[ad_1]

**Content includes: Lesbian, bondage, punishment, clit torment, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, healthy relationship**

***

I test the bonds for a while, but Mistress has done a good job of tying me, as usual. Her knots were a bit weak when we first started playing together, and I’m pretty good at squirming out of loose ropes, but it’s been seven years. I don’t have any new tricks left in my book, everything I have to try she’s seen a dozen times before.

Meanwhile, her well of ideas never seems to run dry. Our tastes have varied over the years, from more generic bondage to petplay to a really fun anal phase, for a while we even experimented with switching, but for the past couple of years we’ve been settling into a routine that works really well for us. I love orgasming – a LOT. I was a bit of a pillow princess when we first started dating, focused on my own pleasure. Now, to keep me focused on hers, I spend more days than not denied. A seven-to-one ratio works well for us. I give her seven, and I earn one for myself.

We were dead even last night, for once the score was settled. It was a good night. But today I just had to go and poke the hornet’s nest and say that one word Mistress doesn’t like, that one little n-word. And no, I’m not a racist. Mistress doesn’t like being told “no”. When this collar is around my slender neck, I can say anything but *that.*

“What did I tell you I’d do to you last time?” Mistress asks me once I settle down from my squirming. She’s perched watching me, calm and patient, her hands placed primly atop her thick, soft lap with her legs crossed at the knee. She looks so elegant, so disappointed, like a sexy librarian about to discipline me for returning a book late. Maybe I should suggest that idea for a scene… when she’s in a more receptive mood.

“You said you’d wash my mouth out with soap, Mistress,” I answer obediently. I can sense danger. She’s in the mood to hurt me tonight. Of course, I’m in the mood to like it.

“And?”

“And you did. I didn’t like it,” I add, making a face at the memory of the bitter soap and the gross perfumey taste it left in my mouth for a couple of hours. It was a surprisingly effective punishment for a pain slut who just gets off on being spanked or whipped or slapped.

“But you did it again anyway. I have to admit, it was amusing seeing you spit suds… you pulled such a cute face. But no, this time I have a better idea,” Mistress says with a wicked smirk. She pulls the cloth off of our play table, revealing the things she’s brought to torment me: toothbrushes and toothpaste.

I can’t help but smirk, and even giggle a little when she squirts a small dollop onto a brand-new soft bristled toothbrush. I can’t see what she’s doing too well from my position, as she’s tied me to our gynecology chair this time so that she can easily access my snatch between my wide open legs.

“Oh, kitten,” she laughs, settling down on a stool between my legs. “This isn’t for your mouth.” Then she pushes the toothpaste-covered brush between my pussy lips and begins to brush like I’m overdue for a dentist’s appointment. The sudden harsh scrubbing makes me jump, the bristles scraping across my most sensitive region, but compared to some of the spanks and smacks and wartenburg wheels she’s applied down there, the brush itself isn’t too bad.

Then the minty toothpaste starts to hit me. I suck air between my teeth as I feel the cooling sensation start. She’s careful and thorough, going from back to front, brushing it across the entrance to my cunt, across the opening of my urethra, in between every fold and every crevice, and then she reaches my clit.

“Please don’t brush me there,” I beg.

She pauses for a minute and looks up at me with a wicked grin. “Well, to quote you earlier… **no**,” she answers with a giggle, and starts brushing my clit.

I throw my head back with a dramatic groan, appreciating her use of irony. I deserved that. The brush on my clit, on the other hand, is actually pretty pleasurable. It’s almost like I can feel every bristle touching me all at once, hundreds of tiny points of stimulation, of pleasure. Like a good body brushing at the spa, the bristles encourage blood flow. So does the mint. But the intense mintiness, right against my clit… now that’s another story. It goes from good to overwhelming in a matter of seconds.

I whimper and try to squirm away, but she’s bound me well. There’s nowhere for my hips to go. I’m strapped at the waist, roped at the thighs, my legs spread to their limits. My arms are by my sides; I can wiggle my fingers and lift my head, but that’s about it. I gaze down between my small, perky tits at where Mistress is working attentively on my greedy cunt, brushing me with a serious, focused expression on her face.

