Hello again, my lovely little bitch boy. It’s been a while since Miss Rhiannon has come to play. Did you miss me, my precious little bitch? I knew you would, and I have the perfect sort of play for us to indulge in: I want to use you. Yes, I absolutely do! How will I use you? That’s a perfectly understandable question, and the answer is: however the fuck I want. So, buckle up because Miss Rhiannon is about to make her little bitch her favorite piece of furniture.
Welcome back to my lair, er, home. It seems bare, doesn’t it? No tables or chairs. Nowhere to sit, really. It’s quite odd, because there’s no way anyone could picture me sitting on the floor, being so lowly. Well, do I have a little surprise for you today. I emerge from a bedroom, dressed for the occasion – a vinyl corset, thigh high boots, my hair in a high ponytail to show off my features. You’re still standing in my empty living room, looking around, when you see me.
Our eyes meet for a moment and I smile widely. It’s so wonderful to see you, my bitch! Without any sort of verbal greeting or other acknowledgement, I tell you one simple word, “Strip.” Because you’re my good boy, you comply, pulling your shirt over your head. The pants come next, followed by the underwear, socks, and shoes. While you have little idea of what will happen during our session, you know that we’ve set our ground rules, our safe words, and you trust me completely. Your submission to me has been earned through communication, experimentation, and a lot of work on both our parts.
Now that you are completely naked before me, I walk towards you and place your chin in my cupped hand to admire my bitch. Lovingly, I rake my other set of fingers through your scalp before telling you to get on your hand and knees. Of course you comply. You wouldn’t be my good little bitch boy if you didn’t. Once you’re on the floor, I let in on part of my plan. “Today we find out just how good my bitch boy is,” I coo, staring down at you. “You’re going to be making Miss Rhiannon so very happy today. Yes. You’re going to be her everything. Now, crawl with me to my bedroom.”
I lead the way to my bedroom, and behind me you follow, on all fours. Of course I remind you to be careful as to not get a rug burn. You musn’t damage my property. Once we arrive in my bedroom, I instruct you to remain on all fours in front of my makeup table. It’s littered with cosmetics of all kinds and I very badly need to finish getting ready. My bare hand slaps at your naked ass making a loud clap echo through the bedroom.
“You will do exactly as I say, or you won’t be my good little bitch anymore,” I tell you, before positioning you to be my seat in front of my dressing table. The soft skin of my ass cheeks touch your bare back as I sit on you, and I wriggle a bit, shifting my weight. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a lamp – but it’s a lamp much like you are currently my chair, except the lamp has shapely tits. The shade covers the lamp’s face. What is going on here?
After I painstakingly apply my cosmetics, using you as my chair, I stand. With a waggle of my index finger, I beckon to you to follow me, still crawling. When we arrive back into my living and dining room, you notice that there is now a table. It’s not a table in the traditional sense of the term, however. No, it’s a table like you’re a chair, and like the lady in my bedroom was a lamp. How curious!
The man-table is set with my lunch as well as a burning candle. Ambiance is everything, after all. “Get closer to my table. Now, bitch,” I tell you as you obediently crawl to be nearer to my table. Again, I use you as my chair. Such a good little chair you are, holding me up on your back as your cock dangles between your legs. You aren’t a fucking man anymore. You’re my chair. An object that belongs only to me, for me to do with as I goddamn well please, and you shouldn’t forget it.
I continue with my routine and eat my lunch, clear my table and kiss it on its head to thank it for a job well done. My belongings are loved and well cared for, especially if they do a good job for me. You will be my prized possession. Something I will use daily for so many things. Doesn’t that sound like a treat? Having my ass on your back, or being used to hold up my feet is your job – your calling – now. Every day you will do what I ask of you, and you will willingly, and lovingly, submit to me.
With a bored sigh, I drag my fingers through your hair and give my new bitch boy chair a little scritch. I’m so horny that I can’t stand it! With a shift of my body, I lie on the floor and use your back to prop my feet up so that they’re elevated. My fingers dance their way down my stomach and to my pussy, spreading the wet folds of my lips so that I may find my clit. From the corner of your eye, you watch as I rub my clit and moan. As I orgasm, my hips buck against the floor, my feet flail on your bare back.
I watch my chair’s cock grow hard and girthy. With that, I sit up and smack my chair’s ass – hard. “Good furniture blends in with the room,” I tell you as I rub the spot that I punished. My bitch, my chair. Mine. Only mine. I give your head a kiss as I get up from the floor, then turn off the light and leave the room.