If your husband/wife/significant other forced you into chastity, made you go three years without an orgasm, then told you that your next orgasm will be your last ever, what would you do? Would you plead with your partner to let you have another afterwards? Would you accept your fate and try to make your last orgasm a memorable one? Or would you try and make your orgasm last forever?
Two months ago, I was told by my mistress that I was going to be given an orgasm; my first ever and the last one she would ever let me have.
"I know that I've always teased you by making you wonder what it is that you're missing, Emily, but I've decided to take off your chastity belt, and lick and vibe you to one incredible orgasm, so that for the rest of your entire life, you know exactly what it is you're being denied."
My mistress Wilda and I got together when I was seventeen and she was almost seventeen. We had been best friends for as long as I can remember. When I confessed I was gay and Wilda told me she was bisexual, becoming a couple felt natural. We were a normal couple of girls for the first year of our relationship. We took things slow and kept our relationship private. I'm sure the fact that we were dating went right over the heads of many boys at school.
Wilda was ready for sex before I was, and she frequently tried to get intimate when we were in private. It made me feel uncomfortable. I simply wasn't ready yet.
We finally had sex a little more than a year later on Wilda's eighteenth birthday. That day, I finally told her I was ready, I kissed her and thanked her for waiting for me, and then I sucked and licked and fucked her pussy with my mouth as best as I was able. I'd stripped off, Wilda only wore a T-shirt. After that first incredible orgasm she received, she urged me to climb onto the bed, and we laid there kissing, sharing her cum spattered on my lips and on my tongue, but her hands did not approach my own eager kitty.
"That was amazing, Emily. I'm so worn out. Can you just lie with me here for a while until I'm ready to make you feel special?"
"Of course!" I chirped. Knowing what I know now, I can tell you it was just a ploy. She had no intention of making me feel special. I don't know if Wilda planned on denying me from the moment she first tried to entice me to have sex with her, or if she decided it later. For all I know, she might have only decided that on her eighteenth birthday, while we went at it.
Perhaps, if I had just given myself to her sooner, I wouldn't be her chaste toy. I know I should just ask her, she's not the kind of mistress to punish me for that, but honestly, I think it is better if I never know what could have been, because this is the life I have, and for all the pain and humiliation, it's the one I want to live. I'm happy. In fact, I've never been happier.
I noticed a pattern over the next few months during sex. Wilda would kiss me and lick me and I'd get close, but then we'd switch, and I'd be the one getting her closer to the edge, but she'd always reach that orgasm, and by the time we switched again, my orgasm would seem so far away. When we played in positions where we could both extract pleasure, she'd often make a big show of moaning and squirming and taking her hands and lips off of me while she did. I really enjoyed seeing and hearing what I was doing to her, but judging by the perfect slave she has me trained to be these days, I know that what I was doing wasn't that great.
Those games continued until my birthday, when I turned nineteen, and she offered me my gift. She couldn't offer sex for the first time, but she did offer a new kind of sex. She could have offered my very first orgasm, but she went in the opposite direction, and presented her gift to me in private.
It was a steel chastity belt.
"Say something, Emily. Tell me what you're thinking. You know I don't like it when you make that face."
"Sorry, Wilda. I just don't know what to say. You want me to wear that?"
"Of course. It's your present, I don't see why I'd wear it."
"W-when will I be able to take it off?"
"When I say so. I'll keep the key on this chain around my neck just like this, so you know I won't lose it, okay? Trust me, Emily, when I let you out and make you cum it will feel ten times better after being in that belt."
"I suppose..."
"You suppose? Listen, Emily, if don't want to you don't have to. I can buy you a new present."
"I'm just a little scared."
"You know I'd never do anything to hurt you. This is what's best for you. After you've been in it for a couple of days you'll know that it makes you happy. And I can tell you right now that it will make me happy."
With that bit of encouragement, I opened the belt. I didn't say anything, but I was going to put it on. I think Wilda worried that I might back out at the last second.
"Allow me." She said, before practically yanking the thing out of my hands. She must have practised opening and closing the belt before, considering how fast she got it locked around my waist, separating me and my pussy for three whole years.
