The Dice Game

I slid my key into the lock on Mistress' door and felt the usual thrill of anticipation run through me. What was going to happen? Would I like it? Most importantly of all, would I get to cum? I had no choice, of course, my submission was like an addictive drug, and only she could provide my next hit. And she had made it very clear that if I ever – ever – thought of breaking the habit, then the contents of her "blackmail book" would find their way into the wrong hands. I surely did not want that. The photos of me in her panties were bad enough, but the action shots – me licking my own cum from Mistress' shoe, Mistress fucking my ass with a strapon, me bent over with a red, strapped ass – if those fell into the wrong hands, I was ruined.

I locked the door behind me and stripped down to my lacy black panties. I had been made to throw out all of my male underwear, except one pair for emergencies, which could only be worn with Mistress' permission. I folded my clothes and piled them neatly – Mistress could not abide messiness – then knelt on a cushion she had set there, to await her.

In just a few moments she turned up, looking incredibly hot in a short, short black velvet skirt over a lace and satin teddy which hid and yet highlighted her fantastic breasts. She was luscious, and any man would have grabbed her to fuck her right then and there. But I am no longer a man, I am a slave toy. I waited, but my eyes and my cock betrayed my arousal.

She stood atop the short flight of stairs in the entryway, looking down upon me, striking a little pose to ensure she had my full attention. "Come here, sub toy."

I rose and walked silently up the stairs, stopping one stair short of her so our faces were level. Her arms snaked around me and we began to kiss, a few soft kisses at first, followed by deeper, more passionate kisses. My tongue slid into her mouth and caressed hers, but then she took control and slid her tongue into my mouth, kissing me aggressively and possessively. Even her kiss reminded me that she owned me.

On a nearby table was a small velvet rectangle, which Mistress had instructed me to hem up at the same time, and with the same fabric, as I made the skirt she was wearing. I had no idea what it was for, but it looked like I was now going to find out.

Mistress produced a dice, black with red pips, and explained tonight's evil plan. "In a moment, sub toy, I am going to get you to guess a number from one to six, then I will roll the dice. If you guess right, you cum tonight. If you guess wrong, no cumming for you. And the number I roll ... that is how many orgasms you are going to give me before you may go. Understood?"

I understood. Multiple orgasms for her, and a one in six shot for me. That sounded fair. But fuck, I hoped I guessed right. I was horny as hell before turning up, and seeing Mistress looking so hot, then kissing her deep, had only made things worse. "Now, sub toy, turn away."

I turned, and heard her toss the dice onto the velvet square. "Oh, I am going to have fun," she said softly, as though to herself but clearly intending for me to hear. So did that mean I should guess a higher number? Or was she faking me out? "Tell me your guess, sub toy."

I took a deep breath. One number was as good as another really. "Four, Mistress."

"You may turn around."

I turned, and my eyes went straight to the velvet square. It was empty. I would have no idea whether I was going to cum until the moment arrived, and I had no idea how many orgasms Mistress was owed. I groaned softly and she laughed, leading me by the dick into the bedroom.

Mistress allowed me to undress her. Unzipping her skirt, I followed it down to her ankles with a train of kisses, then set it to one side. Instead of immediately removing the teddy, I kissed her sweet pussy through the lacy fabric, soon soaking it with her juices and my saliva. Mistress ran her fingers through my hair until she decided it was time to continue. At that, she gripped my hair in her fingers, pulling it. "Nobody said to eat me, subtoy."

I helped her from her teddy, folded it atop the skirt, and took in the incredibly hot sight of Mistress' naked body. She was mouth-watering.

Mistress had me lay down on my front on the bed, with my knees bent and my hands behind me. In a trice, she snapped wrist and ankle cuffs on me, and joined them, holding me in a hogtie position. When I raised my head, I was in the perfect position to eat her pussy and she lay, with her legs spread wide for my tongue. I began by kissing her inner thighs, hovering over her pussy, warming it with my breath but not actually touching it. She began squirming, trying to move her lips towards mine. Eventually, after she had chased for a few minutes, I began licking the outer lips of her labia in long, slow strokes, slower towards the bottom when her juices were flowing and tasting so good. My tongue snaked into her open pussy, tongue-fucking her as far in as I could, while the tip of my nose began teasing her clit. I felt like I was drowning in pussy juice, and I loved it.

