True to form, when Alouette came home I sobbed my heart out to her about how much I love her and how turned on I am. I didn’t fly to her because I fumbled one of my crutches. She came to sit on the arm of my chair and hold me and kiss me. She fetched my collar and made me feel safe and loved for when Master got home. ♥
After dinner we played with toys. Master had me lift up my skirt and, with some probing and teasing, put one of our butt plugs into me. Not one of the harsh one. An “easy” one. They gave me our magic wand, Nemesis:
And had me play with her. But no touching my pussy. The attention to be on my butt plug, pressing Nemesis into the base of that. Feeling the vibration rippling through it. What that does, definitely enough sensation to cum. Definitely.
“Is it hard, Princess?”
It is. Of course it is.
“Tell me this isn’t enough to make you cum. That will help.”
Ugh, help.
I told them, desperately:
“This isn’t enough to make me cum.” “This isn’t enough to make me cum.” “This isn’t enough to make me cum.”
Trying to convince them and me.
I tried to breathe slow and even, to just feel the rhythm of the words, to let that carry me away from the sensations that are making me tense all my stomach muscles to resist, that are making me curl up into a ball until Alouette lifts my chin up to face Master. Away from the sensations that are making my breath get shorter and shorter, my voice get squeakier and screamier.
And what did I feel? I wanted to not want to, that would be easier. But no. I wanted an orgasm so much and it was so close. I felt it gathering force, electric spasms in my thighs, felt it like cruel fingers tormenting the soles of my feet, my heart racing, my pussy clenching with the need to something to touch it, to fill it. So wet. So much. I wanted to not want to but I burned for an orgasm.
All the more so because knowing they love to see me struggle so turns me on. And she twisted her hand in my hair so I couldn’t look away from him. Couldn’t not see how much he was enjoying me trying so hard for them.
Trying not to only made me want it more and forced me to try harder which only made me go back around that circle again until I was whining and screaming and crying with frustration and still trying to repeat for them as clearly as I can:
“This isn’t enough to make me cum.” “This isn’t enough to make me cum.” “This isn’t enough to make me cum.”
But it was. I knew it. They knew it. I could see it in their eyes. Their smiles. I could feel it in the way Alouette kissed my cheek and shushed me when I sobbed. We knew.
Master took Nemesis out of my hand and switched her off. He told me it’s okay to stop. “I know you don’t want to,” the love in his eyes, and in her eyes too made me feel like I was trying to breathe glass. My chest hurt. “Good girl.”
They kissed me and held my clawing hands away. They stroked me and I burrowed my head into his chest and sobbed helplessly for the need I want to not have but love to feel and for the orgasm I get so turned on not to have.
When they slipped their hands under my dress to feel how very wet this made me, it was almost enough. But I’d already slipped back away from the abyss. Almost is enough to make me shudder. Almost is enough to make me shed tears. Almost is enough to make me curse like a sailor. But almost is still only almost.
Making love afterwards was a release. Alouette leading me down to share kisses and Master’s cock with her. Master and I kissing our way down her body to reach her. To make her cum and me see rainbow colours. Their orgasms aren’t mine. But… almost. Almost.
I deny @amysubmits orgasms at random intervals to confuse her expectations. On very rare occasions I’ll let her cum on the first ask. And on other rare occasions I won’t allow her to cum for several days. I don’t want her to anticipate and prepare for my denial. I want her emotionally invested in cumming before I deny her.
I don’t demand that Amy instantly cum on command. But when she asks to cum she is required be very close to already cumming. If I give her permission and she fails to cum within a certain short period of time she has violated a rule. Rule violations require severe spankings in our relationship. I want her truly on the edge of cumming when I deny her.
As I edge her closer and closer to more and more powerful would-be orgasms, The stakes of the temptation are increased. She could feel incredible pleasure if she just didn’t listen to my instructions.
She submits and eventually I allow her to cum. She shakes, screams and ridiculously flails her arms about as she deals with her orgasm . Every time we reinforce the lesson that the highest levels of pleasure she will feel is in submission to me.
That was the most unbearable part of the whole ordeal. The joint-wrenching bondage eventually gave way to a dull ache. Their relentless assault on her bared soles with everything from feathers to fingernails made her thrash and shriek, but she could survive it.
But being forced to watch her captor spreading her pussy lips apart so he could slowly dance a feather over her engorged clit? It was far too much. She thrashed and squirmed, begged and cried… But every day, like clockwork, he came in and began teasing her clit. Sometimes it was with a feather. Other times he used a pinpoint vibrator. Still others he spread her apart and slowly licked and sucked the little bud until she had tears pouring down her face.
But he never let her cum. Even as she bawled her eyes out for mercy, her sopping cunt dripping into her face, all he did was smile and pay her cheek before saying, quite simply, “Maybe tomorrow.”
