thedarkmindedone:darkenedstories: I received a flurry of text-messages on my cellphone. She was be
thedarkmindedone: darkenedstories: I received a flurry of text-messages on my cellphone. She was begging for My permission to cum. She had been on an orgasm-denial that I imposed because I caught her masturbating to a climax, screaming into the pillow to muffle her screams of ecstasy from my ears. I immediately placed her on a denial regiment. She wasn’t even allowed to touch herself for anything other than cleanliness. Being her Dom, it was completely up to me if I was going to grant her request or not. She had been a good for the last three weeks. I fucked her mouth, I fucked her cunt and I fucked her ass — all usually enough to start her whines for permission to cum. When she started to beg, I’d stop fucking whichever hole I was in, and slap her face, her clit or her ass (whichever I was fucking at the time), emphasized with me yelling, “You will not cum without My permission!” — an impact to match each syllable — then go back to fucking the next hole. For three weeks, this continued. In the following three weeks after that, she finally wised up and stopped asking. Someplace in her submissive mind, she finally realized that it was My control she had violated and it was that control that she desired above all else. This was penance for her transgression and she had to pay the price for it, like any violator. I decided to grant My permission to edge, and edge only! I was quite clear that I was not granting her permission to cum as well. If she was going to cum, it would be Me ripping it from her body. After texting back My permission, I was suddenly concerned that she would go too far and actually disobey My command; after all, that’s how she wound up on this disciplinary denial in the first place. I replied again, “How do I know that you will comply with my orders?” A moment later, my iPhone FaceTime app started to ring… I answered. There was a no face, just naked, parted pussy lips and fingers feverishly orbiting an already swollen clit. I could hear ever-increasing moans of pleasure from my ear-buds. I watched and listened as the moans became more pronounced and the folds of her lips opened and moistened as she climbed closer and closer toward an earth-shattering orgasm. I could hear the tell-tale signs in her voice — the volume, the pitch. She was dangerously close. I said two words through My mic. “Stop! — Now!” The fingers lifted from view. My screen showed her quivering lips and a droplets of glistening wetness flow from between them, pooling on the couch cushion. I could hear a raspy, frustrated voice panting in the background. It took a few moments, but she finally tilted the camera up and revealed her face. She was clearly flushed. In a breathy, short sentence, she said, “See? …I can… follow your… your orders, Sir…” I smiled back into the image and said, “Good girl.” I paused as she gained a modest amount of composure, then sadistically said, “Do it again.” © 2014, Darkened Stories; http://darkenedstories.tumblr.com -- source link