Literotic asexstories – 30 Days of Denial Pt. 03 by switch8888,switch8888
A note to my readers: Thank you for the feedback you have gifted me thus far as I explore this fantasy of submission, chastity, and feminization from the male perspective. If you’ve been following along, you might be surprised to find Part 3 labeled as “new”. I decided to take the story in a completely new direction based on feedback from the community, so this chapter is a full-fledged rewrite that carries forward from Part 2. Please enjoy, and I welcome any thoughts on the new storyline in the comments.
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The next three days moved at a snail’s pace as my training unexpectedly paused; no new tasks to reinforce my submission; no new exercises to chip away at my flaws. Up to this point, my time with you had been characterized by gradual yet unrelenting progress toward moulding me into your ideal sub, so while all of your existing rules and expectations remained in full force, this sudden lack of escalation felt odd – almost unsettling.
In the meantime, I took comfort in the routine I had developed around the new identity you were crafting for me. I continued getting dolled up in the clothes you laid out for me each day, and I was surprised to find many of the things that previously felt like a challenge were becoming effortless: full-body shaves, styling my wigs, applying my makeup – it was all practically automatic at this point.
“My makeup.” How foreign that phrase would have sounded coming from my mouth just a few months ago. And now, it was part of me; an intrinsic attribute of my Self.
In this temporary reprieve, I found myself with space to reflect on how much I had changed since I met you. No longer was I a man whose insatiable sexual needs drove his every thought, every action, and every decision. Gone were the days of posturing and pretending to be an “alpha male”, while what I really longed for was the protection and nurturing care of a strong woman. Under all the makeup, wigs, dresses, and panties you “made me” wear, I felt surprisingly free – free to embrace the best of my femininity and to fall more completely into your care.
Perhaps most surprising, however, was that I found myself thinking less and less about getting off. My last orgasm, achieved by my own hand and without your permission, was becoming a distant memory. I couldn’t even remember what it felt like. It was like someone trying to remember what they had for dinner Tuesday night three months ago; if they tried hard enough, they could maybe remember the dish and possibly even describe it, but they wouldn’t be able to remember the taste in any meaningful way.
It was so distant, in fact, that I started to lose track of how long I had been deprived… 30 days for the first game (ending in a meager 5 seconds of self-stimulation and denial); another 30 days to obtain my final task in the current game (earning $1000 on OnlyFans); another week to actually earn the money; 3 more days for speaking out of turn…
30… 60… 67… 70 days. Saturday would mark 70 excruciating, exhilarating days since we began this transformative journey together.
While my physiological need to ejaculate was growing more and more intense, my deep psychological need to please and obey you grew even stronger. Not that I didn’t want to cum anymore; far from it – my need was ever-present. The difference now was that I wanted it on your terms. I wanted to be SO good to you and please you SO much that you chose to reward me with the best orgasm I could imagine: one that you granted; one that I earned.
This is what what kept me going. This is what I worked for.
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Finally, Saturday morning arrived. I woke up two hours early to get ready for you with meticulous attention to detail – hair, makeup, nails, eyelashes, and of course, a close, clean shave all over.
I slipped into the outfit you picked out for me the night before: a blue, flowy sundress that barely covered my ass – one of your favorites. You matched it with a lacy blue thong and tall nude stilettos that perfectly activated the newly-toned muscles in my calves and buttocks. My short black wig bounced at my shoulders as I stepped into my panties, while the pink collar around my neck – fastened just a little bit tighter than necessary – complemented my light pink lipstick and served as a constant reminder that I was no longer my own; I was yours.
I looked myself over in the mirror, satisfied with the results. I was confident that you would be pleased with my look, and that I was ready for whatever you had in store for me.
Or so I thought.
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**SMACK**
You greeted me in the kitchen with a playful but firm slap on my ass as I prepared a second pot of coffee and washed the breakfast dishes. I smiled and let out an involuntary little coo. It was finally time.
“Are you ready for your final task?” you asked casually.
You loved to downplay big moments like this.
“Yes, Madam,” I replied, concealing my excitement.
“Finish the dishes, then strip down to your cage, collar, and stilettos, then meet me in the sitting room. I have a friend I want you to meet.”
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My stomach filled with butterflies as I wondered who you might have invited over. Did I know them? Could I trust them?
We had talked many times about how much it turned you on thinking about fucking me in front of your friends; using me and humiliating me for their amusement. In fact, it was your favorite topic to taunt me with while making me watch you bring yourself to back-to-back-to-back orgasms with your wand.
You also loved pretending that YOUR orgasms were MY orgasms. “Ahhh, don’t you feel better after that magical release?” you would tease, patting my neglected cock in its cage each time you came.
I consented to “putting on a show”, as you called it, on the condition that it would only be with people who you knew and trusted to be discreet. Secretly, the idea of public humiliation really turned me on, so the idea made me equal parts anxious and aroused.
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I quickly finished the dishes and started undressing as instructed. Clumsy from my nerves, I tripped as I stepped out of my dress and panties, banging my arms onto the kitchen table to break my fall and knocking off a placemat and silverware in the process.
You whistled out a cat call from across the room as I bent over to pick up my mess. “Nice ass, princess. Leave the marks to me though,” you teased.
Blushing and slightly embarrassed, I neatly folded my panties and grabbed a hanger from a nearby closet to hang my dress. I was smoothing out the final wrinkles when I heard the doorbell ring. You had timed everything perfectly – as always.
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You opened the door and greeted your guest – a woman by the sound of it. It was an unfamiliar voice, but you spoke like old friends.
“Hurry up, princess!” you called. “Don’t keep our guest waiting!”
