Unseen

Unseen
by Kilted Wookie

She couldn’t see. The blindfold over her eyes shrouded her in darkness; sharpening her other senses, heightening her arousal.

Three pairs of hands explored her body. Two pairs, she was certain, were male; one of which she recognised as His by the sure way they touched her. The third pair were softer, smaller, perhaps belonging to another woman. She couldn’t tell. The thought excited her and filled her with a nervous trepidation.

She squirmed as His hand ran up the inside of her thigh. The softer, smaller hand ran up the other. The hands of the other man played with her breasts, teasing her nipples. Her cunt grew wetter with every passing second as the hands explored her. The intensity of her arousal grew with every heartbeat.

Without warning, the hands were gone. She waited in the darkness. Anticipation of what was to come next, grew stronger.

She moaned as an unfamiliar tongue flicked between her lower lips and over her clit; licking her with an easy competence. It was so different from the way He did it, but it felt so good.

A cock placed itself at her lips. In the instant she took it into her mouth, she knew it wasn’t his. The texture and flavour were subtly different.

With a start, she realised that the tongue that was licking her so expertly could only belong to the woman, if it was a woman. The thought suddenly excited her. She’d never experienced another woman before, and now the possibility, the unknown, was adding to her excitement. Her orgasm took her completely by surprise.

As the sensations gripped her, her partners changed places. The cock now in her mouth was His. She sucked it hungrily. Another cock entered her, filling her, fucking her.

She came again as the two cocks took her. A new experience, so overwhelming; she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

Lips fastened on her nipple. Her climax peaked again.

He and the other man swapped places. His familiar cock slipped into her, and she could taste herself on the other cock.

Fingers played with her clit as His cock filled her. She sucked hungrily on the other cock, tasting the nearness of his release.

Cocks, fingers, lips; all working in tandem to maximise her pleasure.

The cock in her mouth slipped from her lips. A groan was followed by the feeling of his cum splashing against her skin; warm and sticky.

Again she came as the small hands rubbed the cum into her skin, as His cock fucked her with increased urgency.

Even lost in the throes of her own climax, she recognised the signs that told her His was also imminent.

Seconds later, he erupted inside her, sending her over the edge to her most powerful climax yet.

Her body shook uncontrollably. A long, deep, satisfied sigh escaped from between her lips as the intense pleasure washed over her.

The blindfold was finally removed. She blinked, unaccustomed to the sudden light. It was just Him. The others had gone, their identity still unknown.

He kissed her and gathered her into his familiar strong embrace. She smiled, savouring the afterglow of her dark encounter.

©Kilted Wookie March 2016

Sounds

Sounds
by Kilted Wookie

The book clattered to the floor.

A soft moan escaped from between her lips.

The sound of her fingers slipping into the wet, tight confines of her cunt as she urgently fingered herself was all she could hear.

The pressure built inside her, slowly but steadily; drawing her ever closer to the point of release.

She squeezed her nipple tighter as she thumbed her clit. The soft, fresh, clean linen sheets rustled below her as she tossed and writhed in response to the sensations she was giving herself.

She became aware of her own breathing; increasingly shallow and rapid as her arousal grew.

Her cunt tightened around her fingers, gripping them, squeezing them.

Lights flashed behind her tightly shut eyelids. Her hair crackled against the pillow case as her head tossed from side to side.

Her heartbeat raced as her climax approached; she could hear it, sensing the blood pounding through her.

And then, a moment’s silence as she teetered on the brink.

Long, agonisingly intense seconds passed as she held herself on the edge.

And then…

And then…

“Yesssss!” she sobbed.

A long, drawn out moan. A sigh of exquisite relief as her climax took her.

The bed groaned beneath her as her body shook. Acutely aware now, she could hear the water in the glass on her bedside cabinet ripple as her spasms transmitted through the fabric of the room.

She surrendered herself to the sensations; every inch of her aflame with the intensity of her release.

Silence; punctuated only by her breathing and heartbeat as they slowly retuned to normal.

After what seemed like an eternity of post-orgasmic weariness, she leant over and picked up her book.   The pages crackled beneath her thumbs as she located her place.

