edging

Today, my Master has ordered me to edge myself for ten minutes straight if I can use the toy – and twenty minutes straight if I have to use my hand, since it’s less intense than the toy. During that whole time I’m to think about what she’s already told me she’s going to do to me on Friday during our date – tie me down over a stack of cushions, fuck me in the ass, and force me to cum without permission, using either the toy or – god help me – her wand.



Oh, god. What have I got myself into?



Of course I will do as she orders. I always do, to the best of my ability. But I will probably have to do it in the bathroom, where my partner won’t be a witness to it. Not because I want to hide it from him, but because what my Master orders me to do is between me and her. I will have to sit there on the toilet for twenty minutes by my stopwatch, keeping myself on the edge but not cumming.



Oh, god.



I’m hard and horny just thinking about doing it. What am I doing? Is this really my life? Am I really an owned slave in the way I always longed to be?



I’m writing this while sitting in my office and wondering what else she might do to me. A plug? A dildo? Maybe a cock gag or clamps in painful places. Maybe… oh god, she wouldn’t make me wear a plug outside of the safety of my home, would she?



Of course she would. That’s who she is.



My ass is clenching and my cock is jumping, just thinking of it. I’m sitting here with my legs open so that I don’t close them tightly and stimulate myself more. I keep imagining it already – being tied down, ass up, cock exposed because of course she’ll have tied my legs as far apart as they can be spread, a pillow or two under my head but my chest exposed and available for clamps or whatever else she wants to do to me… and then the beginning of the scene.



I can feel her fingers stroking down my cock, pulling lightly on my balls, and then up into my ass crack. Pressing at my asshole, coaxing it to relax, while I force myself to relax the rest of me, blindfolded, gagged with a cock gag that forces me to suck like a good cocksucker should, pressing my tongue down to the side.



I moan into the gag as her fingers return with lube spread on them, and jump as the cold lube trickles down my crack to fill my puckered asshole. She draws a plug down my back, and I try desperately to gauge its length and thickness, but I can’t.



Then she places its tip into my hole and begins to press. Oh, god. Oh god! Oh god!! It is relentless – she is relentless – she’s pressing it deeper and deeper into me and still it’s getting bigger and bigger. Oh, god, couldn’t she have fucked me first, to stretch me? Is this her intent, to make me feel just how huge this plug is?



I scream into the gag, but I do not spread my hands in our “safe signal.” This is hard and it’s scary and I feel so violated, but I asked for this, I fantasized this. I want this. I feel her hand caressing my flank as she pushes, pushes, pushes… my ass spreading wider and wider as I remember to bear down on the plug to open myself further.



Suddenly, I feel it slide quickly, just a short distance, and then my stretched asshole clamps around the relatively narrow neck. The base, a wide rectangle, is rotated until it rests between my cheeks, keeping them parted. I begin to sob with relief that now it’s in – the worst is over until it comes out later, whenever “later” is.



She chuckles low in her throat and leans in to whisper in my ear, “There’s my good slut. My Laddie-buck.”



Conditioned to the word, I buck my hips, and the plug shifts deliciously, painfully, torturously in my ass. I moan again, and she slaps my ass, making me jerk again.



“You will not cum, slut. Do you understand?”



I moan into the gag, nodding my head against the steel collar constraining my neck. Of course I will not cum. My orgasms belong to her when we are in scene. I know that.



She draws a heavy paddle down my lower back, resting it on my ass, over the base of the plug. “You have been good, but you need to be punished for your rebellious thoughts when I ordered you to edge yourself on Wednesday. You must remember that my needs are always your focus, not your needs. My needs, laddie, not yours. You will remember it by the time we are done here, because you will be marked with the stripes of my punishment.”



I moan again, knowing it to be true. I should not have focused on my body’s raging need to cum – and I have not cum since Monday night – but on her need to control me and know that I am hers. That is the point – her need, not mine. And instead of focusing on that, my own mental babble during that interminable twenty minutes was “god I need to cum I need to cum please let me cum, it hurts, I need it, I’m so horny,” instead of what it should have been, “thank you, Master, for allowing me to edge myself; thank you, Master, for allowing me to touch myself at all; thank you, Master, for allowing me this sublime and needed torture for your pleasure.” I steel myself to the coming beating and do my best to remember over and over that my response to every stroke must be “Thank you Master,” not “ow, that hurts!”



