Blissful Torment

"Master, please!" she wailed, out of breath.

"Please what?" he replied, gently rocking back and forth, his pelvis rubbing against her throbbing clit.

"Please, … can I … cum?" she pressed through clenched teeth. Her whole body was tense and squirming. She had not yet had an orgasm this year, and it was already end of February. At least in January she had been enjoying (somewhat) regular ruins.

What had not stopped was the daily edging; those sessions had only gotten longer and more intense. What had begun with just a handful of edges had soon turned into one or even two hours of teasing. Every day he had been adding more and more to her schedule, often leaving her a dripping mess at the end of a day, only to wake up painfully horny and do it all over.

Today, Sunday, her clit had already suffered thirty-seven hard edges (not that she had been able to keep count), she had sucked him off and swallowed a load, and then spent another hour with dildos and vibrators -- All of that with her butt plugged by her new, fat and very heavy metal toy. The word 'desperate' was a great description of her mental state, and had been for quite a while.

Right now he was fucking her gently in missionary position, tied spread-eagle to the bed. He could feel her cunt quiver around his erection. Every thrust required all her willpower just to not go over.

"You want to cum? Didn't I tell you not to ask?" he queried, his voice mocking and accusing.

"Yes… Sorry! But… I … please! I can't! Please!!" With him slowly fucking her, she was unable to concentrate enough to produce proper phrases. She knew she was not supposed to ask, but she was about to break. It wasn't that she wanted an orgasm so much as that her body needed it.

"It's alright," he cooed, "You did well. I think it's time for you to have orgasms again."

Just announcing it nearly made her go over. Her soreness was forgotten. She started up at him, biting her lip, eyes begging. "Now?" she croaked, knowing fully well she would not be able to hold back even if he denied her again.

"Yes. You can cum now," he replied, as he picked up the pace and started fucking her in earnest.

She closed her eyes and let herself go. Her pussy all but turned to goo as she felt the heat rush through her body like a wave, the climax taking her breath away and blanking her mind. He did not stop fucking her and grinding into her clit. The way her pussy clenched tightly around his cock was delightful.

Before her orgasm had fully ebbed, she felt herself already reaching another peak. "Can I cum again?" she quickly asked, acutely aware that she had only been allowed one orgasm. 

"Yes, you may. In fact, whenever you ask me for an orgasm, I want you to have one." The words whispered directly into her ear, his heavy frame pressing down onto her.

As many orgasms as she wanted? -- She could barely believe it. Orgasms had been incredibly rare for a very long time. Usually he only let her have one, and then immediately went back to tease and denial, and a few hours after she would already be begging for more.

The second climax shook her. If she had not been tied down, she probably would have scratched her master. No orgasm in recent memory came even close in intensity.

"Oh, that seemed to be a good one," he growled, his cock still sliding in and out of her quivering cunt. "One more for the road?"

She was gulping down air like a drowning person. Her crotch was on fire, in a good way. Her arms and legs were tingling. One more? 

"Yes, please. … Can I have another orgasm?" she asked, throat already hoarse.

"Of course," he replied, and adjusted his position, reaching between her legs, and started rubbing her clit.

"Ooooh…" was all she managed. The third orgasm made her shake and scream, but he kept going anyway. They both knew she loved it intense, and she soon asked for another. At number four she started to plateau - still eruptive, but it seemed her body was getting tired. He pressed on, grabbing a vibrator from the nightstand, and pushing it deep into her clit.

Even though she was starting to exhaust, she wanted a fifth one, mostly because of how unusual this was to her. It took some effort to get her there and the result was a bit mediocre, truth be told. He pulled out of her, dribbling gooey pussy juices onto the sheets, and made her have a drink, all sweaty and dehydrated.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

"Oh, we're not done," he murmured in reply.

She gave him a relaxed look. "Do you want me to suck your cock again?" she asked.

"Oh no, not at all," he responded, taking their strongest vibe from the cupboard. It was a first-generation magic wand, and could probably do as a cement mixer in a pinch. "I want you to ask me for another orgasm."

"I… really? But… I am satisfied," she said, swallowing dryly despite having just drunk a glass of water.

"I said: Ask me for another orgasm," he stated, voice authoritative, expression strict.

She took a deep breath. Her crotch was still throbbing. Even without seeing it, she knew her clit was a bright red swollen nub.

"Can I… have another … orgasm, please?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Of course. As I said, every time you ask, you will have one," With that, he turned the vibrator on, and held it against her clit.

The sensation made her jump. To call it a mixed bag would be an understatement. It was really just torture. She buckled in her restraints. But the toy did its job marvellously, and only a short while later she felt herself panting, nearing the edge again. Without fanfare, he made her go over.

"Ask again."

"I would … like … another orgasm," she grunted. It was a lie, but what choice did she have? She would have to keep asking for more until he stopped telling her to. This was not how she imagined it to go.

The seventh and eight orgasms came soon, much quicker than she thought possible. Nine took quite a while, and when it arrived it was just a hiccup. For the tenth she had to focus on actually getting there, feeling mostly numb and exhausted.

Finally, the vibe stopped. She had gone past ten orgasms in the past, but she was glad it was done. They took a shower together, washing the sweat off her tortured body, and then cuddled in front of the TV with a hot tea. She fell asleep on his shoulder.

When she awoke, she felt something on her pussy. Groggily, she looked down, and saw his hand playing with her. "I think you want another orgasm," he said.

"Yes, master, of course. Can I cum again?" she did not need to be prompted, even though she absolutely resented more orgasms.

She spread her legs, and he expertly made her cum, twice. They were small and unimpressive orgasms, barely any good. After that he ate her out, and despite her usually loving that, number thirteen was no fun at all. Like eating dated off-brand candy bars after a nice meal: Can be done, but should not.

He kept going. He bent her over the couch, slathered her butt in lube, and started fucking her ass, with one hand working her clit and pussy. She definitely did not want to cum again, but she had no choice. Her made her ask again and again. If anything, the discomfort and intensity of a fat cock in her ass made it easier.

The fourteenth orgasm, mostly by anal, made her groan and wince. The fifteenth made her eyes water. At number sixteen her empty pussy clenching painfully around nothing was getting to her. Seventeen was getting to to the point where her masochism started kicking in, she got more enjoyment from the pain than the pleasure. At eighteen she started to beg for no more orgasms, to no avail. Every climax hit her harder and more intense than the last now, her body driven past its limits. 

Nineteen had her grip the sofa with white knuckles, crying for mercy. Her body was screaming at her that it could not possibly go through another one. She would have preferred to be whipped, her ass burning and sore, her pussy drooling, and her clit more cramped than she could remember.

Finally, with her twentieth orgasm, he stopped, and pulled out.

She just collapsed in a heap. "No more, please," she wailed, out of breath and devastated.

"Alright. I guess you had enough orgasms," he shrugged, "but you know, you had so many, I think you don't need any more for the rest of the year."

The sentence, and how casual he said it, took her breath away. All this torment, just so she would be denied for the whole year? It made her whimper, and she felt her eyes tear up. How could he be so mean? So absolutely cruel? How was this fair? She was a good girl! A very good girl! She did not deserve such punishment!

But deep down, she felt those butterflies in her stomach. That feeling when was truly being pushed to her limits, that moment where her being a masochist really shone through, and she revelled in it. She could not admit it, not even to herself, but all this, the exhaustion, the torture, and now the punishing aftermath, it was all she had ever wanted. 

2020-03-03, Blissful Torment