Tom and Gabby Ch. 07 - Absconsion

All my attempts to writhe away are countered by the restraints, and Linda's hold of the wand. I breathe fast and hard, panting, trying to control my reactions as the aggressive buzzing torments me.

"Get comfortable Gabby, you'll be there for a while," Tom informs me.

I vocalise loudly, trying again to convince them to listen to me.

"I can't understand a word you're saying Gabby. It's just noise. Are you protesting? Vowing to fight it as hard as you can? Refusing to submit?" he asks, disinterested.

I whimper and he leans down to my face, so I can feel his breath.

"Give it your best. Seriously. Don't hold back. Then when you fail, and orgasm all over the table, try harder to resist the next one. Or the one after that. Over and over again," he whispers cruelly.

"Even when you resort to screaming and begging us to stop, we probably won't."

There's no reason for me to believe he's bluffing.

"I want you to remember that you chose this. You could have been looking forward to an afternoon of watching films with us right now, but instead, you decided to try something stupid. And as a result, this is what you get. By your sixth or seventh climax, you'll probably willing to do anything to make it up to us but it won't be enough.

You're not going to know the start of one orgasm from the end of the last. You're not going to have a single lucid thought left in your head. Just a pool of your fluids underneath you. And we're going to watch the entirety of it. When the point comes, when we think you've probably had enough, we'll make you have a couple more before we take the wand off, just to be sure that you've got a sense of the consequences. You're not going to be able to walk or talk, or think by yourself, and then we're going to take you into the living room and let you try out what we had delivered this morning. While we watch some films, like we'd planned to. The only person's day you've ruined is your own," he describes graphically.

I shake my head, miserably.

Tom has never been vengeful, but his depiction of this punishment is truly merciless.

"You'll love what we bought for you Gabby, honestly," Linda says.

"Even if she doesn't Lind, what the fuck is she going to be able to do about it?" Tom retorts.

The gel they applied to my clit has made it highly oversensitive. I look down the table to ensure that they haven't upped the intensity of the vibrations without my noticing.

Tom catches me looking.

"It's still on low Gabby, don't worry. It wouldn't make sense to put it on high yet. We'll turn it up later. What you're feeling is the sensitising cream Linda put on before we got our coffees," he confesses.

I glare at him.

"I initially doubted it'd do anything for you, but from the look on your face and your desperate wriggling, I might've been wrong," he sounds pleasantly surprised.

"I knew it would work," Linda states smugly. "It'd probably have been better to save and apply between orgasms, when her clit needed a bit of a wakeup again, but it's not a big problem. We've got a full bottle if she needs more."

Tom smirks.

"Linda spent ages researching these creams, Gabby. She bought the highest rated one. It wasn't cheap. She showed me the technical details before she bought it, and the science all checks out," Tom gloats. "They work by increasing blood flow to the clit and making everything a bit more receptive to stimulation," he enlightens me.

I'm not even slightly interested. Something is starting to stir in my pussy.

"Maybe later, you'll be able to explain how it feels for us, and we can leave a review for it?" Linda mocks.

"What do you reckon Lind?" Tom asks, distracted, suddenly looking up and down my body, noticing something. "Three minutes? Three and a half?" He studies my face.

"Two minutes and fifty seconds," Linda estimates.

I'm no longer listening to them.

I close my eyes tightly and tilt my head back, grabbing for the edges of the table and trying to concentrate on keeping my resolve.

My legs begin to twitch, loudly signalling the start of my plight to Tom and Linda.

My shoulders sink back, and my stomach tautens as I try to fight. It feels like I'm having some kind of involuntary whole-body spasm.

I moan out quietly, demanding that my body respects my minds wishes. Like normal now, it declines to and amplifies the pleasure in response. I hear myself getting louder and louder, as the vibrations continue.

I can feel every concentrated whirr of the wand. I'm so tense, so desperate, that I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

"She's not going to make it to two Lind," Tom enthuses.

I feel my build up starting. My toes curl and my legs stretch, splayed out awkwardly, as much as is possible in the restraints. I try in vain to defy what's happening but ultimately know it's hopeless.

"Eight seconds Lind. She's holding herself right on the edge of it," Tom taunts.

They begin a slow countdown together, to accelerate my imminent climax.

I gasp raggedly, as every muscle in my body engages, readying me for the inevitable surrender.

The room seems to slip away from me. "Four...three..." I hear them chanting, almost sounding like they're voices inside my head.

They reach 'two', and the orgasm hits me, spreading upward from my pussy, through my stomach and liquifying any conscious thoughts in my mind.

