Saucy Sketch Tuesday #43 (Patreon)

"He's inside, waiting for you, Ma'am," her fixer said, giving a short bow. "I think you'll like him."

"Thank you, Al," she said with a smile. "I'm excited to see what you found for me this time."

Her fixer gave a slight gesture, and his men opened the door for her. She strode inside, her footsteps soft on the expensive carpet.

The room was sparsely furnished, but even so, it maintained an undeniable elegance. Thick velvet curtains were drawn over the windows. Light glowed softly from incandescent bulbs set in gilt fixtures along the cream-colored wall. Overhead hung an electric candelabra; from its gleaming tiered branches dangled strings of glittering crystals. A plush love seat was set against the wall beside a small glass side table. It faced the backless bed that occupied the middle of the room.

And there he was, waiting for her as promised.

Her eyes roved over him, drinking in his features. He was perhaps in his late twenties, but his awkwardness made him seem younger. He sat in a kneeling position, his hands over his knees. He was completely naked save for the collar around his throat and a beautiful pair of gleaming red heels. His eyes were wide as he took her in.

"Hello, Ma'am," he said.

"Hello, darling," she replied. "Are you nervous?"

"No, Ma'am."

He sounded nervous, she thought. She wondered how Al had found him. A little bashfulness was charming, but too many nerves made one stiff and unresponsive to the nuances of the kind of scene she liked to play.

She walked to the glass side table, where there was a bottle of expensive wine and a pair of wine glasses. She uncorked the bottle.

"Would you care for a drink?" she asked, her back turned to him as she poured herself a glass.

"Y-yes, please," he said, and she hid a smile as she poured a second glass. In his relief, he had slipped in his address, but there would be time to reprimand him later. For now, she made her way back to the bed with a glass in each hand and slid onto the mattress beside him.

He took the glass gratefully from her and drank. His eyes widened in surprise.

"That is good wine," he said. "Ma'am."

"Isn't it?" she said pleasantly.

Gently, she placed a hand on his naked thigh. He started, but did not pull away. She moved her hand down his thigh, exploring the give of his skin.

"You shaved for me?" she whispered in a low, crooning voice.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Not that I mind a little hair on my men, but..." Her wandering hand found the soft inside of his thigh. He sat perfectly still, his breath caught. "...you're not exactly a man tonight, are you?"

"No, Ma'am," he managed.

"You're my toy."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She leaned back, withdrawing her hand. She took a sip from her glass. "Now, won't you stand up for me, darling? I'd like to take a good, long look at you."

He obeyed, sliding off the bed and standing up gingerly in his heels. Truth was, she'd already seen enough to determine that he was worth her time tonight. But she enjoyed putting him on the spot, forcing him to navigate the floor in heels he had not yet figured out how to manage. She let him feel the heat of her gaze as her eyes roved from his face down his torso, lingering at the area between his legs. His penis was just beginning to harden; it twitched beneath her slow and measured stare.

"Rather small, isn't it?" she asked neutrally. She was rewarded by the pink flush of mingled embarrassment and indignation that spread across his cheeks.

"It'll get bigger, Ma'am," he said, and she hid a smile.

"Guess we'll just have to see about that," she mused aloud. "It would be such a disappointment to waste my time on a toy that couldn't perform."

He opened his mouth -- to protest, perhaps, or to plead his case -- but she interrupted him. "Turn for me," she commanded. "Slowly."

Flushing harder, he closed his mouth and did as she instructed. She greedily drank in the sight of his naked body, enjoying the way the shadows played over the angles and curves as he moved. Yes, yet again, Al had made a wonderful choice. She looked forward to teaching this man the humiliation and pleasure that awaited a toy like him.