Denied Pt. 03

One month. Today makes one calendar month since her last orgasm. Everyday, she prays that today will be the day that he lets her cum, but, if truth be told, she would be a little disappointed if he did.

Over the past month, she had seen him every day. Some days, she saw him multiple times, and every time, he would edge her. He would edge her until it was taking only seconds for her to feel as if she would climax any moment. Then, he would stop, take her in whatever manner he felt like that day, and then, he would send her on her way.

By this point, she was wearing the largest Ben Wa balls he could find. Daily. She was on edge constantly, she had had many days that she could feel her juices running down her legs as she walked around town. She was always turned on, but at the same time, she couldn't imagine actually cumming. She had almost started feeling satisfied herself anytime she made her master cum, as if his pleasure were all she needed.

She was in her mandated position, nude, kneeling, back straight, head bowed, hands folded together, palms up, in her lap. She had been waiting only a few moments this time when he commanded her to rise and follow him to the giant X in the corner of the room. The X was black, with silver and black cuffs on each branch, for her ankles and wrists.

Upon being strapped in, she was spread eagle, in a standing position. He reached into his pocket and she saw him bring out a pair of nipple clamps that were chained together, on the chain, hung a weight. She shuddered as he fastened them to her sensitive nipples. As soon as he let go, she felt the weight pulling her tits. It felt unlike anything else. The heaviness mixed with the pressure. It felt like her nipples would fall off.

Next, he retrieved a gag from his drawer and slid it into her mouth. This, she was used to. He gagged her at least twenty-five percent of the time. She had hated it at first, now, she reveled in the ability to not speak, to have her speech controlled as much as her orgasms. She breathed pleasing him, dreamed of his controlling her.

He walks away and comes back with his favorite leather flogger. She knows the pain is coming. Usually he beats her ass. He has only whipped other parts of her on a few occasions. She makes eye contact with him, though she knows she isn't allowed to do so. She wants him to know she wants this, that she loves him whipping her.

Without a word, he draws back and begins whipping her front with the flogger, each strand sending painful pleasure radiating through her breasts with each strike. She sees the welts rising on her chest, sees the redness dominating her skin, and feels her excitment sliding down her legs.

After a few moments, he begins whipping her mound as well. She feels every strand, of every strike, be it on her mound, or her tits, resonating deep within her. She begins shying away from each strike as the skin he is whipping gets more and more sensitive. He begins in on her thighs as then, and she feels as if all of her is on fire, between the stinging from the flogging, and how turned on she was.

When she feels as though she won't be able to take anymore, he stops, almost as though he can read her. He walks up, hands at his sides, flogger dragging the floor behind him, and touches her inner thighs.

"Mm... Good girl, I thought you might enjoy that." He says when he feels the wetness on her legs. "Now, lets have some real fun."

He unstraps her from the X and leads her over to the wooden sex horse in the center of the room, a relatively new addition. He instructs her to mount it, which she does without hesitation. Once seated, she feels it pushing into her swollen and needy pussy. He bends her forward and leaves her there. Her only want is to grind against it to orgasm, but she knows that this is unacceptable, so she stays as still as possible, not wanting him to think she is trying to give herself release.

He returns with a heart shaped princess plug and a wooden paddle with the word slut imbedded in it. She gasps against the gag in her mouth. She feels him drip lube onto her asshole and feels the cold, metal plug pressing into her, stretching her slowly. He is always gentle when inserting a plug. She struggles to remain still as the plug stretches her to the limit. Soon, she feels her hole close around the plug and she lets out an audible sigh.

"Are you ready, my little whore?"

She nods her head and, almost immediately, she feels the unrelenting sting from the wooden paddle across her ass. She moans, both at the pain and at the feel of her pussy forcibly grinding against the horse. Again, he paddles her, and again she moans. Harder now, more rubbing, more moaning.

She loses count of how many times he imprints the word slut on her ass with the paddle. She is consumed with not cumming, overwhelmed by the simultaneous bittersweet feel of being spanked, and the forced grinding of her pussy on the horse. The sensation is so intense she nearly cums. He must sense this as he stops and asks if she is okay.

She nods and he removes her from the horse and walks her to the couch. He instructs her to lie down and spread her legs for him. She does and when the open air contacts her pussy she sighs. She is so swollen from the contact with the horse, and the length of time she has gone without an orgasm, that it doesn't take much to get her going.

"This is numbing ointment," he says as he produces a tube from his pocket. "It should help to take care of your urge to cum while I fuck you."

He walks to her and puts a relatively large amount on his fingertips. He begins applying the ointment to her while saying, "This should effectively turn you into nothing more than a breathing sex toy. Fit for my enjoyment for the next while, so that I may fuck you properly without worrying about you cumming."

At this, he removed his thick cock from his pants and stooped down to align himself with her waiting pussy. He hovered for a few moments, making sure the cream had done its job. When he entered her, she could barely tell, which was an extremely foreign feeling. It was surreal, she knew he was in her, she could feel him slamming his body into her, feel her tits shaking from the collisions of their bodies. She just lay there, feeling him fucking her, without actually feeling it. It was incredible.

For the first time in a month, she wasn't worried about trying not to cum, because she knew that no matter what she managed to do, she could not orgasm until the cream wore off. She was pleasing her master. At this point, his orgasm was almost as pleasurable as her own would be.

She let him fuck her for as long as he wanted, rocking to his rhythm. Finally, she felt him stiffen and thrust his body into her hard and deep a few more times. He pulled out, pulled his pants up, and looked at her.

She rose and dropped back into her position.

"You know, you are an amazing slave. I have thought a lot about letting you cum and here is where that thought has lead me. When it had been a week, I said to myself, 'If she can go a week, why not a month?' And now I am thinking, 'If she can go a month, why not six?'. Then, that gets me thinking. 'Why not a year?' And ultimately, I have concluded this... 'If a person can go a whole year without cumming, why would they ever need to cum again?'"