Delaying sex to make her more horny

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’d hoped to get Richard drunk on daquiris and seduce him Tuesday night. To no avail. A few minutes after posting my wicked plans, I passed out face down on the couch. Honestly, he must have slipped something into my drink because no way do I get drunk that easily. Or maybe the long day had weakened my tolerance…

I woke up to the dog barking. Richard came over because I was so confused and gently helped me up. I couldn’t figure out what time or day it was. He finally managed to get me upstairs, where I proceeded to fall face first on the bed.

He took off my clothes and tucked me into bed.

I woke up in the morning feeling fine. We sleep in spoons, with my ass in his lap and his arms around me, holding my wrists in his hands. I wiggled around and snuggled up under his arm. He pulled me closer.

I started kissing his neck and nibbling on his chest and shoulders. He squeezed me tighter but didn’t open his eyes.

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I rubbed my chest against his. This usually works to wake him up. Today he just caressed me lightly for a moment then fell back asleep.

I flipped over and wiggled my ass against his belly. That woke him up.

“What are you doing, little girl?” he said groggily.

I giggled. He grabbed me by the hip and pulled me closer. I ground into him.

He groaned and buried his face in my hair. I could feel him nuzzling the back of my neck. His hand reached around to my breasts. He caressed them gently then began playing with my nipples.

But after a couple of minutes he fell back asleep!

This was challenging. I really needed him to fuck me. After a couple of minutes of fruitlessly rubbing and wiggling and snuggling, I knew that I had to do something more.

“Would you please spank me?”

“What?”

“Please spank me Richard. I really need a spanking.”

“Really? You WANT a spanking?”

“Yes please.”

He was wide awake.

“Roll over.”

“Yes sir.”

I rolled over. Then I got nervous.

“I don’t need a HARD spanking. Just a LITTLE spanking is fine.”

“Oh really.”

He began smacking my bottom, moving from side to side.

“Oh! Yes, just a little. Oh!”

“You want to decide how much spanking you get?”

He smacked a bit harder, and then he stayed in one place for a few smacks. That hurts worse.

I didn’t want to answer that question. Yes, of course I want to decide. But if I say that, will I get in more trouble? Probably. I kept quiet. Well, except for the inadvertent squeaks when he smacked me particularly hard.

But then he stopped and rolled me over and looked into my eyes.

“I like spanking you.”

“Yes.” (I know that, that’s why I asked him to spank me. I was hoping it would get me laid.)

He reached out, took my hand and placed it on his cock. His hard cock.

“I really like spanking you.”

“Ooooohhhh.”

And then, before I had time to think, he flipped me back onto my belly, hauled my ass into the air and slammed his cock into me. And it just got better from there.

So I did seduce him, eventually. No thanks to the daquiris.

She wanted to get fucked so bad

Minor surgery last week left me in the unusual situation where I am not supposed to have sex for at least two weeks. No sex, and preferably, no orgasms.

Preferably according to the doctor, that is.

Amy suggested that she not cum over the next two weeks as well, to share what I am going through.

No.

At first, it sounded like a nice experiment in orgasm denial for both of us, but I like making Amy cum. So she doesn’t want to this week, but I have the delicious pleasure of making her cum when she is objecting to it. Well, objecting to a point. Once I play with her nipples long and hard enough, she’s not sentient enough to form a coherent objection any more, unless you count the word “No.”

Which I don’t.

I woke her up sometime Sunday night, and played with her until she came. No surprise there, but since I hadn’t cum I just let her sleep a few hours, then woke her again. This time she woke up kind of cranky, wanting to sleep and thinking that since I couldn’t fuck her anyway, why was I bothering?

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Whatever.

I used her for a long time that second time, finally letting her cum and she fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted in my arms.

Naturally, I wanted very much to fuck her, but without that option, I simply enjoyed my control over her, and the satisfaction of her wild and sexually helpless under my touch. I knew she wanted to fuck, so I hand fucked her, which worked well enough as a substitute, but only just.

Later that morning, after we were up on the couch some time after breakfast, she cuddled under a blanket to ward off the chill in the house, and began talking about how she liked having a smooth pussy, just freshly epilated.

We talked about her pussy for a while, with Amy playing with it a little, until she began masturbating with me watching.

Wonderful.

I began to consider just how many orgasms Amy could have in a day, not counting the multiple smaller ones she often has. These were the big ones, stunning tremors that leave her speechless and shuddering, sweat slicked and exhausted as I touch and hold her afterwards.

We went upstairs later, and began to play again. Amy whimpered and begged for me not to make her play anymore, withh the usual effect.

