The Masturbatrix

I don't know how long Amy let me sleep, but I was startled awake by the feel of her hands stroking my cock. I noticed I my dick was sore from being jacked off earlier. Even in my groggy state, I reached instinctively to protect my crotch, but Amy pushed my hands away. I quickly remembered it was better not to challenge Amy, so I quickly gave in to her touches. As my sleepy head began to clear, I thought to myself: "Alright, fine. Go ahead girl. Indulge your obsession. You might get me hard, but I've already gotten off twice. There's no more cum left to be had in these balls."

Or at least that's what I thought at the time.

It did take Amy a bit longer to coax my body to respond, but persistent work from her skilled fingers began to have an effect. Slowly and gently, she rolled my stiffening cock between her palms, playing seductively with it like so much fleshy play doh. For the first time that night, she took my cockhead between her lips, sucking slowly and gradually, until it began to swell against the roof of her mouth. I felt her rub the crease of my glans up and down with firm strokes of her tongue. Randomly, Amy reached between my legs and tickled under my balls. With the surprise of each touch, I could feel increased flow of blood to my dick. Little by little, my cock responded until it was hard and stiff again.

Amy let my cock slip from her lips and looked up at me. "Can we play a game?" she asked mischievously.

"What else have we... have YOU been doing all evening but playing games?" I responded sounding a bit more annoyed than I intended.

She gave me a stern look, but then her hand resumed caressing my ball sack with gentle, even strokes, and I forgot all about being annoyed.

"Well, I take all of this very seriously, Scott. I suppose some people might think a little too seriously. I've been accused of getting carried away at times. Honestly, I don't really think any of this is a game. It means more than that to me. I get laser-focused on what I want to do to your body, and I have very specific notions of what needs to happen. If your perspective and mine don't match, I get it. If I'm making you uncomfortable, I'm willing to stop. All you need to do is say the word."

Thinking back, I now realize the skill with which Amy was manipulating my emotions. As she talked, her talented fingers worked my cock shaft and balls. The shaft was slick with her spit, and the way she held my glistening dick next to her face as she spoke really turned me on. Her fingers moved over the skin of my cock with sticky friction, sending tingles through my crotch. Despite the words that were coming out of her mouth, I don't believe she had any intention of stopping unless it was her idea. But I very much wanted to believe her words. I allowed her to lull me into a state of complacency, and the way she played with my cock made certain I had every incentive to let her continue. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was causing me to think with my dick and not with my brain. So of course, I gave her the exact response she was looking for.

"No,... no, Amy. I totally understand. I mean, you've been fantastic. I've cum harder tonight than probably any time in my life. It's just... I'm sorry. I really don't want you to stop. So, what kind of game did you have in mind?" My hard-on was raging. I could feel my heart beating through my chest, and I wanted her to keep playing with my cock in a very bad way. Fuck, she already had me wanting to cum again.

Amy smiled reassuringly. "I'm so glad you feel that way. I want you to enjoy all this just as much as I do." As she spoke, she cradled my balls in her palm, wrapped three of her fingers around the skin of my sack, and began to squeeze and pull my balls ever so slightly away from my body. Her eyes were fixed on mine. She bent her head, and I watched as her tongue slowly emerged from her mouth to circle my swollen cockhead several times, after which she stopped to look up and give me a devious wink. "So, then. I take it I might be able to interest you in a little fantasy?"

"What kind of fantasy?" I said. Her touches on my dick felt so fucking good, and I wanted more. She had me hook, line, and sinker, and she knew it.

"Stretch out your arms and legs as far as they'll go, toward the corners of the bed. Yes, that's it. Really stretch."

I began to follow her directions. As I spread my body wide with limbs all splayed out flat, I felt a little silly. I was wondering what was coming next.

"Now, close your eyes, Scott, and imagine you're going to be tied up as you lay here just like that."

I immediately tensed with panic and sat up on my elbows.

"No, no,... relax!" Amy was simultaneously laughing and trying to calm me down. "I mean just imagine it silly. Imagine it with your mind. I'm not really going to tie you up or anything. Right now, this is all voluntary and in your mind. That's what makes it exciting and challenging."

