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hissiratelon · 2 months ago

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The Colors of Mars

Bunny

Grok’s Synopsis: A daring newlywed indulges in a steamy weekend with Elon Musk, exploring electric power dynamics and playful intimacy in a luxurious, kinky fanfic. Bunny captures their spicy connection with a tender twist. | Word count: 5k+ Status: complete | two parts | +18 | NSFW | Explicit Sexual Content | All works ©, no reposting.

Bunny

Part 1: His POV

The hotel hallway on the top floor was a minimalist masterpiece—two grand doors, gateways to The Golden Trees’ elite suites. These weren’t just rooms; they were sprawling ecosystems—foyers, business offices, three bathrooms, two bedrooms, a marbled kitchen, a living room cozy enough to crash in after a long day. I knew this place like the back of my hand—stayed here solo plenty of times, plotting world-changing moves, but never with her. Not like this. We’d hit Golden Trees spots worldwide together, this one included, but now? She was mine. Newlyweds. It was a game-changer.

I’d booked both suites for the weekend, told the hotel to lock the floor down. No interruptions. Time with her was rarer than free time to me, and I wanted every second with my wife I could spare.

Still, there I was, outside her door, heart pounding like a drum, gripping red roses like they were my last lifeline. I was buzzing—that adrenaline, same as always before we dove into our little dance. I only had one challenge: make her break character, win the ultimate prize. Two years in, I’d never pulled it off. I hadn’t given much thought to it for a while, then I decided to do something simple, and I wasn’t expecting it to actually work.

A shadow flickered under the door—she was in there, waiting. My chest lit up, even though I was precisely two minutes late. She’d clock it. It didn’t matter. Around her, my chaos settled—she’d been my safe haven since we met. That’s how I reasoned getting engaged and marrying again so fast. After seeing how life could be with her, I couldn’t imagine going back. So I married her. Best decision I’ve ever made.

“How nice of you to show—Oh my, these are gorgeous!” She eased the door open, rocking a short black silk robe, nothing else. Her hair, braided tight earlier when we had dinner, now spilled over her shoulders, framing her chest. Her eyes sparkled with a wide smile blooming; she blushed looking at the flowers. “What are these? Elon, you literally just gave me flowers! You didn’t have to… Where did you even get those at this hour? I swear, I can’t leave you unattended for thirty minutes, and you do something like this!”

“You… broke character! I won?!” I stared at her, grinning, before thrusting the bouquet at her. “I can’t believe it! I bought two sets, stashed one in my suite. I just… First victory, baby!”

“Ah… So, you did… Okay, come in.” She nodded and shrugged as if she didn’t care, but I knew her better. Still blushing, I watched a devious smirk form across her face.

“What was it?”

“The flowers. I thought it was nice you gave me white roses earlier when we had dinner, and now…” She smiled innocently, looking at me with so much love in her eyes I couldn’t imagine existing without her.

“Now the red ones, yeah… Very symbolic, yeah?” I leaned against the doorway, smug as hell.

“Yes, very classy.” She stood opposite, waiting impatiently for me to step in.

Her suite mirrored mine—same luxe setup—but the vibe was electric, charged with her essence. Candles glowed in the foyer, their wax scent mixing with her jasmine perfume, heavy as a summer night. By the window, between two vintage armchairs, a table held a vase, white roses glowing under the moonlight.

“So, reward night, huh?” I clapped, striding toward her as she mixed red roses with white, her fingers moving like she was painting a masterpiece.

That robe—fuck, she was a vision, a siren in silk. I wanted to spin her, smash the vase, take her on that table, her screams drowning out the world. But I wouldn’t dare—not when we were playing that night. I had to be on my best behavior.

“Well?” She turned, sizing me up, her gaze sharp as a blade. “Waiting for something, dear?”

“Double break, double reward?” I edged closer. She rolled her eyes, amused, but I smirked anyway.

“You don’t even know what one win gets you, and you’re angling for two?” Her laugh was low, wicked, a tease laced with danger.

“Reward’s a reward, Miss. Something I want, love, and’ll savor—right?”

“Correct, dear.” Her eyes narrowed—she was tallying my screw-ups, planning how to punish me later. I didn’t give a damn.

“No mind games tonight. I won. I get to cum.” I stood tall, nodding like I’d just closed the deal of a lifetime. Her laughter sliced through as sharp as a razor.

“That’s your reward fantasy?” She stalked me like a panther, gracefully but with a predator’s edge, and I backed up, hitting the armchair, dropping into its leather. She straddled me, her heat searing through the robe over my pants. “You think I’ll let you cum? That’s so cute, baby. That what you’re dreaming of?”

“I’ve earned it, Mistress. Fair’s fair.” My hands slid under her robe, gripping her ass, her skin smooth as silk, hot as a summer blaze; I wanted her so fucking bad.

“Fair?” She snatched my wrists, pinning them to the armrests, her lips grazing my neck, her breath steamy as a Miami night. “Life’s not fair, sweetheart.”

“But I won!” I tugged, but she tightened her grip on my arms, a silent law I couldn’t break.

“You did! Very cute! I’m proud of you, baby!” she said, kissing my face with an overly attentive, sarcastic tone. “But I never promised cumming. You already did this week…”

“Not fair! Monday doesn’t count—I’m trying to keep you barefoot and pregnant, remember?” I tossed out puppy eyes with a smug smile, but she just raised her eyebrow, unimpressed. I threw my head back and let out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m not arguing with you.” She stood, fussing with the flowers again, arranging them with a lover’s care. Even in Mistress mode, she was still one of the kindest souls I’d ever met, even if right now she was thinking of a thousand ways to make me cry, probably.

