An Evening with the Webcam Ch. 06byturtle_writes©
"Ngggh!" My gasp echoed off the tile walls. My hand clutched and twisted my breasts, as I struggled to distract myself from the powerful vibrator buzzing deep within me. I could feel myself beginning to contract around it, orgasm looming, and I closed my eyes tightly as I fought it off. I shuddered and nearly dropped the cell phone; my fingers quivered as I tapped out a message one-handed.
Please let me come!
The answer chirped back instantly. I knew what it was going to say before I read it.
Two minutes left.
Do not come.
I choked back a sob. My back arched, and I thrashed on the toilet seat, legs wide, one hand under my blouse. The egg buzzed and vibrated inside me, relentless; warm wetness flowed down my inner thigh. I heard a sound, midway between a moan and a wail, a guttural cry of pure need, and realized it had come from me. I snatched my hand from beneath my blouse and shoved my fist into my mouth, sharp teeth scraping on soft skin. The contractions started again, accompanied by a dizzying wave of pleasure and I whimpered and moaned and fought against it. Don't come, Jackie, you're not allowed to come...
The past couple of days had flashed by in a fog. He had come home, and taken me, and made me watch myself give my body to his friend as he took me; then, after that, nothing. Thursday had gone by without any demands on my body, without any text messages in the middle of the day.
Friday morning, I could tell he was up to something. He got out of bed early, whistling, I woke to find him sitting next to me in the bed, doing something on his laptop. He looked over at me and grinned, then calmly outlined how my day would go. Casually, matter-of-factly, as though he were talking about soybean futures or the weather in California, he had explained how he planned to torment me.
"From now until I say otherwise, you are not permitted to orgasm." His hands had slid over my bare skin, caressing my shoulder, running softly down my back as I lay in the bed. "Under no circumstances may you come, no matter what you're doing or what is done to you. You will masturbate every day, once when you wake up, once in the shower, once when you come home from work, and once when you go to bed. Each time, you will bring yourself right to the edge, but you will not come."
"Hush!" I turned to look at him, and he stroked my hair back away from my neck. His fingertips caressed my neck softly, then slid over the hollow of my throat, lightly traced over my collarbone. I sighed and closed my eyes.
His voice, calm and hypnotic, continued. "I'm not finished. In addition to this, you will do without being reminded, you will also carry a vibrator and a dildo with you at all times, including to work. You will masturbate throughout the day, at the times and in the manners I instruct."
"Shh!" He brought a finger up over my lips. "No talking. Not only will you masturbate in the manner and at the times I prescribe, but you will also do whatever you feel necessary to keep yourself thoroughly wet and ready for me at all times, day or night, wherever you are, whatever you're doing."
I shivered. His hands slid lower down my body, between my breasts, drawing out a long soft moan of delight. His fingers traced gentle lines over my stomach and down my leg, then along the sensitive inner part of my thigh. I squirmed and parted my legs slightly, offering him easier access, barely even conscious of it. He could play my body masterfully, with just the slightest touch...
"I want you always available, always ready for sex You may do this in any way you choose, by keeping yourself constantly aroused or by keeping yourself constantly lubed up, but I want to know that you are ready and I can lift your skirt and penetrate you at any moment." His fingers worked their way upward, along my thigh, and stroked my outer lips lightly, a whisper of sensation, barely felt. I sighed and parted my legs slightly wider, and arched my hips, subtle pressure back against his hand, the stirrings already beginning within me.
His fingertips ran lightly down my thigh. I stretched luxuriously under his touch. "These instructions begin now. I'm going to go make breakfast. You know what to do."
I turned on my side and opened my mouth to speak, then caught the look in his eye and thought better of it. Without a word, I opened the nightstand drawer and drew out a small, egg-shaped vibrator with a long cord connecting it to a flat battery pack. I rummaged around for a moment and selected a smooth, blunt silicone dildo, medium length, deep purple, with a flared base. Finally, the tube of KY, the one I'd used on the cucumber so many nights before. Had it really only been a couple of days? My sense of time seemed distorted; the trip to the store felt a lifetime ago.
"Good choices." He smiled. "I'll let you get to your errand." The smile became a smug smirk, and he left, humming to himself.
