Loving Torture - The Session

Without the Cialis I had taken earlier in the day, my cock would have long ago given up its valiant fight for orgasm. After two hours it would have gone soft, worn out for the night from the battle.

This has happened before when Sara has subjected me to two hours of non-stop teasing and denial. She is disappointed when I go soft, of course always wanting more, but for me, as much as I need to cum after two hours of teasing, I am always grateful when the torture finally ends.

But through the magic of modern chemistry, and artificially dilated blood vessels, my cock begins to inch its way back to life, the drug empowering it to perform far beyond its natural physical strength.

I can feel the blood flooding back into the shaft and head as it begins its reluctant, slow climb back to full rigidity, aching as it expands, being forced by Sara and the drug to engorge against its will.

Even though my cock had given up its will to fight and is now being reluctantly forced back into the fray, my mind and balls are still in full battle mode, ready to resume the fight for ejaculation.

With my mind still screaming for release, and my balls screaming for relief, we are ready to enter combat once again, our overwhelming primal need for an orgasm driving us forward.

MY BALLS AND I NEED TO CUM!!! And my cock, even as a reluctant participant, is needed for that to happen. My mind and balls cannot get the release they need without the nerve endings in my cockhead participating in the event, so it MUST perform.

I am now grateful that the drug, and the astonishing skills of my wife, are doing their job. If this session ends now, before I cum, it will be catastrophic.

As my cock continues to lengthen and thicken, Sara holds her position, allowing my cockhead to slowly inch its way down her throat, sluggishly struggling back to full hardness, ultimately deep throating her as it reaches its full length and engorgement.

- - When Sara and I first met, she could not take a cock very far down her throat. Having never wanted to deep throat anyone in her past, she never practiced.

But as she became more and more empowered through dominating me, she became obsessed with being able to take me all the way down, wrapping her lips around the very root of my penis. She says that the feeling of power she gets when she has every inch of my manhood in her mouth, is intoxicating.

At six-and-a-half inches in length, my cock is slightly above average, but she is now capable of completely swallowing it with no triggering of her gag reflex at all.

She is a master.

- - Again, tapping into her extraordinary patience, she lingers. Only occasionally backing off slightly to take a breath through her nose, she allows my cock to bask in the feeling of being balls deep in her beautiful mouth, my cockhead pulsating against the back of her throat, the shaft slightly bent downward following the curvature of her larynx as it pushes partway down towards her esophagus.

After a time, she slowly begins to lift her head, the swollen glans feeling every detail of the inside of her mouth as it inches its way out, her tongue sliding against the underside of my head, stimulating my frenulum, the roof of her mouth stimulating the top.

Just as it is about to slip from between her lips, she pauses for a few seconds, and then starts the slow, slippery journey back down, gradually engulfing my full length once again, my head reclaiming its place in the back of her throat.

She continues this agonizingly slow deepthroat-blowjob, nudging me by microscopic increments towards that all-too-familiar place of the edge of orgasm. As I once again reach that wonderful and terrible point of no-return, she maddeningly ends the blowjob, as I knew she would.

Sara lifts her head from my cock, looks at me dead in the eyes, and with a seriousness I have yet to see this night, whispers, "I think you're ready".

Fear once again knots my stomach. Ready for what?

- - The next technique she applies is without a doubt the most excruciatingly "painful" in her arsenal, at least when it comes to my cock. It is sheer torture. It is not "painful" in the usual sense of the word, but it does not feel good, in any sense of THAT word.

The feelings are far too intense to be able to say it feels good.

She wraps her small hand around my shaft just below the engorged ridge of my glans, leaving only the purple bulb of my head exposed, protruding from her fist.

She squeezes firmly, and the extra pressure around my shaft forces more blood into the head causing it to become even more bloated and full, stretching the thin skin even tighter over the swollen bulb of my glans.

Making her other hand flat and stiff, she places her palm against my now hyper-engorged head and pressing down firmly, she begins to slide it in slow circles.

