N Morley: Packing Heat: Femdom Strap-On Stories

“I think it’s worse.”

“I know,” she said happily. “Aren’t I evil?”

“What’s to stop me from jerking off in the meantime?”

She made a disgusted noise; she took pride in her psychic powers that allowed her to detect recent male orgasms.

“I can’t do two months, and we have to do it before the trip.”

“Too bad, and no ,” she said.

“My prostate will swell!”

“Fine, then. Let’s say monthly handjobs.”

“Monthly!”

She cackled. “You’ve already said yes , baby. Now we’re just arguing details…”

We argued details, all right… well into the night, and with great exactitude. Trina had me pussy-whipped in ways I’d never even dreamed. My body responded to her demands and my brain conjured up intricate, vivid images of her promises. By the end of the night I’d agreed to totally forgo masturbation entirely, and orgasm with two exceptions. Trina would give me a blowjob when I got home from my trip in three days. And she would give me a handjob four weeks after that, “To make sure your, whatever, prostate doesn’t swell or whatever.” Other than that, I said I’d go dry until the halfway point of the Tahoe trip.

“Once I’ve put up with your friends and enjoyed myself for half the trip—I want what I’m owed .”

“Ooooh, so forceful,” chortled Trina mockingly. “You mean, like, down to the hour?”

“Down to the minute,” I growled.

“Dirty,” she said. “You know everyone bunks together.”

“Tough,” I said. “We’ll lock the door.”

“All right,” she said. “But I’m not going celibate.”

“Fine,” I said.

“And I’m not taking matters into my own hand.”

“What, you’re going to go two months without masturbating?”

Trina’s voice had that Dominant quality as she said, “If you want my ass, darling, then for the next two months I shouldn’t have to masturbate.”

My cock was throbbing at this point. I could barely keep my eyes from crossing.

“You expect me to fuck you and not come?”

“Darling, of course not. That would be cruel. Besides, I wouldn’t trust you. After a week you’d blow your load on my thigh. You have to get me off another way.”

“What way?”

She said coyly: “ One way.”

“How?” I growled.

“Every single day,” she said.

“How?” I growled.

“In this one particular way.”

“How?”

“Once a day, if I want it.”

“Okay.”

“ And once a night. This one particular way.”

“Trina, how ?”

She told me.

She could be a very dirty girl, my Trina.

“What if I come?” I asked her. This was the clincher.

“What, accidentally ?”

“Sure,” I said. “Or if you make me.”

“Well,” she sighed. “If I’m teasing the hell out of you and I accidentally get you off, then… let’s just start the clock all over, shall we?”

“Ugh,” I said. “I should have known. Are you trying to trick me?”

“Darling, trust me. I’d never get you off intentionally. That would be evil. But of course, if you jerk off or something, or let yourself, you know… while you’re doing things to me…”

That’s when Trina’s imagination really got going. She showed what she’s made of. She showed that this tease and denial stuff is just the start of her pervy Domme-y games.

I still can’t believe I agreed to get my ass fucked if Trina’s not the one who makes me come.

But then, by the time she talked me into taking my hand off my cock and not coming that night… I was more than just pussy-whipped. She had me wrapped around her finger.

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I wanted that ass, almost as bad as Trina wanted to give it to me. She wanted a chaste little boyfriend who’d play at being wrapped around her finger. It looked like we could both get what we wanted.

But why did I finally let my velvet-voiced girlfriend talk me into taking my hand off my cock at the end of our conversation… and leave it off, rather than coming on that very last night before my “sentence” began?

I’ll admit it. I wanted to hear her sexy voice tell me, “Good boy.”

I got my homecoming blowjob. I got my “monthly” handjob, after a month of horny teasing, suffering, blue balls to end all blue balls. Getting off has never felt so good.

And Trina got my tongue in her ass, deep in her ass, me rimming her hard and hungry and horny while she rode her vibrator till she came. Progressively, she started moving my hand insistently onto the vibe, and then letting me “drive” so she could clutch at the sheets and push her face into the pillow to stifle her cries of pleasure, and push her ass high in the air while I obediently rode her.

For two months, she’s been offered daily and nightly rim jobs from me, with steadily growing enthusiasm as I got used to the task and started to like it… then to really like it. She almost always exercises her option. She’s been getting deep, eager lickings while I try very hard not to reach down and stroke my cock and come all over her feet.

Which would be a disaster , since that would put me in the position of… well, of having to be the one who gets fucked. If it sounds like a sick twist of an “indecent proposal,” well… that’s because it is.

I never thought I’d be such a subby little slave… and all because of Trina’s perfect ass.

How did I come to this? How did I find myself more turned on by trying not to come than I ever did from trying to come? How did I find myself with my tongue in my girlfriend’s ass, worshipping her perfect butt with my mouth, all so I could slide my dick inside it when after two months—a month, I guess, allowing for that solitary handjob—I was so addicted to the high of constant arousal that I almost didn’t want to come?

For two months, in return for her back door virginity, Trina got daily, nightly, sometimes thrice-daily rim jobs with vibe in hand, or in my hand, a state of affairs that became constant as my licking became more enthusiastic, deeper, and more of a turn-on… for me, as much as for her. In the last two months, Trina’s ass has become central not just to my fantasy of fucking her ass… but to the whole of my sexuality.

Afternoon, evening, and sometimes morning, I eat her ass with great enthusiasm and a vibrator in my hand.

Which is exactly what I’m doing when Emily walks in on us.

Maybe “accidentally,” on purpose.

How it happens is this:

Trina leads me into the bedroom.

One of her thumbs is hooked through the waistband of my shorts, very close to my dick.

She slams the door behind us and drops to her knees; she has my shorts on the floor before I know what’s hit me. My jockeys, all tangled up with L.L. Bean cotton, glisten with what looks like a pint of slimy, shiny pre-come.

Trina teases me. She loves to do this; she gets off on teasing me. She does it as often as she can. But this time she’s totally out of control; she’s got me wrapped around her finger. I’d drink her bathwater. She uses her mouth to torment me. Trina doesn’t really suck my cock, because she knows if she did I’d pop fast . She just breathes all over it, licks a little, drizzles, drools, flickers her tongue.

It’s torture.

A month since my last come—and that from a handjob —Trina’s breath and the tiny gentle flicker of her tongue is almost enough to get me off. It’s surely enough to make my eyes roll back and my mouth pop open and little pathetic squeaks of agonized pleasure come leaking from my tormented body. But in case that’s not enough to really make me suffer the delicious torment Trina so gets off on, she lets her tongue slide out and runs it gently up my shaft, over my head, lapping pre-come from my tip and looking up at me with big blue eyes and mewling, “Will you shoot it up my ass ?” while she caresses my balls—and then grabs them, pulls them, kneads them. I just about lose it , hands flailing—I can’t decide whether to grab her shoulders and push her away, or grab her hair and shove her mouth onto my cock. Would that count as her making me come, or me making me come?