It makes me a passenger in my own body, with no ability to stop myself bending awkwardly and crying out in a mix of pleasure and distress. I feel fluids dribbling out of my pussy. It tickles as they trickle down to my arsehole.

When the orgasm eventually subsides, the vibrations continue, torturously.

I'm used to Tom and Linda taking the wand off me at this point, but today, they don't. I'm not able to sink into afterglow to recover, as the stimulation persists. It's unbearable and I hear myself uttering hideous guttural noises, as if I'm choking on my own saliva.

The longer I lie, inelegantly enduring the vibrations, the more I realise that Tom was sincere when he told me of their plans to make me beg for it to stop.

They seem to enjoy my struggling for a few minutes, watching and mocking as I continue to convulse.

They take turns in leaning over, with outstretched hands, as if to take the wand away, but then withdraw, letting it continue.

I grind my teeth into the gag to try and distract myself from the unbearable sensations in my pussy. It's overwhelming, morphing past pleasure into an almost pained feeling. I hear Tom describing it to Linda as the 'refractory stage', with assurances that it'll soon pass, and I'll be on my way to my second orgasm.

I suffer under the vibrations, tediously, all the while begging for my suffering to come to an end.

I can't discern the exact moment that the feeling become tolerable again, Tom and Linda notice before I do, and return to their conversation.

"Shall we keep her gagged while we're watching our films?" Tom asks her.

"I think so baby," Linda answers. "I don't want her moaning to ruin it for us."

I listen to them talking between themselves, finally privy to one of their discussions about me.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he replies. "We should probably get her to eat something when she's finished on here," he suggests.

"I'll make something for her," Linda responds.

"You're amazing, Lind. I mean, even after she spat in your face, you're still willing to make food for her?" Tom commends her.

"Of course. Despite what she thinks, I'm not a horrible person. She needs to eat something. I'm hardly going to let her try and cook something for herself, am I? Not in her fragile state of mind," she makes a dig.

"I love you, you know," Tom says, and she smiles widely, as if he's just paid her the best compliment imaginable.

It's a momentous moment in their relationship. As far as I know, they've not exchanged the 'love' word yet.

"I love you too," she responds after a second's delay.

I feel a wave of pleasure starting to develop and groan out.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tom remarks, looking down at me with raised eyebrows. "Don't let us interrupt you."

I close my eyes, not wanting to look at him as he looks at me.

I breathe slowly through my nose, trying to supress the start of another build up.

"No, it's alright. We'll wait Gabby. Carry on," he prompts, pretending to be gracious.

His words don't help me to quell what's unmistakeably happening.

Perhaps I should feel awkward or guilty for interrupting their tender moment, but I don't. I don't have a choice in what's happening; this is their choosing, not mine. I lack the capacity to feel anything in this moment.

I long for them to keep conversing together, to allow me something else to concentrate on, other than my punishment. They seem to know I need the distraction, and deny me, both standing on ceremony, waiting for my climax.

They don't count down this time, but the feel of their eyes, surveying each involuntary twitch is enough.

My legs tauten and my back starts to arch.

"This one's going to be more intense than the last one," Tom observes. "Can you see how her build up is slower?"

However accurate he might be, his comment is deliberate, spoken only to increase my pleasure and lower my resistances.

It feels like the more I try to stop it, the faster and harder the orgasm builds.

"It's close now, isn't it Gabby?" Tom encourages. "Come on, let it out. You know, the irony isn't lost on us that you waited until we were being romantic until you decided to climax. We're taking this as your blessing."

I tense to hold back the impending pleasure, making every muscle as tight as I possibly can and holding my breath. It's the last defence I have, and I can already feel the orgasm surpassing it. I can't bear the thought of Tom and Linda taking this as some subconscious show of my support for their relationship.

By the time I realise my body has betrayed me, it's in the midst of happening.

My neck extends backwards as it peaks. I stiffen unyieldingly, before wailing out loudly. My face warps with no way of hiding it, and I feel my pussy gushing at forceful pressure. The release, however unwanted, is immense.

I lock in position for a few seconds, waiting for it to pass, wondering whether Tom and Linda are going to move the wand this time, and allow me a moment to compose myself.

I only need a couple of minutes. Nothing excessive.

Unsurprisingly, they make no move to help me, and I resent them for it, knowing that they're not going to. Not until they feel I've had enough. Not until I've learned my lesson and am truly repentant.

If their mercy relies on me being truly repentant, I doubt I'll ever make it off this table.

To be continued...