Ever since I wrote that story earlier today one of the only things that I’ve been able to think about are ruined orgasms. I’m at just over 5 months of denial right now, with not even a single ruin in that time.
I’ve had this fantasy for a really long time of being broken by denial, of being kept denied until I need an orgasm so badly that I’m crying and I can’t function. Then, because I’m a total masochist, the dream is that I’d be given a forced orgasm session that was so intense I’d end up begging to be put back in denial. That those were the only options for a tease toy like me, unending relentless denial, or orgasming their brain out in between their legs. The only problem with the fantasy is that I handle denial really, really well. 5 months in and I don’t have an overwhelming desire to orgasm. I want Sir to continue denying me. Last night Sir threatened to not let me cum for the rest of the year and it was a major turn-on. I can’t help but get so aroused at the idea of Sir keeping me as his denied toy for at least a year or longer. For Sir to use my ability to handle denial well against me, telling me that he isn’t going to let me cum again until he is convinced beyond any doubt of how badly I need it. That thought makes me moan and squirm just thinking about it.
I keep thinking of what Sir can do to make the denial worse. To help me be properly overwhelmed with need as a tease toy should be. I keep thinking that a day or week of forced ruined orgasms would drive me completely up the wall. When I used to be allowed to cum sometimes being given a single orgasm wasn’t a reward, it just made the denial so much worse, there would be a little bit of satisfaction, but mostly it would just make me ache and need even more desperately than I had before. The little experience I’ve had with ruins is that they are even worse. After a ruin I wake up in the middle of the night humping my mattress, clit pulsing, so desperate for even the least bit of stimulation. I can imagine that ruin after ruin would cause me to be desperate beyond words. The thought of Sir instituting a regular schedule of ruins makes his pussy drip. The thought of knowing that a ruin was looming, looking forward to it, dreading and needing the sharp increase in desperation and arousal it would bring with it.
Another use for ruins could be to punctuate periods of no touch. Sir could disallow any touch for a few days and get me all riled up and desperate, then using his hypno controls make me have one or several ruined orgasms, without touching, and continue to leave me unable to touch. Enjoying himself immensely as I beg and plead to be permitted to do anything to ease the desperate ache. Giving him plenty of time to mold me into the tease toy that he’d like me to be for him. Getting me to beg for any opportunity to make it worse. Allowing him to develop the habits that he’d like to see in his toy. The best part of all of it being that it is a game that I can never win. No matter how much I’m willing to trade away, how much of my mind I’m willing to open to Sir, I’m trading it all for the chance to make the ache even worse. Not even begging to cum anymore, begging to suffer and be tortured by Sir. Begging for Sir to make me the most desperate and needy toy that he can. Needing nothing more than to be reduced to a mindless aching toy ready to serve.
“OK. Keep reading then. Pretend I’m not here. It’s kinkier that way anyway.”
I pulled her legs open and started playing with her pussy. She was getting nice and wet. She turned the page and pushed her glasses up her nose.
“Read aloud,” I said. As she started reading, her voice low, I lay on top of her and pushed my cock into her pussy. She kept reading, slowing. I slipped my hand onto her throat as I fucked her.
“Keep reading.”
I could feel her voice vibrating her throat against my palm. I could feel her wet pussy walls squeezing my cock. I dropped my forehead against the back of her head and came inside her. She stopped reading.
*printing this out for my husband*
Please someone do this to me. I love reading so this would be perfect
One of my fave erotic stories begins this way. Oof, that’s some shit I return to.
Of course, he’s “punished” me before, and I know I’m behind on most of the stories of spankings, denial, etc, but this was the first serious punishment. Our dynamic has gotten to a place where he’s gotten the go-ahead from me to do stuff like this, but it still hit kind of hard.
Yesterday, I’d been pushing myself really hard to get a bunch of stuff done, because Sir said if I was very good I would be able to tr out the new vibrator I bought. And, I’d done it, and I was at Pup’s place and was looking forward to that. But, I’d been goofing around, and he told me if I pushed it one more time, I would be in trouble. And, well, I pushed it.
I apologized right away, but it had ben done. “I told you if you misbehaved again you’d be in trouble,” Pup said. “You’re sleeping on the floor and you don’t get the vibrator tonight.”
“No, but,” I pouted. “But I got all my work done. And I was such a good girl today. And I said I was sorry.”
Pup agreed that I was a good girl that day, and so I earned my spot in the bed. But I wasn’t getting the vibrator and I was still being punished, which meant he gave me a talk about why I had been bad and that he expected me not to behave that way again.
While he was talking, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I got little, which was a little uncomfortable for me since that isn’t our dynamic. I wanted to cry because this was new and vulnerable and I was caught in that weird space of wanting it and hating it and being glad it was happening but also dreading the whole thing and what it implied. I went back to the first time I was punished like this – in the serious way that feels like punishment – when Elle made me hold my iPod up against my bedroom wall with my nose for five minutes. It had been so long, so unsexy that it shocked me, and the fact that the effect was a genuine punishment had made me cry that night five years ago, because I was I was alarmed that our dynamic had suddenly shifted out of playfulness and into something with consequences.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I said. “I won’t do it again.” I couldn’t stop fidgeting with my skirt. At first, he mistook my behavior for being insincere, playful, and I realize he’d never seen me be contrite in this context.
I told Sir what happened and why I wasn’t using my vibrator tonight, and he agreed that I had been a bad girl and that Pup was doing the right thing in punishing me. So there’s the downside of two doms, I realized: getting scolded twice over when I was being punished.
He had me change and get into bed with him so he could hold me. He let me talk about how I felt, and stroked my hair and told me I could cry if I wanted. “You know I’m not really angry with you. I’m punishing you, that’s all. And it’s okay and tomorrow you won’t be punished anymore. And if it’s too much today, you can turn it off. We don’t have to do this. You have the power to make this stop,” he assured me, but I told him I wanted this, and I knew that was true.
“Will you slap me, then?” I asked.
He brushed my hair from my face. “How do you ask for that?”
I averted my eyes. “Will you please slap me, Sir?”
He did, and let me suck his cock for a bit after. I made a joke about how he was already hard when I pulled him out of his pants, trying to grasp some sense of power or something in being playful that way, but it was so clearly a move for that. I felt so vulnerable – moving into this territory of our dynamic, being in that sad little punishment head – and weirdly it all made me pretty aroused.
But, when I asked him to fuck me, he refused. I huffed, and he told me I could touch myself. I rolled onto my back, sulking, with his arm still around me. As I rubbed my clit, he teased his fingers idly over my nipples. When I argued that it wasn’t fair, he told me I should try to sleep. My head was everywhere and I would feel better in the morning, he suggested, and I knew he was right.
“You’re going to break me, you know,” I said. “if you keep at stuff like this.”
He put an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “Go to sleep.”
