The Clock
I looked at the wall ahead of me and on it was a big black clock and you could hear the ticking sound so loud in the room... I watched the minute hand as it patiently began another round in its journey to nowhere. "How much longer?" I thought. I could hear the twisting noises of the leather as I tested the restraints yet again. The soft black bands held firm, keeping my body immobile and bound in a state of erotic denial. Denial of the pleasures of my own touch and denial of the need I had for any sort of physical relief.
For the time being my mind would be be my only friend, and the source of my greatest sexual torment. I tried to think of other things. Anything to stop the flood of sensual thoughts that ran through my mind as I stood there needing Him. I tried to distract myself but it was impossible. The walls of the chamber saw to that. It's walls plastered with an assortment of toys and equipment that He had used on me so many times before. Each one holding in its own memories. My naked body pressed further against the dark stained wood of the X-frame that held me erect. My arms high, my legs spread wide. My body exposed to whatever teasings He desired to do to my most sensitive areas.
I felt myself dripping with juices that betrayed my body as the minute hand moved once more. How bad I needed his touch. My mind was flooded with memories of his delicate teasing caresses. How many times had he watched my body pull madly against the bonds. Enjoying my erotic torment as I sat tied to a chair or hanging helpless from eyebolts so carefully attached to the ceiling as He practiced his art of keeping my body on the brink of orgasm for hours at a time. My nipples and clit becoming so swelled from excitement that his mere breath alone would send my body convulsing in passionate bliss.
If only he would whip me, it would be a gift. Even the pain of the lash would be a release. A way for my body to escape from the torments of his soft teasings. I knew it was never to be; my mind was the most adept punisher I would ever know. A traitor to my body. Bringing to me the joys of restrained pleasure. Pleasures I needed badly but could only be achieved through the tight bonds of his ropes and gags. To be his prisoner was the only desire I needed... my only need. I knew that soon he would come through the door, and begin the game again. He would start as always with his slow lickings. The lickings had become a ritual. Starting at my toes. Tiny flicks, with a patience that was maddening. Then ever so slowly his wet teasings would begin their upwards journey over my bound body. By the time he would get to my thighs I would be squirming in my bindings, begging for his touch. I knew this was the level of pleasure I would remain at for quite some time. A delicate flower was the last thing he had in mind of teasing.
I strained against the tight leather bands as the memories flooded over me. Moving my hips as much as the restraints would allow in a vain attempt for some sort of caress. If I could get the leather to brush against my clit, I knew that it would be enough to give me some relief. The bindings held firm, my hips moved. As small trickles of juices ran down my inner thighs. I looked down between my breasts, I could barely see the tip of my mound, l threw my head back and moaned softly. The clock clicked again.
My mind raced with sensual thoughts, knowing my body would pay the price. I recalled the dinner we shared in the crowded restaurant. The small butterfly vibrator so delicately hid under my panties. His smile as he toyed with the remote control in his pocket. Alternating between a slow gentle teasing to a mind blowing high of electric joy. I tried to keep calm as the other patrons went about their meals. Giving no signal to the pleasures I felt inside me. It was torture. My body shook in ecstasy, my hips straining as I remembered whispered pleas to him that we forget the meal. The answer given was a full ten minutes more on the butterflies slowest speed. They would even stay for a lingering dessert. I moaned loudly. My head spinning from thought after thought of the dinner. The trip home and the lovemaking that followed. Even now my pussy was dripping from the memories of cumming weeks old. An orgasm that defined forever in my mind the meaning of passion and loyalty.
It had worked; my body stiffened against the leather, the wood creaking as my body was thrown into wave after wave of pleasure. My moans loud; my hands clenched from an orgasm derived only from memories alone. I rested in the bonds exhausted. Skin glistening from the sweat of my own passions. The leather straps that encircled my thighs darkened by the juices that had wet them. Weakly smiling and enjoyed the solitude of the moment. I could hear him coming up the stairs. My head raised slightly, eyes bright in anticipation. Comforted by the clicking of the clock, that still watches over me while I wait. I watched the door knob turn as Master opened the door slowly... I knew the minute he looked at me he would know I had cum.. Something I was not to do... In the back ground I could hear the clock as it ticked... One second at a time... As I watched the knob turn on the door... It seemed like it took forever for it to open...
Story submitted by vertigo_blues06