11:48 - Chapter 02byWFEATHER©
I was hard. There was a definite throbbing within My jeans, a pulsing echoing My heartbeat.
The reason was the young Asian woman masturbating on the bed. Glancing at the clock, I saw that nearly fifteen minutes had passed since I had first ordered her to touch herself. Using one hand to rub her clitoris and the other hand to probe inside her wanton body, she was breathing somewhat hard, her eyes only partially open whenever she looked at Me. her nipples were as hard as small pebbles atop the breasts which quivered with her movements of her arms as she pleasured herself and writhed in instinctive response.
Part of Me has always enjoyed witnessing a woman increasing her own arousal, especially when she is also quite vocal. While My slave was not naturally vocal, I knew that her will to remain quiet was going to crumble soon, if for no other reason than to maintain her will to fend off the impending orgasm.
The latter was key, for while this was the day she would celebrate both her twenty-fifth birthday and her first orgasm since her twenty-fourth birthday, she still could not disobey one of the most fundamental rules of her slavery: Only with My explicit permission could she allow herself to climax.
My sadistic heart would quite likely overflow with appreciation and love when she finally began to verbally beg. I eagerly anticipated hearing her high-pitched voice whining between heavy breaths and frustrated teeth-clenched groans while watching her hands continuing to busy themselves between her legs and enjoying how she thrashed about on the massive bed.
But first, I planned to torment her, to make her suffer psychologically.
The DVD was already loaded. Finally and semi-reluctantly rising from the recliner, I moved to turn on the television, then turn on the DVD player, and finally set the DVD to Play. I specifically looked at My slave, watching her closely, enjoying how she was trying to remain on her back with her legs spread even though her body wanted to curl into a ball with her thighs clamped tightly around her questing hands.
"Look at the screen," I instructed My self-pleasuring slave, and she did, her eyes widening greatly.
she saw herself on her birthday one year earlier. The slave on the screen was naked save for a thin metal collar. she squatted over a Sybian, her forearms bound together behind her back, ropes essentially forming a bra and also confining her upper arms to her sides while toothed clamps tortured her proud nipples and a blindfold forced her to focus on the clamps and on the dual vibrating protrusions rising into her rocking body as I knelt behind her, holding her steady as the Sybian tried to force an orgasm from her. The young woman on the scream was bucking hard, squirming roughly and spewing lewd sounds from her lips as she tried to wait for the required permission.
The slave on the bed could not hear, but she probably remembered how, one year earlier, I had whispered into her ear, "Cum for Me!"
The slave on the screen screamed shrilly from her powerful release while the slave on the bed thrashed about from her unfulfilled need. The two situations were beautiful separately and absolutely glorious in combination.
As the slave on the screen began to calm, the DVD stopped, and began to play the scene again.
Ten more minutes passed as the slave on the bed was tormented by her own orgasmic cries from one year earlier.
Finally, she broke. she begged Me to give her permission to finally enjoy an orgasm, the first in a year.
"11:48," I reminded her, and once My statement had sunk into her desperate mind, she looked at the clock atop the dresser and groaned loudly, tears emerging from her eyes. I smirked, the prominent bulge at the front of My jeans announcing that I was thoroughly enjoying My slave's lustful, desperate plight.
I stood there a bit longer, watching, listening, inhaling. "Don't stop," I warned her as I finally made My way out of the Master bedroom. Even from downstairs, I could hear her desperate cries, and she continued to beg even though I was no longer with her. I craved it all, devouring her pleasurable despair. Even from the basement dungeon, I could hear her, faintly, but I could no longer hear her cries from one year earlier.
When I returned to My still-masturbating slave, her natural scent was incredibly pungent in the Master bedroom, filling the air nicely. I brought with Me the thick red ribbed dildo which stretches her nicely and the powerful wand-style vibrator which would certainly send her over the edge as soon as she touched it to her clitoris. "Move your hands away," I instructed her, and she thanked Me with her eyes as her hands settled on her heaving stomach.
When I reached her, I first handed My slave the thick dildo. "Put it in." Despite her thorough wetness, it still took her a little effort to fill her sex to capacity. Panting and groaning, there was no doubt that she was being stretched, that clenching the massive toy gave her both pleasure and discomfort, but the screams from one year earlier clearly still caused her some torment - to My delight - for My slave's eyes kept briefly returning to the screen of the large television beyond the foot of the massive bed.
