Public Exposure

He ran his fingers through her sweaty, messy hair, listening to the constant whimpering beneath him. She couldn't help it, he knew that, unable to control herself while she was teased, edged, and denied. All evening she moaned into her gag, a pleading expression thrown up at him, a silent begging for the release she so desperately craved. But he knew better, knew what she truly wanted, what she truly needed, what made her happy.

Once more he turned the vibrator to low, watching as she squirmed in protest, a tiny tantrum thrown in bondage, glaring up at him. He smiled, simply waiting, replacing the vibrator with his fingers, running through her needy, wet, and aching pussy. Watching those big, angry eyes of hers, he slowly rubbed, fingers glistening with the denial she craved to be freed from. Her anger, protests, and complaints subsided, replaced once more with those large, pleading, submissive eyes. Once more brought back to being his good girl, unable to help herself fall into the role she desired more than any.

The collar around her neck, a beautiful light pink, silver metal heart at its center, was the reason he knew how to control her. The limitations he could push her to, the brink of a breaking point they'd never cross. Ruthless within those parameters, he kept her right where she wanted to be, in the headspace she craved, that she fought to be free from. Freed from the nagging notion that this time, surely this time, she would be allowed to cum. A dangerous hope, always left just out of arm's reach, a tantalising impossibility.

Legs spread wide, exposed for his amusement and enjoyment, coming to the realisation that she had so many times before. That she could stop him at any moment, halt their dynamic with a shake of her head, or one simple word. That she could demand to be freed, forcing the release from her body that she so desperately craved and desired. Yet, as she whimpered up at him, big eyes unable to comprehend her own frustration, once more that terrifying realisation washed over her.

She wanted his control...more than she wanted to cum.

It was a simple truth, really, one he had discovered far earlier than her. Seeing the look in her eyes, the inner turmoil she dealt with as he played and teased his new toy. Seeing the tension in her movements, hands always rubbing together in anticipation, drawn to the pulsing need she felt between her legs. But the desire to submit, to serve, to be his good girl, always winning in the end. Night after night he watched her leave his company, his embrace, each step out of his door harder than the last, knowing she once more left behind her chance to orgasm.

After a year together she had broken down, crying in his arms, admitting that she could no longer make herself cum. Futile nights of playing with herself led to more frustration, as her mind and pussy blocked her from what she sought. Needing his touch, his control, his binds, his deep voice as he talked her through what he would do to her. He simply held her, praising how far she'd come, what a perfect toy she turned out to be.

He stared into those big, beautiful, submissive eyes, seeing the change wash over his good girl. The acceptance once more of a decision that was no longer hers, a choice given to another: Him. Master. Leaning down, he gently brushed her lips with his, listening to the tiny moans emitted from their tender kiss. Stretched around the red ball, straps across her face ensuring it remained in place, he brushed them with his thumb, coated with the dripping saliva from her opened mouth. One of his favourite views of his good girl.

Arms and chest wrapped in rope, he freed her legs as she sighed, massaging life back into them. Carried in his arms, he laid her against his chest on the bed, softly kissing her neck as his fingers explored her exposed nipples. She moaned, sinking into him, head leaning back as he played, pinching and rolling. Always enjoying the effect this had on her, knowing they were almost as sensitive as her aching pussy.

Almost...

A constant stream of noises emitted from his toy, watching as she squirmed against him. Slowly he brought one hand up to hold her hair, firmly keeping her in place, while the other made its way once more to run up and down the glistening wet pussy below. Her pleading returned, not quite as desperately as before, the fight stolen from her this night. But it remained, a subtle protest, the tiniest glimmer of hope, unable to help herself thinking this time...this time just maybe...this time will be different.

He smiled, using this tiny sliver of hope against her, like a leash connected to that beautiful collar she wore for him, pulled in any direction he chose. His finger circled on her clit, coating it in her own desperation, a constant leaking pussy that offered no shortage of lubricant. He listened carefully as her breath quieted, her mind holding her captive, only allowing air in short, excited bursts. All the signs he had witnessed in his time of controlling her, owning her, using her. The telltale signs he used to pull her as close to the edge as he dared, left lingering on the precipice of an orgasm.

Her nipples hardened further, chest blushing slightly, pussy pulsing and quivering as he circled, never faltering in speed or pressure. With just a touch more pressure, or a slight increase of speed, she would without a doubt cum in his arms, straining against the rope, legs shaking wildly as she finally rode through the release that had been teased from her for over a year. One sudden movement, and she would be freed from her torment, mind exploding in euphoric ecstasy. One...little...touch...