More than any other teasing and denial technique Sara uses, this one is, without a doubt, the most agonizingly frustrating. It is completely the wrong type of stimulation to make me cum, but it excruciatingly over stimulates the nerve endings in the head of my dick.

This sensory overload causes my nervous system to short circuit, and I literally lose control of my motor functions.

By varying the speed and pressure of her circling hand, she keeps me in a constant struggle against insanity. I begin to experience violent and uncontrolled muscle spasms and contractions throughout my body. Fighting desperately to get free of my bonds so I can finally end this unrelenting attack on my cockhead, is fruitless. I am trapped.

The sensations are so intense, I honestly believe that persistent stimulation of this type could cause me to lose my mind. Sara is merciless and unappeasable in her assault on my tortured head. She pushes me, and pushes me, and pushes me, the palm of her flattened hand pressing down harder on the head, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, while her other hand keeps my cock trapped in a prison of torture that it is unable to escape.

The sensations are excruciating. I want to beg her to stop, but I can't form the words, my body convulsing uncontrollably.

Even if I could beg, I know she wouldn't listen, and it would most likely make it worse. She loves it when I beg for mercy. It is her signal to increase the intensity of what she is doing, knowing that it is having the desired effect, so I try hard not to. It doesn't matter anyway because I am beyond words, beyond rational thought, existing in a world of agonizing hyper stimulation.

Waves of electrical nerve impulses blast from the head of my cock, down my shaft, up through my torso, and out into my extremities. I begin wildly fighting against the heavy leather that binds me - trying anything I can to escape this relentless onslaught of painful genital torture. Nothing works.

I am losing it.

For over 3 hours she has had me in this place. Over three hours of taking me to the edge of orgasm over, and over, and over again with only a slight easing off when she knew that continuing would cause me to cum.

But the new level of stimulation that her palm is now inflicting on my poor cockhead is all consuming and overwhelming. It is impossible to explain the psychological effects of this long, relentless torture.

She just won't stop.

Minutes pass. 5 minutes... 8 minutes... 10 minutes... 12 minutes... On and on and on. Vicious and unyielding.

I can feel my consciousness being sucked into the head of my cock - my whole being absorbed completely into that bloated bulb of excruciatingly sensitive flesh. I can think of nothing else.

Sara intuitively knows that this ruthless torture will reach down into the very core of my being and break every last stronghold of resistance. It will grab hold of barriers and walls that I fight hard to maintain and drag them, kicking and screaming to the surface.

So, she continues her perverse torture, on and on, slowly but surely, breaking me.

As her continued onslaught comes to a final, rising crescendo of torture, an involuntary scream of pain and frustration rips past my lips, and I can do nothing to stop it. Sara is tearing this scream from the deepest part of my soul through the conduit of the nerve endings in the head of my cock.

- - In my day-to-day life I have an executive level, high-stress, high responsibility job, with many people and projects to oversee and manage. I strive, as I must, to control my environment, and my emotions. I always have to be concerned about how I appear and am perceived by others. I have to be a leader. An alpha male in control of my domain. It's the only way I can successfully do my job.

But for the past three and a half hours Sara has had absolute authority, power, and control over me. And now, with this new onslaught of sadistic torture, I have lost control over two of my most basic human functions - my voice, and my motor skills.

Every muscle in my body is twitching in spasmodic unison with the rhythm of her constantly circling hand. My voice is forced to make sounds beyond my capacity to stop or control.

Being completely and totally controlled and overpowered by her, sets me free from myself. It sets me free from that prison of my own making that is my view of the world and my view of myself. It sets me free from the prison of expected thought and behavior placed on me by the outside world of business, society, and the stresses and responsibilities of life.

In this place, I am safe. Sara has made it safe for me to let go. To let go of everything, with no concern of what anyone thinks, or how I may look. In the midst of my suffering, I am free.

With a final powerful emotional release of total frustration and despair, I begin to weep, overwhelmed by this place that she has so lovingly guided me into. Through this process she has reached deep inside of me, touched me, exposed me, broken me, and released me from myself.