She wondered what effect the next chapter would have…

©Kilted Wookie March 2016

A Private Screening

A Private Screening
by Kilted Wookie

Arriving home from work, she showers, and gets ready; laying out a selection of toys on the bed as the laptop boots up, Skype loads, and she waits for him to arrive.

He did so promptly. He cannot abide tardiness, and so she expected none from him either.

Checking that he can see her properly, she asks him what he would like her to do. He instructs her to strip off. She opens her dressing-gown and lets it fall to the ground before standing there, naked, in front of the camera, exposed for him.

Following his instruction, she climbs on to the bed.

She begins by playing with her breasts, rubbing lotion into them. Her nipples stiffen and a lovely warm feeling begins to spread through her. Spreading her legs, she hopes that he can see how just the simple act of teasing herself is making her wet for him.

Reaching down to her cunt, she spreads her labia before pushing her fingers inside.

“Suck them clean!” he commands. She obeys, wishing it was his cock she was licking her juices from.

Dipping her fingers into her cunt once again, this time she spreads her juices over her nipples; it feels so good, so dirty, as it always does.

The warm glow throughout her body grows more intense, but he gives her no indication of permission for her to cum. She continues to play for him, teasing herself, pleasuring herself but ultimately denying herself the release of orgasm until he gives her leave.

“Use your rabbit,” he tells her and she stifles a groan. She is already so turned on and knows that if she uses it for more than a few seconds, she will almost certainly cum and he has not yet permitted that.

“Are you sure?” she asks, risking his displeasure, “I might not be able to stop myself from cumming?”

“Do as you’re told, miss!”

She complies; setting the toy to its lowest power and applying the buzzing head to her cunt while trying to angle it in such a way that the ears avoid her clit.

The vibrations feel so good. She begins to moan.

“Silence!” he commands, and she bites her lip, holding back the sounds of her pleasure.

The need to be quiet adds to her arousal, intensifying the sensations, Tears form behind her eyelids as she screws them tightly shut, trying to prevent the inevitable.

“Turn the power up,” he says, “No cheating.”

Again she complies. The extra power is like an electric shock coursing through her already over-sensitized body.

Biting her lip harder, screwing her eyes more tightly shut as the pressure inside keeps building to the point where the need to release is an actual pain. Still he has not given permission to cum, nor has he given permission to stop.

A realisation dawns. This is a test. He wants her to choose. It is up to her to decide whether to deny herself the release she needs so much, or to surrender herself to it. It is a choice, but is there a correct answer? She doesn’t know what to do; she cannot tell what he wants her to do.

Suddenly, the choice is made for her. In her confusion, she accidentally lets the rabbit’s head slide too deep inside her. Its ears graze her clit and in that moment, she is undone.

Cumming hard, her back arches off the bed. Her body heaves as powerful contractions grip and shake her. Her cunt is so wet, the rabbit slips out, and she no longer has enough control to push it back in.

“I… I am sorry…” she sobs between gasping breaths, “I… I tried so hard to… to wait for your… permission.” There was no reply.

Finally, the energy of her climax slowly dissipates, draining her body, leaving her feeling satisfied but uncertain.

She turns to face the screen. He is smiling. “Well done, my clever girl,” he said, “You chose correctly.”

She shook her head, unable to comprehend.

“Sometimes you need to decide for yourself,” he explained, “Sometimes you must have the courage to make a choice not knowing what the right answer is. You could have denied yourself the release you craved, but that would have been pointless. Instead you chose to surrender yourself to your orgasm and risk whatever punishment that might entail.”

“So… so you are not displeased?” she asked, uncertainty evident in her voice.

“Only that you allowed your indecision to cripple you.”

Nodding, she accepted his judgement. “I will submit to your belt master. I will submit and better myself.”

“You will, little one, you will, but not tonight. There will be time enough for that when we see each other next.” His smile broadened. The stern, but softly authoritative mask slipped away. “Now get that sexy arse of yours into gear and go and enjoy the rest of your evening, my sweet, naughty little girl.”

“Goodnight master.”

He logged off.

She sighed, then smiled, then slowly, languidly, reached for another of her toys…

©Kilted Wookie March 2016

Unintended

Unintended
by Kilted Wookie

Just friends. That’s what they’d agreed. That what they had always said. Just friends. Nothing more.

