- This topic has 10 replies, 11 voices, and was last updated 1 month, 1 week ago by
.
-
Posts
-
Coming Home to Cloche
By Dr. Sensitive
Warning: Contains BDSM themes.
Almost home, I wondered if Cloche would remember my instructions: to wear my favorite nursing bra – the one that coddled her breasts so well, a crisp white buttoned-up top, tight pencil skirt, thigh-high hose over heels, and no panties. Also, of course, her collar with the little silver bell that matched the one she wore down below.
Opening the door, I was pleased to see her indeed garbed as told. Cloche was at the door on her knees, palms on the floor, head bowed slightly. I mused for a moment about how skillfully she got down and up in that skirt.
I stroked the top and back of her hair and said “a Big Lebowski, dear” as I walked towards the living room. She levitated up behind me and skipped to the bar. “Oh, and bring the cuffs, too, dear” I said as an afterthought.
She returned to me promptly, bells tinkling slightly, carrying a tray with two sets of cuffs and a glass containing ice, vodka and coffee liquor. She placed the tray nearby and I locked a pair of cuffs around her ankles. These cuffs had a particularly-short chain, and they hobbled her to the point that she could barely walk. I gave her a bear-hug and helped her into a kneeling position. Next, I placed the other cuffs around her wrists, with her arms behind her back.
Thus kneeling before me, I admired her beauty and her figure. She took pride in making sure her makeup and hair was perfect for my arrival, and I swelled with pride over how gorgeous she was.
With her arms pulled back, her breasts strained against her starched white top as if they knew what was coming. I leaned over and started opening the top buttons of her blouse. Slowly, one by one, I revealed more and more of her lovely, full cleavage.
Finally reaching the button at her waist, I pulled her top open, revealing a fancy white nursing bra. I cupped her breasts, still in her bra, feeling their weight. Through the bra, I could tell that her nipples were already hard.
“How long has it been, dear?”
“I pumped 4 hours ago, Sir.”
“That is good, dear.”
I unhooked one of the bra cups and pulled it down. The cup’s interior was damp and I caught a slight whiff of milk. Cupping her heavy bare breast, I gently massaged her stiff nipple with my thumb. It became wet almost immediately.
I picked up the glass and held it to her nipple. Kneading her breast and nipple, small drops began, followed by little squirts, followed by strong sprays. I let go, and aimed the glass to catch her now-continuous streams of milk. A White Russian was The Big Lebowski’s favorite drink, but mine had a particularly-special ingredient!
The streams eventually subsided to large heavy drops, which fell softly into the open bra cup.
Raising the glass to my lips, I unzipped myself, and soon a wonderful velvet warmth enveloped me. Later I would sit her in my lap and nurse from her, and after that the little bells would ring, over and over…
Life with Cloche was good. Very, very good!
Fin. 🙂
Beautiful
@drsensitive
Thank you for another erotic and playful story. 🔥great story! thank you for sharing!
such a good writer, it felt like i was there!
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.