Holy fuck. Still cautious (but very turned on), he twists even harder at that reaction. "Y-you like," a breath, "You like when I touch you like this. Don't you, slut." 

"Yes sir—please—"

He twists a little harder. "Please what, toy? Tell me," a breath. "tell me what you want." 

"Thank you sir—please," tiny shiver, "twist my nipples harder?"

Fuck. He does so, watching her reaction. He does have other plans, but right now they mostly seem to be superseded by groping her tits and hurting her and watching her moan and squirm and shiver. Still (mostly) cautious, he twists even harder. 

"Thank you sir," she breathes rapturously.

He is so turned on right now, and his cock is rock hard. He doesn't want a repeat of the accident from before, but also he doesn't want to cum just yet? He has so many plans! He lets go, finally, and takes deep breaths, trying to resist the urge to touch himself, because if he does he is almost certainly going to cum. "Fuck... I... kneel." he says the last word with the full force of confidence, and tries to get ahold of himself. (He's not sure he's succeeding.) 

Near-instantly, she's on her knees, looking up at him with that wide-eyed reverence that seems to come over her at moments like this.

He needs to have more self-control than this. He needs to. Parts of him practically scream for him to tell her to unzip him and swallow his cum, or just touch himself, but he doesn't want to. The way she's looking up at him is not helping, though. But he has to be the controlling/confident man she wants so much. He closes his eyes and breathes and tries to get ahold of himself some more, shaking a little, feeling stretched in far too many ways.

"...do I sense turmoil?" she says tenatively, in normal-voice and not overwhelmed-by-his-power-voice.

On the one hand, telling her what's wrong seems absolutely anathema right now, completely and utterly, he needs to be the right kind of person here and be in control to enjoy what they are doing to the fullest. 

On the other hand, she's asked that question a number of times before, and always wanted the true answer, and he has a pattern of answering when she asks like that. 

He makes a high-pitched indecision noise for several seconds and then all in one breath, "I want to put you under the desk and have you wait that was the plan but also I'm really really turned on and don't want to have an accident and you could suck me off but then we wouldn't do the under desk things and I don't know what to do." He closes and eyes and winces. One bit of good news: telling her all of that has made him be less turned on. (Only less, though. All it takes is a memory of the fact that she's looking up at him like that or what it felt like twisting and feeling her enjoy it and he's still pretty hard. And it's hard not to think about those things at the moment.) 

"We will have plenty of opportunity to put me under your desk," she says. "We'll probably even have multiple opportunities tonight. I see no problem with you deciding to use my mouth right now."

She has a point, but also some part of him feels bad that she's making the offer and it's not him telling her to do it. This isn't how it's supposed to go, and because that's not how it's supposed to go, he's doing it wrong and not going to enjoy it properly. He squirms for a moment, trying to think of how to deal with it, and hits on an idea, maybe. "You.. you want," he bites his lip, forces himself into the proper mindset, and tries again. "Sounds like you just really want to" fuck is really saying that well too late he can't stop now "suck my cock, slut." he says. And cracks his eyes open to see how she's reacting. 

Still maybe a little concerned for him, but, also, drawn inevitably into biting her lip and staring up at him like he holds the secrets of the universe in his hand or possibly his penis. "Yes sir," she says, with a tiny squirm. "Please?"

Something still doesn't feel quite right but this is how things are supposed to go, so, "tell me how much you want it, toy," he says, smirking a little bit at her, and shifting forward so she can see the bulge in his pants. (Smaller than he'd like it to be, but hearing her beg should help.) 

That there sure is a naked girl kneeling at his feet looking yearningly up at his crotch and saying, "please, sir, may I suck your cock? Please—please use your toy however you want?"

Yup, that definitely helps. (Right?) "Unzip my pants," he tells her, leaning forward further to make it easier, "and tell me how much you want it. Tell me, tell me, um, tell what you want to do with it." He winces a little. Lost the voice for a moment there. He wants to do this right. 

She unzips his pants, carefully, trying not to start touching him because she doesn't want to test her ability to stop.

"Please, sir," she whispers, her gaze magnetized to his crotch, "I want to suck your cock. Please, I want to gag on it. Please, I want to swallow it all the way down my throat. Please, sir, please use my mouth, please make me gag on your cock."

Yup. Yup, that's the stuff. He was flagging a little bit before for some reason, but he's hard now. "I like when you talk like that, slut," he says. "I like hearing you beg for it." Pants unzipped, he shifts to pull them down a little more for easier access. "I..." part of him wants to make her beg for it more, since that's how it should go and also because he wants to be even harder. The rest of him... "suck, slut. Suck on my cock, g-- oh, fuck," he says, voice swapping back to normal as he reacts to the feeling of her mouth on him. 

She barely gives herself time for a rapid, heartfelt "thankyousir", delivered en route, before she's swallowing him as deep as he'll go and gagging and trying to do useful things with her tongue and blissing out as her eyes fill with tears.

"Fuck that feels good," he says as he feels the tip of his cock slide deep into her mouth and throat. He arches and moans, pushing his cock further into her face. She's into him (she's so into him) and she's going to be his and she's swallowing his cock like... like there's nothing on earth she wants more (there might not be) and he pushes whatever bits of unsettled thoughts he has aside and focuses on that. "You're going to be mine," he tells her, "My slut, my toy, my slave. Fuck, you're going to be mine." He's very close now, but not quite there yet. 

She tries to make emphatic agreement noises and chokes on them and chokes on him and loves it.

He can't understand what she's saying but he can understand what she means and how she's trying despite having a cock lodged in her throat and that's enough to push him over the edge. "Mine," he says again, as he does so, groaning a little as he fills her mouth and throat, feeling her tongue lap at him. This is really hot. This is really hot. It is. 

She has Learned Things and also has a better angle here than she did last time, and is successful at all three of 'swallowing', 'not overstimulating him', and 'breathing'! She is such a good desk toy.

That's very good because John is a bit distracted at the moment, and has (for the moment) forgotten about the troubles of last time. (That said last time was at a much worse angle.) Instead he enjoys the sensation of his... his slave-to-be, his toy, sucking up his cum and licking him clean. It's a very good sensation. It's starting to get to be a lot, but it's not too much yet and he wants to enjoy every second of it he can. Because that's how this is supposed to work. The cute slave (or slave-in-waiting anyways), kneeling at her owner/Master/Master-to-be's feet, sucking and licking him clean after swallowing his load. That's what he wants, and that's what he's getting, and he's glad about that. He is. (Something still feels weird, but he's mostly managing to ignore it.)