Edging Through the Five Stages of Grief

He came in the door, bending to greet the dogs before standing to his full height to meet my eyes. He took his time looking me up and down, appreciating my tanned legs and short sundress. He closed the gap between us in three steps, leaning into me so I could feel his breath when he said “Upstairs, slowly.”

I walked slowly up the stairs in front of him while he lifted my skirt and watched; panties aren’t allowed unless he specifically requests them. When I almost got to the top stair, he pulled on my hair to make me stop. He pressed the small of my back to bend me over. I put my hands on the stairs in front of me and arched my back to present my ass to him like a good slut. His silent assessment made my body tense as I tried to anticipate his next move- am I going to feel a slap? A tongue? A finger? At long last he moved in behind me and started tonguing my ass. I shivered as I felt the gentle pressure in my most private area, darting in and out of my hole to coax a moan. His fingers entered my pussy as his tongue continued its assault, striking an unrelenting rhythm until my orgasm ungracefully buckled my knees. He laughed, but still offered no words.

He spun me around by my hips, sitting me on the top stair. His hands on my knees spread my legs wide, giving him access to lick cum from the full length of my slit. He then grabbed my chin, tilted my head up, and spit it in my mouth. The third word he said to me since his arrival was “Swallow.”

Then to the bedroom- I had asked (via prior text) to start gentle- my nerves were so frayed, I was worried about going right into the hard stuff. He massaged me head to toe, working to relax my muscles before giving my ass a good and gentle fingering. There were no more words, which had an intimidating effect- am I pleasing him? What is happening? What is he thinking? Not knowing drives me crazy.

Once I had relaxed around his fingers in my ass, he flipped me over and forced my legs roughly apart. He licked my pussy, starting slow and then holding me down as I squirmed.

His tongue teased my clit before his mouth wrapped around it to suck an orgasm out of me. He forced me to cum I don’t know how many times, still not saying a word- just looking at me with a challenge, knowing I would obey- cum. He then used his fingers on my clit, moving from forcing to edging. He continued slowly and steadily, bringing me right to the brink before letting off, smirking at my squirms and unrelenting pleas for relief.

As someone who is very rarely told no in her day to day life, being edged is a special kind of torture. The loss of that particular control- control over my own pleasure- hits me especially hard. The stages of grief at such a loss become strikingly evident, and I suppose somewhat entertaining or gratifying for this particular partner. During this session (and many others), he observed:

DenialYah right- he did not seriously just stop- but I asked permission and everything! Okay, he’s had his fun…he won’t do it again…I’ve been so good!

AngerOkay, seriously- fuck off. Please just let me cum- this isn’t fair!

BargainingPlease Sir, I’ll do anything! Please just let me cum…I’ll be such a good girl…

DepressionSir, it hurts- please, please let me cum. I know that he won’t, but I have to keep asking…eventually maybe he will take pity on me…

Acceptance. Acceptance comes with tears. My body is craving release so badly, that it gets it in another way. My mind has let go of the need for control- I have totally surrendered my fate, and my orgasm, to him. My pleading, no protesting- just quiet, tearful acceptance.

He doesn’t always go for the tears, but this time he did- he edged and edged me until he got the tears- because he knew that I needed it. Once he broke me like that, with me exhausted and submitted, things escalated.

He fucked my face until I was covered in spit down to my tits. He then hog tied me, and put a plug in my ass, collar on my neck, clothespins on my nipples, and ball gag in my mouth. He fucked me with a dildo so hard that I thought I would puke. With the combination of dildo and butt plug I just kept cumming- so far past exhaustion. I couldn’t even think about my orgasm, because my body and mind were just trying to hold on. He eventually switched to using his cock, and came inside me while pulling on the collar just hard enough for me to have to think about it.

After that he untied my arms, and turned gentle again. I thought it was (blessedly, finally) time for the cool down, but he grabbed my Satisfyer (side note: the closest thing to a purely physical orgasm that I have ever experienced- run, don’t walk to buy one of these), and he put it directly on my very hard clit (that hadn’t cum in a while). I screamed and tried to buck away but he had left my legs tied and was holding them down and open, completely overpowering me. I literally just had to take it, and it felt so good and so painful I didn’t know what to do. Just as I was about to go over the edge, he fucking edged me. I had had so much pain and pleasure by that point that I actually swore at him, which I never ever do. I was so angry and defeated.

That earned me 20 paddles, and he hit hard, bringing me close to yellow. I was openly screaming each time his hand made contact, but my anger and frustration at him for edging me during what I thought was going to be cool down was fuelling me to stubbornly keep taking it. When he was finished, and I could tell impressed, he informed me that it wasn’t going to be over until my clit came. He made me turn back over and open my legs on my own volition, which was so much worse than him forcing me because I knew I was opening myself up to the torture. He edged me over and over again, and because of the targeted toy on the tip of my exposed clit, every time he pressed it down it felt like I was going to pass out. He finally let me cum and I screamed like I was being murdered. He left it on until I cried.

By the end I was a crying, fragile, exhausted, fetal positioned mess, which is exactly what I wanted to be.

Then he finally cooled me down.

Read more stories about Mr. Grey here.

Published by aliddell106

30 something woman- writer of erotica, blogger of all things BDSM and beyond. Tall, curvy, blonde; intelligent, grounded, hilarious. High pressure job, experienced submissive.

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