The first stroke lands harder than I am prepared for. I remind myself that this is a punishment, and clench my hands tightly, determined not to safeword for anything less than a panic attack. The blows rain down on my exposed ass, connecting with the base of the plug every time, and fucking me on it. Oh god, thank you, Master.



My cock twitches and throbs, as hard as I’ve ever felt it, and the tips of my nipples sting in anticipation of what she might do to them if she thinks of it. I remember the scene she started to tell me about once, with the bit between my teeth and me on my hands and knees and all those threads tied to all those clamps and to the bit… and then I suck harder on the cock to remind myself that she could still do that, and to be grateful that this is just a beating. Thank you, Master. Thank you, Master.



She hits me harder, the whack of the paddle so loud that it rings in the room. I’m sobbing into the gag and my tears are wetting the padded inside of the blindfold, but I still hold on to the important thought: Thank you, Master. Thank you, Master…



She stops and her hand suddenly probes between my legs, stroking my incredibly hard cock. I gasp in spite of myself, sucking in air through my nostrils, tensing up as her fingers manipulate its hard, reddened head. “That’s my good slave. My good slut. Don’t you dare cum, laddie.”



“Mmmoh, Mm-mrrr,” I mumble around the cock in my mouth. She understands my words – “No, Master,” – and continues to stimulate me, my hips jerking uncontrollably as she does. Just at the moment when I’m sure I’ll be forced to break my promise – unthinkable! – she removes her hand and allows me to simply buck against the ropes, the plug shifting in my ass, my cock waving in the air at nothing. I realize what I’m doing and hold myself suddenly still, forcing myself to relax, to bring my cock down to something less than agonizingly close, and breathe slowly through my nose to try to get something like self-control back.



She doesn’t allow me the time to do that. Suddenly, the crop snaps across my thighs, and I scream into the gag. God, I hate the crop! But… Thank you, Master, for allowing me this pain. At least she hasn’t gone for the already-bruised buttocks… no, stop that thought now, slave. Think about Master. Thank you, Master, for this pain, no matter where you inflict it. All for you, Master. All for you.



I’m sobbing uncontrollably by the time she finishes, and my legs are striped like fine corduroy, ridged and welted from sweet spot to knees. I pant through my nostrils as she caresses my bruised ass and welted legs, trying so hard to make her proud of me.



She leans down into my ear again. “Good boy. Good Laddie-buck.”



My hips jerk automatically at the phrase, and I cry out into the gag, as my cock jumps back to hardness with the shifting of the plug in my ass. Even as I force myself to remember to thank her in my mind, my legs try to close to just… get… a little… more… stimulation….



Then I freeze again, and sternly remind myself that that is NOT what she ordered. I must be a good boy even if I feel like it’s going to make me crazy, because she owns my orgasms, not me. Not now, not ever again. They are hers for my life when I am with her.



Her hands probe me again, fingering just the tip of my cock, and I moan in ecstasy and agony. She knows how to read me well enough by now to bring me to the edge again and then let me hang there in mid-air, hips held still by force of will. But I do not cum.



She lets me hang there for a few minutes, her hands gentling me like a good horsewoman with a fine steed, before she disappears again. I am floating alone in the world, unable to see, unable to move, spread-eagled and helpless, desperately in need of cumming… and I do not mind it because it is all for her, as it should be. I float in the void, smelling wet leather and sex, and try to relax and accept whatever is coming next.



Her hands on the plug, some indeterminate time later shock me. What is she doing? Shouldn’t this be inside me for the whole scene? I moan again as she pulls it from my ass, my ring stretching and on fire as she finally gets the large part of the plug past my sphincter and then out. She leaves the room for a moment and I hear water running. I worry that she’s going to put an enema in me – something I have a soft limit about – but she comes back with something far more diabolical. Of course, I don’t quite realize what it is at first, but then the fresh lube on my opened ass tells me I’m not going to remain unplugged for long.



I feel cold steel entering my ass, a round shape and then a long, smooth cylinder. It’s far narrower than the plug or even the dildo she usually uses on me. Then I feel the cool length of the rest of the anal hook lying between my ass cheeks, and on my tailbone. She takes my head by the hair and pulls it up until I’m facing straight forward, and pulls out the cock gag. I work my jaw for just a moment, and then I feel a wooden rod placed between my teeth. Oh, god. Oh no! I know what’s coming now.



