Jungwoo

Role-playing is more than acting out your fantasies.

It's a doorway into your mind—a test of trust where you hand your partner a spare key, hoping they'll accept you as you are while you both travel the erotic paths of the scenario you've chosen to play.

It's an exercise in both mutual respect and defiance. You push each other's limits while honoring boundaries.

Whenever I've role-played with partners—whether or not they were versed in the BDSM world—I've always enforced a golden rule: neither of us would hold back from voicing what we needed. As long as we agreed on the lines not to cross, we could simply enjoy the moment to its full potential.

I wait patiently for Minsu to return. I haven't moved from my kneeling position on the kitchen floor.

When she finally reappears, her movements are as measured as a panther stalking its prey. She has traded her clothes for a floor-length robe made of sheer mesh fabric. The wide sleeves and hem are embellished with marabou feathers.

She's a vision of absolute sensuality and authority.

Beneath the robe, Minsu wears a red lace bra, matching panties, and a garter belt attached to fishnet stockings. Her feet are clad in six-inch platform stiletto sandals, the crisscrossing straps over her toes secured with a delicate ribbon around her ankles.

I already have visions of those heels pressing into my body, and a distinctive part of my anatomy reacts.

My senses heighten as Minsu approaches—my hands craving to explore every inch of her luscious body, my tongue thirsting for the taste of her desire. My eyes burn with the flame she ignites just by existing, while her perfume wraps around me like a tender caress.

She brought accessories: red fluffy handcuffs, a black feather crop, and a leather collar with a chain leash. Setting the first two on the table as she passes, she joins me with the latter.

Our eyes lock as Minsu secures the collar around my neck. Once fastened, she slides two fingers beneath the leather band, ensuring it's not too tight, before looping her fingers through the attached chain.

When she stands, I witness the exact moment she steps into her dominant headspace. The shift is both subtle and dramatic—especially in her eyes—and it makes me gulp.

She tugs the chain lightly to test it, and my body instinctively moves forward. Seemingly satisfied, Minsu speaks in a tone smokier than usual, thick with the promise of my unwavering submission.

"Safe words?" she asks. We had chosen them earlier, so she's merely checking that I remember.

"Pineapple," I reply. That one means full stop. My distaste for the acidic fruit is so virulent that even thinking about it makes me want to gag.

I also repeat the other safe words we agreed upon, which signify, Give me time to adjust, but don't stop.

"On your feet," Minsu orders. "Follow me."

I fall in step behind her, unable to help admiring the way the silver chain of my collar arcs between us, linking me to her wrist.

"How are your baking skills?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder.

"Satisfactory." The lie slips out easily, accompanied by an innocent smile.

Minsu arches an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"We'll see about that."

She moves around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and handing them to me to carry to the counter. My arms fill quickly, and I have to be careful not to drop anything.

Her heels click-clack against the marble floor as she strolls, her wrist occasionally tugging on my leash as we move from cabinets to drawers, collecting bowls, a hand mixer, and various spoons. I start to suspect she doesn't even need all these utensils—that she's only making me fetch them so she can enjoy walking me around like a dog.

Once satisfied, Minsu finally allows me to set everything down on the kitchen island, where she hoists herself up, sitting cross-legged.

I stand in silence as her gaze rakes over my body, contemplative.

"Lose the shirt."

I obey, unbuttoning my black button-down under her scrutiny. I place it on the counter, noting the way her gaze darkens as she takes in the hard ridges of my abs.

"Like what you see?" I ask smugly.

Minsu raises the crop and slaps it against my right pectoral, making me whimper—a sound no woman has ever pulled from me before.

"I'd like it better if you kept that pretty mouth shut unless spoken to. Do you understand?"

She tilts my chin up with the crop.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," I correct, but she still doesn't look satisfied.

Minsu wraps the chain around her arm and yanks it, jerking my body forward. My face hovers just above hers, my hand brushing against her fishnet-clad thigh.

"Try again," she orders.

This is the perfect opportunity to mess with her.

"Yes, milady?" I taunt.

Another sharp slap of the crop—this time against my abdomen.

"Again."

"Yes, Mistress?"

The crop cracks hard in the crease of my V-line. My hips jolt forward on instinct, pressing my groin against her calf. I expect her to push me away, but she only watches, amused, as I rut against her leg.

"Close, but no."

I know what she wants me to say. I've been calling her Stepmother to provoke her, and we both know she secretly enjoys it. There's only one step left to take.

