The burner phone had been loaded with the wireless vibrator's control app and tested on your eager pussy before we'd left the apartment. Granted that test had been more of a tease as I'd made you stand out on the balcony in the fading Fall light with your legs spread, back straight, hands behind your head, short dress pulled up to your waist, and your dark, panty-less bush wild and free. I ground your clit with my tongue and thumbed your vaginal opening until your juices were flowing nicely before shoving the wireless toy deep inside you as you moaned.
A quick pulse from the burner phone, cycling up to maximum in moments before slowing the toy to a stop after about twenty seconds. Just enough to make you buck your hips, grind your clit on my tongue even more, and moan softly when I pulled the toy from your pussy. I made you lick it clean and then told you to finish getting ready.
The toy and the burner phone came out again once we were at the dungeon. I made you spread your legs in the passenger seat of the car and shoved the toy inside your still-wet, needy pussy whose clit I had been casually fingering while driving with my other hand. I tested the phone once more, delighting in your wide-eyed gasp, before exiting the car, grabbing the toy bag, and leading the way inside.
The common area was next to a small, communal kitchen. Overstuffed, faux leather couches lined the walls of the common area and were where many dungeon-goers tended to hang out and talk quietly--whether catching up, negotiating a scene, or very quietly and unobtrusively having one.
I sat at the end of one of the couches and you sat next to me on the arm. And then later, you were sitting in my lap, squirming. Sometime after that, while I was putting together a plate of snacks in the kitchen, you were up against the wall, in a corner, legs held tightly together, eyes pleading with me, me ignoring you.
Because all the while, my fingers had been touching that burner phone and the vibrator app--frequently sometimes, other times less so, dialing up and down your pleasure as you mingled and chatted and tried to pretend that I hadn't been edging you for the past two hours.
Finally, an old friend of mine agreed to chaperone the burner phone during our upcoming scene for a kiss--which he announced while decidedly looking at your pouty, needy lips. But he didn't say who would be doing the kissing, so I agreed on your behalf and then pulled him into the deepest, tongue-fucking kiss that made him pause, then lean into it, then moan and gasp as I pulled back, laughing.
In the dungeon play space, I strapped you into a height-adjustable queening chair--a wooden chair with a large gap in the seat and straps for ankles below, wrist cuffs on the chair's arms, and a strap for the neck on the chair's back. I strapped you into the chair silently, your eyes locking with mine whenever you could catch my gaze. Those dark eyes, desperate, pleading, longing, knowing...breathtaking. I had to reach out and flick your clit with a finger to make you gasp and look away lest I completely lose my concentration.
One of the dungeon monitors on duty helped raise the queening chair to a good height, just below the top of my head, where all I had to do to grind your swollen, needy clit with my tongue was tilt my head back ever so slightly.
The pink antenna of the wireless toy was sticking out and forward, and I turned it around so easily in your slick pussy to keep it out of the way.
I signaled to my friend who set the remote vibrator to pulse slowly at first, then faster, then slower, all random, all chaotic, all as negotiated. He had also been directed to, at times, set the device to maximum for a sustained period to allow you to get closer and closer before your orgasm was snatched away again and again.
You watched me make that signal before taking an anticipatory deep breath. Your slick pussy lips were already drooling. I let my friend tease you with the app for a couple of minutes before my tongue found your clit, and you gasped, "Fuck! Thank you, Mistress!"
Behind me, my friend handed the burner phone to a spectator, who, under my friend's negotiated supervision, dialed up and down the waves of pleasure teasing you, controlling you, driving you closer and closer to a teetering orgasmic cliff that seemed to be so...far...out...of...reach.