Sure enough, the ties on either end of the rod are pulled back, back, until my mouth is forced open by the wooden bit, and then I feel her fiddling with them. When I try to lower my head a little bit, she slaps me, hard, on my already-bruised ass, and commands me to stop at once. I do, freezing in place, feeling her tie the slim cords to the end of the anal hook and pull on them until my head is held upright and there is a steady pressure in my ass. I know her plan. Every time she hits or stimulates me, if I move my head, I will fuck myself for her with the hook. Oh, god… oh god! I’m already drooling as the bit pulls at the sides of my mouth, and I wonder how I must look to her, tied as I am, helpless and penetrated and welted and bruised.



She leans down to my ear once more. “Time to be edged, slut. If you cum, I will punish you severely.” And then a vibrator I’ve never felt before is pressed to the head of my cock, and I scream as it stimulates me to a point where I cannot control it. I know she likes to force me to cum without permission, but oh god, she’s said that I better not cum, but I want it, but she said no, but it hurts, and I want it, and it hurts, and -



No, wait -



Thank you, Master, for torturing me for your pleasure. Thank you, Master, for using me for your enjoyment. Oh god, thank you, Master, but please, please, it shreds me when you don’t give me permission or command, oh god, for your pleasure, thank you Master…



I cannot help jerking my head, like a maddened horse, and the stimulation of the anal hook riding up and down inside my ass just causes me to buck my hips, which further stimulates my cock against the horrible vibrating toy. I moan against the bit, feeling every pulse of the vibrator as a separate hard stimulation, and grasp the ropes extending from my wrist cuffs to force myself to endure it. I will NOT cum, I tell myself, and I will NOT safe-signal. I will NOT. I will NOT… oh god, thank you Master, thank you, Master…



The agonizing ecstasy never seems to slow. She knows just how to back off and keep me riding the edge without climax. Every time I think I’m going over, the vibration disappears, leaving my twitching cock hanging in empty space. I try to hold myself still but find myself fucking my own ass with the jerking of my head, and just as the agony/ecstasy recedes to a nearly manageable place, the vibration begins again. I don’t know how many times she does this to me but each time is worse/better than the last. I hold on to that thought, “Thank you, Master,” for dear life as she teases, tortures, edges me over and over and over again.



Then, suddenly, it stops and the vibrator is taken away. “Laddie-buck,” comes her voice, and my instinctive reaction, moving the hook in my ass. I cry out as it does. “Laddie,” she amends her next address. “We are almost done. You have taken your punishment well. Now you may earn a reward.” As she speaks, I feel her locking new cuffs around my welted thighs, with a bar between them to keep me spread, and a similar, longer bar between my ankles. She releases the carabiners holding my ankle cuffs to the ropes, and then releases my wrists, locking them together in front of me. She pushes the blindfold up on my head, and I blink even in the dim light as my tear-reddened eyes adjust. “Come to the chair, Laddie. Crawl to me. You may yet earn a reward.” She moves away and I hear her sit in the large armchair across the room from the bed. I turn myself awkwardly on the bed, very aware of the hook in my ass and the bit in my mouth, and ease myself down onto the floor, first my hands, then one knee, then the other. I hitch myself across the room to her. The floor has never seemed so wide.



She has placed her knees on either arm of the chair, spreading herself. Her muslin skirt falls to either side of her, and her breasts draw me close, their dusky nipples hard and ready. She is holding two clover clamps in her hands, and there are two more on the table beside her. I freeze for a moment, seeing them, and then, resigned to my fate, I hitch myself so that I am kneeling between her spread legs, gazing down at the glory of her cunt.



“Kneel up, Laddie.” I do, and she affixes two of the clamps to my nipples and two more to my balls, tying them together with thin cords that I had not seen before. She tugs on them and I moan – oh god, the pain! She smiles, satisfied, and takes the bit from my teeth, jostling the hook in my ass. “Don’t move, now,” she warns, as she removes the ties from the bit and re-ties them to the collar around my neck, tighter now, pulling the hook into me again. She then loops the other cords around her hand and holds them, so that there is always tension on my balls and my nipples. I moan, but now that my mouth is free, it is obvious what she wants me to do.



