On Edge

The grip on my braid relaxes. Your ragged breathing slowly subsides. Pulling my face away, strands of your arousal connect me to your dripping sex. I look into your eyes waiting like an eager puppy, hoping you throw me a bone.

"You're such a good little fucktoy. Don't worry, I'll give you your treat." You rebutton your jeans while gently stroking my hair.

Toilets flush. Footsteps pass by. Sinks splash water over the acrylic countertops, but we are in our own little world. None of the risk matters anymore. All that matters is cumming.

Obediently on my knees, I watch while you slide your mask over your chin. Your crimson lips tease me with a wry smile. My eyebrows raise when you grab one of the chocolate bars off the counter, unwrapping the foil and taking a bite. Soft caramel trails out from where you bit down.

"Do you like chocolate?" you ask smugly, dragging out each bite, slowly chewing, tempting me with its rich, alluring aroma.

"Yes, Miss."

"Hmm... Maybe I can share, or maybe I won't. I know how desperate you are to cum. Maybe I should make you wait until I finish my snack."

This isn't how I expected this to go. You're cruel in the worst way. Frustration balls up in my stomach, but all I can do is beg for release. By this point, I'm whimpering.

"No, please. I did everything. I need to cum."

"Didn't I already tell you? Nasty little cum sluts don't get to choose where or how they cum. I do."

Fuck. I'm completely at your mercy.

The unfinished chocolate bar dangles from your mouth while you grab another one, peeling off the wrapper. Taking the half-eaten one out from between your lips, you make sure to give it a lick up and down its cylindrical form. Saliva pools in my mouth, the sweet smell irresistible.

"Show me how you use your fuck-lips, then I'll fuck your fuck-hole."

The melty chocolate bar covered in a trail of spit, caramel dripping down its shaft, now sits directly in front of my drooling mouth. Of course, my mouth isn't the only place that's drooling, wet and a complete mess.

Greedily, I take the chocolate bar between my lush lips, caramel and all. It tastes a little like you. I can't help but moan while sucking up and down the sugary shaft. Scents of desire flood over my eager tongue. Melting chocolate seeps out the creases of my mouth, mixing with your dried up cum from earlier. You continue unwrapping the remaining chocolate bars one by one with your available hand all the while gazing lovingly (or should I say lustfully) at your desperately edged-out fucktoy.

"Good girl." You let go of the now partially dissolved chocolate bar, leaving it rammed in my mouth. "I'm going to make you cum, but you're such a noisy little cum slut. I think we should keep the chocolate bar where it is. You look good with your mouth stuffed."

Easier said than done. My body heat slowly tempers the chocolate, mixing with drool that trickles down my chin, over my mask and onto my sweater. Soon, only the caramel core will remain. The sugar parches my throat, but it also makes me salivate. I do my best not to swallow the chocolate bar whole.

"Sit on the toilet, but keep the stockings on. I don't want my little fucktoy running away when I'm finally about to play with her."

I try to let out a 'Yes, Miss,' but only muffled gargles and a constant stream of liquid chocolate and spittle dribbles down my face. Without pulling my stockings up, I lift my plaid skirt and sit bare-bottomed over the toilet, legs still firmly bound together with the elastic of my stockings. You look a little too happy about my predicament.

Grinning, you take the remaining four bars of chocolate, grasping them in your right hand. To be honest, I'm a little worried and a little scared. Even with the makeshift chocolate gag, there's no way I'll be able to keep quiet when you decide to ravage me like the fucking whore I am. Even if by some miracle I manage to not let out even the smallest gasp when you finally touch me, the bell on my collar and the squelching that will inevitably leave my needy, achy cunt will draw attention... if it hasn't already.

"I don't think you deserve me touching you. That would be too good for a filthy toilet-slut so desperate she will do anything to cum in a public bathroom. No..." You pause, the edges of your lips curl up. I can only imagine what depraved thoughts are running through your head, and to think I agreed to this. You're the reason parents warn their children about talking to strangers. I should have never talked to you at the bar, never accepted your invitation into your cold black heart and (most importantly) never let you work your way into my needy cunt. Now I'm addicted, and I can't stop.

"... No. I think these snacks you bought for me will suffice. I bet your pussy will eat them up like it ate up my fist last Sunday. Now lift your legs, fucktoy. Show me that needy fuck-hole."

Reluctantly, I raise my legs. Underneath my wool sweater, my swollen nipples rub against the itchy fabric while I shift my position. By this point, the melted chocolate and gooey caramel glues my mouth firmly shut.

With your left hand, you push my hobbled legs further up, pressing my knees against my chest. My upper body drives further back into the counter.

"Hold your legs up. Show me how much of a filthy cum slut you are," you command. Your voice low enough to only be heard by me, but each word travels through my edged-out mind, making my clit throb painfully. I wrap my arms under my thighs, giving you easy access to the only parts that matter, my holes that are yours to use however you please.

You appraise me again, watching my need drip into the toilet bowl in long viscous strands. Rubbing one of the chocolate bars over my slit, I feel jolts of electricity pace through my clit. My body flinches on contact, making my bell tinkle. I swear I hear someone stop outside to listen.

You don't mess around. Sliding the first bar into my needy cunt, you thrust it back and forth. Before I can sink into euphoria, you pull it out, leaving me empty. Streaks of melted chocolate stick to the outside of my mons.

