Clock Watching

A little thing I wrote around Christmas Time.

Enjoy

xantu

*

She looked at the clock, 8:47, thirteen more minutes until he said to start.

It had been a busy time for him. The holidays were always a busy time at his work, a spate of bad weather, and then an unexpected illness in the family had kept him preoccupied. Even when he did have a free evening, he was tired and irritable, falling asleep in front of the television rather than doing anything with her.

She knew better than to nag him, but as the days grew into a week and then two weeks she kept sending him those quiet longing looks. She told herself it was not her, that he still cared, he was just tired. He even acknowledged that he had been neglecting her, making apologetic comments about wanting to, but just not having the energy, muttering something about thinking of something to keep her occupied. She tried to be patient, engaging in discrete solo play when he was not home to keep the needs at bay. It wasn't the same but kept the wolves from the door. Still it was no substitute for having him use her. She desperately missed feeling him inside her, taking his pleasure from her. He was very aware of her habits and did not usually object. Privately she held the opinion that he liked her frequent masturbation because it took some pressure off him.

Then this morning he had surprised her. It had been the first day of her Christmas holiday. He had ordered her into the shower with him and pushed her down onto her knees, pressing his cock into her mouth without any words. He had gripped her hair and used her mouth roughly, enjoying the sounds of her gagging and gasping for air. Then he had picked her up and bent her over, taking her from behind as the water ran down her back and into her eyes and nose. She had gritted her teeth and tightened her cunt around him as tightly as she could. He had come quickly and then she had spun around on and taken him back into her mouth, soothing him, bringing him down from his orgasm. She was trembling with her own need but silently told herself that she could finish what he started once he was out the door.

After a while he stroked her face and looked down at her smugly, "Listen closely, today after I leave for work at precisely 9:00 am you will get out your vibrator and masturbate to orgasm. You will look at the clock and note exactly how many minutes it took you to come. Write that down. You will do this again at each hour for the whole day. If you are unable to come within the hour, you will stay in bed, with the vibrator on your clit until you catch up or I get home."

She looked up at him blinking. She knew that it would be difficult to do this. She was not readily multi-orgasmic, especially with only clitoral stimulation. Her body had a stubborn streak and would just not come after a while. He was well aware of this.

His next words sent a rush of fear and submissive delight through her, "For every orgasm you miss that will be a week of no orgasms for you."

Her breath caught, "None?"

His hand tightened in her hair, lifting her face up, leering down at her. "None, in fact we will start with a week of waiting for that little question, and will add to that depending upon your success or failure."

She swallowed hard, afraid to say anything more. "Yes, Sir."

She looked at the clock, 8:55. She got out the big hand held vibrator that plugged into the wall. She knew which one he meant. It was the big one that could be heard just about anywhere in the house when she used it. He liked it because he could tell when she was using it. All others were off limits, reserved for his use only. Carefully taking off her pajama bottoms she slipped under the covers watching the big red numbers on the alarm clock.

At 9:00 she pushed the button and put the vibrating head against her flesh. Closing her eyes she let her mind drift back to the shower, the sensation of his cock so deep in her throat, choking her, the hard porcelain hurting her knees, the way his hand pulled at her hair as he fucked her face. Silently she writhed as the sensations built quickly, when she counted down from ten, remembering his voice in her ear as he so often had done before. Her climax was sharp and short, making her clit pulse against the vibrator.

She looked at the clock, 9:07. That had been quick, but his use in the shower and instructions had left her on edge. He had never spoken of restricting her orgasms before but it had always been a fantasy of hers. In fact he had never so controlled her masturbation before, usually leaving it up to her. The memory of his words, the look on his face as he had said those words had her hot as hell. She stretched and climbed from the bed and wrote down, 9:00... seven minutes.

At 9:45 she got out one of her favorite 'dirty' books and opened it up to a favorite scene. He had not said that she couldn't use a little help getting her head in a good space. At 9:55 the phone rang, his voice was sharp, "Where are you?"

"In bed."

"Already?"

"Um... I was just reading, watching the clock, Sir."

