Her text had been cryptic, and he revisited it once he parked the car. The rain outside pounded on the roof and the windshield and it was so dark and the windows were so obscured with raindrops, he was tempted to unzip and touch himself right then and there. He resisted.

Let yourself in. Undress, put on what I have left out for you and find me in the bedroom xo

He chewed back a couple of mints, checked his hair in the rearview mirror and dashed from vehicle to front porch, taking the stairs two at a time. The door was unlocked and he let himself into her home, the familiar warmth and calm quiet of the space enveloping him. He hung up his jacket and slipped off his shoes, the excitement in his stomach making him feel a bit light headed. He set a stack of cash in the mirrored box on the hall table and took from it the hand written note, no bigger than a business card. His name, a simple thank you, her name; a memento to add to his collection from the previous seven visits.

He undressed, as directed, in the bathroom on the main floor, and looked at what she had left him to wear. He got goosebumps as he touched the leather collar and leash, and examined the steel cage that would soon be locked around his cock. He fumbled with the steel tube and heavy rings, breathing deeply to try to make his body behave and allow his flesh to be contained. Finally outfitted, he passed the loop of the padlock through the clasp and noticing there was no key, left it unlocked. He straightened the collar and clipped on the leash, slightly humiliated already by carrying the handle of his own lead. His heart raced. He had longed for this kind of humiliation and denial. His legs felt like jelly as he climbed the stairs.

The hall was dark except for an amber glow coming from her bedroom and he drifted towards it, as if in a dream, a steelbound moth to her flickering flame. He stopped at the open door and knelt, awaiting permission. With just a “yes” from her he lifted his eyes and saw her sitting crosslegged at the end of the bed, heavenly and commanding in a black lace robe. The cedar chest that sat at the foot of the bed, the one he longed to be locked inside, had three candles sitting on it making a fiery boundary between them. It wasn’t until he walked towards her that he noticed the sizable dildo on the floor, a monolith of silicone no doubt awaiting his body and her instructions. She patted the bed beside her and he went to her, kneeling at the side of the bed and presenting her the leash. She smiled as he kissed her feet and she wrapped the leash around her hand, shortening it and pulling him up towards her to kiss him. She produced a small silver key and turned it in the padlock, securing his chastity for the evening. She pointed beyond the end of the bed and he took his place, on his knees, the hefty dildo in front of him.

“You look lovely.” her voice was low and quiet. He basked in the velvet tones and smiled.

“Thank you. I feel … lovely.”

She grinned. “Good. I’m glad. Would you like to play a game?”

He nodded, feeling his eyes getting heavy and glassy with desire, his cock pressing and straining against the cage.

“There are three candles here. Each represents a task for you to complete. And when you have completed your tasks, you may have a treat.” As she spoke, she leaned back on her elbows and let her thighs fall away from one another so he could gaze into her beautiful vulva, spreading her lips gently with her fingers, the wetness glimmering in the candle light.

Masturbation Monday week 255 prompt is Marie Rebelle with three candles illuminating her vulva
Image originally published as Flames of Love by Marie Rebelle and used with permission.

“First, show me how wet and slick you can get that big rubber cock with your dirty slut mouth.” She yanked on the leash and he pitched forward, hands landing on the floor on either side of the base of the dildo.

“Yes Goddess. Thank you.”

He took the head into his mouth and began to suck and lick it. He had barely started when he heard her moan and looked up from the floor to see her fingering herself, robe open, teasing him. He choked and gagged and forced his mouth to fit down over the shaft until his lips were pressed against the balls of the dildo. He bobbed his face up and down over the thick shaft, taking it hard in the back of his throat, eyes watering.

“Good boy.” she leaned forward and using her pussy-wet fingers, pinched the wick of the first candle, the flame sizzling and going out. “Now take in in your ass. All of it.”

He blushed and leaned forward as she tugged the leash again, pulled closer to her, kneeling over the mighty floor cock, his own phallus useless and ignored in its steel suit. Her hand once again became a blur between her legs as she furiously masturbated before him. Eyes locked with hers he sat down over the stiff dildo and felt it begin to enter him. His spit was only barely enough lubrication and he winced and whimpered as he took it, inch by slow and intense inch until it had disappeared beneath him. He was sweating, his cock dribbling precum in glossy strands, but he sat, triumphant at the end of her taut leash, cheeks flared to accommodate the massive girth of the dildo. She was edging herself slowly as he watched, captivated, squirming as she licked her fingers, sucking her wetness from them luxuriantly, and then snuffing the second candle. His eyes grew wide in anticipation of the third task.

“Now, for the third task, I want you to cum.”

He looked up at her, confused.

“But ….”

“But what? You’re perfectly capable of orgasming from riding a cock. I’ve seen you do it. I’ve made you do it.”

“But I’m locked … I can’t touch.”


“Yes, Goddess.”

She smiled and spread her legs again, the folds of her cunt glistening in the candle light and his cock lurched, rattling the lock against the metal housing.

“Hands behind your head.”

“But …!”

She yanked the leash again and he groaned as the dildo deep inside him pressed into his prostate. He laced his fingers together behind his neck, already anxious at the fatigue his shoulders would feel in just a few minutes.

“Focus.” she drawled, her hand lazily petting her wet snatch.

And so he bounced and wiggled and thrust down until his bulge was aching and his balls felt fit to burst, and the white hot pulse behind the root of his cock was a solid hum.

“I’m so close, Goddess ….”

“Good. Just let it flow out for me. Show me what a pretty puddle you can make.”

He grimaced and bucked his hips, whimpering in frustration as he milked himself, his cock feeling nothing but the force of the ejaculation, his body wet with sweat, chest heaving, his shoulders hot and tight. Still impaled, she pulled him forward, allowing his hands to meet the floor and led him closer until his knees touched the cedar chest. The last candle, still lit in front of her plumped mound, flickered in the breeze of his exhalation. Her hands cupped his face and he could smell her sweet saltiness as her thumbs brushed across his lips. He looked up at her, pupils huge and inky in the candlelight. She smiled.

“Blow it out, baby. You’ve earned your treat.”


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Violet Fawkes

Violet Fawkes (she/her) is a freelance writer and sex blogger focusing on pleasure education, erotic fiction, and the intersection of identity, kink and mental health.