The stirrings grew stronger. I rolled onto my back, and let my hands slide over my breasts. I stroked my nipples, slowly, taking my time, coaxing them to respond, and wondered if Jason was watching the feed fro the camera in the bedroom. The idea that he could, if he chose, watch me whenever he liked, and I had no way to know without checking the server logs, was so absolutely delicious. He might be seeing me right now, watching me tease myself, as I drew up my knees and spread my legs wide, as my hand slid down my body and my fingers parted my folds, as I spread myself open, hips angled up toward the camera...he might be watching, or I might be performing for nobody. I didn't want to know which was true; not knowing lent a marvelous spice to what I was doing.
I pinched and stroked my nipple lightly, and shivered. Wetness dripped past my fingertips. Well, at least that part of Robert's command was done. I moved my fingers in languid circles around my clit, and moaned. I closed my eyes, let my thoughts drift, remembered waking two nights ago with my wrists and ankles bound, Jason's fingers probing insistently where my fingers were now. My breath quickened, my heart fluttered as I increased the tempo, driving myself on, fingers rapidly stroking small circles. More wetness, tension building higher, and soon it was there, the ecstasy ready to crash over me...
...and I cried out and snatched my fingers away. I lay there on the bed, squirming, shaking, on the ragged edge of orgasm, and my hands dug into the mattress as I writhed. "Ngaah!" I closed my eyes tightly and my back arched involuntarily. "Oh, my God, this is going to be a long day!"
I clenched and writhed and beat the mattress with my fists until the feeling subsided. When my breathing finally slowed and my heart stopped pounding, I rose unsteadily and made my way into the bathroom. I glared at the shower stall, images of myself bound there while Jason stood over me...
He did that on purpose, I suddenly realized. He had done that intentionally, knowing that every time I showered, I would remember, and think of him. He had created that association, with forethought, knowing that it would remain-and he had succeeded. He'd won that game, and I hadn't even realized we were playing.
"Clever boy," I said out loud. I ran the water, and looked directly into the camera over the door. "Very clever. You know I'll never forget." When the water flowed hot, I stepped in and let it spray over me. Was he watching now? I stretched beneath the stream, reached over my head, caught the showerhead with my hands. If you're watching, what does this remind you of? Did you enjoy tying my wrists to this showerhead? I laughed aloud. Two can play that game. I bet you don't forget, either...
I soaped and rinsed, still taking my time, giving myself distance from the brink of the orgasm I'd denied. Then, unhurriedly, I took the showerhead from its bracket, set it to the pulse jet I loved, slid it between my legs. My breath caught as the pulsing stream of water jetted against me. A little more to the left, up a little bit, and right there-
The feeling slammed through me like a thunderbolt, ferocious and unanticipated. Just like that, the orgasm I'd bottled up was there, nearly overtaking me in its unexpected swiftness, and I dropped the showerhead. My vision wavered and turned black, and I fought it down, pushing it away, forcing it back. No... My fingernails dug into my thigh and I felt myself slide down the wall. Don't come don't come don't come don't let it happen...
A long, shuddering breath. Then another. My vision cleared as I drove the wave of ecstasy back. I realized I was sitting on the floor of the shower stall, with the showerhead swinging at the end of its hose,; looking down, I saw that my fingernails had left marks in my thighs. My God, that was close, and less than half an hour into this. I'm going to need to be more careful! I straightened, replaced the showerhead, turned off the water. I couldn't imagine what Robert would've done had I broken the rules so quickly.
My body sang with repressed desire. As I toweled myself off, electricity crawled over my skin. I felt lit up, crackling with sexual tension, and I'd barely started the morning,. I looked at myself in the mirror: nipples hard as diamonds, face flushed, body taut with need. Oh, yes, this is going to be a very long day...
I heard the sounds of Robert in the kitchen. Back in the bedroom, I selected my clothes for the day-a dark skirt, ending just above my knee; cream-colored button-up blouse, lace push-up bra and matching lace panties-and laid them out on the bed. The dildo and vibrator went into my purse; I picked up the bottle of lube, and turned it over in my hands as I sat on the edge of the bed. The frantic, desperate near-orgasm in the shower had faded to a dull aching need, and I could feel the heat and wetness there; no need, really, to use it.
