You’re definitely trapped with her

Dr Sartre releases her firm grip on your cock and begins running her nails up and down your shaft gently. The two of you are now trapped in here alone with each other. You jolt as she pinches the head of your cock tightly in between two finger nails.

“I have zhree rules zhat you must obey, Daveed. Rule number one, you will not touch me unless I say touch me. Rule number 2, you will not touch yourself unless I say touch yourself. Rule number 3, you will refer to me as ‘madam’ and madam only. Understand?”

You nod your head in fear. “Yes…” you whisper. Sartre cracks you hard across the cheek.

“YES MADAM, PIG,” she shouts.

“Y-yes madam…” you whimper. She spreads your mouth open with two long, skinny fingers and gathers her spit. You wait an agonizing moment before she releases it onto your waiting tongue.

“Say thank you, Monsieur,” she coos into your ear.

“Thank you, Madam,” you moan. Without warning, she buries your head in her ample bosom, shaking you and her massive titties back and forth. You stick your tongue out and lick her breasts all over. She cackles, delighting in your subservience to her.

“Would you like to see my body, Monsieur?” she purrs in your ear.

“Yes, Madam,” you mumble through her cleavage. She sneers in your face as she pulls back, cupping her almost freakishly large tits through her doctor’s coat. Gathering her spit, she drops another long, stringy strand of spit between her cleavage and kneads it into your breasts. Almost trembling, you reach your hand out and touch her wrist.

*SMACK*

Your face burns red from another slap. Sartre angrily leans into your face. “NO TOUCHING UNLESS I SAY SO, PIG!” She screams. You wince as she twists your nipple.

“Ok-ok-ok I’m sorry!” She slaps you again.

“MADAM!”

“I’m sorry Madam!!” You plead pathetically, your cheeks bright read from all the slaps.

“Good boy, Daveed,” she purrs, climbing into your lap. “Next time I will not be so nice.” She unbuttons her coat, dropping two fat H cup titties into view. In lieu of a bra, Sartre’s boobs are bound together by a single 2 inch wide ribbon that wraps around her back. She grabs them and jiggles them in your face gently. “You may touch me now Daveed.”

Still reeling from her slaps, you timidly grab a titty with your right hand and caress it gently. Her skin is smooth and her breasts have ample bounce to them. She giggles as you lose yourself in her chest.

You’re awakened from your trance by another twist of your nipple. A squeak escapes your mouth before Sartre covers it.

“Enough of that. You may not touch me anymore.” She whispers tersely. Producing a red rope from her jacket, she ties your hands together behind your head. Her heavy breasts dangle in front of your face. Fearing another smack, you lean your head back and stare.

Sartre unstraddles you and kneels down between your legs. She leans over your now throbbing cock and starts blowing small bubbles onto your tip. Your cock jumps, smacking her on the chin with a light *thwap*.

Sartre takes this contact with glee, slapping your tip onto her face with a smile. She giggles and slides her grip down to your base in a tight clamp. The sudden change causes you to cry out.

“Why do you cry Daveed? I thought you like your cock touched?” She giggles, tightening her grip even harder. She kisses your tip and blows more spitty bubbles on your dick.

“I like my cock sucked, actually,” you groan, attempting to pull your dick out of her grasp. She waggles your member in the air and pulls you by the cock up to her chest, lifting her breasts with her free hand onto your legs.

Sartre spits between her tits again and rubs them together. “You like my teets, Daveed?” she coos.

“Very much Madam,” you state bluntly. Your cock throbs between her hands in anticipation. She lifts her breasts up high and points your tip in between her cleavage.

“Do you want to _fuck _my teets, Daveed?” she whispers. You nod your head, hanging onto her every last word. She spits between her titties again and drops them onto you. A moan escapes your mouth as your member is quickly buried in her spitty cleavage. Your tip sticks out just enough to poke her in the chin. The ribbon around her chest squeezes Sartre’s breasts together tightly around your manhood. Placing her hands on either side, Dr Sartre begins slowly sliding her breasts up and down, spitting in between them periodically.

