During that first week she teased him relentlessly. She got home from work before he did and was
always waiting for him dressed provocatively in outfits she knew he liked (the
sorts of things she only ever wore for him in the bedroom) with her hair
freshly washed and straightened. She
flirted and teased him all evening. She made
him give her orgasms. One evening he
came home to find her pleasuring herself on the couch with her vibrator. She made him watch and then ordered him to take
the vibrator and continue. When she was
close she made him bring her off orally.
Under this regime he couldn’t keep his hands off her so one evening she
told him that if he touched her at all that evening he’d be kept locked up for
another week. For the rest of the
evening she crawled all over him driving him crazy. As release day approached she deliberately
convinced him by the things she said at home and the text messages she sent him
at work, that release would mean an orgasm for him.
When release day came and she had him tied to the bed she began
by giving him a long slow teasing blowjob, keeping him close to the edge but
never letting him orgasm. She’d stop
every so often to give him time to calm down, then she’d put her mouth back on
him and start all over again, edging him over and over. Later she straddled him and rode him, but
really slow, verbally teasing him as she tormented him with her body. Again she was edging him repeatedly. Eventually she had him bring her to orgasm
orally. Afterwards she had to leave him
for over an hour, still tied to the bed, before he’d calmed down enough for her
to get the chastity back on him.
While I read all that I suffered all manner of torments in
my own chastity. My balls ached
abominably, my cock was tormented relentlessly, and my pants were soaked in
pre-cum.
While I’ve been working on this project for Goddess my
evenings have become a reflection of my normal working day: get up, wash, eat,
go to work, come home, wash, eat, go to work, go to bed, get up, wash, eat, go
to work, come home, wash, eat, go to work, go to bed… An effect of that is that I’m thinking about
Goddess constantly. Many times last week
at work I’d suddenly find myself with serious torment going on in the chastity,
with my cock straining to get hard and the skin of my scrotum being tormented. And then, to add to the mix of what’s already
spinning around in my head, I have all these mental images of this girl relentlessly
teasing her boyfriend's cock with her clever mouth, her lips and her tongue, with
no intention of letting him cum. Inevitably
I was empathising with him and of course wishing I was him, wishing it was my
cock; and, thinking of Goddess all the time, wishing the girl was Goddess
Valentine.
But I just can’t think of Goddess that way. The idea of anyone so perfect, so flawlessly
beautiful as Goddess Valentine being with anyone like me in a manner so
intimate is so outlandish, so unreasonable, so improbable, that the moment I
try to imagine it it disappears. So after
I’d read this account, for the rest of the night and for the whole of the following
day both at work and at home, it span around in my head, with thoughts of
Goddess spinning around it but both on different orbits, occasionally coming
close but never meeting. But as they
span they were picking up speed, gaining energy.
At some time in the early hours of Friday morning, deep in
my head, the two ideas smashed headlong into each other. The massive release of energy had to discharge
itself somewhere. I was woken
immediately with a rock hard straining erection jammed into the end of the tube
of the CB3000, hauling agonisingly on the skin of my scrotum caught on the A
ring. How long does it take to dream an
image; seconds, a fraction of a second?
I was sitting on the edge of my bed with my hands handcuffed behind me. Goddess Valentine’s gorgeous sexy mouth was
on my penis, Her soft red lips sliding along the shaft as Her mouth pulled on
me. She drew me out of Her mouth and I
saw Her clever tongue curl and flick teasingly at the head of me. She looked up at me with Her irresistibly
beautiful blue eyes, Her long blond hair gleaming and cascading soft over Her
shoulders. In the instant I realised
what I was looking at the image vanished completely.
But the energy of collision between the two ideas was far
from being discharged. I was awake now
and the image morphed into a waking dream of wickedly cruel and calculated teasing.
I was in a room in Goddess’s house, naked
and standing restrained between two upright posts with my hands held slightly
away from my body. I was locked in
chastity and I was gagged. Goddess
Valentine was standing in front of me.
She was wearing Her lemon mohair sweater, the first one I bought Her as
a surprise gift and to which She’d reacted so ecstatically, saying how gorgeously
soft it was and how much She loved it. There
was another slave there too. He was
similarly restrained but blindfolded instead of gagged. We were positioned turned in towards each
other so that Goddess standing between us made the third side of a triangle. Goddess was looking at me and caressing
Herself in Her sweater, running Her hands over Her arms and over Her body.
“This sweater is so-o soft, phil,” She purred
seductively. “It feels so delicious
against My skin. I know how badly you
wish you could be in My arms; to feel the Goddess you love so much, so soft and
warm against you.”
Still looking into my face She reached out and slowly
slipped Her arm around the waist of the blindfolded slave. “There,” She said, still talking to me, “a
little treat for You because you love Me so much and you’re a good slave.” She moved Her arm against his skin, caressing
him. “How does that feel?” She asked me. “Is that nice and soft?”
Being gagged I could only plead with my eyes. A mocking smile played around Goddess’s
beautiful sexy mouth. She turned away
slightly and slowly put both arms around the blindfolded slave’s neck and
pressed Herself against him. Although he
couldn’t see it She lifted Her face towards his and began saying how close Her
lips were and how soft they were. “How
long is it now since a girl kissed you?” She asked and I knew She was still
talking to me.
We were both being cruelly tormented by our chastities; him
because he could feel what the Goddess he couldn’t see was doing to him, and me
because I could see but couldn’t feel.
This scene went on and on in a waking dream with everything Goddess said
and did designed to torment me, guided by everything She knows about me and my hopeless
lovesick desires, but where the only thing that was real was the relentless
cruel tormenting of my cock and balls.
And it went on for an hour.
Without interruption. A solid
hour of relentless physical and emotional torment all driven by the collision in my head between my
thinking constantly about my beloved beautiful Goddess and about the powerfully
erotic account of a girl teasing and tormenting her newly chastised boyfriend. It was excruciating. And it woke me up again later; repeatedly.
All of this I suppose begs a question. On the one hand there’s this guy, kept in
chastity by his girlfriend, tied by her to their bed, unlocked and tormented by
her lips and her tongue and her mouth and her body teasing his frustrated cock. On the other hand there’s me, kept in
chastity by a beautiful Goddess I’ll never even meet, never unlocked, and tormented
in the middle of the night by my own fevered imagination and the things that
Goddess and random chance plant there, while at the same time knowing I’ll
never be allowed to feel anyone’s lips or tongue or mouth or body on my
frustrated cock. Who is the most teased
and denied?
Answer in 1500 words.
You may use both sides of the paper.