I was reassured and nodded my agreement. She propped my head up on a pillow and then knelt on the bed between my legs. I relaxed and got back into my spread-eagle position.

Amy resumed stroking my balls and shaft. "Now. That's better. Imagine you are my prisoner." She said the words with a surprising intensity. "You must not move. You cannot move. You are tied to this bed. I can do anything with you that I want. And I'm going to."

One of Amy's hands grasped firmly onto my balls, and the other reached around the base of my cock. She began a circular massaging motion of my entire package, almost as if she thought it was possible to detach my dick from my body. The strength and force of the movement sent a strong pulling sensation into the core of my crotch that I found intensely arousing. From time to time, she stopped and ran her thumb slowly up the length of my cock, ending with a flick against my shaft that caused me to jump and twitch each time. My reaction was partly from the suddenness of the sensation but also from the anticipation of not knowing the precise moment when the finger flick would happen. She intended to keep me guessing and on edge. It was obvious that Amy sensed my uncertainty and how it was contributing to my heightened arousal. My predicament made her laugh teasingly.

"I've got you right where I want you. I can make this cock do anything I choose." She sounded serious as she looked directly into my eyes. "Anything I choose. But this only works if you don't move. That is very, very important. Do you understand? Answer me so that I know you heard me."

I glanced up at Amy just enough to watch her manipulation of my cock. "I understand. I will not move."

"Good. Keep your arms and legs spread. You're tied up, remember? If you move, this game is over. I mean it."

She continued with her manipulation of my dick, repeating many of the routines from our earlier time in the kitchen. Her actions were designed to be random and unpredictable. She swung my stiff cock side-to-side in a wild a rapid motion. She slapped the shaft with her open palm. She casually flicked the tip with her finger. She took me slowly into her mouth, stroking my shaft with leisurely, teasing motions until I was sure I was going to blow my load down her throat. She would randomly start jacking me furiously as if she wanted to rip my dick from my body. Before long, my balls began to ache. They felt full and ready to unload their cum.

But I don't think Amy really cared about any of that. She exhibited endless energy and an inexhaustible imagination for exactly what to do to prolong the torment of my cock. This teasing routine was simultaneously agonizing and arousing. I began to lose track of time and felt dazed from the overstimulation.

Without warning I felt both of Amy's hands grip my cock shaft with surprising strength. The grip pressure was just on the border of being painful. She let go of the lower portion of the shaft with one hand, but continued to squeeze with the other, just below my cockhead. She then used her free hand to begin slapping my balls. Once again, the intervals were random, and I couldn't anticipate when the next slap would come. They began softly but gradually got more intense. As she slapped, Amy maintained an iron grip on my shaft. I soon found myself squirming involuntarily and wanting to move out of the position I'd held faithfully to that point. Things were starting to hurt. On about the tenth or twelfth smack, feelings of fear and worry overcame my ability to lie still. I panicked.

Reflexively, I reached for Amy's free hand to ward off the slap and scooted my body purposely to one side, abandoning my spread-eagled position.

Amy abruptly released her grip on my dick, stopped all movement, and sat back with an incredulous look on her face. "What are you doing, Scott? I told you not to move."

I instantly realized I'd made a huge mistake. It was clear Amy was not happy. Though her tone was quiet and reserved, I could tell she was pissed.

"Uh,... I'm sorry," I said in a quiet voice, and I moved to lay back slowly, reassuming my prior

position. Feelings of regret immediately filled my head.

"You're sorry. That's all you've got to say? Remember, when I started this little game, I was clear about the rules. You were not supposed to move. You said you understood. I warned you. You blew it, Scott. I'm done." Amy rose from the bed and moved to leave. She began walking to the door.

Now I really panicked.

"No, no, no. Amy, wait! Really, I'm sorry. I won't move again, I promise. I screwed up. It's just that your slaps were getting kind of rough, and well... I wasn't expecting that. I guess I got scared."

Truth be told, I was aroused as hell. My cock was still rock hard, even with the stress I was feeling at that moment. It was sticking out from my body at such a severe angle, I'm sure I looked ridiculous as I scrambled off the bed in my attempt to persuade Amy not to leave. I wanted her to stay in the worst way. No, it was worse than wanting her to stay. I needed her to stay. I would have denied it at the time, but more than anything, I wanted Amy to make me cum again. That was the fatal error that led to the next words that came out of my mouth.