“So, cum or no cum?” I pressed, her silhouette like a temptress against the candlelight.

“Ask again, and you’ll see.” She slammed the vase down, anger flashing like a thunderstorm. “I wanna be sweet, but you’re asking for it tonight!”

“It’s why you married me.” I knew I was playing with fire, but the burn was my addiction; her flames became my obsession.

“You’re this close to a gag all night.” She leaned against the other chair, smirking, eyes glinting like obsidian stars. “Tempting—I love your muffled whimpers. But tonight, I want you begging for mercy. That’s my kink.”

“I’ll behave. I’ll be your good boy, I promise.” I reached for her hand; she snatched it away, now visibly frustrated.

“Seriously, what are you doing? For real, Elon, what the fuck are you doing? Lounging in that chair like the king of the world? Want me to make you some snacks? Get your computer so you can play Diablo while I suck your dick? Who’s really out of character here, baby?”

Her laugh was dark, venomous, a playful sting, but she was actually annoyed at me, and that cut deep. I shot up, shedding my jacket, realizing what I’d done.

“Too late. Sit. Recap: ten minutes here, two late, demanding orgasms, sassing me, still dressed, and a total pain in my ass. Is this how we roll?”

I jumped up again, fumbling with my shirt buttons, but she waved me off. I’d skipped protocol—no compliments, no hand kiss, not naked on my knees; nothing! I just shoved flowers in her face. She wanted more, I knew that, and I was fucking it up more by trying at this point.

“No, Mistress. Sorry. Got hyped. I’ll strip now—” I anxiously stepped out of my shoes and unbuckled my belt, but froze as she stood up, gliding closer, hands tracing my arms through the fabric.

“I like this shirt. I bought it for you. It’s a $200 Armani, fine cotton, hand-stitched buttons, custom made for you.” Her touch was tender, then her eyes locked mine—fierce, unyielding.

That sweetness, so purely her, made my heart stutter, glimpsing my wife behind my Mistress on these nights. But her face darkened, like a storm brewing, and she ripped the shirt open—buttons scattering like confetti at a Super Bowl win.

“See what you make me do? Ruined!” She yanked my belt, pulling it around my waist before throwing it on the ground and aggressively unbuttoning my pants.

She spun me around, tore the shirt off, and dragged my pants and boxers down my ankles. I was used to her being rougher with me, but it always caught me by surprise that someone so adorable could be so fierce.

Her arms wrapped around me as she kissed the back of my neck, tiptoeing as her hands explored my bare chest. She giggled as she whispered in my ear, as if she were about to tell me a secret: “It’s fine. I like you better naked.”

Her breath scorched my ear, her words—“I like you better naked”—hitting me like a shot of adrenaline, my pulse racing as fast as the day SpaceX landed our first rocket in place. Pants and boxers pooled at my ankles, the Armani shirt a torn relic on the floor. Her warmth was a temptress’s pull, but hearing her snap at me for doing something I shouldn’t have done burned my heart. I was late, bratty, a mess, and her eyes—dark like a night at sea—swore a reckoning. Her hand cracked down, a loud slap on my ass, a warning shot that made my skin tingle, a teaser for what was about to happen.

She stepped back, robe slipping, revealing a thigh I’d die for—her body was a sculpture of every wet dream I’d ever had, every curve a masterpiece that made me believe in God; and She was my woman. Her touch set me on fire, but it was when she looked me in the eyes that I felt I truly belonged somewhere, because being loved by her was so much better than what I had imagined being loved would feel like.

“You’ve been a pain in my ass tonight, Elon, and we barely even started.” She sank into the armchair, roses framing her like a queen’s bouquet, candlelight dancing on her skin. “Over my lap. Now.”

“What, no fancy toys tonight, Mistress?” I knew I was pushing it, but her reaction—that arched brow, that smirk—drove me insane.

“Keep sassing, let’s see where that takes you.” She curled her finger, calling me to her, her voice smooth as honey but with a twisted sharpness. “Move it, brat.”

I shuffled over, naked, feeling like a kid about to get schooled, but hard as a rock. Draping myself over her lap was—fuck, it was everything. Her thighs were warm, firm, anchoring me like a safe harbor in a storm. I felt exposed, raw, but hers—like I was handing her my empire, my wild dreams, letting her mold me as she was my sculptor.

Her hand rested on my back, steadying me. “Yellow for slow, red to stop,” she said, voice soft but unyielding like a queen’s decree. “Got it?”

“Got it, Mistress,” I mumbled, face mashed in the cushion, already half-lost in the heat of her body against mine.

The first smack hit—sharp, searing, her palm branding me like a hot iron. I gasped, the sting shooting through me, a fire I couldn’t outrun.

“One. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Good boy,” she purred, her words lighting me up and making me smile; I loved it when she called me a “good boy,” a spark in my heart. Yet another, harder slap followed on the opposite cheek, the burn spreading like wildfire. “Two. Keep counting.”

“Two, thank you, Mistress.” The feeling of her hand caressing my skin after each slap felt like love, felt right; it was hypnotic—her hand, my voice, our dance.

I squirmed, but her thigh locked me down, her power a force I couldn’t fight. My defiance melted into pure surrender, a genuine worship of her will.

“Aw, look at yourself, tearing up after a couple of slaps on this fat ass!” Her tease was a blade as she grabbed my ass cheek and squeezed me hard, her voice dripping with that deceptive kindness and love, making me feel less like her husband and more like her pet. She didn’t let up, her slaps coming fast, a storm I couldn’t escape.

