To be one's self

At some point it became obvious that the ‘massage’ had stopped being about Jesse… or rather had become more a grounds for Cynthia to explore some of her own frustrations. The girl began letting her pristinely-sharpened fingernails rake across the sissy’s soft skin. Scratching and plucking and teasing at his nerves. Always on the very edge where tickling sensitivities might give way to actual pain… but never did. The enraptured fucktoy could barely whimper through the barrage of electric feelings she drew out of him. It didn’t hurt… but at times he almost felt like he wanted it to, just to complete the physical and emotional tightrope she was keeping him on. He caught his own body rising up to chase after the fading impression of her painted claws. The girl could almost make him rise up off the mattress in bated breath, a puppet pulled upward by strings of stinging delight.

Soon, her teeth came into play as well… biting and nibbling and pinching at random points across his chest and neck. Yet more sources of pointed interaction that drove Cynthia’s submissive practice-dummy mad with longing, whenever they detached. She sucked upon his neck and left a gleaming, purple hickey… a clear sign and message for any others that might love him. Soon joined by several others up and down his feeble frame and interspersed with the perfect indentations of her dental records that were becoming carved across his thighs and flanks. Jesse hated to think what Betsy might think, seeing those un-hideable traces. However, in this moment, his actual heart sped up with every new one she left. The absolute control this harpy had simply taken, over his physical and spiritual self, was an intoxicating whirlpool of emotions he just couldn’t escape. He had come here hoping for… something… from that blue-eyed boy half the block lusted after. But, what he had found instead… made the sissy’s head spin with confused arousal. He had never felt like this before. No-one had been so casually cruel… not since that terrible afternoon he had spent staring up at the blue sky, as one unwashed delinquent after another gruntingly ejaculated onto his electrified body. Was this really what his inner self wanted? Was that what every patronising, mass-produced, ‘motivational’ meme or poster which told you to ‘be true to yourself’ meant? That he was the smallest ape. The pretty, little runt of the litter. Who would only really be happy if he let himself be pulled apart and used to breaking by the rest of his kind.

Cynthia was gasping now, too. Her face glowing red with the efforts of half-mending/half-tormenting her provided client. She was grinding her hips against the throbbing little lump she had grown from Jesse’s groin. Squeezing it with the sopping cameltoe of her slowly-tearing tights. Feeling that thin material begin to give way, a fresh wave of panic rippled through her prey:

“D-Don’t… l-let it go in!” He squeaked, trying to get the words out around his own panting tongue. “They’ll know… and you’d h-have to p-pay!”

The masseuse laughed sardonically, pulling her back straight to grab a breath of fresher air.

“Pay? For you?! When I’d hardly even notice if it had gone in? No, you don’t d-deserve that… I can get everything I need… l-like this…”

And, it was true. Jesse could feel the girl’s body beginning to convulse on top of him just from the grinding friction of her thighs against his small shaft. She continued to rake those nails up and down his chest… but the sissy suddenly realised that Cynthia was at her limit, bucking with the orgasmic bliss of what she had done to him. While his own cock and soul still throbbed with a want for her to keep going. To squish it down beneath the press of her body-weight more and bite and scratch and tear at him for just. A. Little. Bit. Longer! He had never found himself in a position where someone else had got him into such a state and then reached their own climax first. The terrifying teen deflated herself back down on to him, trembling with the after effects of her own climax… and he simply did not know what to do. His trapped little erection twitched and cried out to be squeezed and rubbed and crushed some more… but it did so to no avail… Ignored by the gushing flower of womanhood that nonetheless remained so tantalisingly close. Cynthia latched her mouth onto his neck once more, sucking and nibbling in a way that might almost have been affectionate again. Yet, Jesse was left staring at the ceiling… listening to his own thumping heartbeat fade.