I want to Cum

*Normally I write from a more feminine and submissive perspective about myself. Occasionally however, I enjoy writing from a more masculine, dominant outlook. Both are exciting to me, fun, and engaging. I apologise if it isn't what I normally write, or if you enjoy this but not my other stories. Writing for me is an outlet, an escape, and sometimes that retreat from reality falls under many different scopes of my life :). I hope you like it!*

Finishing my final knot, checking each bind to ensure it was secure yet not restrictive, I looked down at the adorable set of eyes staring up at me. Soft, wide, eager, and slowly falling into that submissive space, that sweet spot of letting go, relenting to the desires you desperately want to explore. All it takes is one word and she is back in control, but Claire didn't come to be in control. She came to be submissive, to be dominated, and with a unique problem that she wanted to over come.

She wanted to have an orgasm.

Growing up in a restrictive household, giving way to unfulfilling relationships and connections, Claire had struggled with her sexual desires. Of which there were many, finding out many of her kinks and interests when we first talked, all freely given through an adorably blushing face. Being genderfluid, Claire first met me in a more feminine aspect, which allowed her to be a bit more open with me as a dominant.

Of course, those beautiful eyes certainly still held a plethora of nervousness, as I smiled down at the tense submissive sitting in front of me. A gentle hand on her shoulder, lending some comfort and confidence, yet keeping her in that sweet spot. That addicting mindset that allowed you to push yourself into situations you desperately wanted to experience. A mindset I knew very well.

Opening up one day, she talked about her difficulty orgasming. Often needing heavy vibrations, patience, and always alone. We talked back and forth as friends, slowly falling into discussing a more in depth dynamic. Never suggesting solutions, admittedly enjoying the frustrated glares being shot at me, we eventually settled on a situation that worked for both of us.

A situation that found her tied up in my apartment, legs spread and fully clothed, only a leather collar marking her as my sub for the evening. As well as a healthy amount of rope, ensuring Claire kept still, despite her constant wiggling. Anxious, filled with anticipation and eagerness, she huffed and glared as I calmly went about getting her ready. I just smiled to myself, taking extra time so she could be more at ease, taking her annoyance as a good sign.

Standing behind Claire, content she wasn't going anywhere, I gently moved my hands along her legs. Leaning down, whispering in her ear, I had her repeat why she was here, and the goals she had set for herself. Bravado stolen, replaced by submissive desires, she repeated the phrase we had worked on, stripped into four words. Simple. Easy to remember and repeat.

I want to cum.

My hands never stopping, staying on her thighs, listening to Claire's breath quicken, chest pushing against my ropes. Those four words had so much energy, tension, frustration, desire, ache, need, and desperation tied to them. Representing so much in her life, and how she wanted more, needed more. How she wanted more control over her sexual desires, yet simultaneously less control as a submissive.

Starting to softly moan under my touch, I kissed her neck, again having Claire repeat her new mantra while I ran my hands up and down her jeans.

I want to cum.

Voice catching, betraying the excitement building inside of her, a blush firmly planted on Claire's face, again and again I had her answer questions. Each one having the same response, as if it was the only sentence in her vocabulary.

I want to cum.

Moving in front of her, kneeling between forcibly spread legs, I gently ran my fingers all over her body, conveniently ignoring her pussy and nipples. I could see the frustration in her eyes, what she wanted me to do, yet I knew she wasn't ready. Knew she needed more time, more comfortability. Holding that intense, adorable, desperate stare, I teased Claire for an hour, until she was a mess of frustration. Satisfied, right where I wanted her, I gently kissed her forehead, untying her from my chair.

Confused and pouting, Claire pleaded for me not to stop, turning deep red when I asked her why, not able to give me an answer. I walked her to the door, a smile on my face the only indication of how much I was enjoying the frustrated submissive before me, shooting glares in my direction. Hugging goodbye, feeling the intensity behind her grip, I left Claire with one simple rule until I saw her next.

No vibrators.

She could have sex, play with herself, rub and hump to her hearts content. But no vibrations. This rule was met by much whining and complaining, but I simply stared, waiting for the submissive temper tantrum to subside. Pouting, she agreed, as I knew she would. After all, as a submissive myself, I knew that pleasing your Dominant was its own form of pleasure. An addicting one at that.

All week I received messages of frustration, always laughing at each one. Poor Claire, knowing full well without her vibrator the chances of cumming were very slim, didn't stop her from trying. A lot. Each time left exhausted, denial coursing through her as she screamed into a pillow. If only she knew how difficult things were going to become for her and that excited little clit.

