Secret Masochist - Education Ch. 20

(All characters in this story are eighteen years of age, or older)

Chapter 20

Giving you what (you think) you want

Kneeling at Mr. Peterson's feet, face inches from his hard cock, your mind is focused on one thing. I need to prove myself to him. I need to learn his lessons. I need to show him how far I've come.

Come.

I need to come.

The sharp ache in your pussy dominates your thoughts. You feel like you're going crazy with how much you need to get off. It's not like you've never gone without an orgasm for this long before, but you've never had to endure something quite like this. Everything you've done today -- everything Mr. Peterson has made you do -- has just turned you on even more. That voice inside that tried to push back against your submission is silent now. All that's left is a determination to do whatever he tells you, no matter what. You need that orgasm.

That's all that matters. I can't take this any longer. I just need to get off, I don't care about being... ordered around.

"Stand for me, Miss Murray."

"Yes, Mr. Peterson." As if mocking your inner voice, your body thrills at being given a command, and you practically jump to your feet. Trying to demonstrate that you have at least some discipline, you keep your eyes fixed on your teacher's face. Not looking at his cock, still hard and hot in his lap, is one of the most difficult things you've done all weekend.

"You have properly atoned for your failure this morning, Miss Murray."

Relief floods through you. "Thank you, Mr. Peterson."

He reaches under his chair and pulls out a small box. "As a reward, I shall give you the vibrator I promised for your good behavior." He removes a small, flat object from the box. "Lift your skirt for me, Miss Murray."

"Y-yes, Mr. Peterson." It feels silly, since the skirt is sheer and doesn't cover much anyways, but you do as you're told. You gasp as you feel him push the small vibrator into the pocket at the front of your crotchless panties. It rests just above your clit, not quite close enough to provide direct stimulation.

"Who owns your body, Miss Murray?"

Your ass clenches around the plug. "You do, Mr. Peterson."

He smiles at you. "Then it is my responsibility to take care of it. Those clamps have been on your nipples for quite some time. It is important they have a chance to recover." He reaches up and removes both clamps. The chain clinks softly as he places them to the side.

You feel a little disappointed at having them removed, but also a deep and surprising gratitude that he would be so mindful of your well-being. "Thank you, Mr. P-ah!" Your nipples start to swell and ache with surprising intensity. The pain is somehow worse than when the clamps were on.

Mr. Peterson sees the confusion in your eyes. "The blood returning to your extremities will make them quite sensitive, Miss Murray." He pulls two small vibrators attached to adhesive strips from the box. "Now, hold still."

You pull in a sharp breath as he attaches a vibrator to your right nipple.

"A reward for your obedience this morning." He attaches the other to your left nipple. "And a reward for your enthusiasm."

Your breaths are heavy. With as raw and sensitive as your nipples are, even just the feeling of something against them is enough to send jolts of pleasure through you. Hopefully he won't...

Mr. Peterson pulls a small remote from the box. "And now, Miss Murray, we shall begin your instruction in discipline. Stand as you are, keep your skirt lifted, and do not climax unless given permission." He clicks the remote, and all three vibrators begin to buzz at once.

"HnnnnAAHH!"

You're immediately overwhelmed. The vibrator at your crotch is giving your clit a tantalizing indirect stimulation. Just enough to feel pleasure, while still leaving you aching for more. The vibrators on your nipples, meanwhile, are almost too much to bear. Your swollen buds feel so good they hurt, the direct contact driving you wild. The dueling sensations of too much and not enough are melting your mind and driving your body toward your long-delayed orgasm. You can't help but let out small moans and whimpers, not caring how pathetic you sound.

"What do you want, Miss Murray?" Mr. Peterson's calm voice washes over you.

I... I don't know. I want this to stop, I want more, I want your cock, I want you to hurt me, I want... "I-hanh... I want to come, Mr. Peterson." You have to stop yourself from begging.

"And why do you want to come, Miss Murray?"

What do you mean, why? Your mind can't process the question, forcing you to answer from pure instinct. "Mmmnnnn... it's... ah... it's too much, Mr. Peterson. I can't take it... I need to come... p-please..." Your orgasm feels so close you can taste it, but you have to hold back. You can't disobey your teacher.