“Three! Four! Five… Six! Thank you, Mistress!” I choked out, voice cracking like an old record, the sting burning deeper, a blaze I couldn’t tame. My cock pressed hard against her legs, throbbing with desperate need, wishing she would let me just hump her leg like a damn dog if it meant release.

Her fingers trailed over my ass, soft as a whisper, the cool touch of aloe vera soothing the inferno she’d set. I could feel the heat, my cheeks bright red, a canvas of her sadistic entertainment. I knew something like that was happening; I kind of asked for it earlier, and the truth is: my ass always paid for the pleasure she would grant later, a painful reminder I hated to admit I loved.

“That’s a good boy.” Her tone was calm, gentle, tricking me into thinking the storm was over. But then—crack—she kept going, her hand a thunderclap, finishing what she started.

“Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! Thank you, Mistress…” I screamed after each strike, voice shattering like broken glass, wailing under her mercy. I reached back, desperate to soothe the blaze, but she snatched my wrist, pinning it to my back, her loose grip challenging me to fight her.

“We’re not done yet.” Her voice was a dark melody, though, that quieted my mind; when she was telling me what to do, I could only focus on her, how to please her, how to get her to pet my head and call me “her good boy.”

I felt her moving in the chair, as if she were looking for something, and I tried to balance on her lap like a cat.

“Now, where did I put it— Just… get off me for a second, dear.”

She pushed me to the floor, my knees hitting the soft carpet with a thud, the sting radiating as I knelt before her. She stood, her robe slipping further—it was short enough that if I bent down just a little bit—she held my face, kissed my nose, her smile so kind it melted my heart, and I fell in love with her all over again. I gazed up, hoping she felt the love I poured into these secret nights, the only place my chaos found peace. She vanished into the bedroom, leaving me kneeling, rubbing my sore ass, the sound of her unzipping a bag echoing like a distant beat drop.

Her little feet whispered on the carpet as she rushed back, a black bag in hand—oh, I knew that bag, her arsenal of steamy tricks. She sank back into the armchair, patting her lap so I could jump back on it. I climbed back onto her lap, ass up, my dick rubbing against her bare leg, the aloe’s coolness lingering as her fingers massaged a second layer of it, and I tried to relax.

“You know what we’re doing tonight, right?” Her voice was curious, the scent of aloe mixing with her jasmine perfume, feeling like heaven, and fuck—I lived for those moments.

“Yes, Mistress.” I smirked, though she couldn’t see my face; my mind was already racing to the pleasure she’d promised.

“Are you excited?” I heard the pop of a lube cap, her hand diving into the bag. “I got you something new here, by the way.”

“Oh…” I shuffled on her lap, trying to balance, anticipation humming through me, yet I felt a little nervous.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna like this one.” She petted my hair, her touch so loving, making my skin yearn for more of her. “Same size, same material, but it vibrates; it has a remote control! Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“It does, actually… Is that going to be my reward, Mistress? I love it; I’m not complaining!” I added quickly, not daring to earn more smacks tonight, my ass already sore enough.

“No, it’s not. You’ll get to cum tonight, baby!” Before I could answer, I felt the tip of the toy nudge my entrance, and I moaned, a raw, primal sound that made her laugh—a playful, teasing chime. “Oh yes, sweetheart, take it all in. I want you nice and stretched for me later.”

“Fuck… Thank you, Mistress.” She teased me, sliding it in slowly, fucking me with deliberate care, yet I knew she liked watching me, seeing how I would react to her soft touches, making me melt under her hands. Then—thrust—she drove it hard, the fullness a shock that made me gasp embarrassingly loud.

“Hmmm… You like that, don’t you? Let me hear how much you like it when I play with your ass like a bitch.” Her fingers ran through my hair, gentle as a breeze, then tugged lightly, and I moaned, a sharp reminder of her complete control over me. “Are you a bitch, Elon?”

“Yes, Mistress. I’m your bitch.” The confession spilled out, my voice cracking with need. I blushed, putting my head down.

“Yes, you are.” I thrust my hips up, chasing the toy, trying to rub my dick on the side of her leg, imagining her watching me.

“You’re a horny little bitch who likes when girls fuck your ass?” she asked, pulling the toy almost all the way out before shoving it hard inside me, making me moan loudly.

“No, Mistress. I only like it when you do it. You are the only one. You own me—my body, my heart—I’m all yours.” My voice broke, a desperate cry of devotion, completely surrendered to her as she petted my hair.

“Aww, my sweet boy! I knew you deserved a new butt plug! Look! A bunny tail—isn’t it cute?” Her tone was saccharine, a mockery of me, as she showed the plug to me, and I twisted my nose at it. “Oh, stop it, you silly boy! You’re gonna look so cute!”

She pulled the toy out, replacing it with the vibrating butt plug—the stupid fluffy bunny tail on its end just added a humiliating detail that made my face burn.

“Get on your knees for me, bunny.”

I obeyed, kneeling before her, the carpet scraping my knees, the plug clicking to life inside me, a buzzing rhythm that owned me completely. She watched my expressions as she played with the remote, curiously watching me.

“Oh, wait, I almost forgot!” she said with a mischievous giggle, reaching back into her bag. She pulled out a pair of fluffy white bunny ears on a headband, the kind you’d see at a costume party, and leaned forward, placing them on my head with a delighted grin. “There we go—my perfect little bunny boy! Don’t you look adorable with your fluffy tail and ears?”

She adjusted the headband, her fingers brushing through my hair, and I felt my cheeks burn even hotter. She wrapped her fingers around my cock and pulled me closer, each stroke matching a vibration. I would have fallen on my knees if I had been standing.