"Look. Give me a second chance. Please. If you don't trust me to lie still, I'll let you tie me up for real this time."

Amy instantly stopped walking. She paused, with her back still toward me, as if she was thinking. Even with the stress of that moment I was marveling at the shape of her sweet ass. I stared at its perfect curves being hugged by her tight jeans. Fuck! I was horny. What I really wanted was to bend her over and take her, right there and then. All of Amy's antics had made me crazy with lust and the desire to cum. I was hoping beyond hope that she would not just leave me there hanging and unsatisfied.

Without saying a word, Amy slowly and deliberately pivoted on one foot back to face me. I stood there with my gigantic hard-on pointing at the ceiling, and I'm sure my face was covered with a pathetic pout. I was not sure what to expect, but then Amy let out a soft chuckle.

"Are you serious, Scott? Truly serious? You need to be careful what you wish for."

"Yes, I mean it. I really do. I trust you, Amy. I'll be your real prisoner, if that's what you want. If that will get you to stay."

That was all she needed to hear. Amy ran over to do a quick search of my closet and found four of my neck ties. She returned to the bed where I stood.

"Lay down, Scott, right back where you were before. Stretch out those arms and legs, and I'll try to remember the knots I learned when I was a girl scout." She used the neck ties to anchor me to the bed, expertly tying perfect half hitches around each wrist and ankle. I knew the more I pulled against them, the tighter those knots would become. Once finished, she laughed again. "Now I have you right where I want you. You are mine, Scott, my toy for the remainder of the night. A toy to be used until I no longer want to play with you." She pulled open several of my dresser drawers until she found a pair of socks. She rolled one up into a ball. "Open your mouth, Scott. Do it, now." I complied without really thinking, and Amy stuffed the sock between my teeth.

There was no turning back now. Amy resumed her cock manipulation routine with renewed enthusiasm, and she gradually brought me back to the stage of arousal that had gotten me into trouble in the first place. She began again to repeatedly slap my balls. As before, the first slaps were gentle, but slowly, ever so slowly, she increased the force of the impact from her open hand. It was then I truly began to appreciate the level of her skill. Amy was creating a strategic balance between pleasure and pain. She knew exactly when to stop and give me a break. Just at the point when I thought I couldn't stand one more slap -- when I was groaning so loudly through the sock in my mouth - she would pause.

During each pause she would languidly suck my cockhead into her mouth, holding the shaft tightly with her hand and pressing the head very hard against the roof of her mouth with her tongue. Gradually, she would allow the head to slip from her mouth, making sure to graze it against the edges of her teeth before caressing it softly between both lips. Then she would end the sequence of the torturous routine with ever so gentle bites and nibbles up and down the shaft, sometimes lingering for an almost unbearably long time in the crease right below the slit of my cock,... before starting the entire process over from the beginning.

After enduring the first few sequences, I fought an ever-increasing urge to scream. By the fourth or fifth round, I no longer cared. I had been driven into a sexual frenzy by her stimulation. I cried out. I could hear my voice muffled by the sock gag. Hearing myself scream only added to my level of arousal. After each sting of pain from one of Amy's slaps, the pleasure sensation that soon followed brought me ever closer to the edge of orgasm. I wanted to cum. I needed to cum. But no matter how I squirmed, Amy just continued to do whatever she liked. My dick was reaching for the ceiling, as improbably hard as it has ever been - and my mind had gone over the top. All thinking slowed, and I felt myself enter a kind of altered state. I had never experienced anything like it before. I was more fully aware of my body than I thought possible, aware of every movement as Amy ministered attention to my cock, aware of every nerve ending in my skin, and with every moment that passed, increasingly aware of how much I desperately longed to cum. Somehow though, Amy made me feel as if I was drifting above it. Almost like I was not inside my own body.

The firm sound of Amy's voice snapped me back to reality. She began speaking to me in steady tones.

"Scott, look at me. Look right into my eyes. Keep them open. That's it. Keep looking right here."

