Pursuant to my previous post, Belle now says I will lose “privileges” if my performance is sub-par. Still feels a little squishy, but I’m guessing she’ll be judging how I well I’m completing certain tasks and, at some point, there’ll be an accounting. Kinda gets into that whole “how do you punish a masochist” quandary, but I’m sure we can come up with some ideas.
Yesterday evening, I asked if I could suggest something. According to the Covenant, I can’t ask for sex, so this was my way of asking her for permission to break the rules a little. She said it was OK so I suggested, since she’s such a big fan of the cock, that she let it out for a little while so she could ride it to orgasm. We’re now fairly certain my last orgasm was on 4/26, about two and a half weeks ago, so I’m not so far gone that I’m trying to find any way I can to come, but the idea of getting the dick wet is very appealing to me. My desire to pleasure her is rising and I can’t think of any more intense way to do that than penetrative intercourse. Anyway, she said she’d take it under advisement.
Later in the evening, as we lay in bed and she was instructing me where and how she wanted to be stroked and petted (affectionately, pleasantly, non-sexually), she said I would be allowed to pleasure her. In fact, she was going to give me free reign to make her come in any way I wanted…
…as long as I kept the device locked to the meat.
The cruelty of this flipped over in my chest again and again as my fevered brain tried to find the loophole that wasn’t there. I removed our clothes and mounted her as if I wasn’t locked and the feeling of her skin against mine, all up and down our bodies, instantly flooded me with the desire to fuck her. Yes, of course I wanted to do that anyway, but when you’re locked and denied and know you can’t fuck your sexual desire becomes free-floating and abstract (which is how it attaches to things like body service, housework, and her orgasms). Now, in this familiar position with a brick-hard yet trapped erection, I wanted to, very specifically, fuck her living brains out. I pressed the tube of the CB6K to her open snatch, feeling her wet heat through the little bubble of flesh that presses out of the slot in the end yet totally unable to feel anything else except intense pressure. I rubbed the tube against her clit, making it wet with her juices. I wanted to grind it into her, but feared the lock and protrusion of the posts would hurt her. Regardless, my hips moved on their own as if I was entering her. This was the first time I had ever been in that position, making those motions yet receiving no physical sensation. I nearly swooned from the intensity of my arousal. The desire to bite her was hard to contain.
I finally backed off and buried my face in her pussy. I licked, lapped, and sucked her soft, wet folds until the entire lower half of my face was covered in her juices and they were running down my chin. Then, I moved my mouth up to her tits and used my fingers down below. I fucked her with one, two, then three fingers while she spread her legs wider and wider, wanting to feel more and more of my hand inside her. She lay there, on the brink of ecstasy and milking every bit of pleasure she could from what I was doing, while my balls were made painfully tight by the plastic cage pulling up and away from my body by its swollen prisoner.
She came hard over several minutes, then just laid there, eyes closed, face turned away from me, basking. I remained on top of her, vibrating with desire for her and wishing, now more ever before, that she’d let me fuck her with a strap-on. I know she’d like it. I know she would. And being so close to the mindfuck that chastised intercourse would be reinforced to me how much I’d like it. All I can imagine is she’s denying us this in order to deny me the sensation. I know she’s got a thing against objects in our lovemaking, but she felt the same way before the vibrator showed up and now she loves it. She’d love the strap-on after she tried it, too. I know I’m not supposed to lobby about such things – that she’s in total control of our sex – but, goddammit, I’m lobbying hard for this. She’ll have to punish me to shut me up. It just seems so obvious to me.
When it was all done and I was spooning into her, feeling the lust within me devour itself yet again, she said she might let me come sometime around Memorial Day. That’d be pretty close to a solid month since the last time and the longest she’s made me wait to date. If she keeps me locked up until then, that would also be close to a record. The fucked up part is me thinking that Memorial Day is dangerously close to the end of the month. The competitive, obsessive part of me wants to see what it’d be like not to come for a whole month – to sail through May without any kind of orgasmic release and to be locked up for four solid weeks. The remaining 98% of me, though, thinks that’s insanity and wishes it could figure out how to kick the ass of that annoying, overachieving 2% dickwad.