This time her orgasm triggered a migraine, which took some care and time to alleviate, and combined with another unforseen circumstance, ended our play for the day. But there seemed to be no sign that she couldn’t cum again, and every time I begin to tweak her nipples she begins to writhe and moan. I’m starting to think she has an infinite resevoir of orgasms, which could explain why she’s always ready to fuck, a trait that I enjoy immensely. This is the first time I’ve made her cum four times in a day; it won’t be the last. I’m not worried about number crunching, but if she can cum more often than I had realized, I want to explore just how extreme I can get with controlling her sexual pleasures.

We haven’t fucked all week, and previously we haven’t gone more thqan 24 hours without fucking, and rarely more than 6 to 8 hours, so this circumstance is very brand new for us. This morning Amy was stroking and holding my cock, whining a little because she wanted to be fucked so bad, and it’s still a week away before I can sink it into her pussy once again.

Well, sort of.

I can’t fuck her hard, not right now.

But I see no problem in slipping my hard cock into her, and tonight I plan to force her lovely mouth down over my cock for some delicate face fucking, as much as I can take anyway, because I am still sensitive from the surgery.

Would have been a perfect week for making her fuck someone else.

It’s certainly been a good week for making her cum against her will, with my hands teasing her nipples, pussy and ass into a state where she suddenly can’t resist her own sexual needs. And cums. And cums again.

And while I won’t yet be cumming in her pretty body any time soon, I’ll still be able to enjoy watching her helpless and in the throes of her own orgasm.

Very, very satisfying.

Amy’s breasts

I write this in bed tonight, in the dark. Amy lies beside me nude, the duvet pulled down to her waist, her soft breasts bare in the pale light and her nipples semi erect. I stroke her breasts very, very lightly, feeling their softness, the firmness of her nipples. Even in her sleep just the slightest touch makes them harden.

I can’t touch them like this; not when she is awake.

The slightest touching of her breasts, let alone her nipples, sends her into immediate arousal. Touch them for more than a few seconds, and she begins to writhe and grind and whimper, so much that in can be hard to even keep contact with her breasts as she lies beside me in the bed, squirming and heating up quickly with desire.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

I swear, her breasts have a direct connection to her clitoris. She has a phenomenal sex drive as it is, and with such sensitive and responsive breasts it’s hard not to keep sending her into a state of eager and compliant arousal.

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Amy compelled to pull her t-shirt up and show her breasts

Amy has learned that she has two kinds of orgasms. The first is an all encompassing clitoral orgasm that leaves her exhausted and satisfied. The second type is less focused on clitoral stimulation, and milder, without relieving the urge for the first type. This second type can come repeatedly, sometimes without even touching her. There have been instances when she has been very aroused, and something I say can send her into this second type of orgasm.

With extended breast play, Amy can go through multiple orgasms. Oral sex especially sends her into one long orgasmic plateau. When aroused, she has no idea how many she has had, nor how long she has been having sex. I have no idea either, as I don’t know when she is having them. I am aware of when she suddenly holds her breath while I am playing with her clitoris, but I don’t know if that exactly corresponds with her minor orgasms.

Her big orgasms are always solo; she doesn’t have multiples of those. When I first started playing with her, I couldn’t identify those either. Amy would just go very still, and hold her breath, not making a sound. She focused entirely on the sensations washing over her, but to an outside observer, it looked like nothing was happening at all.

Lately, during her big orgasms, she has been moaning ever so slightly, and rocking a little from side to side. Still not much demonstration of the powerful sensations she describes rushing over her, but more evident than before, if just barely.

I have teased her about becoming my anal slut. She hates that, and resists the idea very strongly. The other night, I held her in my arms, and ever so slowly, began to separate her ass cheeks, and slowly stimulated her ass hole. Her hips betrayed her arousal, and when I whispered in her ear about fucking her ass, she came twice, the little orgasms that don’t relieve desire.

She is not happy with the implications of that.

How I chained my girlfriend

The chains took me by surprise.

Three chains, very simple, very light, medium length.

Got them at PetSmart.

One links her wrist cuffs to each other, the other links her ankles together, like a horse hobble, and the third loops through her collar, and has a padlock dangling at the end between her breasts.

I kept her in them for the evening, that first time, and took her to bed in them. I could easily control her body as I played with her, by holding the chains, and found her easy to arouse, and found myself actually indifferent to her pleasure or pain. A very different feeling; I’ve always thought of pleasure and pain as ways to control her, but in the chains, I found little desire to ether give her pleasure, or pain.

Hard to explain, but her pleasure and pain didn’t matter – she was just “there” to use, to fuck.