I lower my mouth to her open slit and drag my tongue from its base to its top, reveling in the taste of her juices. I find her clit and begin to stimulate it with my tongue in the way she has trained me – spelling out a particular word over and over and over with the tip of my tongue, balancing on my bound hands and knees before her, every motion of my head fucking me in the ass with that hook, and her hands jerking on the cords connected to my clamps. I do my best to focus only on her, as my mouth works on her cunt, trying to make her cum and cover my face with her juices.



She clamps her legs around my head, wrapping her free hand in my hair and forcing me down even harder than I was already moving, tightening the cords in her hand so that I nearly scream into her cunt. At the vibration from my voice, she suddenly cums so hard that I am knocked off-balance, held upright on my knees only by her suddenly clenched legs on either side of my head. I gasp for breath but continue to work my tongue against her slit, for all I’m worth, fucking her hole with it and moaning into her slit. My nose brushes against her clit as I work my way up and down her cunt, trying to lick up every drop of her juices, and just from that touch, she cums again.



Her voice reaches a crescendo and the pain from the clamps is nearly intolerable, when she suddenly lets go of the cords and my hair and slumps in the seat, her cunt visibly twitching. I lap up every drop of her juices, making sure to clean her with my tongue, and then simply kneel between her relaxing legs, waiting for her to give me further orders.



After a time, she does. My face is smeared with her juices and I am still horny as fuck, but it is all for her, and now I know it. Thank you, Master, for allowing me to give you this pleasure. Thank you for honoring me with the juice of your hot, wet slit. It is all for her.



She sits up, removing her legs from my back, and smooths her skirt down. You would never know she is naked under it. She rises from the chair in one smooth motion. “Place your head on the chair, slave.” I inch forward and do so. “Your arms, too. Rest your head on your arms.” I do, feeling the hook shift in my ass. She reaches under me and gathers the cords. “And now, your reward, slut. You will cum on my command.”



A bolt of elation shoots through me at her words. I feel her pull on the cords from behind, and at the same time the pain begins to build, the vibrator is back on my cock, pressed hard and unrelentingly to the tip. I begin to buck uncontrollably, feeling the hook in my ass and the clamps pulling my nipples and balls, but the feeling of agony/ecstasy from the vibrator is more intense than either of those sensations. I cry out against my arm as I hear the blessed command: “Cum for me, fucktoy! Cum for me, you slut!” and my hips begin to jerk again, this time in a rhythm of their own, as my cock trembles and jerks and my body floods with the sweet golden sensation of finally, finally cumming.



It feels so good, so good, and then it turns painful – the agony I must pay for the ecstasy she grants me. Oh god, I knew this was going to happen, but I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about the payment I have to make for every orgasm. My cock, now completely overstimulated, jerks against the vibrator and I scream again and again into my arms. She chuckles low in her throat, and I know that despite the pain, I have pleased her greatly. All for you, Master. ALL for you. Thank you for the pain.



She finally turns off the vibrator after making sure I’ve paid for my orgasm with several minutes of overstimulation post-orgasm, and I am limp and pliable when she turns me to face her. I drop my face to her boots and kiss them with abandon, not caring how degrading it is – welcoming it, for it is all for her. She pats my head. “That’s my good laddie-buck.”



My hips buck again – oh, thank you, Master! – and I kneel before her, knowing that this is my place. I am hers. All for her. Always.



Thank you, Master. All for you.

His mind was a wreck. As he drove he began to feel his body’s reaction to the milking. He couldn’t describe it. The pressure, the aching, the tingling. If anything he wanted to cum worse than ever. Over six months. This was the first time in six months he had even seen his cum. It was utterly disheartening to see his own cum, taken. Not released in an act of ecstasy, but simply removed from him.



He wanted an orgasm. He wanted to be touched. He wanted anything. Everything and nothing. He didn’t know anymore.



He was consumed by his lust. Before he knew it he found himself getting undressed for her. The cup on the table next to the bowl, sponge and towel. The usual table was gone. Replaced by another piece of furniture. There was a post sticking straight up from the floor with a flat pieces along each side at about knee height. He’d seen it before in videos and he knew what was going to happen. He put on the blindfold.



Yet he waited. And waited. And waited. His knees began to ache as the hard floor took its toll.



After what seemed like an eternity the door opened and the clicking of her heels was the only sound. She pulled him up by the arm and backed him up to the post. She put each one of his legs on the flat pieces. He was now kneeling on it with his back against the post. She then secured his calves with plastic wrap. Then she wrapped his arms and torso, securing him to the post.



