She loves the way he strains against her stroke. The way his muscles tense in his belly, the way his inner thighs twitch not knowing whether to push forward or clamp closed, helpless to do either because of the spreader bar at his feet.
She loves the way his shoulders cord. The way he grips his seat until his knuckles go white.
The sounds he makes.
Unf.
Yes, she definitely loves the sounds he makes. The groaning whimpers, the harsh intake of breaths, the moaning pleas. Of course it’s all a bit muffled because of the gag. I’m sorry about that, she thinks, communicating with her eyes as her hands continue their torturous erotic dance over his flesh, but it couldn’t be helped.
.
She rakes her eyes over his frame, raising an eyebrow at the way he’s straining against his bindings.
“Careful now,” she admonishes with a slow smile, watching him writhe. “If you twist, they’ll only get tighter.”
Her wink at this pronouncement tells him everything he needs to know: We’re just getting started.
His cock is thick and hot in her hand. Lengthening her stroke, she varies her grip, twisting her wrist over his head with every upward slide, curving her fingers around his balls in a palming massage on the way down. She pitches her voice low in response to his gagged pleas, its subtle siren song a soothing contrast to the overwhelming waves of sensation crashing over his body. “I can feel how close you are, love.”
She feels the weight of his testicles and gives them a gentle squeeze, eliciting a whimper. “You want to cum for me,” she asks, “don’t you?”
He responds with a strangled cry.
Meeting his eyes with her own, she telegraphs what she needs. Hold out for me.
Just a few…
More…
Pumps…
AND THEN SHE LETS GO.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He stares incredulously, pumping his hips futilely into the emptiness. The warmth at the base of his spine balls tight and spreads forward. He feels his orgasm unfurling but it is not the euphoric upwelling to which he is accustomed; it is something else entirely, mildly pleasant but desperately…
Unfinished.
Normally an orgasm is a culmination. And end point. But this…
As though from outside himself, he watches as his ejaculate coats his stomach, spewing forth in hot milky ribbons. He should feel a sense of completion, but without the stimulus of her hands in those final seconds, stroking their demand against his turgid length, he feels…
Incomplete. Unfulfilled.
He’s just had release, but there is no relief. His hard-on is raging, his cock more swollen now than it was the moment before he came. The purple veins in his shaft pop against the dark red of his swollen erection. He is throbbing. Pulsing. Trying in vain to penetrate the hollow air.
His whole body is vibrating with agitated arousal. He looks at his Mistress, eyes blurred with confusion and desire.
Taking his unsoothed erection into her hands once again, mercilessly stroking and squeezing, she answers his unasked question. “Before I tied you up, you were told I would allow you to orgasm.”
He nods haltingly. His eyes are wild, his stomach hot with butterflying desire, his skin slick with sweat and semen.
“Perhaps I should clarify,” she continues, both hands now working their pleasure over his painful hard. “I said I’d let you orgasm.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t ruin it.”
.
Perfect description! I don’t know whether to think him lucky or unlucky! lol
Lucky or unlucky?
YES. 😉
Cruel, possibly a nightmare! But great writing
Or a dream come true, depending on what you kink to… 😉
I’ll add a little detail . . . I’m a giver, it’s natural for me to want to give pleasure before receiving. Am I strong enough to simply give without receiving? I don’t think so. What I was thinking after ruined was . . . I don’t really know. It was confusing. I felt turned on but scared as well. The thought of that “empty” organism, watching it splurt away without any real feeling, made me think you knew secrets about my cock that I didn’t even know . . . then I considered the times I had taken drugs or been to pissed and kept wanking or fucking to the point of boredom that when the climax eventually “came” it was more of a, “now we can sleep moment.” Is that a little bit clearer?
Well, not about your cock, specifically. But otherwise, I’d say that reaction/response is bang on. (No pun intended.) 🙂
I’ve never done anything sexual (wanking, fucking, or otherwise) “to the point of boredom,” but I get your point. And sure, you can sleep now. 😉
Thanks for commenting.
This is so devious…and so good. And so fucking good because it’s so damn devious. I love everything about this, even if I would probably HATE (and love) to be on a similar receiving end.
Kayla Lords recently posted…#NewRelease Sir and Babygirl: Forever Bound
Hehehe… 😀
That touch is something so craved so needed especially when chastised even if it does end in a ruined orgasm….the submissive learns that it is their way of life and part of what they are.
A nice read Miss
I’m glad you enjoyed it. 🙂
Ruined seems like a misnomer…..
Right?! 😉
God, yes. That pleasure/pain point is so fine, and I find that even ruined orgasms can vary. Sometimes they really HURT, sometimes they just ache with the lack of resolution. But damn, yes, I love this piece, the desperation of thrusting into nothingness. Very nice.
It is definitely a fine line — one I admittedly enjoy pushing/stretching/testing. 😉
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