“Go jerk off.”
His hand stopped, a french fry halfway to his mouth. “Huh?”
“Go jerk off. Stop eating, go jerk off, have an orgasm, and then come back.”
He looked at her face carefully, searching for a tell-tale upturned corner of her mouth that would tell him she wasn’t serious. “I thought we were doing the thing?” He rubbed his hands on the legs of his pants and licked his lips.
She took a drink and nodded, then put one finger on the straw and pushed down slightly. It bent a little, ice cubes moving around it. “We are. Go jerk off, and we’ll talk about it.”
“In the restroom?”
She shrugged. “Unless you want to spend the night in jail, I’d recommend the restroom, yes.”
His eyes stayed on her as he stood up and shuffled towards the restroom, waiting for her to laugh and call him back. She was stealing one of his french fries when he turned the corner and she disappeared from view.
He walked down the length of the bathroom, choosing the last stall that wasn’t handicapped. The door swung shut behind him, and he jiggled the flimsy chrome lock until it slid into the frame. His hands were sweating as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. He started slowly jerking himself off, thinking about that morning.
“How would you feel about doing orgasm control again?” He tried to sound casual while he spun the garbage around and cinched a twist-tie down around the top.
“Hm, might be fun.” She flipped the new bag up and down until it billowed open, then stuffed it into the can and set the lid down. “Buy me dinner tonight and it’s a deal.”
A quick hug and a kiss and they left the house, the bass from her car thumping as he dropped the garbage in the dumpster and walked to his own car.
Thoughts flickered through his head the rest of the day. Of not being allowed to orgasm, of fucking her until he couldn’t stand it then begging to eat her cunt instead, of her writhing and shouting mixing with his moans of frustration. Of the firm pressure of a cage around his cock as it tried to get hard.
The back of his legs tightened and he felt his back begin to arch. He pulled a handful of toilet paper off the roll as his cock started to jerk, and held it in front of him as semen spilled out. He waited until he was done, then dropped it in the toilet and waved his hand in front of the sensor. The toilet flushed with an anemic roar, and he zipped his pants up. He paused at the door, turned back, washed his hands, and dried them on his pants as he walked back to the table.
The black vinyl folder with the check was waiting on the table, and she was standing by the exit, flicking a finger across her phone. He opened the check, figured out the tip, and dug through his pockets. A few bills and he dropped the folder back on the table, sighing at the spot where his plate had been. He walked over to the door and leaned against the wall next to her. “Ready Freddy?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yep, let’s go.”
They pulled out into traffic, and she hummed along to the music as he looked from her, to the traffic, and back. She was going to force him to bring it up, and he knew that after the first few minutes. He would open his mouth, then close it, until finally they hit a long stop light on red. “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”
She rolled her shoulders to the music and mimicked his slow, careful words. “Well, I am the M. Night Shyamalan of kink.”
“I just thought we were doing orgasm control?” It was only half a question.
She grinned at him and nodded. “We are, but control isn’t denial. You’re going to come when I say, and how I say. What you do on your time is your business, but you better come when I tell you to.” She leaned over and punched his upper leg, hard. “And if you can’t, because you’ve been jerking off, things will be very unpleasant until you do have an orgasm.” She raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge her.
He nodded and frowned, looking for traps and loopholes. “May I please wear the chastity cage to help me keep from jerking off ma’am?”
Traffic crossed in front of them and she looked up at the clouds through the windshield. “Hmmmm…” The song ended and another began. “No, then I’d have to unlock you or find a key when I wanted you to have an orgasm, and that would inconvenience me. I prefer to just be able to tell you.” She looked back at him, poker faced. “Is that all right?”
She moved her hand towards the console to skip the song and he flinched. She laughed and pushed next, then put her hand back on the wheel.
“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.”
“Oh…” She melted a little, and reached over to pat his cheek.
“Maybe after you’ve proved you can control yourself for awhile, I’ll lock your cock up. But only very good boys get that privilege. So if you’re very good, and come when I say promptly and without complaint, maybe I’ll reward with you a nice cage. Does that sound fair?”
“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.” The words were the same, but they could both feel the change in tone, the barter of dominance and submission working.
Someone behind them honked. The light had finally turned green and she slowly pulled back into traffic, keeping him in her peripheral vision. “Poor boy, he’s going to have to learn self-control. How many times can you come before your dick can’t get hard anymore?”
He shuddered and thought carefully. “Four or five times, depending ma’am.”
“Good. And you’ve had one today. So when we get home you’re going to jerk off, hm, I’m feeling generous, three times, and then you’re going to come fuck me. Understood?”
He nodded groggily, and spoke a few seconds later. “Yes ma’am.”
She punched his leg again, and her voice flattened out. “Do you? I want your cock to be sore and tired when you fuck me, I want you to have to make sure fucking me is the only thing on your mind to keep it hard, and when you come, I want to know it’s the last possible orgasms you could have. I want to feel like your life is falling out of your cock into my cunt. Do. You. Understand?”
He rubbed his palms on the legs of his pants and nodded again. “Yes ma’am, I understand.”
She reached over and jerked on his hair. “Good. I think I’m going to like controlling your orgasms.”
“Me too ma’am.”
He grinned at her, and she grinned back, then sped up to make it through a light on the yellow. They couldn’t wait to get home.
Preview: “You’re not very bright, but my oh my you are pretty.”
Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.
Want to support the author (who is me)? Buy a compilation of some of my favorite stories on this blog for your e-reader at Smashwords or Amazon.
Little Submissions 