That had been weeks ago. Her pussy had swollen and was constantly dripping. Her mind could barely fathom anything beyond her desperate need for an orgasm… And she was starting to think that “tomorrow” would never come…
From now on, your body and orgasms are MINE to control. I will limit you. Restrain you. Torment and edge you to the screaming brink… all so that you’re constantly vibrating with intense need and frustration. Why? Why not, slut? You’re mine to do with as I see fit. That’s my cunt between your legs. And if I say it never cums again, then it never cums again. Simple as that.
When she sucked his cock, at first it had repulsed her to have him spray his seed on her face. He told her it was how he marked his property. She called it disgusting. Her punishment was to be locked in the belt and assfucked like a cheap whore. She’d screamed and cried, begging him for mercy. Choking out apologies. His response had been to pull out, spin her around, and cum on her face again.
That had been a year ago.
The first time he’d shared her with his friends, she had been horrified and shocked. She’d still been in the belt – her pussy untouched since that fateful day – and for a moment she had a perverse moment of delight. If she was shared, he’d be unlocking her… right? Instead, she’d been bent over an end table and assfucked again… but this time it was while someone else roughly fucked her mouth while holding her hair.
She’d choked and gagged. Begged for mercy. Begged to have the belt taken off so she could cum. Instead, they all came on her face and across her back and ass. They covered her with several loads of cum before tying her to the table and leaving her there. Every now and then, someone would come over and fuck her mouth or ass again. As depraved as it was, it turned her on. Her pussy dripped through the belt at the stimulation.
That had been nine months ago.
Her first edging session had, at first, seemed like heaven. After so long in the belt, it was a relief to have it taken off for something other than a cleaning. But instead of mercy, she was strapped down to a table and edged until she was bawling her eyes out. Her pussy juices had made a puddle on the tabletop when he finally relented after hours and hours of torture. He’d run his hand through it and wiped it on her face before gagging her and taking her ass again.
This became the norm. Three times a week – sometimes more – she was tied down and edged until her pussy seemed to swell and encompass her entire world. Nothing she did could take her mind off her burning need to cum. Even when he clamped her tits, or flogged her, it seemed to stoke that fire in her pussy even more.
That had been six months ago.
She met his new mistress one night. At first, her mind reeled at the implications. But before she could think too much of it, he’d shoved her on the bed and tied her there. His new girl – a young teen named Kylie – rode her mouth for several hours and came gratuitously on her face. Her Master fucked her ass, and then fucked Kylie right above her. She screamed and begged for an orgasm. For anything. Instead, her Master shoved Kylie’s used panties in her mouth and tied them in with her leggings while he continued to fuck her.
They slept next to their chaste, horny slave that night. Several times they awoke and fucked like bunnies next to her while she could only sob in tortured agony. Midway through the night, her Master had clamped her tits and hooked her up to an e-stim unit that shocked her randomly for the rest of the night. It had turned Kylie on so much to watch her scream that they’d ended up fucking over her face again.
That had been three months ago.
While she knelt on all fours and hungrily devoured Kylie’s pussy like the obedient, mindless fucktoy she’d become, her Master pulled her away and shoved her against the wall. Kylie played with her clit while she was brutally fucked against the wall like a two dollar whore. She was so grateful for the attention – the first time she’d been penetrated since he’d brought Kylie home – that she found herself on the edge. She started begging to cum, desperate.
“If you cum, you’re going to be locked up for twice as long. Two years. No relief except edging sessions. You’ll serve me… and Kylie… and anyone else I bring in. Whenever. Wherever.”
She nodded, babbling incoherently. She’d do anything. Anything to tip over that edge. “YES!” she screamed at last. “FUCK! GOD, ANYTHING! JUST MAKE ME CUM!!”
“Then cum, slut. And accept your fate,” he growled in her ear.
As soon as she tipped over the edge, a scream tearing at her throat, he pulled his cock roughly from her ass. The scream of pleasure turned into a wail of disbelief and misery as she collapsed to the ground, shrieking in tortured agony and pawing at the belt. Her pussy spasmed emptily inside the metal prison, leaking profusely as the ruined orgasm tore through her.
Her Master laughed, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to look at him. “Two years, slut,” he said, shaking her roughly before he forced her tear-streaked face down onto his cock. “Enjoy them, whore. Because I’m going to enjoy making you suffer.”
As she gagged and choked on his cock though her tears, she caught sight of Kylie sitting in the chair behind him. Her legs were thrown over the arms and she was furiously rubbing her clit, the fingers of her other hand pounding in and out of her cunt as she jerked and twitched in a powerful orgasm. The slave sobbed mindlessly, her mouth reflexively sucking off her Master, even as she came to the realization that orgasms were a thing of the past to her. She would spend the next two years in a tortured haze of orgasm denial. 730 days of pure agony with no way out and no mercy.
It’s not about getting you wet (or even wetter, I should say), it’s about making your cunt and yourself so hungry for cock that your brain just acts and reacts like that of an animal on heat.
my corner 