Earning the right to cum. - Sex Stories

Earning the right to cum.

“You wanna cum, huh?” I stared up at you wordlessly. It’s Monday morning and I’m perched on the kitchen stool drinking coffee, you were making eggs until I opened my big stupid mouth. Now you’re turned toward me, arms folded, spatula clasped loosely in one hand. Gaze steady. My hands fiddled with the belt that cinched around my waist and connected between my legs, and I wanted to yell back, yes, I want to cum I fucking need to, I’ve had this thing on me six months and it is slowly driving me insane.. but that wasn’t exactly an option. And ordinarily I could deal with it, with the constant feeling of emptiness and the fitful grinding squirming nights, (and the dreams, always the dreams) but this week I have assignments due, big ones, and I need to concentrate, if I could just cum once it might relieve the constant, nagging gnawing need.. He sighs. “Speak up, pumpkin.” I breathe in, shakily. “Well Daddy it’s just, I’ve got this project due in a couple of days and I’m pretty behind already, and I’m not thinking too straight and I just thought-” He casually cuts me off. I think of saw blades. “You just thought, huh.” My mouth shuts so fast I hear my teeth click. He advances on me. Stands over me, menacing, eyes burning a hole in the top of my head. I stare down at my coffee. I can feel my shoulders shivering, gooseflesh rising. He’s got a voice like teeth in your neck, Daddy does, and I hunch my shoulders around the nape of my neck in vain preparation. When he speaks, though, ...

... he’s sweet, and I nearly fall off my stool in surprise. “Well, I suppose it h-a-s been a long time, sweetheart. And if you’re struggling like you say you are, maybe this is just necessary. You’ve been a very good girl.” I look up at him with wild hope. “Really, Daddy?” He’s smiling. Well, he’s grinning, really, and some of that unexpected joy starts to curdle in my stomach. “Sure, baby. You know the rules though.” Showing his teeth now. I collapse in on myself. I do know the rules. I thought he’d take mercy. I had thought that, had counted on it, otherwise I wouldn’t have dared ask. “In order to cum I have to do something interesting.” My voice is dull. “Very good baby! And what does interesting mean?” “Whatever Daddy says it does.” “And what does Daddy normally think is very interesting indeed?” I swallow. Hear my throat click. Hear the roar of blood in my ears. He doesn’t prompt me this time, just waits. Looks. I’m trembling. “Giving up limits is interesting.” I get an approving smile for that. I drink in the scant affection. Hand on my chin. Caressing my face. Willing myself to keep focused on his eyes, catching my gaze every time it threatens to shuttle. “Now, let me think. We’ve already blown through quite a few of yours already, haven’t we?” He frowns, pretends to consider. I can’t speak. I know them all. I remember when they were ripped away. Sometimes he makes me cum to the memory of it, a vicious cycle. “And now I’m going to take one more. We’re getting among the really ...