Tag: edging

micoba:

Her orgasm was of no importance to him other than a treat she’d occasionally receive for good behaviour – or dozens of them in a row as a punishment. 

What was of value to him was a cunt that was always wet for him, always eager to receive his cock. 

A cunt that would tighten down on him with the delight of being filled after the constant, relentless edging ruined her will to defy him, resist him or even as much as prop up her own pride. 

Whatever was going on in her head wasn’t relevant and had been replaced by the primal needs her body expressed, stripped of all shame and sense of propriety, whether she was rubbing her clit against the tip of his boot or begging for him to penetrate her ass at the very small chance he’d be touching her clit for the purpose of making her explode in the white light of the release she so desperately sought.

She had become the perfect good girl for him.

eveadams01:

“Let me feel”

“Oh god Sir what if someone sees?”

“Shhhh then let then see a Man touching what is his. Now let’s see what state all that edging this afternoon has left you in”

“Oh god.”

“You didn’t clean up did you?”

“No Sir”

“Mmmm I can tell. So wet and messy. I like it. You’re doing well”

“Oh god please Sir. Oh please not there”

“Mmmmm do try to sit still baby. Control yourself. You wouldn’t want everyone to know how desperate you are not to cum now would you. Breath. Hold it back. You can do it”

“Oh god oh god please oh oh oh”

“Mmmmm good. Leave your panties down like this. Just pull down your skirt. I may wish you touch you again”

“Oh god yes Sir”

“My wet and horny little mess. Such a good girl”

denied-and-dripping:

They made her watch.

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…

…and therefore, neither would she.

denied-and-dripping:

She had performed beautifully.

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.

That was two days ago.

onedeadpoet:

At first it starts as a partnership, both of us on a quest to tease your little clit to the edge.

Pause.

Then back as the urge subsides. But soon we reach the point where you’d normally make yourself cum. Your limit reached. That’s when your hand pulls away. Our partnership ended. It’s still what you want at this point, or at least what you can endure.

But soon, even that stage passes. And yet the edging continues. This is where I like to play. I sense the shift in your body, and your mind. You’re actively trying to cum. The urge to cum shifting from a want to a need.

And yet, the methodical circling of your clit continues. Only now I add my tongue. And start to probe inside your slick and swollen walls.

You become too squirmy. Restraints are needed.

Then we continue our dance. There’s no end in sight. I wait for you to give in and accept that. It won’t be long now.

My buddy Mike submitted some gay BDSM smut for us. Yay!

thesaint-thesinner:

“Stop that. Stop it right now.” I growl, lifting my ass just enough that I’m not touching him, my eyes on his as he squirms in frustration.

“Daddy, please… Please…” He whimpers, tears slipping his eyes with the effort to hold it in. “I can’t- I don’t think- Please!”

I shut him up with a soft kiss, gentle and sweet, just so he’d calm down a little bit. And he did. Even though his cheeks are still wet with tears, silent sobs escaping his lips, he nods solemnly, putting on his brave face for me.

“Good boy.” I whisper. By this time he’s calm enough that I can start teasing him again. I pull away from my earlier position – on top of his naked body – and sit beside him on the bed, my fingertips trailing up his shaft slowly. He’s sensitive and red, every nerve so much on edge that even the slightest touch gets him ready to burst.

“Daddy!” He sobs loudly, hips bucking, and he knows the torment is nowhere near over. For the following hour, it’s just a tantalizing mixture of sensations – I tug and pinch his nipples, take soft little kitty licks at his cockhead, graze his taint with my teeth, and even rim him, always stopping just short of the point of no return. And each time he whines, shrieks, sobs, but never even considers uttering the safeword.