"So you desire to come in order to relieve your need?"

What the fuck are you talking about? "Y-yes... nngh... Mr. Peterson..." Your clit starts throbbing, aching to be touched.

"Miss Murray, do you believe your desire to reach orgasm will be gone after climaxing now? Or will you still want more?"

Your cheeks burn with shame. I'm sorry, Mr. Peterson... I can't help it... "I... haaanh... I'll want more, Mr. Peterson." You can feel the blush start to spread from your cheeks down your neck.

"So is it really an orgasm you desire, Miss Murray, or is it something else?"

Your knees are shaking. I... I can't... "Hnnnnnng... I don't... Mr. Peterson I don't..." The pressure of your denied climax is making it almost impossible to think about anything else.

"Think, Miss Murray. Be honest with yourself. What do you want, right now?"

Your eyes drop down to his lap. "Mnnn... your cock. I want your cock, Mr. Peterson." Your pussy gushes as you say the words.

"And why do you want my cock, Miss Murray?"

Tears sting your eyes. What more do you want from me? "Hanh... hanh... I... I just... ah... I want to feel good, Mr. Peterson..." You know the feeling of his cock inside you would make you come by itself, but there's also something more.

"And you need my cock to feel good?"

No... I... I just... "I... aaaaaaannnnnhhhhh... I want..." It's more than just his cock. It's the thought of him letting you touch it, feel it, taste it, after having it denied to you. "I want to be... hngg... I want to be worth it... Mr. Peterson..." A tear makes its way down your burning cheek.

Mr. Peterson nods. "So it is not me, it is not the climax, it is something in you that you want. Is that it, Miss Murray?"

Your head spins. "I... yes, Mr. Peterson, but... haaah... but I don't..." Why do I care so much? What's so important about him letting me have it?

"There is something missing, Miss Murray, something that you feel you need. I can teach you. I can show you what it is. Now..." he stands, forcing you to look up to meet his eyes. "Tell me what you want, Miss Murray."

I... I still don't understand... "Mr. Peterson...ahh..."

He reaches out and gently strokes your wet pussy lips, making you gasp. "Do you want an orgasm, Miss Murray?"

Yes... so much... but... "I... I... ah!"

He moves forward, and you feel his stiff cock brush against you, leaving a trail of precum. "Do you want my manhood inside you, Miss Murray?"

Yes, oh my god I want to feel it stretching me... but... "I... Mr. Peterson..."

"Tell me what you want, Miss Murray."

Please Mr. Peterson I don't know... show me... "I... hng... I want you to teach me, Mr. Peterson. I want you to teach me what... hah... what I'm... missing..."

He pushes one finger inside you, and with his other hand clicks the remote, increasing the intensity of the vibrators. Your eyes go wide and your pussy clenches desperately around him. A wet, shuddering gasp escapes your open mouth.

"Are you sure that's what you want, Miss Murray? Are you sure you wouldn't rather climax right now?"

Your whole body shakes with need. Your nipples are twin beacons of aching pleasure, while your clit sings out with desire, wishing it could be just a tiny bit closer to the source of teasing vibration. Without the training Mr. Peterson gave your body yesterday, you would already be squirting your juices all over his hand, collapsing against him in an orgasmic heap. "Hanh! HAAAnnnggg... M-Mr. Peterson..."

"The choice is yours, Miss Murray. I will allow you to climax right now, if you choose. Or, if you have the discipline to put aside your carnal desires for a while longer, I can teach you what it is you need to understand about yourself."

Your eyes plead with him, even as your dripping passage squeezes around his finger. How can you possibly make that choice? Your long-denied orgasm is right there. All you have to do is let go for an instant, admit your pathetic need to your teacher, and you can feel that sweet release you crave.

But the other path calls out to you. The promise of understanding, of finally knowing what you really, truly need... could you live with yourself if you turned away from all that, just for an orgasm?

Looking into Mr. Peterson's dark eyes, you know that if you don't choose soon, your body will choose for you.