“Is that good, bunny?” I moaned a half-answer, and she chuckled adorably, reaching for my face and putting her thumb in my mouth. I started sucking on it as she thrust in and out, my eyes fluttering closed. “Look at yourself, Elon. Is this how the richest man in the world should behave? Naked on his knees, with a butt plug shoved up his ass, bunny ears, sucking on my thumb, moaning so deliciously… Hmm, yeah… You are a horny little bitch, aren’t you, bunny? I bet you could cum right now if I told you to, couldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I answered, looking up at her guiltily, muffled by her thumb, the pulsing vibrations inside me continuing as she stroked me slowly before pulling her thumb out and kissing me, our tongues dancing as I thrust my hips into her hands before she took her hand away.

“You are so precious to me.” Her smile was a ray of sunlight, a glimpse of my wife beneath the storm, before she leaned back, reaching for the pink collar—allegedly, a badge of shame; in reality, it was one of my favorite things.

She pushed my head up, fastening the collar around my neck, its leather snug as her way of claiming me as hers. The leash clicked on, and she tugged, forcing me to crawl behind her, surrendering to her power. I felt the plug vibrating with every shuffle, a humiliating rhythm. The carpet kissed my knees, the leash tugged my neck, her footsteps barely audible.

She stopped abruptly in the doorway to the bedroom, turning to look at me with a wicked grin. “Oh, bunny, you’re a sight,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement as she took in the view—me on all fours, the leash taut in her hand, the fluffy bunny tail plug shifting with each movement, and the white bunny ears perched on my head, slightly askew from the crawl. “My perfect little pet, all leashed up, tail, ears… It’s a Kodak moment if I ever saw one!”

She reached into her bag, pulling out an old Polaroid camera with a gleeful squeal. “Hold still, bunny—smile for me!” She aimed the camera, and I managed a weak, embarrassed grin, my cheeks burning as the flash went off with a click. The photo whirred out, and she shook it, laughing.

“For blackmail later!” she teased, her tone playful but with a hint of mischief that made my stomach flip.

She squinted at the developing photo, then pouted dramatically.

“Ugh, Elon, you always look miserable in my Polaroids! Come on, pretend you’re having fun this time.” She adjusted the camera, giving me a mock-stern look. I forced a bigger smile, trying to look enthusiastic despite the humiliation, and she snapped another picture. “Much better,” she said, setting the camera and photos aside on a nearby table. “Now, hop in the bed, bunny.”

I stood, the bunny ears wobbling slightly as I moved, trying to sit on the bed, but the plug shifted deeper, a buzzing pulse that made me squirm. I couldn’t get comfy, blushing as I shuffled; she just watched and giggled at me. I felt like an idiot thinking a woman like her would love me, but I knew she did, even when I was under her divine judgment.

She reached into her bag, pulling out pink leather cuffs and anklets—matching the collar, a demeaning set that branded me hers, and she was so proud of it.

“Lay down.” Her voice was a command, soft but unyielding. I obeyed, the silk sheets cool against my back, the plug vibrating as I settled. She’d rigged the bed with an under-mattress harness—weeks of planning had gone into that weekend. I was already sore, humiliated, and harder than I’d ever been; my body answering to her every touch.

She restrained me, spread-eagle, taking her time to ensure my comfort, her fingers lingering as she locked each cuff. Her gentle touch was a fiery ritual; she reminded me of my safe words.

“Thank you, Mistress.” I smiled at her, and she kissed the tip of my nose, her soft touches making me feel at ease because I trusted my life to that woman without a second thought.

She straddled me with a naiveté that felt so genuine, yet I knew she was about to torture me. Her excitement was visible, her joy in claiming me—it was pure, but she knew my limits better than I did. I sighed deeply, expecting the worst.

“You wanna cum tonight, right, bunny?” Her nails scratched my chest, a light graze that sent shivers through me, my skin humming like I’d downed ten Diet Coke cans.

“Yes, please?” I begged, my cock twitching desperately.

“Is that it? You can do better than that! Ask me like you mean it. Beg for it, bunny.” She lay atop me, biting down my neck, her teeth leaving a sore mark, and every thought I ever had disappeared.

“Fuck! Hmm… I need to cum so bad and I—I—I can only cum to you!” My voice broke, a raw cry, my body begging for her touch as she sucked on my neck, leaving a trail of marks from my shoulders down to my chest.

“Keep going…” she teased, tracing hearts with her fingertips over my arm.

“Hmm… God! You are so fucking hot! And—and you make me so hard! My balls hurt, Mistress. Please, I need to cum!” I threw my head back, pulling on my restraints. “Please, help me.”

“Hmm, yes, bunny. I’ll help you.” Her fingers wrapped around my cock, moving slowly as she started teasing the head with her lips, a delicious torment that made my head spin. “Ooh! Fuck yes!”

“Yes, bunny?” Her hand moved faster, a rhythm that matched the plug’s vibrations, each pulse a reminder of her control. I thrust desperately in her hand, completely surrendered to her, at her mercy.

She just sat between my legs, toying with my reactions, watching, her eyes drinking in my frustration, my futile attempts to gain friction from her hand. She played with the plug’s remote, changing the sensations, from intense to light. I was seconds from exploding when she let go, and I whimpered, feeling the vibrator stop.

“Aww, you didn’t think it would be this easy, did you?” Her voice was a playful melody.

“No… I guess not…” I shut my eyes tight, letting them roll inside my head.

