Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Waiting	By : girlcalledkill00 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Green Day Views: 1858 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know or own the band Green Day or any of it's members including Billie Joe and Adrienne Armstrong. This is purely fiction and I made no money from writing it, just enjoyment.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2: No Pride
I do my best, honest to God, but I can’t hold still any more. I don’t know how much time passes, it fucking seems like forever. My knees feel as if nails are being driven into them, so I sit back. I have to. Of course she knows this. She knows how long I can wait, how long I can hold still, how long I can kneel, and then she pushes me just a little past that point…and I can either manage to get through it, or suffer her consequences.
Disappointed in myself, and with fear tightening my stomach, I sit and lower my face and shiver. The room is nearly dark, as the sun had crawled below the horizon as I had knelt here; and with a lack of sunshine, the coolness of the early spring evening creeps into our house. I am now officially cold. I wrap my arms around myself instead of holding them at my sides:another rule broken. My stomach tightens more. I swallow and listen intently, until finally, I hear her footsteps, and I feel my face flush with happiness. Jesus I'm pathetic.
I get back onto my knees and put my arms down. She opens the door and I stare at her and feel my cock get twice as hard as before. She’s just beautiful, with her hair down, in a black tank top with lace, and black panties to match. She pauses by the door to light a bunch of candles on the dresser, and now there's a flickering glow on her pretty face. Not that I give a shit about the lighting, but she does look nice in the candlelight.
She smiles at me and comes up to me. Without a word, she tips my chin up with her fingertips, leans down, and kisses me on my mouth. She presses her sweet lips to mine and uses her tongue to take possession of me; swirling and pushing , along my teeth and tongue and inside my mouth, and she bites my lip lightly with her teeth. She runs her small hands through my hair. I groan as I try to kiss her back, but that’s when she pulls away and takes her hands off of me, so abruptly, my heart aches.
I try to hide my disappointment as she smiles at me. “So, Billie Joe, did you obey me? Did you kneel and hold still? Did you touch yourself?” Her voice is just as I had imagined: quiet, sweet, and razor sharp, all at once. My erection buzzes and tingles.
I have to answer, I know I have to answer. God, I don’t want to speak. I just want to fuck her; I want to stand up, scoop her up, dump her onto the bed, and climb aboard. I could make her feel so fucking good. But even more I want…this. The waiting, the delay, even the pain and shame, make it so much sweeter in the end. I just have to get to the end in one piece.
But that’s part of the magic. It's like music. It's not always pretty, it's not always a beautiful perfect thing, but when everything comes together, in the end there is nothing else in the world that compares to it.
“I didn’t touch myself. “ I start with the easy one. She raises her eyebrow at me and smirks and looks down at my near-exploding hard on.
“I can see that.” She grabs my chin, hard, and I feel a hot flush of fear course down my spine. “ And you will address me properly, got it, Billie Joe?” She shoves my face like I am an object in her way. I feel my cheeks grow warm as well.
“Yes…l.Mistress…I’m sorry…”
“Be quiet. Answer my question. Did you hold still?”
I look down and swallow. She knows damn well how long she made me hold her position, and how hard it is for me. It's just not fair.
“It hurt,” I began.
Grabbing my long hair in her strong fingers, she gives it a good yank and my face is tipped up so far, I can barely keep my balance on my knees. I can’t keep the whimper from escaping my lips as I grab a hold of her arm to keep from falling over.
“Get your hands off of me, “ she says. Her voice has gone quieter. I get that hot flush again, through my whole body, as I put my hands down. She’s got me pinned by the hair, barely balanced on sore knees. She continues in that quiet, razor’s edge voice. “Did I ask you if it hurt? Do I give a fuck if it hurt?”
“N—No, Mistress,” I manage to say through a tight throat. God I am so hard, it’s just impossible.
“Right. So answer my question, Billie Joe. Did you hold still? I’m not going to ask again.”
“Mistress…I….I didn’t hold still. I disobeyed you. But—“
She yanks on me again. My head is tipped back so far, I have to arch my back. I whimper again.
“Shut up. There is no ‘but’, there are no excuses. You know this, Billie Joe. None. You didn’t obey me, end of story. I told you to hold still, and you didn’t. I suppose you broke rules, too? You’d better answer my question right away. No more of your bullshit, Billie Joe. “
She takes her hand out of my hair, and cautiously I bring my head forward, lower my face, and draw a deep breath. I want to shift on my knees, but I’m afraid . I look back up at her. She looks down at me like I am nothing, like I am something to be dealt with, then gotten rid of. My throat tightens and my nose is burning, but I don't want to cry, not yet anyway.
“Yes, Mistress, I broke the rules. I didn’t keep my arms down at my sides. And I made noises without permission.” My knees are on fire. I don’t dare move.

She shakes her head and sighs. “What am I going to do with you? I am always correcting you. Maybe I should just give up.”