Leaning down, I bring my mouth to her ear.

"Yes, Mommy?"

Her reaction is immediate. A shiver courses through her body. Just as I expected, she doesn't swing the crop this time.

Instead, her nails hook through my belt loops, dragging me between her parted legs. Her palm slides to the front of my trousers, grazing my semi-hard length.

"Will you be a good little dog and do as I say?" she murmurs, her hand beginning a slow, torturous movement.

She applies just enough pressure to tease me—to make me crave more. I'm not so far gone that I'll start begging... but damn.

Minsu tugs my collar sharply.

"Yes, Mommy," I repeat, thrusting against her palm. "I'll be a good boy. I promise."

Minsu pulls my chain until my mouth is close enough to hers to start kissing me. She leads the way, her tongue pushing against mine as she maintains a firm grip on the restraint around my neck. As our makeout session gradually intensifies, I become intoxicated with the primal need to fuse with her body until I don't know where mine begins and hers ends.

I know I just promised to be a good boy, but I can't resist the urge to be bad for a few seconds. I move Minsu's hand away from my groin and drag her body across the counter until her ass is right at the edge.

I know she approves when her legs wrap around my waist. Dry-humping my stepfather's wife on their kitchen counter sounds like the typical wet dream of any hormonal teenage boy. Perhaps it's the deliciously forbidden nature of our little escapade that makes it all the more delectable.

I continue kissing her neck as she rolls her hips against mine until she decides we've had enough fun for now and snaps me back to reality with a clack of the crop on my shoulder.

I can see that she has fully regained control of herself. For the next fifteen minutes, she gives me baking instructions that I execute. Apparently, I'm making cupcakes. When I mess up Minsu's orders, she punishes me with the crop, but when I execute them flawlessly, she rewards me by putting some whipped cream on a part of her body and allowing me to lick it off.

When the oven timer goes off, Minsu steps down to retrieve the baked goods. I know the next step is icing the cupcakes, so this is the perfect opportunity to get on her nerves just a little. I wait until Minsu bends over to take out the trays with her oven mitts on, then I hide the whipped cream can in the cabinet overhead. Luckily, my chain is long enough that she won't suspect I'm moving behind her.

As soon as Minsu gets back to the counter with a tray of a dozen yellow-glazed cupcakes, she notices the missing can and turns to me with a lethal glare.

"Where is it?" she asks in a warning tone.

"Where's what?"

"Don't act cute. Give it to me."

I smile cockily when I hear her slip. "So you think I'm cute?"

She yanks me toward her with the chain, bringing our bodies so close that she has to lift her head to look at me.

"It's my fault for letting you stand up," Minsu says. "You'll be kneeling from now on."

I fall to my knees obediently. Minsu opens other drawers and takes out two more flavors of whipped cream. My little prank was useless—she had backups.

As she begins icing the cupcakes, Minsu makes it clear that I'm not allowed to put my hands on her while she's working. But she never mentioned anything about my mouth.

The lace fabric of the garter around her thigh seems particularly tempting. I start peppering little kisses around her skin, giddy that she hasn't stopped me yet.

Then, suddenly, her thigh vanishes, and my lips are left kissing the air. I open my eyes to see her hand lowered in front of my face. She's holding a sealed plastic bowl of red glacé cherries.

"Since you need to make your mouth useful, open this."

I plant my palms on the ground for leverage and use my front teeth to push up the plastic lid. Once it lifts, Minsu takes it away. The task isn't done yet, though; a thin film sheet remains, sealing the container. This one might be more difficult, but she strengthens her grip around the bowl to keep it from wobbling. After a few failed attempts, I finally succeed.

"Good boy," Minsu compliments, petting my hair with her free hand.

She allows me to stand back up, and I wash my hands to help her.

"I'll only show you the piping technique once, so pay attention."

She grabs the piping bag filled with pink buttercream and pushes down slowly over a cupcake, moving her hand in a circular motion to create a perfect swirl.

When my turn comes, I mess up on the first try. Minsu grabs the crop that's been patiently sitting on the counter, waiting for the perfect opportunity to exact punishment. This time, she orders me to remove my black trousers but keep my underwear.

"Knees," she commands, and I resume my position.

She wraps her fingers around the chain linked to the collar, exposing my throat even more. With the tip of the crop, she drags from my lips down my Adam's apple.