But it never came. He knew it wouldn't. She knew it wouldn't. Yet the lie that it might continued between them, the hinted promise that someday, someday she would feel that release once more. Someday she would cry in his arms, cumming her little heart out against his fingers, or on his cock. Someday.

But not today.

He stared down at her, drinking in the frustration in those beautiful eyes, the energy radiating off her body. They sat in silence together, holding her in his arms, watching at the battle surging inside of her, the war he had created and maintained. Slowly he removed her gag, once more gently kissing those lips, jaw sore from being opened for so long. She moaned into his mouth, her mind still trapped in the eagerness to cum, tormented by that longing, desperate hope.

But she remained in that mindset as he untied her, as he washed her sweaty and aching body in the shower, running a sponge up and down them both. Still in a daze, she sat still while he dried her off, combing her hair to sit comfortably on her shoulders, blow dried to be held back by a white strip of cloth, turned into a beautiful bow by his skilled hands. He smiled at her in the mirror, planting one tiny, tender kiss on her neck, flaring up once more the need she had hoped was squandered for the evening.

Following, she stepped into the white dress offered to her, incredibly thin straps holding it against her. No bra, no panties, no covering except the cotton fabric she now felt loosely clinging to her naked frame. Leaving her by the mirror to admire the outfit chosen for her, he dressed himself, watching as she ran her hands over the hem of her dress, legs pressed together.

Returning, staring at her through the mirror, he removed the pink collar she wore, now clashing with her new outfit. In its stead went a white choker, latticed and thin, hugging her slender neck perfectly. She blushed, fingers tracing over it after he placed it on her, once more marked as his. Stepping into some strappy heeled sandals, she followed him downstairs, her body betraying with each step her own growing excitement.

He held a hand on the small of her back, feeling the trepidation building inside of her, the cool evening air moving around them both as he opened the door. She looked back at him, those eyes filled with excitement and fear, receiving a warm smile and nod, giving her the confidence and push she needed to walk out of the door. With a final tiny, adorable whimper, she held onto his arm desperately as they left the comfort of his home, strolling down the street towards people. Towards life.

He felt her grip tighten around his arm as they walked, offering the occasional comforting pat to her hand, distracting her slightly with conversation. But he knew her mind would be gripped by the aching returned to her pussy, the need inside of her flaring up once more, feeling as if she was out on display. Most gave her nothing more than a passing glance, nothing obvious about her outfit, the folded fabric around her breasts hiding her hardened, erected, and excited nipples.

But to her...each step, legs rubbing together, feeling more exposed than she had ever before. He smirked watching the effect their little walk was having on her, ensuring it was a healthy mix of excitement and fear on her face. As they made it to the end of the busy street, he even saw a slight smile make it to her face, blushing with embarrassment. He laughed, giving her butt a quick, teasing squeeze, turning them to the woods.

They made their way up a hill, the same street they had just traversed lit up in the darkened sky. Alone, yet so close to civilisation, to exposure, an eerie silence letting the noises below drift up to greet them in their solitude. He left her staring at the bit of the city they lived in, shaking with excitement as he kissed her neck, hands slowly moving down to raise her dress bit by bit.

Bunched up in one hand, he moved the other slowly over each ass cheek, squeezing and rubbing as he listened to her terrified little whimpers. She didn't dare move or speak, trying to contain her own voice, in fear that she would give them away with a moan. He danced fingers around her body, only avoiding one specific spot, a spot he knew would be absolutely begging to be touched. Not yet.

Turning her around, a finger underneath her chin, he kissed his toy deeply, moaning into his mouth. Over and over he kissed her, as if he was transferring the tension out of her body into his. After pulling away, slightly out of breath, she looked up at him with those big eyes once more, ready for his next challenge. His demand. With a push on her shoulders, she whimpered as she slowly sank down, squatting in her heels before him.

The worry in her eyes diminished but not conquered, she slowly rubbed his cock through his pants, never looking away from his calming stare. He sighed, running hands through her hair, simultaneously soothing and firm, often gripping just for a moment, listening to the tiny moans it forced out of her. Eventually she worked up more courage, carefully pulling out his growing cock through the open zipper, exposed to the cooling evening air.

Kissing each ball, she placed a shaking hand on his cock to stroke, falling into the act she both knew and loved. She ran her tongue up and down him, until he groaned, fingers firmly entrenched in her hair, cock now glistening in the pale moonlight provided to them. Her mouth open, staring up at him expectantly, he guided his cock into her warm, waiting mouth, watching it disappear all the way in, tickling the back of her throat.