And yet here she was, curled up naked beside him, her body still aching pleasantly from the intense orgasms he had driven her to, the essence of his maleness still warm in her cunt.

It hadn’t been supposed to happen. A chat, a few drinks, nothing more. Yet somehow, she had let herself be seduced by him. No; they had seduced each other.

That first kiss, so electric, so real. That first kiss that made a lie of their promises.

The anticipation as he undressed her. The vulnerability as she stood exposed to his gaze. The trembling excitement in her hands as she removed his clothes and explored his body; first with her fingers, then with her lips.

His kisses excited her. The strong, confident touch of his hands as he lifted her to the bed had felt like a dream. The heat of his breath as he knelt between her thighs. The touch of his tongue.

Ohhhh, his tongue…

It had teased and tormented her, soothed and satisfied her. Taken her to unscaled heights and cast her from the precipice.

How many times had he taken her to the brink? How many climaxes had that tongue ignited? She couldn’t remember.

And she had reciprocated. She had taken his cock into her mouth. She had taken him to and beyond the point of no return. She had tasted him on her tongue, savouring the richness of his essence before swallowing with a hunger she had seldom known before.

Then they had fucked. Long, slow, hard. Moving from one position to another. He had taken her roughly from behind; fucked her solidly from above. She had ridden his cock with wanton abandon.

Again she had climaxed, gripping his cock tightly inside her as she slid herself along its length.

Rolling over, he had pounded her, pinning her beneath him as his own orgasm approached. When at last, he came, filling her, he collapsed on top of her; their hearts pounding together.

None of this was meant to have happened. And yet, here they were; their bodies still wrapped around each other as they shared the afterglow of their passion.

They had this one night together. Was it possible? When they went back to their separate lives, could they go back to how they’d been before? Just friends?

She hoped that they could; but not before they’d enjoyed each other some more.

©Kilted Wookie March 2016

Her Taste

Her Taste
by Kilted Wookie

He looked down on her as she lay, naked, on the bed before him; her legs open, inviting. He feasted on her with his eyes; drinking in her dark hair and pale skin. Her emerald eyes flashed as she smiled up at him.

She flinched as he ran his fingertips up and down the inside of her thighs; dragging his nails lightly over her skin. Again and again, the fingers approached, and each time she wondered if this time would be the time that he touched her soft, lower lips. Each time, to her increasing torment, just when it felt that he had to touch her, his fingers drew away.

Time passed, and his lips replaced his fingers. The sensations changed, but the torment remained. Approach, retreat… Approach, retreat… Each time, the warmth of his breath, the closeness of his mouth to her most sensitive of skin caused her to shiver.

He could see the tension in her build. He could feel it in the tightness of her thighs as he kissed them. Her lips glistened with her moisture. Her scent was intoxicating. His prolonged teasing was almost as much of a torture for him as it was for her; he longed to taste her, to claim his reward, to push her beyond the brink

With her hands bound above her head, she was helpless. She wished she could reach down, grab his head, force his mouth against her. She wished she could end the teasing and make him do that thing that they had both craved for so long. She moaned as, once again, she felt his warm breath against her.

“Yessss!” she moaned, loudly, arching her back as his tongue finally touched her, sliding between her labia and flicking lightly over her clit. Even in that first touch, she felt the awakening of her orgasm. He had brought her so close with his teasing, so much closer than she had been aware of; his first touch was all that it took to ignite the fire within her.

Her  juices flowed over his tongue. He savoured her rich sweetness as he poked his tongue into her.  Her thighs pressed against his head as her first climax gripped her. Glancing up briefly, he saw her head was thrown back as she gave voice to the incoherent cries that signalled he pleasure.

He returned to his task; feasting on her now with his mouth, every bit as hungrily as he had earlier devoured her with his eyes. Focussing on her clit, he worked a finger inside her.

Her moans deepened as he slid a second inside her. His tongue flicked over her clit as he worked his fingers in and out.

She had no control. She felt her cunt tighten around his fingers, felt her clit throb under the unrelenting, yet gentle, assault of his tongue. “Oh… Oh fuck!” she sobbed as the fingers of his free hand fastened on her nipple, squeezing it between them as he rolled his thumb over the tip.