And then it happens... with tears of complete despair and frustration streaming down my cheeks, I look down into Sara's eyes as she looks up into mine, and I beg, the words choking out between sobs. "I can't take anymore... It's too intense... Please stop... Please stop doing this to me... It's too much... Please Sara... just make me cum... I can't do this anymore... Please, Sara... please... just make me cum..."

I am broken. She sees that it's not that I don't WANT anymore, as it has been to this point, it is that I CAN'T TAKE anymore. I have nothing left. I am shattered mentally and physically. And she knows it's time.

She finally, mercifully, stops.

She immediately once again wraps her hand around my aching balls, pulling them back down into the bottom of their sack. Without causing pain, she reasserts her dominant position of control and authority over my manhood, my body, and my mind.

In sharp contrast to the intense flat-handed rubbing she had just been subjecting me to a few seconds before, she wraps her hand around my cock with a perfect grip and begins long, slow, firm strokes. It feels so... perfect, so fulfilling, so powerfully explosive, that I can hardly believe it's happening, and I know, this time, she is going to make me cum.

It is exactly what my body has been begging for, for four weeks and three and a half hours. With tears continuing to flow, my heart and emotions completely open and vulnerable, I feel free and whole for the first time in a very long time. She is loving and efficient in her actions, in no hurry, and totally connected to the rhythms and needs of my body. We have become truly one.

She begins fucking my cock with her hand with long, steady strokes, slightly increasing the speed with each up and down motion. The timing of her movements is perfectly in synch with my need. Her grip, faultless. Her pumping, steady and consistent, as my orgasm rapidly approaches.

She feels the length, thickness, hardness, and curvature of my shaft increasing as I get closer and closer, and she squeezes slightly tighter with her sliding fist in response. She can feel the size and hardness of my engorged head also increasing as the friction of her pumping hand continues to take me higher and higher.

She feels my balls trying desperately to pull closer to my body, like cocking the trigger of a loaded gun before firing, the final sign of my impending orgasm.

Then, just as every muscle and fiber in my body tenses to the point of breaking, and I know she is finally going to give me the release I need, she releases her grip on my cock and balls allowing them to flop down unceremoniously, and softly says "I think I'll wait til next weekend to make you cum".

My heart drops into my stomach. Fear grips me like it never has before in my life. My mind swirls into agonizing despair as I look down into her smiling face, and I begin to scream "OH MY GOD!!! NO! NO! NO! NO! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME!!!! PLEASE! PLEASE! OH GOD NO!!! I CAN'T DO IT!!!! PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON ME SARA!!! PLEASE SARA!!!! I'M BEGGING YOU ... I'm begging you... please... have mercy... have mercy... please don't do this to me......".

After a long time of almost unintelligible begging, my voice trails off, the tears flowing uncontrollably as I plunge back down into an abyss of despair, misery, and finally, after minutes pass with no response to my begging from Sara, resignation.

I am devastated. Destroyed. Ruined.

During my pathetic begging, Sara had her eyes closed, her angelic face turned towards the ceiling. Listening to me plead, she basked in the flood of power she was receiving from my anguish as it washed over her, feeding her lust for power.

I am finally quiet, resigned to my fate, knowing my life for the next week is going to be a living hell.

Sara slowly opens her eyes, looking a bit disoriented, as if coming out of a dream.

As focus comes back to her eyes, she looks at me, smiles widely, and whispers, "I'm just fucking with you. I'm about to give you the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life."

"YES!!!!!!!!!" I skyrocket immediately from devastation to ecstasy, which is exactly her intention - to fuck with my mind and completely assert her dominance over me, one last time.

And so... she begins again.

Chapter 17

- - In contrast to the aggressive stroking she had just been giving me, she gently takes my cock and balls into her hands, and starting slowly, begins with soft, gentle strokes, and gentle tugging on my balls.

I immediately once again begin the slow march back up to the edge of orgasm.

She continues, slowly, and torturously, inching me by tiny increments closer and closer to that point of no return. Each time I get close to going over the edge, she slows and softens her strokes, extending the teasing as long as possible, watching, listening, sensing, as my frustration and need grows, once again.

And then, I am right there... balanced on a knife's edge between the torture of denial and the ecstasy of orgasm.