My heart raced as I gathered the courage to face a stranger dressed like this; or rather… undressed.
Among our myriad training sessions was a lesson on behaving properly in front of guests, which I rehearsed in my head as I hurried down the corridor: “Arms folded behind your back, eyes cast to the floor, don’t speak unless spoken to.”
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As I approached the sitting room, treading ever-so-carefully in my 4-inch heels, the banter and giggling that filled the air abruptly turned to a more serious tone.
“There you are, princess. Kneel,” you ordered.
I quickly complied.
“This is Mistress Addy, a fellow Domme friend of mine. You will address her simply as ‘Mistress’. Greet your superior.”
Mistress Addy sat tall and confident on the love seat, dressed in tight black pants that hugged her long legs, a red silk blouse – revealing a generous amount of cleavage, and black Louboutin stilettos with red bottoms that perfectly matched the hue of her lips.
“Hello, Mistress,” I replied, careful not to make eye contact. “I am at your service.”
“What do you think, Addy? Isn’t she lovely?” you asked.
“She’s even better in person!” Addy exclaimed.
“Mistress Addy is one of your biggest fans,” you explained. “In fact, she was one of your first subscribers on OnlyFans!”
I remembered her now. She left comments on my page from time to time – always encouraging, and yet always challenging me to do better and to push myself farther – masterfully blending toughness with kindness.
“Coincidentally, Mistress Addy and I go way back,” you continued. “We met several years ago at the same club where you and I met, and we used to run in the same circles. We lost touch for a while, but when I noticed her commenting on your posts I just had to reach out. We got to talking about your progress and came up with a devilishly good idea.”
You both giggled knowingly as my cock sprang to action in its tiny jail cell, my imagination running wild with anticipation as to what was to come.
“Princess, I’m proud of you. You’ve accomplished a great deal these last 70 days, and I’ve decided that you deserve a reward.”
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I could hardly contain myself as the corners of my mouth leapt towards my ears, belying my otherwise stoic posture – kneeling with downcast eyes and my arms folded neatly behind my back. These were the words that I longed most to hear. It didn’t matter to me what came next; making you proud was my ultimate reward.
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“But first things first,” you said. “You know I’ve always had a fantasy about using you in front of my friends, and you agreed to it so long as it’s someone I trust. Well, I trust Mistress Addy implicitly. She’s one of the good ones, and she will be discreet. Won’t you, Addy?”
“Of course. I take the trust and boundaries of my submissives very seriously,” Mistress Addy reassured me.
“That said,” you continued, “I’m going to let you decide exactly how involved Mistress Addy will be today. You have three options.
“Option 1: If you’re uncomfortable now that this fantasy has become a reality, we can send Mistress Addy home right now. No harm done.”
“We really mean that – no hard feelings,” Mistress Addy emphasized.
“If you choose option 1,” you explained, “you will simply stand, bid Mistress Addy farewell, and retire to the bedroom where you will wait for me.
“Option 2: Mistress Addy stays, but she’s just here to watch. I’ll have my fun with you, objectifying and humiliating you for Mistress Addy’s amusement. She won’t touch or control you, but we’ll give her a good show. If you choose option 2, you will crawl to me and kiss my feet.
“Finally, for option 3…” You and Mistress Addy smiled and winked at one another. “Have you ever heard of a devil’s threesome, princess?”
“No, Madam.” I replied, my voice a bit dry and shaky.
“Let’s just say it involves two ‘horns’ on the sides and one hungry slut in the middle,” you laughed as you stroked an invisible cock emanating from your lap.
“With option 3, you give yourself over entirely to both of us. We’ll have all sorts of fun with you — and maybe even with each other,” you added, gazing lustfully at Mistress Addy and licking your lips.
“If you choose option 3, you will crawl over to Mistress Addy and kiss her feet. Do you understand your options, princess?”
“I do, Madam,” I replied.
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One thing was certain: we weren’t sending Mistress Addy home. I had already determined that while you laid out my options. I felt myself falling into a new kind of subspace as I knelt before these two powerful women who brimmed with confidence and dripped with sexuality. I longed to please both of you and to be used for your pleasure.
The only question now was whether I would be fucked by – or simply in front of – Mistress Addy. My only hesitation was whether I wanted you to play with each other as well. I felt insecure as I compared myself to Mistress Addy and her perfect body, her beautiful long hair, her effortless poise. I wanted to BE her. And I wanted to be HERS.
I quickly realized that I was threatened for no reason. She was just a friend – someone you knew for a while and lost touch with. Our bond was much more than that; it ran deeper than any relational label could hope to reflect. We were more than lovers, more than friends, more than whatever a “significant other” is – we were part of each other in a way that couldn’t be undone.
I took a deep breath as I bent over onto all fours, with the hair of my wig falling into my eyes. After hesitating for just a moment, I crawled slowly toward Mistress Addy, leaned my head down to her feet, and softly kissed the top of her perfectly manicured toes.
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“Oh this will be fun!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together with glee.
You grabbed an egg timer from the kitchen, set it for 10 minutes, and placed it on the ground in front of me.
“You will remain in this position with your face on the ground until this timer goes off. Then, you will crawl down the hall and meet us in the bedroom.
“Now one final choice, princess: on a scale of 1-10, how ‘spicy’ do you want it to be; 1 being ‘gentle lovemaking’ and 10 being ‘can’t walk properly for a week’?”
I paused for a moment to consider. It felt pointless to hold back now. The die had already been cast; the Rubicon already crossed. I burned with desire.
“10,” I said with a sly smile. “All in.”
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