Continue breakfast and try to talk more to Steve.

"You have a Happy Maid?", you ask Steve, as he slowly slurps his coffee.

"Yes, a lovely thing", he answers. "Such a relief in the household. She's really great with everything, Phuong, she really is. Cooking, cleaning, shopping for groceries... gives you so much more free time. Actually, not that I think of it... since I do have more time..." He stops, chews on something and swallows. "... that's exactly when the sessions became... more..."

Steve's eyes suddenly seem to loose focus and taking on a slight dazed look.

You frown, looking at him questioningly, and drinking a few sips of coffee.

"Steve?", you say.

He looks at you. Frowns. And suddenly his eyes become stern and hard.

"Didn't I tell you to call me 'Master', stupid ****?", he asks, in a cool voice.

You gasp, almost spilling your coffee. "No, ... no, you didn't. You explicitely said..."

"SHUT UP, ****!", Steve booms.

He snaps his fingers, pointing to the floor. "On your knees, cunt! On your knees!"

The words somehow seem to strike a cord deep inside you body. The overwhelming feeling of submission and lust is creeping back into you, as the taste of coffee still lingers on your tongue. How could you have been so bold to sit and talk to your Master like a normal person? No... no... wait, he told you to act normally. He was normal. He was different. You are sure he was. You are sure he...

Steve's fingers are making that snapping sound again, and you find yourself kneeling in front of him quicker than you thought yourself capable. He looks at you, still displeased and angry. "You will finger yourself, ****, while I finish my breakfast. You will finger yourself, but you will not cum. Clear?"

"Yes, Master", you reply meekly, and your hands start to work on your clit immediatly, while Steve just grunts and continues to eat and drink. As your fingers work on your crotch, you feel the kindled flame of desire quickly reaching the heights of yesterday again, and you are soon moaning and trembling, and staring at Steve, begging for his permission to grant yourself much needed release.

"Don't you dare to cum, horny bitch", hisses Steve, and gulps down a few more bites. You can see his erection rising under his bathrobe, building a tent and you moan at that sight. Your fingers slowly stopping in their tracks. "Go on!", orders Steve, roughly: "Go on - fuck yourself, ****!"

You look at him, pleading. "I can't, Master! If i continue, I will... it's too much!"

"You can, and you will learn, ****", he replies. "You will learn to edge yourself like the proper fucking bitch you are! Now GO ON! And let me see those tits of yours! Put on a real show for me!"

You whimper in frustration and unsatisfied neediness, but you comply. And you manage, to your own surprise, to keep that climax in check, although it takes all your concentration and all your strength. Soon, nothing exists anymore than you burning pussy, your fingers, and your own willpower. There was something that you wanted to think about, earlier. But you can't recall. Something that seemed off. But it's not important. All that matters is your urge to cum, and your Master's word. But that word, that permission, does not come.

Steve finally allows you to stop fingering yourself, but orders you to suck him off instead. You spend the next hour with your head between his legs, sucking him off twice, swallowing his first load completely, and letting him give you a facial after the second round. Your Master then leads you back into the living room, where he puts a collar around your neck and chains you to the sofa while he gets showered and dressed, leaving you steaming in your own desire, whimpering in frustration. The rest of the morning and noon passes quickly with the repeating torment of having to edge yourself and sucking your Master's cock, who seems to boast an incredible amount of stamina and is always back to his rock hard status a few minutes after jizzing off.

In the afternoon, Master grants you the wish of getting fucked, but as he assfucks you on the sofa, he still denies you the permission to cum. You are, at this point, not sure that you are completely sane anymore. Everything floats and turns and seems upside down, and there is only one thing that stays anchored in your brain: Your hot and wet pussy, spasming and crying for relief.

You spend the night in a cage in the bedroom of your Master, chained and harnessed, different loads of dried cum still on your face, and with the embarrassing feeling of a chastity belt wrapped around your hips, putting your clit completely out of reach. You have never felt so horny in your life. You have never thought something like this even remotely possible. While you listen to his snoring, you try to remember how it all went wrong in the morning. The morning had started different, no? You did not sleep in this cage last night. But there's a purple haze of desire and arousal that has wrapped itself around your brain and your memory into a fluffy cloud which you can't penetrate with your thoughts. Slowly, you fade into a restless sleep.

You only remember one thing: You have to please Master with everything in your power the next day. He's the only one who can finally grant you that orgasm you so desperately crave for.