Tag: #MasturbationMonday

I Wish I’d Taken the Photo

I wish I’d taken the photo.

He’s lying on his back, one arm at his side, the other folded under his head. The fact it is post sex means he is beautifully naked. Exactly as he should be all the time in my opinion. The gym sessions are showing, muscle definition is popping in all the right places. In all honestly I want to have the sex all over again as I look at him.

I wish I’d taken the photo.

Why is it then, if he is so glorious, that I am thinking of you?

I’m thinking of you because I want you to see him, as he is in that moment. I wish I had taken the photo I envisaged in my mind, convincing him to let me take and share it, might have been two very hard battles to win, but I think I could have offered a persuasive argument.

I know he wants you to want him, and oh my, you would have wanted him so hard in that moment.

I wish I’d taken the photo.

I can feel your name on my tongue, both post sex and during. I can feel you slipping into my mind as we fuck, wondering where you might want to be, where he might want you and where I’d like you. There’s is a look he gets, and a shift in atmosphere when your name lingers in the air and it makes my cunt twitch and my mind race with erotic possibilities. I want to make your cunt twitch too.

I wish I’d taken the photo.

There is so much I want to see and do.

I want to showcase him.

IMG_7839I want to show you the things I know will elicit the most sexy and joyful of responses from him.

I want to sit back as you tend to him in your own way, and see what new discoveries unfold.

I want you to do nothing, as together we navigate the pleasures of your body.

I want to deny him, as my fingers make you come, and my tongue revels in the taste of you.

I want to make him beg for you. I want to hear him say the words out loud for us both to hear.

I want to watch as he slides inside you, so I can see him from another perspective as he fucks you.

There are so many ‘wants’ that I am longing to explore. They are all percolating inside me, latching on to my every sense of arousal, consuming me beyond want and into aching need.

Fuck the photo!

I wish you’d been there to see it in person.

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See who else is Masturbating this Monday!

Image Credit Natasha Benten

#SoSS! You Are EPIC!

Wonderful, lovely and sexy readers, get ready to open multiple browser tabs and be prepared for a roller-coaster ride of sexy and emotional blog posts. I have an an EPIC week (yes it did need the capitalisation) of blog reading and I am about to hit you all with some awesome and in some cases intense posts from some fabulous people.

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Get involved with Masturbation Monday

Oh, Cousin Pons what a delightfully smutty blog you have. This weeks offering to Masturbation Monday from Pons was ‘Hornithology’, now while it did leave me with more questions than answers, it did also give me the horn. So that’s a win. You can also see more of Cousin Pons if you pop along and browse through the Sinful Sunday submissions. Would anybody like to see his bottom? If so head to his blog now.

This next blog post is all about the feels.’ Travels with You’ by submissy is just wonderful. In the almost three years I have been with Bakji we have journeyed hard. Sometimes I find it hard to articulate just how much that means to me, but this piece speaks for many of us I think. It is not only one of my favourites from this week, but one of my most favourite things I’ve read in a long time. I honestly think it deserves all the love so please do give it a read. I actually sent this link to Bakji, because I suspect my blog readers see more of my feels than he does, and I felt like this piece of writing said something that I’ve been wanting to say for a long time, but didn’t know how to.

Through Twitter, Sinful Sunday and possibly through the Smut Marathon which his Miss (Violet Fawkes) is taking part in, I have recently started frequenting KinkyandPerky’s blog. This week he wrote ‘Absent’ and I loved it. His Sinful Sunday pictures also cause me to giggle, quite often it’s my FemDom giggle too, which is the best giggle I possess, so finding a blog that encourages that is awesome.

Violet also happens to be the author of one of my Smut Marathon Round 3 favourites,

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What’s the Kink this week?

‘Weak Flesh’. While the voting may have ended, you can still visit the Smut Marathon entries and give it a read. If you need anymore encouragement to enjoy Violet’s writing maybe I suggest her most recent Kink of the Week submission ‘Worn Out’, it is hella sexy.