“I know, isn’t that fun? How many more times can I edge you before you’re crying?” Her tone darkened, an evil taunt, as she kissed me, biting my lip, her breath like a steamy wave. She restarted her slow edging, using her loving hands to torment me, fiery desire rebuilding inside me.

“You’re so much fun, all tied up, at my mercy, getting harder and harder… Hmm, bunny… Are you feeling it? Are you close? You wanna cum for me, don’t you?”

“Oh—fuck! Yes, I do! I do!” I knew she wouldn’t let me yet, but every time she asked, I answered just as sincerely. “Let me cum, please, let me cum for you, Mistress!”

Once again, she stopped, seconds from my climax. I tried pulling free, harder, arms and legs straining against the cuffs, but they held, unyielding as her will. I must’ve looked ridiculous, thrusting into the air, her gaze a mocking judgment.

“Elon, Elon, Elon…” She shook her head, sitting beside me, drawing circles around my nipples with her nails, each touch a spark that made me shiver. “Should you get to cum before I do?”

“No, Mistress. Never!” I gasped, still catching my breath, when she pinched my nipple, a sharp sting that made me whimper, a sound of surrender to her.

“Then why were you trying to just now?” She squeezed tighter, the sting sharp but not cruel.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. You just make me lose control.” I pleaded, her fingers moving to the other nipple, squeezing with the same measured pressure. “Mistress, please… It hurts.”

“It does?” Her tone was mocking, a playful shock, her smile a wildfire’s glow in the night. She let go, her grin teasing me. “Am I being mean to my baby tonight?”

“Devious, Mistress,” I answered, gazing at her face—a vision under the candlelight, her features soft yet fierce, the scent of fresh roses filling the room, a steamy perfume. “Please, let me make you cum.”

“Oh, you’re thinking about me for once?” Her chuckle was dark, a fiery taunt, as she turned her head away, her hair cascading in waves.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I get caught up. Let me please you.” I wanted to touch her, tried inching closer, but the cuffs held me, making me shuffle uncomfortably, trying to keep the plug in its place.

“What can you possibly do to please me?” Her tone was a challenge, a test for me.

“Anything you want! I love you, and I want you to use me however you like.” My voice was a plea since my body was an offering to her shrine.

“I do that already, don’t I, bunny?” She leaned against my chest, pinching my nipple, her touch a sharp reminder of her power over me. “You’re like my little fuck toy.”

“I should let you make me cum, put that tongue to good use…” She smiled, a deceptive sweetness, then softened.

“Yes, ma’am!” In that moment, I glimpsed my wife—two extremes in one. Her soft touch on my stomach was so her, but her tongue against my skin, as she licked my nipples to soothe the pain she had caused from pinching them, was so Mistress. It felt erotic in a poetic way.

Her knees framed my head, and she paused, reaching up with a mischievous grin to slip the bunny ears off my head.

“My turn,” she teased, placing them on her own head, the fluffy white ears perching adorably atop her chestnut waves.

Fuck, she looked like a goddess in a naughty costume, the bunny ears making her even hotter—my cock twitched harder, a primal ache to worship her, to bury myself in her warmth, knowing she was about to ride my face with those ears on.

She lowered herself onto my face, her center like a gift. I got to work, tongue tracing her, making her moans a symphony that drowned out the world, her hands pulling my hair, guiding me like a director on a movie set. I spelled my name with my tongue against her as she pressed my face closer, cumming hard in raw moans and cries; I didn’t stop, sucking her clit until she yanked my hair back, forcing me down, done using me.

“Good boy…” Her voice was breathless, a sultry sigh, as she sat on my chest, balancing her weight on her legs. She grabbed a wipe, cleaning my face with tenderness. “Let me play with you some more.”

She positioned herself between my legs, her lips on my cock, sucking me off, making me thrust into her mouth. “I’m close… Fuck! Mistress…”

“You’re so hard, bunny… Hmm… your balls feel heavy. I think you need to cum.” She held my cock up while fondling my balls, watching my dick twitching, a sad little star in her hand. “Yes, look at you.”

Her chuckle was a taunt.

She straddled me again, holding my waist firmly against the bed, lowering herself, rubbing my cock against her wet entrance, teasing me.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” My eyes widened, head forcing up despite the cuffs. “I want to get fucked, but you cannot cum yet.”

“Fuck yes! Ooh, let me fuck you, please!” My voice was a desperate cry as I tried my best to rub my dick against her as she lifted herself slightly out of reach.

“Listen to me, I’m gonna use your cock to make myself cum while I play with your butt plug, but you can’t cum. If you’re close, you’re gonna tell me. Understood?” Her voice was serious, somber; she had her hand gripping my throat, squeezing lightly, reminding me who was the boss.

“Yes, Mistress…” I rasped, my heartbeat pounding like a bass drop at a rave as she gripped my cock.

“Don’t fucking move,” she whispered, keeping one hand tight around my throat with enough pressure for it to be a constant reminder of my position. Her other hand guided my cock inside her—so tight, I fit her like a glove; she felt like a heaven I’d never deserve.

I wanted to thrust inside her, my mind flashing to earlier that week—her bent over the bathroom sink, me fucking her deep, watching her cum in the mirror, spilling inside her, knowing she’d be pregnant soon. But tonight, I was hers to use, just another toy she might have pulled out of her bag.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m close!” I warned, her rhythm riding me hard, a blaze building. She squeezed my throat tighter, cutting my air for a few seconds, making me gasp for air.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Her eyes locked on mine, wild as a hurricane, claiming all of me as she dug her nails into my shoulders.