I talked to her about it a little bit, then I fucked her like she was a stranger, some beautiful woman bound and placed in my bed that I would never see again, a woman I had no relationship with, a woman who didn’t matter. Just a pretty body to use for pleasure.

Disconcerting. No reason, then to hurt her, and none to pleasure her.

I fucked her at a different angle, the ankle chains keeping her thighs closer together than usual, and she responded to the new sensation of this penetration with obvious pleasure. Of course it didn’t matter.

I had told her I would not let her cum. I fucked her, and took her chained and aroused body in my arms. She wanted to cum, but I wouldn’t let her.

We talked after, about the emotional disconnect from each other, and how it made her seem more owned and helpless, and yet more distant. Closer, and yet further away.

I think it is that the chains amplify how I am feeling, rather than simply bringing in a whole new set of feelings.

I am sure I will want to hurt her while she is chained. We will see.

Why being chained is the hottest thing

Two evenings in a row I’ve worn chains. We are both surprised by the strength of our response to them. I hope Richard will talk about his feelings separately.

Night before last (which I wrote about in the post below), I asked Richard to take off my chains after we had been in bed a couple of hours. I had a bad headache and they were making it hard to sleep.

Last night I was surprised when Richard told me to get my chains. He loves variety and we seldom do the same thing two days running – shibari, corset training, spanking, face fucking, etc. – all of those happen once or twice and then something new catches his fancy in the short term.

The mood was very different from the night before. We watched a movie (Honeymoon in Vegas), then sat on the couch and talked for a couple of hours. Well, Richard sat. I lay with my feet in his lap. We were talking desultorily, joking, Richard was rubbing my feet on and off. In other words, not a highly charged, D/s erotic mood.

Around 11 pm he said it was time for bed and we headed upstairs. He didn’t take off my chains. He didn’t fuck me. He just pulled me to him and we fell asleep.

 

I woke up around 5:30 feeling very…different. Richard was still asleep; usually he wakes up before me. I laid there, quietly watching him. I needed to go to the bathroom, but I never thought of asking him and I didn’t think of getting up and going without permission. I just waited.

After about 15 minutes, he woke up. He didn’t smile at me, like he usually does. Maybe because I wasn’t smiling, like I usually am. He just stared at me with his beautiful eyes. After a minute or so, he pulled me up against his chest. I still needed to pee, but I didn’t say anything. About 10 minutes passed.

“You need to go pee. Go.”

So I went. He watched me walk slowly across the bedroom, careful not to trip on my leg chains. On the way, I tried to think about how I felt. I always feel submissive to Richard, always. This was different. I felt…passive is the best word I can think of. I wasn’t going to disturb him to ask permission; I waited until it occurred to him. I think I would have waited a long time.

When I came back to bed, Richard rolled me onto my back and pulled my hands above my head by the chain attached to my wrist restraints. He played with my breasts for a while, rolling my nipples between his fingers and pulling. I started making little noises in my throat, and my hips started moving of their own accord. He slid his hand between my legs and began playing with my clit.

Sometimes when I become aroused, the intensity of it causes me to pull away. I tried to roll away from Richard, but he pressed down with the palm of his hand, never taking his fingers from my clit. I tried to pull my hands down to cover myself, but he wrapped the chain around his fist and pinned my wrists more securely above my head.

My attempts to free myself were clearly hopeless. There was nothing I could do to make him stop. He could do anything he wanted to me. I stopped fighting and quieted down. When he told me to masturbate, I did without a sound. I came, and he fucked me, without any talking, without words. It was so intense, so different, almost like being fucked by a stranger.

Writing this, I finally understand what was so different for me. Yes, I am submissive to Richard. I’m submissive all day, every day, in the bedroom and out. I have never disobeyed him. But I always have that option. I always have the option to say no, to leave, to quit. When I am in chains, that is no longer true. Richard can do whatever he wants, and I can’t stop him. I am truly at his mercy.

Hot.

I got chained by my master

I came in from work this evening, showered and changed into a sarong. Richard likes me wearing just a sarong, tied around my hips, when I’m at home. He put on my collar.

Later I tied on my new jingle skirt (I call it) that I use for belly dance class. I looove how it sounds when I move.

Then Richard brought out some new toys that he got yesterday. (He wouldn’t tell me what they were and I have been squirming about it for 24 hours straight.)

First he put on my leather wrist restraints, and locked a chain between them. He gave me enough slack to work on my laptop. (Thank you, Sir.)

He put on new ankle restraints, and locked a slightly longer chain between them.

He locked a short chain onto the front of my collar.

He sat back to look at me, reached out and grabbed my collar chain, pulled me to him with a growl and kissed me roughly.