Mistress reached down to grab my hair again, pulling me upwards slightly. She wanted my tongue on her clit, and she wanted it now. It was beautifully swollen, and I began teasing it from one side to the other and back, feeling Mistress shudder each time, soft moans escaping her. She must have been hot before we began, to be this close this quick. I increased my pace, rhythmically painting her clit with my tongue. So close. She began talking dirty, which I adored. "Fuck yes, you pussylicking bitch. Eat me. Fuck, I'm gonna cum so bad ..."

I felt the spasms start deep within her, and rise to the surface. Her moans reached a crescendo and teetered for a moment on the brink, before she fell over it and came hard, her hands holding me in place and her hips bucking against me. Mistress rode my face through her orgasm and eventually sank against the bed, her breathing rapid and deep. Still locked in place, I began lapping the juices from her thighs, avoiding her too-sensitive clit.

When she recovered, Mistress unlocked me and kissed me deep again, telling me I was the best pussy eater she had ever known. I flushed at the compliment. We relaxed together for little while, laying on the best for a glass of vodka and some light conversation. I grew anxious after a while. Had she rolled a 1? Was the night over? Eventually, though, she took my drink from me and propped a pillow upright against the bedhead. "Sit against the bedhead, toy."

I sat, and she tied my wrists to the bedposts, my arms reaching out to the sides. An additional binding at the elbows gave me support and made the arrangement inescapable. She spread my legs as wide as they could comfortably go, and smiled broadly at the sight. "Stay there a moment." Yeah, as if I could go anywhere. She returned with a camera and snapped a couple of photos of me. "This is too nice to miss."

When she was done, Mistress produced her favorite vibrator, a long pink one with a clit stimulator. She sat opposite me, her legs spread and over mine. She was so close, within easy touching distance ... and yet I could not. Mistress grinned wickedly and popped the tip of the vibe into her mouth, giving it a wicked teasing blowjob which I could feel from memory, my cock iron-hard at the sight of her show and at the memory of just how good it feels. Leaning back slightly, she eased the vibe slowly inside her pussy, all the way in until the clit stimulator connected. Oh, how I envied that fucking vibe. I wanted to be inside her, feeling the tightness of her pussy, not watching some vibe take her instead.

When it was in, she turned it on low, and began stroking gently. Her eyes became unfocussed her head lolled back, as the vibes and the strokes, and the buzzing of her clit, transported her. I was irrelevant to her at that moment, all that mattered were the waves of sensation flowing into her from the vibrator. It was one hell of a show, her breasts moving and swaying with her body, her muscles tensing, relaxing, then tensing again. Where her legs crossed mine, I could feel even those muscles responding. Mistress' other hand began toying with her nipples, gently pinching them, rolling them between finger and thumb.

I felt my muscles tensing too, my arms pressing uselessly against the ropes; my hips humping pathetically into nothing, my cock bobbing, seeking but finding nothing. It was so erotic, yet so utterly frustrating.

The speed of the vibrations increased, followed shortly by the speed of her strokes. Soft moans became higher pitched and shorter. Her eyes were completely closed now, her entire body focused on her pussy and clit. The futile thrusting of my hips matched her for pace, but not for sensation. Faster, she went, and faster. Her high pitched yips came closer and closer together until a low, continuous groan replaced them, starting deep within her and building up, her hand working faster and faster as the groan rose, until every muscle in her entire body tensed at once. She teetered on the edge, then fell over it, a crashing orgasm flowing through her, leaving her slumped back on the bed, quivering, the vibe falling from her to rest between her legs, her pussy splayed wide, so close to me yet so unreachable. All I could do was watch, and try to remember to breathe occasionally.

I have no idea how long Mistress lay there. I watched as her pussy seemed to pulse, then slowed, still puffed with arousal and leaking a tiny rivulet of her juices. Eventually, she stirred and sat up, looking at me just a little abashed. Now that she had cum, I think she was even a little embarrassed at having lost it in front of an audience, even if the audience was just me. She brought the vibe so my mouth and I sucked it hungrily, tasting her on the long pink shaft. Even second hand, she was delicious. As I did so, Mistress stroked a finger once along my cock, which was hard and slick with pre-cum. "I think you liked my little show," she breathed softly. Mouth full of fake cock, all I could do was nod enthusiastically.

We took another break, Mistress slipping on a dark blue satin robe and untying me from the bedhead. It suddenly hit me that if my guess had been correct I still had to help Mistress cum twice more. I would be a mess by the time I got my turn. But I was still loving every second of it.