Her commands brought me back to earth, and my bed, with a jolt. Amy had positioned her body quite close. She bent her torso over my face, but she reached back with one hand and began pumping my dick rhythmically. I looked into Amy's eyes. She was totally focused on me, staring deeply at me as I breathed heavily. Her hand seemed to have its own separate existence, moving methodically while her eyes held mine with an unwavering gaze. "Don't look away. Come on baby." I felt my third orgasm approaching like a Mack truck. I realized she knew it too, but even though she said nothing, I also knew that she wanted me to try to hold it back. I let my eyes stray to her stroking hand on my cock.

"Scott! Scott! Don't look down. Don't you dare." She had seen me look away. She would have none of that. With her free hand she reached to grip my chin firmly and shook my face. "Look at me, Scott. That's better." Her powerful stroking hand continued its relentless assault of my cock. "You have cum twice now. Are you ready for another?" Her breath was directly in my face, and her hand on my chin would not let me look away. I was almost there. I could feel the orgasm's surge increase.

But then the stroking abruptly stopped.

"GAAAH!" My cry was loud even though muffled by the gag. Amy reached and pulled the sock from my mouth. "What the hell!" I was indignant, and I'm sure it showed.

Amy just stared calmly into my face. "How old are you, Scott?"

The question was totally out of left field. It made no sense. "What? Uh,...." My mouth was dry. I had been so close to cumming. I could hardly speak, let alone remember my age. It took significant effort to think. "Uh,... I'm 35. Why?"

"So, you've had a good number of years to learn how to play with this cock of yours. I wonder, Scott, have you made good use of this dick?" I felt her give my erection an hard squeeze. I wasn't sure where Amy was going with this, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Amy continued staring right into my eyes, and I was having difficulty meeting her gaze. "Scott, Look at me. Pay attention when I'm talking to you."

I forced myself to look directly at Amy.

"Yes. That's it. Now tell me. How often do you jack off?"

I had no idea how to respond. "Um,... god, Amy, I don't know. How much does any guy jack off?" I really did not want to talk about this, and I felt a rush of embarrassment. I broke Amy's gaze and looked away. But I still felt the squeeze of Amy's hand, and I could not resist the temptation to look back down at her solid grip on my dick.

Without warning, Amy slapped my face. Not hard, but stiffly enough to get my attention. Then she doubled the squeeze of pressure on my cock. With her other hand she firmly gripped my jaw, forcing me to look back into her face. She repeated her question. "I said, how often do you jack off?"

I responded without really thinking. "Geez! Okay,... two, maybe three times a week... I think. God! I don't know. I just do it when I feel like it. Do guys really count each time?"

My cheek stung from the slap. I didn't like it, and I was bothered by Amy's bizarre personal questions and uninterrupted gaze. Meanwhile, her constant squeezing of my cock was causing me to come dangerously close to another orgasm. The only thing holding it off was the fact that Amy was keeping her hand very still.

"Well then. Based on that, I'd say you've probably had thousands of orgasms over the years, is that right?"

I hesitated again, still not sure where this conversation was headed or knowing what to say.

"Scott, IS THAT RIGHT! Amy yelled right in my face.

I stuttered back. "Uh, god,..., Amy, can we please stop talk... please let me...."

"Answer my question, Scott." Amy's voice was slow and measured. There was very little emotion. I was kind of freaked out. I decided it was best to do as she asked.

"Yes, I guess so. You're probably right. I've probably jacked-off thousands of times over the years." I felt off-balance and unsure of myself.

Amy seemed pleased with herself and with my confused and agitated state. "Well, Scott. It might surprise you, but I already know more about your dick than you have learned in all your years of jacking off. Even after all those orgasms. Men are typically very disconnected from their sexuality. So out of touch with their own bodies. You primarily think about how you want - or need - to get off, but you pay very little attention to how you get there."

Amy's steady gaze caused her words to sink in. I was being forced to pay attention. She continued.

"Even though we've just met, and I've only made you cum twice, I am confident I know more about your sexual capabilities than you do. I'm going to prove it to you. First, I know you are about to cum. I can tell you are right on the edge. You have been for a while now. I've felt it. You want it so bad you can almost taste it. The urge is nearly overwhelming your mind. Am I right?"