The Renunciation of O

Edge me. Wake me up early and take off my panties. Pick out one of our penis gags, strap it on tight, then rub tiny little circles over my clit. Listen to my moans, and just before they peak, stop. Cold.

Deny me. Again and again, all day long. Tie me in stress positions and make me fuck one of my small dildoes. We both know they won’t get me off; I can’t cum without my clit being teased. But I’ll put on a show anyway, in the hopes that you’ll grant me release.

Keep changing my penis gag, swapping each one out for a slightly bigger, thicker, longer one. I want to be gagging all day long. I tell you I hate it, but my pussy is wet, so what should you believe? Take it out every now and again to test my deepthroat skills. Replace with the gag when done.

Cum all over my face. Again and again. I want to be miserable, horny and on edge for hours, my predicament made all the more stark for your constant stream of cum drying all over my body.

Put me in my thigh high fishnets. Make me feel like a cheap, pathetic whore. Lock on my ballet boots and make me crawl like the cheap slut I am. Tape up my hands into little balls, wrap your belt around my neck. Tie my hair to an anal hook so my neck is at the perfect angle for a brutal, ring-gagged throatfuck.

Wrap rope around my tits. Put your hand around my throat and squeeze. Lock me into my corset, and pull it tight so my breaths are shallow. Make me beg around a gag to be of use, any use, to you. Point out the wetness of my thighs, my pussy dripping for the way you treat me. It’s pathetic I know, but please don’t stop.

At the end of the day, make me beg to be fucked. Spend hours with a vibrator on my clit, taking it away each time I ask to cum. I’ll be so desperate, so wet, and you’ll laugh at my humiliation.

Finally, when you know I can’t stand it anymore, fuck me. Slowly. Build me up to an orgasm and when I ask permission, ask me if I think I deserve it. Ask me if my attitude has been becoming of a slave. Make me think about the way I’ve gone about my day, and if I’ve done it with the right frame of mind. Speed up your thrusts as you ask me if I’ve been a good girl, putting your needs above mine, and if I think I’ve earned it, you’ll give me permission to cum.

Then keep fucking me and teasing my clit however you like for as long as you like. My body is yours anyway, and my tears and sobs only make you harder. Then make me say it out loud, the reason for my enforced denial: I don’t deserve to cum. I live for the ache.