“Aren’t my teets so soft?” she purrs, bouncing up and down slowly. “You love to fuck my teets Daveed.” She was right, you did love fucking her sloppy titties. Her pace has increased a bit, as well as the amount of spit she was dropping down onto you. She opens her mouth, revealing a mint on her tongue. Gathering her spit again, she drops a huge glob of spit onto your tip and kneads it in with her hand.

Sartre leans down and accepts your tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head of your cock rapidly. Your eyes roll back in your head and you suck your teeth sharply.

“Fuck-uck-uck…” you moan. Sartre slides her left hand under her titties and gropes your ballsack, rubbing her sloppy, minty, spit into your skin. You twinge a little as she walks her fingers down your gooch and rubs your asshole gently. She plants her hands on your thighs. Taking your tip in her mouth, she begins rapidly swinging her chest down onto you with a heavy *THWAP*THWAP*THWAP*. Her tight suction keeps your tip between your lips. After a minute, she pauses and takes you into her mouth as deep as she can in this position, sliding her tongue back and forth along your top 4 inches. Your chest tightens as you feel an orgasm approaching.

Before you finish however, Sartre suddenly spits you out of her mouth and pinches your cock right below the tip, blocking your approaching splooge from exiting. A single shot of cum from your ruined orgasm shoots her in the neck, and she laughs seductively.

“You cum when I tell you to cum,” she hisses at you, wiggling her breasts back and forth. Your balls feel twice as heavy now, your seed still chambered and ready to shoot at any time. She reaches behind her back and snaps the ribbon holding her breasts together, sending a cascade of titty down onto your pelvis. She picks them up and squeezes them together on your cock before standing up.

Sartre grabs your face and spits on you. “You dirty piggy, *THEW* you fucking bitch *THEW* you make me sick *SLAP*” Fear begins to grip you again, you are unsure what you did wrong or when the **** will stop. She turns around and shoves her pussy in your face. You inhale the musky aromas with vigor and probe your tongue inside of her. She moans with glee and gyrates her buttcheeks up and down across your face. You find her clit with your tongue and tickle it with vigor. Before long, she tightens her grip on your knees and squirts hot cum all over your face and chest. You swallow as much as you can before spitting the rest onto her ass and thighs.

Now satisfied and almost glowing, Sartre slides her ass down your chest and stomach, leaving a snail trail on your torso. She comes to a stop with her vagina at the base of your penis, and grinds her hips seductively.

“You want to fuck thees pussy, Daveed? Tell me you want to fuck thees pussy.” She reaches down and grabs your balls tightly, pulling them out as she squeezes.

“Please, Madam, let me fuck your pussy,” you wince. “Please, have mercy on me,” you add. With glee, she raises her pussy up onto your cock, before slowly lowering herself back down. Your cock expands inside of her, reacting to her wet juices. She slowly raises herself up, and down, and up, and down. Still frustrated by your first denied orgasm, you push angrily against her fat butt cheeks, filling her pussy with all 10 inches of your dick. Sartre fondles your ballsack before giving it a firm slap.

“Ow, fuck!” you shout. “That fucking hurts!” Sartre smacks your balls again.

“That hurts, MADAM!” she shouts. She raises her butt into the air and SLAMS herself onto you, slapping your balls 3 times again for good measure.

“MADAM, MADAM, MADAM, AGHHH!” you moan, recoiling from her quick sack taps. Sartre begins bouncing up and down with vigor, still slapping your balls periodically. The mix of pain and pleasure drives you over the edge, and you feel another orgasm approach. Before you can finish however, Sartre unsheathes herself and kneels at your feet, pinching your dick below the tip again. You cry out in frustration as yet another orgasm is ruined.

“Good boys get to cum, Daveed, not filzhy PIGS! That can’t follow my RULES!” She chides, smacking your tip for emphasis.

“I’m sorry Madam! I’m sorry!” You plead, **** to avoid another beating. Your tip stings from these slaps, and your balls ache worse. Sartre grabs you by the hair and throws you onto the floor. You land pathetically on your bound hands and knees.