Minsu lifts her leg, placing her red heel on my stomach right between my pecs, and I lower my face to kiss the red veneer of her sandals.

"I changed my mind," she declares. "Lie down. Hands behind your head."

Now, lying on the cold floor with nothing but my trunks and a collar around my neck, the vision of Minsu standing over me—clad in red lingerie, six-inch stilettos, and a crop in her hand—is sure to star in my dreams for many nights to come.

Minsu presses one heel lightly against my stomach, the pointy stiletto digging into my skin, fueling the fire burning in my veins. She orders me to take off her sandals one after the other, and my excitement grows because it can only mean one thing.

Minsu begins by trailing her toes along my thigh, purposely ignoring my erection. I try, not-so-subtly, to wriggle my pelvis, seeking friction, but it's no use.

"Are you okay?" Minsu asks mockingly. "You're squirming."

"You're not touching me," I whine shamelessly.

She chuckles at my obvious irritation. "What have you done to deserve it?" She punctuates her question with a resounding slap of the crop on my thigh, dangerously close to my groin.

My hips push forward instinctively as a primal grunt rises from my throat.

"I did everything you asked," I retort.

"But you made mistakes."

"Please," I beg, "just once."

"Aren't you a cute little one?" Minsu coos.

Her foot finally presses against the fabric of my underwear. When she uses the arch of her foot to rub my hard-on, every muscle in my legs tenses up.

"Fuck, yes..." I moan. Watching her step on me is almost as pleasurable as the act itself.

"You finally stopped whining like a little bitch," Minsu teases.

"Harder, please."

My request earns me three consecutive whacks, each harder than the last.

"Don't make demands," Minsu scolds.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," I apologize, my breath shuddering under the mix of pain from the crop and the pleasure from Minsu's foot.

Despite her reprimand, she presses down harder on the ball of her foot, using her toes to slightly drag down the waistband of my underwear, partially uncovering my erection. Her toenails scrape over the exposed veins of my cock.

Shit. I'm gonna lose my fucking mind.

"You like that, huh?" Her condescending tone is the cherry on top.

"Yes, fuck, yes!"

"I'm gonna stop," she warns, and I frantically shake my head.

"No, please, Mommy, don't stop. I'll be good."

I don't know what I'm saying anymore. I just know I want her to keep doing what she's doing.

"That's enough."

She withdraws her foot. It takes every ounce of self-restraint I have not to thrash like a brat.

Minsu orders me to stand up and follow her to the counter, where she hoists herself up again.

"Since you handled your punishment nicely, I'll give you a treat," she declares, then places a can of whipped cream in my hand. "I'll guide you."

Minsu leans back on one hand, opening her legs wide enough for me to step in. With the crop, she indicates where I'm allowed to feast on her.

She hooks it between her bra, pushing down the fabric until she exposes one perfectly round breast. I waste no time. I drizzle a curved line of cream along her skin, tracing the path my mouth will soon follow.

We lock eyes as I lower my face, ready to begin tasting.

"Enjoy your dessert," Minsu says coyly.

"I fully intend to."

My tongue follows the white trail, sucking and nibbling until I dedicate my attention to her nipple, teasing it in slow circles. I give the same devotion to both breasts, kissing and sucking until her hard buds stand erect.

Minsu tugs on my chain, bringing my face closer to hers. She captures my lips in a passionate kiss, our tongues tangling, pushing and thrusting, hunger simmering between us like static electricity.

Her nails dig into my neck as she grips me tighter, her legs locking around me. At this point, we're devouring each other. Our bodies flush together, her bare breasts pressed against my chest, sending my blood rushing straight to my cock.

When Minsu finally breaks the kiss, the tasting continues, but this time, there's no whipped cream involved.

She makes me step back and watch as she drags the crop between her legs over her panties. My erection strains harder against my trunks as I watch her stimulate herself.

Her eyes close, her head tilts back, and she slides the tip of the crop beneath the fabric to rub her clitoris. Delicious sounds of pleasure fly out of her lips as she teases herself.

It kills me that she hasn't called me over yet, but I know she's dragging it out to torture me.

When I'm finally allowed to join, I take my time pulling down her underwear. The crop is forgotten. I stand before her, admiring how wet she is.

I dive in slowly, kissing her inner thighs, ignoring where she needs me most, until she forcefully grabs my head and puts my face exactly where she wants it.

"Don't play games, boy," she orders.

I dutifully oblige.

