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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
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter 4: Hold On
[BDSM Warning: smutty, painful pleasures await: D/s, humiliation, oral, and orgasm control.]
Sitting up beside me, she takes a hold of my sweaty chin and moves her face close to mine to look me in the eye. Her voice drops down to that quiet knife edge. "Billie Joe, listen carefully. I'm not through with you, pet. Remember, you kept moving on your knees, right before my eyes? That was bad, Billie Joe. It's one thing to be bad and break the rules when I'm not around to supervise you. But it's another thing altogether for you to disobey me while I'm standing right in front of you. You need to learn some self discipline. Your purpose is to please me, not to seek your own comfort." She releases my face.
I press my teary eyes shut, then open them again on her. "Please, Mistress, forgive me," I say meekly. "Please, no more punishment. I'll be good..." Shit, my ass hurts so bad, I can barely think.
"No, Billie Joe, you're not getting out of it, no matter how pretty you are when you beg. It's time to stop talking now."
I'm in no position to argue, despite the new surge of fear that washes through my body. I wonder, now what is she going to do? I know better than to ask. I gasp for air as she's talking to me.
"Billie Joe, I'm going to unlock all the cuffs, but you are not to move until I give you directions. Remember, you are still being punished, so don't move or speak until spoken to. If you don't listen, I start all over again with the belt. You'll be very sore for your next show,Billie Joe. Got it?"
I'm already going to be sore for the next show. It's in fucking two days. Good thing my profession does not require sitting. "Yes, Mistress, " I answer as I still try to catch my breath. I can't quite stifle my sobbing, as more tears seep from my eyes and soak the blanket beneath me. My ass is throbbing.
She rolls off me and takes her time with her little key. She kisses my fingers, each one, and unlocks the hand cuffs, and leaves them hanging on the headboard. In case I need them again, I guess. Then she is at my feet, unlocking the shackles at my ankles, and leaves those there, as well. I use this opportunity to calm down with the crying, and get my breathing under control. I'm sure she gave me the time on purpose; a small gift. Nothing she does is an accident. When I am free of the cuffs, I remember her directions, and I hold still. I even keep my ankles crossed.
"Very good, sweetness," she says, as she runs her fingertips down my spine. She crosses a few sore stripes from the belt; she pauses on one, and presses into it, hard. I tense up and groan. "Sh, be still. I will bruise you if I please." She presses again. I obey and clench my teeth.
She continues the caress. I tremble as she lightly strokes my poor ass. She pauses. and pinches me. It hurts so fucking much, I have to whimper, and more tears fall to the covers. She says, " You poor thing, that's got to hurt. But we both know, you need it, right Billie Joe?"
She stands up by the bed. "Yes, Mistress," I answer. I'm just miserable and my cock is so hard, it hurts.
She lays a cool hand on my ribs, and on my hip. "I'm going to roll you over, my lovely sub. That lovely rear of yours is going to hurt when it hits the sheets, but I don't want to hear any complaining, do you understand, Billie Joe?"
"Y-yes, Mistress."
She rolls me over, and she was right, my ass burns anew at the pressure of my weight on the bed. Groaning, I try my best to hold still. I want to curl up on my side, but that would not end well for me. I clench my teeth and look up at her. "Be quiet and put your arms down at your sides, Billie Joe. You can uncross your ankles."
She climbs into the bed as I lower my arms to my sides, and then she is on top of me, straddling my stomach, but without touching me. I instinctively reach for her with both hands. She pushes them back down and holds them down as she speaks, quiet and knife sharp.
"No, put your hands down. You are going to learn self control, Billie Joe. That means you are not to move, speak, or come unless I give you permission. I'm not going to bind you, that would be too easy. You are going to have to hold yourself still. You know the rules. So follow them. This is your last chance. If you refuse to obey, then I chain you and whip you again with the belt so hard that you won't sit for a month. And I'll be so disappointed, that I'll make sure you won't come at all tonight. I'll chain you up nice and tight all night so that you won't even be able to touch yourself. Got it?"
Looking up at her during her speech, my throat tightens with fear at what she has planned for me if I can't follow the rules. I don't doubt for one second that she will follow through with this, either. Fuck, her rules are so hard to follow, and her punishment is so horrible, that I know I'm doomed. But I nod, and she slowly releases my arms, which I keep still at my sides. Unable to stop myself, I feel the tears yet again fill my eyes, and blink them out. They slide down my sweaty temples into my hair and ears. Jesus, I cry so damn much. But this is where I can cry. She allows me to cry, even more than I allow myself. So I sob and sniffle like a little kid. I'm so afraid.
