Making me wait to make me wet

I have kink adventure planned for the coming weekend, so (consent pending) I’m going to get to make-out with two incredibly attractive humans. This piece of smut is dedicated to one of them, in the hope that it will remind her that she’s said she would do (consensual) evil, revenge things to make me wet when we next play together. It’s about a BDSM-y ritual that a couple undertake before their night at a kink club, and contains a little bit of humiliation play and pet play.

She doesn’t look at me while she paints her nails.

I sit on the sofa where she left me, doing my best not to squirm. My hands are cuffed behind my back, in the soft faux-suede restraints we bought the other week at the sex shop, and I’m sure it isn’t a coincidence that she’s painting her nails a dark purple to match them. The ball gag isn’t new, but it does stretch my mouth open and make me drool – as well as making it impossible to think about anything other than how much I want her to touch me.

She knows what she’s doing; she knows exactly how to make me wet. She’s fully aware that as I sit there, drool running from my mouth and unable to touch myself, all I’ll be able to think about is how her beautifully painted nails will dig into my flesh later. How she’ll idly hold the chain between the cuffs, as though it’s as normal as holding my hand, casually dismissing me in a way that makes me feel very submissive. How she’ll put her hand on my thigh possessively we’re sitting together, squeezing just hard enough to make me yelp. She’ll pinch my nipples cruelly until whimper, then twist them painfully, and while she’s painting her nails they are short and clipped and I know she’ll make me beg before she puts them inside my wet, needy cunt.

I whine around the gag thinking about it, but she doesn’t look over. Even though this is our regular pre-kink-night routine, it’s still ridiculously hot to be made to wait for her while she pretends to ignore me. The nonchalant objectification is my favourite kind of humiliation, and it makes me wet. So wet that I wonder if I’m making a mess on the sofa. If I am, she’ll take great delight in rubbing my face in my mess.

When she’s finished paining her nails, she’ll order me to my knees in front of her and carefully unbuckle the ball gag and . I put my mouth to use while her nails dry while filthy words about what she plans to do to me later spill from her lips. I love the helpless feeling of giving head when my hands are tied behind my back – I have to throw my whole body into it and she has no problem with pushing my head down if she thinks I’m not being enthusiastic enough.

Even while my face is firmly in her cunt, I’ll be aware of her perfectly painted nails. Later her fingers will pull my hair and fuck my cunt, but there is something about how still and wide she spreads them as the varnish dries that turns me on. It’s not only symbolic of everything that is still to come that evening, but also a show of how in control she is – of her own body, and of me.

My cunt doesn’t get touched until we’re in the car, when she’ll instruct me to spread my legs and touch myself. I edge myself for her on the way to the club, stopping just before I orgasm when she tells me to pull my hand away. When we get there, the cuffs will be fastened back on – in front of me this time so she can lead her pet around. I hope she’ll put make me wear the ball gag again tonight as well: the vulnerability of having my words taken away from me pushes me straight to the warm, floaty glow of subspace. I become dependent on her, and she takes care of me while teasing me with words that make me blush and make me desperate for her to beat me. When I’m a subby mess, that’s when she’ll turn to me with a sadistic grin.

“Are you ready for me to hurt you, Kitten?”

Even thinking about those words, sitting bound and gagged on the sofa in our flat, makes me shiver. The anticipation right now makes the pain she’ll inflict on me later with a sweet smile even more torturous. She makes me wait to make me wet, and I love it.

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If you liked this dirty story, you might also like this one about coffee shop domination, which you can hear read aloud as audio porn. Support me on Ko-fi to help me keep creating aural erotica. 

Quinn Rhodes

Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a freelance journalist, sex writer, and professional transsexual. His work focuses on dismantling shame and queering sex.