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The Glass Half Full



SMUT Project Press




Copyright © 2018 by The Editor of SMUT Project Press


All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or distributed in any manner whatsoever, except for the use of brief quotations in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law without the prior written consent of the publisher.


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Cover design © 2018 by The Editor of SMUT Project Press



First Printing, 2018



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The Glass Half Full



"I really don't know what else to do with you," she said, her tone sweet, as always, but severe. "If you can't follow my instructions and do as I say while I'm gone, then you'll require supervision and that's all there is to it."


"So what, you're saying you got me a... what, a sitter?"


She smiled at the word. "You can think of Audrey however you like. But she is an extension of my discipline and I expect you to do what she says and to treat her with respect. Now look," she said, looking at her slim wristwatch, "she's going to be here any minute and I've got to finish getting ready, so why don't you just go and make yourself presentable."


She turned back from the closet and sat down at her vanity, slipping on her black high heels and donning a few tasteful pieces of jewelry. I couldn't believe how strict and unrelenting Sarah was being. Ever since we had moved in together she had grown more and more demanding, imposing arbitrary rules and exacting ridiculous punishments when they were broken. I couldn't believe it had gotten this way.


She had told me pretty clearly as things started getting serious between us that she had found she was a "dominant woman," but I had thought... I don't know, I guess I had thought that would mean things like holding my hands down when she rode me and pushing me around. I hadn't known she'd be so... bossy. And now this. It was true, what she said about not following her instructions, but it wasn't for lack of trying. There had been a couple slips and mistakes, I guess-- loading the dishwasher the wrong way, incorrectly folding her laundry-- but she hadn't really been upset with me until the last couple of days.


Two mornings ago she had sat down at the breakfast table while I was having my coffee, and she produced a thick-walled shot glass that she had pulled off of the espresso machine. She let it clack to the table as she set it down, let me look at it and back to her, and then she rested her hand next to it and pointed to the thin white line above the text reading 1.5 oz.


"When I return," she had said, "I want you to have this filled to this line with semen. No more, no less." I was agog, but I had learned better than to question her orders or make too much of a fuss, so I looked down at what I had ahead of me and with that she kissed me on the head and left for the day.


And I tried. I really did. It was exciting at first actually, and shortly after she left I settled down on the couch with some pornography and my trusty lubricant. I was anticipating filling the glass in three or four goes, anticipating proudly displaying my efforts when she returned, but when I came, holding my penis over the rim of the glass, I was shocked to see how little I produced. It barely filled it a fifth of the way. What's worse, as the day went on my emissions were smaller and smaller. There just wasn't time.


When she came home the glass was on the table where she had left it, about two thirds fuller than it had been that morning. I sat down in front of it at the usual time, knowing I had no more to give. I heard her come in the front door and I waited, and when she finally appeared in the kitchen I felt her look wordlessly at it sitting there. I heard the sound of her steps as she approached the table and watched her pick up the glass and hold it up to her eye level, and then she gave me a stern look before going to the sink and staring at me as she poured all my hard work down the drain.


"Come to the bedroom," she ordered, and as I followed her in she sat down on the edge of the bed and ordered me to take down my pants and underwear as she pulled up her slim, professional skirt, and then she snapped the fingers of her free hand and pointed to her pantyhosed knees. I bent over across her legs and she opened them to let my exhausted dick fall between her thighs, and then she kicked off her heels, bent across me, and slid them underneath my face. She made sure my nose and mouth were nestled into her shoes before squeezing her legs tightly back together and beginning to rub her hand in circles around my bottom.


This was the standard position for my punishments, the way she always spanked me when I had failed to do something she wanted, and I braced myself for what was coming...


The next day she said I would have the chance to try again, and again she set the shot glass on the table. My second try was more pathetic than the first, my store having been depleted from the day before, and despite masturbating four times I barely managed to fill the glass halfway.


I was nearly shaking by the time she walked in, knowing I had failed twice and that therefore my punishment would be more severe, but to my surprise she simply clicked her tongue when she saw it and shook her head a little as she walked back out of the kitchen.


When we went to bed that night I was still surprised to have avoided another punishment, another spanking at least, but when I laid down she picked up her phone and left the room to make a call. When she returned she got in with me and took up her book and read for a few minutes before saying goodnight and rolling over to sleep.


She broke the news to me shortly after we had woken up, after I had made her some coffee and she had begun getting ready to leave, that she had convinced an old friend of hers to come and supervise my efforts and to ensure that this time I would do as she said, and I was just thinking about what exactly that might mean when I heard the knock at the door.


Sarah ordered me to my knees and I watched as she stepped across the tile foyer and opened it to reveal the woman she had summoned. Audrey, as it turned out, was rather beautiful actually. As they greeted each other warmly I was struck by her bright eyes and sharp features, her height and her short, curly blonde hair. She wore nothing particularly severe, just a pair of fashionable designer jeans over her golden brown ankle boots with a smart blouse and blazer combination on top, carrying a large but reasonable handbag over her shoulder, and she glanced over me as Sarah welcomed her into the living room.


I heard Sarah's voice faintly as I waited there, knowing better than to wander in unbidden, and then finally after a few minutes I heard her call for me. She snapped and pointed to the ground at her feet as I appeared in the doorway, and I approached the couch where she and Audrey were sitting and sat down beneath them.


"He's usually quite well behaved, but it seems he needs a little extra looking after so I appreciate you coming by. Now I'll be back a little earlier than usual to get things ready for the party tonight, around 2, so it'll need to be finished by then, but I'm sure I can count on you."


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