Dormant

Me frowns. “Are you getting bored of my costume show already? Does the sight of Me in this outfit not make you hard instantly?” she asks. “In the books I’ve read, seamen would fall at my feet, as I’d shiver their timbers and give them a jolly rogering. Still, flaccid does have its advantages.”

She reaches into a pocket of her dark-green frock coat and pulls out an empty glass bottle. “Do you know what I’m going to do with this?” she asks, as she waves it in front of your face. She then lowers it to your cock, and maneuvers your cock into the bottle through the narrow neck. “This is a little like a ship in a bottle, where you can’t figure out how something so huge would fit in, although the secret here is to put your cock in when it’s tiny... although it won’t stay tiny for long.”

While one of her hands supports the bottle, her other one massages your balls. “No, this is more like a genie in the bottle, although the more I rub, the more the genie will stay in the bottle. He may never ever get out.” You wince as your cock grows hard, the bottle neck tight around its base, and then she removes her hands, and the bottle’s left hanging from your cock, tightly secured by your erection.

“That must be painful,” she says, a wicked glint in her eyes as she looks at the squashed base of your cock and you writhing in agony. “Now let’s really turn you on...”