Mr Biter messaged me on FetLife to check up that I was ok after we engaged in some mild play. One thing led to another…
“Are you naked and in bed? Or at least somewhere you can pleasure yourself?”
It was the start of him giving me instruction. He told me exactly what to do, and I obeyed.
Of course, he had to trust I did as he asked. And I had to trust he wouldn’t ask anything that broke my limits, or that he’d respect them, if I pointed them out.
But there was nothing too far out. He edged me, or rather got me to edge myself.
And he used all the verbal triggers I love…
Like calling me names… “Still wet you slut?”
Or combining positives with those names. Forcing me to answer questions that give me that rush of embarrassment and make me swear…”You’re my beautiful fucktoy aren’t you?”
And when in desperation I asked permission to come, he replied with a “No. Not until I say so.” It was an exquisite and torturous feedback loop, being so close and having that level of control which turned me on even more.
And after he did let me come (and I came so damn hard, I thought I’d explode), he told me I’d pleased him.
It ticked all my boxes.
And because I still had so much sexual energy and it seemed appropriate, I asked him permission to come again. Thankfully, he said yes.
Liked this Wicked Wednesday post? Please take a moment to support me on Patreon so I can buy myself a Queen Bee from Hot Octopuss (as well as take more sexy photos and write more posts to get you hot under the collar...)