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“One hour.”

He talks her through the game as he sets it up. “One hour with the vibrator,” he tells her. The familiarity over time together has done nothing to dull the excitement; it merely leaves her tingling with anticipation, knowing what’s about to come next, as he first ties her wrists and then her ankles in place, leaving her spread and strapped in place against the mattress. “But without orgasm. If you want to cum… for that, you’ll need to ask permission. Politely, of course,” he adds, with a musing smile.

A final strap comes on around her midriff. She tests the bindings cautiously; the leather cuffs are soft enough to not dig into her skin, but she’s barely been left any slack. Just enough to squirm. “And if I cum without permission?” she asks, with a brattish smile of her own.

They distribute a warm, lingering look as his eyes rake up her body to meet hers, and his hand just grazes her bare thigh softly, a reminder of who they really are to one another. Then the persona is back, and he gives just the tiniest shake of his head. “Oh, you won’t,” he assures her.

And with that, he turns the clock on the nightstand to be within her eye-line, and picks up the wand that until now has lain, a delicious reminder of what is to come, on the bed between her feet. “One hour of teasing,” he reminds her. “Unless you’re in the mood to beg.”

The wand comes on with a whir. Goosebumps are rising predictably on her arms as he guides it slowly up the inside of her leg. She takes a moment to steel herself. Nothing gives her quite so much satisfaction as doing the opposite of what she’s told. Which is just what makes this challenge so deliciously well chosen. She won’t beg. She won’t lose the battle of wills. She won’t give in.

But God, him trying to make her will be so much fun.

The first few minutes pass like that, with him ghosting the massager over her body, teasing up one thigh and down the other, grazing over her stomach, circling there as her muscles tense in anticipation. Letting the need for release create first in her mind, before slowly – so slowly – inching down to realize it between her legs. Her determination not to crack isn’t enough to stop her hips from thrusting instinctively in the direction of the vibrations, as the wand’s head skims over her mons pubis before retreating, *just* faintly touching her outer labia as he guides it downwards, so frustratingly close yet so inadequately far from where she wants it.

But she won’t say it. No, she’s not losing the game. One hour? She can handle it. After all, it’s already been… she turns her head to see the clock.

Ten minutes. Oh, God.

The wand’s head teases upwards again. For a while, he seems content to experiment seeing just how lightly he can touch her, the smallest surface area that he can pass over her with each movement, but soon he moves more directly, and it’s impossible to suppress the little whimper that escapes her lips as he presses the massager in against her. Even on this low setting through her folds, the intensity is palpable, and again, her body can’t help but twitch, automatically craving more. But no more is given.
Fifteen minutes.

The next time her hips threaten to rise up off the bed his free hand comes down to rest against her belly, gently pressing her back down. She knows he can feel the tension there. The little wiggle room she possessed within the restraints for the moment is gone, and she can do nothing to withstand the buzzing between her thighs; a quiver runs through her body, as she feels the massager acute against her clitoris. Her body is catching up with her mind. She’s starting to feel close, and the edge rushes towards her, as she tugs instinctively at the restraints and knows she’s helpless to stop it-

And then he releases her, straightening up and drawing the vibrator away from her. “You didn’t think you were actually going to cum, did you?”

She’s panting softly, jittering with unfulfilled need. The orgasm that was beckoning to her slowly dissipates, the stimulation gone. “Not until you ask,” he reminds her. She looks at the clock again. Twenty minutes gone. This is gonna be a long hour.

He gives her ample time to recover before starting again. Same pattern, same coy approach. This time she actively tries to keep her body away from the vibrations, but it’s a hopeless endeavour; he has her where she wants her, and soon she’s straining again under the wand’s sinfully sweet touch, at visceral feelings that no amount of rationality can downplay; she wants more, needs more, and her hips are thrusting urgently again before he pulls back again, snatching the promise of more pleasure away from her. She breathes deeply. She can handle this. She’s gonna win their game. She’s sure as hell not gonna beg.

Cooldown over. Vibrator back on. And on. And… gone again! She’d barely even started to get excited that time. Her arms tug at their bonds, but she’s as helpless to escape her ties as to ignore her desires. He watches her with a smile. “I think we’re ready to move up a setting…” he murmurs.

He slides the dial upwards on the wand’s handle, and she can’t help the skip in her chest as she hears its gentle hum swell to a drone. No, she can help it. She’s not giving in. She’s-

Fuck!

Her whole body jolts from the intensity of the first renewed touch. Whirring, pulsing against her clit, a tremulous, infinite wave of stimulation. This time it takes seconds, mere moments before she’s on the edge again, but as if reading her mind he’s drawing back just in time, leaving her teetering on the precipice once more. “No!” She can’t help the exclamation – she’d been so close, had felt it, and her body jolts again in frustration…

It feels as though she’s barely had a chance to catch her breath, though, before it’s back on, and she’s back to trembling from acute stimulation rather than need. Before it was teasing; now, it’s incessant, the massager sending her hurtling towards the edge before wrenching her back each time, sometimes multiple times in a single minute as the breaks he affords her grow shorter and shorter, giving her no time to recover. How many times has it been now? How many climaxes has she been cheated from? Before, she could think; now, she only feels it, feels the need, the constant, growing, aching need-

“I need to cum,” she says.

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Come again?”

“I –” She bites back a waspish retort. “Please,” she says, doing her best to keep her voice from quivering. “I need to cum.”

He shrugs, with the shoulder that isn’t locked as he holds the wand against her. “I’m sorry, I can’t quite hear you over the vibrator…”

Which he runs yet more wickedly over her clit before drawing it away, again, and it takes some self-control for her to get the words out, but not as much as it’s taking to withstand the ache between her legs for one single second longer. “*Please, just let me fucking cum!*”

A moment passes, and she almost wonders in a slight panic if she’s missed something, some niche desire that she first has to fulfil before he’ll acquiesce, but then a grin spreads across his face, and suddenly the vibrator is back, as is his hand on her belly, and this time there is no break, no subtle change in pace, just constant, incessant pressure exactly where she wants it-

“Fuck!” She doesn’t have even a moment to prepare before it hits her, the orgasm that’s been building, swelling inside her for so long and finally breaking over, and her back arches as she grinds wildly into the device now clamped as firmly between her thighs as her bonds will allow, losing any last faint vestige of control she might still have possessed. She climaxes, long and hard and frantic, and her whole body is still twitching from the final few shockwaves as she collapses back against the mattress, spent.

“Oh- okay.” She’s starting to ache with sensitivity, and can’t move away from the wand still pressed against her now-oversensitive clit. “I finished. I’m finished.”

“I know.” There’s something else now about the way he’s smiling at her, as if at some private joke. “But I’m not.”

“I-” She looks back at him dazedly. “What?”

“I told you I would use the vibrator on you for an hour.” He’s holding the wand thoughtfully in his grasp. “I said I would let you cum before then if you asked, but I never said that meant we would be stopping. And I only see forty-five minutes there on the clock.”

“You…” She looks from the still-ticking timer, to him, to the vibrator in his hand, and her heart skips a beat as she realises what has been the plan from the begin.

“Now…” He turns it over, presenting the dial to her again. “I don’t think we’ve ever used the third setting on this, have we?”

He uses it now, and her only answer is a moan that’s almost a scream. A long hour indeed.

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