My lips move against her, tongue sliding over her wetness, circling her clit before I lick all the way down to her entrance, where she's hot and needy. I thrust my tongue inside.

Her hips jerk off the table.

"Hm... yes!" she gasps.

I alternate between probing her opening and returning to her clit, sucking and stroking her slick folds. I decide not to use my fingers, only my mouth, intent on getting her off this way. The closer she gets to her climax, the harder her thighs lock around my face, caging me in absolute bliss.

She tightens her grip on my head as she begins to grind against my mouth, riding my tongue until she finally reaches the peak of pleasure and falls over the edge.

Minsu's orgasm shakes her body in little spasms. I keep sucking until she tugs on my collar, making me back off.

When she gets off the table, Minsu removes my collar. She orders me to stand under the sculpture floor lamp in the corner of the room, a striking seven-foot piece depicting a bald female silhouette arched backward, arms crossed over her shoulders, supporting a luminous globe.

Minsu lifts my hands, securing them with the handcuffs in the empty space between the sculpture's elbows. My pulse quickens in anticipation as she finally lowers my trunks, freeing my aching erection.

She strolls lazily to the fridge. I admire the shape of her ass beneath the sheer red fabric of her robe.

Minsu returns with an apple, biting into it, chewing thoughtfully as her gaze rakes over my naked body. Dragging a chair in front of me, she sits down, watching with an air of pure disinterest.

For a moment, she does nothing but observe me. I stand there, hard and desperate, every muscle alert with anticipation.

Then she stands, placing the remnants of the apple in my mouth as a makeshift gag.

Kneeling before me, she looks up, and I have to resist the urge to thrust forward.

"Every time you move, I'll hit you harder. Do you understand?"

I try to say "Yes," but with the apple in my mouth, it comes out garbled.

She begins to tease me, taking just the tip of my cock into her mouth, sucking it in like a lollipop. The craving is unbearable, and before I can stop myself, I thrust forward.

The crack of the crop on my ass is immediate. The sting is bittersweet. I let out a deep moan.

Minsu hasn't lost her momentum. She keeps sucking me off, bobbing her head, taking in the girth I've added—but not going any further. And then it clicks.  

She's not trying to keep me immobile. She wants me to lose control, to fuck her mouth, so she can use the crop on me however she pleases.  

My pain tolerance is high enough, so I meet her head movements with my own thrusts. Even with my range limited by the handcuffs, I manage to match her rhythm. The synchronized slaps of the crop with each push forward only heighten the sensation of sliding into her wet mouth.  

Soon, I'm a whimpering mess, saliva dripping from the corner of my lips as I forcibly keep my mouth open, biting down on the apple.  

Minsu looks up at me with a sexy, mischievous gaze before hollowing her cheeks to deep-throat me. My soul damn near leaves my body when my tip hits the back of her throat. My body shudders violently. I yank on the handcuffs, desperate to free myself.  

The apple tumbles from my mouth, rolling across the floor—just in time for the sluttiest moan ever to slip past my lips.  

"Fuuuck!"  

I can feel it coming. My orgasm is near—this one's going to be violent. If Minsu keeps this rhythm, just like this, yes—  

"I'm gonna—"  

What the fuck?  

Minsu stands up, licking her lips with an innocent expression that I know is anything but. She takes a few steps back, watching me with a satisfied glint in her eyes, her gaze locked on my throbbing dick, glistening with her saliva.  

It dawns on me.  

This is her revenge. I denied her orgasm over a week ago, now she's denying mine.

"Don't do this," I growl, pulling on the handcuffs to no avail.  

"I'm not doing anything. Precisely." Her cunning smile sends a shiver down my spine.  

No, no, no, no.  

She can't leave me like this.  

"I said I'd be good," I plead, my voice raw.  

"Aw, are you going to cry?" Minsu tuts mockingly. And fuck me, I'm both turned on and frustrated beyond reason.  

"I'll do anything you want. Please. Let me come. Please."  

When Minsu steps closer, hope flares in my chest—but she simply places the key to the handcuffs in my palm. Leaning in, she stops just short of my lips.  

"Tell you what," she whispers. "If you can free yourself, you can fuck me as many times as you want before the sun rises."  

My eyes snap to the big clock hanging on the opposite wall. It's already close to four a.m.  

Minsu leaves the kitchen. I get to work. It's going to be hard, but not impossible.  

Challenge fucking accepted.