the back of my car. In hushed tones, I explained the adventure of my mini's breakdown to Mary--somehow I didn't want Nigel to hear how I had behaved.
Mary smiled broadly, as I finished my story. "Well, well. Now I understand why you were aching. I think you'll find Nigel is... stimulating in a different way, but, I believe, no less intense."
When Nigel finished packing the car, he came and knelt next to me. "Time to go, I think." I said. "It has been lovely to see you, Mary."
"Don't be a stranger." She replied. "Come back soon and we can compare notes on your boy."
"It's a date!" I replied. Out in the hallway, I turned at the front door, to say goodbye. Mary opened a drawer in a small table and held something out for me.
"You'll want this." She said and handed me a dog lead and a collar.
"Thank you." I said, and smiled at Nigel.
"Good bye," said Mary.
"Bye."
And off we went. The drive home really didn't take that long. We got home around two pm, and Nigel got my stuff upstairs in a jiffy. I stood looking out of the living-room window while I waited for him to finish. When he was done, he knelt at my side, waiting for his next order. This would take some getting used to. Just as I turned to him, I saw a glint from the window across the street (my voyeur's window). I wasn't so sure he had binoculars this time. I wondered if it might be a camera with a telephoto lens.
I turned to Nigel, "Go to my bedroom and look in the wardrobe. you'll find a red latex dress, a pair of latex stockings and a pair of black patent leather ankle boots. Bring them here. Oh! And some talc."
"Yes Miss." He replied.
Moments later he returned and I undressed. First I pulled the dress down over my head; I needed to stretch it over my boobs and then wriggle it down my body, until it was taught and smooth. It only came a little way down my thighs. Then I sat on my armchair and pulled on each stocking in turn; I shook some talc into each in turn, then smoothed them up my leg; I love the feeling of being held tight by my latex. It is delicious. With both stockings on, I held out each foot in turn and had Nigel slip my boots on. Every so often I'd glance up and check that my friend was still watching. I wondered if he now had some new photos to add to his collection.
"Boy?"
"Yes Miss."
"We are being watched."
"Would you like me to draw the curtains?"
"No thank you, that's fine."
"Yes Miss."
"Are my boots dirty?"
"I can clean them for you Miss."
"Why don't you do just that?" Nigel knelt at my feet and began to lick my boots clean. They were already clean, but he enjoyed his work anyway. As he licked away, I looked up and through the window, wondering what was going through the mind of my voyeur. Did he spy on other people as well, or was I the lucky one?
"In the bathroom, on the shelf is some nail polish. A dark red that matches my dress."
"Yes Miss."
In a flash, Nigel returned and knelt next to me. I presented him with my left hand and he held it in his. slowly and carefully (and with some expertise) he painted each nail in turn. Then he moved over to the other side of my chair and painted the nails of my other hand. I held them up and looked them over: he'd done a very nice job.
"There's a clear lacquer as well." I said.
"Yes, Miss."
I let him sit still for a few minutes while the polish dried, then set him off coating my nails again. It was lovely, feeling his hand in mine as he carefully, methodically re-painted my nails. Funny to think just a few hours previously I had been peeing in his face.
Well, when Nigel had finished with the second coat, I let him kneel quietly again while the lacquer dried. Our voyeur was still watching intently from across the road. I held out my hands in turn to admire my nails and checked that they were dry, then I slid down lower in my chair and hitched up my skirt a little; enough to show off my pussy to Mr Binoculars (or was it Mr Telephoto?). I raked my fingernails up my inner thighs and teased my clit with the tip of my index finger. Nigel just knelt to one side, his head bowed--but he must have been able to see what I was doing.
I was feeling hot; excited with having Nigel do my bidding, and excited that this unknown man across the road was at least watching me, if not photographing me. It wasn't long before I slipped a finger into my burning pussy; I threw back my head, open mouthed, enjoying the feel of my finger in my own cunt. One finger became two and I was soon pumping them in and out of my sopping wet hole as Nigel knelt next to me.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes Miss."
"You like watching your Mistress finger fuck herself?"
"Yes Miss."
Two fingers in my pussy--in and out, in and out; the index finger of my other hand pressed hard against my clit. I moaned.
"You'd like to fuck your Mistress's pussy, wouldn't you?"
"Y..yes Miss."
"I bet you would."
"Well, let's see how good you are. Shall we?"
"Yes Miss."
He couldn't stop himself watching as I rammed two fingers knuckle deep into myself. Over and over again, as I pinched my clit with the other hand. My nipples poked up against the latex making two little lumps in the smooth surface of the dress.
I stood up and straightened my dress. Looking straight out the window, I winked at my admirer. "Follow me." I said, and walked out of the living room and into the spare bedroom. Turning to face Nigel I commanded, "Strip."
He needed no second telling and moments later was standing in front of me, stark naked but for the cage around his cock. I motioned to the bed, "Lie down." I had hardly been in this room since my first dalliance with dominance; the rope I had bought that day, still coiled in the drawer. It didn't take me long to have Nigel tied down, spread-eagle on the bed. Then I left the room.
