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.
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.