In case you haven’t figured it out by now (and that little thing in your pants makes it difficult, I know), any woman worth being with has very limited use for a man she’s not sexually interested in. If you persist in your ambitions to get it on with us, we will turn you into either a walking credit card or our personal court jester.
At the moment, my favorite punishment for an inflated ego involves a single grape. I like to start the fun and games by pulling my panties out from under my little dress. Shocked that you’ve gotten that far, you can’t take your eyes from them, dangling from my finger. I smirk, “You want to take them home with you, don’t you.” You gulp. You nod. I pick a fat grape off the bunch in front of us and roll it between my manicured fingertips.
“Take off your clothes – all of them.” You can’t get them off fast enough.
“Kneel.” You sink to your knees. Still fully clothed except for panties, I place the grape on the floor in front of you.
“Now push it down the hall all the way to the front door – with your nose. Don’t try to push it too fast – you’ll get splinters in your chin like the last little fucktoy who followed me home. Now get down on all fours.”
Your barely-average cock beads with pre-cum at the word “fuck” regardless of the context and you bend over to nudge the grape a few inches at a time. I follow a few steps behind as your head bobs and dips – it’s the same motion a head makes when it’s licking dick. *giggle*
Inch by inch you make it the full 20 feet to the front door and stand up with the grape displayed between your teeth and your hands on your bare hips – god, it’s hysterical how hard you’re trying to look sexually enticing.
Your drippy cock and unrealistic expectation that I’ll kiss the dirty grape from your lips have you so worked up that you don’t notice the front door is open. I shove you outside. “But I’m naked!” you whine, dropping the grape.
I toss you the dirty panties and your car keys.
“Wear your prize, fucktoy.”