I know his limits, and I know when he needs me to stop. He’s a sweaty, writhing mess when I stop touching him, and it takes him a few minutes to calm down, with my fingers running through his matted hair and my lips pressing lightly to his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. Deprived of release and exhausted from the effort to hold it all in, he lets out painful wails when I lock his chastity cage in place, and I do feel sorry for him. I do. But he needs to learn his lesson, and today is the last day of his punishment. Tomorrow, I’ll make it up to my brave little sub. Not tonight.

Tonight, as soon as his cage is locked, what he gets is a shower with Daddy, my arms wrapped securely around his waist to help him stand up on shaky legs. When we’re both clean and he’s calmed down considerably, I’m more than happy to wrap him up in a towel, scoop him up in my arms, and carry him to bed. I know he’s upset, frustrated, and exhausted, and I also know I’m the one who inflicted all of this on him. But tonight, all I can do is hold him to sleep.

Judging by the way he clings to me, it seems like a pretty good deal.

femsubdenial:

mindlessdenial:

denied-and-dripping:

At first, the hours of teasing and edging had been unbearable. Hour after hour of being brought to the edge and denied. She had screamed and cried and begged at first, completely certain that this was the worst torture that could be concocted by a human mind. But she had only begun to suffer.

After sharp, cruel edges at the hands of a variety of vibrators, she was subjected to longer, sustained edges. Gentle teases with feathers or tongues that made her pussy weep endlessly. She howled and tried to struggle away from whatever was torturing her as the minutes crept past into hours, but the result was always the same: she would be roughly gagged and strapped down even tighter until there was no way for her to move her hips away from the torture. Nothing she could do but take it.

As the days turned into weeks, she began to lose hope of escape. She’d been snatched out of her own apartment two days into her vacation… for at least twelve days, nobody had even noticed she was missing. Even as the sun rose on her third week as a captive, she was certain that the trail was too cold for anyone to follow. Her desire to escape, while primal and strong, was beginning to wane in the face of obvious hopelessness.

Then came the enforced chastity. Her pussy was locked away in a steel belt and padlocked. Out of reach. She was uncuffed for long periods and left in a small, dark room. This was almost worse than the torments she’d been enduring at the hands of feathers, tongues and vibrators. To be unrestrained, and yet still not free. After a week of this, she was almost delirious with need. Her captor’s response was to come in and gag her before leaving.

The next tortures were far worse for her. She was chained to the wall, her head bolted in place to where she couldn’t even twist it from side to side, and forced to watch other girls being fucked. Some were tied down and forced to cum over and over again. Others were roughly fucked by multiple male partners. Some were simply put in front of her and handed a vibrator. But through all of it, through the dozens of orgasms she witnessed, all she received was a feather dancing on her clit to keep her company.

But this was different. She had been led from her cell and strapped down to a familiar bondage table. Immediately she began to panic, the remaining shreds of her will fighting against her position. Her captor had none of it, bolting her in place and clamping a tight gag through her teeth to stifle her screams of protest. He patted her cheek before moving over to a push cart of implements, returning with a vibrator. 

He stuffed it into her cunt without preamble. After six weeks of continuous orgasm denial, she was wet enough not to need one. She moaned like a whore at the intrusion. He didn’t turn it on. She howled into her gag in rage, struggling against her bondage. It did nothing, to him or to her situation. Instead, he patted her cheek and set up another device – this one balanced on a pedestal between her legs. A long probe rested at one end and was aligned with her clit. She watched it warily as he set it up, and then picked up a switch and gave it a push.

The probe jumped forward a few inches, making contact with her swollen clit. Her world exploded with the tingling and crackling of electricity. She screamed bloody murder into the gag, which reduced it to pitiful whimpering. He chuckled and set another apparatus in place, this one looking like a tiny claw which dangled above her clit. When he tested this device, it reached down and gave the sensitive little nub a tweak… a tweak with ice cold metal prongs. The electricity and the ice were torture. She tried to writhe. Tried to escape. But there was no way to move her pussy away from the torture it was experiencing.

