A Long Way to Go

It had been a week now since my Master told me an orgasm will only be granted to me once a year from now on. It didn't exactly come as the biggest surprise--that's how long I had to wait for three of my last four.

But actually hearing him confirm it has

done

something to me. I've been overflowing with both desperate horniness and ebullient happiness. Nothing feels better, nothing turns me on more, than being denied by him.

Something else has been happening too. I've been feeling even more submissive and focused on pleasing my Master than I usually am. The thing is I

do

want to cum, I want to cum

desperately,

and to want it so badly and be giving it up

just to please him

feels like the ultimate level of submission to me. So to hear him tell me that my denial is going to be enforced so strictly, nothing could make me feel more submissive than that. And when I feel incredibly submissive I'm a much better slave for him.

When he called me today and said he wanted to see me tonight, I was ecstatic. I hadn't seen him since the day he'd told me it's going to be another six months until I cum, and I've missed him. I didn't know what he had planned tonight. I just knew I wasn't going to be getting any pleasure.

Getting ready to go to his apartment, I tried even harder to make myself look sexy for him than I usually did. I always wanted to look nice for him, but with the way the denial was making me feel, it felt even more important than usual. I put on a very tight dark-blue velveteen dress that was just

barely

long enough to not be indecent, a white see-through thong and a matching lacy white pushup bra, my lacy red garter belt, black stockings with lacy tops and seams up the back, and a pair of shiny red heels my Master loves. I topped it off with bright red lipstick. I'd just gotten this shade, and seeing myself putting it on in the bathroom mirror, all I could think was "Your slut's lips would look so good wrapped around your cock this way, Sir."

On the bus riding over to his apartment, all I could think about was sex. I kept thinking about a time I told him how I often get horny riding the bus cos I have nothing to do to occupy my mind so I start thinking about sex, and he said maybe he should handcuff me to a railing on the bus and make me give head to any man who wanted it. I wondered if any of the men on the bus right now were thinking about fucking me, seeing me dressed the way I was.

I pressed his buzzer. I always had to resist the urge to kneel right there outside his building while I was waiting for him to come down to let me in. It just felt like it would be right, waiting for him that way.

He opened the door. My pussy throbbed at the first sight of him just like it always did. He definitely hadn't put as much effort into being sexy as I had but he didn't have to. Even just seeing him in a tight pair of black jeans (his thin legs looked so damn good in tight jeans) and a striped t-shirt turned me on out of my mind.

He took a slow look down my body and smiled. I knew he must think I looked sexy and it made me so happy to be pleasing him with what I'd put on.

As soon as he'd closed the door to his apartment once we were inside he said, "On your knees, slave." I immediately dropped to them. I felt so subby now from the combination of being given a direct order by him, being on my knees and, especially, hearing him address me as "slave"--just hearing him call me that was always enough to put me in a low-level subspace.

"I'm sure you must have been thinking a lot about what I told you last time," he said. "I know that was big news for you."

"It's been all your slut has been thinking about," I told him honestly.

"And how has thinking about it been making you feel?"

"So incredibly happy! And so incredibly horny! You know nothing makes your slut happier than being denied by you. Knowing she'll only get to cum once a year feels so wonderful!"

"Excellent. I'm glad you're in such a positive place about your denial right now."

"There's something funny though, Sir. Knowing your slut still has another six months to go until she cums has her so turned on that she wants to cum

right now!

Even though the whole thing making her so turned on is knowing she won't be for such a long time! Denial really makes no sense sometimes."

"Brains are strange things," he said. "But as long as you

don't

actually cum before I give you permission it's fine for you to want to."

"Your slut would stop loving denial so much if she didn't want to cum so much all the time. It's wanting it so much and not being able to have it that makes it feel so good."

"You've come such a long way, you know," he said. "You fought against your denial so hard in the beginning. I'm very proud of you for embracing it like you have now. It shows that you know I always know what's best for you."

"Yes Sir! Your slut does know!"

He changed the subject then. "That's an awfully slutty outfit you put on for me tonight."

"Knowing she'll only be cumming once a year makes your slut feel so much more submissive, so she wants to do more to please you. And being as sexy for you as possible is part of pleasing you."

"Yes, it certainly is. I particularly like that new lipstick of yours. I don't think you possibly could've picked a sluttier shade of red."

"That's exactly why your slut picked it. She wants to be a slut. She wants to be

your

slut, Sir."

"You

are

my slut." He paused. "When I see your lips with that lipstick on, all I can think about is shoving my cock between them. That's what lips like that are made for."

"That's exactly what your slut thought about while she was putting it on. How good her lips would look wrapped around your cock."

"Well, I think you had a really excellent idea there," he said. He walked over towards the wall. "Come here. Crawl." I obeyed, loving how submissive crawling to him made me feel.

"Stand up. I want to see what you have on under that slutty dress of yours." I stood and pulled the dress over my head.

He put both hands on my sides and began slowly stroking them, from just beside my tits to my hips. It made me shiver.

"I remember those panties. You were wearing them when you had your last orgasm, weren't you?"

"Yes Sir."

"I suppose that orgasm must feel like a distant memory to you now. I know you stop being able to remember how orgasms feel after a month or so, and now you're at six."

"Yes Sir. Your slut can't remember how it felt at all, just that it felt very good."

"Well, that's all you'll know for six months yet," he said. "That orgasms feel very good."

"Yes Sir." Really I

liked

not knowing more than that about what orgasms feel like--it made it easier to live without them.

Without any warning he moved his hands from my sides to my shoulders and roughly shoved me to the ground. I moaned. I

loved

it when he was rough with me like that.