Eyes watering with effort, he pulled out to allow her to breathe, sucking air in around his cock. Once more he pushed in deep inside of her, the countless hours of training taking hold as she moaned, fighting off the urge to gag. Back and forth they went, seeing those beautiful eyes tear up, pushing her further each time. Finally, he relented, pulling her off his cock as she gasped for breath, a giggling smile spreading over her face.

Lifted up, he kissed her deeply once more in appreciation, before turning his toy around to place hands on a nearby tree. Her white dress, a veiled protection hiding her aching pussy, was lifted above her waist, biting her lip as she squealed, his fingers plunging inside of her. Two inserted, with his thumb circling her clit, he watched as she struggled to stay standing, already being betrayed by the excitement coursing through her body.

Clit and g-spot simultaneously rubbed, she gripped the tree for support, no longer caring about being seen. No longer worried about the dress blowing up and exposing her sensitive, aching pussy. Her mind could only focus on his fingers, and her own working to hold herself upright. He watched her struggle, listened as those cute little moans became louder, pulling out his fingers to gently tap at the outside of her wet, ready pussy.

Gripping her tiny waist firmly in his hands, he effortlessly pushed his cock inside of her, listening as her breath caught, legs tense before him. Slowly thrusting, she began to squirm, unable to control the desperate energy he had accumulated inside of her all evening. But he happily held her still, fucking his needy little toy how he saw fit, watching as she struggled to remain upright. She wasn't the only one who's need had been nurtured, building up through the evening.

Growling, he fucked her, feeling her tight, wet, aching pussy gripping his cock. Held firm against him, her squirming not getting her anywhere, she whimpered as he fucked her, each thrust threatening to make her scream. Once more he knew a simple touch on her clit would send her over the edge, his cock alone would never be enough to make her cum. But his hands never left her hips, gripping tighter as he felt his orgasm building.

Using her denied pussy, knowing the exposure she felt in such a simple, flimsy dress, he flaunted the one thing constantly tearing at her mind. With a stifled groan, feeling her shaking ass against his groin, he pushed deep inside of her, releasing spurts of cum into his toy while she squealed, biting her arm to keep quiet. Cock pulsing, his entire body tense, he groaned as she was filled, the climax of their evening an unfair, delicious juxtaposition.

He pumped his orgasm inside of her, the only orgasm she would be a part of that evening, once more listening to him cum using her denied, aching, desperate body. Shuddering through his final few thrusts, he pulled out slowly from her, watching as cum followed suit, dripping out of her well-fucked hole. Admiring the view, he gripped her ass cheeks apart, spreading her pussy wide to see even more fall away, bred deeply inside of her.

Through it all she whimpered, feeling her clit throbbing with a desperate need to be touched. As if one gentle rub would send her over the edge, finally able to join him in a release, wanting to cum with her Master. But she was left on the verge of tears as he pulled down her dress, gently taking her off the tree into his arms, the fury and fire surging in her eyes making him smile. He kissed her, hand wrapped around her throat, knowing once more the battle inside of her to be his good girl surged onward.

The walk home she was furious, angry, wanting to scream and hit him as they walked arm in arm. She could think of nothing but the pulsing between her legs, his cum slowly dripping down her exposed legs, the thought of being filled with his orgasm while denied her own enraging her to no end.

Back in his hallway, the door to the outside world closed once more, he stared down at his toy, his good girl, knowing the difficulty she faced, watching her struggle internally. Those eyes surged with emotion and energy staring up at him, her body tense in his arms as he placed a finger under her chin, a tangible silence between them.

But he simply held still, watching her fight this battle, as it was her battle to fight. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, those eyes softened, her rage subsiding, replaced once more with that simple realisation of truth. The truth that allowed a deep level of trust between them. The truth that had her coming back time after time to his embrace and control. The truth that had her moments later naked once more at his feet, pink collar returned to her throat.

Feeling his hands running through her hair, picked up in his arms, she stared into his eyes. He watched her return to him, once more overcoming that emotion coursing through her, so proud of how strong and resilient she was. Still shaking with the effort of her own denial, she planted the tiniest of kisses on his lips, releasing a whisper so faint he almost thought it was simply his imagination.

Thank you, Master.

Once more she went to bed in his arms, squirming as the pulsing in her clit refused to relent.

Once more she fell asleep whimpering in frustration, a smile spread across her face.

Once more she knew the fleeting hope she felt to cum was futile.

Once more she dared to hope anyway, sighing happily in her blissful ignorance.

Once more he felt her drift off to sleep in his arms, knowing he had found the perfect toy...one which would constantly seek a release he'd never grant.