Hi there, my name is… Well, my name is not important, now is it. I am just a storyteller, a fan of erotic story telling, but this is not a situation from a call.
No, I have a physical Femdom Mistress. Mistress is a big, big fan of tease and denial, and, well, what Mistress wants, Mistress gets. This story happened not too long ago. Thursday, to be exact.
I, like so many nights, found myself bound. But this was more than just bound; this was confinement. I was unable to move, not even squirm. I was in a hood at the time, with no eye holes. From the smell, and the loose nature, I would say it was one of her leather hoods. The latex ones almost feel like they are crushing your face after a while. They aren’t, but they are so very tight.
I lay there in darkness I know not how long, until I heard a sound. It sounded like a cross between thudding and clicking, the unmistakable sound of a high heel on concrete. I idly wondered if Mistress was wearing the red leather boots I bought her as a birthday gift. She ran a hand over my naked form, and I could tell she was wearing latex gloves. Not the surgical kind, but the thick ones. The kind that run you a small fortune online. The latex was strangely cool, and I enjoyed the sensation. And then I felt a gloved hand on my penis.
Mistress pumped me for a minute and took time to lick and suck on my left nipple as she did. She let go of my penis and gave my nipple a bite as she did. I gasped and moaned into the thick red ball gag between my lips. She just laughed. She took hold of my nipple between her thumb and fore finger and held onto it as she walked around the table I was on, twisting it hard. More moaning, and more laughter. I could tell it was going to be a long night. She released my nipple when she’d found her destination. Her hands found my balls this time. Her mouth went to my right nipple. She licked and sucked on my nipple as she gently messaged my testicles. I felt so good during this, getting lost in the pleasure she was giving me. A bite on my nipple and a slap to my balls fixed that.
That was just the beginning, you see. Mistress was explaining, without words, what was going to happen tonight. She was going to play with me and get me as close to the red line as possible, and then back off. Or even flat-out give me a ruined orgasm or two. Tease me for a while, deny me until she was ready to play again. This would last for hours.
Sometimes, she would even hop on me and ride herself to a couple of what seemed like wonderful orgasms, which I never saw. I was only ever allowed to hear her during these sessions–occasionally not even that. On those occasions, only touch and smell were what I was allowed. Those were the worst because I could smell her in the room–her perfume is intoxicating by the way–but I couldn’t feel her or hear her. Sometimes she would just sit there, reading a book I imagine.
That night I was able to hear. I could hear the sounds she made when she would take my penis into her lips I imagined were ruby red. I could hear her moans when she mounted me. I could hear the sound of the air being displaced when the crop was finding its way to my testicles, and I could hear the scream from behind my gag when it did. Mistress would bring me right to the edge of orgasm, and then she would torture my nipples, choke me, or perform some very painful CBT. Her orgasm control over me was complete.
Sometimes, I’d be close, and nothing…. Nothing but the sound of boots walking off into the distance. And, suddenly, I was alone and hard. The air conditioner was set to blow down on the helpless victims on the table, and tonight I was the recipient. The cold air on my penis eventually brought it down to its normal size.
After twenty minutes, which seems like forever in that state, she would return, and the process would begin all over again. I can’t complain. I loved every minute of it, trapped in my confinement hell, as it were. And if you are wondering if I came, well, I will let you know if it happens.