And yet...what if work distracted me from my arousal? His instructions were quite clear; I was to be ready at all times.
More than that, though, using it would give me an opportunity to touch myself, to slide my fingers down between my legs, even if only for a moment. I wanted that, desperately, craved the feel of something inside me, even knowing that it could only be a tease, would only make me that much more frantic. So early in the day, and already my arousal was wound taut, coiled inside me like a spring; the knowledge that I had to be available for sex at all times, and that I could not have the release I craved, made the delicious torment so much stronger.
I glanced up at the camera. Was Jason watching? If so, he would surely appreciate seeing me touch myself again.
I could use the KY, which would let me touch myself, would make sure I was in compliance with Robert's directive, and would give Jason a show, if he was watching. Or, I could get dressed and have breakfast. Looked at that way, the decision seemed obvious.
And, I thought, since part of this was for Jason's benefit, assuming he was watching, might as well really give him a show. No sense in doing things halfway, after all...
I smiled, and reached under the bed for the toy bag. Let's see, they should be right here... I found the box of latex gloves Robert sometimes uses when he does certain very evil things to me, pulled out two, and turned onto my back with my legs widely spread. I pulled on the gloves and ran my hands down my sides, delighting in the feel of the smooth latex on bare skin.
Are you watching, Jason? I thought to myself as I caressed my body, feeling delightfully sensual and very dirty at the same time. Do you like seeing me touch myself? Does it turn you on? A few days ago, I was shocked and embarrassed that Robert had let him see me naked; now I relished the thought that he could watch me masturbate openly.
I picked up the tube and squeezed a generous amount of the slippery stuff across my fingertips. Feet high over my head, I reached down between my legs and spread it over my outer lips. The coolness made me shudder, and I stifled a small moan. I slipped my fingertips gently between my lips, then pressed three fingers deep inside.
"Mmmmmghh!" I threw my head back and moaned as the pleasure washed over me. My nipples stood erect, and I pressed my fingers deeper and tightened around them, feeling the thick jelly squishing inside me. Just a few quick moves, just a couple of strokes and the orgasm I'd twice denied would be there...in that moment, it almost seemed worth any consequences. For a timeless instant, I held still, my fingers pressing deep, squeezing around them, holding my breath; then reason reasserted itself and I drew my fingers free, gasping and twitching.
And I was running late.
I stripped off the gloves, tossed them into the trash, and dressed quickly. I picked up the lace panties, debated for a moment, then threw them back down on the bed; if Robert planned to use me later, I thought, it might be better not to have them in the way. Besides, the idea of going to work wet and ready, with no panties under my skirt, seemed intoxicatingly dirty.
I headed into the kitchen. Robert had finished making breakfast, and he greeted me at the door. "Don't you look radiant? I like what being denied does to you." He kissed my cheek, and his hands slipped under my dress and caressed my inner thigh. "Are you wet right now?"
"Ohh...oh, yes," I sighed. His hand slid up, lightly grazing my outer lip.
"No. I want you to wear panties. No bra, though."
"No bra? But I-"
His other hand caught my hair and yanked, dragging my head back. "No bra. Take it off. Now."
He held me that way, one hand in my hair, the other on my thigh, as I fumbled for the buttons and stripped off the blouse. I unclasped the bra and slipped it off, and he took his hand from my thigh and brought it to my bare breast. "Much better." His fingers stroked my breast, gentle, and he tugged harder on my hair.
A dizzying wave of need swept over me, and I sank to my knees, almost without being aware of it. I was hungry; I was horny; I wanted to give myself to him, and wanted him to take me, use me, fill me roughly, possess me. My hands found his jeans, felt hardness beneath them, and instantly I wanted him, needed him, in my mouth, strong hands gripping my head, pushing...
"Oh, no, you don't!" He released me and straightened. "I just spent all this time making waffles and bacon for you, and you're not going to work without eating." He grinned. "Get dressed and eat breakfast."
I gathered up the fallen bra and blouse, pouting, and walked back to the bedroom. I pulled on the panties, then slipped the blouse back on. My nipples were standing painfully hard, and pressed against the thin silky material as I buttoned it over my breasts, bringing a whimper from somewhere inside me.
