Brin

"I love seeing you like this, slave," he said. "This is your proper state: bound and gagged, completely helpless for me, with your wet pussy perfectly on display."

I was on our bed, hands cuffed behind my back, my ball gag and buttplug in, and my legs kept apart as wide as possible by my spreader bar. He stood beside me with his hands behind his back, a position that always made him look more Dom to me somehow. He didn't just love seeing me in this position-I loved it too. I loved it when he took things as basic as the ability to speak or move away from me. I loved knowing he could do anything he wanted to me right now, anything at all. It made me feel so deeply submissive to be so helpless for him.

He put his right hand on my side, beginning to slowly slide it down my skin. Even this touch sent little jolts of electricity pulsing through my pussy.

He stopped when he was just at the edge of my pussy. "You'd like it if I fingered you right now, wouldn't you, slut?" he asked. I nodded frantically at him. Did he even have to ask?

"I don't have to, you know," he went on, still not moving his hand over to where I so badly needed to be touched. "It's been, what, four and a half months now? That's hardly any time at all." I knew in our terms it

was

hardly any time at all-he often made me go much longer than this without having my pussy touched, and even longer to actually have an orgasm. But I still hoped so dearly that he was going to touch me, every single time it seemed like he was getting close.

Then all of a sudden he quickly moved his hand over and began to rub my clit. I couldn't believe how good it felt-after even just a month without being touched, I completely forgot what pleasure felt like.

"You're soaking wet," he said. "Such a dirty little slut. Always aching to be touched." I nodded at him again-I couldn't even pretend to not know how right he was.

He kept fingering me silently for another minute. I was doing my best to not think about the fact that I surely wasn't going to get to cum. I took some solace in the fact that I knew he probably wasn't going to make me edge either, because he knew how hard that was on me.

"I think I know what you'd like even better than being fingered," he said. "Having my hard cock slamming into you." I nodded at him again. If I hadn't had my gag in, I would've been excitedly begging him for it.

He removed his hand and started to take his pants and boxers off. I whimpered at the sight of his beautiful cock. He began stroking himself to get hard and I whimpered again-it always turned me on so much to see him do that. There were times when to torture me he'd just make me watch him and not let me do anything to give him pleasure at all-it was always agonizing.

A minute later he was inside me. It felt like a million years since I'd been fucked by him. I couldn't believe he was, really-like he'd said, he often made me go much longer without this. Almost always when he wanted me to give him pleasure he took my mouth so I wouldn't be getting any pleasure myself.

He was fucking me slowly but deeply. With his size, he was capable of getting

very

deep into me, and he always made me feel so wonderfully

full.

"I know how much you've been aching for this since the last time I took you, whore," he said. "I know what a dirty slut you are. I know all you can ever think about is being full of my cock."

Yes yes yes,

I wanted to reply.

"You're getting wetter and wetter," he said. "Such a dirty, dirty cockslut." I loved that I was getting wetter for him, because I knew that would make fucking me more pleasurable for him.

"But you know I'm not doing this for

your

pleasure, slave," he said. "This is all for

my

pleasure. Your pleasure is entirely incidental. Maybe next time I'll numb your pussy first so you won't get any pleasure at all." Hearing him threaten me with this, paradoxically, made the pleasure I was feeling now even more intense.

He was fucking me faster now. It was feeling better and better. "I love taking you with your gag and buttplug in. It's very good for you to have

all

your holes filled," he said. "It should really remind you of your place." It definitely was.

"Do you know what I should do?" he asked. "I should get a little cage for you, and leave you gagged and bound inside it all the time, only taking you out when I want to use one of your holes. Since you have no purpose besides being used by me, there's no real reason for you to

not

be locked up all the time." This idea was insanely hot to me.

He was fucking me so fast now, fast and

hard.

I felt so completely

full,

having all three of my holes filled. I couldn't believe I'd had to go such a long time without the feeling of being fucked by him and was ecstatic to have it again now.

I always loved being fucked by him when I was bound too. It made me feel even more than usual like I just existed to be used by him like he was telling me, to be taken by him when he'd rendered me so helpless.

He started digging his nails into my tits hard-

fuck!

The combination of pleasure and a sort of pain I

loved

was so intense. "You're mine to take pleasure from

and

mine to give pain to, slave," he said. "You're mine to do absolutely anything I want to." Oh god that was all I wanted to be.

"I'm going to be ready to fill you up with my cum in just a minute, slut," he said. "I know how much you're looking forward to it. I know how much you love being full of your Master's cum, knowing you've served your purpose in pleasing him."

Yes Sir, yes yes yes!

He was fucking me even faster now and I knew he really was getting close. I couldn't

wait

to be full of his cum. It was going to feel so much better than getting to cum myself.

"You're

made

for being full of my cum. You're

made

for giving me pleasure. You're

made

for being used by me, because all you are is my

fucktoy,"

and on the last word he filled me with his cum. The combination of the ecstasy of making him cum and having him call me my favorite word made my head spin around with pleasure. I was perfectly, ecstatically happy. This was exactly what I'd needed so badly.