"How many minutes did it take at 9:00."

"Seven minutes."

"Hot little cunt today, aren't you?"

She could not help but grin at his harsh words. He knew how much it turned her on to be verbally humiliated. Her voice dropped an octave, "Yes, Sir."

At precisely 10:00 she switched on the vibrator and started again. His voice over the phone was gloating, "How does that feel?"

Her voice gurgled a little, "Good, Sir."

His tone was slightly mocking, "My hot little cunt, all the time riding her fucking vibrator. Enjoy it today because you will be missing it later." And then he hung up without saying good bye.

It did not take much longer, his words echoing in her head, this time she counted down out loud, and right before exploding she groaned out, "Yes." Opening her eyes she looked at the clock, 10:13. Her cunt ached and tingled and she was happy to pull the vibrator away. She knew it was only going to get harder. As she wrote down, thirteen minutes, it never even occurred to her to lie to him.

It seemed like 11:00 came much too quickly. Her pussy was still burning and tired. She stared at the clock and made a pained face as she started. Holding the vibrator she reread the sexy part of her book, putting herself in the extreme scene that had always made her get hot. When she got close she propped up the book and pressed her hand tight against her chest, crushing her breast, tensing her whole body into a hard vibrating arc, fiercely counting down, but when she got to one, she hovered there, grating out the last number over and over, "One! One! One!" The book slid to one side as she groaned out the word, her tone agonized and pleading. Finally she pushed past the block and came hard, her orgasm shaking her whole body, making her collapse and convulse. She was breathing hard and drenched in sweat when she looked at the clock. Her heart sank, 11:33. Only twenty-seven minutes until she had to start again. She was tempted to fall asleep but she knew that she would probably oversleep and miss noon.

His instructions had been clear. There was no way to skip one and rest. His words had been clear, 'if you can't come during that hour, you will remain in bed with the vibrator on your clit'. She knew that starting at noon; she was not going to be anywhere but in the bedroom torturing herself according to his wishes.

She forced herself to get up and walk into the kitchen and got a pitcher of water with a lot of ice in it and a glass with a straw. She made sure to pee and then grabbed the rest of her favorite sexy books and some lube to help with chafing; she stood in her bedroom trying to think what else she was going to need. On impulse she took two aspirin and filled a wine glass up with her favorite Merlot. She made sure that her phone was within reach. She was pretty sure he would be calling again sometime soon to check up on her.

At 11:55 she stripped down completely nude and on impulse took an ice cube out of the pitcher and chilled her fingers a little and then gently slid her icy fingers over her swollen and aching clitoris. The cold was soothing.

At noon, she sighed and put the vibrator between her legs. She flinched, Jesus, it was more painful than pleasurable. Clenching her teeth and sliding down on the bed she lay there with her eyes clenched closed, focusing on the sensation, visualizing his hand on the vibrator. It was his command that had put her here. Even with him busy and at work, he was there with her. And she was sure she was on his mind too. She knew he had to be looking at his watch, that tight predatory grin on his face as he thought about her here, contending with his commands.

Once the pain faded to a manageable level she clenched her thighs together holding the vibrator in place and began to read, deciding on not worrying about it so much. "Just relax and ride the wave." Her voice trembled in time with the sensations.

At 12:15 her phone rang. His voice was teasing. "What are you doing?"

She had to swallow before she could talk, "Masturbating."

He chuckled, "Having fun?"

Her voice quivered a little, but she struggled to sound light, "Oh yes Sir, lots and lots of fun."

His voice darkened, "Have you missed any yet?"

"No, not yet."

"How long did the last one take?"

"Thirty-three minutes."

The teasing tone was back, "Not so hot now?"

A little wave of silliness rose up in her, "I don't know. I think it is starting to smoke down there a little, much more friction and I might just burst into flame." A small pang of fear shot through her. Sometimes he did not find her little sarcastic statements all that funny. More often than not she ended up regretting the impulsive little jokes. To her relief he snorted with laughter.

Her voice was a little plaintive, "Sweetheart, Sir, when do you think you are going to be home tonight?"