She let go, and I watched her peel off her robe, revealing her perfect body—her breasts were perky, and her nipples were hard. I could tell how turned on she was just by looking at her face, but watching her body warm up because she was doing things to me made everything that much better. A jolt of heat hit me, and I was close again. “Stop! Stop! I’m gonna cum… Please, stop…”

“No, you’re not!” She smacked me across the face, and I just felt paralyzed; not the first time, still shocked me every time, her hand back around my throat again, cutting my air for a brief moment. “I’m gonna cum on your cock, and you’re gonna be a good little fuck toy and wait your turn!”

She forced my head aside, denying me the sight of her body moving as she rode me faster and harder, her other hand playing with herself, her gasps in a steamy crescendo.

I felt her cum, a blaze of her pulsating pleasure gripping my cock, and it took everything not to spill inside her.

She lay beside me, sweating, throwing an arm over me, playing with my nipples again, sparking electric shocks all over my body. My cock was sore from being hard for so long, the plug still vibrating, making it hard for me to think of anything else as I shuffled weakly, trying to see her.

“Please, let me cum…” I said weakly, the steady frustration starting to make me feel depressed.

“Are you going to cry, baby? Are you that desperate?” Her hands gently stroked the side of my face where she had slapped me. “Did it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She threw herself on top of me, kissing my whole face. “Okay, I’m gonna let you cum! But before that, I need you to do something for me, okay, bunny?”

“Yes, anything, just… tell me what to do.” She smiled like a sunrise and released my cuffs, and I stretched my limbs after being restrained for so long. She went to her bag, her arsenal of tricks, and grabbed something.

“Legs up, back on the bed, get a pillow.” She instructed, strapping on her harness, and I obeyed, putting a pillow under my lower back, the plug slipping as I moved.

She pulled it out slowly, the emptiness inside me feeling like a void, then I heard her lubing the harnessed dildo, then my hole, kneeling before me, pulling me by the waist, the tip of the rubber dildo rubbing against me.

“Are you ready, pretty boy?” Her voice was gentle, her hand caressing my face, her love a contrast to her earlier nastiness. She was always so sweet when she pegged me.

“Yeah…” I felt her push inside, slowly, the tip stretching me wider than the plug, a steamy invasion that made me wince, then moan. Her eyes locked on mine, a gentle yet fiery gaze, fucking me with love and care.

“Aren’t you the boss, Elon?” She mocked me, fucking me slowly but steadily.

“Sometimes… Not here.” I gasped, holding my legs back.

“Yeah, here you’re my little bitch fuck toy, aren’t you? Hmm… yes… Tell me how you wanna be fucked in the ass—do you want me to go easy on you,” she continued thrusting slowly, going deep inside me, moans spilling from me, “or do you want me to fuck you like the whore you are?”

She picked up the pace, and I couldn’t answer, just kept moaning louder, my voice breaking like a scratched vinyl. I tried holding onto her arms, but she pushed my hand away and interlocked our fingers, pulling my waist up and holding me steady, going deeper.

As she thrust harder, the bunny ears on her head slipped off, tumbling to the side and landing in a far corner of the room with a soft thud, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

“Yeah, you like this, don’t you? What do they call you now? Dogefather?” She asked, laughing at me, slowing down her thrusts just to taunt me. “And the funniest part is: everyone thinks you’re the one fucking me in the ass!”

As she continued making fun of me, she started jerking me off, sending me so close to the edge only to slow down again, and I fought against those restraints as hard as I could.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself, Elon. Relax, I won’t tell anyone you’re my bottom bitch.” She said, kissing my face.

“I don’t… care… what they… think!” She thrusted as I tried to talk, and I interrupted myself with my own moans. “I only care… what you think.”

“You wanna cum for me, Elon? Are you sure? Do you remember the rules?” Her devious grin was like a Cheshire Cat’s, her hand still stroking me fast, making me lose focus.

“Hm—yes, Mistress; eat it or wear it.” I answered, sadness tinging my voice; I was hoping we would skip that.

“What’s it gonna be?” Her hand moved to the head of my cock, massaging it in rhythm with her thrusts. “Oh, I think you’re close… Answer, or no orgasm, Elon.”

“Wear it! Fuckfuckfuck—” I couldn’t hold it, exploding on her hand, a blaze of release while she was milking every drop, a petite mort. I was shattered under her touch, returned to dust like sand.

She collected my seed, smearing it on my chest and face, and I lay there, covered in my own cum, unable to move, a ridiculous fuck toy—and I loved it.

“Good boy! You look pretty like a Pollock painting!” Her smile was a blaze, her kindness again deceptive as she cleaned her hands, walking to her bag, pulling out a pink metal cock cage—matching the cuffs, a final punishment.

“Wait—”

“No, I don’t think I will, bunny. You came; now you’re going in the cage ‘til morning.” She pushed my shaky hand away, my body too dizzy to resist. She cleaned me up with a wet wipe, locking me in the cage. “You just look so delightfully unhappy in your cage! I love it, bunny.”

She sat beside me, removing my collar and cuffs, taking her tools back to the bag before returning with chocolate and cleaning my chest and face gently. She wrapped me in a blanket, then brought me a cold Gatorade from the mini fridge.

“Oh, you’ve been through it tonight, haven’t you?” She asked, cuddling me as I laid my head on her chest, her heartbeat a rhythm I’d follow anywhere. “I think we need a bath—both of us, actually. How does that sound?”

“That sounds nice…” I said, wrapping her in the blanket with me, my leg over hers, our bodies tangled in a warm embrace.

“Yeah? You okay, honey?” Her voice was gentle, dripping with sudden honest concern. She placed her hand under my chin, making me look at her with big, shining eyes.

