I opened my eyes and looked into hers. “Julia, I think you know what happened,” I said with a mixture of amusement and impatience. She stroked more intensely. “Oh my God Julia…”
“Awww…did someone see something that bothered him *so much* seven days ago?”
“Yes, someone saw something that bothered him *so much* seven days ago,” I mocked, laughing while I repeated her words.
“So much he needed to cum, didn’t he? That must have been quite the sight. I bet you’re thinking about it now,” she coyly concluded. “You’re usually so good at waiting for me. So disciplined. You must have been so, so bothered by whatever you saw…” she trailed on.
“You must have seen something that’s etched into that brilliant boy brain of yours. It sounds like quite a distraction. You’re usually so good for me…you must have been so overwhelmed…” she whispered. I closed my eyes again but only saw the video she’d sent me replay in my mind. I immediately reopened my eyes. Julia’s smile was turning into a laugh.
Julia began stroking me with both hands. They were coated in Uberlube.
The “waiting” Julia referred to was what the rest of the kink world called “chastity.” But we rarely used the “c” word because it had a hypnotic, stupefying effect upon me when coming from Julia. Using the “c” word was counterproductive if our goal was actual extended chastity. Julie sometimes described fantasies of putting me in extended chastity after she had restrained me so I was helpless to respond. She would tease and fuck my mind with descriptions of desperate, involuntary chastity before making me cum my brains out.
What we actually did we called “waiting” between sessions. The “waiting” was rarely mandatory, and Julia almost never punished me for orgasming while we were apart. The exception was if I truly went overboard and came too much. She wanted all excessive reserved for time with her, whether the excess was teasing or cumming. Other than that, she warmly appreciated my effort at “waiting” between sessions and was entertained when I couldn’t wait. In a frank moment early in our relationship, Julia told me she didn’t find my libido was compatible with chastity, my cock wasn’t a good fit for a cage, and she didn’t want to mess with my gym time. She was also turned on by the idea of me being uncaged. “I have plenty of boys I will lock up. I want you to be free.”
Julia’s liberal approach produced the strange effect of easing me into almost complete and voluntary “waiting” for her. Early in our relationship, particularly when her kinky side came out, I needed to orgasm more than ever simply because of the urgency caused by being with her. I couldn’t get enough of playing with Julia. But after we’d eased into a power exchange, I was gradually able to wait two days, then three, and then five. And while I appreciated Julia’s implicit compliments about my libido being too high for chastity, I didn’t want her to think I was incapable of being disciplined and exercising self-control for her. So I waited…and waited…and waited. Five days eventually stretched to 10. Once at 10 I needed to take her badly and repeatedly. But she never let it be that simple. She would direct my overflowing desire for her into acts of submission to her. “If you want to have your way with me, you’re going to wait until I have my way with you.”
The waiting produced incredible rewards when we were together. The honeymoon period of our relationship never lapsed, and I simply couldn’t consume enough of Julia. And as strict and imposing as Julia could be about orgasm control when we were together, she was incredibly warm and encouraging about my efforts to wait for her in between our meetings. Rather than expecting I had waited, she would earnestly ask whether I had made it long, smile with pleasure if I had, and gush with surprise at what I endured for her.
The contrast with Julia’s submissives was extreme. I had eventually become aware that Julia regularly handed out multi-week chastity sentences that were automatically extended at an unsolicited complaint. There was no such thing as early release in Julia’s world. But sentence extensions were common.
I once asked Julia how she pulled off these chastity extensions without someone crying foul. “Why would they ever object?” she asked, incredulously. I glanced at her with skepticism.
She then mocked herself and let me in on a minor play secret, saying in her own dominatrix-y voice, “You’ve been such a good boy for me…and for such a long time. Are you comfortable with me wearing a lot less than usual when we play today?” She started sensuously undressing for effect before concluding, “I only ask that you wait another week for me.” Then she winked at me and broke character.
Julia didn’t want me to get too good at waiting. So she’d recently started making sure I was “bothered” while we were apart. It was a way to keep me on my toes and to feel out a sense for what fetishes I might be vulnerable to. What would make me lose control? She was developing that sense.
“So, do you want to fuck me through this floor, or are you still thinking about that naughty video you saw? Maybe you’d like that more than sex…”
“No…Julia…” I gasped. Then I grunted as she stroked me again. Her hand was achieving a hypnotic effect.
