Picture Perfect

"Please Sir? Please I need you."

"Need? Boi, no you don't. You want me. I'll think about it. Edge for me again."

I sigh and whimper in frustration as I set down my phone. You're right. I don't need you. But you've had me edging for the last five days. Usually, whether or not I masturbate is my choice, but not this week. This week, you have given me clear instructions on how many orgasms I have to give up for you each day. So far, it's up above 30 total -- I was an over achiever the first day, when I didn't know your plans for me.

I get out my massager -- a mini magic wand -- and bring it out to the couch this time. Sometimes it's nice to have a change of scenery. I throw down a blanket and slip my pants and underwear off. Leaning back against the arm of the couch, I turn on the wand and think of you. I am so horny, so constantly wet already that the first touch of the massager makes all of the muscles around my cunt tense up. It's as if they're asking, "This time? We get to orgasm this time, right?" I know it won't take long to get to the edge.

I start imagine what I'd rather have happening right now. Your boot pressing into my chest or cheek. Your hands gripping my throat, punching my legs and ass. Your cock forcing its way down my throat, or slamming harder and harder into my cunt. Imagine feeling you filling me as you hold me down by the wrists and throat, staring down at me. I can feel how close my orgasm is. I tell myself, "No. You can't. He said you couldn't, and you won't." I imagine begging you to cum, hearing you tell me not to. Your voice goes so cold, so hard when you're being authoritative. Every muscle in my body is screaming to release. But I cannot. I switch off the vibrator, my body shaking with the effort of holding back, my eyes tearing up in frustration.

I pick up the phone to let you know that I did as you said. I snap a picture of myself, my pussy red from frustration, and shining with wetness, and send it. "Thank you Sir. I'm so desperate now, and I want you. Please may I cum?"

I wait for the response. There's quite a delay -- I know you don't have plans tonight, so you're probably engaged in your hobbies. Taking some quiet time. I wish I were less horny so I could do the same, but all I can think of is bratting you into pinning me down with your body and forcing your way inside. Fucking you so hard that all I can feel is pain from your cock pounding into my cervix. Then fucking you harder. Having my face shoved into the mattress while you bite down on my shoulder hard enough to bruise for days, while you grip my hips so tight you leave clear finger marks.

A buzz from my phone. "No. Again, boi. I want you desperate. Make sure you're using your hands too. When you're done, I want to know how many fingers you were able to fit in that greedy cunt of yours."

I pout at my phone in frustration, but lie back again. My poor cunt is already throbbing, and the slightest touch is almost too much. I start with the vibrator on low. Slide in two fingers to start, and slowly work them in and out. I close my eyes and imagine you're there, watching me. Telling me how much you enjoy seeing me fuck myself. My hips start to rise up to meet my hand. I slip my index finger in as well. All three fingers curling up to stroke my g spot. But I want to do more for you.

I stand up, setting down the vibrator, and lean my weight onto the couch with my other hand. I can reach farther back this way, hand between my legs. My hand pumps in and out, not going far each time, but moving fast. The heel of my hand rubs on my clit. I feel so full already, but I'm also soaked, and relaxed. I slip my pinky in too, up to the knuckle. I moan, rubbing on my hand. I imagine what I would look like to you right now, trying to fuck my whole hand for your enjoyment. I press up on the rear wall of my vagina to create more opening -- a classic fisting trick -- and imagine you telling me how sexy I look when I'm eager for more. Telling me to keep going. Slowly, with some deep breathing, I slide my knuckles inside. I've never felt so full. I start frantically rubbing my clit with my thumb, feeling my orgasm get closer. I almost never cum with a full cunt, so I push myself closer to the edge than I normally would.

It surprises me, when my legs buckle, and my cunt starts to clench. I was so overwhelmed by sensations that I didn't feel my orgasm coming. I feel wetness running down my legs as I cum, my body so overwhelmed from the amount of edging that I squirt. I cry out. It feels so good, but I'm overwhelmed with disappointment that I let you down. That I came without permission. As I recover, I slowly start to remove my hand from my cunt, one millimeter at a time. My fingers are sore from being crushed when I orgasmed, and sticky wet from being inside me.

My phone buzzes unexpectedly. "Fisting? That's ambitious, boi." I freeze. How did you know? Another buzz. "I admire your dedication but I'm very, very disappointed in your follow through. You came without my permission." My heart is pounding. How could you possibly know when I hadn't told you yet. Buzz. "Look up. If you're going to masturbate in the living room, you should put thicker curtains on your side window." I look to the picture window that faces my driveway and see your shadow outside. I run to the door and unlock it.

"Sir, you scared me! I thought you were staying home toni-"

You slam me into the wall, knocking the wind out of me, and close the door behind you. One hand goes to my throat and pins me to the wall. The other reaches down to explore between my legs. "So wet. So warm. I understand that at a certain point edging becomes an exercise in futility. But I'm still disappointed that you couldn't hold back for me, boi." My excitement at seeing you turns to shame quickly. "So instead of rewarding you with orgasm after orgasm, which was my plan in surprising you here tonight, I'm going to take what's mine, and you're not going to cum. No matter what. Not until I say. No begging. Understood?" I nod. "Good." You drag me over to a hair and sit down. "Take off my boots."