My eyes plead with you from my chocolate caramel-covered face not to stop. After all you put me through, I think I deserve release.

"My needy little cum slut wants more?" You mock. "Maybe she will get it after we use all her holes--a three-hole fucktoy for her Miss."

Humiliation burns through my face like an open flame, my breath choppy as I inhale the combined smells of cunt and chocolate through my nose.

You reposition the slightly melted, cum-covered chocolate bar at the entrance of my puckered star. I instinctively clench, but the combination of cum and the high cocoa butter content of the chocolate confection lubes up my tight asshole. A guttural moan escapes my throat as you shove it in inch by inch, leaving only enough of a nub sticking out to angle it around the inside of my rectum. You know I don't cum from anal. By this point, the tease is tortuous.

My arms and legs ache from their uncomfortable position. You don't need rope to truss me up. Your powerful demeanor is enough to hold me captive. I love being your fucktoy, especially when you torture and degrade me like this.

"Does my greedy little cum slut need to cum?"

I nod my head vigorously. The twinkle in your eyes lets me know that as cruel as you are, you want to please me too.

"Let's see how greedy your pussy really is."

I do my best to lift my legs higher, offering up my cunt to be used. The chocolate up my ass melts into a gooey mess. Only the sticky caramel keeps it all inside. God, I'm such a filthy, disgusting orgasm-deprived whore.

Smiling triumphantly, you slide one bar up my cunt, letting it gather my juices. The outer shell begins perspiring from my internal body heat. Then you grab the second bar while twisting the first one around, stretching my squelchy fuck-hole. You make room for number two. It's a tight fit. From my caramel-sealed lips, a muffled scream struggles to escape as you force my velvety walls to stretch to accept its new occupant.

"You're such a glut. You should see yourself right now with all your fuck-holes covered in chocolate and cum. I think it suits my greedy rule-breaking fucktoy well that she's taking her punishment on a toilet that reeks of piss and pussy."

Your insults scrape down my body like nails, leaving bright red marks on my flushed face, but a rush of arousal pumps through the rest of my body with each harsh word. I love how you degrade me. It makes me so fucking hot. I don't even care to think how I'm going to clean up after this.

Teasing me with the final chocolate bar, you rub its tip over my aching clit, making me twitch. You use your other hand to jam the other two sugary shafts further up my cunt. My head jerks back and my collar jangles loudly as I try not to rip off the caramel and chocolate sealing my lips and scream at the top of my lungs.

Without the reward of your soft skin against mine, I'm reduced to getting fucked by the very snacks I bought in my edged-out, fogged-out mental state. I should have thought out my purchases better. If I knew this is what you had planned for your little plaything, then I would have bought cucumbers instead.

The two bars up my cunt twist and meld together while you screw them inside me, rubbing against the gloopy remains of the caramelly chocolate you shoved up my ass earlier. You stop rubbing my clit, teasing my already full pussy with the third bar. I don't think it will fit, but I also said the same thing about your fist last Sunday. I might be a size queen.

Breathing sharply through my nostrils, I can only watch as you slowly force the third bar up my used-up cunt, stretching it grotesquely. Fuck. Moaning, no longer caring about being heard, I feel the candy press against nerve endings that I didn't even know existed.

"Such a greedy, filthy cum slut." I can sense you getting worked up over my humiliation. Your dilated pupils can barely hide your unrestrained lust, your breath panting like an eager dog.

Thrusting in and out, using me, forcing me to hold my stockinged-hobbled legs up as high as I can, you take me there. You take me to the cusp. Chocolate and cum drip out of my holes like a depraved fondue fountain of perversion as you finally push me over the edge in an orgasmic free-fall.

Convulsing, my bell rings out to the world that I'm cumming harder than I've ever cum before. After days of edging, after days of being in a constant state of arousal, I crack, melting into the toilet seat like the chocolate melting out my raw cunt.

"You're such a fucking cum slut." This time your words comfort me like a soft downy blanket while you remove the gooey confections from my cunt and ass, or at least what's left of them.

Tossing them away in the small trashcan usually reserved for pads and tampons in the far corner of the stall, you cover the evidence of our tryst with balled-up toilet paper. You help me drop my legs down gently over the toilet seat. Still coming down from the high, I feel like I might collapse on the tile floor. You are better than drugs, more addicting than heroin. I know I'll be back for another hit of Miss sooner than later.

Grinning at me from ear to ear, you stroke my hair gently, brushing your fingertips delicately over my earlobe. You grab another wafer cookie from the open package and slide it into my chocolatey mouth.

"Hold still for me." Giggling, you rummage through your purse, pulling out a 35mm rangefinder camera. Old school, I think, but there's something special about the black and silver surrounding the lens-- sleek and suave. Holding up the viewfinder to your eye, my reflection greets me in the glass. Sticky caramel, chocolate, cum and drool streak my abused face, the rectangular wafer sticking out of my coated lips like a cigar.

Click

You capture my essence on film for your ever-growing private collection. I smile, knowing you will masturbate while reliving our play when you develop it.

"You are the perfect fucktoy."

I eat the wafer before replying, "And you are the perfect Miss."

"See you next Sunday?"

My messy grin smiles up at you. "Let's make it a date."