He wanted to cry when he felt her fumbling with the cage. As the weeks before she removed it, put it in the bowl and began to clean him. He responded immediately. His cock straining in its skin. He moaned softly as she took her time cleaning him. When she was done she blew on it to dry it off. He tensed as her breath coursed across his skin like a ghostly hand.



Then nothing.



“Did you like that?” she whispered in his ear.



He nodded. “Yes!”



“Should I continue?”



He nodded again. “Please!”



“Or would you rather see me?” she whispered in his other ear. “How about I show you my breasts? I know you could never take your eyes off them.”



He knew he needed to answer. Of course there was only one right answer. “I would rather see you Mistress.”



She ran her fingers through his hair. “I tell you what. I’ll give you both, but you have to give me something first.”



“Yes, Mistress. Of course.”



“Yes, Mistress. Of course Mistress. Anything for you Mistress.” she repeated, cynically and mockingly.



“You brought me a gift.” He listened as she walked across the room. “I would like it if you wanted to drink it.”



He swallowed hard. He knew there was no time to think it over. “Mistress, may I drink my gift to you?”



She walked back behind him and took off the blindfold. The cup came around him into view. His mind raced. He’d never tasted his own cum before. He wanted this to end, but she seemed determined to drag him down this dark road. He leaned forward and stuck out his tongue, dipping it in the milky liquid. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. More psychological than anything, at least it was his own. She gripped his hair with her free hand, pulling his head back.



“Don’t swallow it.” she said as she tipped the cup over into his mouth. She drizzled it in over his tongue and teeth, finally letting the last drops fall on his upper lip. He closed his mouth as she let go of his head. She walked around him and giggled. “Got milk.” She put the cup on the table. “Swish it around.”



He didn’t think about what was in his mouth, nor the cum that was on his lip. He was struck by the sight of her as he coated his mouth with his own seed. Finally, once again able to see her, that’s all that mattered right now.



“Swallow.” she waited. “Well?”



He licked his lip. “May I have more, Mistress?” He really didn’t want to, but he was hoping to please her.



“Oh, yes. Absolutely!” She reached out and ran her nails across his shaft. “Now that you’ve completed phase one, we can move on to phase two, where you can have all the cum you can handle.” She laughed.



“Phase two?”



“Well, we can’t just jump right into phase four can we? I don’t think you’re ready.”



“Phase four?”



“Yes, phase four.” She poured lube onto his aching dick and unbuttoned her blouse. It opened just enough to show that she was not wearing a bra. “Phase four is where I start off by rubbing my tits across your cock.” She rubbed the lube into his shaft and her hands. “Would you like that? Mm? Would you like to titty fuck your Mistress?”



He nodded yes.



“Of course you would. You’ve been waiting for this, right?” She placed her hands together, as if praying, and pointed her fingers at his cock. She parted her hands slightly to allow his cock to slide between them. “Then, how about a nice, wet mouth on your desperate and frustrated cock.” She kept her hands together as she slowly let them caress his member.



“Oh yes.” he hissed. She rotated her hands from up and down to sideways as she stroked him. In and out, from her fingers to her palms and back again.



“I bet you’d like that. I bet that’s all you can think about. Soft lips, parted just for you. A tongue, hot and wet, sloshing over and under your poor, aching tool.” She slowed to where she was barley moving. He moaned and quivered at her touch. “I bet you wouldn’t even mind if it was another one of my loyal pets.” He let out a guttural sound.



“What?” Her words sank in. The image in his mind of his mistress sucking him off changed dramatically. ‘Oh no! She didn’t mean?!’



“Well, you wouldn’t want another pet to lose out on his chance on getting to phase four now would you?” She sped up a bit. “Imagine how good it’s going to feel, shooting your load. Finally being free. After how long?”



“But…but, I’m not gay!” He tried to think straight. His mind competing with his cock for control of his thoughts.



She laughed as she went faster still. “Well, neither is he. I prefer the term devoted.” He bucked and groaned, quickly approaching the edge. She stopped moving, but still held him in her hands. “I mean really; if you guys were gay it wouldn’t be a test of your commitment to me now would it.”



He tried to catch his breath. ‘Wait, getting to phase four?’ He tried to regain rational control of his head. “Please Mistress. Wait.” But she didn’t. She started up again slowly.