I sink to my knees. Your boots are not looking their best. I haven't done leather service for you in too long. I stroke the leather, lean forward and kiss the toe as I unzip the side. It's dirty, but I don't care. I need you to see my subservience now, since I've disobeyed you. I feel your other boot gently come to rest on the back of my head, keeping me bowed low. "I'm not angry. You know that, boi?" Your tone is gentle, reassuring.

I fight back tears. "You're not, Sir?"

"No. It was an error. Tonight will be your penance, and then, you'll be done. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Take off the other boot." You lift your foot off and I remove both boots, setting them neatly down. I can't lift my eyes to you, not yet, and you have to lift my chin. "Take off my pants. And then your shirt." You have your authoritative voice on now, and your eyes have gone blank. Your predator is here.

I scoot between your legs, my body relaxing a bit. It won't be an easy night for my body, but I'm sure to enjoy it. I carefully unbutton and unzip your jeans, and you stand slightly so I can slide them down. I look up when I'm finished. You smile coldly, stroke my chin. The slap is not a total surprise, but my whole cheek stings.

"Thank you, Sir." You tilt your head and smile. The second slap is expected, and I have to work not to flinch or stiffen. "Thank you, Sir."

Your fingers curl around my throat and squeeze. Not hard. I can breathe, and my blood is flowing easily. But hard enough to know that it could be worse. You lift me until I'm standing, bent over, and pull my face close to yours. I can smell you all around me, and your scent gets stronger the more you slip into your darker self. I close my eyes to enjoy it, to surrender, and you lean forward and bite down hard on my shoulder. Your teeth dig into my flesh, and I whimper and lean closer to you, lean into your teeth and hand. You release. Push me back to my knees.

Your cock is so close. I want to beg for it, but I know better. You start to touch it idly as you look at me. I hear a low growl in your throat and respond with a whimper, nudging your knee with my still-stinging cheek. I know you were planning something like this when you pull out a condom and quickly, deftly slide it on. You grab the back of my neck and pull my head even closer. "Go ahead, boi."

I try to reach forward to lick your cock, but instead of getting to feel your cock in my mouth I feel a sharp pain in my scalp. I yelp in surprise as my head gets yanked a bit farther away. I try again to lick you, but again your hand in my hair stops me. "What are you waiting for, boi? I want you to please me." I whine just a little and pull closer. I strain and strain against my hair. The pain is intense, but I want to please you despite it. Your cock is still just out of reach, even when I stretch my tongue to its length. Your other hand grabs my throat. "Eager, greedy boi. So willing to please. I suppose I should let you." You let go of my hair and guide me to your cock with your other hand.

I sigh in relief and pleasure. I lick up the full length and tickle the head before taking it into my mouth. One hand wraps around the base of your shaft, sliding up to meet my lips as they play with your head. My tongue slides out over my lower teeth and presses into the spot where your head and shaft meet. I hear you growl and it urges me on, sucking harder. I start to work my head up and down, getting a little farther down with each stroke, firmly gripping the rest with my hand. Every few strokes I pull all the way back up to use my tongue on you, giving your most sensitive spots the attention they deserve. My other hand slips between your legs, gently stroking your balls, pressing gently behind them to stimulate you more.

Your hand wraps into my hair again. This time, instead of pulling, you start to push slowly, relentlessly down. I can't take all of you without gagging. We both know this. But this isn't about me. My job is to accept what you give. To suffer through it. I try to relax and think open thoughts. Your hand is doing the work, using my mouth like a tool to fuck you. Soon you've gotten me so far down that there's not room for my hand. I start to gag and you slow down. Not stopping, but allowing me to regain my breath and my composure. I want so badly to touch myself. I am thoroughly wet for you again. But I wouldn't ask now even if I could. You start to press again, up and down. I help a little, but let you lead the pace, the pressure, and try just to relax and let you enjoy me. I've never taken this much for you, and I can feel you in my throat now, your cock pressing against my soft palate. I suck harder with the front of my mouth. I don't swallow, allowing my saliva to coat you, and to make a mess of my face.

Abruptly, you pull me off. I whimper, breathing heavily. "Excellent, Clodia. You've been practicing. I'll keep that available for use." You reach into your bag -- how did I not see you had a bag!? -- and pull out a dental gag. It slips behind my teeth, and you buckle it behind my head. I feel so exposed, and know it won't be long before I'm even more a mess than before. "Lovely." You pull out your phone from your discarded pants. "Smile." You slide your cock back into my mouth as I look up at you, and snap a picture. You take another as you pull out, leaving my face wet and messy, ready for more.

