Jean looked to her left, on the other side of her computer table, to where the scratched and cigarette-burned faux wood table waited, next to the faded floral print covered mass of her sofa.
"And after you place it there, you will stand over it and pinch and twist your nipples and make them hard and needing. And then you will lower yourself down onto the vibe without using your hands. You will impale yourself on that metal spear, and…"
Jean waited for his next message to appear.
"And the moment your wet cuntflesh touches the top of your table, you will stand up and spank your cunt again nineteen times, and then ask for permission to cum. Without letting the vibe fall, of course."
"Yes, Sir."
"Begin now."
"I don't know if I can do it without cumming, Sir. I don't want to disappoint you."
"Do as you're told. If you want to cum, that is."
"Yes, Sir. Starting now."
Jean's legs were shaking as she slowly lowered her body down while keeping her back erect, her shoulders pulled back and her tits thrust out. He hadn't ordered to do that, but she knew that it was important, and necessary. Somehow, she knew.
It seemed to take forever, and she gasped when her assflesh touched her bare heels. She reached for the keyboard. "Down now. Squeezing. Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."
"No. You will not," was his instantaneous reply. He must have had the words already typed, and was waiting for her inevitable words of weakness.
"Yes, Sir. Squeezing it out now."
Jean spread her legs as wide apart as she could. And then she closed her eyes and she bore down with all the power her abdominal muscles could summon, and she squeezed.
Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod…. I can't cum. No, I can't. No. Please… No. No. Squeeze. That's it. Oh fuck…
Jean moaned when the vibe began to slip from her cunt's grip, and when it fell free into her waiting hand – she screamed out loud. She felt so empty now. And so very much needing to cum.
"Done, Sir. Putting it on the table now."
"Good girl."
"I really need to cum."
"No. You know the rules."
"Yes, Sir. I do."
Jean scrabbled about on her hands and knees as she worked to balance the loudly buzzing metal vibe on its base. It took several attempts, but finally she had it standing upright, near the edge of the wretched little excuse for a table.
She looked fearfully at the screen while she positioned herself over the silvery missile that quivered with anticipation while her cunt dripped little dewdrops of lust onto it. But there were no more words of encouragement or additional commands. She had been told what she had to do to earn her orgasm, and she would simply have to endure it and do as she had been ordered.
Jean cupped her tits and pinched her nipples. The room swam and rippled in front of her as she dug her fingernails into her titflesh. There were no half-way or half-hearted options here. The thought of cheating and not doing as she had been instructed was such an impossibility that it never entered her mind.
He had created her and she was his to command. Obedience was not an option. It was as compelling and necessary and as inalterable part of her existence as was her beating heart.
Jean moaned as she dug her nails into her nipples and savaged them. She began her descent, being careful to align her cunt with the cum-smeared silver spear beneath her.
Closer and closer…
"Oh god, oh god. I can't. Can't cum. No. Think of something else…" she warbled to the empty room and the silent, observant words on the screen. Her labia were touching the tip now, opening up like a morning flower to let the monstrosity nestle in her slit and tease the entrance to her womb.
There. Her body was ready. She could feel the rounded tip of the vibrator nudging its way into her cunt. The harmonic waves that made her clit tingle and spark radiated to the tips of her fingers and back into her nipples, like a scream of amplified microphone feedback.
All she had to do now was lunge downwards – and impale herself.
Down, down, down… fuck me, yes, don't cum. Don't. I can't. Oh god.
Jean staggered to her feet, the metal shaft inside her seated against the entrance to her womb. She slammed the palm of her hand against her pussy – and screamed.
It was like a dam had burst. Again and again, she spanked her cunt. Jean counted the strokes out loud, her voice wracked with the pain and torment of what she was doing to herself. She heard voices in the hallway outside her door, as someone stopped to listen and wonder at the depravity that the sound of her hand smacking against her cunt and that of her anguished counting gave witness to.
By the tenth stroke, she was adding "Thank you, Sir," after she called out the stroke count. It was all she could do to remember the previous number and increment it by one. And it got harder and harder as she wavered her way towards nineteen to keep her clit from betraying her with a premature, ungranted orgasm. The combination of the vibe churning her insides and the deep, spreading pain radiating from her pussy had her on the brink of sanity and consciousness, as she struggled to fulfill his instructions.
I've got to. Can't let it out. Not yet. Where was I? Fifteen? Oh god, "SIXTEEN. THANK YOU, SIR."
She was crying now. The tears streamed down her cheeks and she swayed as the room blurred and faded. It was like she was about to die, to leave Jean's body behind, crumpled on the floor like an empty husk. Nineteen. She had to get there. Her freedom and her absolution were there. Nineteen was the pinprick of light at the end of the darkness that enveloped her in the tunnel of her existence.
Brighter, closer… I can almost touch it now. Oh god, yes. Please…
"NINETEEN. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU." She fell to her knees in front of the keyboard and moaned and typed the words while her body screamed and sang and danced.
"please may i cum now?" she pecked out on the keyboard, on the edge of consciousness now.
"NOW. Right NOW," his words came flowing back an instant later. "Give me what is mine. I want you emptied out and drained. Give me your orgasm NOW."
"thank you," she managed to type, as the blood roared in her ears and her heart trip-hammered in her chest. Jean arched her back and again started to spank her flame-red cuntflesh while at the same time she lifted up her left breast and bit down savagely on her nipple. Her orgasm ripped through her, slicing through the fog and the mist that surrounded her to set her mind on fire. Long, unintelligible syllables of poetry filled the air to mingle with the scent of her sweat-sheened and cum-streaked flesh and coalesce into a firestorm of life-consuming flames.
She wavered on the edge of existence while her body melted and burned. She could feel herself draining away, going, fading…
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Submitted by : Anonymous
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