“It’s a short leash. I like you on a short leash.”

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He handed me the packaging from the locks and told me to throw it away in the kitchen. The leg chain didn’t stop me from taking normal steps, but it was easy to trip on, so I had to walk very slowly and carefully. He watched me the whole way there and back.

When I came back, I curled up against him. I was a tiny bit scared he was going to make me sit at his feet. I was already feeling a bit overwhelmed by my chains, and when I’m feeling nervous or insecure I like to be as close to him as possible. So I nuzzled up against his chest quietly and hoped. But I think he was too happy looking at me and hearing me jingle to make me sit on the floor, so I’m still up on the couch.

Occasionally he reaches over and pulls me to him by my leash, then kisses me or fondles my breasts. I’m so happy to be next to him.

The only thing marring my happiness is the nipple clamps sitting in a heap on the coffee table. I’m hoping he’s forgotten about them…

How to manhandle a cocktease

My girl is a tease.

She’s very playful all the time, but tends to curtail that playfulness sexually. In bed anyways.

Not anymore.

I woke up groggy the other morning, with a velvet hand stroking my nether parts to firm attention. The sudden shift of blood to a region well away from my brain did nothing to decrease my foggy state of mind. Suddenly, Amy lifted herself up and over me, carefully lowering herself with a big playful smile onto my cock.

Well.

She leans forward, with her wonderful 38D breasts right in my face, and begins some very slow movements with her hips. Very slow, very teasing.

I make a few thrusts up into her, and with the third thrust she rises up into the air, preventing my cock from actually driving into her. She begins the slow movements again, which I savor, until I give her a few deep upward thrusts, which she teasingly interrupts again by rising up out of reach, matching my motions with a playful movement that keeps my cock poised just inside her pussy, and no deeper.

Plus she pulls her breasts out of reach and away from my mouth from time to time.

Devilishly wicked, and very wonderfully sensual.

Every so often I simply grab her hips, and hold her in place while I fuck her from below for a few moments, before I allow her to continue teasing me again.

She’s sexy.

And smiling the whole time, except when she gets a little overcome by the sensations herself.

Eventually, the teasing session evolves into her getting flipped onto her back on the bed, and seriously fucked hard.

As she should be.

Spanking while being sick

I have a really bad cold. I am coughing and wheezing and miserable. Last night Richard took pity on me and told me that we weren’t going to play, even though the kids were gone for the first time in five days. He took me to bed early, pulled me into his arms, and said “Go to sleep, baby.”

He said I was asleep in seconds.

This morning I woke, as I often do, to him playing with my breasts. He pinched my nipples and I moaned. His hand slipped between my closed legs.

“Open.”

“Wider.”

As he played with my clit, my hips began to move and when he slipped a finger inside me, I shuddered.

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“I know you’re not feeling good. But I want to play with you. You don’t have to do anything. Fall back asleep if you’d like.”

Then he began to explore my body with his hands and his mouth, slowly.

It felt heavenly and I did start to drift off a few times. But then he began to play with my ass, and I woke up. He slid his thumb into my ass, and then he slid a couple of fingers into my pussy.

Oooooh, it felt nice. I moved my hips a tiny bit, but he didn’t respond. He just kept his hand in place, thumb in my ass, fingers in my pussy, fingers resting against my clit.

After a while, I dozed off a bit, but then I woke to him fucking me with his fingers. This time when I moaned, he pulled his fingers out, flipped me over and slid his cock into me.

He fucked me for a while, while telling me that he was sorry that I was sick, that he knew I was too tired to want to fuck, but that he wanted to, so too bad. Then he pulled out and told me to masturbate. I whimpered and said I was too tired. I wouldn’t be able to cum.

“OK. If you don’t want to masturbate, that’s fine. I’ll hurt you instead. You know hurting you turns me on too.”

“Nonononono! I’ll masturbate! I will!”

“Too late. Now I’m excited about hurting you.”

So he did. I had thought I was safe from being hurt for a while. He doesn’t want to make any bruises right now, because he wants to take pictures over the next few days and he says bruises take too long to Photoshop out.

He reached over to my right nipple and twisted it, hard. I squeaked and tried to pull away. He held me down and kept twisting.

“Oh God, I love hurting you. Look how hard I am already.”

He pulled my hand down to his cock, which was rock hard. Then he reached for my left nipple and twisted it. Hard. He had me pinned down, so I was bucking but couldn’t get away.

“I’m going to fuck you while I’m hurting you.”

He rolled on top of me and slipped in easily. If I’m not a masochist, why does it make me so wet when he hurts me? Gah.