Of course, she didn't tell me I wasn't going to get let out. She promised that when I got out, my orgasm would be incredible. That we'd dedicate an entire day to my pleasure exclusively. I believed her, even as the week I was supposed to have it on became a fortnight, and then a month. Even as I started to get beyond frustrated, stopped serving her pussy, and started to act out. Even as--as a punishment for disobeying her--she told me I'd have to keep it on for another month. Which then became three months.
Whether I was good or bad, the belt stayed on. If I was good, she'd act like it was a reward, to stay in just that 'little' bit longer so that when I finally got out, my orgasm would be so worth the wait. If I was bad, staying in was a punishment, to teach me to behave and do as my mistress ordered. Extra rules and tasks were introduced as time went on. When we moved in together half a year after she first put me in chastity, she could really start to dominate me.
Wilda started to work at her Dad's company, and he paid well, well enough for us to get out own house. Not a flat, but a house. And he paid well enough that Wilda could support us on her own. She told me to become a housewife, so I did. I stayed at home keeping the place clean and tidy, and it didn't last long before she started making me wear a vibrator in my pussy while I worked to torment me. Wilda liked it when I begged for pretty much everything but a release. Begging her not to put a toy in me. Begging to let me lick her pussy. Begging her not to release all of the dirty pictures she had of me. By then, the prospect that I would get a release seemed so foolish. I only lived to serve her, and my brain had rewired itself. I got a unique sensation pulsing throughout my whole body the likes of which I felt under no other circumstances when I pleased my mistress. It was not a pleasurable sensation necessarily, but rather a sense of accomplishment. No, I don't think that's right either. It was more like... I was fulfilling my duty. Serving her had become my source of pleasure now, and I lived to be the best tease toy I could be.
Wearing a vibrator in my pussy most of the time graduated to every single night. To this day my mistress makes me sleep in the sexiest lingerie she can find, while she mostly sleeps nude. She likes the feeling of it, and enjoys rubbing up against me at her leisure to enjoy the feel of silky bras and panties and nylon hold ups. But I--forced to endure that all night--writhing around in my belt with a vibrator inside, desperately trying not to moan and wake my mistress--I feel like I could burn a hole right through the bed every single night.
When Wilda demanded that I start to wear a metal collar to show that I'm owned, that's when she started telling people of our D/s lifestyle. I had to start wearing other restraints in public as well, such as my leather wrist and ankle restraints, unlocked, but visible to show everyone that at some point, I'd be bound to our bed getting teased by my mistress. If I wear skirts or dresses, she'll put me in thigh restraints chained to my belt and to each other to force me to walk with dainty steps.
Wilda started online accounts to post videos of her teasing me, but didn't tell me the account names, so I couldn't find them online.
On top of that, I started wearing a blindfold when she teased me more and more often, many times I didn't even know whether she was filming me or not. All of our friends knew the account names of the sites we were on, but were under strict orders not to tell me.
It was so humiliating to hear them compliment me for a video they saw during a tender moment I thought my mistress and I were sharing exclusively. I didn't even know where the cameras were hidden, but I knew she must have hid some somewhere. In all my time cleaning the place on my own, I've never found a single one.
As part of those games and videos, Wilda became my 'mummy', and I, her 'baby girl'. I don't wear diapers, thankfully, but she did get me plenty of 'little' clothes that adult babies wear, she sometimes makes me suck on a pacifier, I even have a pacifier gag. It's mostly for the videos, but she does sometimes make me act like a baby for fun.
"Emily! I have a treat for you!" She called out in a playful voice. I'll never forget that day; the day Wilda forced me to 'become' bisexual.
"I'm here, mummy." I nervously told her, appearing from another room. I knew that she was going to tease me, that's what that tone of voice meant. But as usual, I had no idea how.
"So Pete was telling me how he'd love to fuck you. Of course, I told him you're a chastity toy, so there's no way he can do that, but he made the next best offer. He asked if I could let you eat his cum."
"Eat cum?!" I cried out. Saying no was pointless. I had to desperately hope that 'no' is what my mistress had decided for me, but seeing her pull out a tied up condom, I knew the answer.
"So I jerked him off and got this nice tasty treat for you. Let me just untie it for you."
