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Tease and Denial at 36 Days
Tease and Denial at 36 Days
by Jota Milagros
Published by milagros317
Default Tease and Denial at 36 Days

Tease and Denial

This is the true story of a 75-minute intense tease & denial segment of a session that I had with my Mistress and Owner, Goddess Shelly. Both of the characters in this story are over 21 years old. The session took place on May 26, 2013.

“On your knees by the corner of the bed,” says Goddess Shelly to me.

I kneel down by the lower left corner of my bed, putting my hands around the bed post. She comes up behind me and puts the leather hood over my head. It has eye holes and a hole for my mouth. There are separate pieces, a blindfold and a gag, that can be attached with Velcro tabs, to cover the holes when she wishes. She carefully laces the hood up the back, securing it well. A wonderful feature of his hood is that it has a D-ring set in it at the top of my head.

“Now get on the bed. Lie down carefully,” says Goddess Shelly to me.

I walk over to my four-poster bed and lay down on it. I am wearing shorts and a t-shirt, as well as a leather collar, padded leather wrist cuffs, and padded leather ankle cuffs. The collar and all four cuffs are locked on with small padlocks.

Goddess Shelly spends the next twenty minutes tying me securely to the bed. There is an under-the-mattress restraint system, with four Velcro cuffs, already in place under the bed. She both fastens the Velcro cuffs on my arms, below the padded leather cuffs. She also uses the D-rings in the leather cuffs to tie my arms to the upper bedposts.

She puts the Velcro cuffs around my ankles, above the padded leather cuffs. She also uses the D-rings on the leather cuffs to tie my ankles to the lower bedposts. Finally, she ties the D-ring in the top of my hood very tightly to the grillwork in the headboard of my bed.

She tickles my ribs briefly to test the bondage. I laugh and squirm, but I can’t move very far. She smiles at me and says, “Very good. You’re not going anywhere for quite a while.”

She gets the blindfold and puts it on my hood. “Can you see?” she asks me.

“No, I can only see the black leather inside of the hood by the light coming through the mouth hole,” I answer.

“Good,” she says. “Do you know what I’m going to do next?”

“I could guess, but you’ll do whatever you want to do,” I answer.

“Good answer,” she says. “You’re getting better at not presuming what I’ll do.”

I hear the sound of Goddess Shelly ripping tape and I realize that she is going to do what I fear most.

“Remind me,” she says, “how many days have you been in chastity?”

“Today is my 36th day in chastity,” I reply.

“That’s a record for you, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Yes, it certainly is,” I reply, “and I’m desperate.”

She laughs and I feel her placing an electric toothbrush on my right thigh. She tapes it in place with medical tape, designed to stick to skin but not to hair. I have a lot of body hair, so it was very kind of her to have me buy such tape, given that she likes to use it on me. She has also had me buy and install new batteries for the electric toothbrushes. The toothbrushes' base is taped securely to the middle of my thigh and its head rests, now motionless, on the upper part of my inner thigh.

Yes, that is plural, ‘toothbrushes’. She tapes the second toothbrush to my left inner thigh, higher up than the first one, so that its head is just touching the bottom of my scrotum. It is not clear to me if she realizes she has done so because she is working blind, shoving the toothbrushes under my short pants and under my boxer shorts.

She now turns on both toothbrushes and I moan in pleasure.

“Let’s see if you can keep it together,” she says. “If you don’t, then your next time in chastity will be twice as long, 72 days.”

She has never used that phrase before so I want to be sure what it means.

“By ‘keep it together’ do you mean refrain from having an involuntary orgasm?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers firmly.

“In that case, I hope that I can keep it together,” I say.

Goddess Shelly laughs and picks up a blunt wooden stick. While both electric toothbrushes continue to whirl and stimulate my thighs, she pokes the stick up my short pants and under my boxer shorts, tickling my thighs with it. She varies the location, keeping me from getting used to it.

This is maddening. I have a large, firm erection and my position, tied spread-eagled on my back, makes it impossible to get any friction on it.

Goddess Shelly notices that my toes are clenching and admonishes me.

“Keep your feet still! I know that is your way of coping and I won’t have it. Keep your feet perfectly still or I will tape them and tie them so you can’t move them.”

