All thoughts are driven from my mind as, without warning, you slide three fingers in me, moving them in and out, brining me back to the edge, while telling me sternly not to come. I clench my teeth, moaning and grunting with the effort of controlling my reactions. You touch each of my nipples in turn with your free hand, confirming by the twin winces that they are still painfully hard, and then move to my clit. You rub it roughly, pinching it, all without missing a beat with your other hand. I hold on, crying with the effort, and you change your angle, driving deeper, pausing to move your fingers against that too-sensitive spot inside me, and then continuing.
I am begging - both for you to let me climax and for you to stop before I can't control it, but you pay no heed, continuing until my muscles contract around you, then abruptly remove all contact. I shudder several times, coming down, catching my breath. I feel so empty, and want that orgasm so much more after being denied a second time. I wonder idly how many times you will do this to me, both anticipating and dreading the answer. Before I fully recover, you ask for my hands. I hold them out to you, a little surprised at the request. I have a moment of true terror, wondering what on earth you will do to THEM as punishment, before you pull me to a sitting position and then move next to me.
You arrange the pillows and lean back, lounging comfortably and begin giving instructions. I turn on the lights at your command, find the vibrator, and bring it to you. Now it is my turn to kneel between YOUR legs, ankles together, knees spread. You smile at the view I can't possibly hide, and note the liquid trailing down my leg. You tease me about enjoying my punishment and I flush scarlet. At your command, I turn on the vibrator and slip it in, nodding confirmation that I understand I was, again, NOT to orgasm. Then, with a grin, as I kneel there, struggling to retain my composure, you take my hands in yours, tell me no such rules apply to you, and then guide my hands to your ready and willing cock.
I run my fingertips slowly along the sides of the shaft, caress your balls, then hold them in one hand while running my thumbnail along the bottom ever so gently. I press my palm against the tip of the head and stroke between your balls with a single finger. I draw a finger around the head, circling inward, and flutter two fingers quickly against the tip. I form a circle with my hand and run it quickly up and down the shaft while squeezing your balls carefully. You grunt, your breathing turning rapid, as I pick up the pace.
I move both hands along the side of the shaft, one moving up, the other down, back and forth, pausing at each end to stroke the tip and squeeze your balls. I keep it up, changing speed and tempo, moaning throatily and squirming myself, grateful for the focus you are providing, distracting me from the incessant buzzing inside of me. As I lean down to lick a drop of pre-cum from you, still stroking, you push my head down onto you, holding it there with a hand, and come inside my mouth. I obediently swallow it all, then lick you clean before sitting back up.
You lay there, temporarily spent, watching me struggle to stay kneeling without the focus you had provided. You wait, catching your breath, while I both try to keep the vibrator in AND keep it from affecting me. Again, you wait until the very second I lose the battle, then reach down, pull it out, and switch it off. I teeter for a moment, then look you in the eyes. "Please, Sir. Haven't I been punished enough?" You grin at me, and respond with one word: "No." You send me to go clean the toy, and I do so, putting it back where it belongs and returning to you, handing you the ropes and clamps you request. I start to kneel on the floor, but you motion me to the bed and push me back, tying my wrists together, then binding them to the headboard. Each of my ankles you tie to one of the foot posts, and then you sit next to me and blindfold me.
You fondle my breasts, listening to me breathe, and stroke the nipples until they hurt again. Then you pinch them both, hard, brining tears to my eyes before pulling them away from my body, until I cry out. You do this over and over, till I am panting with the pain, on the edge of utterly sobbing. You pick one, lick it, bite it gently, and grind your back teeth against it before attaching a clamp. Then you repeat the entire process on the other. You stroke my hair, brushing your fingertips along my ear, until I become accustomed to the hurt and calm down. You kiss me deeply and move your hand down me, making sure to tap each clamp on the way, until your hand rests between my legs.
You slap me lightly, directly over my pussy, cupping your hand to strike the most flesh. I jump, straining against the bonds in surprise, and you smack me again before I can recover. I buck again, then flinch from the expected blow that never lands. You wait until I relax, and then pick up your leather belt and bring it down against the inside of one leg, then the other. You alternate, back and forth, working upwards. You keep the strikes slow, giving me time to feel each one. Then, several, in quick succession, impacting directly at my entry. I cry out at each, and start begging you to take me, to fuck me, to please please please be inside me. You continue, alternating now between my pussy and my clit, listening to me beg. I am moaning, tugging and my bonds. My skin is raw, my breath ragged, my need for you growing, my pleas becoming more insistent.
When I feel surely I can take no more without my own passion splitting me in two, the rain of blows stops, and the blindfold is removed. You remove the ropes from my ankles, rubbing them a bit, and then perch above me. I look into your eyes, quaking all over, and you lower yourself onto me, into me. I close my eyes in relief and joy, as you hold still, just letting me feel you. You remove the bonds on my wrists, and I move my hands to your shoulders, stroking them. You move out of me, then back in, very slowly, and I rise to meet you. You smile, and follow my rhythm this time, letting me take what I need. Each stroke rubs against the inflamed skin, and as you thrust into me I cry out, climaxing quickly. You continue, not even pausing, guiding me through wave of orgasm after orgasm - some mine, some yours; some together, some apart, until we are both utterly spent.
You move off of me, I reach over flip the light off, and you hold me in your arms as we both drift contentedly back to sleep.
