In the dimly lit, digital realm of a specialized fetish website, where desires as vast as the universe intertwined and collided, a curious encounter unfolded. Cerci, an enigmatic 7-foot-tall goddess with curves that defied gravity and a gaze that could melt the coldest of hearts, locked eyes with Klyde, a 5-foot-tall man whose spirit was as boundless as his physical frame was compact. The electricity of anticipation crackled through the pixels of their virtual meeting place as they exchanged messages, each one more daring and explicit than the last. Cerci revealed her intention to treat Klyde’s body as her personal playground, a mere sex toy to be used and discarded at her whims. Despite his diminutive stature, Klyde’s response was a fervent agreement, his excitement palpable through the digital divide.
Their meeting was set in a luxurious hotel suite, a sanctum of velvet and leather that whispered of illicit pleasures and the sweet scent of submission. As the door clicked shut behind Klyde, he found himself face to face with the towering beauty. Cerci’s smile was predatory, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt, and she stepped closer, her stiletto heels echoing through the room like the beat of a sinister heart. He took in her form, a symphony of dominance wrapped in the guise of a woman, and his knees grew weak with the knowledge that he was about to become the instrument of her pleasure. She looked down at him, a gleeful twinkle in her eye, and without a word, she reached out and grabbed his neck, pulling him closer until their lips met in a fiery kiss that left him breathless.
Their initial embrace was a dance of power and lust, with Cerci guiding the short-statured Klyde through a maelstrom of sensations. Her tongue, skilled and demanding, explored every corner of his mouth as her hands roamed his body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Klyde’s hands trembled as he reached up to touch her, but she swatted them away, making it clear that she was in control. He could feel her strength, a stark contrast to his own, and it sent waves of arousal crashing through his veins. He knew he was about to experience something he had only ever fantasized about in his wildest dreams.
With a flick of her wrist, Cerci produced a set of gleaming handcuffs, and before Klyde could react, she had secured his wrists to the bedpost, his arms stretched taut and his body vulnerable. She stepped back and surveyed her work, her smile widening as she took in his trembling form. He watched as she began to undress, her clothes falling away to reveal a landscape of skin and curves that seemed to go on forever. Each inch of her that was exposed was met with a gasp of awe from him, and she reveled in his worshipful gaze, feeding off the energy of his desire.
The first touch was a gentle caress, her fingernails lightly tracing the outline of his cock through his pants. It grew hard and strained against the fabric, begging for her touch. But Cerci was in no hurry. She enjoyed the tease, watching Klyde squirm and bite his lip to hold back his pleas. With a smirk, she finally unzipped him, her soft hand wrapping around his shaft and stroking it with the perfect amount of pressure. His eyes rolled back, and he let out a moan that was music to her ears. She leaned in and whispered, “You’re mine now,” as she began to explore his body with a hunger that could not be sated.
The night grew darker and their passions wilder as Cerci dominated Klyde with a masterful finesse. She took him to the brink of ecstasy, only to pull back, leaving him gasping for more. Her height allowed her to look down upon him with a sense of superiority that made him feel small and utterly at her mercy. He was a mere mortal in the presence of a sex goddess, and he reveled in his role as her devoted servant. She played with him, her long legs wrapping around his body, her feet teasing his face as she held him in place.
Her touch grew more insistent, her strokes more demanding, as she worked Klyde’s cock like a maestro conducting an orchestra of pleasure. With a flick of her thumb, she flipped the switch, sending him spiraling into an orgasm so intense that his entire body spasmed and convulsed. Yet she didn’t stop, her grip unyielding, her strokes unrelenting, pushing him past his limits until he was nothing but a quivering mess of nerves and ecstasy. She watched with sadistic pleasure as he begged for mercy, his voice hoarse from screaming out her name. But mercy was not in her vocabulary tonight.
Cerci’s attentions shifted to his tight, pink asshole, which she began to massage with a slickened finger. The sensation was alien, yet it sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body. He felt the pressure build, his muscles clenching around her digit as she penetrated him, inch by inch, stretching him open. She added a second finger, then a third, all the while keeping her eyes locked on his, watching his pupils dilate with every stroke. His whimpers grew louder, his body tensing, as she prepared him for what was to come. He knew this was just the beginning of her conquest, and the thrill of the unknown had him on the edge of insanity.
