“No more orgasms this week.”
He said that and then grabbed my hair, jerking my head up. I met his stare, breathing hard and sucking in the precious air I had been denied while his dick had been down my throat.
Fucking fuck. I did this to myself. I had mentioned I’d like to try denial again. And apparently, he had listened.
He held me in place, tightening his grip on my hair, keeping his cock just out of reach from my mouth. I had to catch my breath and bring myself back up to the edge of subspace to be able to talk. And think clearly. I managed to get to a more coherent place and immediately wanted to wipe the drool off my face from the sloppy facefucking I had just endured. But I knew better than to move when he held my hair like this.
“No cumming for the rest of the week? So no cumming for six days?” I needed to make sure I understood. And decide if I was willing to consent to this.
“Mhm,” was his only response. I whined. His stare alone was enough to make it clear he expected my obedience. But he slowly, intentionally pulled my head back further, giving me a tiny bit of pain and pleasure with the awkward angle. Pain and pleasure and a warning that I was to obey without complaining if I agreed to this. I was silent, staring right back, as I considered it.
Why the fuck did I voice the thought that I had been thinking about denial for months? My inner brat was throwing a fucking fit. She was screaming. She knows I’m terrible at denial, always so tempted to cum, to let my fucking cunt do my thinking for me. She knows how enjoyable it is to piss him off too, to find the loophole and outthink him. To dance on the line between compliance and defiance. But he was trying to give me a gift. A chance to be even more of a dripping, needy slut. Would I let my brattiness ruin that? Succumb to the impulsive, defiant side of me that bucks against submission even though I crave being reduced to a set of controlled, needy holes? I couldn’t think of any loopholes in that order, either. Fuck. It would be pass or fail on this test, no way out that wouldn’t result in angering him. Or disappointing him. Shitfuckcunt, he knows I hate disappointing him more than anything. He knows it, and he was using it, counting on it to design a task he knows I usually fail to stick to.
“Yes, Sir.” I said yes anyway. I asked for this. I wanted it. And here it was.
“Now bring your ass up here. I’m going to fuck it, and you’re not going to cum.”
Fuck. What have I done?
He applied coconut oil to his dick and my asshole, only slipping one finger in. I knew that meant I was in for some painal. I tried to hold back another whine, because when he takes my ass like this, with his complete domination calling to my submission to bend to his needs, it’s practically impossible for me not to beg to cum. A whimper escaped me anyway.
He pushed me onto my side and shoved his cock in hard. I cried out in pain, but I didn’t safeword. I knew I could take it and reach the moment where the pain turned into agonizingly exquisite pleasure. I wanted it, this pain, his brutal claiming of this slutty fuckhole. He pulled out and shoved his dick in harder and deeper this time. I howled my pain. The stretch and fullness from his cock fucking hurt. I knew he delighted in it, knowing I was at war with myself to give this to him, to take it and make the pain pleasure for us both. I felt his cock get even harder. My pussy dripped in response.
After another painful thrust, tears started running down my face. He pushed me to my belly then and climbed on top of me, pinning my legs between his before he pushed his cock back into my still-tight, still-hurting asshole. Fuck! I focused on breathing, but I should have held onto the pain because as he pumped in and out of me my new struggle was the flood of pleasure his dick was giving me. I moaned, and he put a hand on the back of my head, smooshing my face into the mattress.
“No more cumming this week. No cumming.” I repeated this, and he must have heard my muffled words because he picked up the pace and started fucking me harder.
“Oh, fuck, Sir!” I couldn’t think. I was drowning in the pleasure. “No cumming. Don’t fucking cum!” I yelled it. I was on the edge so fucking quickly, and he was about to push me over.
“What was that, slut?”
I moaned again. “You can’t make me cum. Don’t make me cum. Please!”
He laughed and moved his hand from my head to my throat. His meaty fingers wrapped around, and I delighted in surrendering to it, in feeling the pressure on such a vital part of me. My life was in his hands in these moments. My breath, my blood flow.
“Fuck! Sir!”
“Yes, freeuse fucktoy?”
“Sir, I can’t cum this week! You’re gonna make me cum!”
“What? From a big cock in your asshole? Fucking it with no prep? That’s going to make you cum?”
I moaned out a yes.
“What a dirty slut.”
“Fuck,” I breathed out before forcing myself to take a slow, deep breath in. “No cumming,” I started whispering over and over. The hand on my throat tightened.
“Because I know what a greedy little whore you are, I’ll grant you one orgasm this week. Just one. You can choose when.”
I couldn’t process what he’d said.
“Did you fucking hear me?” He repeated himself, slowing his pace so his dick slid ever-so-slowly out and back in, out and back in, giving me all pleasure and no pain. I couldn’t fucking think.
“I may cum? One time?”
“Mhm. Choose wisely because you won’t get another one for six days.”
I got lost in the pleasure for a moment as he changed his position, leaning closer and putting some of his weight against my back. He put an elbow on either side of my head, pinning me completely. His body pressed mine into the mattress. I felt his breath on my face, and I fucking heard his primal growl of enjoyment as he thrust in again and again. Nothing is fucking hotter than hearing, seeing, feeling his pleasure while he uses me.
“Sir?” I finally managed to squeak the word out.
“What?” His response was whispered in my ear, his breath moving my hair that had fallen out of its hair tie, making it tickle my cheek and neck. I moaned and whimpered, completely overwhelmed with the many sensations electrifying my body.
Deep breath in and I could think again.
“Sir, I am a greedy fucking slut, but I don’t want to be. It only makes sense to use my one orgasm to make yours better.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Sir. May I cum with you?”
He growled in my ear. My body writhed beneath him.
“You may…in 3…”
“Oh, fuck!” My breathing was ragged and punctuated by moans.
“…2…”
My legs were shaking, my pussy and asshole tightening.
“…1…now.”
He pushed his dick deep, and I came hard, twitching and shaking. Then I heard him growl out his pleasure as I felt him cum deep in my ass, and my whole body shook anew in response, my cunt dripping onto the sheets.
We laid there for a minute or five minutes or an hour for all I knew. Time was suspended as we both lingered in the delicious release. Eventually, he rolled off of me onto his back next to me. I whimpered, instantly missing his cock in my ass.
“Thank you, Sir,” I breathed out.
“You’re welcome.” He stroked my head. “Now edge yourself. Three times. No cumming. Then you can sleep.”
Fuck.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/11fpm4q/a_tale_of_domination_orgasm_denial_edging_and