Page 3 of Devil in Disguise

“Yes,” they come out muffled because of the puppy mask, so I speak louder. “Yes, my devil.”

I don’t know what has me using the name, but it feels fitting for her. Typically, a dominatrix prefers to give me a name to call them, but addressing them without a title is considered rude or deserving of a punishment. And as much as I cannot wait for her to punish me, I also didn’t want to disrespect her by not giving her a title.

I watch as she contemplates letting me use it or punishing me for it. Either way, I am already enraptured by her.

“I will allow it because I did not introduce myself first,” she says. My shoulders relax a little bit, watching her take the stage like she has all the power.

And she does. The way her muscles move and flex as she struts across the polished hardwood, lights illuminating her latex bodysuit, it’s captivating. Her posture is stiff, commanding. She is every bit of the devil she claims, and I want to burn in her flame.

Glancing out at the small audience, it’s clear that all of them would kiss her boots if she demanded, yet I’m the lucky pup with access right now.

After she introduces herself, she shows the audience some of the equipment on stage, gauging what they want to see happen here tonight. I sit patiently, waiting like the desperate good boy I crave to be called.

She walks over to a chair that looks more like a throne and sits down. Calculating eyes scan me on my knees until finally, she pats her leg, and I crawl to her seductively. I can hear theaudience moan in approval, and when my head reaches her legs, she parts them so that I can look up at her.

“Good boy,” she praises softly. I groan, sitting back on my heels because the words resonate deep within me. As if I needed to hear them in order to take my next breath.

I’m wearing black leather pants and no shirt. Thankfully, Boris forced me to stay in shape to keep up with the missions I’m brought on, so even though I am quickly approaching fifty, I have a decent torso.

A black-gloved finger, with the nail pushing at the end, trails along my collarbone, causing goosebumps to erupt over my skin.

“Does my good boy want to take a walk?”

I nod, but quickly remember to use my words. “Yes, my devil.”

Her bright red lips stretch into a broad smile. She leans over me, her breasts purposefully right at eye level as she fastens a leather strap around my neck. Tempting me. But I refuse to take the bait and sit perfectly still.

The leash is already attached when she fastens the leather strap. When she sits back, she pulls on it, making my chin rest on her exposed thigh. I rub my face against it, breathing in her scent as I submit.

It's familiar, comforting, and all consuming. I allow it to be the only thing that exists, finding that space in my mind that feels as if I curled into a nest of my own making.

Slowly, she stands and walks me around the stage. I crawl for her like my life depends on it, and when I catch the eye of a few people in the audience, I can see they are truly enjoying the show.

She forces me to lay my head on her boots, then asks me to kiss them. The leather under my lips is like a cool refresh to the heat my body feels, so I rub my cheek into them too, giving her every bit of my submission and affection in one.

Every once in a while, I check the room, seeing more and morepeople filing in until no seats are left, and they are forced to stand in the back.

They’re all here for her, and I understand why.

“Does my little pup want to play with some toys?”

She gestures to a spanking bench. My back stiffens as I nod swiftly, all but shaking my imaginary tail for her.

“Yes, my devil. Please.”

The way her lips stretch into an approving grin, the red somehow deeper, almost bloody, has my cock straining in my pants like a teenager.

After fastening me to the bench, my arms locked by my head and ankles fastened tightly so that I am completely at her mercy, she takes a knife and cuts a line in the leather pants so that my leaking, throbbing length is finally free.

“Oh no, someone didn’t listen to those instructions,” she says, and I rack my brain trying to figure out what she could be talking about. The leather tears further so that my ass and balls are exposed to the audience, my hard cock in the air for all to see.

And I love every second of it.

That’s when I realize what else I was supposed to put on.

“My little pup was supposed to be in a cock cage.”

Her gloved hand wraps around my length and squeezes until I feel myself drip for her.

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