“That’s right my dear.” She worked short strokes, concentrating at the head. “Phase four is where you get to cum, your reward. Phase three is where you prove your devotion to me. The ultimate test of loyalty. Where you earn the right to move on to phase four. Phase two is getting all the cups of cum you can swallow.” She changed to long slow strokes. Reinforcing the next sentence with pleasure. “It just that none of it will be yours.”



He cringed at the thought of drinking a cup of someone else’s cum.



“Trust me. By the time I get through with you in phase two, you’ll be eager to drink it right from the tap.” she said laughing.



His lips quivered. Partly at the thought of sucking of someone else, but more because he was getting to the edge again. “Isn’t that what this is all about? Phase four. Gaining release.” She stopped and waited for him to relax. “The climax, so to speak.”



She pushed her hands over him again and paused. “After a year of denial don’t you think you should allow yourself release?” She then, keeping her fingers still, began rubbing her palms back and forth across his head. “Would it matter whose mouth is on you?” She worked him in and out again. “Can you even remember what it was like? Don’t you want that again?”



‘A year!’ That was still six months off he thought.



He once again began shaking and bucking. His edges were coming quicker and quicker each time. She paused. “Look at me.” He looked down at her. She was on a small stool in front of him. She pulled open her blouse, exposing her breasts. Large and firm, her nipples dark and hard. “Am I not worth it?” She ran her slick hands over them. Pushing them together. She leaned in, almost touching his dripping rod with them. Her finger scooped up some of his pre-cum and she rubbed it on her nipples. “Wouldn’t you want to clean it off?”



He was nearly in tears. His eyes watering up. “Yes. Please. Yes.”



She reached out and grabbed his cock and started to squeeze and release it at the base. Then, using her other hand she palmed the head. The reaction was instant. He thrashed about on the device. He took as much as he could. “Stop. Please stop this!”



She stopped. Not because he wanted to, but because of his outburst. “You don’t tell me what to do!” she sneered. He had never heard that tone from her before. She got up, wiped off her hands and picked up her phone. After some nimble typing on her part she put it back down. She then left the room and came back with a video recorder on a tripod.



“There! I just cleared out my schedule for the remainder of the day. It’s just me and you. Trust me when I say that you’re going to regret that outburst. Secondly, by the time I get through with you, the only thing you’ll open that mouth of yours for is a big fat dick!”



She sat back down in front of him and slowly stroked him to another edge. This was going to be a night he would never forget, she would see to it.

I went about my chores through out the day, cleaning up, laundry, following up with my online Mistress, etc., but I always went back to the table where the package and jewel case lay. As if I was hoping it wasn’t true, that it would just disappear. As the day wore on I was consumed by what I had gotten into and how to get the disc back.



By dinner time I was mix of sexual and nervous energy. I tried to convince myself that she was not a psychotic whack-job looking to ruin me or worse, but only some kinky chick who was into humiliation and I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.



Finally, I opened the package. Bubble gum lace. I separated the colored jumble; a bra, panties, garter and stockings. Telling myself that she really was only a really kinky girl looking for a wild night, I slid into the outfit.



I looked at myself in the mirror and ran my hands over the fabric. Satisfied with my new look I put my cloths over them and got ready for a wild night. I still had my doubts, but the feel of the lace against my skin and the feeling I had when she was helping me at the store overrode any rational thoughts I had. I left my house hoping for the best.



I had no problems finding the house, but had to park two blocks away. I walked briskly to the house with a nervous energy quickening my pace with every step. Pausing at the front gate I took a deep breath and felt a tingle in my groin. My impulse was to turn around, but my other head told me otherwise. I opened the gate and bound up the steps. Swallowing hard as I rang the doorbell I waited. And waited and waited.



“Take off your clothes” said a voice from behind the door. I looked around and didn’t see anyone around. “Did you hear me?” I felt completely exposed. Totally dark save for the porch light that I was being bathed in at her door. I closed my eyes and prayed no one would see me as I striped down to my undies.



I stood there for what seemed like eternity. The warm evening breeze magnified the sensation of the lace undies that I was wearing. I waited and waited. I cringed every time I heard a car passing by. Just when I was certain that she was not going to let me in I heard the door open. I stepped through the door as Melissa giggled at me. “How is my pretty panty-boy tonight?” she cooed.