When we had rested enough, Mistress shed her robe and led me back to the bed. She lay on her back and spread her legs wide. The sight had immediate effect upon my poor, denied cock, which stood up and began straining towards her. "Come over here and slide inside me," she said softly. I moved quickly to obey, supporting my weight on my elbows and nestling my cock at the entrance to her pussy, then slowly pushing inside her, feeling her warmth envelop me, and sliding slowly against the slick wetness of two orgasms tonight already. I had to go slowly ... too quickly and I'd have cum immediately, such was my arousal. When I was fully inside her, I leaned down and kisses her softly as she spoke my thoughts. "I love that feeling, slaveboy. Fake cock just isn't the same as this."

She continued. "Your third challenge, little slave, is to give me ten slam strokes without cumming. They don't have to be one after another, but there do have to be ten."

My eyes widened at this. "Slam strokes" was Mistress' term for when I fucked her with my entire weight driving the stroke. Normally they were only used during the rare occasions when Mistress allowed me to fuck her like a man, and only ever when I was on the point of cumming. To give her ten ... without cumming! ... seemed almost impossible. And yet I had to. I am her slave, and it is her cock, and she decides what she wants.

I drew my body back for the first, leaving my cock only just far enough inside her to be secure. Poised on hands and tiptoes, I thrust upwards with all the strength in my legs, slamming my cock inside her. Mistress moaned, a guttural animal moan. She loved slam strokes. For a moment my cock threatened to cum, but a few deep breaths and a few still moments pulled me back from the brink. When I was sure I was in control I began slowly pulling out again. Mistress' hand crept between us, and her fingers found her clit, rubbing it in soft circles. When I was at full stretch, she pulled her hands away and I slammed her again, and again teetered on the edge before regaining control.

So the pattern went, with Mistress stroking her clit between strokes, and me managing – just – to stay in control. The pauses between slam strokes became longer and longer. By number 7 the effort was unbelievable, and Mistress was responding more and more to her fingers between strokes, the muscles of her pussy teasingly massaging my cock inside her. I had no idea whether I could keep this up without erupting inside her. But I had to. I lifted myself, paused for a moment, then thrust had down into her, causing a happy moan from her and a groan of massive effort from me. Eight. She was getting closer and closer with each thrust. I concentrated on my breathing, feeling the sensations from my cock fall slowly away until I could manage again. Mistress' fingers caused more ripples and spasms inside her. Eventually, millimeter by slow millimeter, I pulled out of her, and thrust back in. Nine. Oh, fuck, I was going to cum, fuck fuck fuck ... breathe ... slowly, slowly, I pulled back from the brink. One more. Just one more.

Mistress' fingers were a blur as I drew out of her this time, getting herself closer and closer to her third orgasm for the evening. She began to thrash under me, right on the point of spilling over. SLAM, I pounded into her and sent her over the edge. Her hands went to the cheeks of my ass, nails digging in as she held me into her, her pussy alive all over my cock, recovery almost impossible for me ... almost ... but somehow I held off. When her hands left my asscheeks, I slowly drew out of her and sat back, my rigid cock standing tall but frustrated.

Mistress noticed too. "Looks like somebody really, really wants to cum."

"Yes, Mistress, so badly!"

"I am proud of you, my slave, for making it through that. I didn't think you could, and was going to deny you for two weeks as punishment." I shuddered at the thought.

"May I make you cum again, Mistress, then cum myself? Please?"

She must have known what the answer was, but she made a show of pausing to consider. Stretching out my agony. "Slave, get me my cellphone." I was confused. What could that have to do with whether I could cum or not? Still, I stood, my cock seeming to project about three feet in front of me, and got her phone. She pressed a few buttons then showed me the screen. On the screen was a photo, taken with the phone's camera. A dice. Showing three pips.

It took a moment for the consequences of the photo to sink in, then I realized. We were done! Three for her, and none for me. I was to be sent home like this, straining, wanting, driving myself crazy. I should have cum while slamming her, and taken the punishment. Except that I wouldn't have done it. I needed to obey. Fuck!

Mistress watched, amused, as realization hit me. "Slaveboy, it's time for you to go home now. But you have impressed me tonight, so I'm willing to let you cum in the morning. Make yourself a slice of toast, cum on it, to thoughts of tonight's fun, then have a yummy breakfast. Goodnight, my slave."

Mistress rolled over and let me see myself out. It would be a frustrating night, but I wouldn't have it any other way.