Where my mind goes when my hands go where they like

My master is a man of his word. He teased me tonight, on the phone, but I'm in a period where I'd been told that I'm free. I was on denial for a few days, a gentle denial in which I could touch as I liked but not come, leading up to a tease last night where I knew I'd be allowed to come at the end. I love it all ways - the rough denial where he controls whether I touch myself or not, where he teases me at every chance, where he tasks me to tease myself, and any combination of these - but I love this too, just bringing a hint of D/s into our separation, not pushing my submission. And one of the things that I love is that I know he'd like to take it further, toy with me more, be harsher, but that he doesn't always.

So I came last night, after he'd teased me, and it was amazing. I'd been able to really fall into the tease, because I knew I'd be able to come and there was less holding back - not that I ever hold back on purpose, but if he's teasing me and I get desperate, or I get to the edge - when I know I'll be allowed to come I can take just that last little step, hold nothing back. So I was hot and desperate and broken, and he told me I could come, and I did, in this endless wave... And again this morning, thinking of it. So tonight, I thought I might not get into the play as much as I do when I've been denied for a while.

But, here's something I don't see people talk about as much on this site - there's one kind of hunger that comes from being denied, and another that comes from being sated. The more I touch, the more my clit longs to be touched. The more I come, the more I want to. So he teased me, and I did get hot, quickly, and my greedy, sated cunt wanted more, wanted to come again and again. I asked him, when he was done with me, if I was still free. And he said yes. Because he is a man of his word.

I thought he might prefer if I'd deny myself, though, and in any event I was very tired, and very hot, and I wanted to sleep. So I fell into this deep, heavy sleep, like being drugged, but my clit was throbbing the whole time, and I had these vivid dreams of denial. I woke up a few times, and felt how hot and hungry I was, and immediately fell back into this heavy, aroused sleep.

But then my teenager came home, and knocked on my door to tell me he was back, and I woke up, and wanted the pleasure of that drowsy touch, bringing myself close and then dozing off, then rousing to touch some more. I didn't have a plan about if I'd come or not, and I brought myself to the edge again and again, imagining my master, imagining him denying me... I'm not a great slave, sometimes, really, because while I love to touch and deny myself at his command, I also love that will-I-or-won't-I feeling when I'm in charge, and I don't have to adhere to a plan, and I can follow my arousal where it leads me.

And it led me to this, to imagining him letting me edge, as I was doing, and then making me stop. And I imagined a protocol that we don't have, that I'd be required, after edging - this is assuming we were together - to hold myself open for him and beg him to use me as he'd like. I imagined that he might stroke me lightly, and that part of the protocol was that I'd be required to beg him to deny me. And I imagined that sometimes I'd hold myself open and that he'd flog my pussy instead, that I needed to offer my most needy and tender and vulnerable bits to him to torture with the pleasure of denial or with a sharp pain, that I'd invited by opening myself to him.

And I imagined that I'd not been allowed to come for so long I couldn't remember the last time, and that he taunted me, gently, about could I remember when it was - no - and could I even remember what it was like - yes, yes please. And that I begged him to touch me harder, to let me touch harder, to let me edge again even though I knew I couldn't come, and that he denied me that, and just teased me lightly. And then he was aroused by my suffering, and told me to bring him off, so I took him in my mouth and tried to give him all the pleasure that I'd been denied, and then he pulled out of my mouth and fucked me, slowly, teasingly, teasing himself as well as me as he brought himself to the brink. And then he pulled out of me, and I held myself open again, and he came on my cunt, right on my clit that had been denied for so long, and when he was through he rubbed it in with his fingers.

And thinking of that I came, so grateful that my master uses me and teases me and denies me, and hurts me, but loves me and keeps me safe. I'm seeing him soon, and we talk about him beating me harshly, and treating me roughly, and I love pushing that. But I'm glad that I live my actual life, and not the one of some of my fantasies.