Dust and Piper Ch. 04

Dust

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Sometimes you need to take a moment to breathe, collect your thoughts, and accept you're currently undergoing a crisis.

After running into each other in the library, Piper and I exchanged contact info. It would be a little hard to get together otherwise. But I didn't realize she'd be texting me more than just to schedule hookup times. I mean, I'd have been fine with it if she was just texting to see how I'm doing or if she wants to hang out, but of course that's not what she sends me.

Literally the first thing she sends is a selfie of her lifting her shirt with no bar beneath it, flashing her freckled breasts as she sits on the rim of the campus's fountain. She's smiling and the phone is angled down on her as she keeps her shirt held with her chin and her free hand slips beneath her skirt. It may be night, but I doubt the campus is deserted enough to do that safely.

'Like what you see? :)' She sent a few seconds afterward. I was too busy clutching my phone to my chest, like my parents could sense the nude and were about to break down my door. Before I could send a reply, she sent another text. 'Too busy looking with one hand to reply? ;)'

That's the first crisis. I mean, it's been beaten into my head that sexual thoughts are sinful for my entire life. That I'm an awful person for just being aroused by something, much less other boys. And here Piper is, who is both a girl and who I've already slept with, and I'm still getting cold feet about telling her that--

Well, about telling her that she's sexy and she's making me wish we were on her bed together again. I guess that's the least dirty way of putting it.

But that's the problem! I want to be dirty and Piper is the perfect outlet for it and I still struggle even when alone. That night, I at least tried. I didn't pull down my pants and send her a picture of my erection or anything, but I did manage to reply, 'If you'd like.'

What she sent, I wasn't exactly prepared for.

'Actually, I'd like you to not do anything. Don't cum until I say so and I'll reward you for being such a good boy <3'

It was then that I realized exactly what being a sub meant. I was always under her thumb with this stuff. Well, I wouldn't be if I used the safeword, but I wouldn't. Not just because I wanted to make her happy and live out her dominant fantasies, but also because it made me even harder.

The idea of silently suffering, trying to hold your arousal in until you either break with shame or until you're rewarded? I thought there was something wrong with me because thinking about that only made me harder.

And that's my current crisis. I swear, it's been an hour and I can't stop thinking about it. Being allowed to do something you weren't going to do is completely different than not being allowed to do it at all. Normally, I would have just put the phone away and gone about my night, but now I can't stop thinking about it. It's constantly in my mind that I'm not allowed to masturbate, that she can arouse me and then turn around and deny me like that.

Trust me, I've been trying not to think about it, but I just can't. I get on my computer and work on my assignments, but there's this mocking copy of Piper's voice in the back of my mind asking, "Why not look at the picture? You can't masturbate, but that doesn't mean you can't be aroused." It started so small but has grown to be all I can think about, like a small itch in the back of my head that's turned into a body-covering irritation that I'm not allowed to scratch!

I power through each agonizing word I put down on the virtual screen, through every second I can feel the rate of my stiff penis rubbing against my underwear. I manage to finish my reading response for my English class, but by that point I can't hold it anymore.

'Please,' I text her, 'Can I satisfy myself? I think this is as long as I can go.'

A decade that I suffer through every second of passes in the three minutes it takes to respond. 'If I said yes whenever you wanted, then what would be the point of saying you couldn't?'

I beg her, but she just replies that she'll think about it.

Maybe she'll think about it while all I can do is think about her. I'm trapped lying on my bed, thinking about how she must be enjoying herself toying with me. This is what she gets off to, isn't it?

I bet she's at home by now, on her bed and naked, slipping her fingers in and out of her pussy. She's not doing any self-bondage or watching and porn or reading any erotica. No, she's just thinking about how I'm suffering. Oh, and I bet she's not gonna even consider letting me masturbate until she cums.

My phone vibrates on the table and I launch for it, hoping that I've done enough to please either the Lord or Piper-- whoever holds more power right now, I don't know-- and she's letting me do it.

It's from my mom. 'Will be home late. Remember to go to bed early; you have your classes in the morning.'

I grumble. Half from disappointment and half from annoyance that my mom thinks I can't handle myself.

But that text is what does it. I realize I'm holding my phone in my hands; it would be so easy to just go back to my conversation with Piper and look at the photo.

"You can't masturbate, but that doesn't mean you can't be aroused," my brain repeats in Piper's voice. "It won't hurt you. You can control yourself, right? Make me proud."

I can't resist.

I retreat to the bed and pull the picture back out. There Piper is, the warm air of the dying Summer washing over her naked breasts. Anyone could be watching her, but she's looking at the camera-- at me. Her hand is under her skirt. Knowing her, she's not even wearing underwear.

This is her way of taunting me, isn't it? She was probably masturbating while taking this, showing what she can do but I'm not allowed to. "Don't you wish you could be doing this?" The picture is asking.

"I only said you couldn't cum," Piper's voice in my head says. "It's fine if you don't go over the tipping point, right?"

Normally I'd be worried over semantics, questioning if it's really in the spirit of this if I work on that kind of technicality, but my patience has frayed so thin that I can't stop it from snapping.

I check to make sure my door is locked and the blinds are closed before throwing off my pants and wrapping my hand around my dick.

It's a wonderfully strange feeling, jacking off after being so hard for so long. It's almost painful, but the pleasure overrides it too much to care.

I prop my phone against my pillow as I slip my free hand under my shirt and tweak my nipples, never taking my eyes off of Piper's beautiful body and her ravenous smile.

It's all so much after ignoring it for so long, each sensation amplified a hundredfold. Each stroke of my dick, each flick of my nipples sends electricity coursing through me and soon enough I'm panting harder than I ever have before. I don't even think about avoiding the tipping point, I just close my eyes and spurt into the air.

My semen mostly lands on my shirt while some gets far enough to hit my face. More begins to trickle out and pool around the hand still clutching my penis as it turns limp.

I lay there, not moving, panting in orgasmic bliss. Time passes, but I'm not aware of how long. I'm just lost in my own world.

The phone dings and a message from Piper comes on screen. 'Alright, you've been a good boy long enough. You get 1 penis pass'

My heart stops. I'm half-naked and covered in my own semen on my bed with a picture of her breasts just below her text saying I've held back. Hot shame courses through me almost as much as arousal does.

I bite my lip as I reply. 'I've been bad.'