I blushed at the comment and my predicament. “What? Uh, fine.” I said. “Now if I can just get what I’m here for please.”



“And just what is it you came here for?” she asked, smirking. “The disk, of course.” I tersely replied.



“Awww, you’re not here for a good time?” She had a mock frown on as she tickled my rock hard cock. “Well, someone is.” I turned beet red as I looked down in astonishment at the bulge in my panties.



“Look, relax. I think what you did today was really hot. In fact I wanted to see more, but you came so quickly. Maybe we can fix that.” She flicked the head of my dick as she started walking away. “Go into the kitchen and fix me a drink and get yourself a glass of water. I have a few things to do before we get started.” she was still talking and pointing to the kitchen as she walked down the hallway. She had a baggy sweatsuit on, but she oozed sexuality as she swayed.



I did as she said and went into the kitchen and found everything I needed to make her a drink already laid out on the table along with a sliver serving tray, a glass saucer and a drinking glass. I found myself shaking as I fixed her a mojito and poured myself a glass of water. My cock was still as hard as ever poking straight out in front of me.



Was this really happening? Taking a minute out to compose myself I put the drinks on the tray and walked back out to the living room.



Melissa was already seated on cushioned chair, still in her sweats. Her raven black hair was loosely pinned up and there was a devilish gleam in her icy blue eyes. There was a cushion on the floor across from her with a small table next to it. I presented the tray to her and she took her drink. “Put the tray on the table and kneel down” she said without even looking at me.



She picked up a pad of paper and a pencil from a table next to her. I did as I was told and waited nervously and uncomfortably for her to speak.



“I think your going to have an experience you’ll never ever forget. Now I need to get to know you better so I’m going to ask you some questions first, but I’m going to need you to stroke yourself while I do. But no cumming until I say; do you understand? If you get close just stop and squeeze your balls for a while.”



Meekly I mumbled out a yes and pulled my panties down and began to slowly tease my shaft. My mind was in overdrive. What the fuck was going on? I don’t even know her; yet here I am kneeling in front of her in women’s underwear jacking off!!!!



Her questions started out simple enough. Where was I from? My occupation. Hobbies, shoe size, etc., etc. As time went on and I got hornier and hornier her questions got more personal. When I lost my virginity. Favorite body parts. Weirdest places I’ve had sex. All the while scribbling down my answers and telling me how she’d like me to stroke myself. Slower, faster, just the head, just the shaft, right hand, left hand.



The longer this went on the more I found I need to stop. I’m not sure how many times I had edged, but I guessed it was well over a dozen and it felt like I was stopping after every couple of seconds. Her questions were now completely sexual. All I could think of was trying not to cum. She was particularly interested in my postings on line and Mistress and pressed me for more.



By now I desperately wanted her permission to cum and gave her all my information, user ID’s, passwords, e-mail accounts, everything. “Oh my my you are quite the kinky panty boy aren’t you?” I nodded yes hoping she would allow me to shoot my load.



Feeling my cum beginning to well up in my balls I started begging and pleading for release. She told that she understood how frustrated I probably am and wanted to see how I smacked my balls. She told me if I was good she might let me cum soon. After a dozen or so good humiliating whacks and some giggling on her part she had me stop.



She raised her empty glass. “Go fill my drink and come back. I thinks it’s pleasure time.” She held on to the glass as I tried to take it. “When you come back I would love to see a repeat of your store visit. You can use the saucer on the tray to catch your load. However, before you begin I want you to thank me for letting you wear your sexy outfit and beg me for permission to masturbate. Plus, no matter what I say or ask of you you are only to want to jack off, this is the only way I’ll let you cum and get that pesky disk.”



I quickly got up and raced off to the kitchen. I dismissed her cryptic instructions and concentrated on wanting to cum.



I gave her the drink and knelt back down. I cleared my throat and began “Thank you very much for letting me show off my sexy undies.” I ran my hands across my bra and stockings. “Can I please stroke myself to an orgasm here? I will be sure to clean up any mess I would make.” She slid one hand down into her sweat pants and the other under her shirt. “Mmmmmm, I’d rather fuck; wouldn’t you?”



I paused in shock!! “No” I replied. Shit, shit, shit. I wanted to fuck her brains out so bad. I couldn’t believe how cunning and crafty she was turning out to be. What I didn’t know was that this was only the tip of the iceberg.