She felt herself begin to slip again. Her clit pulsed, her nipple ached. Fire burned through her nerves. She screwed her eyes tightly shut as she fought to resist, delay the inevitable, prolong the exquisite pain.

Flicking his tongue where his fingers joined her, he savoured the moment. Her body stiffened again and then she came. It wasn’t her moans that announced her climax, nor was it the way her hips bucked, pushing her against his face. It was her flavour; suddenly stronger, richer, so much more intense, that gave him the confirmation.

He stopped, kissed his way up her body. She almost sobbed as he paused to play with her nipples. Finally, his face was above hers, She stared up into his dark brown eyes as he moved to kiss her.

Tasting herself on his lips, she worked her tongue inside his mouth; feeling his hardness press against her.

She could deny herself no more. Breaking the kiss, she whispered in his ear: “Take me. Take me now…”

©Kilted Wookie January 2016

The Tube

The Tube
by Kilted Wookie

The carriage was packed with the rush hour hordes. Bodies crammed together uncomfortably; commuters sharing their discomfort with a stoic lack of eye contact.

Once again, the train shuddered to a halt.

She staggered against him; mumbled an apology. He smiled down at her in unspoken reassurance that no apology was required. Their eyes met, breaking the unwritten contract between those that travelled below London’s streets. She returned the smile, a twinkle of mischief in her emerald green eyes acknowledging the unintended intimacy.

A garbled announcement; something about a breakdown on the line ahead, an apology for the inconvenience. They smiled at each other again; a shrug of resignation, a symbol of their silent companionship.

Minutes ticked by; long, drawn out, minutes that slowly sapped the resolve of the crowded commuters.

He heard her sigh and felt her lean slightly against him. She looked up, fatigue clear in her face. Smiling, he shook his head, indicating that he didn’t mind. A whispered, “thank you,” just a hint of an accent, and she rested her head against his chest.

Time ticked along slowly. Without being aware of how it happened, he found her small, almost childlike hand in his. Did he imagine the slight movement of her body against his?

A soft moan, and she pressed herself more firmly against him.

Again, that barely perceptible movement. Despite the situation, his body reacted. A soft chuckle. He looked down but she did not meet his gaze. Instead, she squeezed his hand a little more tightly and slowly, but very deliberately, pressed herself more firmly against his growing bulge.

Not quite able to believe what was happening, he cast a furtive glance around the carriage. For once he was grateful for the characteristic indifference of his fellow travellers.

He felt a fingertip run along thew front of his suit trousers. She turned slightly and the fingertip brushed against his cock through the material. He coughed to disguise a moan as he grew harder at her touch.

He let his hand be guided to the front of her jeans. He wasn’t surprised to find them undone. He accepted her unspoken invitation and slid his fingers inside her knickers.

Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his fingers. It was her turn to cough as he touched her wetness. His movements were restricted, both by the crowded confines of the carriage, and by necessity, but he slowly worked a finger inside her. He marvelled at how wet she was as his fingers found a rhythm inside her.

Pressing her forehead against his chest, her free hand snaked around his waist to grip his belt. She rocked her hips gently against his hand, drawing his finger into her.

He allowed himself to be used, feeling her cunt tighten around him.

The train jolted back into life. The sudden, unexpected movement forced her harder on to his fingers. He felt her shudder, felt her grip him, felt her juices flood over his fingers as she came.

As the train pulled into the station, she released his hand. Finally she looked up at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes flashed. “My stop,” she said in a soft, lilting brogue, I don’t suppose it happens to be yours too?”

The invitation was clear; even without the playful wink and a last squeeze of his now painful erection.

The doors opened. She stepped out on to the platform. With a smile, he followed her…

©Kilted Wookie January 2016

Private Dancer

Private Dancer
by Kilted Wookie

The lights are dimmed, the music plays, he sits on a seat in the middle of the floor. Sometimes his hands are tied behind the back of the seat, sometimes not, it depends on how much she wants to tease him.

She steps into the room wearing one of her sluttiest outfits; the kind of outfit that leaves little to the imagination. His eyes are immediately glued to her.

