Last night I dreamed about frantic masturbation. I cannot remember why I was jerking off so urgently in my dream, but upon waking up I found I was eager to continue rubbing my cunt under the sheets. This lead to my belated filth for this week featuring desperate wanking, the threat of impact play, and a humiliating mind-fuck.
I can’t come with just my fingers on my clit.
They can get me off with their fingers, and they’re unfairly smug about it. They’re not the only person who can bring me to orgasm with quick, precise motions, but they’re the one who holds it over me. We play with orgasm denial, and they take gleeful delight in controlling when I can come when we’re together. Their favourite game is to pull their fingers or my vibrator away at the last second and then laugh as I frantically rub at my clit, trying to capture the orgasm that has slipped out of reach. It’s evil, and I wish I didn’t love it so much.
Today I have carefully picked out lingerie that should tempt them into fucking me as soon as I let them into my flat. I want them to strip me quickly and fuck me roughly. I want them to bend me over the kitchen table and spank my ass, dipping their thick fingers into my cunt. I want them to tell me to spread my legs and fuck me hard with their hand over my mouth, muffling my whimpers. I want them to let me press my vibrator against my clit so I can come, clenching hard around their cock.
Of course, they have different plans. Plans for slow kisses and hard pinches, and plans to make me wait. Letting on that I am desperate to be fucked – that I’ve been wanking and thinking about their cock – usually leads to them teasing me for longer, so I bite my lip to hold back an impatient whine and try to relax into the sensations.
“Aww, are you a needy little slut?”
I nod as much as I can with their hand in my hair. Maybe, I think, they’ll be nice. Maybe they’ll fuck me. They slip a finger inside my cunt, and I moan.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Were you touching yourself earlier?”
I begin to nod again, stopping when they push the finger that’s wet with my arousal into my mouth. I suck obediently, grinning at my own taste.
“Hmm…” They slowly pull their finger out of my mouth and drag it down my chin, making me squirm. There is something dirty and wrong (in such a hot way) about them rubbing my saliva over my face.
“I planned to get out the flogger and turn your arse as red as your blushing cheeks, but I feel like you’re going to be a squirmy little brat and not stay still while I hurt you.”
They bend their head so their breath is hot against my ear. “You’re so pathetic like this. You’d say yes to anything, wouldn’t you? I want to watch you try and get yourself off with your fingers. I want you to lie on your bed and spread your legs and let me watch you get more and more desperate as you realise that wanking won’t tip you over the edge to an orgasm.”
I’m not sure what sound escapes my mouth, but it makes them smirk.
“You like that idea. Don’t lie: I know how wet your cunt is right now. If you can make yourself come, I will fuck you hard and fast, exactly how you want me to. You want to feel my cock twitch as I come deep inside you? Well, I want to beat you. And I want to use the cane you hate so much. If you can’t make yourself come, I’m going to, and I’m going to get off on hurting you like that.”
I whimper again, suddenly feeling vulnerable and small in their arms. They steady me before stepping away, and push me gently in the direction of my bedroom.
“You have ten minutes, slut. Touch your hard, needy clit.”
I want them to touch me, but instead they lean against my desk. They don’t say anything as I scramble on to the bed and lick my fingers before starting to make small circles on my clit. It’s too much, to lie there with them looking at me. I flip over, hiding my face in my sheets and moving my fingers faster and faster on my clit. I can feel their gaze on me, making me feel exposed and dirty.
“You look beautiful like that. You are going to look more beautiful when you are covered in my marks later. You’ll beg to suck my cock and hump your wet cunt against my boots. You won’t be allowed to come.”
I moan. I am desperate to come right now, wanking furiously with my head buried in the duvet. My clit is throbbing and my cunt is clenching in need. I need to come; I can’t let them win. My fingers speed up, and I can feel the orgasm building, and creeping within reach. I push myself up so I can pinch one of my nipples. I am so close I can almost taste it…
I collapse: panting, sobbing.
“Aww, couldn’t you come? I guess it’s time to get the cane out.”
“Fuck you,” I spit out.
“You wish,” they reply, and grab my hair again to pull my face up so they can kiss me hard.
They use bondage tape to secure my hands together so I can’t keep touching my cunt. They make me wait as they pick out which mean, hitty thing they’re going to use to mark me. They tell me how much they’re going to enjoy making me cry with the pain and desperation. They hurt me, and then come all over my red, smarting ass.
I can’t come with just my fingers on my clit, even when they’re going to beat me if I can’t come. Maybe because they’ve threatened to beat me if I can’t come…
Masturbation Monday is run by the fabulous Kayla Lords. Click on the logo to see what everyone else is getting off to this week.
This post is brought to you by the Zumio, which (while not explicitly stated) is the vibrator that the protagonist in this particular piece of filth was planning on using on her clit while her partner fucked her with their cock. The Zumio is designed for powerful and precise clitoral stimulation, and you can buy this awesome vibrator from the Pleasure Garden.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.