Office Decor
I woke, well rested, and quickly became aware that my pussy was wet and there was a deeper ache inside me. My first thoughts were of how badly I wanted a cock. It would be easy to slide in. I was already wet enough that it could enter me in one smooth slide. I clenched imaging the satisfying impact. Clenching on nothing only made me more desperate.
Luckily, Sir's plan for the day seemed to include exactly what I was craving. He asked me to dress in heels, skater skirt, and stretchy low cut blouse (never any undies or bra). He then blindfolded me and quietly led me somewhere in our house. I felt gentle taps on my thighs widening my legs, then, thank heaven, something fat and stiff nudging at my pussy lips. It slid home just as easily as I'd imagined it would despite it being bigger than most I took inside myself. I couldn't help myself and moaned wantonly as it filled me. Clenching down on the dildo sent a shuddering wave of pleasure through my whole body. Sir chuckled and I felt deliciously embarrassed at my display of lust. Deny me orgasm long enough, tease me relentlessly every day, and then all it takes is one stroke with the unknown dildo to melt me - no lube required! My desperate pussy takes care of that all on its own.
Sir's hand caressed my jaw and then gripped my neck firmly. I yielded to his desire as he turned my face this way and that, knowing how much he liked the sight of me all pliant and desperate. I opened my mouth. I hoped by doing this unasked, I would earn his grunt of pleasure, or better yet the compliment, "such a pretty, useful mouth". Instead I felt sharp pain as he pinched my already hard left nipple through my shirt. I gasped and felt warm lust roll through me.
"How is that dido staying in me?" I wondered, since both of Sir's hands were busy elsewhere on my body. I clenched and pushed experimentally on the dildo but it didn't budge. The delicious full feeling made me groan again. Sir chuckled. His hands left my body and then something clicked at the base of the dildo as it pushed higher in me - just to the edge of discomfort.
I heard him cross the room and the sound of his rolling chair and typing. I must be standing in his home office then. He worked from home most days and kept his office scrupulously neat. How was this dildo staying up? I squirmed and found my range of motion limited.
Though I was strictly disallowed touching clit or pussy without permission, I reached down cautiously trying to explore the dildo's base. I couldn't reach it. Whatever was in me held so rigidly that I couldn't bend far enough to reach below my vagina. I tried a small step forward but the dildo refused my motion. Shifting my heel made a sharp metallic sound but the floor in Sir's office is carpet. Come to think of it, I'd heard that same sound when he positioned me....
Frustration and arousal swept through me. This dildo must be on a pole. It impaled me and my heels kept me off balance enough to ensure I stayed put, exactly where Sir wanted me. It was odd (and a wild turn on) to be so free and yet so stuck. I settled in, clenching and releasing, enjoying the pleasure but desperate for more.
After a few minutes, I heard Sir getting up from his desk. He grabbed my breasts hard and I gasped. Without warning he let them go and then slapped first one then the other. When I'm on edge, nothing turns me on like breast pain. It hardly registers as pain but converts immediately to breathless pleasure.
"Thank you sir" I breathed.
"Good girl," he said.
Then he pulled my top down so that my boobs popped out, one after another. He gave them two more slaps, then a cruel pinch to each nipple.
Sir asks me to pinch my own nipples sometimes, but I can never find the courage to pinch as hard as he does. He takes me right up to my limit and leaves me shocked and breathless and so, SO turned on. That's why I love and serve him. I can never get enough of this feeling.
Sir reached behind me to squeeze my ass and groaned approval. Then he lifted the front of my skirt and tucked it into my waistband exposing me. Firmly he swiped one finger from the edge of my juicy pussy up and over my clit. Lusty fire licked through me and I moaned, open mouthed and desperate.
Sir's chuckle was a laugh now, "Such a good, desperate little slut." He ran the same finger around my lips. I could smell my own scent on it.
"Listen closely." He continued, "Today, you will not just decorate my office while I work. I have a challenge to keep you occupied." As he spoke his hands wandered back down my body to deliver another firm and deliberately slow stroke across my swollen clit. I tried to rock into his hand to get more pleasure but the strict dildo forbade me.
"I have about 8 hours of work I need to do today. You will provide me with decoration and entertainment while I do. If you chose, all you have to do is stand here. That's not very entertaining though, is it?"
"No sir" I said, though I didn't see where he was going yet.
"You know I love watching my little, desperately horny slut, squirm and struggle," he said. "So, if you masturbate for me - put on a good, desperate show - then I will cut your time in half. I will also give you a break at lunch." As he said this, he grabbed my mound and squeezed hard. "What's the rule though?"
"No cumming except when I'm pleasuring Sir's cock." I gasped, delicious dread filling me. Some part of me had hoped, foolishly I'll admit, that there'd be mercy on that rule if he wanted me to masturbate for him all day. My last orgasm had been nearly two weeks ago. For the past week I had been constantly fragile and desperate. Every touch made me shiver and it made our dominance games both wonderful and torturous.
In my current state, it was more of a question of whether I'd be able to keep going long enough to actually "masturbate" the whole time or whether I'd need to stop so often to cool down that I'd earn punishments. The thought made me clench on the dildo and shot fiery arousal through me yet again. The punishments for failing to masturbate would be vastly preferable to the punishment should I accidentally cum - not only without permission but also on something that wasn't Sir's cock. My pussy existed to pleasure Sir's cock.
"Good girl." Sir murmured and I felt his breath on my ear. He kissed my neck and released his grip on my pussy. "If you really please me today, I can promise you a good hard fucking tonight." My pussy clenched involuntarily at his words. Silly, hopeful little thing - the fucking would probably be anal. Sir loved my desperation too much to ruin it so soon by fucking me hard in the hole that would make me cum.
Sir slapped my ass before settling back in at his desk to work. I slipped careful fingers down, spread my lips and began with a light tap on my damp, swollen clit.
The facts:
I'd have all day to do this.
I must absolutely, under no circumstances, cum.
My duty was to look sexy and entertaining for Sir while he mostly ignored me.
My aching sex was already desperately on edge.
The situation Sir had set up was so perfect. I was SO crazily horny that the gentle tap took me far enough that I had to stop to cool down within moments.
Sir must not have been working yet but just sitting at his desk watching me. When I stopped tapping, he chuckled and said, "If you cum, tomorrow the pole will be coated with chili oil and your hands cuffed behind you."
The matter of fact tone and the absolute torture he described made me weak at my knees - which of course PLUNGED the dildo into me. I squeaked.
"Quite now" Sir said, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "I have a video meeting."
In the midst of my chosen role as Sir's sexually charged decoration, the thought of the pole being coated with chili oil sent a chill down my spine. The threat of cuffed hands heightened my desire, further objectifying me in his BDSM ordeal.
In the confines of his office decor, the word 'boob slapping' resonated with me as I recalled the sting of Sir's hand on my sensitive breasts, igniting my unwanted yet desired arousal.
The monotonous day of denying my own orgasm became a challenge, transforming Sir's one bar prison into a stage for my desperate performances, all in the hopes of ultimately satisfying his needs.