Burner Phone

The burner phone had been loaded with the wireless vibrator's control app and tested on your eager pussy before we'd left the apartment. Granted that test had been more of a tease as I'd made you stand out on the balcony in the fading Fall light with your legs spread, back straight, hands behind your head, short dress pulled up to your waist, and your dark, panty-less bush wild and free. I ground your clit with my tongue and thumbed your vaginal opening until your juices were flowing nicely before shoving the wireless toy deep inside you as you moaned.

A quick pulse from the burner phone, cycling up to maximum in moments before slowing the toy to a stop after about twenty seconds. Just enough to make you buck your hips, grind your clit on my tongue even more, and moan softly when I pulled the toy from your pussy. I made you lick it clean and then told you to finish getting ready.

The toy and the burner phone came out again once we were at the dungeon. I made you spread your legs in the passenger seat of the car and shoved the toy inside your still-wet, needy pussy whose clit I had been casually fingering while driving with my other hand. I tested the phone once more, delighting in your wide-eyed gasp, before exiting the car, grabbing the toy bag, and leading the way inside.

The common area was next to a small, communal kitchen. Overstuffed, faux leather couches lined the walls of the common area and were where many dungeon-goers tended to hang out and talk quietly--whether catching up, negotiating a scene, or very quietly and unobtrusively having one.

I sat at the end of one of the couches and you sat next to me on the arm. And then later, you were sitting in my lap, squirming. Sometime after that, while I was putting together a plate of snacks in the kitchen, you were up against the wall, in a corner, legs held tightly together, eyes pleading with me, me ignoring you.

Because all the while, my fingers had been touching that burner phone and the vibrator app--frequently sometimes, other times less so, dialing up and down your pleasure as you mingled and chatted and tried to pretend that I hadn't been edging you for the past two hours.

Finally, an old friend of mine agreed to chaperone the burner phone during our upcoming scene for a kiss--which he announced while decidedly looking at your pouty, needy lips. But he didn't say who would be doing the kissing, so I agreed on your behalf and then pulled him into the deepest, tongue-fucking kiss that made him pause, then lean into it, then moan and gasp as I pulled back, laughing.

In the dungeon play space, I strapped you into a height-adjustable queening chair--a wooden chair with a large gap in the seat and straps for ankles below, wrist cuffs on the chair's arms, and a strap for the neck on the chair's back. I strapped you into the chair silently, your eyes locking with mine whenever you could catch my gaze. Those dark eyes, desperate, pleading, longing, knowing... breathtaking. I had to reach out and flick your clit with a finger to make you gasp and look away lest I completely lose my concentration.

One of the dungeon monitors on duty helped raise the queening chair to a good height, just below the top of my head, where all I had to do to grind your swollen, needy clit with my tongue was tilt my head back ever so slightly.

The pink antenna of the wireless toy was sticking out and forward, and I turned it around so easily in your slick pussy to keep it out of the way.

I signaled to my friend who set the remote vibrator to pulse slowly at first, then faster, then slower, all random, all chaotic, all as negotiated. He had also been directed to, at times, set the device to maximum for a sustained period to allow you to get closer and closer before your orgasm was snatched away again and again.

You watched me make that signal before taking an anticipatory deep breath. Your slick pussy lips were already drooling. I let my friend tease you with the app for a couple of minutes before my tongue found your clit, and you gasped, "Fuck! Thank you, Mistress!"

Behind me, my friend handed the burner phone to a spectator, who, under my friend's negotiated supervision, dialed up and down the waves of pleasure teasing you, controlling you, driving you closer and closer to a teetering orgasmic cliff that seemed to be so... far... out... of... reach.

When the third person took the phone and your pussy was now dripping a string of grool toward the floor, I used my thumb on your spit-slick clit to grind you until your hips were bucking again, and you were begging me, pleading with me to let you cum. There were tears forming at the edges of your eyes, and you were covered in a very fine sheen of sweat.

When the fifth spectator took control of the burner phone, both of your bound legs were shaking, your head was thrown back, and you were gasp-grunting between whispered begs and pleas. Drool was freely running down your chin, and the hair on your forehead was slicked into strands with your sweat.

The goo string from your pulsating, needy pussy had nearly reached the floor.

When the sixth spectator took control of the burner phone, you were shaking all over, and a second string of grool had begun racing the first.

"Mistress! Please! Mistress... oh, fuck!" You were all but sobbing as the spectator cycled through what they presumably thought were some fun options that really ensured that you were slowly driven insane.

Perfect.

I pulled another, more powerful vibrator from the toy bag, turned it on, and touched it to your clit. You screamed.

When the eighth spectator had finished remote vibing your overflowing pussy, I nodded to my friend who turned off the app.

Under the sole power of the second vibrator, you were still moaning, mewling, lost. I pulled the wireless toy out of you with a solid yank. You sobbed at that. My fingers replaced it, slamming up into your utter wetness, vanishing into your slick hole, gripped desperately by your gooey, hot walls--walls through which my overly slick fingers could feel your rapidly beating pulse.

I finger fucked you hard, breaking the strings of girl goo just as they touched the floor while rapidly causing others to form and start to race to join the first two.

"Mistress! Please! Fuck. Please..." This last was an almost silent whisper, the most distant thought of nothingness that your mind could lock onto because you were so lost and desperate and at my utter whim.

Slamming my grool-covered hand into you, I looked up and ordered you to meet my gaze. It took a long moment before your almost vacant, pleasure-lost eyes focused on me. Your flushed, sweaty face and dark, slicked-down hair were devastatingly radiant, and so fucking sexy.

Jamming my fingers into you hard and fast, holding the vibrator tight to your swollen, aching clit, I simply said, "Cum."

I pulled my fingers out and you screamed again, long and hard. And I stood beneath you, showering in the squirting explosion that was the desperate, shattering release of your long-awaited orgasm.