He climbed off of me and put his pants back on. I was drifting off into subspace now, from the combination of the bondage and having made him cum, and cumming myself was the last thing on my mind. Everything felt hazy and I was so happy, so happy.

Then I was suddenly and sharply snapped right out of subspace by the feeling of his fingers on my clit. What the

fuck?

He

never

started fingering me after he fucked me. He only ever fingered me for just a minute as

foreplay

to fucking me. Why the fuck was he fingering me

now?

I had a sudden glorious thought:

What if he was fingering me because he was going to let me cum?

Since he'd switched me to long-term denial four years ago the shortest I'd had to go between orgasms was eight months, and I was still quite some time away from that now, so it seemed impossible, but I was hopeful in spite of myself. I would give

anything

for an orgasm right now,

anything.

And maybe he would somehow be feeling generous. I tried to tell myself that I'd been a

very

good slave lately, so maybe he wanted to reward me.

But then he spoke and all my hopes were dashed. "I hope you know you're not going to be getting to cum today, slave," he said. "You're not going to be cumming for a very,

very

long time. Just think, you haven't even made it half a year yet. You still have so much time left to go."

I felt like I was going to start sobbing, hearing him say this. Why was he being so cruel? He never rubbed in how much longer he was going to make me go before I came. Hadn't I just pleased him? Why was he torturing me like this? I suppose the answer was just "because he could."

But mixed in with my despair there was still that intense pleasure. He was working three of his long, sexy fingers in and out of my opening very quickly now. If I hadn't been bound, I would've been bucking my hips up to meet him.

"I'm not going to stop until you're right on the

very

edge of an orgasm," he said. "Since you have your gag in, I want you to tell me you're about to by nodding at me. Understood?" I nodded reluctantly at him. I

hated

edging, but I knew that, as always, I had to obey him.

"I know you'd be touching yourself like this all the time if you had permission to," he said. "I know what a filthy, insatiable whore you are. You

need

to be under my strict control, because you're too much of a dirty slut to be able to control yourself on your own. You should be damn grateful that I keep you under control." Most of the time I was, but it was hard to feel too grateful when he was making me lose my mind like this.

Hearing him talk to me about denial was increasing the pleasure from his hand on me tenfold. Paradoxically, nothing made me more desperate for an orgasm than being told I wasn't going to get to have one. I don't know how being so turned on from denial could make me simultaneously so eager for the denial to be

over,

but it did.

Between the first time he fingered me and then the fucking, I knew it would only be a couple more minutes before I edged and this torture would be over. But the actual moment of edging would be a million times worse than how I was feeling right now. A couple of years ago he made me edge ten times a day for most of the summer, and by the end of it it was making me so frustrated I was

literally crying.

"Your orgasms don't belong to you, slave," he said. "They belong to me, just like everything else about you. That's why you don't get to have them unless I'm generous enough to grant them to you-because really they're

mine."

I wished I could lie to him, tell him I was edging before I was, but I'd never be able to live with myself if I deceived him that way. Being a good slave for him was my #1 priority, even when it came at the expense of my own sanity.

"I think after this I'll make you go, oh, three or four more months before I touch your pussy again at all," he said. "I'll go back to just using your mouth. You've had enough pleasure for a good long while, I think." This wasn't a surprise, but it was still hard to hear-he'd been making me feel

so

good, and it would be so difficult to go back to strict hands-off denial.

I was always amazed by how good he was at fingering me considering how little practice he had. He always knew

exactly

the right way to touch me to maximize my pleasure. I knew if he kept going long enough I'd be able to cum

very

hard with how good a job he was doing, especially after being fucked by him too.

I was getting close now. I was dreading the moment of edging so much, but I was looking forward to it in a way because I just wanted to get it over with.

Then I felt the orgasm welling up inside me all at once. I frantically nodded at him and he stopped just in the nick of time.

I felt so overwhelmed with how desperately I

ached

for the orgasm I'd just been so close to having. It was almost physically painful. I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths, trying to recover. I was suddenly glad that I was gagged, because it kept me from begging him to let me cum after all (he

hates

it when I beg him).

"I know that was hard, slave," he said. "I know how much you hate edging. I just wanted to remind you how much your pleasure is under my control, how much what

I

want is all that matters, not you. You need to remember how much you're nothing but my property, how much you're nothing but

my slave

to use however I see fit. I hope this served as a valuable reminder for you."

In a way he was right-hard as that had been, I

did

feel wonderfully submissive in a way now. I tried to cling to that feeling, because I knew it would help me cope with how much I was struggling right now.

"Just remember that you're being a good slave for me by continuing to be obedient even though it's hard right now," he said. "It's going to keep being hard for you for a few days after this just like it always is when you edge. You're going to really want to touch your pussy and make yourself cum. But just remind yourself how proud I am of you when you're obedient for me. Will you do that for me, slave?" I nodded at him. I could do just about

anything

if it meant I would be a good slave for him, even something that felt as impossible as this.