Orgasum Denial Novels & Stories

Grinds in tight circles while his fingers work inside me, and the dual stimulation, internal and external, my g-spot and my clit, sends me rocketing toward the edge. “I’m going to cum, please, don’t stop, I’m right there— please please PLEASE—” He stops. Fingers out. Thumb gone. Nothing touching me except the air and the relentless throb of the clamps on my nipples. My pussy convulses around emptiness, clenching, grasping, desperate, and the denied orgasm retreats in a sickening wave that leaves me sobbing. “NO! No no no, Kai, please, I was, why—”

Her orgasm broke free from any restraints holding it, and so her fluids poured out. As a result, Denny's plan to deny Trisha of pleasure was a failure. He realized he should change his plans—this time, instead of denying her, Denny was thinking about making her come as much as she could count. Thinking about making her cum one after another. He will exhaust her to a series of orgasms. "Oh, no, honey," Denny chuckled. "I am not going to let this one easy," he threatened, grinning widely. "Since you do not know how to hold your cum, I will let you count how many times you are going to reach your orgasm tonight."

"And my, um, little problem? With my legs? You didn't even test me or anything." He closed his eyes briefly, a slight grimace flashing across his face before he opened them and looked at me. "It's nothing to worry about," he said. "Alcohol can cause sexual arousal in some people. That's perfectly normal. No need for a test." "But you could do a test?" I asked. "Like... like maybe you could examine me?" "Examine..." he started, then trailed off as he stared at me. "What?" "You know," I said. "Like, examine me. Just... just in case."

Emily leaned forward, her green eyes glinting with curiosity. "So, what exactly did you two get up to? Any juicy details you can share?" Sophia shifted in her seat, the wine glass cool against her fingers. "Oh, you know. Just basic 'do as you're told' stuff." She took a long sip, buying time. Fuck it, she thought. In for a penny... "And, uh, orgasm denial." Emily's eyebrows shot up. "Orgasm denial? Damn, girl. You jumped right into the deep end, didn't you?"

I keep wondering but my mind keeps telling me it’s because I don’t meet up to his expectations. I can’t help knowing that I was denied an orgasm back there. All the while we were in the car, I clasped my thighs together to retrain myself from dipping two fucking fingers into me and making myself cum. The tingling feeling was super powerful. Potent. Even now, my sex is still swelled up, despite having given myself some pleasure in the shower to the thought of David in my messed up mind. You know what? Orgasm denial is one of the worst punishment one can give to another. How can you pull someone over the edge, drugging their minds with smoking hot kisses, and leave them on a thin line?

“He even planned to inject Astrid with hormones, to make absolutely certain of it.” The words struck me like a blow to the gut. My stomach twisted violently, bile rising as the reality of his confession sank in. The idea of manipulation, of being used as nothing more than a vessel, made my skin crawl. My hands curled into fists at my sides as I fought to steady myself. “I have no desire to bring another child into this world right now,” I said firmly, my tone hard enough to slice through the air. “There will be no forced heat. But I will allow him to mark me.” For the first time, a flicker of relief softened Alaric’s expression. The tension in his shoulders loosened slightly as he exhaled. “

The thought is so intensely filthy I actually drop the tablet on my lap. I pick it back up just as fast and keep reading. I find a thread on sensation play. Temperature variance. Vibration. I find an article on edging. Orgasm denial. The concept alone makes me furious. The idea of being kept right on the brink and refused the release sounds like absolute torture. I hate the thought of it. It makes me want to punch a wall. It also makes my pulse jump. I scroll further. I read about ruined orgasms. I read about discipline regimens. The vocabulary of the subculture washes over me. Brat. Dom. Safewords. Aftercare. Drop.

I said and licked my lips. That’s right, I haven’t told him who I am or what I am yet given that the situation is really stressing and Ashley refused to talk about his condition. I can’t just pop out and be like ‘hey remember when you always called me Satan spawn? Well, here we are, you’re kind of on point on that one’ Just… no. I don’t think that’s a good idea and I’m not sure how he’d react dating a demon—or fucking a demon at that. Ashley may be kind but even hardcore BDSM enthusiasts have hard limits and this could be his.

He does. The orgasm rips through him like a seizure. His whole body convulses, his cock pulsing inside me as he empties everything he has — days of denial, hours of edging, all of it released in one overwhelming flood. He screams my name, or maybe he screams for mercy, I can't tell anymore. I just ride him through it, milking every drop, feeling him fill me up until there's nothing left. When it's over, he goes limp beneath me. His eyes are glassy, his breathing shallow, his cock softening inside me.

At that instant, we hear Sandra say, “Hello Steven! How was your trip?” “O fuuuuuck!!!” I say forcefully. He shuts my mouth and yet he keeps moving, slowly and the very next moment increases his pace to fast, big strokes and somehow at the same time gentle, it's impossible to explain but a sweet and strong and deep orgasm goes through me while I have to try to keep my mouth shut.