I turned on the wand-style vibrator, instantly using full power, knowing that the batteries within would be drained rather soon. "Hold this," I insisted, and she did, purposely not touching the vibrating end to her body - but I also had not yet commanded her to do so.
I began to undress. "At 11:47," I informed her, "you are to hold that vibrator to your clit. If you want, you can use the other hand to keep that big dildo inside you. But remember that under no circumstances are you to orgasm until 11:48, and your orgasm must be done by 11:49. Understood?"
As soon as I was fully naked, I mounted the king-size bed and straddled My slave. her eyes were still pleading, even though her voice had been reduced to whimpers and moans as she certainly kept clenching around the hefty ribbed dildo inside her. For maybe a minute, I used her mouth, coating much of My length with her saliva and also giving her a little bit of distraction from the screams and from the penetration. Twice I gagged her briefly, hinting once again that I wanted her to learn to deepthroat Me, but I planned for those daily lessons to begin in earnest following her birthday.
Finally withdrawing from My slave's wonderful mouth, I began to stroke Myself, and with a glance at the clock, I saw that it was nearly time. "Watch the clock," I ordered her.
I did not need to look at the digital clock to know when 11:47 had arrived, for the way her body suddenly lurched between My legs made that moment quite evident. For several seconds, her mouth was open wide in a voiceless scream, and then her current voice joined her year-old voice in a seductive duet.
I splattered My slave's beautiful face and shiny hair. I remained silent as I enjoyed an orgasm, adding just one more layer of torment to her predicament. she thrashed about beneath Me, moving more than ever before as she fought to hold back her moment of pleasure just a little longer, just a few more seconds...
Turning My head, I watched the digital numbers, waiting, and at 11:48, exactly twenty-five years after her birth, My slave plummeted deep into the abyss of bliss. her hard-tipped breasts shook violently as she twisted and bucked like a bronco in a rodeo. her screams were almost piercing given the high natural pitch of her voice. The bed protested, its sounds almost entirely masked by her beautiful outburst. her reddened face flipped from side to side as she rode the tsunami within her, her eyes open but probably unseeing. After all this build-up and after such an unusually-long time since her last orgasm, her body was truly primed, for one orgasm melded into a second into a third into a fourth, all in the space of a minute.
When the clock changed to show 11:49, she was still in the throes of ecstasy, her eyes clamped shut, her voice weakening as she rode the tsunami of yet another orgasm.
"The clock!" I yelled at her, but it still took several seconds for My words to break through the deluge of pleasure and cause her to focus on the clock again. Instantly, I heard the vibrator's pitch change as it was tossed aside, landing on the floor and continuing its purpose by stimulating the carpet.
As My slave recovered, I stood and turned off the television and the DVD player, then began to redress. she was still breathing hard, curled into a ball at the center of the massive bed, a hand cupping her well-exercised clitoris. "Come downstairs when you're ready," I told her calmly, "and you can take out the dildo whenever you want."
Nearly two hours passed before she appeared in the living room, exhaustion still evident in her eyes and in her body language. Like a good slave, she knelt on the pillow beside My chair, looking up at Me with love and with concern.
"What's on your mind, slave?" I asked her soothingly, reaching out to stroke her chestnut hair.
Despite the six years of training, she hesitated this time before answering. "Thank you for the orgasmic minute, Master, but now i need to be punished."
"Why is that?"
she hesitated again, taking a deep breath to center herself. "i definitely had more than one orgasm - too many for me to count, Sir. And it did not end before the time changed to 11:49, Master. i deserve to be punished."
"Perhaps," I mused aloud, "but after lasting an entire year without a single orgasm, I think that is above and beyond the normal expectations of a slave, so in this specific case, I believe a punishment is not warranted."
Sweetly, she smiled, her exhaustion still evident in her eyes. "Thank You for Your understanding, Master."
"Thank you for being such a fine slave," I returned. "Now go get Me a Coke."
"Yes, Sir!" she practically sprang up to her feet, still exhausted but with a burst of energy characteristic of the slave I knew and loved.