A Surprise Ending

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My mistress introduces me to post-orgasm torture.
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I climbed the steps to Mistress Seoul's second floor studio with great anticipation. This was our third meeting, and each previous session had been amazing. She was an Asian beauty, of medium height and relatively voluptuous. I knocked, and almost immediately the door opened a foot to reveal her smiling face peeking around the edge of the door. She stepped back to let me in, and immediately closed and locked the door behind me. She greeted me with a quick hug, and asked me if I needed to use the rest room or wanted some water. I declined both, and she sat down on a large armchair.

Mistress Seoul didn't look like a dominatrix at the moment. She was wearing a red silk robe with decorative embroidery. The small anteroom we were in gave no hints either -- it was a tiny but cozy sitting room, lit by a few electric candles. Her black hair cascaded around her shoulders, and she looked both at ease and gorgeous as she inspected me.

"First, off with the clothes. You know where they go." Like most mistresses, she always had a pre-session chat. The second time, though, she had me undress first, and the plan seemed to be the same for this one. I quickly shed my clothes, hanging them on a hook on the opposite wall and placing my shoes on the floor underneath them.

Mistress gestured to a pillow on the floor near her feet, saying, "Have a seat, get comfortable." She liked her subs nude and below her, but at least she didn't go in for uncomfortable kneeling positions with one's head on the floor.

After a few pleasantries about the weather and my trip to her city, she outlined her plan.

"By now, I know what you like and what turns you off. I have a good idea of your tolerance for discomfort and pain. You enjoy the sensual and erotic aspects of BDSM, and you enjoy an orgasm far more than orgasm denial. That's not unusual, of course, but some clients..." She didn't finish the sentence.

"Your email said you wanted me to push your boundaries, and closed with, 'surprise me!'" I can do both, but that means we can't discuss too many details up front. Still good?"

I assured her that her plan was fine so far.

"So," she continued, "I need to be sure one part of the plan is OK with you. We've always used a safe word which, if you used it, caused me to stop whatever I was doing immediately. For most of our session, we'll continue to do that. If something is too painful, or if you think I'm going to make you orgasm before I'm ready, you can use your safe word."

"But, when we get to one part of the session, the safe word protocol changes. If you use it, I will continue what I'm doing for 60 seconds. I'll let you know when we are almost there, and if you use it again, I will stop after 60 more seconds. If you don't use it again, we keep going and start a new cycle."

"That means that your safe word won't stop me for two minutes. Or longer, if you change your mind before you say it again. That may seem scary, but I can assure you of a couple of things. First, while we are using this protocol, I won't be doing anything that can injure you or even cause you pain that will last after I stop. Second, as with everything I do, I'll be keeping an eye on your responses and if I feel there's any kind of emergency, I'll stop with or without a safe word. But, I know what I'm doing and I don't expect any emergencies. The activity I have in mind may be intense, but it's also quite harmless."

I thought about her suggestion for a moment. Going into a session without a safe word that would stop things immediately was something I had never done before, but I trusted Mistress Seoul's judgment and skill completely. So, I didn't think for long. Casting caution and doubts to the wind, I agreed to her terms.

"Excellent!" she said with a big smile, "You won't regret it. At least, I hope not!" She followed the last statement with a wink, which I hoped meant she was kidding.

We both stood, and she showed me to an interior door.

The next room was larger and somewhat brighter. Restraints, ropes, and all types of floggers and paddles hung from hooks on the walls. An X-shaped cross stood at one end of the room, and a small electric hoist hung from the ceiling nearby. Various bulky gear was pushed against the walls. The center of the room was dominated by a padded table.

The table looked rather like a large massage table, but it had a few interesting features. Steel rings were located every few inches in the wood beams that supported the padded top. These, I knew, made attaching restraints simple and fast. They could be used with metal clips or with ropes equally well. It was a bit larger than a typical massage table, and appeared to be unusually sturdy.

"We're going to use just the table today," she said, "so we won't have any interruptions to change equipment or positions. In some sessions, those little breaks are good. Today, though, the action is going to be non-stop." With another wink, she added, "For better or worse."