I came back out and sat at the table. Robert didn't sit as well, the way I'd expected him to; he stood behind me, instead, close enough I could feel his heat, not quite touching me. His nearness drove me crazy; I could hear him breathe, could feel him just behind me as I ate. I wanted badly for him to pull my hair, put his hands on me, anything. I shifted in my chair, moved back slightly, aching to feel the touch of his body, but he shifted with me keeping just barely out of my reach.
My skin was aflame. Every fiber of my being seemed drawn out taut. I felt almost painfully aware of everything around me; every bite of food took an eternity, every motion sent crawling electricity through my body, and through it all burned a voracious need to feel his touch, and he did not touch me. I sensed him, felt the heat of him, and still he did not touch me. By the time I was finished with breakfast, my chest was tight with need, and I couldn't stop the whimpering, mewling sounds...and still he did not touch me.
I rose, and he stepped around me and cleaned up the dishes without a word. I expected him to break the spell then, kiss me and send me on my way, but he didn't; nothing instead but silence and aching need. I gathered my purse and laptop, walked to the door, turned at the last instant to face him. I started to speak, but the barest shake of his head, the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, stopped me at once. You bastard, a small defiant voice in my head said, you're enjoying this, you love to manipulate my reactions, make me want you and then pull back, you love seeing me this way.
I backed up a half-step under the intensity of his gaze, coming up against the door. And I love it, too. Slowly, deliberately, eyes locked to his, I brought one hand up to my breast, found my nipple where it pressed against the silky smooth fabric of the blouse. I took it in my fingers, and moaned softly my need, then twisted sharply, turning the moan to a cry. His breath caught. I winked at him and grinned, feeling naughty. "I love you, Robert!" Triumphant, I turned, opened the door, and left.
I was still buzzing when I got to the office. The parking garage was beginning to fill up when I arrived, and I had to drive nearly to the top story to find a parking space. My mind hummed as I walked down toward the bridge into the building; I couldn't help savoring that small reaction from Robert. I smiled secretly at my reflection in the mirror on the elevator ride up to my office. My senses felt sharpened, and beneath everything I did, I could feel an electric current of raw sexual energy.
The morning passed in a heady mixture of delicious arousal and sheer torment. My focus was shot; I found myself reading the same account summary over and over, and my mind kept wandering down dark and perverted alleys. Several times, I caught myself unconsciously opening my legs and rocking my hips on my chair. I felt like an animal in heat; my skin crackled and glowed with barely suppressed tension.
I closed my eyes and fantasized about Jason, and about Robert, my thoughts exploring what the two of them might be able to do if I gave myself to both of them at the same time. I could almost feel it--Robert standing behind me, not quite touching me, letting me feel his nearness as Jason drew close. I could see the predatory look in Jason's eye, the animal desire there, so intense I drew away from him, backing into Robert's unmoving body. I imagined Robert's hands shooting out, taking my elbows, pinning them sharply behind my back; my own sudden struggle, frantic, as Jason reached for me, tore my blouse open, savage. I could picture myself squirming, helpless in Robert's firm grip, arms drawn back until my elbows almost touched, the blouse hanging open, exposing me to Jason's hunger...the feel of Robert hardening behind me, pressing into the cleft of my ass, as Jason slowly and methodically stripped me...
My cell phone chirped, startling me out of the fantasy, and I realized my hand had been creeping unbidden down toward my legs. I blinked, momentarily disoriented.
Another chirp. I picked up the phone, breathing hard. Two text messages, both from Robert.
Excuse yourself. Go into the bathroom.
Send me a message when you are there.
I picked up the phone and my purse, feeling flushed and guilty, like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. I looked around the office, then slipped out the door and hurried down the hall to comply. I had a feeling what was coming next, and my need prodded me on.
The ladies room was empty-thank God for small blessings. I locked myself in a stall-the same one I'd used several days ago-and pulled out the phone.
Ok. Now what?
A pause. I sat there, nervous, aroused, waiting. When no message came back, I started to wonder if he'd received it. I checked the signal strength, then checked it again.
The minutes dragged on, tormenting me. Had he received the message? Was he still waiting? Was he doing this intentionally? The hard seat beneath me was cold through the thin skirt, and I felt wetness drip down my thigh. Still nothing.