She smiles, and, bending over me, kisses my cheeks gently. "Close your eyes, beautiful pet," she breathes. I obey her. She gently kisses my eyelids, my forehead, my lips. "Take a deep breath, Billie Joe," she whispers. I do as she says. I must. Eyes closed, I breathe. "Again, " she says, as she cups my cheek as if it is a precious thing. Her fingertips are so soft and cool on my hot, sweaty cheek. I breathe again, and I have stopped sobbing. "Open your eyes, Billie Joe. You can, and you will do this."
All I can do is open my eyes and nod. I just want to please her, more than anything. She pushes damp curls from my sweaty forehead.
She bends down again, and continues kissing me. She moves down to my jaw and my neck. With slow, and methodical precision, she finds and brushes every inch of my skin with her lips and teeth. Her touch is delicate, as if I would break like a fragile thing. I try to relax through it, but the way she brushes her beautiful naked body across mine to kiss my shoulder and collarbone tattoos...God. I quickly grow desperate for more. I want to feel her softness, her breasts, her hands, anything. But she keeps going with the gentle kisses. They are like little butterflies landing on my skin. I want to groan. Clutching at the covers to keep my hands still, I bite my lip to stay quiet. For once, I'm going to keep my big mouth shut. I'm going to follow the rules. I turn my face and squeeze my eyes shut.
Hovering over me on her hands and knees, she inches her way down my stomach, kissing, nibbling, caressing; all gentle, covering every inch of me, and I can make a good guess at what she's got in mind. Jesus Christ, I don't stand a chance. I curl my fingers into the covers tight and hold my breath.
"Yes, Billie Joe, you guessed it. I'm going to suck your cock, and you are not going to come, unless you want to get whipped with the belt again."
I look down my torso at her and shake my head in desperation. She laughs. "Oh, yes. You are going to learn to follow the rules, Billie Joe." She snuggles beside me, her head on my hip, and gets comfortable. She wraps one arm tight over and around my hips and grabs my beaten ass. At her touch I hitch my breath and I tense up every muscle, and then she leans over and slips her mouth over the tip of my cock, and starts to lick and suck it like it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen or tasted. Christ almighty. With tears in my eyes I tremble and claw at the blankets at her light, tormenting touch. She is methodical and takes her time, working her way up my cock and getting more and more of it in her mouth, then pulling off, only to start the torture all over again.
Fresh sweat erupts from my pores as waves of agonizing pleasure and desire flood through my body. I can't help but squirm under her, trying to get more of my raging hard-on into her hot mouth, and she stops immediately to say, "You'd better quit squirming around like a slave, Billie Joe, or you get the belt again. I mean it."
Blinking more tears that slide down the sides of my face and soak my hair with the sweat, nodding to her, I hold still, and close my eyes to think of every non-sexy thing I can imagine as she practically swallows my cock, then delicately licks it again. I think of my old third grade teacher. I think of gross food. I think of people I hate.
"Billie Joe, lift your head, open your eyes and watch me. You need to stay here with me." She has paused to look up at me, and figured out what I'm up to.
Shit, she knows me too well. Tipping my chin to my chest, I open my eyes and watch as she works my hard, aching cock in her luscious mouth. Again I'm in agony as the waves of hot pleasure threaten to take me over the edge. I gasp and whimper as I tense up every muscle in my body and clutch at the covers for dear life. God no, God no, Jesus fucking Christ...my mind is full of every possible way of swearing and cursing at my engorged cock that only wants one thing...
She stops in just the knick of time.
Sobbing, I lay my head back and squeeze more tears to fall to the sweat soaked sheets. I don't think I could last another second. Even if she only brushed my cock with her fingertips, I would explode. I almost consider saying the word so I can just come.
Almost, but no.
She is back up on her hands and knees, over me, and then she straddles me again, again without even touching me. She leans over and kisses my mouth even as I am weeping like a child. She presses her lips to mine, tenderly, and lingers for only a moment, before she pulls off and curls her fingers gently around my face like it might break. Sobbing, I press my trembling hands into the bedcovers and look at her desperately. I bite my lip. I'm determined to shut up. She looks down at me, and smiles.
"You did so well, Billie Joe, that I'm going to allow you to speak. And if I like what you say, and if I think you've been disciplined enough, you might get to come, after all."
Gasping for air, weeping, I can only manage, "Please."
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Waiting