“No? You don’t want to stick your cock in my steamy hot pussy?” She brought her hand up to her mouth and began sucking on her fingers. “Mmmm, it’s really good!! Are you sure?” I nodded yes. “Maybe you’d rather have me suck your cock?”



I wanted to cry. “No, I just want to stroke myself.” My cock was throbbing and leaking like a sieve.



She started pinching her nipples through her shirt and pushing her breasts together. “How about a nice titty fuck? I seen how you were staring at them when you bought your lingerie.”



“No, I really want to jack off.” I could her the words leave my lips, but I couldn’t believe I was saying them.



Her hand went back down to her pussy as her other still rubbed her breasts. “Anal?”



“No.” I sighed in frustration of my situation, but it came across as dismissive of her advances.



“Don’t you think I’m hot?” Her voice sounded dejected as I nodded yes. “Yet, you’d prefer to kneel in front of me and jack off in lingerie than rather fuck me any way you want. Is that right?”



“Yes, please.” My God she was so hot and her sultry voice was thick with a playful and sexual tone. I wanted to bang her so bad.



“Well, I’m not sure how to take this. No one, guy or girl, has ever refused me before. I have to say I’m very hurt by this. You can jack off, but you’ll have to make this up to me. Understand?” She had a playful frown as she wagged her finger at me. I nodded yes.



I lowered my panties again and began to slowly and teasingly stroke myself for her. Moaning and groaning with pleasure I kneaded my balls with my free hand I wanted nothing more than to blow my load right now, but I fought it back. I smacked my balls a few times hoping to stave off my pending explosion. In no time though I was arching my back and my hips began thrusting, trying to match the rhythm of my hand. I tried pinching my nipples through my bra and smacking my balls again and again. It was no use. I moaned as the cum in my balls began to boil over.



Grunting as I fell forward into a doggy position, my throbbing cock pointed straight down at the plate and my face contorted as I tensed for release. My limbs began to quiver as thick jets of cum spilled onto the plate. I pumped and pumped furiously, over and over. Nearly exhausted I milked out the last drops and sat up. I scooped up the droplets off the head of my dick and rubbed it on my lips.



Once my fingers and cock were clean I picked up the plate and began slurping up the creamy rivulets that had splattered across the plate. I could see her through the plate grinning from ear to ear as I licked the plate clean. I licked my lips as I put the plate down. “Mmmmmm, so tasty. I cant get enough.”



“Oh my God!!! That was so hot! You were great!!” She was taking her hands out of pants as she spoke. “Well? Wasn’t that much better than hiding in the changing room?”



“Yes, it was awesome.” I stammered honestly. She got up, walked over to me and rubbed her sticky wet finger under my nose. “Nice, right? Perhaps I’ll let you have some one day.” she said and then bent over put one hand on her hip and started wagging her finger in front of my face. “But only if your a good panty boy.” She grabbed me by the arm, pulling me up and guided me to the front door. She picked up a jewel case from the table there and opened the door. I opened the case to check for a disk and walked out onto the porch. I froze in my tracks. Looking down all I seen were my sneakers. I spun about to an evil grin spread across Melissa’s face.



“What? You have your disk.” she chuckled. “Tell you what. Since you did such a great job tonight I’ll give you two minutes to get off my property before I call the police. I’ll be in touch. Good night, panty-stroker.”



Before I had a chance to answer the door slammed shut.



“Melissa!!!” I banged on the door. “Come on.”



“Hello, Is this the police?” she paused “There is a guy trying to break into my house.” Another pause. “Wearing? Ladies underwear.”



I slipped on my sneakers and started running to my car hoping the spare key was still hidden under the fender. My heart was pounding as I raced to my car. I only passed few cars on the way. Finally reaching my car after what seemed like miles I fumbled with the spare key, jumped into the car and raced home.



I parked in the garage and breathed a sigh of relief. Once in the house and feeling safe I started to relax, poured a drink and sat down to think things through. Reflecting on the day I remember all I set out to do was buy a pair of panties. Along the way I found myself humiliating myself in public, then in front of a complete stranger and then found myself running around town in lingerie!!! Anger replaced relief as I thought of Melissa. However, my cock started to get hard again the more I thought of her. Soon I was once again stroking myself, still in the underwear I had on all night.

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