I have given a shout out to Pixie before, but I’m doing it again. Less for a specific post and more for her entire run of recent posts. I won’t lie, some of them will be hard for people to read, but Pixie is so brave and honest about topics that many people shy away from and I think that needs to be championed. I was recently in awe of the post she wrote about her Mum’s passing, within days if not hours of it happening. My Mum died nearly 9 years ago, and I often think I should blog about it, I want to, I do, but I just … I can’t. Grief is so complex, for so many reasons and in so many ways, and unpacking that in words can be brutal. Pixie has my sincere admiration for being able to share that process with her readers.

CuriousClitty brings us back to Kink, with ‘K is for Kaleidoscope’. Her take on the myriad of kinks we can all encounter, whether we enjoy them or just learn of their existence is fabulous. She also talk about adding colour to her deeper, darker kinks and that really resonated with me on a personal level, as I’ve been doing a little bit of that myself lately.

IMG_6998Social media platforms are becoming more and more restrictive in what we can see and share as a sex positive and kink positive community. Current political climates in a variety of our countries will only add to this. While this seems like a bit of fun, which it is, it is also really important that we do not let each other be silenced. #SoSS allows us to support and share fellow writers who may be unable to reach people due to the recent and ongoing spate of shadow-banning.  If you have a platform where people are listening to your voice and you can share some of your favourite sex bloggers then please do. The more of us that get involved in this the better.

There were also amazing posts for Wicked Wednesday, Sinful Sunday and for #30DaysofOrgasm which some of us are indulging in for April. They are all worth a visit and you are guaranteed to find thought provoking and sexy posts there.

#30DayOrgasmFun – Week 1

#30DayOrgasmFun – Week 1:

Orgasms received 2.

Orgasms given 1

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Find out more and see who else is getting involved.

It was with great excitement that I decided to take part in #30DayOrgasmFun. My overall feeling about masturbation is that it is a bit dull, for me. Even though I own all the sex toys and can now orgasm, which I couldn’t until I was 28, it just lacks lustre for me. I’m pretty sure I just haven’t explored enough though, that knowledge does not compel me to try more often though, or even to try new things when the urge does come over me.

For me getting involved in #30DayOrgasmFun was about encouragement. The thought of having a reason to carve time out for self pleasure was awesome. Then came a less awesome though … Easter holidays. For me this means very little alone time, and very little energy. Neither of which is handy when it comes to sexy alone time.

I have however managed two self love sessions. Which quite honestly, is not bad going for me in one week.

Orgasm 1 – Sunday

IMG_6615.JPGThis orgasm, like many others was courtesy of my Maison Vesta Kassandra Magic Wand. For those of you who are used to the power of a larger wand, this might not do the trick. As I am yet to get my hands on my dream Doxy though, smaller wands are what I have to hand. This is by far my favourite out of the selection of smaller wands I’ve tried. For its size and its price it really packs a punch. In a sexy way.

So me and Kassandra (the wand remember, not a sexy lady unfortunately) got down to business, and it was quick, but it was efficient and I actually felt pleased that I’d made the effort to get some kind of orgasmic delights on the go.

Orgasm 2 – Tuesday

1523266633951.jpegNow this one was a lot more interesting. I got a delightful box of goodies to test and review from Satisfyer.com, and this definitely inspired me to lube up, even though it was after a late shift at work. I’m a bit erratic when it comes to new toys, I tend to try them with a bit too much eagerness, and quite often that doesn’t give a good picture of them, but it will explain how I ended up masturbating with four toys in one session.

First up was the Satisfyer Pro G-Spot Rabbit, which I’ve been really keen to try, and I1523265920441.jpeg think I will enjoy it, but I was finding it hard to relax into it. I think because it was new and we haven’t found our groove yet. Then Satisfyer Pro Traveler came out to play, which is frickin’ adorable, and pretty mighty for a small toy and it definitely played it’s part in making the orgasmic magic happen.