"Good. Stand up, and go place your hands against that wall." You indicate a wall that cannot be seen from a window. "I am not going to repeat your mistake, boi," you say with a chuckle.

I walk over to the wall and stand ready, braced against it. You follow closely, touching yourself as you look at me. You wait, and wait. The anticipation starts to make me antsy, and I wiggle my hips a little. "Was that begging, boi?"

"No Sir." My words are indistinct since I can't close my mouth, but I think you get the gist.

"I think it was. I think you were trying to get me to fuck you. Is that what you want, boi?"

"Always, Sir."

"Good thing it's not up to you, isn't it?" You slap my ass hard enough to make me hiss, and then punch the other side. Your hands fall on me over and over, on my legs, my back, and especially my ass. Each jolt of pain just makes me wetter. After a minute or two, you turn me around and push me to the ground to use my mouth. You fuck my face hard enough to make me gag and tear up. Once I start gagging, you pull me upright and start beating me again, from the front this time. You slap my cheeks, punch my chest, my thighs. I take it all for you, and for me too. Each strike, each blow is on the line between pain and pleasure.

We repeat the cycle several times, going between hard beatings and hard oral use. Every so often you pause to take a picture of my increasingly distressed state. Covered in rapidly darkening bruises and bite marks, hair standing up with sweat and from being pulled, face streaked with saliva and, now, some tears. Lips red and becoming chapped.

After one round of oral, you have me stand and face the wall. I am weak now, and leaning hard against the wall, my ass out and available to you. I hear you kneel behind me as I catch my breath, and hear the click of your phone's camera. "I think you should know what your cunt looks like right now, Clodia." You grab my neck and hold the phone in front of my face. I can see the picture you just took of me. My pussy is slick with wetness, shining in the camera flash. It's red, and puffy, and clearly ready for use. As my attention is drawn to it, I can feel now how much it is aching for you. I moan in embarrassment, and frustration, and pleasure.

"I guess for your own maintenance I had better fuck you, hadn't I? Well, if I must." And without warning you position your cock right against it and press all the way in to my cunt. I cry out at the sudden fullness. You growl and let out a deep breath as you plunge into me again, going to your full depth. I support myself against the wall and arch my back. You'll get a better experience that way, your cock rubbing against all the best spots inside me. You are in full predator mode, one hand around my throat, gripping hard, the other digging into my hip as you pound into me. I cry out in pain, whimpering as you thrust deeper. But I help you tear me apart, rocking back against you hard with each thrust. I can feel your balls slap my clit each time, and it's like a little tease, enough stimulation to feel good, but not enough to do anything.

I am aching with the desire to cum, but it isn't my time. I know that. I give you more with each thrust, pushing through the pain. Tears are flowing now, and you can feel my sobs, but it also feels deeply pleasurable. I love feeling you inside me, as you press against every tiny place in my cunt. Rubbing, teasing. Your hand leaves my hip and reaches in front to tickle my clit. Firmly, relentlessly, you keep stimulating me as you fuck me. My pussy tightens around you, more wetness escaping me, and you growl into my ear, "Don't. You may not cum yet, boi. That is an order. Don't fail me again." And so I hold back, whining in frustration. But the tightness pleased you. You growl low, biting me one more time before pulling out. "Kneel. Now. Hands behind your back."

I turn around and kneel, quickly but shakily, before you. You pull off the condom quickly and wrap one hand in my hair, the other around your cock. A few strokes is all it takes. You moan as you cum, as you release onto me. A little lands on my outstretched tongue, but you mostly aim elsewhere. Each squeeze from inside you paints another part of me -- my tongue, my cheeks, my chin, my tits. How you manage to aim or stay standing with such a hard cum is beyond me but you look me in the eyes the entire time. After a few shaky breaths you sink to the ground.

"Thank you, boi." You reach for your phone, and take a last photo of me. You turn the phone around so I can see myself. Face red and abused, tear-stained, covered in saliva and streaked with cum. You hand me my vibrator. "You can cum now, but only kneeling, and only looking at this." I take the vibrator and the phone. It's surprisingly easy to get off on my own degradation. I can see what you see in it -- the humiliation, yes, but also the sacrifice, the strength, the beauty of it. It builds quickly, and releases quickly, a much harder orgasm than my surprise one by myself, and harder than usual when someone is watching me. I moan, and almost fall over, but lean against the wall for support. "Thank you, Sir," I mumble around the gag.

I hear a click from my phone, which you had grabbed. "Lovely, boi. You are very much forgiven. And now you can remember this whenever you want." You hand me the phone, and come sit next to me, letting me nuzzle my head into your chest as you unbuckle my gag. I massage my jaw and close it slowly before I look up. You kiss me gently. "Thank you Clodia. Did you like your surprise?"

"Very much, Sir."

"Good. Let's clean you up." A warm shower, washing one another. You help me find a sleep shirt, choose tomorrow's underwear, and put me to bed. A soft kiss goodnight and one last squeeze before drifting off to sleep.