She instructed me to sit on the edge of the table, and rapidly attached leather wrist and ankle restraints. This was her usual approach, as the rings on the restraints made changing setups faster than complicated rope work. Then, she surprised me by adding a thick belt around my waist and a pair of leather thigh restraints.

"Get on the table, on your back," she instructed. When I was centered to her satisfaction, she clipped my wrists to the waist belt. She proceeded to use nylon bands to attach the waist belt to the table, and then the thigh and ankle restraints. From the waist down, I was quite immobile, though I could move my upper torso a bit.

"We're not done yet," she said, and pulled a thick roll of pink plastic wrap off a nearby shelf. She first wrapped my stomach and ribs, encircling me and the table multiple times. When the number of layers seemed sufficient, she surveyed her work. The wrap didn't get as high as my nipples, and she gave one, then the other, a slightly painful pinch.

She immediately proceeded to repeat the procedure with my thighs. If the restraints had allowed me a little wiggle room before, now I had none. I had been restrained many times before, often in helpless and inescapable postions, but never had I been immobilized so completely. I could move my head a little, and wiggle my fingers in the gap between the upper and lower wraps, but nothing else budged.

My Mistress stood back to survey her work. Satisfied, she said, "I guess it's safe to do this..." With that, she undid her robe, slipped it off her shoulders, and tossed it aside.

To my surprise, she was wearing just a corset, nothing else. In past sessions, she had remained completely covered, one time in a latex catsuit and the other in a PVC minidress with a matching thong.

"You didn't know that I'm a bit of an exhibitionist," she said. "I only let that side of me come out on special occasions, though, and only when my slave is particularly helpless."

"Your bondage is even more complete than usual. Unfortunately, it doesn't give me access to your ass. You know I enjoy that -- there's nothing that makes me feel more in charge than being inside a helpless slave."

"But, tonight, I'm going to focus only on a few parts of you... your cock, for starters..." With that, she raked her nails across my cock and balls. My cock swelled just a bit, but she didn't continue.

"Your nipples, just a bit..." As she said that, she reached out with both hands, and gave each nipple a prolonged squeeze. It hurt, though not too badly. Despite the discomfort, my cock seemed to have a mind of its own and responded a bit more.

"And, of course, your brain..." In one smooth move, she leaped onto the table, put one foot on either side of me, and positioned her exposed pussy and ass inches above my face. "Don't even think about raising your head," she cautioned. Glancing back at my stiffening cock, she chuckled. "Well, I guess you are thinking about it, but don't you dare do it... Your brain is your most powerful sex organ, and we'll work that a little tonight, too."

She gracefully climbed off the table and stood next to me. Then, turning her back to me, she began organizing various implements on an adjacent table. She leaned over at her waist, again exposing her bare bottom. I was sure she was doing that just to taunt and excite me.

"We're going to work with very few interruptions tonight," she said. "I want to maintain the intensity of what we are doing, and not give you a chance to relax. Or, this a chance to relax..." she said, giving my cock a flick with her finger.

Reaching behind her, she grabbed a length of round, shoelace-type cord. Quickly, she looped it around the base of my cock a couple of times, then my balls, and then tied the ends snugly.

Raking her nails up the length of my cock, she watched it begin to engorge. The tie, I knew, would tend to keep me harder than usual and make it more difficult for my erection to subside.

Once again, she pinched both nipples, hard and long. She looked into my eyes as she did that, but I didn't know if she was gauging my tolerance for the pain or daring me to use our safeword.

She quickly turned to her table and, when she turned back, she held an electrical device emitting a low buzzing sound. She brought it to my nipples, and I felt a mild prickling sensation. It wasn't unpleasant or painful. She moved it to my balls, and then, bit by bit, up my cock. When she reached the head, she lingered a bit, touching different spots and then withdrawing it.

"That's not too bad, is it?" she prompted. "No, Mistress," I replied. With that, she reached around and turned a knob. Now, as she touched my cock, the mild prickling became a little zap. She proceeded to tour my exposed bits again, ending with my nipples.