The next week found her in my same chair, wearing the lingerie I requested. Black stockings matching her panties and bra, simple and yet elegantly sexy. Again, Claire whimpered as I tied her up, running hands and fingers all over her shaking, excited body. Yet, still playfully ignoring the spots she so desperately wished I didn't, whining as she blushed, not quite ready to voice her desire without being commanded to do so.

As I calmly stared into those pleading eyes, I asked again what she wanted, what she needed. Claire blushed hard, her voice ever so soft, leaning in right to her lips to hear.

I want to cum.

Gripping her thighs, feeling the tension in her body, so close I could feel her breath catching. I watched the desperation, the frustration, the need in those eyes. I saw it cultivate, grow, her desires running rampant through her own imagination. Exactly where I wanted her, and where she needed to be. Smiling, another tender kiss to her forehead, I sent Claire home once more, the pout and glares emitted from my submissive warming my slightly sadistic soul.

Another week of agonising messages, borderline "death threats", and endless sass. It was safe to say, frustrated Claire was quite adorable. By the time next Saturday rolled around, Claire was ready, on her knees immediately in my care, collared and ready. She didn't wait for the chair, pleading and begging to be played with, to be touched. I was so proud of her, gaining the confidence to admit what she wanted, that armour of fear slipping just a bit, ready to explore. Ready to be a good girl.

Stripping Claire, left just in her panties, I placed her in a comfortable harness, arms securely behind her. Brought to the bedroom, I placed her against my chest, feeling her melt into me. Head back, staring up with those beautiful eyes, I drank in the tiny moans as I ran my hands over her. Gripping, playing, teasing, I watched as she fell further into her sub space, succumbing to control.

Slowly, gently, I moved my hands to her pussy, fingers running up and down, feeling her clit through soaked panties. Claire let go, moaning hard, leaning against my body for support. Slow, methodical, and relenting, I simply rubbed the excited pussy in front of me. I felt her push, trying to get closer to my touch, happy to no longer simply be teased. Nibbling her ear, I asked again what she wanted. Groaning, through heavy breathing, desperation dripping in her voice, she responded with conviction, no longer soft voices.

I want to cum!

My rubbing never ceased, yet never quickened. I watched as she enjoyed my touch, wanting more, yet lost in her own arousal. I took my other hands holding her still, moving to play with her nipples. Pinching them between my fingers, forcing new moans from Claire, she whimpered as I teased and played, a moment she had been left to simply imagine for two weeks. Again I asked what she wanted, barely able to respond from the emotions coursing through her.

I-I...I want to cu-u-um.

Despite the hunger in her voice, the desire soaking in those eyes as she stared up at me, I again left her wanting. I needed her at the very edge of frustration, her need to cum strong enough to overpower the negative emotions that came with resistance to her own pleasure. Left again on edge, yet satisfied at finally being played with, the sassy Claire left with a smile, her frustrated weekly texts replaced with dreams she had, or fantasies she wanted.

Claire's fourth visit found her on my lap, leaning hard against my chest, completely naked. No rope, no chair, just her happily submissive, so excited to be played with. She moaned as my fingers ran through her pussy, resting and rubbing her tiny little clit. Aching, whimpering, smiling, she answered each question with a smile, voice still betraying the emotions spreading through her body.

I want to cum.

Claire ran her hands through my hair behind her, gripping hard as she quivered and moaned. Soaking wet, I could feel her on the cusp of an orgasm, where most people would easily be pushed over the edge. But Claire wasn't most people, and I wanted her denial absolute. Her frustration constant. Her need the only thing occupying her mind. I wanted the only desire in her life to be those four words she had repeated over and over in my arms. She needed to believe them, not just want them.

I want to cum.

Claire's denial was a constant part of her life now, allowing herself to embrace and enjoy her sexual desires. Soaked panties, rubbed legs together, and without permission for vibrators, rubbing herself for the first time. Even as a teenager and young adult, masturbation had always been extremely taboo. Yet, worked up after each session, nights of agonising arousal, she succumbed to learning about her own body, mimicking what I had done to her each week.

Of course, with no climax.

Soon I brought her to different events around town, giving Claire the freedom to express herself as never before in a safe environment. A nervous, blushing face as she wore her collar out for the first time. Constant straightening hands, desperately trying to pull down the latex dress I had chosen for her. My personal favourite was the permanent glare she plastered on her face directed at me, sitting in a club in her new bunny suit. Yet, after each night, my hands were met by a desperately wet pussy, and a very eager sub.