“Ahhhhhh” she signed. Then she laughed. “That thing you saw. What if I did that to you? How would that make you feel?”
“Oh my God Julia…STOP”
“Get on your back, baby.”
“No.”
“On your back…”
“No!”
I slipped her thong to the side, kissed her, and thrust down towards her. She was surprised, but rather than resisting, she deftly edged into position and used her hand to guide me into her. I gasped, and so did Julia. We shared the urgent pleasure of unexpected but desperately-needed sex. I pinned her wrists above her head again and firmly held them there. She pulled me in even tighter with her legs. Her pussy felt amazing. I drove into her as we kissed.
Julia broke the kiss. “Listen to me. David…listen to me.” She gasped between thrusts and I kissed her again.
Julia wrestled one hand free and smacked me across the face. She smacked me again, hard.
“David, listen.” SMACK again.
I looked deep into her blue eyes. She was on fire with arousal.
“Listen to me…”
“Julia…?”
“You are not going to cum in me. Not while you fuck me on the floor. You’re not going to cum. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me you understand me.”
“I understand you.”
“No, tell me you understand me that that you’re not going to cum.”
“Oh my God…Julia, why?”
“Tell me you’re not going to cum.” She wrapped her free hand around my balls and began to squeeze as she kissed me. She squeezed.
“Julia, I understand you. I’m not going to cum.”
“Ok…good boy…” Her intensity immediately faded and her body relaxed into deep pleasure. She pulled me into her. I thrust deeply into her pussy and felt the immense pleasure of her tight warmth enveloping me, feeding my desperate need, and offering unspeakable pleasure. Julia’s gasping gave way to moaning. She was letting go. I continued deeper into her, bracing her sensuous body against the hard wooden floor.
Julia was melting into something she rarely allowed me to see so easily, a woman with an urgent need to lose control and be passionately ravaged. She was like a different person. She opened herself more and more fully to me and kissed me and pulled me as she urged me to enter her more deeply. I was not wasting a moment of it. Julia had always trusted me, but this was handing me complete sexual control. She was letting go and encouraging me with every gasp and movement. I drove her across the floor. She let me guide her. I shifted her to her side. I pushed her legs back towards her head. I braced her in different. She weakly tried to crawl away so she could feel me pull her back. She offered zero real resistance. Instead, she focused on soaking in the pleasure of each moment.
While Julia was soaking in pleasure, I began to feel a twinge of anxiety. Then she started gentle, submissive dirty talk.
“I can’t believe you took me like this on my own floor…this is so hot baby…fuck me harder…”
I continued thrusting into her. Yet at the same time, my mind began racing. “Wait, what have I done?” I thought. Here I was ravaging the woman I adored. The dominatrix I served had completely handed herself over to me in a raw and urgent way I’d never experienced. Yet I was seven days since my last orgasm, and fucking my dream girl with no chance of the orgasm I so desperately needed. Julia moaned in my ear as she climaxed for the first time. At that moment, it set in that my own orgasm was completely foreclosed until…when?
No wonder Julia was letting herself go. The more I ravaged her, the more pleasure it gave her, and the more I was trapped in her inescapable cage of pleasure.
I began bricking off the mental pathway that leads to orgasm. Julia, who usually exercised dominatrix-like control in our sex life, was losing herself into a deeper layer of pleasure. Meanwhile, I was beginning an intense exercise in mental and physical control. I needed Julia to let me out of this.
“Julia…”
She immediately knew. “No, David” she cut me off sharply.
“But Julia…”
She opened her pleasure-glazed eyes half way. “David, no. I don’t even want you to ask. No.”
I went silent and slowed down my thrusting. I went deeper and slower. She like that. She read my body and relaxed into the new rhythm. “Mmmmmmm…such a good boy.”
Now I realized I had fallen completely into her control the moment I slipped her panties aside to fuck her. I had her pinned down, literally and figuratively, or so I thought. But she’d welcomed it. I’d ignored what we were saying and focused on what we were doing. Julia had focused on capturing the pledge she needed to hear, then she completely let go and let me trap myself.
report I slowed down my thrusting even more as the impossibility of my situation set in, in part because the pleasure was overwhelming and in part because I was resenting how stuck I was. For Julia, this deceleration wasn’t just a new pleasure at a different rhythm. It was less pleasure. She immediately noticed and did not appreciate it.
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