“Sounds good.” I replied, thinking of a few other things we could do instead, but this was her show, and I’d already ad-libbed enough.
Grabbing the remote from the table behind the couch, she flicked on the set and started scrolling through a streaming service menu. Stopping on a popular sit-com from a dozen years ago I knew we’d both watched many times. She picked an episode at random and started it playing, returning the remote, then placing her hand on my chest near her face.
I stretched out the leg she wasn’t wrapped around and flexed the knee a couple times. Sitting in one position for too long always made them sore.
“Do you need to put your leg up?” Kathy asked with a crooked smile.
“It wouldn’t hurt.” I said, already picking up on what she planned.
“Hey, pig-fuck, make yourself useful as a foot rest, now.” She commanded.
A “Yes, Miss” came out without delay.
I raised my leg in the air, he bent over putting his hands on the floor and crawled a couple steps to position himself under it. Then, dropped to his elbows, and placed his forearms and hands flat against the short shag area rug. Finally he lowered his bruised and plugged ass until his back was more or less perpendicular to the floor. I set my leg down on his back and said, “Ah, that’s better, thanks, pig-fuck.”
“Yes, Sir.”
We sat and watched about an episode and a half, before the doorbell rang out to announce that the food had been dropped off at the front door. “I’ll go grab that.” Kathy said, getting up to retrieve the food and serve it up. “Fork or chop-sticks?” She asked me.
When she unhooked her leg from mine, I raised and crossed it over my other leg, placing both on pig-fuck’s back. “Chop-sticks, please.” I replied.
She returned with the food, handing me a plate loaded with lo mein, fried rice and crispy beef, a pair of acrylic chop-sticks with a floral design inlay stuck out of the noodle pile. She also set down a restaurant style bottle of soy sauce atop a coaster on the table behind the couch. She then turned to the coffee table, scooping some of the rice, noodles and chicken dish from her plate onto the plate she’d previously used to feed pig-fuck his own cum. With that plate, she walked over to the strip of hardwood showing between the rug and the wall underneath the mounted TV. She placed it on the ground, turned and told pig-fuck, “If your hungry, eat. But… no hands and that plate doesn’t move from that spot, understand?”
“Yes, Miss.” As I lifted my legs from his back and he crawled on all fours over to the plate.
Kathy joined me on the couch, and we ate and watched TV while pig-fuck struggled to eat the messy Chinese food like a dog without moving the plate or making a mess. To his credit, he was able to clean the plate and it stayed within a few centimeters from its starting position. When he’d finished, he looked to Kathy for instruction.
“You’ve been a good little pig-fuck so far.” She started, “You may have a fifteen minute break to do whatever you want, with a few exceptions; the plug stays in, the cage stays on, and all clothes stay off.” She glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, which I took as an invitation to add any stipulations of my own.
“You better be back, on your knees, right there,” I pointed at the spot in front of the side chair. “When the timer goes off.”
“Yes, Miss. Yes Sir.” He nodded.
Kathy called out again to the smart speaker for a 15 minute timer. When it said ‘starting now’ pig-fuck got up from his knees and stretched. He rubbed his sore ass, then picked up the plate from the ground, turned to us and motioned to our plates on the coffee table with a questioning look. I waved my hand dismissively, and she just gave a single nod. He picked up both plates, taking all three into the kitchen, from which he could hear the sounds of them being rinsed and loaded into the washer.
“Do you think it’s working?” Kathy asked me quietly.
“So far, I think so. It took a bit to break him, but I think you’ve done it.”
“Not just me.” She met my eyes, but gestured a hand toward my crotch. “That. Well, that was something else, wasn’t it?”
“Ah, yeah.” I started a little nervously, “I hope that wasn’t too much.”
“I thought it was hot as fuck, actually.” She said, while trailing a finger up and down my chest. “Did you like it?”
I thought about how to respond. I wasn’t sure I’d fully processed all my feelings about having forced pig-fuck to suck me. “I liked the power, the control. I know it probably makes me sound like a complete asshole, but that’s the part I enjoyed.”
“Don’t worry,” she laughed, “I’ve been literally dripping with power all night too.”
I chuckled at the pun, “I see what you did there.”
“Well, you’ll get to do more than see it, don’t worry.” Then turned her attention back to the TV, but continued to casually stroke my chest from the top of my neatly trimmed pubes up to my neck and back down.
Shortly, pig-fuck reentered the room, and got on his knees in the spot I had pointed out before. He knelt there silently for just under a minute before the timer went off.
“Punctual.” I said.
“That’s a good pig-fucker. I’m tired, if I had to punish you for being late, it would have been… unpleasant.” She said menacingly. Then, to me, “You want your footstool back?”
I didn’t even have to answer, pig-fuck got on all fours and crawled across the rug to take his footstool position. I lifted my free leg, bringing it back down on his back as Kathy pulled me tighter into her embrace.
We let the comedy show play for several more episodes, a couple of times making pig-fuck go to the kitchen to get us drinks. After which he resumed his position as my foot rest.
We had reached the end of a season, so she stopped the playback, yawned and said. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah, it’s been a long night.” I agreed.
“And, I’m going to need you to have plenty of energy tomorrow.” She patted my chest before getting up. “Wait here a sec, I’ll be right back.”
I removed my leg from its rest and stood as she returned carrying a blanket. Tossing the blanket on the couch, she reached out her hand for me to guide me out of the living room.
“Good night, pig.” She said as we walked away. “Try to get some rest, it could be a long day tomorrow.”
A fading “Yes, Miss.” followed us down the hall.
Kathy’s bedroom was a stark juxtaposition from the rest of the carefully styled house. Almost no decoration on the walls, with the exception of one framed photo of an older man and woman. The resemblance to Kathy was unmistakable. “Your parents?” I asked?
“Grandparents, actually.” She replied, smiling wistfully at the photo. “Nana, and Pop-pop. My Dad’s parents. We lost them both a few years back.” Her eyes were a little misty, “Fuckin’ cancer.” She added.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up…” she cut me off by throwing her arms around my neck and getting on her toes to plant a kiss on my lips.
“It’s okay.” she whispered as she broke away from the kiss.
I glanced around the rest of the room. The bed was a California King, neatly made, but not fancily so. Two pillows in plain gray cases that matched the strip of folded sheet visible below lay on each side. They were propped against a plain, but nice, dark wood headboard that was mounted to the wall. The duvet cover offered almost the only color in the room, being a dark blue with thin white stripes. At the foot of the bed, a wood chest, with a thin cushion, about eight inches shorter than the bed, and a few feet beyond that, a pair of identical dressers. A TV stood across them, one set of its feet on each dresser. Small night stands that obviously matched the headboard and dressers placed on either side of the bed completed the furniture of the room. Each table held a small lamp, which was currently the only light in the room, both glowing a soft yellow. The ceiling fan overhead spinning slowly, but the lights attached were dark. One wall was broken by a closed double sliding set of mirrored doors, behind which I assumed was the closet. Another, by a partially open door with darkness behind it, which probably led to a bathroom.
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