Finally, after weeks of torture and sexual frustration, and hours of merciless denial, she gives me what my body has been begging for.

Sara, knowing it's time, releases my balls, slightly tightens her grip on my cock, and starts a steady rhythm, pumping me with perfect strokes.

With a long soulful scream, and the uncontrolled tensing of every fiber in my body, my cock finally plunges over the edge of the point of no return, a biological symphony of cock, balls, and prostate, working together to begin an earth-shattering orgasm.

My cock projects its first powerful, thick stream of cum high into the air.

It arches over my body and comes down on the pillow next to my ear, the viscous liquid making an audible splat, immediately followed by a second spurt, landing in the same place.

As she continues her wonderful slippery strokes, several more thick ropes of semen erupt from the hole of my cock, this time splashing down on my chest.

My body continues to convulse and spasm, every muscle tense and straining as she continues pumping and pumping.

Then come several more spurts that land on my stomach. Then another and another and another - more jets that fill my belly button, cover my pubic bone, then her fingers and hand, adding additional lubrication to her sliding fist.

Spurt after spurt of this beautiful elixir of life that has been building in my body for weeks flows freely from the very center of my physical, sexual, and emotional being.

It is a long, long, satisfying orgasm, her loving hands coaxing every last drop of cum from my body.

And finally, it's over.

She releases my now drained member and moves her hands down to my ball sack and begins lovingly and gently massaging them, helping them to finally relax and rest.

I am spent. Released. Complete.

Sara was true to her word. It was the most mind-blowing orgasm I had ever experienced.

Chapter 18

- - The intense teasing of the past weeks and hours had prepared my testicles and prostate for that moment, causing the outpouring of semen and pleasure from deep within the core of my being to be hundreds of times more powerful and intense than it would normally be.

She had given me so much more than just sexual release. Each eruption of semen from my body took with it fears and insecurities, pain from past failures and embarrassments, and tension from the worries and concerns of my life.

It was an eruption of all that was within me, released by all that was within her.

She had taken for herself so much more than just my cum. As she later related it to me, she had never felt so completely in control and powerful in her life. The tidal wave of chemicals that bathed her brain as she subjected my genitals to crippling punishment, and my mind to debilitating mental and emotional torment, was almost overwhelming for her.

She was in a constant state of heightened sexual arousal as she was helplessly overcome by the power flowing into her mind and body. She was dripping from her pussy the entire three hours and thirty-eight minutes of my torture, leaving wet spots on the bed everywhere she sat.

She said that there were many times when it took all the will power she had not to climb on top of me, impale herself on my cock, and violently fuck me until I came deep inside her. The only reason she didn't was because she knew that would end it, and like a junkie, she never wanted the high to end.

Chapter 19

- - After a short time, she leaves her place between my legs and once again snuggles in next to me, nuzzling and kissing my neck, allowing my cum to flow freely down my sides and onto the sheets as it starts to thin.

Sara has always loved my cum. She sees it as the essence of the life that is in me. She always swallows when she gives me a blowjob, and enjoys the feeling of slippery cum on flesh, both hers and mine.

She slides her hand down my body and begins rubbing my cum into my skin in slow circles, enjoying the slippery sensation.

Feeling her hand softly caressing my chest and stomach helps me continue to calm down, my heart rate finally slowing, my mind coming back to itself, and my focus now back on my beautiful, loving wife, instead of my cock.

It's astounding how different everything looks following an orgasm after weeks of being teased and denied. It's like falling asleep in one world, and waking up in another.

As we lay intertwined, basking in the glow of the intense physical and spiritual experience we had just shared, she says " this was a perfect night, but I do have one small regret".

"What's that", I ask.

"I didn't get to beat your balls.", and then she promised with a smile, "Next time for sure".

Epilogue

- - It's hard to believe that a sexual experience can have such a profound effect, but since that night, our lives have been different.

It has now been 3 months since that amazing night, and since then, our happiness and satisfaction with our relationship has been at an all-time high. We feel closer, more in love, and more connected than we ever have before.