She looks so gorgeous like this, her dark hair pulled back and a sports bra on to keep her big breasts from getting in her way as she works. Her arms are big and soft, but her touch is firm and purposeful as she carefully scrubs my clit, giving it a thorough coating of toothpaste. I remember when we first met, how shocked I was that this soft desi girl with her posh British accent was a top. She hasn’t stopped surprising me since. I love her, but goddamn this is getting uncomfortable.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she chides me, looking up at me with a cruelly arched brow. “You could have learned your lesson last time.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” I joke, feeling brave despite how intense things are already. It’s hard to feel intimidated by your girlfriend holding a cheap yellow plastic toothbrush, probably one of those freebies that nobody ever uses.

“Well, I’m glad you’re having fun,” she replies primly, and pulls out the alligator clamps. Now I’m in for it. At this moment she’s not just my girlfriend, she’s my Mistress – and she’s gonna make damn sure I remember that. These are the tightest, sharpest, least comfortable clamps we own, and we have a dozen of them. She pinches my labia majora and applies one carefully near the base, right next to my fuckhole. I grunt with discomfort as the metal teeth bite in, not hard enough to draw blood but not far from it. The second one goes on at urethra level. The third, near the top of my lips just above my clit.

The opposite side gets the same treatment. I’m breathing a little harder by this point, a light sheen of sweat over me as I try to cope. Clamping my pussy so cruelly is a pretty bad punishment, but combining that with the toothpaste… that’s tough. I can’t tell if the clamped outer lips are in more pain, or the burning inner pink parts.

Out comes the duct tape. She spreads me open using the clamps, taping them to my thighs so that my cunt lips are stretched wide open like some rare rainforest flower. She knows my anatomy well, knows just where to place each clamp so she can open me up as thoroughly as efficient, see everything that I might prefer to keep hidden. No one can make me feel as good as she can, which also means that no one else knows how to hurt me this good.

I hear her remove the toothpaste cap and I brace myself for a second round of brushing now that she can better see what she’s after. What I’m not expecting is the sudden buzzing sound. It doesn’t sound like one of our toys – I lift my head and my eyes immediately go wide. She’s not holding a sex toy, she’s holding a toothbrush. It’s an electric toothbrushes, the intimidating spinning head well slathered with toothpaste, and there’s a sadistic smile on her face as she turns it off and on a few times.

I take a deep breath and brace myself, but I’m not ready. The buzzing, the rotating, the bristles dragging across my flesh at high speed, driving the toothpaste into my skin… I cry out sharply as she applies it to my inner lips for a couple of seconds before pulling away. The spot she hit burns intensely, it feels like it got powerwashed by a blizzard, so cold and so intense yet so numb at the same time. I can barely describe it, can only lay there and cope for a moment.

“Do you need to safeword, kitten?” she asks, watching me intensely.

I swallow and take a deep, nervous breath. “No,” I say, a little ashamed by just how much lust drips off of the single syllable.

She laughs deeply at this, back in full sadist mode immediately upon hearing my masochism come out in full force. I love to be hurt as much as she loves hurting me, and she’s gonna make this time something special.

Her precise hands bring the toothbrush back to my spread slit, brushing it slowly and precisely, leaving no nook or cranny unscrubbed. There’s toothpaste everywhere, mintiness everywhere, tenderness everywhere – it’s more intense than a bit of peppermint extract rubbed around alone, more intense than a rough scrubbing with a wet rag to clean me up, more intense than those mild vibrations would usually be.

The pain is a seven out of ten, high but not not at my limit. The issue is that my arousal is at an eight or a nine, and the two combined is overwhelming. I’m being overstimulated in every efficient way, and my clit is loving it, throbbing so intensely I can feel my pulse in it.

Finally she turns the attention of the electric toothbrush there. I scream as she applies the rotating head right to the tip, the bristles encircling the glans, pushing toothpaste under the hood. The vibrations are going straight through me. I could easily cum this way. “Permission to orgasm, Mistress?” I whimper once I discover my voice again, feeling it create in me.

“Denied,” she answers smugly. “This is a punishment, my little pillow princess. No cumming.”