Now he turned on the vibrator – all the way to maximum. Her pussy seemed to ignite with sensations, the buzzing almost going right through her. She screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure as the toy drove her right to the edge of orgasm…

…only for the electrical probe and claw to back her down again.

It was too much. She started begging. Pleading through her gag. She couldn’t take it. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she tossed her head from side to side, desperate for relief. Her captor watched her, saying absolutely nothing. He stood there for ages. For what could have been hours, before he leaned down with cold malice in his eyes.

“Enjoy the next twenty-four hours,” he said. “If you’re not a dripping, sex-starved slut by then… well… I’ll have to start torturing you for real.” Without waiting to see if she understood, or to witness her shocked reaction, he turned on his heel and walked away. With a flick of his fingers, he killed the lights and left her to the mercy of the machines. 

Twenty four hours? She would die! It had to have been at least a few. He’d been standing there, watching her suffer, for what had seemed like forever. She tossed her head back and forth… and then she saw it. 

Hanging on the wall, the only thing glowing in her dark prison, was a digital timer. As soon as she saw it, she let out a scream which could be heard all the way down the hallway to where her captor stood. For what was printed on the sign made the torture her pussy was enduring worse than anything else. And as her world spiraled away into nothingness, her mind shattering under the constant edging and electrical stimulation, the dim light continued to shine despite her tortured screams and begging.

23:47 REMAINING

(a special gift for @mindlessdenial)

……..THIS IS THE HOTTEST CAPTION I’VE READ IN MY LIFE. I’M GOING OUT OF MY MIND NOT BEING ABLE TO TOUCH, LET ALONE CUM TO IT. I WISH THIS COULD HAPPEN TO ME FOR REAL. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. 😀

I wonder if I could find or make a clock or timer online that allowed for time-distortion mindfucks e.g. each “minute” would actually take a random 50 to 200 seconds. 🙂

onedeadpoet:

Nice and slow. Over and again. No stopping In sight as your pleas become more desperate. I ignore them again and consider the gag.

This is why you’ve come to me, because you know you can’t control yourself as much as you need. You crave having the power to orgasm taken away. The thought of having someone push you far beyond what you do to yourself became too great. Seeing how wet you were when you entered proved that. It was beyond obvious. I was pleased that it appeared you followed directions of a week of edging without cumming followed by three days of no-touch prior to seeing me.

But you had no idea it would be this bad. That I could be this ruthless. You thought maybe MAYBE an hour. But here we are, passing that milestone two hours ago. Now it takes just three gentle circles of your clit before your clenching comes in quick succession signaling your impending orgasm, clear juices leaking out as you’re left on the cusp yet again, the pleasure nearly unbearable. But wanting more so badly, yet also wanting it to stop. Cumming, stopping, either one but please choose! Of course there is a third option: more.

You recall I said I’d take it easy on you at first. I didn’t want to break you right away. You didn’t quite understand what that meant, but you’re beginning to.

Once the stimulation begins, all thoughts melt away and your body tenses, thighs clenching, breath stopping and eyes rolling back. You know you’re my slutty marionette and are no longer in control of your body. What was once voluntary has become involuntary. Your body is mine and I want it to dance like this for longer. You can take it.

I whisper in your ear, never stopping, how good it would feel if I kept this up and let that orgasm spill over you. I want you focused on the massive orgasm that just continues to build within you like a Tsunami. It’s out there, and building in strength. Can you feel it?

I stop yet again. Fleeting clarity returns. If this is “taking it easy”, what does “normal” look like?

You gasp and that thought is removed as my slick fingers continue their assault anew, the pleasure coming in waves again.

onedeadpoet:

You can expect a few hours of this. If your clit continues to twitch on the brink of cumming then I’m entertained.

Then we move to another brush. I only have 10 and I want to see which one(s) drive you the most insane. A few hour sample size is the only way to be absolutely sure. Now stop wiggling and let me get back to scienceing the fuck out of you.