However, like I said, it was late and I was tired and I really just wanted the good fanny feels. So out came Kassandra again, this time though she has a friend with her. Oh yes, my Tracey Cox Glass Dildo (the clear one) came out to play. For some reason I haven’t use any of my glass dildos in a while, but recently I’ve taken to using them again and I have remembered why I have so many. They are unbelievably good at getting me off.

With Kassandra on my clit and Tracey Cox (the dildo, not the woman) rubbing against my g-spot I came good and proper. Like I really came, super hard. It. Was. So. Good.

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Orgasm 3 – Friday

This orgasm wasn’t mine, but it was my best one of the week. That is a statement that probably sheds a lot of light on why I don’t orgasm much. Making Bakji come isn’t more fun for me a lot of the time than coming myself. The thrill I get from our kink dynamic, and especially from FemDom, kind of outweighs the thrill I get from sexual pleasure, especially of the solo variety.

During this session I got to tease and torment, as well as engaging in one of my all time favourite sexual acts, handjobs. I bloody love giving handjobs, especially to Bakji because he is so wonderfully receptive to them.

We also took the Satisfyer Men (or penis wanker as I am calling it) for its first spin. It was definitely fun, but it couldn’t claim the orgasm, that was all mine.

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Now I am sure at least one person is wondering why I didn’t end up having a 3rd orgsm of my own seeing as how I had my partner right there, with his cock out and hard no less. The truth is I just don’t measure my pleasure in orgasms. It is totally cool if you do, it isn’t judgement on other people, it’s just how I work.

FemDom gives me an adrenaline rush and a mental and physical high that I do not get form sex in any way, shape or form. I love sex, I really do. It feels amazing and I love it when Bakji makes me come. Domination though, especially of Bakji, man that hits the spot. Like hardcore, body and mind satisfied.

So where does that leave me with taking part in #30DayOrgasmFun? I am still very much going to try and get a few more April orgasms under my belt. I have a few new things I’m going to try, and I have a sexy weekend session with Bakji, where we will have more time to get kinky than we did on Friday. So if he’s lucky I might let him help me out with an orgasm of my own. Or I might just make him come multiple times, I’m really quite happy to sate my orgasm needs in that way.

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Masturbation Monday – Who else is getting off this week?

#Masturbation Monday: The Crack in the Door …

Masturbation-Monday-banner-1This post was inspired by #MasturbationMonday, to join in or to see more of the posts written for this go to http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com


‘Fuck You! Fuck! You!’

It was an interesting choice of words, given that no one was fucking anyone, and I had my suspicions this wasn’t about to change anytime soon. Despite the fact my cunt was dripping wet, and his cock was hard.

I could feel my wetness again my thighs, despite the fact I was wearing underwear. I knew he’d be able to see this. He’d manhandled, roughly me into a chair and tied me down. Spreading my legs as he did so, in a way that made my skirt ride up, leaving my wet through panties in full view.

As he’d tied my arms down and restrained my torso against the hard back of the chair, he’d pulled my vest top and bra away from my body, revealing hard, eager nipples. Another betrayal of my obvious arousal.

I felt exposed, and slightly ashamed at the predicament I’d found myself in. I hadn’t expected to be caught as I peered through the crack of his door. Here I was though, my voyeurism having backed fired. What I wanted to see and watch in secret, I was now being forced to watch, with no choice to turn away. I felt sick with dread, yet I couldn’t deny that I was also enthralled and exhilarated.

The video on the computer screen had been paused. Even paused between two motions she was stunning. Her lingerie skimming gracefully across the perfect curves of her body. Whenever I looked at her I ached from both envy and arousal. When she had told me of her intentions to make him this video I was torn. I knew if I asked to see it she would say yes. We didn’t keep things from each other that might make us anxious. At the same time though I knew for it to be most effective it needed to be private between the two of them. I wanted to respect this, I really did, but the part of me that enjoyed self-torture decided voyeurism would win out.

