The rope bit into your wrists, a delicious counterpoint to the lingering ache in your ass. I finished the knot, a simple but effective column tie that would hold you securely through the night. I grabbed your bound arms, using them as a handle to pull you up to your knees on the bed.
“Open,” I commanded, my voice still rough from my own release. Your mouth, swollen and used from the morning, parted instantly. I pushed my half-hard cock, still coated with the mixture of our orgasms, past your lips. “Clean me.”
You moaned around my length, your tongue working diligently to lap up every trace of our combined pleasure. The plug, still seated deep inside you, was a constant presence, a reminder of the day’s torment and your complete submission. I grew hard again in your mouth, your eager submission fueling my desire.
“Enough,” I grunted, pulling out and leaving you panting. I pushed you forward, your face pressing into the mattress, your bound arms trapped beneath you. The position arched your back, presenting your plugged ass to me like an offering.
I ran a finger down your spine, tracing the faint red lines from the crop. “You were so good today,” I murmured, my hand coming down in a sharp smack on one cheek. You flinched, a muffled cry escaping into the bedding. “Taking the plug in public, letting me use your mouth in front of our friends, almost coming in the museum. You pleased me.”
Another smack, this time on the other cheek. “But you were a little too eager to come, weren’t you? Begging in the museum, begging again on the bed. Your pleasure is a privilege, not a right. You need to remember that.”
I retrieved the remote from the nightstand, my thumb hovering over the button. “Let’s see if we can reinforce that lesson.” I pressed it, sending a low, steady hum through the plug. Your whole body tensed.
“Stay still,” I ordered. “Don’t you dare move that hips.” I increased the intensity, watching as the vibrations traveled through you. Your muffled whimpers were music to my ears. I watched you fight against your own body, the instinct to buck and grind warring with the need to obey my command. Your muscles quivered with the effort.
“Please…” you begged, your voice muffled by the sheets.
“Please what?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft. I gave the base of the plug a sharp twist, drawing a sharp gasp from you. “Please stop? Or please let you come? Be specific.”
“Please… please let me come, Sir,” you sobbed, the fight leaving your body as a tremor wracked your frame.
I laughed, a low, dark sound. “Oh, no. Not tonight. Tonight is about denial. Tonight is about understanding that your body belongs to me. Your pleasure belongs to me. And I say you don’t get to come again until I’m good and ready to let you.”
I turned the plug up to its highest setting, a relentless, pulsing rhythm that I knew would edge you endlessly without ever quite pushing you over. Your cries became desperate, frantic.
I lay down beside you, my hand resting possessively on the small of your back, feeling the vibrations coursing through your body. “Now, you’re going to lie here like this,” I said, my voice calm and firm. “You’re going to feel that plug, you’re going to feel the ache in your nipples from the clamps I left on, and you’re going to feel the ache in your cunt for an orgasm you’re not going to get. And when you finally fall asleep from exhaustion, you’ll dream of me. And tomorrow, when I untie you, we’ll see if you’ve learned your lesson.”
I watched you in the dim light of the room, your body a taut bowstring of need and frustration. Your breath hitched, your fingers clenching and unclenching into fists behind your back. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And I knew, with a certainty that thrilled me to my core, that tomorrow would be even better.
