Deeply Humiliated

He licked her at first with gentle, long strokes, and with every prompt from her, which was a tap of her finger on his back, he increased the rhythm. He pushed his tongue into her pussy, wet and juicy, holding her legs with his hands. Her knees buckled and she moaned softly. He moaned too, his tongue deeply embedded in her interior.

He stood on stage and observed the crowd moving in front of him without any excitement. There was a general hysteria and euphoria. He felt he didn’t belong here, none of it meant much to him. Fame, adoration; maybe just money. He stretched his mouth into a smile and responded to the bewildered audience. He raised his arms, and the tight shirt stretched over his sexy, muscular body. He waved at them and stepped towards the ecstatic crowd, and madness ensued. Women screamed, pushed each other, trying to climb onto the stage and grab him, to touch him and kiss him if they could. A piece of clothing, a strand of hair, a touch of his divine being. The guards skillfully prevented the excited women.

He turned his back to them, showing them his round, firm buttocks and headed to the dressing room. The madness did not subside. They called for him. He returned to the stage, calmly sat on a high bar stool, and took the microphone in his hands. His sensual voice, without instrumental accompaniment, silenced the crowd. Hypnotized, they watched him as the sounds of his voice sent shivers through their excited bodies, in their hot blood. Suddenly, silence reigned, and then they quietly joined him. Sex radiated from his presence, from his voice, and the gentle, love song "mowed down" all present. As he sang the last lines of the song, he stood up, blew them a kiss, and headed back to the dressing room, not giving them another chance to call him for an encore.

He was tired. He had given them everything he could. He entered the dressing room, wearily sank into an armchair, and stared blankly ahead. He knew that a new madness would now begin and he wanted to escape from it all. He ruled over people, their lives in some way, without wanting it at all. Now he just wanted a little peace. Although he would enjoy a "little" sex, a little is not quite an accurate definition, but there was no one who could provide it for him the way he wanted. Few knew of his sexual appetites. Myra, his friend, was far away, and no one here knew him like she did. Suddenly, the door opened and a woman entered the dressing room. With a sharp movement of her hand, she interrupted his attempt to say something. The determination of her entrance caused a slight excitement in him. He felt that this woman knew how to dominate the situation. She looked him in the eyes as she took off her long, black leather coat, and before it slipped to the floor, she pulled something from her pocket that reminded him of a school pointer. He stared at her, transfixed. She was tall, slim, with long, thick, black hair. She stood with her legs slightly apart in a leather bodysuit that took his breath away.

Her breasts popped out from under the coat, challenging him, completely exposed. Tight in the leather bodysuit, cut high on the sides, with openings for her breasts and a slit for her juicy, pink pussy, she provoked him. Her nipples stood out on the round, large globes, and he didn’t dare to move. They hadn’t said anything yet. She dominated him without words, just like he did on stage. She locked the dressing room door, and he stood there, frozen with excitement as his cock grew and throbbed in the too-tight pants for the occasion. That bulge bothered him, and he wanted to free his restrained companion, but he didn’t dare to move. He studied her closely once more. The high boots followed the line of her beautifully shaped legs, and the heels added extra charm to her already long legs. She was beautiful and stood in front of him. And she wasn’t chasing after him, nor screaming for him. No, she was what he wanted, someone who would dominate him and conquer him.

She put the pointer in her mouth and touched her breasts with her hands, gently caressing them and touching her nipples. She moistened her fingers with saliva and continued to touch her breasts. She stroked her body tightly fitted in leather gear and reached the slit from which her pussy peeked out. It was covered in dark, short-trimmed hair. When she opened the slit, delicate, pink, wet flesh appeared. She touched her clitoris with her finger and let out a soft moan. His head was spinning. He wanted to kneel before her, crawl before her, do whatever she asked, but she hadn’t said anything yet. This agony had to stop or at least she should ease it a little.

- Come here - she said in a hoarse voice. - On your knees.
He knelt and crawled to her. With adoration, he raised his hands towards her body and touched her breasts. He felt the touch of the pointer on his back.
- I didn’t allow you to do that - she warned him. - Kiss my feet, as a punishment.
He obediently complied, and she praised him.
- Kiss me from head to toe - she added.

He started from the boots, covering the black leather with his wet kisses. Over the edge of the boots, he reached the smooth, soft skin that was warm and supple. He kissed her thighs, buttocks, pussy as much as he could, and moved to the upper part. He reached her breasts and took a globe in his mouth, sucking on her nipple. She stood there enjoying watching him crawl over her. He repeated this on the other globe of her breasts and just as he was about to kiss her neck, she pushed him away. He stumbled and almost fell. He thought he would cry. He was so excited.