When she again turned the dial, I suspected the zap would turn into a more painful sensation. It did. Now, she held the probe away from me, bringing it in to touch, or nearly touch, me for just a second at a time. Each touch cause a flinch or involuntary jerk on my part, at least as much of a jerk as my restraints would allow.

Through this, my cock got even harder. "You seem to like this," she said. She placed the electrical device back on the her table. "Maybe you need even more electricity."

She proceeded to place what I knew were electrode pads at the head of my cock, down the shaft, and on my thighs. She must have had everything set up, as in a few seconds I felt a pulsing tingle in my cock.

I've had different electrostim devices used on me, and the sensations ranged from painful or annoying to interesting and unusual. None were overly erotic, and after a few tries I didn't suggest them when discussion session plans.

As my Mistress played with the controls, I was happy that the sensations were a sort of gentle thrumming that weren't unpleasant. They felt almost like a vibration, and there was a sensation of motion.

"How does that feel?"

"Interesting," I replied. Smiling, she continued to play with the controls. The sensations shifted, and grew stronger and weaker. As a few minutes passed, she focused on my face while adjusting the controls. I felt a more powerful sensation in the head of my cock. It was as if there was something inside the head, producing an odd vibrating motion. The sensation was slightly uncomfortable due to its power but was also more pleasurable than other electrostim feelings I'd had.

"I think we found your hot button," she giggled. She increased the intensity a bit more, and my whole body wiggled slightly under the restraints.

"That feels really good," I admitted. For the first time ever, I thought I could be brought to orgasm by electricity alone. I was quite sure she wasn't ready for that, though, and I prepared to warn her that if she kept it up for much longer I'd be in danger of coming.

She was focused intensely on my face, though, and before I could say a word, she ratcheted down the intensity. A few seconds later, she swiftly removed the electrodes and gave my cock a few strokes.

"We seem to be enjoying ourselves," she chuckled. I couldn't disagree, as she had the evidence grasped in her hand.

She proceeded to alternate discomfort, pain, and pleasure. She would rap my cock and balls lightly with a crop, then stroke them. A few times, she leaned over me and let her long hair brush against my exposed abdomen and cock. A stroke or two might be followed by a light slap.

She continued this process of alternating pain and pleasure. At one point, after pinching both nipples hard and long, she leaned over and brushed her own firm nipples against the knuckles of my exposed but immobilized fingers. "Oops!" was all she said, with a sly smile.

Through all this, my cock remained engorged and hard. During a normal session, the delays in changing equipment or restraints would cause my erection to wane before being aroused again. Not tonight, though. I was definitely excited and beginning to hope she'd release me soon.

"You are staying nice and hard for me," she said, pointing out the obvious. She gave me some long, slow strokes, one after the other, that I thought might be leading to my desired finale. Then, as I felt the stirrings of an orgasm, or at least the precursor to one, she turned to her table and grabbed a ball gag.

I was surprised, as she had never used a gag of any kind. I'm not a fan of gags, as they limit communication and, on one occasion, resulted in an earlier-than-expected orgasm when the mistress ignored my attempts to warn her I was getting close.

In seconds, though, she had the ball in my mouth and the strap secured behind my head. She returned her attention to my cock, and began to explain.

"I told you we'd have a different safeword arrangement during part of the session. That time is now. Your safeword is three quick grunts, uh-uh-uh. Let's hear it," she said.

"Uh-uh-uh," I squeezed out around the gag.

"Perfect," she continued. "Don't use it to warn me when you are going to come. I know you are going to come, because I'm going to make it happen. Got that?"

I nodded that I understood. She gently played with my cock and balls.

"Good. Use the safeword only if what I am doing is so intense you want me to stop. And remember, I won't stop right away. After sixty seconds, if you use the safeword again, I'll stop completely after another sixty seconds. If you don't use it at that point, we'll start over. Understand?"

Once again, I nodded, though I was a bit confused. She seemed to be getting me ready to finish, not for more pain and pleasure play. I was in no position to control the flow of events, though, so I relaxed to let her do whatever she had planned.