Months after meeting, now happy to call me her Dom, Claire no longer pouted after our sessions. While she still messaged me all week, retelling dreams and nights of frustrations, she did so with a smile on her face. Her pussy nearly always wet, willing, and eager to be played with. Smiling, she knelt and waited each time she came over, waiting to be collared. No demands, no sass. Just a good girl that wanted to be controlled.

In my favourite outfit of hers, Claire found herself tied to my chair once again, like so many months ago. Black stockings, garters, and heels perfectly suited to the adorable submissive before me. She giggled while I tightened the rope around her, securely held in place. Thighs, chest, ankles, calves, arms, and waist all wrapped tight enough to ensure her co-operation. New, however, was the ball gag I strapped behind her head, to a chorus of muffled whimpers. Gags were fairly new to Claire, but from the look in her eyes it was evident of their effect.

Moving behind, my hands all over her excited body, I kissed her neck, softly whispering what a good, patient girl she had been for me these past months. Blushing and moaning, she quickly lost herself, noises being forced out of her gag as I pinched, grabbed, spanked, tweaked, rubbed, and toyed with every part of her. Seemingly always on edge, Claire no longer took long to become excited.

Today, however, I didn't keep my pace even. I didn't layer my teasing in with questions of what she wanted, desired. Claire no longer needed to be asked, she repeated her mantra over and over. Even gagged, whimpering as she was toyed with, I heard her again and again, only one thought on her mind. One goal. One focus.

I want to cum.

I want to cum.

I want to cum.

Never slowing, fingers rubbing her clit, my other hands pinching her erect nipples. Claire's moans echoed around me, draining out any other noise as I focused on the task at hand. As she whimpered and begged, I slipped a finger inside of her, pressing against and rubbing her g-spot. Claire's eyes shot open, nearly screaming as I moved my thumb on her clit simultaneously, both sensitive areas rubbed and toyed with.

I stared back, matching that surprised stare with one of acceptance, trust, and control. Never stopping, holding her gaze, so close to one another the only thing I could see were those beautiful eyes, I whispered my own mantra, one I had repeated in my head for months, not daring to say it out loud before she was ready. Feeling the need in her body, seeing the desire on her face, I finally hoped that Claire took this challenge to heart, and was prepared for it.

I want you to cum.

Months of denial. Months of teasing. Of frustrating nights. Of wet panties and exhausting daydreams. Years of previous unfulfilled sexual experiences and relationships. All of it fell away. Claire, collared and bound, enjoyed many things about being submissive. But she had finally bought in to one desire, one focus. Finally understanding and accepting her mantra, ignoring all other external factors. Claire. Wanted. To. Cum.

And cum she did.

Screaming, quivering body uncontrollable, Claire came in my hands. In tears, barely able to breathe, I watched as her orgasm coursed through her, entire body tense. My finger was thrown out of her pussy, careful to not stop my rubbing on her sensitive clit. Tensing hard against her bonds, trying to escape, to wiggle, to wither in explosive pleasure, Claire could do nothing but scream and moan, succumbing to the orgasm taking control of her body. I patiently smiled, watching it all, months of preparation cumulating in a wondrous finale.

Whimpering, coming down from her release, I took out the gag, met with an incoherent babbling of thank you's. Still crying, I embraced her, hugging tightly to the submissive who trusted me, gave herself to me, and who allowed herself the self confidence to get to this point. Gently, I untied her, carrying my exhausted and vulnerable submissive to bed, holding tight as we cuddled, emotions high.

After a while, Claire returned from her internal retreat, a smile spread over her beautiful face. Running a hand through her hair, I told my good girl how proud I was of her. How difficult I knew it was to get to this point, and the internal struggles she fought to do so. Blushing hard, she could only respond with a hug, still slightly lost for words.

Staring back up at me, that hunger not quite sated behind those eyes, Claire giggled as she rubbed against my crotch with her clit. Legs on either side, flashing a look at me I had seen many times, desire emanating from my sub. Sitting up, hands beginning to move down, unbuckling my belt and jeans, she reached in to find my hardening cock. Her turn to stroke and tease, Claire giggled as she took it out, gently stroking.

Eyes never leaving me, she spoke the four simple words I had taught her. Words meant to focus her wants, to block out the external forces holding her from her own sexual desires. Four simple words that now had a much different tone and meaning behind them, as if she used them as a weapon. With a soft voice, hard as iron, she let me know exactly what she wanted.

I want to cum.