- Now take it off - she said. - Take everything off slowly, like a stripper.
He slowly took off his shirt, trying to imitate strippers, but he wasn’t skilled at it, so he earned her disapproval and a tap with the pointer. He felt his bare skin tingling and burning. He wanted to take off his pants as quickly as possible because his cock was already seriously suffering, trapped and restrained. Still, he slowly unbuttoned his pants, gently swaying to the rhythm of imagined music. He lowered his pants to his ankles and freed his legs. He put his hands in his underwear and tore them off in one motion. She liked it, but said nothing. He stood before her naked and ready. She stood too, watching him and tapping the pointer on her palm. He was drooling and following her graceful movements.

- Kneel - she commanded. She approached him, slightly spreading her legs and giving him a view of her pink crotch. - Cheer me up - she said simply.

He ran his tongue over her slit. It was wonderful to feel her scent and pungent taste. He licked her at first with gentle, long strokes, and with every prompt from her, which was a tap of her finger on his back, he increased the rhythm. He pushed his tongue into her pussy, wet and juicy, holding her legs with his hands. Her knees buckled and she moaned softly. He moaned too, his tongue deeply embedded in her interior. Suddenly his tongue was left dry, she pulled away and bent over in front of him. The view was stunning. Two firm globes and a black hole between them, all just for him.

- Continue - she looked at him through the narrow space between her legs.
He grabbed her buttocks and sank back into the hot center, squeezing her buttocks with his hands while pleasure overwhelmed her. He moistened a finger and ran it over her clitoris, earning a sharp slap on his fingers. His cock was bouncing and going crazy from helplessness. He wanted to take it in his hand, caress it a little, give it hope, but she preempted him with another slap on his hand. He was powerless, and it drove him mad, and she was able to predict every move he made. She moved away from him again, watching him kneel, seeing him powerless, miserable, and ready for her every gesture.
- Give a little, crawl around the room - she ordered.

Obediently, on his knees, he started along the room, looking at the unknown beauty with adoration, while his cock stood out between his legs and swung with every movement. At the tip of the shiny and firm, large spear, transparent drops appeared.

- Now, pray a little for what you want - she said to him. - Pray for what you would like to do, for what you want me to do to you. Maybe I’ll take pity on you and do something about it.
She challenged him, not looking at all ready to fulfill any of his wishes.
- I would like you to take my cock in your hands, to jerk it, then take it in your mouth and suck and bite it - he said in a pleading voice, embarrassed and not daring to look her in the eyes.
- You want a lot, but I’m not sure you deserve anything of it.
- Please, take it or let me take it myself - he whined.
- Yes, you can do that, but you must not dare to cum until I allow you to.

Almost with relief, he took his own cock in his hand and started to work on it because he thought he would burst. And indeed, he didn’t dare to do anything more than what she approved. She stared at him intently. She approached him and knelt before him. Without moving his hand, she took his cock in her mouth and gently squeezed it.
- Watch how you behave, you must not cum - she reminded him. She worked on him with her tongue, pulling him into herself, following the rhythm of his hand. He stopped because he could no longer go further; he would cum. She realized he was on the edge, but she didn’t stop, driving him mad and torturing him.
- Please let me cum, please I can’t take it anymore - he was on the brink.
She stopped and looked piercingly into his eyes, then turned around and bent over again.
- Fuck me!

He plunged into her, immersing himself in her warmth, feeling the waves of orgasm approaching. He thrust into her, desperately trying to stop the impending climax. He felt she was moving with him, and he welcomed her consent.
- Make me cum, then you can too!
He fucked her, thrusting all the way, and when he felt her orgasm, long and liberating, he let the pleasure of the explosion wash over him and felt her fill him, and finally the tension and irritation faded. She stood up as his sperm dripped down her perfect legs, put on her coat, waved goodbye to him, and left the dressing room.

Later, when he collected himself, he wasn’t sure if it had really happened. He felt the trace of the pointer on his back under his fingers. If it weren’t for that and the pointer that lay on the carpet like a beautiful memory, he would think it was all just a product of his vivid imagination.

The next day he received Myra’s telegram "Happy Birthday! I hope you satisfied her? And she you, of course!"
Myra, I love you, he thought with a smile on his lips.