Have me suck your cock

“Hands and knees.” You let the chain drop, and I gasp as it tugs against my aching nipples. I shakily push myself to all fours, and follow the tug of the leash pulling my face into your lap, pressing up against the growing bulge in your crotch. You unzip and present me with your cock.

“This should help keep you quiet.”

I take you into my mouth, sliding my tongue over your cockhead, around, under. It’s hard to pay as close attention as I should, with the plug in my cunt buzzing and shifting and the sway of the train pulling at my poor sore chest and clit, and I lose the rhythm as I’m overwhelmed by a full-body shudder. My tooth grazes your cock, and I freeze.

“Really? I reward you, and this is how you behave?” Your hands are in my hair, and you’re yanking me down, your cock forcing its way down my throat. I ****, and my torso twists and squirms without my input. You pull back to the entrance to my throat and shove back in. I can’t help the squeal that escapes me as I **** again.

“Look at me.” I raise my teary eyes to meet yours. “I’m disappointed in you, boy.” Another thrust, and I gag, tears streaming down my face. If my mouth wasn’t full, I would be falling over myself with apologies, begging your forgiveness. As it is, all I can do is keep my eyes raised to yours as my throat convulses around you. “You know I hate to have to punish you, but you’ve earned it this time.” You hold up the remote, finger on the “increase” setting.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no please-

You press the button and hold it. The vibration in my cunt ramps up from bearable to overstimulated beyond belief within seconds. I can’t help it; I scream, your cock only somewhat muffling the sound as you hold my head pinned to your groin with an iron grip. My body is thrashing and near-convulsing on the floor. You keep fucking into my face as tears flood down my face, snot and mucous bubbling from my nose, until you grunt and spurt down my throat. Then you fumble for the remote and, thank God, turn off the plug before letting my head drop. I crumple to the floor, unable to do more than gasp and sob.

“Damn,” comes an unfamiliar voice from the door of the cubicle. “That was hot, man.” I don’t have the energy to open my eyes, but I can hear the soft shlicking sound that tells me he’s working his own cock.

“You can come on him, if you want,” you say. You sound almost bored. “With all the rolling around on the floor he’s been doing, he’ll have to wash when he gets home anyway. On his face, I think.”

“Thanks, bro.” The stranger’s breathing deepens, sharpens. Then warm stickiness lands on my forehead, my cheek, on my lips.

The train is slowing. There’s a tug on my leash.

“Get up, boy. This is our stop.”