Withdrawing her fingers, she reached for the strap-on she had brought with her, a monstrous silicone phallus that gleamed in the low light. Klyde’s eyes widened at the sight of it, a mix of fear and excitement playing across his features. Cerci chuckled, strapping it on with an air of confidence that only served to excite him further. She straddled him, the tip of her new appendage teasing his hole as she positioned herself for the ultimate invasion. He braced himself, feeling the head of the strap-on press against him, and with one swift, powerful thrust, she claimed him, filling him completely.
The initial pain was swiftly replaced by a deep, all-consuming pleasure that washed over him in waves. Cerci’s hips rocked back and forth in a rhythm that grew steadier and more intense with each passing moment. Klyde’s cries grew more desperate, his body arching off the bed as she fucked him mercilessly. His cock, still erect despite his exhaustion, was slapped by her pendulous breasts with every thrust, adding to the symphony of sensations that threatened to overwhelm him. Her eyes bore into his, and he could see the hunger in her gaze, the need for his absolute surrender. And as she reached down to squeeze his balls, the pressure building within him once more, he realized that he had never felt more alive, more alive than in this moment of complete and utter submission to her will.
As if reading his thoughts, Cerci leaned down and whispered in his ear, “You’re going to cum for me again, aren’t you?” Her breath was hot, her voice a siren’s call that he couldn’t resist. He nodded frantically, his eyes rolling back as she increased her pace, her cock pistoning in and out of him with a ferocity that was almost terrifying in its intensity. She played his body like a fiddle, her movements precise and calculated, each touch, each stroke pushing him closer to the edge of the abyss. And when he finally did cum, it was with a force that left him gasping, his body shaking uncontrollably as ropes of white-hot pleasure shot through him.
But even as he lay there, panting and spent, Cerci wasn’t finished with him. She removed the strap-on, tossing it aside with a clatter, and climbed off the bed. He watched her, his eyes glazed with lust, as she disappeared into the en suite bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. When she returned, she was holding a wet cloth that she used to clean him up, her touch surprisingly gentle after the rough treatment his body had just endured. “You’ve done well,” she murmured, “but I’m not quite finished with you yet.”
The next phase of their encounter began with a simple command: “On your knees.” Klyde complied without hesitation, his legs trembling as he knelt before her. She stepped closer, her pussy mere inches from his face, and he could smell her arousal, sweet and musky. With a flick of her wrist, she produced a leash attached to a collar that she fastened around his neck. “You’re going to worship me now,” she said, her voice a low purr that sent shivers down his spine. And so he did, his tongue eagerly lapping at her folds, tasting the essence of his dominatrix. She guided his head, her hands tangled in his hair, dictating the pace and pressure of his ministrations.
Her hips began to buck, her legs quivering, and Klyde knew that she was close. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deeper, his nose pressing against her clit as he sought to give her the same mind-shattering release that she had given him. And when she came, it was with a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the hotel. Her juices coated his face, and he drank them in, feeling a sense of pride that he had been able to pleasure such an untouchable goddess.
As she stepped back, her chest heaving, she regarded him with a look that was a mix of amusement and satisfaction. “You’re a good little toy,” she said, her voice a little softer now. “But even the best toys get boring after a while.” With a final, almost affectionate pat on the head, she released him from his bonds. “I think it’s time for a pizza,” she announced, her voice returning to its normal, casual tone.
Klyde lay there, panting and spent, watching as Cerci pulled out her phone and dialed room service. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, a strange emptiness that filled him now that the storm of passion had passed. But as he heard the dull throb of blood in his ears, the lingering ache of his used body, and the echo of her laughter, he knew that he would carry the memory of this night with him forever, a secret treasure to be savored in the quiet moments of his life.
The pizza arrived, and Cerci took a large bite, her eyes never leaving Klyde’s. He felt a thrill at being the center of her attention, even in his exhaion. She offered him a piece, and as he took it from her hand, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt through his system. He knew that this was just a temporary reprieve, that she would use him again, and again, until she was sated. But for now, he was content to lie there, watching her eat, basking in the afterglow of his submission and the promise of more to come.
Sex is like Pizza- even if its with a midget sub, its still pretty good!
Lucy Lu