“I’m okay. It was so good! Thank you.” I yawned, and she kissed my nose. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, bunny.” I kissed her, and she tasted like being wine drunk, a flame I’d worship forever.

Part 2: Her POV

“Baby?” I called him as I felt his body relaxing, drifting off to sleep. “Baby, I need to get up.”

“Hmm…” He grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and holding me tighter.

“Hey, I’m just gonna run the bath. You can nap while I do that, okay?” I kissed his forehead, and he held me for a moment longer. I wished I could just stay in his arms forever, but just like that, he let me go.

I kissed his face again, watching him fall asleep once more. The right side of his face still bright red from my slap, and my heart sank. I ran my fingers over his hair before taking a deep breath and picking up my robe from the floor. I looked around the room and started to collect all the toys I had used on him to take to the bathroom—something for him to do tomorrow: clean them up.

I threw everything into one of the sinks and turned on the faucet. As the water ran loudly, filling the bathtub, I sat on the edge and let my tears roll. Every time after we played, I’d get a little emotional afterwards, and I don’t think Elon realized that. I loved being mean to him; it was fun, and I knew he enjoyed it as much as I did, but after the scene was over, I was left thinking: What the fuck is wrong with me?

I just slapped my husband on the face! He was tied up, my poor baby; he didn’t do anything wrong. How can I do these things to the person I love most in the world? Shit, I would never tell anyone about what we did; why did I keep threatening him with that? I knew the whole bunny thing would make him feel super awkward, but the duality of absolutely loving to torture him collided with my love for him.

I went back into the bedroom and grabbed my “aftercare” bag. Elon was still sleeping, cuddling a pillow like a child whose parent had to get up to go to work. He was right there in front of me, yet I missed him terribly—I couldn’t explain it. I’ve always thought these moments happened because of such a dramatic power dynamics switch when we played, since most of the time I don’t put up a fight; I let Elon do his thing and follow along, and I like that way. I like that he’s in control of pretty much everything important that needs to happen in our lives, even sending in clothes and makeup for me when we need to make a public appearance suddenly.

I remember when we started joking about these encounters with my evil alter ego—the mistress Elon is “cheating” on me with. It’s a dumb joke we have, but when we get down to it, I feel like someone else. In the moment, I am confident and powerful, in control of everything, and my will is the law. It’s fun and sexy, but also extremely demanding.

I went back to the bathroom and threw a bath bomb with Epsom salts into the water, watching as the colors swirled and mixed, before adding some body wash for extra bubbles. I wasn’t a huge fan of the scent—the jasmine in it gave me a headache—but for some unexplained reason, Elon loved it.

When I had all my shower products lined up, it was time to blow my nose and go get my very sleepy husband off the bed. If he didn’t have cum in his hair, I might have let him sleep, but I knew he would thank me later for this.

“Hey…” I whispered, touching his arm lightly before gently nudging him awake. “Hey, sweetheart, let’s take that bath?”

“Were you crying?” he asked before even opening his eyes and looking at me.

“I just… feel bad sometimes, you know?” I admitted, running my hand up and down his forearm.

“Hey,” Elon sat up, stretching his back and neck before taking my hand, “it’s okay. I’m okay. I loved it! Could have done it without the cock cage.”

“I know,” I smiled kindly at him, almost giggling at how much I knew he loved it. “The cock cage stays on. I don’t feel that guilty.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he shrugged and leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him by putting my hand on his chest.

“You have cum in your hair,” I chuckled as a few tears rolled down my face. “I’m sorry…”

“You didn’t hurt me. Cum is harmless!” He laughed, touching his sticky hair and making a face. “Granted, this is fucking gross.”

“Yeah, maybe we should sleep in your room too. These sheets have so much bodily fluids and lube on them.” I stood up next to the bed, looking at that beautifully tired man; even with cum in his hair, he looked so fucking hot.

“Oh yes, you are very generous with the lube. I can still feel some in, actually… Ugh, I feel dirty—like, actually dirty. I need that shower.” He dragged himself over to the edge of the bed where I was standing.

“Yeah, your ass should be grateful for that!” I joked as I took him by the hand and pulled him up, looking at the cage around his dick and giggling. “Looks comfy!”

“It isn’t! For how long will it stay on? This part here, behind my balls, is super uncomfortable.” I ignored him, taking him by the hand and leading him to the bathroom as he fumbled with it; not his first time in that cock cage, not my first time listening to all of his complaints about it either.

“Yeah, that goes there so you can’t just slip it right off,” I joked, testing the water in the bathtub. “Get in.”

“Can’t I have it off while I’m in the tub?” His tired puppy eyes almost convinced me; I had such a hard time saying no to him.

“No. Get in.” But I did it anyway because he smirked at me and shook his head, stepping into the tub. “I put your favorite bath bomb in it.”

“Yeah, I love this smell…” He sat down, visibly relaxing his body. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Yes, dear, give me a second.” I walked to the sink and grabbed one of the glass cups on the sink before stripping off my robe and getting into the tub behind him. “I want to give you a bath today.”

“Ooh, are you going to pamper me now? Must be feeling really bad for that spanking, hm? You really went for it, damn girl!” He joked, and I rolled my eyes, filling the cup with water and dumping it on his head.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Were you saying something?” I chuckled as he dried his eyes and spat out some water. As he took a breath to continue, I dumped another cup of bath water on his head.

“Fine! I’ll stop complaining!” He bent his head forward to dry his eyes as I reached for the shampoo. “You win.”

