Tipping Point -- Chapter 1: Blow by Blow

He continues to rise up into her hand and fall back down, while gripping the dildo with his anus. The heat's still increasing.

A powerful sensation develops in his balls and penis.
He begs, “My penis...make him cum.”
She grips his penis very tightly. “Ahhhh—ahhhh. It hurts, Mistress.”
“You don't make commands. If you want to make a request, then learn how to make a request like a proper bitch.”
“But...”
“Listen carefully, Lindsay. You are my bitch. I'm gonna dominate, rape, and own you like a whore. If you're lucky, I'll share you with my friends.”
“My penis hurts.” She smiles cruelly.
“You don't have a penis or a cock. You're not a man; you're a bitch. You've got a little weenie.” He flinches at the pain in his little weenie.
“What do you have?” The heat in his anus increases.
“Ahhna”
She squeezes harder. “Say it.”
His voice sounds high-pitched. “A little weenie.”

She relaxes her grip. She strokes his weenie. It becomes harder. The earlier sensation in his balls and weenie returns. He unwillingly clasps down on the rod in his ass. His breathing becomes stronger.
“Are you close?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good.”
“Do it again. Stay up this time.”
He raises up and uses his legs to hold his place by pressing his back against the chair. He feels the width of the dildo's expanded head stretching the entrance to his boy pussy.

“Do not sit down until I say so.”
He doesn't think he can hold himself up for very long, but he doesn't want to say anything. She's strong enough to tear off his little weenie.
She stares at his little weenie while gently stroking its short length. With her free hand she reaches underneath his ass. He hears some clicks and a snap. She retrieves her hand.
“Sit.”

He sits down, or rather, his legs give out. His little balls and weenie settle on his lap.
In one swift motion the dildo's total length re-enters his body. He gasps.
His legs feel weak. His ass feels full.
Her free hand reaches for his chin. She forces him to look into her eyes. Her face has an expression of deep concentration. As if she is peering into a supernova while holding its secrets in her palm, she stares into his eyes and strokes his little weenie.