Edge Play

I've been on the edge for over a week now, I think. I've lost track. I haven't had an orgasm since my last post about it.

I may have been a week or so that I was practically begging Master to fuck me. I was aching for it. To be held down, to be struck, to be taken and torn and fucked until I was dripping in sweat and climbing the walls to orgasm. My sex drive is generally pretty high, but in service—24/7. Everything has a different level of eroticism. My mind is always racing when I'm doing the simplest acts of service. Even making our bed is something I do with a different intensity. Sliding my hands over the sheets to smooth them out, I think of how soft and perfect they should be when he lies down on them. I think of him coming in to watch me make the bed, and somehow decide that he wants me right there. Pushing me over the edge of the bed and fucking me while my fingers grip the sheets I have just smoothed out.

All of my service has an added sexual energy to it. All that I do is for his pleasure, and while of course it's not all sexual pleasure—there is a thrill that is added, always knowing that I am owned by him. If you know this lifestyle, you understand this. Every time he walks by me I am practically fighting the urge to hump his leg.

So when he fucked me last week, hard and fast, my skin damp from my own sweat—I was in heaven. His hands on the back of my neck, pushing me down while he had his way with his property—it pulls at something in my skin and I feel alive. He used my body for his own pleasure and denied me mine, and this night, I did not complain. I didn't need the orgasm, I needed the connection. I needed to feel used and fulfilled and in that space where my skin feels warm and blanketed with sex and submission. My own sexual subspace, I guess. Afterwards I asked if I may have an orgasm, just to see if he would allow it, and he said no, not tonight. I fell asleep in his arms, feeling turned on, sexy and completely contented.

The next night when he reached for me, he let his fingers run down between my legs and he gently started caressing my pussy. I moaned and whimpered into his lips as he kissed me and teased me over my panties. Shortly after, he kissed me goodnight. I protested a little, asking if I might at least use my Hitachi? No, he said, you need to wait.

Hmmmmm…..

The next night, he wanted me to service him, which I did. I sucked and stroked his cock—taking pleasure in his moans and the way he drifts into the sex talk mantra when it's REALLY good and he is just enjoying my mouth on him. That always turns me on so much and my pussy was soaked thru my panties and I was starting to ache. There is that moment, shortly before the climax when the cock gets so big and hard that no matter how much I am enjoying it, I want to climb on top of him and fuck him. Incidentally this is the point that if I dare stop, I'd find myself on my back with his cock shoved down my throat—so I stay my course and please him, ever reminding myself that this is what I do for him. I am in service to him and tonight, like any other, I am his property and his slave. He will grant me an orgasm if and when he chooses to.

However, when it was over and I was drunk and hazy from swallowing every drop of his cum, I guided his hand between my legs to feel how aroused I was. He rubbed my pussy hard. It felt so good—just to release some of the pressure that had built up and I wanted to open my legs so he could shove fist inside me. I wanted so badly to just come on his fingers while he kissed me and held me close. However, he whispered to me, "Don't do it, slut." I whimpered, "but Sirrrrrr—please. It's been so many days."

He denied me again.

The next night, it was the same, Sir stroking my cunt until I ached, this time he added to the game by leaning into my ear and whispering deliciously dirty words to me. It was maddening and yet delicious because it felt so very good. I am easily orgasmic usually and it only takes me a few moments of concentration to find my way to my orgasm. I think it's from the years of having to masturbate quickly simply as a stress relief and never really taking the time to really enjoy it. So while there was a certain ache from being so turned on for several days straight, and now being played with and teased—it felt amazing. I felt somewhat greedy and decadent. While he did it—I allowed my body to just enjoy the sensations. His warm fingers rubbing my pussy and his voice in my ear. My breathing was unsteady and it felt good all the way to my toes. I was in heaven… until he stopped.

Holy fuck, torture. Now I was aching inside and out. I pleaded with him now, "Sir—please! Just make me come, please Sir?" He denied me once again- reminding me of how good and intense it will be when I do finally come.

Whenever that will be.

He is training me. He is retraining my body to slow down. Respond to his touch, and control my body. I understand this, logically. Physically my body is pretty much screaming.

When he fucked me again a few nights ago-I pleaded with him to slow down. To stop. I found myself not wanting to orgasm, I found myself enjoying how good it felt so much—I really didn't WANT it to end with an orgasm. Of course he was not going to let me have one—but yet, he was fucking me hard and deep and just the way he knows will make me come. And I simply fought it. I took deep breaths, refocused my energy, tried to feel different sensations and not just the way his cock pushing right against my g-spot was making my toes melt. Its like when you have a bad itch and you finally stop itching it and just let it go warm on you as the blood finally reaches the surface of your skin. My whole body was warm and tingled and it felt like sex I had never had before.

When he finished, again, I suffered through the torture of my cunt aching as if the warm had turned scalding hot. I curled into a tight ball for a minute and breathed through the pain. Yes, pain. And then I relaxed. My body felt like I had just had a good workout and my skin was tingling and alive.

It's hard to explain how I feel now. I am constantly wanting to jump him and I've probably asked for an orgasm about 5 times a day for the past three days—but yet, my whole body feels different and hungry for him. When he kisses me, I feel it in my clit. When he strokes my breasts, I feel it in my thighs. When he bites on my skin, it feels good. It's like my whole body is receptive to his touch and I just want more and more of it. I don't know how long he will make me wait, and I will continue to ask for it, like it's a piece of chocolate cake. However, I have to admit that I am not HATING the way my body feels once I get past those first few moments of want. After that, it just feels so good I don't want it to stop.

Republished with permission from Bad Bad Girl. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.