sub-burbs

My two-week trial has barely just started, but Mistress Trecia is pushing me more each day to see what I can withstand.  Yesterday’s task was especially difficult - stroke to the edge, then keep stroking for 15 minutes without cumming.  Since I had a similar task two days ago that also involved irritant play (namely, my evil toothpaste), I thought this would be a great deal easier. 

I was, of course, completely wrong.

The stroking felt amazingly good.  My hard cock throbbing in my lubed hand, gliding up and down, the sexual rush and personal intimacy of the situation fueling the process even further - all of that was wonderful as always, even knowing that the orgasm that normally followed was not an option.

What killed me was the period after I hit the peak as I struggled on the edge, still stroking, still feeling amazing, but knowing that I’d have to hold that line for 15 whole minutes.  At times, I’d catch myself stroking faster, my body almost forcing me to the point of no return.  I was not prepared for the massive amounts of willpower and concentration it would take to keep stroking in such a way that I could toe the line without crossing.

As always, I was kneeling at the edge of the bed, my free hand clutching handfuls of sheet, at times biting into the mattress just trying to fulfill my task and make Mistress proud.  I finally managed to complete all 15 minutes of so-good-it-hurts torture and collapsed into a quivering heap beside the bed.

Tonight, Mistress has all sorts of other devious things planned for me.  First, tonight was the big dinner to close out the conference I’m attending and Mistress text messaged my cell phone with instructions to head to the bathroom and stroke myself to the edge.  The place was like Grand Central Station with crowds of people streaming through making me feel incredibly  exposed.  Despite my aching need for release, it took me a long time to bring myself to the edge since I was afraid of getting caught.  Since I took so long, my body responded in kind by flooding me with pre-cum which dripped down and soaked the underwear that were around my ankles.  (I’m glad I had jeans and not some other style of pants that would have leaked through.)

In addition to that little adventure, Mistress instructed me earlier to track down some sort of clips or clamps and a 9-volt battery.  I managed to gather them, but can now only imagine and worry about what Mistress has planned for my next denial session.