We haven't shared anything here for years. There have been lots of ideas percolating in our dirty minds but no time to put them to paper. So rather than wait for the time to write the perfect story, I thought I'd write a "quicky". Enjoy.
*
I lie on the bed, hands locked behind my back, legs spread and tied to the bed frame. I've been laying like this for the better part of two hours. The earplugs aren't a perfect fit but I still barely hear the door open. My cock stirs, going from full to quite hard. I can't see it with the blindfold on, but I sure as hell can feel it.
I know there will be a wait now. A wait while she finished her evening routines. I hear the muted sound of the toilet flush and I know she's nearby. I feel the weight of her body as she settles into bed.
She has been teasing me for days. Weeks actually. But not the usual teasing. The teasing where she strokes me slowly, building up to an edge and then leaving me wanting. It can be excruciating and intense, but I can handle that. I am almost — dare I say — used to it. But no, this was not the usual teasing. This was a whole other level of need. A level of need that had built on three weeks without orgasm. It wasn't the longest I'd gone without release, but it was long enough to leave me thinking of little else than my swollen balls and twitching cock.
I had been away for business and while away her instructions had come every night. Usually she'd give me guidance about porn to watch — perhaps women fucking men who weren't their husbands, or compilations of men being brought to orgasm by a woman's mouth or hands — just so I would have to watch cum emerging from cocks, knowing none would be emerging from mine. Then she'd let me touch myself for a while. Again, challenging, craze inducing but nothing I couldn't handle.
But this trip was different. Each night I was to tie myself up, tying my sensitive bits in two of her thin dress socks so they would stay hard (cock) and exposed (balls).
The first night, I was allowed to stroke my cock as long as I wanted. Fine, great, but here's the kicker: in only one direction. Men, try this next time you're jerking off, perhaps now if you are somewhere private. You will quickly see how frustrating it is; so frustrating that as denied and desperate as I had become I would have been hard pressed to make myself cum — even if I had been given permission, which I most assuredly had not. I ended up rubbing up and up faster and faster to try to get closer to that elusive edge state. At the end I was literally slapping my cock up and it was impossible to get enough spit on my hand fast enough to keep from nearly rubbing myself raw until finally I gave up in desperate exhaustion. After laying in bed for a few minutes I would open back up some porn — men in chastity this time — and it would get me going again. What was most insane about this was that I couldn't help myself from touching my cock again, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to stop until I had again whipped myself into a frenzy, only to finally give up. I found myself in this cycle three or four times before I finally fell asleep.
The next night was worse. This time I was only allowed to touch my balls. No problem, I would rub them a bit, which felt good at first but not good enough to encourage me. Except the porn was making me horny as hell. I couldn't stop trying to get something out of my predicament. I found that the harder I squeezed my balls, the better it felt, but also the more it hurt. Not acute sharp pain, but a dull aching gnaw. I found that slapping them also got me closer to the edge. Just not enough. Again, I found myself unable to stop escalating my literal self-abuse. I was getting closer to the edge but not close enough. Nowhere near as close as I'd have gotten if I could just touch my cock.
Soon I was squeezing my balls as hard as I could, then almost pummeling them. I am not exaggerating when I say that I couldn't stop. I discovered the only way I was going to stop was when my poor balls simply couldn't take it any longer. the last slap was nearly agonizing. At that point again I would stop, a dull throbbing ache deep in my testes, breathing raggedly, my body sweaty. And then, of course, because I'm a horny idiot I'd open up a new porn page, finding myself slipping into the whole cycle again. It took three of these sessions before I was too exhausted and sore to do it again.
The next night, she let me only touch my nipples. My nipples were very sensitive at this point, but only sensitive enough to give me a little taste of the edge that I knew I would never reach that evening. I ended up laying in bed simply frustrated and desperate.
