Denial Slut Learns to Cuck Ch. 06

My very worst fear and quite possibly biggest fantasy have finally come true. Sir and I have been discussing his long-term goals for me, and he wanted to know my preferences so he could perhaps take them into consideration in his decision if he so chose to. The topic we were to discuss? Denial. Orgasm denial. Permanent orgasm denial. He wants to know if I like the idea of never cumming again!

Well, what do you think? It scares the shit out of me. Here I am, not even a year in, shit, not even half of a year in, and I absolutely cannot imagine myself being in a more constant state of arousal. My threshold for frustration is so low, yet somehow it continues to get lower. I hate that I love feeling this insane need. I want more than anything to be the fucktoy that Sir wants, and I trust him to train me to become what he wants me to be. I also know that he would only expect me to achieve something he truly believed I could accomplish for him. So if permanent denial is what he wants, then of course, permanent denial is what he gets. It will be a real emotional challenge.

He could see my hesitation at the idea before I even told him my reactions verbally. He could also read the arousal in my body through the flush of my cheeks and my slowed breathing. He offered the idea of an alternative of allowing a single, extremely rare orgasm, the purpose which was to allow me a brief glimpse, a momentary feeling of that which I sacrificed for his enjoyment. This seemed even more cruel to me, like as if he were to give me one chip while holding the whole bag in front of me just out of my reach. Who eats one chip and is satisfied? I'd rather have no chips, because just the little taste makes me want more chips. I would bet that the same is true with orgasms. If I am allowed one small orgasm once a year, it will not satisfy, but only increase my desire and need for more orgasm. This would be a brutal torture given by only the most sadistic of men and tolerated by only masochistic women. But that was us.

I knew that my input was meant only to help him learn how to further my torture, to make my suffering more exquisite for his amusement. He wants to push to see just how insane he can drive me, and then he will go a bit beyond.

We discussed the benefits of complete chastity versus constant edging and teasing, and Sir learned so much more than I was prepared for him to know.

He learned that chastity was more effective for me when the bondage was mental rather than physical. For instance, a chastity belt would be relatively easy to block out. Being told not to touch would be much more of a mind fuck. Both have their place for sure, but knowing that I can touch but won't touch is arousing for both Sir and me. It serves as an opportunity for me to show him how obedient a slut I will be for him.

He also found out that periods of no touch or chastity are particularly challenging when they follow a period of extreme tease and denial. He knows now that I want to be teased until I cry and beyond. I want to be teased until I use my mercy word, yellow. I say yellow instead of saying I wish to be pushed to red, because red is a bad place. Red means something is legitimately wrong. Yellow is that safe place before you hit red, where you really have hit the wall, and to continue in the way you are playing would be unsafe. I want to, scratch that. I need to be teased, edged, ruined, and denied until I use yellow, and I can take a lot. I may even be able to take more than he is interested in giving, but it still scares the shit out of me to know that he understands how far I crave going. What if I get exactly what I want?

What if he ties me down, all four limbs, my naked flesh untouched and covered with goosebumps, and he uses all of this knowledge against me? What if I cannot get away and the fact that I must now take whatever he gives only increases my arousal? What if he notices, which he of course will, if not from the sight of my creamy pussy lips dripping their juices, but from the unmistakable aroma of my desire? Will he tell me that he notices these things, use them to make me blush, make the humiliation of my exposure and requirement for torment a source of fuel for my degradation? Would he touch me at every square inch of my skin except the very spots I ache for his knowing fingers to explore? Would he overload me with pain and pleasure sensations that so confused me that I did not know whether I was suffering or enjoying myself? Perhaps both.

Would he use all of me for his pleasure, every hole, my ass, my cunt, and my mouth? Would he allow me to have his cum inside me? Could I earn that gift? Would he find me worthy, or would he explode all over me and leave it to dry, me just a fucktoy he used to get off? When I begged, would he smile? Would I feel him stiffen within my tightly clenching walls as I fought off my own orgasm, struggling so desperately to give him that very release? Would I make him proud? Would he feel fulfilled, cherished, and honored as my owner and controller? Would he lick my tears away as he promised that more and more tears were to come? Would he hurt me, not because it is what I need, but purely because he enjoys making me suffer?

*sighs* I certainly hope so.