It was just by accident that Emma discovered female orgasm denial. A cross posting from someone she followed on Tumblr.
She was instantly fascinated. She’d only started masturbating a few months before. Cumming felt so great, it seemed crazy that not cumming would be a good idea but, damn it just turned her on so much!
She was a natural, she loved edging, she loved how it made her feel, her long held inhibitions dropping away with every edge, her confidence growing.
She always wanted to be a blonde, and so instead of just dreaming about it, she just got it done. A new wardrobe started to emerge, where she wasn’t always covered from head to toe, and then, to her own amazement and religious parents’ shock, she got a piercing.
She discovered that she could earn much more washing cars if she only did it in a bikini than she ever did at the local coffee house, and honestly it made her feel good, the way the guys looked at her. She’d go and edge after every tip, she made sure to keep getting wet washing the cars or her dripping pussy would be blatantly obvious.
But she still wanted more, she craved more. Every day, every edge, she fantasised about her denial being taken out of her hands, under the control of someone else. More than someone, him. The one who’d introduced her to it.
She was desperate to impress, more desperate than anything even the denial had given her to date.
She saved up for some ‘sexy’ shoes and a corset, she’d always thought they were so hot, and she took a pair of scissors to her tightest jeans. Then, just to try and look more ‘sub’ she grabbed a pair of toy handcuffs she had found in the laundry once (she never asked) and snapped them on behind her back.
It was only after about 20 images she found one she was remotely happy with.
There was something about the desperation she conveyed in her message and picture that caught his attention.
He could work with desperation, it was the chief currency of his kink.
‘Cute, very cute,’ he replied, ‘but you can do better. Show me just how desperate you are to be my denial slut,’ He sent her two links to two items of clothing.
‘You want me to wear… those for you?’
‘Yes, and edge 20 times a day until they arrive.’
She struggled to even take the picture. ‘What, no smile for me?’ he asked when she sent it.
‘20 more edges then try again.’
‘Much better,’ he said when the next one came through.
‘Do I get to cum? Please Sir it’s been so long!’ she begged him.
‘No’.
Then he made her admit this made her even wetter.
She was so fucked.
Before long the bimbo outfits were all she wore when alone at home. She was on cam so much it felt strange not to be on show.
The edging, the hypnosis, his insistent commands made her so happy, she couldn’t even remember life before denial, she didn’t want to.
She was the perfect denial slut, HIS perfect denial slut.
Always wet, always wanting more. And he gave it to her, taking her desperate need down dark, fucked up places that she couldn’t even think about unless her fingers were kneading her swollen clit, and then it was all she could think about.
She was ruined, and she loved it.
What could be better? Just one thing.
She was finally ready to meet him.
Begin your slide at female-orgasm-denial.tumblr.com