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Man is forced to play 'So You Think You Know Your Mate'.

ked and wearing a dog collar with your willy all locked up and me training you like a dog, but you do mind a little pink cloth?"

His eyes dropped. She noted his cock was pointy again. "I . . . I don't know. I'm just not into the whole . . . dressing like a girl thing."

She nodded, put her finger to her lips, pretending to consider it all, to mull it over, feigning deep concentration. "Hmm, I see. You're too manly to wear a girl's panties, even if your Mistress orders it."

He shrugged as best as his trussed up body would allow. "I don't mean it like that, not like something bad."

Ella spread the pretty pink panties neatly out across his chest and patted it, smiling. "So, being a girl isn't a bad thing?"

He shook his head, the hint of a grin starting on his lips. "No, Mistress."

He knew what she was planning. She knew he knew. It was a silent communication, and the erotic current that had been running through them all afternoon was humming along nicely once again, increasing in intense increments.

She snapped her fingers. "Pay attention."

With a start, he realized his eyes had drifted down to his chest, where the panties lay. He met her eyes and nodded, blinking. "Yes, Mistress."

She grinned. That grin was going to kill him, he knew. He was developing a love / hate relationship with that grin.

She stretched her body out beside him, her face close to his, her leg draped over his, her head propped up by her arm while she grinned, her eyes twinkling. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but I had an adventure planned. Your punishment is that the adventure is cancelled, but your real punishment is that I'm going to tell you what you'll be missing."

She ran her hand over his chest, enjoying the bumps of his muscles, of his rib cage, enjoying the broadness of his chest, the tickle of his chest hair on her fingers. She found the softness of his belly and the coarse hair surrounding his cock. His cock, which awaited her attention, was the key to him, she'd come to realize. She placed her finger in her mouth, made a show of wetting it, and placed her fingerprint on the underside of his cock, where it was most sensitive. She rubbed him there, softly, made slow circles and delighted at the big breath he took.

With a quiet, soft tone, just above a whisper, she spoke to him. She really did feel like a Goddess, casting a spell, seducing him. She wondered if he would break, and if so, how would long would he last.

"Do you know my friend from work? Christina?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"She's very attractive, isn't she?"

His throat bobbed. Trick question? "Not as attractive as you, Mistress."

Ella grinned and gave him a quick kiss. "But she is attractive. Red hair, petite, nice figure. You do find her attractive. I know you do."

He silently pursued his right, refusing to incriminate himself.

She chuckled. "She and I have become friends at work. We have lunch together often, talk about our lives, our boyfriends."

His throat bobbed again.

"Yes, Sweety, I talk about you. I didn't at first, but over the months she squirmed it out of me. She's fascinated by it. She's been having the usual boyfriend problems, you know? In the last few weeks I've told her quite a bit about what I've been doing to you."

He turned pale, looked guilty.

"She has expressed enough interest that I had planned on inviting her over for dinner one evening. I was uncertain, of course, but then I remembered that one of your fantasies was two women."

He remembered confessing to her under duress, her hand on his cock, his cock rock hard and straining, so on the edge of orgasm, so out of his mind. What couldn't come spilling out of his cock had come spilling out of his mouth, his latest fantasy. She was a woman who never forgot anything, who had obviously filed it away for later and was about to use it against him.

She made soft wet circles on the underside of his cock, slow and insistent, rhythmic and regular.

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