Math Riddle

Master knows I suck at math.

I hate math, loathe math. Truth to tell…? I don’t even balance my checkbook anymore. It’s a serious thing, here, this math-hate. Because Master is *good* with math. Oh, perhaps not algebraic formulas or quantum physics kind of math…but he works in finance. And gosh, don’t tell Him I don’t balance my checkbook, He’ll brain me for that!

So He has set me a task.

A fucking MATH task.

I have to reference back to that Spoiled Slut post a few days ago (it’s here…)..because I think that is the beginning of the mess. Where He began realllllly toting up all my orgasms…and then…setting me to this new task. More on that in a moment, because there is more to tell.

So…there was Master, giving me a PAIR of orgasms on Tuesday. Instead of getting to my “task”, I got cruising online and then writing and didn’t get to my orgasm “duty” until after 11…but no problem, right? I’ve got 45 minutes. Who can’t cum twice in 45 minutes? And then I reread the text of all the things I must do to myself before cumming.

And I kind of stare at my phone. Like, really? Really Master?  Clothes Pins. Clamps. Vibrator on 50% and attacking my clit. Vigorously. And then.

The worst part of the task….having to climb His frikking “Mount Orgasm” three times before I could cum the first time.

The first time up I got hot pretty fast.  The second time was veerrrrryyyy close…I almost slipped over the edge with that one. But the third time? OH, that was a delight…right up until I had to put on the brakes, and wait to cool down.

My nipples were clamped, chain in my mouth. I was wearing clothespins, and tormenting my clit with my vibe per His directions.

That last trek up the mountain I was tired. My body was like “blah blah, Lucy and the football…I don’t believe you’re ever gonna let me cum” and I was hot.

Oh, so hot.

Fucking for all I was worth ..and it was good…felt good…but just…couldn’t….quite….get……






Frustrating. Aggravating. The cum was hanging right fucking there…and I couldn’t reach it.

I looked at my phone.

Holy fucking hell….

11:55 p.m.


I have 5 minutes left to grab this fucking orgasm or it’s LOST!

Dammit!! DAMMMITTT…..

Fast pumping of the vibe in my pussy…humping, squeezing, thrusting,  more dirty talking…then suddenly, there I was…thrust up and over the obstruction and I’m cummmmming…..and squirting….and floating…and gasping….

my bed, soaked.

11:58 p.m.

Made it.


Lost the second O that He’d gifted to me. So very rare for Him to give me two orgasms in a row. So very special. And I’d fucking blown it.

So of course I had to tell Him about it in my Orgasm report.

And that’s when I got The Math Problem.

“I want you to total up a close approximation of how many orgasms you’ve had since we’ve been a couple, nilla.”

“Be as accurate as you can be.”

“You may ask your readers to posit guesses…but YOU must do the math.”

He didn’t give me a “due date”….but I suspect it’s soon. (update: He sent me an email this afternoon. No orgasms until I get the answer back to Him. My “motivation”…clever Master Man! And yes, He now has the answer in His possession!)

We’re approaching  our 3rd year together.  We started talking the Autumn of 2009, not terribly long after I’d started my blog, and signed up for Fetlife. It was late in September, and we had planned to meet for the first time, in October. Which was postponed to November. And postponed to December. Postponed to January (fucking  hell! we had a lot of snow that year!!) when we finally met.

And fucked like bunnies.

But that’s beside the point.

So feel free to add your guesses… I’ll give you some data. I masturbated daily. Sometimes more than once a day. He only controlled my orgasms a few days before we met for playtime. We met once a month, until summer, when we had to postpone for about 3 months while He went to school.

He didn’t start to control my orgasms until collaring. That was a year ago February.

It’ll be interesting to see if any of you are close. I might have to award some kind of prize!

Okay, I’m off to count hatch marks. I wonder if I should shave 10% off the total so it doesn’t look like I’ve had as many as I have? He might take it in His head that I don’t need any for a while. Just sayin’ Master…I wouldn’t, not really!

Though  there is  my own personal  slut motto, yanno?

Life is short. Cum often.


*pause for the giggles*

Yeah, I don’t think He’s buyin’ it, either!