“I always do, dear!” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him back to lay against me as I started to massage his scalp with the shampoo. “Let me get that cum out of your hair.”

“Dude, if anyone ever finds out about this…” In reality, when we considered someone might find out about our little secret, we started laughing; the thought was so terrifying it became a joke.

“No one’s ever gonna know, but yeah…” I laughed, stretching my legs around him, feeling his hands caressing the outside of my thighs underwater. “The album is in the safe back at home. I’ll put the pictures inside my travel book as usual. It will be fine.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about that. When will I see this album?” He turned around to catch a glimpse of me.

“Soon. When it’s ready. Get the water for me.” I pointed to the faucet, which he opened, and I filled up the cup, putting his head back on my chest so I could rinse his hair; I felt its ends against my skin and watched as the shampoo ran down my body, feeling his hair on my chest. “Alright, I want to do something special today. We don’t always have whole weekends together!”

I interlocked our fingers with a girlish smile on my lips.

“This is a hair moisturizer. It just needs to sit on your hair for a minute, and it will be so soft after. Sounds good?”

“Okay, let me smell it. Oh, it’s the same one you use?” he asked as soon as I popped the cap.

“Yeah, this is all my stuff. You’re gonna be smelling like me tonight!” I smiled as I worked the moisturizer into the ends of his hair before rinsing my hands and reaching for my skincare products.

I dried my hands with a towel I had placed on a marble side table next to the bathtub, where my skincare was, and dabbed a cotton pad with some micellar water, pulling his head back and gently cleaning his face with it.

“Now comes the fun part. Don’t move, and close your eyes.” I opened the face mask package.

“Aw shit… What are you doing?” The hint of anxiety in his voice made me chuckle; he knew I wasn’t going to do anything to him right now, but he also knew I could.

“Don’t worry, just relax.” As soon as I got a hold of the flimsy mask and the cold, gooey serum dripped on his face, Elon opened his eyes and sat up. “It’s not cum! It’s a face mask!”

He turned around to look at me, but I was hysterically laughing at his reaction because I knew he would freak out just like that. Elon just stared at me seriously at first, then turned his back and laid back on me; his body was so warm and big between my legs like that, I loved sitting behind him in the bathtub.

“I know, I had you for a second.” His flustered smile, with his eyes closed, laying on my chest, made my heart race; he knew how much I loved him—he could hear it.

I awkwardly put the mask on his face, struggling a bit with the upside-down situation, but he was very patient and stayed put while I did it. The truth is, I had never had a relationship like this, where my partner trusted me fully with his body and just let me do anything I wanted to him. Elon would let me pick out his clothes, change his hair if I asked, and even kick back with me and do a face mask. He was my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him anymore.

He had his hands on top of my thighs underwater as I slowly filled the glass with water and streamed it down his chest. His breathing was slow and peaceful, and I wished I could have moments with my husband like this every day. The weight of his body on mine as he rested for a few minutes made all the time we spent apart worth it, and I knew he worked really hard all day, every day, so knowing he could just relax when he was with me made me feel as if I was fulfilling my purpose.

I took a loofah from the hotel that was hanging on the side of the bathtub and got a little bit of the body wash, starting to wash down his shoulders and arms, all the way to his wrists and fingertips. I knew his body like I knew my own—every beauty mark, every scar, every little bit of it was mine. I could have stayed with him there forever, but the water was starting to cool off.

“Let’s see the results!” I said, taking off the face mask, gently rubbing the rest of the serum on his face and discarding the silicone part. “Oh no, I guess it couldn’t fix your face!”

“Guess you’re stuck with me this way forever,” he joked, squeezing my thigh.

“Lucky me!” I answered and pushed him up, which he did after opening the drain.

“You look tired…” He mentioned, helping me stand up, and I looked up at him as he pulled me in, turning on the overhead shower. “Your turn.”

I just smiled as he grabbed some of the body wash and started to rub it all over my body. I leaned my head against his shoulder and started crying. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was feeling, other than absolutely drained—physically and emotionally. It was a war inside me, and I felt as if I didn’t deserve his love at that moment because I had been so awful to him before. He deserved to be pampered by me, but I didn’t—at least not in my head. It wasn’t a rational response; it was simply a response.

Elon just held me as he washed every single part of my body, even kneeling to wash my feet without tickling me. His hands were so big, but he was very delicate when washing my hair, even remembering that I only use conditioner on the tips of my hair. The mix of his hands washing me and the warm water on my skin felt like a breath of fresh air, but before I knew it, he was turning off the shower and wrapping me in a towel.

I felt like a child standing there in the tub, watching him move around with the ridiculous cock cage, watching him dry his dick through the gaps. I waited for him to finish drying himself before I wrapped my hair in a towel and dried off as well.

“You know, we don’t have to do this if it makes you feel this bad,” he mentioned as I sat down on the edge of the tub, still wrapped in the towel.

“My heart hurts for you, baby. It really does,” I said, slowly lifting my gaze to glimpse at him, too embarrassed to look into his eyes.

“We can always take this off…” he suggested, and I hung my head, smiling to myself.

“You know I’m not doing that, right?” I answered, grabbing a piece of toilet paper to blow my nose.

“Fuck! C’mon, you don’t want to feel shitty all night.”

“I won’t, and if I do, I’m sure I’ll think of something you can do to cheer me up!” I answered, sniffing, and grabbed the cage without touching his dick before starting to walk. “C’mon, bunny. It’s only Friday night; we have until Sunday to play!”

We grabbed the hotel robes and walked out of my room, across the hallway to his, where the three of us cuddled all night—just me, my darling husband Elon, and his pink cock cage.

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