I obey her with difficulty. It is a real struggle to keep my feet still with the triple stimulation of my thighs going on.

I wonder how much time has passed but I know better than to ask. The tickle-torture portion of ours sessions usually lasts 75 minutes, and it’s clear that my Mistress and Owner has decided that today it will be mostly, if not entirely, tease and denial. She does finally stop tickling me with the blunt stick, but it is because she has decided to move the toothbrushes. That will be bad for me; I was getting used to their whirling in exactly the same spots, and she has realized this. She rips off the tape on each brush in turn, moves it an inch or two, and re-tapes them. The stimulation in new areas makes me groan, and Goddess Shelly laughs at my agony.

“45 minutes left,” she gloats, meaning that only 30 minutes have passed. “And I can extend it beyond that if I wish.”

“Of course you can,” I say, “because you are my Owner and I am your toy, to play with as you see fit.”

She has, on occasion, extended ordinary tickle torture beyond the 75 minutes, but this is much more intense, this teasing and denial with me being so long in chastity.

I can hear Goddess Shelly getting on the bed with me. I’m very glad that she has not resumed tickling my thighs again; the toothbrushes are bad enough. She removes my blindfold and sticks her very lovely bare sole right in front of my eyes.

“You can see it but you can’t touch it,” she says. She knows very well that I worship her feet, especially her sacred bare soles, and that my greatest joy in life comes when she allows me to lick them. She wriggles and flexes her toes and her sole ripples before my adoring eyes. My erection grows to its maximum size.

Goddess Shelly now withdraws her foot and puts the blindfold back on me.

“Now you’re even denied the sight of my sole. Keep the image in your mind, though, concentrate on remembering it.”

I can think of nothing else, in fact, but her sacred, beautiful, soft soles, one of which was just in my face. I grip the horizontal iron bar of the headboard.

“No!” says Goddess Shelly. “Take your hands away from that bar!”

I comply with her order.

“That’s another way of coping,” she says. “Keep you hands still and your feet still. You are not allowed to cope with the teasing that way.”

As if to provide a different way for me to cope, she digs her fingers into my rib cage, one hand on each side, tickling me vigorously. I laugh hard, and then even harder as she moves her wriggling fingers up into both of my armpits, which are my most ticklish spot of all. She tickles my armpits for quite a while.

“Did that distract from the teasing?” she asks after she stops tickling my upper body.

“Yes, it did,” I admit, “and I thank you for it.”

Goddess Shelly snorts, picks up an artist’s paintbrush, and proceeds to go back to tickling me under my boxer shorts. Since she can’t see where the end of the brush is, she may not realize that she is tickling the shaft of my penis now. I gasp and moan.

“20 minutes left,” she says, and continues to tickle me with the little paint brush, which is now stroking my scrotum.

At this point I can feel myself beginning to lose control and I wonder if I will be able to keep it together.

But I am in luck, because Goddess Shelly has withdrawn the brush and is once more sitting on the bed with me. Instead of tickling me again, she pulls up my t-shirt and begins to slap my belly with both palms, alternately, with moderate force.

“Remind me of the levels of pink belly that I give you,” she says.

“Pink,” I answer, “raspberry, red, supreme red, purple, and black.”

“What about fuchsia?” she asks. “Isn’t fuchsia in there?”

“No, we’ve never used fuchsia as a degree of pink belly.”

“Well put it in,” she says, still pounding on my belly. “Because that’s the color it was, fuchsia, when I asked. Now it’s raspberry.”

“Okay,” I say, in agony as she pounds and pounds on my belly. “Pink, fuchsia, raspberry, red, supreme red, purple, black.”

“Five minutes left,” she says, tucking my t-shirt back into my short pants. She goes back to the foot of the bed and resumes tickling my thighs with the little paintbrush.

The lessening ache in my belly continues to distract me as the final five minutes of teasing go by. I have no trouble keeping it together after all.

As Goddess Shelly begins to untie me, she says something that chills me, given that we are having another session tomorrow, which will be my 37th day in chastity.

“Tomorrow,” she says, “if I want to, I can spend the whole 75 minutes just teasing you.”

The End
PS: As I post this, it is my 41st day in chastity.
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