There I was, heart pounding, cunt aching, getting wet from the anticipation of what I would witness. When he pressed play on the video I couldn’t help but gasp at how unlike her usual self she was. Usually coy and playful in her submission, this new version of her was brazen, with an air of Dominance I never could have imagined her to have. That gasp, that one, small, barely audible gasp gave me away.

I was frozen to the spot as I saw him pause the video and get up from his chair. In a split second he was in front of me, hand gripping my hair as he dragged me to the chair he was to tie me too. As I was the one who had been caught, my rage was unwarranted, but I felt defiant. He could tie me down, and force me to watch, but I would not give away how I felt inside. This tangled web of shame and arousal was mine, I didn’t want to share it.

‘You want to watch do you? Well let’s make it easy for you. Such a dirty girl, being a secret voyeur. To think, I thought I knew all your perversions.’

That was when the words those word of defiance left my mouth. ‘Fuck You. Fuck. You.’ I paid for my defiance with his hand across my face. With the initial contact and the sting it left, my cunt throbbed. He rarely got this rough with me, but when he did it aroused every inch of me.

Once I was firmly tied to the chair, in a position that meant I would be able to see him, but not the computer screen. His hand gripped my neck, as his mouth fell to my ear with a whisper. With the low, menacing voice that made me melt, he made it very clear that I would question my decision to sneak around.

‘You will sit. You will watch. Your cunt will ache, all the while knowing you will be punished for your behaviour. You’re a disgrace. I can see how fucking wet you are already. You had better enjoy the show, because you will pay for it.’

His words were humiliating, they made the shame of my desires rise inside me, and that humiliation and shame only fuelled my arousal. I also knew that whatever punishments followed would do the same.

He fell back into his chair, his cock still hard, it hadn’t softened at all while he was reprimanding and tying me. The video began to play and her words filled the air. Her soft voice, unusually hard,  as she spoke to him. She spoke of how badly he wanted her, how much he loved to fuck her, of how wet he made her and of how hard she made him. That last statement, evidently a fact from what I saw in front of me.

He was solid. His hand gripping and stroking his length. I struggled against my restraints. Caught between wanting to get to him and wanting to escape the situation I had found myself in. He didn’t even notice, he was lost in pleasure, he was lost in her and I wanted to feel bad about this, but I just felt more turned on.

It made me think of all the times she’d visited, and despite the expectation that I would join them, I would on occasion excuse myself. I’d lie there in my room listening to them as they played and fucked. A feeling of emotional masochism would rise inside me, and part of me would long to run to them and join in, but the part of me that won was the part of me that revelled in the feelings that arose in me. It always felt a little bit taboo, the only kink that felt dirty and grubby, and far from being a bad thing, those feelings seem to flutter against my skin, causing every inch of me to feel charged with an erotic energy I just can’t find in other explorations in solo play.

Bringing myself back to the present, I watched, eyes unblinking as he followed her instructions to touch himself, to think of her. I listened as she started to touch herself, as she moaned and gasped, as she breathlessly told him how she did this to thoughts of him all the time. I knew this to be true. I’d even helped her do just that on more than one occasion. Our phone calls would often descend into masturbation sessions, each helping the other along by describing various scenarios that we knew would get the other off. She always came hardest when my words were about him.

I knew his touch so well that is wasn’t hard to describe it in great detail. I’d watched them interact so often that I knew how his hands moved across her, and how she responded when he did so. I loved reminding her of how he’d tease her, how he’d gently, softly trace the lines of her body, watching as she become more and more frustrated, trying to move her body towards his to no avail, before she would finally give in and beg for his touch to be firmer and more fruitful.