She walks up and runs her hand over his head, across his shoulders. She walks around and runs her fingers down his chest; unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. Her hand dips lower; her fingers trace the outline of the growing bulge in the front of his jeans.

The first song is spent simply teasing him; rubbing herself against him, sitting on his lap and ruffling his hair as she pulls his face towards her cleavage. She squirms on his lap, feeling his cock stiffen.

As the second song starts, she undoes his belt, opens up his jeans. Now it’s the turn of her mouth. She gently kisses his cock through his boxer shorts; teasing him gently with her teeth. His cock strains within its confinement.

She wriggles out of her skirt. It drops to the floor and she kicks it out of the way. She turns away from him and lowers herself on to his lap; wriggling and grinding against him. The wetness of her cunt seeps past the string of her thong, soaking into his boxer shorts.

She begins to remove her blouse. As she eases it down, he begins to kiss her neck and shoulders. This dance is for him; she allows him to do that.

With her blouse joining her skirt in the corner of the room, she stands up. Turning around, she bends over and kisses him. As her tongue dances in his mouth, her hand reaches down between his legs. She finds his cock and pulls it free. Her fingers stroke it lightly and he moans softly into her mouth. As she breaks away, she bends down and lightly kisses the tip before returning to her routine.

Lifting a foot to his groin, she releases one stocking from her suspender-belt. She swaps legs and does the same with the other. Standing up, she removes the suspenders. Bending over him, she hooks them over his head, behind his neck and pulls his face into her cleavage.

She squats down on to his lap again and grinds against his now exposed cock. He struggles, trying to work it past the string and into her cunt. She is so turned on by now, it takes her all her effort not to accept him; soon, but not yet, not yet.

Standing up, she turns away and coyly looks back at him over her shoulder as she slowly eases her bra straps down her arms. Reaching back, she undoes the clasp before tossing the bra nonchalantly aside. Cupping her breasts in her hands, she teases her nipples and feels her cunt grow wetter.

Turning to face him, she can see his cock straining. She makes a show of playing with her nipples; lifting her breasts up to lick them before dropping her hands and exposing herself to his view.

Turning away from him again, she bends over once more. Pushing the string of her thong aside, she runs her fingers between her lower lips and dips them into her cunt, coating them with her juices, marvelling at how wet she is. She looks back and up at him from between her legs and makes a show of licking her fingers clean, before easing her thong down over her arse.

Standing before him, naked except for her stockings and heel, she plays with herself for his entertainment. Fingering her cunt, rubbing her juices into her nipples and licking her fingers clean as she moves towards him.

As yet another song starts, she straddles him again. Rubbing her breasts in his face, she bumps and grinds on his lap.

Sliding down on to her knees, she begins tugging at his jeans. He wriggles in his seat to help as she pulls both them and his boxer shorts down around his ankles.

Taking his cock in her hands, she begins to stroke it. She runs her tongue all over it before wrapping her lips around the tip; fingering her cunt and teasing her clit as she sucks him.

Her cunt begins ache. Her womb contracts. She sucks his cock harder as she cums.

Still trembling, she climbs on to his lap. Guiding his cock into her, her orgasm peaks again. and d she begins to ride his cock with increasing abandon.

Riding his cock until she can sense his own climax is imminent, she slides off him and on to her knees once more. She takes him in her mouth again, savouring the taste of herself on his length. Rubbing her clit, she cums again as she sucks him. From his breathing she can tell he is on the brink.

She has a decision to make; where does she want him to cum? Does she want his load in her mouth; to savour the richness of his cum on her tongue before swallowing it down? Does she want his cum on her skin; coating her in its warm stickiness?

She makes her decision.

Slipping his cock from her mouth, she begins to wank him, directing his cock towards her breasts.

His breathing deepens. The head of his cock swells, becoming an even angrier purple.

Roaring “Fuck yes!” his cock erupts. Thick sticky jets of cum splatter over her breasts. She milks his load from his cock, until his flood slows to a trickle. Finally, she wraps her lips around his cock and sucks the last drops of his cum into her mouth.

As his erection subsides she sits back and rubs his thick cum into the soft skin of her breasts. He watches her as she spreads his load over her skin.

Lying back on the floor in front of him, she spreads her legs and begins to play while she waits for him to grow hard again.