She walks away to make her point. She has her hand on the door knob. I am flooded with panic, that she will leave me here, alone, wanting, needing, desperate for her, for anything from her. “No, please,” I cry ”Please, Mistress, stay.”
She turns around and looks down at me as if I might slightly amuse her, after all. “Please,” I say again.
“Well, and what must I do, Billie Joe, if you won’t follow my rules?”
My cheeks burning with shame, I know what she wants me to do, and I am humiliated to my core. But I must, I must please her, she can’t leave me like this tonight! I lower my face and speak to the floor, I can’t meet her eyes. “Please, punish me, " I murmer through my tight throat. Unable to control them any longer, tears fill my eyes. I look back up at her, blink, feel the hot sticky trails run slowly down each of my warm cheeks and make the inside of my nose burn. “Punish me and I’ll learn how to be good, don’t give up on me, please, Mistress, I need you..”
She smiles a little, then laughs, “Do you honestly think I care what you need, a little worthless sub?”
“No, Mistress, of course not.” I look down again. I move my knees before I can stop myself.
She grabs my hair again, on the side. Christ, no wonder she likes me to keep it long. I think long hair has become the latest new rule. She raises her voice a little; it sends a chill down my spine. “What the hell are you doing? You are begging me to teach you the rules, and you are breaking them right before my eyes. You are being very bad, Billie Joe. “
“Yes, Mistress, I’m sorry.” She releases me with that demeaning shove again.
She leans in and kisses me again, tenderly, long, and hard; with her hands cupping my face and tipping it up gently. I am so hot and hard for her, I groan as she’s kissing me. She presses my lips until they hurt and I am nearly suffocating.
“Please,” I say , gasping for air, when she pulls away. My lips are warm and sore, she has kissed me so hard. She smirks at me as her eyes travel down to my hard cock. I feel my cheeks flush with the heat of embarrassment. She hasn't even touched me down there, and I'm so fucking horny, ready to burst. At least I am amusing her enough to keep her in the room.
“Please what, Billie Joe?”
“Please fuck me.”
She laughs outright at that one. Well, it was worth a try, anyway, I think.
“Oh, Billie Joe, I’m not going to fuck you until I discipline you. I might not fuck you at all. You really need to learn the rules before you get any fucking. Now, I’m going to give you a choice, since you begged so prettily for your punishment. You can get hit with a whip, or your belt. I get to decide where, and how much. But believe me, you are going to have some nice bruises to help remind you of the rules. So which will it be, Billie Joe?”
Jesus, what a choice. They both hurt, a lot. She caresses my cheek with her fingers. I turn my face and kiss them. It's so humiliating, saying the words out loud. My face burns. “Mistress, use the….the belt.” I say meekly.
“Say please, sub. Use a complete sentence. Or maybe I’ll just leave and go watch TV. I’m just about done with you, Billie Joe.”
I draw a deep breath. “Mistress, please punish me with the belt.” I say it nice and clear. I look up at her and suffer on my burning knees. I press my hands, which have gone sweaty, into my thighs to hide the trembling and swallow past the lump in my throat.
She smiles. “Now, that’s much better. You ask so nicely, Billie Joe, I suppose I’ll stay and see what can be done with you.”
“Yes, thank you, Mistress,” I choke out. I shift my weight again on my knees. There's just no comfortable way to hold this position. God, when is she going to let me up? I feel like I’ve been on my knees for four days.
Shaking her head at my movements, she says “You keep moving around like that, and you’ll get more than the belt, Billie Joe. You know I can think of additional ways to discipline you. The belt can be just the beginning. Is that what you want? “
“No, please, I’ll hold still. Just the belt, nothing more, please, Mistress,” I plead.
She shakes her head. “Be quiet. We’ll see.” She walks away, and picks up my jeans from the pile of clothing. Grasping the silver buckle, she snakes my black leather belt out of the belt loops and folds it up in her hands as she walks back over to me on her pretty little bare feet. I start trembling with fear when reality hits home at the sight of the belt in her hand. I break out in a cold, clammy sweat that I want to wipe from my forehead, but I don’t have permission to move. I bite my lip. This is always the worst part; the time before. The preparation, the fear, the sweating.
She just stands there holding the belt, watching me. She smiles sweetly. “You are so lovely when you're afraid, Billie Joe. Just beautiful.”
All I can do is tremble and answer her miserably , “Thank you, Mistress.”
As she walks over to me, all I can see is the belt in her right hand. I tense up, and flinch when she lays her left hand gently on my shoulder, and gives it a gentle squeeze. And then I forget myself altogether and do what she has just been waiting for: I move my sore, painful knees yet again. I realize what I have done only when it’s too late. And I realize that she was going to wait and watch me as long as it took, to catch me breaking the rule. There was no way I could avoid this.
Her smile disappears, and she says, “That’s it Billie Joe, now you’re going to get it.”
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Waiting