The ache

You know that ache.

The dull ache inside when you long to be fucked.  When you ache for the feeling of a cock deep inside, being fucked, being fucked hard. 

"You have that ache right now . . . don't you?" I asked.

The glazed eyes looked up at me, and although I already knew the answer I forced the words to come from your lips, to watch the cheeks burn with humiliation.

"You want that physical release.  The mental release that being fucked and used brings . . .don't you?"

The eyes once again gave it all away and when no words were forthcoming I pulled back my hand and made contact with the already reddening cheek which reddened more deeply with the sting of my palm.

You already knew that begging doesn't touch me.  That while yes, I can quite happily watch someone begging, pleading, but, it doesn't touch me. It doesn't make me weaken or give in, in fact it makes me the opposite, it hardens me.  I know, I can be incredibly stubborn at times.

"You know that I will use your need against you . . .don't you?"

"Yes. I. Know." you replied in almost a whisper.

I am watching you closely, the look in your eye, the desire, the wanting and the needing so clear that it doesn't need words to voice it.  I know you too well.  I know the longing that you have.  I know that you want to be taken and used.  But I have no intention of doing so, or at least not in the way you are wanting right then.

Instead I sit back in the chair and watch you, your legs shaking a little from where you have been in the same position for so long.  You are shifting slightly.

"So. You want it.  Beg."

And there it begins, your begging and pleading.  You tell me how you are a whore and a slut and need to be used like one.  You tell me that you need to be filled and stretched, fucked and hurt.  You beg me for it to happen.  You beg with humiliation, shamelessly pleading.

I request you to start playing with yourself while you're begging, and smile at the sharp intakes of breath between the movement of your hands as you build closely to an orgasm.  You know that you will not orgasm without being told you can, and I tell you to keep begging, to keep playing, and your mind struggles between trying to do these two things at once.

Knowing that you want something so much, makes me want to not give it you at all.  To do everything else but give you what you want at that moment.   Instead I want to tease you, to torment you, to hurt you. But not to give you the one thing that you're pleading for.  This thought satisfies part of my own sadism, making you suffer all the more brings me pleasure.

Making you suffer makes me wet. 

You are desperately not trying to come, the precum glistening on the end of your hardened cock. Your hand easing off every now and then as the concentration on your face intensifies the closer to orgasm that you are.

"You want to be fucked and used and stretched . . .then you can do it yourself."

You look confused, struggling to comprehend what is being asked of you.

"Use your fingers. Finger your ass."

A look of disappointment passes fleetingly through your eyes and your face, as I raise my eyebrows at the brief display of your frustration.You sucked your fingers, made them wet and started to use them on yourself, your other hand still pumping up and down your cock.  I enjoyed watching the movements of a novice contortionist as you tried to do the things you'd been instructed, I enjoyed watching the physical struggles that you were having, the struggles of trying not to come, the emotional struggles as you battled with the emotional feelings, the humiliation of fingering your own ass while masturbating your cock, all while I sat and watched.

I am whispering into your ear, telling you how dirty you are, how much of a slut that you are, and telling you that I know you want me to fuck your ass and to fuck it hard.

I decide to make you show me how hard as I pass you the glass dildo that I had bought just for this occasion.  Your eyes had balked at the sight of the double ends, one much bigger than the other.  The fear in your eyes now as I looked at one end and then the other was as plain as day.

I forced the small end of the dildo into your mouth, telling you that which end I used would depend how well you sucked it.  Except, I already knew which end I was going to use.  

You suck it hard, gagging as it hits the back of your throat.  And you are sucking and fingering yourself and your cock is still in your other hand as you're taking yourself to the edge time and time again.  

You plead with your eyes.  You beg with your mouth.  Except it falls on deaf ears.  

"Now, which end would go in easier?" I ask.  You do not reply. Instead as I inspect it and smile, you already know what your fate is about to be.

I remove it from your mouth, forcing the wider end of the dildo into your mouth, forcing it into your throat. You're gagging, tears forming in your eyes, breathing heavily, gasping, choking.  

"Now fuck yourself"  as I pass him the dildo with the large end facing him.

"You know what to do.".

You are distracted from the edging, as you struggle to push the end of the glass dildo into your well fingered ass, and as you force it into yourself, you are fucking your ass with the glass, edging yourself frantically.  Wanting to please, wanting to orgasm.  And the dull ache of wanting to be fucked has turned into the longing ache to orgasm.

And you begin to beg and plead all over again, I beckon you over and you crawl towards me on your knees, the glass dildo protruding from your ass.

"Don't stop" I tell you as I push your head down between my thighs, sitting back, closing my eyes, knowing that the dull ache to be fucked is not yours alone.