There was a hint of sadism in his voice, "I don't know. I have a lot of things to get done here, and there are some guys talking about grabbing some drinks after work. Maybe I will join them."

She forced the tiny whimper of protest from her voice, "Sir, I did not have time to plan anything for dinner." Cooking dinner was the one the few domestic things he insisted on. He did not much care if the house was messy or not, but he had become very accustomed to having a hot meal waiting for him when he got home.

"Then maybe I will get something before I come home."

This time she could not help but ask, "But do I have to keep doing this?"

His voice was sharp and hard, a crack of a whip, "Make that two weeks. Question me again and it will be four." She swallowed down her next question. Oh god, he was going to figure this exponentially. She had not gone more than a couple of days without some kind of sexual satisfaction, now she had at least two weeks and it went without question that there was going to be more. The vibrator was buzzing merrily against her cunt but things were not moving along at all, in fact things were starting to go a little numb.

Her voice was defeated, "Yes, Sir."

"Get busy, girl."

"Yes, Sir."

Again he hung up without saying good bye. She looked at the phone for a second. He had never had much patience for little social niceties. He never had much patience period. It was his impatience and stringent ways that had attracted her to him in the first place. It did not take long before his impatience and her craving for his control had pushed the power imbalance in his direction. And each step of the way she began to thrive more and more on his dominance.

She thought back to the first time he had physically punished her, spanking her and then beating her with his belt. She did not even exactly remember why he had punished her but the feeling of surrender; loss of control, had been amazing. It seemed like after that she had always looked at him with trepidation and awe. He had always been important but now his wishes were central to her existence.

The thought of that first beating seemed to wake up her numb and battered nerve endings, making her cunt clench and the feelings of heat and tingling running up her legs. She started to count but to her surprise the orgasm shot through her before she could reach one, her body almost spastic and uncontrollable. A low sob accompanied her orgasm. Turning she looked at the clock, 12:48. Blinking back tears she dropped the vibrator to one side and reached for a drink of water. After a long cool drink, she lowered the glass with its coating of cool condensation and pressed it to her throbbing cunt.

It felt jarringly cold but so good. She let out a long quivering groan. Her clit was doing this odd, throbbing thing. If felt like it was twitching spasmodically against the cold wet glass.

There was a kind of resignation in her mood and movements when 1:00 came up on the clock. She had an odd bored thought that it was too bad he did not allow a television in the bedroom. She sort of wanted something to do that took less effort than holding a book or focusing on words on a page. The idea of coming or not coming was too hard to think about. Closing her eyes she let her thoughts drift, trying to picture where he was, what he was doing. Thinking about Christmas next week, wondering what he had planned for them to do. She made a rueful face; one thing was sure, there would be no orgasms. Once he said something, he had never once changed his decision. And right now that was beginning to sound not so onerous.

She could tell she was getting sleepy; her body was getting heavy and her thoughts slower. Knowing that he would not accept sleeping as an excuse to stop, she reached down and found her underwear and awkwardly pulled them on. They were form fitting spandex and helped hold the vibrator trapped against her cunt. The angle was a little wrong but she folded up her pajama bottoms and wedged them under the handle strategically to force the vibrating head against her clit. Smiling at her ingenuity, she flexed her tired hand and arm, lay back down and let her mind float again.

Before her eyes drifted closed she looked at the clock, 1:34. She mentally shrugged and added a week to her projected fast. She lay there wondering what it would be like. Would it be easy or would she be totally horny? She wondered what it would be like to serve him without any prospect of satisfaction. She was not so worried that she would not be able to do it, would become somehow spontaneously orgasmic. Orgasms were perfectly possible but took some effort and concentration. But what would it be like to have none, none at all?

She shifted a little and the head of the vibrator settled a little deeper into her flesh, sending a sharp pang of agony through her. She winced and blinked a few times but the bedroom seemed too normal, too at odds with her predicament to bear and she closed her eyes once more and retreated deep into her mind.