Now I ached for them both, I longed to lie beside them as their bodies moved together. Her hands always finding me, her nature to be kind and inclusive never getting lost even when she was being fucked into spacey incoherence. It was mesmerising to watch them, as they moved just as they would against me, as their hands and mouths engaged in actions I knew so well for myself. There were many times I’d become so lost in watching, that I would forget to join in. My hands would move to touch and explore, but instead of reaching for their bodies I’d reach for my own. Sometimes I was permitted to amuse myself, more often than not their lips and hands would pull me back to them, and I’d become lost in the pleasure we created together.

My restraints were biting into my flesh, the ropes digging in more than he probably anticipated due to my relentless wriggling. The pain was sweeter than I could even begin to explain, in vast contrast to the unyielding burning in my cunt, that sought release. A release I felt I would not be granted. His release however was ebbing ever closer, and I could barely allow myself to blink for fear of missing it. I hated the ropes that bound me for holding me back from him, I wanted to move closer, I wanted to be nearer to him as I watched his orgasm take hold.

His head had fallen back against the headrest of his chair, the moans of self pleasure were falling from his lips, as his mouth fell open ever so slightly. I long to kiss those lips, to hold his face in my hands, as he brought himself to climax. He was getting close, I could see it in the way his body was shifting, the muscles that were tensing, the changes in his breathing. She was still there, encouraging him, beautifully seductive, simultaneously debauched and sensual.

The way his hands were moving as he pleasured himself was at the moment the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen. He was so hard, his tip glistening, pre-cum oozing from him, in a manner so enticing that it felt like it was present only to tease me. I longed to take him in my mouth, to lick him, to fuck him. This current predicament seeming ludicrous as a different being awoke within me, a being that wanted action and touch, not visual stimulation that did nothing but tease and torture.

All at once though, before I was truly ready for it to be over, it was. With a change of tone that caught me off guard, she had ordered him to come, and he had obeyed. He was gripped in throes of a climax so strong I thought he might pass out, he looked glorious. He was usually the embodiment of power and control, he was so very careful as to how and when he let himself go. He seemed so free in that moment though, as if all the stresses and strains of life had been sucked from him and expelled with the force of his orgasm.

His eyes opened, and his gaze met mine, a smile spread across his face as he looked at me, and my heart filled with joy, and now I wanted to be free to hold him close and love him as hard as he came.

‘Well that was new … and fun. You’re still in trouble for being a sneaky pervert, but your punishment can wait … for now.’

With that he moved from his chair, and came towards me and began removing the rope that bound me. As he unveiled the rope marks that had been caused by my constant tugging and twisting, he rubbed them tenderly and planted kisses upon them too.  

Once I was free to move, he took my hand and led me to his bed, where we both fell into the kind of cuddle that made for perfect aftercare,  and then we called the other person who had been involved in our impromptu scene, and she squealed with delight at how naughty the whole thing was.

We hung up the phone and in seconds he was upon me. Pinned beneath him, his eyes were steely, with that hint of danger that made my stomach flip with anticipation. His hands moved to find I was still wet, wetter than I’d been in a long time. His fingers started to move against me and inside me, while his mouth started to whisper vulgar profanities against my ear.

He made me relive every moment, he forced me to face why I’d been there. He dug around inside my head, while his fingers fucked me, and I betrayed my own desire to keep my secrets as I realised he knew them all already. With every orgasm he tore from my body, whether I was ready to give into them or not, he showed me that I could not hide from him. When he choked me, and slapped me, tied me and teased me, he peeled away the layers of who I showed the world I was, until he was left with the me I truly I am.

I lay in a heap, half naked and very bedraggled. I felt elated both at having shared this previously secret kink with two people so close to me, but also at having kept my bedroom ‘voyeurism’ of listening in on them a secret. I felt like divulging quite how far this went would possible spoil its allure for me. As I lay there immobilised by all the sensations that had taken hold of me since I’d be caught peering through the crack in the door, my phone pinged with a tone reserved on for her.

‘I knew you weren’t tired all those nights you excused yourself. Pervert! I know your secret. I’ll keep it though. This will be fun.’

