Look, Don’t Touch
by Kilted Wookie
“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” he asked as she slid her fingers deep inside her cunt.
“Yes Sir! I… Ah… Am a very… Ah… bad girl.”
“Bad girls don’t deserve orgasms, do they?” he taunted.
“No they don’t!”
“May I… May I stop, Sir?” she pleaded, frustration. arousal, the need for release obvious in her voice.
He observed her for several moments, observing the flush of her skin, her rapid breathing. “No,” he replied, “Continue. But you must not come, not until I tell you.”
“Yes Sir!” she sobbed, feeling her cunt tighten around her fingers; the throbbing in her clit almost too much to endure.
It was always like this between them. He loved to watch her. He loved to see the anguished pain of longing, no, of need on her face, as she struggled to deny herself the release her body craved. The way she trembled so visibly, the way she bit her lower lip, the soft moans of arousal and anguish that signalled her frustration, her need to surrender to the sensations; they all spoke to him of his control over her.
“Harder!” he commanded, “Fuck yourself harder!”
“Ah… Uh… Y… Yes!” she sobbed. The need to speak almost robbing her of her fading control.
“What was that?”
“I… Uh… Ah… Yes… Yes Sir!” she moaned, barely able to hold back as she drove her fingers deeper into her cunt.
Muscle memory; that was all that remained. She no longer had conscious control over her fingers as they plunged in and out.
Fire burned. The throbbing in her clit was no longer simply a physical sensation. She yearned for release; a yearning that consumed her.
“Soon, little one,” he said softly, “You can come soon.”
He began to count slowly down from ten. The pause between each number longer and more torturous than the previous.
Tears bristled behind her tightly clenched eyelids. She hovered on the brink as he counted down towards her climax.
“One and a half…”
She sobbed. How could he do this to her? How could he torment her so?
The countdown continued; fraction by exquisitely painful fraction.
So intense was her suffering, so lost was she in the sensations, that she almost missed his final instruction.
“Come for me, little one. Come for me now.”
She lightly squeezed one nipple; she ran a fingertip delicately over her clit.
“Oh! Ough! OHHHHH!” she cried as the floodgates finally opened and the raging torrent of he climax picked her up and carried her away.
He watched, smiling as her body shook; savouring each moan, each cry that escaped from her.
“Good girl,” he said, ” You are always my very, very good girl.”
“Oh… Th… Thank you, S… Sir!” she sobbed, still struggling to control her breathing.
She let herself drift away. He watched for a while then, smiling to himself, he switched off the connection.
“Until next time, little one…” He said softly to the now empty screen.
©Kilted Wookie November 2015