It was a rainy day. Sure, it wasn’t quite the horrible mind-killer you remember as a kid, when you couldn’t go outside. But as it stands, from a young age, you are conditioned to accept them as drab and dreary. A day virtually guaranteed to deliver boredom as grey and lifeless as the clouds outside. Yes, for some reason, even if you were not even planning to go outside, a rainy day still means your day is shot to hell.
Mistress loved these days, though. She referred to them as game nights. While for most people, couples in particular, that means it is time to break out the wine and board games, my Mistress had a few different ideas. See, Mistress is a phone sex femdomme, as well. And the game for today was going to be something she could do while working.
Mistress understands that just the sound of her voice is enough to drive most men wild. So, she frequently allows me to masturbate off in another room during her calls, as long as I don’t make a sound and do not interrupt her during the process. She is very kind in this way. Today, though, developed into a different sort of scenario.
With it raining outside, she had to think of a game. The game for today? Challenging me to masturbate continuously through ten calls, without cumming, while following her instructions before and after each call. If I succeeded, I would be allowed to devise the scenario for our next play time. However, if I was not able to meet the qualifications, I would have to eat my mess and would be in store for whatever punishment she desired. We have done a bit of coerced cum eating before, and I was not looking forward to it. It just always felt shameful and the humiliation of it just got to me.
So, that was her plan for today, a masturbation marathon with her in control during the entirety of it.
When Mistress left the house for a bit to do some errands about town, I thought it over for a little while. These sorts of wagers were things that we did on occasion. And I always had the option of turning her down. But I never did, because I did not want to disappoint her. And while it did seem like a daunting task–after all, hours could pass between calls–I knew that this time would be like all the others. I would, indeed, say yes. Once Mistress returned, I let her know that I accepted the physical challenge. She was excited. She got a few new items specifically for tonight, too, while she was in town.
As it turned out, I was tied to a chair in the bedroom. This is a big factor for me because bondage has always been sort of way hot and frequently plays a role in my masturbation fantasies. But when you add in a few of the things Mistress bought at the store, I knew I was in for a lot of trouble.
First were the nipple clamps. She connected the clamps with a shoe string, which in turn attached to a bit of rope that Mistress held on the bed. Next was the ball gag, to ensure I could not make a sound to interrupt her. Then, there was the vibrating dildo with a remote control that Mistress also controlled. Add all that together with Mistress’s commands during this prolonged guided masturbation session, and I was in up to my neck. I never said Mistress did not stack the deck in her favor, after all.
I was secured to the chair with my left hand free, which was placed in a leather mitten, just to make it even more unfair. She logged in, and before too long, the first call came. She said,”Stroke for me,” right before she answered the phone, and the game began.
During the first call, I got to warm up, stroking at a slow pace. She wanted to make it last, after all. Five minutes later, the second call came, and I had to go faster. She allowed me to slow down during the period between the second and third call. By the sixth call, I was looking ragged. She’d change the intensity of the vibrator, always leaving it on high during her coerced bi calls. Honestly, I didn’t know how much more I could take.
Did I win the game, you ask? No….Mistress always wins. My breath smells like cum, and we ended up performing her scenario for our next play session. What was that? Well, that is a story for another time.