Not One, but Five

One thing Rhea takes pride in and loves about what we do is the power it gives her over my sexual pleasure. Last night, she was sure to remind me of the fact that it’s not only in her control when I don’t have an orgasm, but definitely also when I do have one.

The night was starting to wind down, we had done most of the things we had planned to do for the day, and she knew just how horny I was. Under her instructions, I stripped my clothes off and laid back on the bed. She took hers off, and climbed over me. Within no time, my already semi-erect dick grew even more at the touch of her skin sliding over it.

I was too eager for this.

After telling me how excited she was to edge me, she sat between my legs and slowly began to tease and gently stroke me, adding the oil into the mix.

I was loving what I was feeling, but I had a strong urge to have my hands tied. I wanted to feel completely in her control while she did this. She hadn’t suggested it herself, so I wasn’t going to ask for it. She could tell there was something about me though, and asked if I had anything to say. I told her that I had the want for it, and within a few minutes my hands were bound to the bed posts.

Now that my hands were out of the way, she started back on me. Almost immediately after starting, I felt the strong want to orgasm, but didn’t expect it since she had let me have a few within a short time frame recently. There’s no hiding anything from her, though. She asked if I was desperate for one, and I couldn’t lie. She joked that this would be the perfect time for post orgasm torture.

I figured that by her saying that, alone, I likely wouldn’t get one at all.

I told her to stop just as I was about to explode but she didn’t. She kept right on stroking me into an orgasm and as it dwindled down, I didn’t feel her stroking slow down at all. She eventually sped it up even more, and I knew this was really happening. My dick felt sensitive to the point that I didn’t think I’d survive another second. Through all of the thrashing and begging, she continued, and before I knew it, I was having a second orgasm. Still, she didn’t slow down one bit. I moved my hands forward to finally push her off, and was quickly reminded that I was still tied down.

A third was pulled out of me.

I told her I was going to die if she continued. That didn’t matter. She just constantly reminded me that I wasn’t dead yet as time went on. She went on to tell me that if I can give her two more, she may stop, but she also thought about me having a total of ten orgasms.

I didn’t know how I’d make it through two more, let alone seven. By this point, I was just trying to force myself to have the orgasms to end this torment. I focused and had the two more, just as she wanted. The strange thing is that even though the torture between them felt almost unbearable, the orgasms themselves increased in intensity with each one that followed. For a moment after, she continued, but stopped after scaring me for a second.

She’s done post orgasm torture before, but never pulled another orgasm out of me beyond the initial one, let alone four more. I couldn’t muster the energy to move, at all. I was just a pile of mush as she untied my hands. Then I realized just how fucking much I truly love orgasm control.

One aspect that’s focused heavily on is the fact that when you get into this that you’re denied orgasms. That’s true, without a doubt, but that also gives your partner the same power with determining how many you do get. On that specific night, Rhea wanted me to have five, and that’s exactly what she got. It’s funny too, because just a day or two ago I was joking with her that the unpredictability of orgasm control, even if you get one every single day, is my favorite thing about handing over the control to her.

I’d never have it any other way.



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