The last night, I didn't hear from her. She'd fallen asleep early. She had made it clear on many occasions that if I didn't receive any instructions, I was to do nothing. In the past I would have allowed myself a relaxed interpretation of these rules. I even texted her saying that having not heard from her I might assume that she would be ok with me touching myself. But I knew that wouldn't fly. I summoned my last reserves of will power and went to sleep, even more desperate than the night before, but with the knowledge that I would be laying in bed with my sweet loving wife the following evening, enjoying her touch, being rewarded for my good behaviour.
Which brings us back to last night. Me lying prone in bed, splayed out, her next to me, sitting up watching a movie.
Again, what usually happened was she would wait a while to get me going and then eventually touch me. She might slap my balls around a bit. She might twist my nipples. But she would also stroke my cock, slowly lovingly and bring me to the edge. Then she'd wait and do it again. And again.
I had waited for what seemed like forever for her to come upstairs. And now I waited. And waited. I have become used to her movements. The little shift that signaled her hand moving toward me. I knew something was going to happen. She went for my nipple. Not a delicious circling or flickering touch though; a sudden hard pinch. Then running her hand down my stomach toward my cock. And then gone. Waiting again.
And waited. Remembered us discussing how insane it made me — what an intense turn-on it was mentally — thinking what it would be like if she didn't touch me. But that was fantasy and this was reality. Laying there, knowing that she could but chose not to. This after days without any stroking at all. Slowly the realization dawned on me. This was the night she planned to not touch me again at all. My stomach flipped over. I wasn't prepared for how desperate it would make me.
Sure enough, eventually she reached over to turn off the light. Untied me. Rolled over. Good night. Aching with desire for her.
And now, tonight, she must have mercy, she must touch me.
She does touch me, but not where I need it. Circling my stomach. Stroking my arms. Even flicking my nipples which sends shocks through my body. I feel like my body is half in orgasm the entire time I'm there, and half as far as I will ever be from one.
Now she touches me, but not pleasantly. She grabs my balls in her fist. I've told her it's safe to squeeze them harder and she's taken me at my word. Now it seems she is squeezing as hard as she can. It's almost unbearable. I groan and sigh. When she stops I try to shift away but I can't. My balls are open to her. I cannot close my legs as I used to be able to. I can't protect them. I now she's going to do it again and I can't stop her. The anticipation is dreadful and electrifying. She does it again, this time grabbing them, pulling them, twisting them.
Then she slaps my cock, hard.
I wait.
I sense rather than feel her hand near my cock. I feel it moving around my cock. I can even tell that it's moving up and down — maybe it's the air currents, maybe she's just close enough that a I feel a slight touch from time to time.
Then she removes my blindfold, gives me that look. Crafty, cruel, loving, knowing.
She releases my hands briefly so I can remove the earplugs, then clicks the restraints back in place.
"I bet you'd like me to touch your cock?"
"Yes."
"Stroke it?"
"God. Yes."
"I'm not sure you're ready for that yet. I don't think you need it badly enough."
"Oh, I do. Please."
"You kept asking me to tease you mercilessly. And now you're asking for mercy."
"This is different."
"I don't think so. I'll tell you when you need it."
"Yes mistress."
"Now, you've been wanting to hear about my exploits from before we were together. Something about hearing about me with other men turns you on, doesn't it?"
This is a change in subject. Where is she going with this?
"It does, but..."
"But what? You want me to touch you, you want me to tell you stories, I can't do all of these things. Or I could, but I won't."
Her hand idly moving toward my cock then withdrawing.
"Would you like to hear about what I've done for other men?"
"If you wish."
"I do wish."
She traces a line around the base of my cock.
"I had some special skills, you know."
"I'm not surprised."
"Skills that a number of men benefitted from."
"Yes, I gathered. More than a few men."
A hard slap on my cock.
"Yes, more than a few. Do you know what they loved? I bet you can guess."
"To have you stroke their cocks?"
"Yes, to give them hand jobs. Especially when I couldn't or wouldn't fuck them. I was quite a tease you know."