I went back into the living room and sat on my armchair. I wanted Nigel to wait. To anticipate what was to come. I looked out through the bay window and, sure enough, I could see a lens. I was still being watched. God that got me hot--but then so did the idea that Nigel was lying on the bed, waiting for me, and unable to have an erection. I folded my arms to press my breasts together and enhance my cleavage. I looked down at myself and then across through the window, smiling. He was watching me, and I knew it; and he knew that I knew it. Then I made a show of straightening my latex stockings; stretching each leg out in turn and rubbing my hands upwards to smooth out any wrinkles. It felt delicious.
How many pictures had my admirer taken? Had he wanked off to them? Published them on the internet? God, how that gave me a thrill. Eventually, I stood up, blew a kiss through the window and went into the kitchen. I emerged a few moments later with a candle and a box of matches.
"Now then. have you been waiting like a good boy?" I asked as I entered the bedroom.
"Yes, Miss." replied Nigel.
"Glad to hear it."
I set the candle down upright on the chest of drawers in the bedroom, and lit it, letting Nigel see what I was doing. Then I took the lit candle and walked over to the bed.
"Can you be quiet, boy?"
He nodded.
"Good boy. Because if you can be quiet, you'll have a reward. But if you make a sound... Well, you don't want to know what I'll do if you make a sound. Understood?"
He nodded again.
I looked down at Nigel and held the candle above his chest at shoulder height. I tipped the candle slightly to one side, and a drop of wax fell with a splat on his skin. His body jerked, but his mouth stayed shut. I had never done this before, and was acting from instinct and GCSE physics! I reckoned that the higher the candle from his body, the more chance it would have to cool before it hit him.
I tilted the candle again and another drop of wax fell, landing just next to the first. Again, Nigel's body jerked, but he stayed quiet. Drip, drip, drip, I let more wax fall, and slowly lowered my hand. Nigel was looking at me wide eyed, but stayed completely quiet. I slowly moved down his body, and slowly let the temperature of the wax increase by lowering my hand. Nigel's spasms seemed most satisfying (to me at least) when the wax hit his thighs. So tender.
Next, I held the candle only a foot or so above Nigel's nipples and dripped enough to cover each in turn. As well as convulsing, Nigel's mouth opened in a silent scream. My heart was pounding with the thrill of torturing him like this and I realized, I hadn't taken Mary's advice. We didn't have a safe word. But it was too late for now. I didn't want this to stop anyway.
With nipples and torso spattered with wax, I focused on Nigel's navel. I spent a few minutes letting wax build up and pool in his navel. That had him writhing, and biting his lip, but he stayed silent. And I was so hot I needed some relief myself. I climbed up onto the bed and stood astride his head, allowing him the opportunity to look up at his Mistress's glistening pussy. Slowly, I lowered myself down onto his face, after turning so I looked down over his wax covered body. When I was on my knees, I could feel his breath on my cunt, then I lowered myself further still and sat on his face.
I felt his tongue eager to push into my slit and wriggled my arse to help him find me. As soon as I felt his tongue inside me, I dropped more wax on his torso and felt him writhe as he fucked me with his tongue. It felt so fucking good, being in control of this boy and putting my own pleasure first. I pressed my pussy onto his face, and dripped more wax on his chest; one drop hit my thigh and it made me gasp and flinch. Now I knew what it was like.
Nigel's tongue was taking me close to orgasm; I set the candle down on the bedside table and stood up. He watched as I left the room. "You've been very good--very quiet." I said when I returned. I showed him what I had brought: the key. I slowly undid the padlock on his cage and opened it. As I slipped his balls from the ring at the back of the cage, his cock started to stand proud. In seconds he had a raging hard-on. Once more I took the candle and once more I stood astride him--this time above his waist, above his throbbing cock. I lowered myself and dripped wax on his belly; as I got to my knees, I could feel the tip of his cock brush my thighs.
One hand on his cock, I guided him to my lips; with the other hand, I spilled wax across his chest; he so wanted to stay still, so wanted his cock deep in my cunt. Slowly I let the head of his cock slide inside my dripping pussy; then I splashed more wax on his nipples and his convulsion sent him deep inside me. The look on his face was amazing; the wide eyed pleasure and pain of the moment was exquisite.
But I wanted him too. I bounced up and down on his raging cock, splashing hot wax across his chest, his belly. I reached behind myself with my other hand and gave his balls a squeeze as I rode him. Closing my eyes, I imagined my admirer, wishing he could see me control Nigel, control his every action his every sound, directing him towards my pleasure, towards my inevitable orgasm. And when it came, boy how it came. It started as a tingling in my toes and flooded up through my body, exploding through my cunt, my clit my nipples my breasts. Every nerve in my body jangling, as I arched my back and closed my eyes; I rode the wave of orgasm after orgasm.
When I opened my eyes, I realized that I'd dropped the candle to the floor; mercifully, it had gone out. With Nigel's now softening cock still inside me, I leaned forward and picked the wax off his body with a fingernail, piece by piece. Eventually, his cock slipped from my pussy, and his spunk ran down my thighs. I had been so absorbed in my own orgasm, I hadn't realized that he too had cum.
An hour later, he was gone. I sent him home after untying him and letting him dress (though not before I put his cock back in its cage, and hung the key around my neck on a chain). When I wanted him back, he would be there, in an instant. He was mine--how weird--he was mine! I sat in my armchair, now dressed back in my jeans and t-shirt, exhausted and satisfied, wondering what life would throw at me next.
Barbie
- 18.09.2020
- 24
- 0
- Category:
- BDSM
