The Wait

just to clarify…this is not Molly!!  (tho i can really picture her in this role!)  ~n~

She paced restlessly around the room.

“grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!”

“GGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!”

She stared down at the text message. All in caps, it read

“NO ORGASMS FOR 48 HOURS STARTING NOW”

Why did she have a Dom, anyway. Who cared what the fuck HE thought. It was HER body, HER pussy, HER needs.

He simply didn’t understand her. That was all.

She NEEDED a daily orgasm. Or two. Occasionally three. Okay, maybe more than occasionally, but certainly no more than four. Mostly.

She was needy, that was all.

He said she was greedy.

He said she needed ‘management’, whatever the fuck he meant by that.

He said she was undisciplined.

She wasn’t greedy. She liked what she liked was all.

She didn’t need some Domineering Man to tell her she could only pee between this time and that time, or shit on cue, anymore than she needed HIM to tell her when to cum.

Though she did enjoy His little Dom games. The spankings, the nipple torment. The multiple orgasms on HIS terms.

But denial had never come up before.

Not like this.

She paused, reread the text, then tossed the phone on the bed in her frustration. Geeze. She wasn’t 12.

“Orgasm management” she muttered along with various other unintelligible slurs regarding his heritage, the state of his parents marriage, and his mothers choice in footwear.

The phone on the bed chimed again.

“GREAT!” she exploded. “Now what. Time for subbie to take a wee-wee?”

She flopped onto the bed, and looked at the text.

“Stop Pouting.”

How he had gotten to know her so well in 10 weeks was beyond her. He’d told her he was going to occasionally tighten the reins, and apparently, this was that time.

Fucking Bastard.

She’d had that dream again. The one where that handsome older actor was sliding into her from behind, as his talented hands molded her tits, pinching her nipples…

‘ oh, oh yes, yes Sir…’

‘Don’t call me Sir, i work for a living you know…!”

and they had laughed and he’d fucked her silly.

She woke just before cumming, her pussy wet and pulsing softly, her clit swollen and insistent. Clit demanded attention.

Then the text had arrived.

She’d been steaming ever since and yet…the pulse of her pussy had only increased. Fucking Jerk!!

She rolled over onto her back, lifting her legs, heels near her ass, and lightly traced her cuntlips. Gosh was she soaked! So slippery. So wet. So hot. She was amazed steam wasn’t rising.

The smell of super-heated cunt suffused the room.

Her finger trailed up, gently touching the bud nestled between her swollen lips.

‘Gaaawd” she whispered into the silent room. Her hips lifted fractionally from the bed, increasing the pressure on her sensitive spot, eliciting yet another low moan.

The phone chose that moment to chime.

And chime again.

And chime again.

Oh, fercrissakes!! Keeping the pressure on her clit, she grabbed the phone with her free hand, and thumbed her text icon.

“No Touching.”

“NO touching.”

“NO TOUCHING. I *WILL* know, slut.”

Her eyes rolled, but her finger slid from her bud.

“AAARRRRGGGHHHH!” she yelled at the ceiling.

Chime.

Eyes still closed, she thumbed the icon, then lifted the phone and held it up over her face.

“Calling. Pick up.”

The phone rang and she answered.

“Yes Sir?”

“Poor little pussy. I’m guessing you’ve been a bit of a spoiled slut and been sitting there whining a bit, touching that lost land?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Yes, Sir, as a matter of fact, i was.  i did. i am.

“Hands off my cunt.”

His voice was hard, but not angry, and her hand rose from her pussy, wet and sticky with her juices.

“Clean your fucking hand up, and then you keep your fingers off of my cunt. Do you understand slut?”

She began licking and sucking her fingers. ” Yeth Thir”

“Good. Do not disappoint me, slut. I’m holding my hand over that hole, taking away all access to it. You keep fingers, toys, tools, anything, ANYTHING off and out of my cunt.”

“yes Sir”  Her voice came out in a soft little girl whisper now, as she felt His control over her. So strong, so commanding.  She hated it. She craved  it. Even this verbal reprimand. And she knew it was a reprimand.

Once before she had lost communication privileges for 24 hours for forgetting her subbie manners. It was a lesson not lost on her.

She would submit.

She would wait.

She was His.

“Yes, Sir, i will obey you.”

“Goood, that’s my good girl. Just remember, slut, My hand, My Control, covers your hole now.

Mine.”

The phone clicked and he was gone.

She would wait.

But for fucks sake it wasn’t going to be easy.

6 thoughts on “The Wait

  1. OMIGOSH, Niilla, that’s soooo fabulously hot. Whew. Ya know, I totally understand that this in NOT Molly, but actually, Molly doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yes, I love that control… even when it’s difficult to obey.

    aisha

  2. Wow. Very hot indeed. Can’t wait until Molly reads this one. And I suspect M will as well….you may be giving him ideas. Evil. Very Very Evil.

  3. Hey Nila,

    That was very very hot! I liked it a lot. But no, that is not a new idea for me, just much better written and hotter than the WC could hve produced. I have been considering just such a thing but I fear the consequences for my friend Mick!

    Keep up the great writing,

    The underproductive WC

    1. so many comments i could make…likkkeee…i hear you weren’t so “underproductive” saturday night (wink wink) And seriously is there any better feeling than that final OMG release after a bit of judicious waiting? MMMmmmmm!!!

      thanks for your kind words! i’m glad you enjoyed it too!

      nilla

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