She knew it was close. She knew she was playing with fire. The toy in one hand, her phone in the other, airpods in, teasing herself, listening to the most intense audio…
One edge. Another. Another. Getting closer. Closer. And then she lost control. Her hips jerked. "nguagnhhhfUUUCCK" she screamed, she came. Hard. Jammed the toy into her needy cunt, fucking herself with it, the buzzer on her clit, explosions of pleasure blossoming in her brain. And then, as they subsided, realization. She had defied him. She would have to tell him. Oh, this was bad, this was bad, this was bad.
Pussy still throbbing, all she wanted to do was lie back and absorb the bliss, but she knew she couldn't. She cleaned everything up and put everything away. She got dressed, and sat on the couch, waiting for his return. It was torture. She considered texting him, decided against it, reconsidered, decided against it. Got up. Sat down. Paced. Fuck, how was she going to tell him? What was he going to do? She told him she'd last. She told him. He-
He walked through the door, smiled, looked at her, raised an eyebrow. "Oh dear." He kissed her forehead. "In your defense, I did leave you unattended for…" he checked his watch, "a couple of hours. That must have been awful." The blood rushed to her face. How had he known IMMEDIATELY? He had barely opened the door! He - he knew her. He knew everything. He always knew. Her eyes fell to her lap.
"I tried," she whispered, "I really did. I'm sorry."
"I know, Princess." He kissed her forehead again. "But we need to do something about this."
"Oh!" He feigned surprise, as though he had not anticipated all of this all along. "I bought you something!" He walked to the door and retrieved the bag that he'd dropped when he walked in. It was a plain plastic shopping bag. She recognized it. It was from the shop. He reached in and pulled out a new Magic Wand. She felt her chest hitch and heave as she tried not to look at it. Felt her cunt throb.
"Let's go ahead and take care of this now…" He plugged the wand in and rested it on the large, comfy arm of the couch, then patted it next to the wand. "Climb on." She did as instructed, letting the head of the toy nestle itself against her. Fuck, it felt good, even off, even through her panties. She tried not to grind on it. He smiled. He went back to the bag and gave her a small spiral notebook. She looked a little confused, then horror began to set in as realization hit her. "I thought I'd go with an old-school consequence today…" he said.
"You're going to write lines. Twenty should do it, I think. 'I am a desperate needy slut and I cannot control myself.'" She nodded. "While I control the toy. No mistakes, nice penmanship" She nodded again.
He turned on the toy. The buzzing was divine. She closed her eyes, opened them. Ground a little. He handed her the pen. She furrowed her brow, concentrated, tried to force her brain to detach itself from the pleasure that was trying to blot out everything. She opened the notebook and uncapped the pen.
It was a fountain pen. Her breath caught. She fought to maintain control. She held the notebook and pen, carefully, mustering all her concentration. Even on a normal day, even without the stimulation, writing neatly in a soft notebook with a fountain pen while straddling a couch arm would be challenging. She fought to control her breath and put pen to paper. The tip moved in slow, even strokes.
I am a desperate needy slut.
I am a desperate needy s
Her hand hesitated as she tried to stop her hips from jerking, and a blob of black ink formed on the paper. She squeaked in frustration.
"Oh dear," he said, "That whole line is ruined. That's okay. Try again. He put a hand on her thigh. It felt so, so good. She tried not to think about it. "You're doing so well," he continued.
Her hips shifted a little. She felt wetness trickle down her thigh. Fuck, this was impossible.
Her hips jerked, she couldn't control it this time, and the pen left a jagged line across the page. "Fuck" she growled, in pleasure and frustration. She yanked the page from the book, tossed it. Tried again. Her hips were grinding, humping. She put the pen on the paper and held it there too long. Ink trickled from the nib of the pen and dripped onto her thigh. "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK" she moaned.
She flung the pen and ink across the room, grabbing the couch, fucking the toy. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck I'm a fucking. OH FUCK OH FUCK I'M FUCKIN FUCK I'M CUMMING FUCK I'M A NEEDY SLUT FOHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK" She clung to the couch, soaking it, humping it, fucking and grinding on the toy, desperate, feral, crying, broken, cumming. Thoughts slid out of her mind. All she felt was pleasure. Cumming. He was holding her down on it. Her whole body was shaking, cumming, screaming
Finally, finally, finally it was off, it was done.