She released the cord constraining my cock and balls, and began to massage the areas that had been bound. The expanded circulation felt good, and her efforts meant that there was no danger of my erection going away without the binding. She drizzled a little oil into her hand and began stroking me more vigorously.

After her lengthy teasing session, my excitement was at a peak. She watched my reactions, though, and didn't push me too fast. Once, when I was sure my orgasm was imminent, she slowed her efforts and I found that I hadn't quite hit the point of no return.

Eventually, though, she smiled and said, "Now's the time..."

And it was. She increased her speed and pressure, and rubbed the head with one hand while stroking the other to the base. I couldn't have stopped if my life depended on it, and I found myself groaning into the gag as my cock spurted and my hips tried unsuccessfully to thrust.

Being so completely immobile was a strange sensation, but I let her hands do the work and soaked up the pleasurable sensations.

As her hands slowed and my spasms ceased, I had forgotten about the safeword arrangement and was already thinking how pleasant a hot shower and a glass of wine would be after she got me off the table.

My first inkling that we weren't done was when we were at the point where I expected her to stop stroking and head for the bathroom to retrieve a

washcloth. She did neither. She kept stroking and even increased the pressure on my cock head a little. It still felt good, but it was beginning to get a little uncomfortable.

Like most guys (and women, too), after an orgasm I usually experience a period of sensitivity where continued stimulation can be uncomfortable or even painful. I've occasionally asked partners to stop their efforts when I hit that point, as the transition can happen fairly quickly.

She looked at me with an innocent expression on her face. "Was that good for you?"

I nodded vigorously, but was also thinking that she should be wrapping things up.

"Glad to hear that... but we're not quite done here," she said. With that, she looked deeply into my eyes and began stroking harder and faster. My discomfort ratcheted up in a major way.

She held her gaze, and smiled. Was that an evil smile? Or just an "I'm in control" smile? Either way, she wasn't letting up.

My glans was by far the most sensitive part of my cock, and she gave it special attention every few seconds. The discomfort was approaching pain, and the overall sensation was intense. There was a tiny underlying element of remembered pleasure there, but now the pain and overall intensity were driving me wild.

I tried to squirm, and for the first time realized why she had bound me so securely. There was nothing I could do to lessen the intensity of what she was doing. I couldn't thrust, or squirm away, or do anything other than lie there as she tortured my ultra-sensitive cock.

The sensations were approaching the point of being unbearable. I grunted three times quickly, knowing that even then I was a full two minutes away from salvation.

"Giving up already? But we've just begun. OK, I'm watching the second hand on the clock." She continued vigorous stroking, and I hoped the time would go quickly.

"Oh, I forgot to mention something... When you use the safeword a second time, I've still got a whole minute to torture you. And, I'll make that minute twice as intense as what you've had so far. So, I suggest you try and hold off."

As she said that, her intensity decreased. She spent more time on my less-sensitive shaft, and reduced the pressure on my glans. It was almost bearable, and I feared what she had in store for me if I used the safeword again.

"Decision in five seconds... three... two... one..." She looked at me intently. I stayed silent.

After a few seconds, she burst into a big smile. "Great choice! I'm sooo glad we get to play some more!"

With those words, she again resumed her more intense stroking. The sensations were soon unbearable. Every now and then she backed off a bit, as if she sensed I was ready to use the safeword again. But then, she'd start up again.

I don't know how long that continued. I was almost in another world mentally. Perhaps that's what they call sub space, though I've never actually experienced that. When she peaked her pressure again, I grunted three times.

"Oooh, giving up again? Remember my warning... you may be better off letting me play than forcing me to squeeze all of my enjoyment into one, final minute..."

"Besides," she cooed, "I'm getting really excited by this!" She swiftly lifted herself onto the table, straddling my arms and facing my feet. She did this so quickly she barely let go of my cock. She kept gently stroking the shaft, mostly avoiding the super-sensitive head.

"Can you tell how aroused I am?" She lowered her bare pussy to within a few inches of my face, saying, "Five seconds to decide... But I really am turned on." I looked longingly at her fully exposed pussy, and it did seem to glisten with moisture. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I detected the aroma of arousal, too.

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