As he was fucking me, he was staring into my eyes. His eyes are really scary when he gets like this.

“I don’t want to give you any bruises right now. So I think I’ll take your air away. That doesn’t leave bruises.”

He pinched my nose shut, and clamped down with his mouth on mine. I was pleading and twisting and struggling to get away, which only turned him on more. It felt like hours before he let go. Then he did it again. Then he paused.

“Do you think maybe you could masturbate now?”

“Yes. Please. Please let me masturbate.”

I masturbated for him. But unfortunately, once he gets into “hurty” mode, he doesn’t come out of it easily. So while I masturbated, he continued to pinch and pull my nipples and then he bit them! That hurts so bad! I begged him not to bite and he laughed.

“Fine, I’ll choke you instead. But don’t you dare stop masturbating or I’ll hurt you worse.”

He put his hands around my neck and slowly increased the pressure. If he felt me slow down, he’d remind me that he would hurt me much worse if I stopped.

I came with his hands around my neck. What have I become?

Do I have permission to go peeing?

I didn’t usually say *why* I needed to leave, and after a couple of weeks, one time when I asked permission he said “Do you need to go pee?”

“Um, yes.”

“Well, then say ‘May I please go pee?'”

Long pause. Inner wrestling.

Head down, “May I please go pee?”

“Yes, you may.”

After that, I had to ask to go pee, rather than simply ask permission to leave the computer.

I got used to it.

As you know, if I get used to something, Richard ramps it up.

One day he said “Go pee now.”

“What?!”

“Go pee. You haven’t gone for a while. You can go pee, can’t you?”

Unfortunately, my tiny bladder would not allow me to lie. I could. I did. But on the way, Richard says I shot him a look of pure hatred.

I had hoped that Richard would no longer want me to ask permission to pee when we were together. A vain hope.

(He also used to make me strip for him on cam, and began having me masturbate on cam. That was hellishly difficult for me. I do not miss that, now that we are together 24/7. He still makes me masturbate for him, but it’s not as difficult when he is holding me.)

After a week or so of asking permission to pee, I actually began to like it. It reminded me, each time I asked, of our commitment, of my promise of total submission and obedience. It reminded me that Richard controlled everything; he could decide when and what I eat, what I drink, what I wear, everything. (Mostly he isn’t interested in micro-managing that way, but sometimes…)

It’s tricky to ask permission to pee when other people are around. I’ve become quite creative about how to ask. “Do you mind if I excuse myself for a minute?” “Anyone using the bathroom right now? Mind if I do?” And the ever useful head nod toward the bathroom, coupled with a quizzical look.

Mostly Richard magnanimously allows me to go pee when I ask. Occasionally he makes me wait. That is really frustrating and really hot. One time it was because he wanted to fuck me first (we were in bed). Another time it was because he knew I was irritated with him and was trying to escape discussing it by leaving the room. So he said no. I insisted that I really needed to go RIGHT NOW. He said no. I pouted at him. He said no. Then he gently returned to our discussion, not allowing me to go to the bathroom until our disagreement was resolved.

Recently he has followed me into the bathroom and watched me while I peed. Ack. It takes me a few seconds before I can, because I’m shy about him watching. Which he loves, naturally.

He’s been observing when I usually need to pee, and now he’ll tell me to instead of wait for me to ask. It makes me feel very controlled, which is way hot to me. That’s not surprising, given that being owned and controlled is what turns me on sexually.

Maybe more surprisingly, it also makes me feel precious to him, and cherished, and valued. Certainly no other man has found me interesting enough to observe me so closely, to want to know me this well. And this, I think, may be the big attraction of D/s to many women: to have a lover who is this focused and interested in her.

I feel blessed. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Even if I do have to ask permission to go pee.

I am his slave

One last look, for the moment, at the word slave, with definitions found through Google.

“Noun

1. slave – a person who is owned by someone

2. slave – someone entirely dominated by some influence or person;

“A person who is held in bondage to another; one who is wholly subject to the will of another; one who is held as a chattel; one who has no freedom of action, but whose person and services are wholly under the control of another.

“One who has lost the power of resistance; one who surrenders himself to any power whatever; as, a slave to passion, to lust, to strong drink, to ambition.”

As you have seen before in a post by Amy, she has some real problems with the word “slave”, and isn’t comfortable with the very harsh reality of slavery, as contrasted with the kind of relationship that we have.

I’ll leave it to you to decide your own feelings about the word “slave.” There is enough flexibility in the various definitions for me.

I see a state of mind.

Namely, that Amy has lost the power of resistance, has surrendered herself, and is entirely dominated and owned.

Works for me.

“A slave has no choice” African Proverb