The Fancy Party

"I think you mean 'Please, yes, Miss, thank you for the ginger, Miss.'"

"Mmf." I could barely think. "Pl - please, Miss, thank you for the ginger, Miss." I wasn't really aware of what I was saying. The burning was getting more and more intense. It was a strange sort of pain, almost cold. Like actually tasting ginger but horrible.

"Oh, no problem, cunt!" She said cheerfully. She held the ginger stub against my clit for a few more seconds, the only sounds in the room my labored breathing. "Oh! I have an idea."

I cringed.

She held the ginger with one hand, and with the other retrieved the vibrator. I tensed in dread, but laid quietly in defeat.

"What do you think, bitch? Want a little vibe? Want some vibration?" She was so obviously mocking me. Despite the pain, I felt my cunt leak even more.

"Mmn." I didn't want to say it, but: "Yes, Miss, please, Miss."

"Good bitch!" She turned the vibrator on high once again, and used it to holding the ginger in place. I was convinced at this point my cunt must be bright red and extremely slick.

"Please, Miss," I whispered weakly. "Please don't let me come, Miss." I was immediately at the edge, even with the pain. Maybe because of the pain.

"Well, if you say so!" She removed the vibrator and the ginger, and I groaned as my inflamed clit twitched in the air. I managed to raise my head to look down my body, I had to see. It stuck out between my labia, shiny and stiff. It felt like it should have been bigger at that point. I groaned again and collapsed.

"Again!" She said, delighted. She held the ginger and vibrator to my clit again.

"Uuuugh," I managed. I wanted to cum but I also wanted the pain to stop. I could do neither. Before I knew it I was right at the edge again. "Please, don't let me come," I begged.

"Wow, this cunt has a hair-trigger, huh?" Someone else in the room commented. I shuddered. I was so close.

"Please!" I begged. "Please, stop, I'm gonna come!" I began to panic. She removed everything, I teetered on the edge, breathing hard. "Oh, God, Miss."

"Oh, come on," someone teased her.

"Oh, all right," she giggled. She barely brushed my clit with the ginger.

"Nooo," I pleaded, but it was too late. I barreled into another ruined orgasm, absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. "Uh uh uh," I grunted, losing all sense of myself, eyes practically rolling back in my head. My entire center hurt, muscles all cramping up, like doing hip lifts or something.

"There we go," said my Master. I knew nothing at that moment, but I knew his voice. I didn't realize what he was talking about, then I felt it: my face was wet. I sniffled.

"Sir?" I whispered. I took in a deep, shuddering breath.

Suddenly the woman between my legs was gone, as if she'd never been there at all. My Master was undoing my straps, and I collapsed fully.

"Uhhh," I managed.

"Blow." He held a tissue to my nose. I blew, and he laughed. "Good cunt. Spread 'em, just a little." I opened my legs and he held a cool wet cloth to my folds. It helped to dull the pain, the incessant throbbing.

"Come on, up." He helped me sit up, then put my arm over his shoulder and deposited me onto a nearby chair. By the time I got my bearings, I realized the room was empty except for us.

"What the fuck," I murmured.

"Here, drink." I drank obediently from the glass he held to my lips.

"Thanks." I lifted a shaking hand to wipe my mouth. "Do you have lip balm?" My lips felt so dry.

"Of course, hold still." I sat still as he applied balm to my lips. It was weird, how warm that made me feel. That old, fond memory of my best friend painting my face with makeup when we were children.

"Um." I said, when he was done. I tried to gather my thoughts. "Thank you for making me cry," I laughed, an unexpected burst of mirth. I wiped at my eyes a little. I laughed again, shoulders jumping.

"I can't believe you actually did," he said. "I have never been able to get you to that point."

"Well, you fuckin' did!" He shrugged. "No, you really did. You did." I tried to sober up, sound serious.

"You can't stop smiling," he gave me a soft look.

"Yeah, I guess I fucking can't!" I took the glass from him and took a few shaky sips. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

He shrugged. "Just a little suggestion I gave you last time I had you under."

"Hmm." I took another sip. "Who the fuck was that woman at the end?"

"Oh, Dahlia. You'd like her."

"I do like her. I should send her a Thank You card."

"Oh, you'll be sending a lot of Thank You cards."

"That should in no way be as hot as it is." He laughed and leaned into me. "You owe me that exact pair of underwear, you dick."

"Shhh," He shushed me. He squeezed my face in one hand and kissed me on my helpless, puckered lips.