I groan in disappointment, resting my head back as I try to control my breath, control my body, back myself off from the edge. It’s a struggle, my self-control against the electric toothbrush, my willpower against Mistress’. It’s a battle, because the more I center myself, the more sore my clit gets as the constant motion of the bristles and slight abrasion of the toothpaste rubs the skin raw. I can feel it swelling up, getting even more sensitive.

Then she pinches my hood and pulls it back so she can get every last bit of my clit, target it directly with the buzzing brush. This almost pushes me over. I whimper and shake my head, my thighs straining against the ropes so hard I can feel them biting in. I could give myself bruises pulling this hard, but there’s no way to just go limp and accept this punishment. Every nerve is firing at once. The mintiness is somehow hot and cold at the same time, torture and exquisite pleasure.

Just when I think I can’t possibly hold back anymore, Mistress pulls the electric toothbrush away. “Are you on edge, kitten?” she asks me, placing one finger on my clit, stroking it lightly. It’s enough to make me shudder.

“Yes Mistress,” I admit openly, unable to hide how desperate I sound, though I don’t beg for an orgasm. I’ve already been denied, and I don’t want to test her patience.

She lets me calm down for a minute, and then she pulls out the first toothbrush again, the manual one. A fresh squirt of toothpaste and it’s ready to go. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief, at least this one is less intense.

But she’s not retreading old ground. Without any warning she shoves it into my cunt, pushing the brush almost all the way inside me. I moan loudly, shocked not only by how abrupt it is, how unexpected, but also how good it feels. The mintiness inside me burns like crazy, but the bristles, now that’s something! I can’t feel every one of them like I could with my clit, the vagina isn’t sensitive in that way, but the cumulative effect of them all rubbing against my walls is magical.

And painful, as the toothpaste is scrubbed into the raw skin left after a few passes with the brush. She fucks me with it thorougly, making sure to clean me out well so I won’t be such a dirty slut. Well, at least not physically. It feels plenty dirty to be toyed with like this, downright humiliating really. And most pathetically at all, I’m not even allowed to cum!

My cunt, though, is ever optimistic. My clit is throbbing in a whole new way when she finishes coating my insides and turns her attention to target my G-spot. I moan deeply as she pushes the brush into it, using a circular motion to stimulate all the nerves there in all the right methods. It’s so intense that I can’t really describe it as painful or pleasurable, just electric and addictive.

I can’t tell up from down when I’m being overstimulated like this, good from bad, light from dark – my eyelids flutter helplessly as I struggle to just breathe and accept what’s happening to me. I’m on the verge of orgasm just from the internal stimulation, so painfully sweet, and if I was capable of cumming just from having my G-spot toyed with, now would be the time. Minutes pass by like hours, sweet and painful as she keeps going until I’m crying from the intensity, my fingers and toes writhing as I shake my head, as that’s basically all I can manage in this bondage.

Then I feel something against my clit. “Nnn-” I start to say, but I hold the word back.

“Good kitten,” Mistress says softly, proudly. Then she turns the electric toothbrush on.

The built-up orgasm overwhelms me almost immediately, but she takes the clit stimulation away as soon as she begins, ruining it. My vagina locks up tighter than a bank vault and something deep inside of me spasms, taking the toothbrush for a ride as my internal muscles quiver helplessly. My clit itself is pulsing and throbbing, desperate for stimulation but finding nothing. I can feel the orgasm from head to toe, from my wrinkled brow to my clenched toes, but there’s no satisfaction in it, just the trembling, aching need for what I’ve lost.

I collapse back against the table when it’s done, almost sobbing. Mistress carefully removes the brush from my pussy, before rushing to embrace me as I come down from those heights fast, crashing from the intensity of it.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” she soothes me, holding my face against her big, warm chest with one hand as she frees my arms with the other. “You’re alright, darling. You did great. It’s alright.” I hug her loosely, trembling.

“I know,” I finally answer. “I’m fine, I just – wow. That was… wow. I was trying so hard not to, so when I did I just… crashed afterwards.” It’s a weak explanation, but she understands me well by now and kisses my head patiently.

“You tried really hard, kitten. I can tell,” she reassures me.

“Does that mean I don’t owe you seven orgasms?” I ask hopefully.

I hear her chuckle deeply, hear it through her chest with my head pressed against her titties like this. “Not a chance,” she answers me cheerfully.

NSFW: yes

[ad_2]