He unzipped his jeans and dropped them and his boxers to the ground. He was already hard. I wanted so badly to have him in my mouth immediately, but I knew I couldn't just take him in my mouth without him giving me permission. I expected him to give it immediately though--he'd made it sound like he very much wanted me to suck him, and anyway, he never made me wait for it.

So I was very surprised when, rather than telling me to start sucking him, he instead started to rub his cock against my face. "You want this in your mouth, don't you, whore?" he asked.

"More than anything, Sir!"

He kept rubbing. "I don't have to let you, you know. I could change my mind. I could start denying not just your own pleasure but your ability to give

me

pleasure. I know that would be a much worse sort of denial for you."

"It would be so much worse!"

"I know it would. I know what a dirty cockslut you are. I know how desperate you always are to be full of me, even more than getting to cum."

He was still rubbing his cock on me. I whimpered. This was

torture.

I was

aching

to have him in my mouth. But I knew I couldn't beg him for it. It made him so fucking angry when I begged him. I knew he

would

change his mind and not let me suck him if I begged him, but even worse than the idea of not getting to suck him was the idea of making him angry at me.

"All right, take it in your mouth like a good little cocksucker," he said.

Finally!

I'd been getting nervous that he really was going to not let me.

I eagerly took him in my mouth. My pussy throbbed like mad the second I felt him filling me. My mouth was by far my favorite hole to have him fill. Blowjobs had always been my favorite sort of sex, always. It was actually the most obvious sign of my latent desire to be denied before I met him and he started doing it--the idea of giving pleasure without getting any had always been superhot to me. Now that I

was

denied and loved it so much, my love of blowjobs had become even more intense.

I knew it wouldn't be long before he grabbed my head and started making me deepthroat him, so I wanted to take advantage of my few early minutes of freedom to please him in ways besides just working him in and out of my mouth. My favorite thing to do was take just the head of his cock in my mouth and swirl my tongue around it, slowly lick down the entire length of him, and spend a few minutes licking his balls before I licked back up the length of him and started over, so I started doing that. It felt so good. I especially liked the part where I was licking down the length of him--it made me fully aware of exactly how big he was.

But as good as it felt doing that after a few minutes I started

aching

to have him in my throat, so I was so happy when I felt the familiar, wonderful sensation of him grabbing my head and shoving me down on him. Daily deepthroating practice with my dildo had gotten my gag reflex very well under control, and he was able to get his entire 7 1/2" length down my throat easily and keep fucking my mouth for several minutes before I gagged.

"Those slutty red cocksucking lips look so sexy wrapped around my cock right now, slave," he said. Another "slave" pushed me deeper into subspace, and deepthroating him pushed me deeper still.

He let go of my head for a minute so I could breathe. "Your slut is happy her lips look sexy to you, Sir," I said. "She wants to be so sexy for you."

"Good." Then he grabbed my head and shoved me down on him again.

"Just think, this is the only way you'll get to be full of my cock for another six months," he said. "This is all I'm going to take in all that time--your mouth. I want you to think about that right now, think about how long it's going to be till you cum, think about getting no pleasure in all that time but just be giving your Master pleasure with your mouth again and again and again." Hearing him tell me this made me moan into his cock. Knowing this was the only way I'd be pleasing him for all that time felt

amazing.

"This is why I love taking your mouth more than your pussy, slave. Because it gives pleasure to me and doesn't give any to you. This is exactly how it should be. This is exactly how it

will

be." He let me breathe for a minute again.

"That's what your slut likes best about it too, Sir! It feels so good to give you pleasure while she's not getting any. Giving you a blowjob is giving you pleasure

combined

with denial--you know those are your slut's two favorite things!"

"It's good that you understand exactly how things should be."

Then he was in my mouth again. His hands felt so strong holding so tightly to my head and his cock felt so big filling up my throat. He was fucking my mouth hard enough that it would've been painful, but the ever-increasing subspace was making me not feel any pain at all.

"Those slutty panties of yours must be soaked," he said. "I know how much you love having me fuck your mouth like this." He paused. "Though I'm sure they're not as wet as they were when you had your last orgasm." My pussy throbbed like crazy hearing him mention that. Thinking about that orgasm just made me even more aware of the fact that I had such a long time to go until my next one.

He was fucking my mouth very fast now. The sustained deepthroating was making me subspacier and subspacier. Everything was becoming hazy.

"This is what you're made for, slave. Not getting your own pleasure--giving

me

pleasure. This is why you

exist

--to give me pleasure." He let me breathe again.

"Yes Sir! Your slut knows! All she cares about is giving you pleasure!"

"Good."

He was in my mouth again. There was nowhere I would rather be than here--on my knees at my Master's feet, giving him pleasure while having my own denied.

He gripped my head even tighter and held it still, and I knew he was about to cum. Then there was the blissful feeling of him releasing what felt like an endless stream of cum into my mouth. Having him cum in my mouth made the subspace so deep I felt as if I were in a soft-focus dream. I swallowed as much of it as I could and then licked all around his cock, wanting to make sure to not miss a single drop. I knew what he'd said before had been right, that this was the whole reason I existed--to have my holes filled by him.

"Thank you for letting your slut give you pleasure, Sir," I said, my voice sounding as dreamy as I felt.

"You're welcome, slave."

"And thank you for denying your slut too."

"You're welcome for that too."

"Your slut is looking forward to the next six months of sucking your cock and not having her pussy touched so much. That's all your slut wants."

"Good." He stroked my hair. "You're a very good slave." No matter how good sucking his cock had just felt, hearing him tell me I was a good slave felt so much better.