It seemed I was to have a partner in voyeuristic crime, and despite previous reservations, I could not wait. Her next visit would definitely be a very fun adventure.


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This weeks post writing masturbation photo comes courtesy of the Satisfyer Pro 2, which is so awesome I can barely stop writing long enough to write my review for it, but I promise it will be with you soon.

#MasturbationMonday: All It Takes Is The Right Toy …

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This post was inspired by #MasturbationMonday, to join in or to see more of the posts written for this go to http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com/.

I’ve got the sex toys. I’ve got the porn, or the sexy imagination depending on my mood. The mood is set, the lube is out. I’ve got everything, except the orgasm. It’s time to admit defeat. I’m bored and I know the reason why. I’ve got a better toy, a bigger toy, a living, breathing, all mine sex toy of a boy. That is what I need.

There is only one problem with this need. He has been very naughty lately, and that has me questioning how much he deserves to give me the attention I need. I think on this for a while, but it can’t be denied, the more I think about him, the wetter I get, in some way, shape or form, I need him here for this.

I glance and the clock and realise whatever he might be doing won’t be as interesting or as important as serving his Mistress, so I send the slave summons, a bit like the bat signal but for an eager to please slave boy.

Fifteen minutes later and his key turns in my door, I can hear him following standard protocols as he undresses, folding his clothes and leaving them in a neat pile by the door. The thought of him naked and eager makes my cunt twitch. It’s going to be hard not to use him fully, but I must be strict, I can’t have him thinking he will be rewarded for misbehavior.

As soon as my eyes are upon him my resolve is truly tested, he is glorious. His caged cock already looks like the metal surrounding it might be no object to it’s arousal. His eyes are shining with excitement, always anticipating what might await him, even when what awaits him is frustration and denial.

I direct him to the chair beside the bed, and I fix the restraints in place. He might be a slave, but he’s a bratty, horny slave, and has on occasion broken free from minimalistic restraint, or found himself unable to resist temptation if not restrained, and while his attention is always pleasurable, he really does need to learn his place. So now he is always fully immobilised. Though today I leave his head free to move, as I want him to be able to see me at all times.

Once he is firmly tied to the chair, I remove his cock cage. He gasps and moans as I do so, and his cock his hard, his eyes are pleading, and breathlessly he whispers ‘Please, Mistress’ it’s then that I know this is going to be just the release I need.

I run my finger gently along his cock, and he twitches against my touch, I can sense him holding his breath in anticipation of what I might do, of what pleasures I might permit him, and without a second though my hand slaps his shaft and I feel his breath fall from his mouth warm against my breast.

I move my hand into my bra and start to play with my nipples, his mouth hangs open, his eyes are fixed, I can see how badly he wants them. My nipples, hard and erect, to brush against his lips, as his tongue darts out to lick him. For me to force them into his mouth, holding his head firmly to my chest, his breathing restricted, his only choice to keep on licking, to keep on pleasuring, to keep on fucking my boobs with his tongue, because it might be the only action he gets for a while. I deny him this today though. As intend to deny him everything, but the chance to watch.

I open the drawer beside the bed, and I hear him groan, as he realises what I’m likely to be reaching for. I lay out my choice of toys on the bed, including the dildo so similar in length and girth to his own cock, that using it in front of him feels even crueller than a bigger one.

I lie on the bed besides the dildo, vibrators and lube. Scantily clad but still clothed I start running my hands across my body, and already things feel different to my failed attempt at masturbation. My body is starting to ache, the need is building inside me, the power I hold over him is setting me on fire, that is what was missing.

My hands find move over my knickers and I feel how wet I am through the material, and I know he will be able to see it too. I taunt him with it, asking him if he sees how wet it makes me to have called him here, to have restrained him and made him hard. Hard before I’d even touched him, moaning at one, slight, gentle, touch. All he can say is ‘Yes Mistress’, and that alone arouses me further.