©Kilted Wookie January 2016

His Hands

His Hands
by Kilted Wookie

She moved into his embrace and felt his hands explore her. As his lips pressed against hers, his right hand gripped her bottom tightly; his fingertips digging into her skin.

She was hungry for him; her body ached, she felt myself grow wetter as the anticipation built.

“Bend over!” he commanded.

Meekly, she complied.

“Count the slaps!”

“Yes Master!”

His firm, strong hand rained down on her; alternating from cheek to cheek as she counted each blow.

“One… Two… Three…”

Tears brimmed in her eyes as he continued.

“Five… Six… Seven…”

Heat burned in her cheeks. She knew my face was as red as her bottom.

“Nine… Ten… E… Eleven…”

She started to sob. The fire in her buttocks spread to her cunt. She could feel the wetness begin to trail down the insides of her thighs. She wanted to feel his thick, hard cock inside her so badly; to have his thick cum filling her with its heat.

“Fourteen… Fifteen… Six… Sixteen”

She could barely continue. Each number was forced from between her lips as her legs struggled to hold her up. She wanted him; needed him more than ever. She’d promise to be good, and she’d mean it too if only he would give her the fucking she craved.

“Eighteen… Nineteen… Twe…Twenty…”

How much more could she endure? The stinging pain felt so good. Her bottom felt so wonderfully sore. Her cunt ached with an emptiness that only he could fill.

She waited for the next blow; a blow that never came. Instead he gripped her hips, holding each one firmly with one of his big strong hands. She moaned softly as she felt the tip of his cock press against her labia, feeling them part as he edged forward.

Seconds passed; long, slow, agonisingly drawn-out seconds as she waited for him to take her. She sobbed with frustration, not knowing if she should beg to be fucked or if begging would deny her the fuck she needed so badly. He was testing her, of that she was certain.

After moments that seemed like an eternity, she felt his grip tighten on her hips. “Good girl!” he said softly as he drove himself into her…

©Kilted Wookie December 2015

Hunger

Hunger
by Kilted Wookie

He held her close. Breathing in her scent as his hands reacquainted themselves with her body. She pressed against him; her skin soft and smooth under his hand.

How long had it been? Ho long since they had last been in each other’s presence; since he had last been in her?

She sighed as he held her; his lips kissing her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. Shivers ran through her as his hand cupped her breast through the material of her corset. She could feel his hunger for her in the firmness of his body, in the way his hands asserted themselves; touching her, holding her, pulling her into him.

Her hands made their way to the front of his jeans, and she stroked the growing bulge contained within. His moan, his intake of breath; an affirmation of his need for her.

As he held her bottom in one large, strong hand, she undid his jeans; freeing him from his confinement. She licked her lips as she took his cock, so hard and heavy, in her hand.

His kisses became more urgent as she stroked him. She moaned softly into his shoulder as he pushed down the cups of her corset and drew her nipple between his lips.

Dropping to her knees, she took him in her mouth. His hands tightened on her shoulders as she worked her lips along his length.

She gripped his arse through his jeans as she sucked and licked him. Every moan, every sigh every taste of him made her grow wetter, made her hunger grow.

He pushed her away, gently but firmly. She lay back on the bed as he quickly undressed. He smiled as he pushed her legs apart; it was a smile filled with hunger, a hunger she knew only too well how he intended to quench.

He kissed his way up the insides of her thighs. His breath felt like fire on her sensitive skin.

Closer…

Closer…

His tongue slid between her folds. Her back arched as he began to feast.

Her orgasm quickly ignited. She lost herself in its grip as it peaked; once, twice, again and again. Climax quickly followed climax until they rolled into one. She lost herself in the sensations; her body no longer hers to control.

Time no longer had any meaning. Each flick of his tongue, each throb of her clit, every heartbeat an eternity of exquisite pleasure/pain that left her both drained, yet aching for more.

Gone.

A moment of relief.

She sensed him move above her.

She opened her eyes; blinking to focus as he smiled down at her.

She smiled back, knowing what was about to happen.

He entered her with a single thrust…

©Kilted Wookie November 2015

Look, Dont Touch

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 Sir!”

“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.

“Two…”

Pause…

“Two…”

Longer pause…

“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