She was amazed to feel the tension building in her body again, her thigh and belly muscles jerking. It was odd, she did not feel it all that much in her cunt, but somehow the messages were getting up to her brain and her body was trying to respond. Normally she did not find internal stimulation that helpful somehow her cunt felt empty and she wished he was here to fuck her. If he was fucking her, she knew she would be able to make it happen again.

Experimentally she reached down and slid her fingers into her cunt. She was not surprised to find it hot and very wet. Her fingers were cool in contrast and felt kind of nice. The heel of her hand was pressed down on the vibrator as she tried to force her fingers in deeper, searching for that illusive g-spot.

She had read about it, and once or twice found it, but only after extended sessions when she was too tired to appreciate it. He usually did not bother with her orgasms all that much, demanding she learn to come on his countdown but only as she had masturbated for him, and only engaging in this kind of play on rare occasions. In fact he seemed to prefer she not come while he used her. He did not have the patience to force her to reach this place like where she was now, very often.

She wished she had a dildo or something huge to shove up there, anything to make the empty feeling go away. She had mentioned perhaps wanting one once. He had said that her vibrator was all she needed, that she masturbated too much as it was and that a dildo would only make her do it more often. She also wondered if he did not like the idea of her having something that obviously phallic. It seemed like his use of her this morning in the shower was days instead of hours ago.

She worked her fingers inside her passage, massaging the inside walls and was rewarded by that deep achy sensation that was so close to needing to pee, but not quite. Softly she breathed out a triumphant, "Yesssss," and felt her body begin to shake with a pending explosion. This time she did not bother to count, her thoughts too clouded to think about anything but the building passion that was threatening to tear her apart.

Normally she was pretty quiet when she orgasmed but this time a loud harsh grunting scream was forced from her lips as she thrust her fingers in as deeply as she could, curling up and jerking with waves of blinding ecstasy. She was mindless, almost howling. It had never been so strong before. The vibrator was still going, compelling her body to writhe along with its demanding rhythms. She blinked and looked at the clock, 2:30. According to his instructions she had to leave it there.

She wailed in defeat, "Oh god, I can't keep doing this." But she knew she would. She knew that even if she were unconscious when he got home that the vibrator would still be there, battering her tender parts to mush.

Her hand shook so hard as she wrote the time down that it was almost unreadable. She reached for the glass of wine and slopped a little on the sheets as she took one deep swallow and then a second. There were still some ice cubes floating in the pitcher and she reached in and grabbed a couple and pressed them to her burning cunt. The sudden cold was agony and she let out a hoarse squawk but kept the ice pressed against her tortured flesh.

The cubes melted quickly and she reached for some more, ignoring the wide wet spot forming on the bed under her ass. The handle of the vibrator was getting hot and she carefully made sure that her folded up pajama bottoms were between her and the hot plastic. A tiny hopeful thought that maybe the thing would just wear out intruded into her mind, and she let out a tiny hysterical giggle as she visualized it melting in her hand or exploding.

When the second handful of ice cubes melted she let her hand fall to the side, letting her body sag limp and weak on the damp sheets. She was simultaneously chilled and too hot, her body shivering but at the same time sweating. Keeping her eyes closed she just tried to breathe and relax. Even if he hadn't been serious about coming home late she did not expect him home before 5:30. Peeking at the clock she saw that it was only 3:14.

Hoping that if it were possible to come again, her body would wake her up, she pulled the sheet over her body and let her mind drift further and further until sleep took her. His weight making the mattress sag and shift is what woke her. Her eyes flashed open to see him sitting on the edge of the mattress looking down at her. Convulsing in guilt she gasped and stammered, "Oh god, Sir..." but he put his fingers over her lips, silencing her. She looked past his hand at the clock. It said 4:30. He was home an hour early.

She became aware that her hips and belly were jerking in what seemed to be an endless series of small agonizing convulsive jerks, her empty cunt clenching and opening spasmodically like the mouth of a dying fish. Her tortured flesh was curiously numb but sharp lances of pain were shooting up from her whole pelvic area. Looking up at his face she reached up and pressed his fingers even more tightly to her lips and then burst into sobs. He reached across to the dropped paper she had been writing on and raised an eyebrow.