I slide my wet knickers down my legs, and I can feel his eyes are fixed on me, watching, waiting, so keen to see what he probably now realises he cannot have. Once my knickers are removed I kneel up on the bed, lean forward and force them into his mouth, they are not efficient enough to be a gag, but they are very efficient at torturing him with my taste, forcing thoughts into his mind of his mouth on my cunt, of those days were good behaviour were rewarded with oral servitude.

Falling back onto the bed, my hands reach for a vibrator and soon enough the familiar buzzing of a favourite toy fills the air. I can hear the chair creaking as he pulls against his restraints, knowing with great satisfaction that his predicament will be bringing him both pleasure and frustration. The vibrator is alternating between my clit, and sliding inside me. My hips are moving ever more eagerly against the sensations this is causing.

I lift my head, and one look at has me rocketing from close to climax to being in the grip of orgasm. His muscles are tense as he pulls against his restraints, his eyes filled with that look verging on fury as he becomes more and more desperate to touch, and lick, and fuck, the tip of cock glistening with precum, and I almost laugh as the orgasm ripples through me knowing that precum is as far as he gets to go.

I see him relax a little, as my body shudders in the after effects of climax. I wonder if he thinks the tease is over, if I’ll play with him, or even better set him free to play with me. Instead I fix my gaze on him and take the dildo that so perfectly resembles his own cock and grip it tightly in my hand, again he groans. I know that groan, I know how badly he wants my hand wrapped around his cock, how desperately he wants me to move up and down his hard, desperate erection, edging him, teasing him, whispering humiliating phrases until I finally let him fall over the edge, covering him in his own cum.

Instead he gets to watch me slide that dildo inside my hot, wet cunt, over and over again. I want it to be him, and I tell him so. I wish it was his cock covered in my wetness, filling me, stretching me, making the pleasure inside me rise. I reposition myself, kneeling on the edge of the bed, so I can alternate between lifting myself on and of the perfectly positioned dildo, and grinding down onto it. In this position I can lean forward and rest my hands on his knees, giving me more leverage and control over fucking the dildo.

I can’t help but stare at his face, his expression is pained, and it makes joy rise inside me. There is a wicked and insatiable pleasure in causing him this kind of frustration, as I get close to another orgasm, this one much stronger than the last, I breathlessly tell him that I wish he could cum too. Oh how I’d love to give in, to let him cum with me, on me, inside me, but no, he had to ruin it, he had to be bad, he had to earn himself his longest ever stretch of punishment. Even this, berating him as I fuck myself with a dildo, is getting him more aroused. I glance down and see his cock, hard, twitching, pulsating and I wonder if he might cum without a physical stimulus.

The curiosity outweighs my desire to deny him, also I feel like if I succeed it would be something of a ruined orgasm, and the idea of that feels just as satisfying as denial. So I continue to verbally berate him, between my own gasp and moans, I tell him how  badly I need him to fuck me, how he needs to be good boy so I can reward him with the chance to lick, finger and fuck my cunt. The more I talk the redder his face gets, filling with anguish and desperation, his desire and submission causing his mind to empty of every except want and need. I point these facts out him, how all he wants is to touch me, how he can’t, how he won’t. Ever.

We both know that’s a lie but in the moment it feels so true, and it takes him further into his desperate desire, and the more I gasp, and moan and lean against him as I whisper obscenities that humiliate, tease and torture him, the more I turn myself on. Until no more words are needed, because I hear him mumbling into his knicker filled mouth and it sounds like ‘No, shit, fuck … sorry Mistress’ and I look down in time to see cum spurting from his cock, and that sight is all it takes for me to follow suit, another orgasm is mine, my body finding the satisfaction that escaped it earlier.

Sometimes all it takes is the right toy, and sometimes the right fuck toy is a slave boy.

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F.Y.I – While this is an entirely fictional masturbation account, after I wrote I did actual masturbation, in my Harry Potter t-shirt, not sure while that’s relevant, but it feels appropriate to mention.