"No orgasm today for you, slave. You are going to be on restrictions for a while."
Master informed me this morning of this fact.
He meant while he's gone at work. Tonight...we'll see, I guess.
My trained orgasm on command is getting a little wobbly. Sometimes I don't get anything from the command. Sometimes it is just a little clench, a reaction, but not a whole orgasm. So he's working on a refresher training course, part of which is evidently not masturbating, and the other part is being restricted to just a few when we have sex, instead of a whole bunch of commands, with some working and some not.
So, of course, today all I can think about is how I'd like to masturbate and can't. I'll live.
Yesterday and the day before I didn't get all my assigned tasks done. It wasn't like I blew the whole thing off. I got most of them done, but I did spend more time than strictly necessary on the computer and thus had no real excuses when he asked me for the reasons. So last night I got "the talk", with me on my knees on the bedroom floor and him with the cane, applied for emphasis of each point of why I need to make sure I do these things. It makes me feel secure that he cares about the rules he's made, but also extremely embarrassed that I can't just get stuff done and end up putting it off so long that it can't be done that day, or just being lazy. Arg. So anyway, I was up bright and shiny this morning doing my tasks, the one from yesterday and today's.
After the punishment/absolution he set about caning me "for fun".
By the time he let me have an orgasm I was pretty desperate and needy. He had put the Hitachi on me, and made me hold my breath while he fucked me. He said I could have an orgasm if I could hold my breath all the way through "Bye Bye Miss American Pie".
He sang REALLY slowly. I didn't make it.
I started shaking my head only a few stanzas in, which is my signal for when I can't stand the not having air any more. He let me breathe. I begged, a whole bunch, but that was a no. He kept reminding me to wait. Finally when he let me have one it was HUGE, and it went on and on.
He also used the knife on me, scratching my back, and my labia, making me think he was giving them a trim. It hurt too, but not as much as if he was cutting rather than scratching. He asked me if I thought he really would do that, cut bits off, and I said no. Perhaps I'm wrong. But that is what I thought.
Think of the mess in the bed, after all!
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