Dommed Through Discord (BDSM, F/M, Humiliation, Degradation, Orgasm Control, Begging, Masturbation)

“Master,” I type carefully, still blinking sleep out of my eyes. I woke up only a few minutes ago and I still feel groggy. The blankets wrapped around me from how I turned and tossed in my sleep. Around me, my room is nice and warm. Familiar and safe and happy. My laptop is propped up on the other side of the bed, just close enough to see and use.

It’s probably a bad habit to go straight from sleep to staring at the screen. In fact, I know for sure it is. A few months ago, I’d probably have never imagined that I would be doing this.

Then again, a few months ago I hadn’t met him yet. A little shiver runs down my spine and I close my eyes. I can’t exactly remember the dreams I was having but I know they got me all hot and bothered. Waking up to a wet pussy isn’t something I used to do either, but I have gotten used to it in the last few weeks.

After all, I’m not allowed to touch myself without permission.

The thought brings blood rushing to my face. Even now, I can’t believe that I agreed to it. I’ve done a bunch of things in the last few weeks that I never thought I would. All for the sake of a man whose face I’ve never seen.

Even as I think that, I know I’m lying. It’s not just for his sake, but mine as well. I love this. I love what he has made me into. My body tingles every time I think of him, and the first thing I do every morning is check to see if he’s online.

We talk through Discord, emails, and sometimes Steam as well. It’s a long-distance relationship and our hours don’t always match but that only makes the time we do have together all the more precious.

I am still blinking sleep from my eyes. My long, dark hair is all in a mess. I toss and turn a lot in my sleep, and I know I am going to have an annoying time fixing it later.

But for now, that doesn’t matter. I stare at the screen, waiting for his reply eagerly. I can see that he’s online, but sometimes he likes to make me wait. A subtle reminder of the power difference between us. He’s in charge, the master, the owner. And I am the pet and the toy, the **** girl not even allowed to touch herself without permission.

God, I want to touch myself right now. My pussy is throbbing, lingering half memories of my dreams glitter in my mind like shards of silver. Slowly, one of my hands moves under the blanket, pressing against the outside of my panties. I take a deep breath, shuddering at the touch. Fuck!

I should stop. I know I’m not allowed. If master finds out, I’ll be punished again. But it’s hard, and gradually, the silence grows. I start to wonder if he’s not at his computer. But then why is his status set to green?

Then, suddenly, he replies.

“Hey, May.”

May. That’s my name. That’s why I introduced myself to him by the first time we met. But it’s not usually what he calls me. Is he teasing me? Playing with me? I don’t know and for a moment I’m thrown.

But only for a moment.

“Master,” I write back, typing eagerly. “How are you today? Did you sleep well?”

Stupid question, but I can’t think of anything else. My pussy is still throbbing and with **** effort, I draw my hand away from my wet panties. I’m wearing nothing else, the blankets wrapped around my pale skin. I am breathing a little bit faster, anticipation and eagerness twist within me.

“Well enough,” he replies. “Did you want anything in particular?”

He knows. He has to know. How could he not with a question like that? He always seems to know exactly when I am **** like this. I delay my response for a few seconds, feeling the blood rushing to my face. A few weeks ago, I’d not even need permission to do this. I’d have laughed at the very thought!

But now I am lying in bed, about to ask my boyfriend for permission to touch my own pussy. Like he owns me. Like I am just a toy to him.

But the thing is, that’s exactly how we both like it. The air catches in my lungs and I close my eyes, savouring the feeling of helplessness and submission before I start to type.

“Master, I’m horny.”

A few seconds pass and he doesn’t respond. My pulse races, and I can feel myself growing ever more ****. What is he going to say? Will he deny me? He has before. He loves to do it just to show me that he is in charge.

“My little slut,” the words come back. “We played the day before yesterday. Don’t tell me that you want to go again?”

I close my eyes again, loosing a soft moan. May is my name, but between the two of us, I’m his little slut. It’s demeaning and humiliating and I love it.

“Please sir,” I type back. “I’m so horny. I know we played recently, but I’m so wet right now.”

Silence follows again and I feel as if something important is hanging in the balance. My pussy throbs and the possibility of another day of slowly growing arousal fills me with dread. I wanna touch myself so much! It’s not fair that I have to ask permission!

But the fact that it’s not fair is why he has me do it. We both know that he’s in charge. That he is the master and I am the little slut who can’t keep her legs closed.

God, I love this man.

“Are you still in bed, May?”

He knows my schedule well. I nod even though he can’t see it and answer.

“Yes sir. I just woke up.”

“Wasted no time, did you?” I can almost hear his chuckle. Satisfied but not cruel. I was always into BDSM, into giving up control, but it was he who pushed me further and further. Who showed me just how much control I could really surrender.

“Please sir,” I try again, typing with one hand. My other brushes lightly against the material of my panties. The gentle touch makes me shiver.

“Why don’t you ask properly?” His reply comes back. Again, I can almost hear his teasing tone. He likes to tease, does my master. He likes to make me squirm and right now, I am squirming like hell. I know what he wants, and I know that I’ll do it. But I can feel my face heating up as I begin to type out the request in the approved manner.

“Please master, can your little pet slut spread her legs and play with her soaking pusy for you sir?”

My clit throbs as I type, a small moan plays through my throat. I feel hot, my skin tingling as I close my eyes. Fuck, how can he make me feel this way when we aren’t even in the same country?

But he does. He always has. Even if we’re not together, I can still feel his presence. I am still under his control. Still his little toy and every bit his little plaything and I love it.

“Kick off your blankets,” he writes back to me. “And wriggle out of your little panties. But don’t take them off totally. Leave them around your ankle like a slut.”

I do as I am told, my heart beating faster, the cold air pressed against my skin as I peel back the layers of my bedclothes. I make a soft sound, half yearning and half moan. Flushes of heat flash through me. One hand cups my left breast, teasing myself there. My thumb and forefinger gently work my nipple until it’s good and hard.

My back arches, my eyes close. God, it feels so good. My other hand moves to the waistband of my panties, gradually pulling them lower. The elastic clings to me a little as I draw them down my legs. My pussy is wet, and as my arm brushes against it, a little shudder runs through my whole body.

I leave my panties hanging around one ankle, my legs are spread, I’m lying on the bed totally exposed, my back propped up by a pillow just so. My pussy throbs with tightness, and my throat is dry.

“Are you lying in bed naked, my little slut?” My master writes again. “Are your legs open? Is your pussy begging for you to touch it? To stroke it?”

“Yes,” I write back. My heart thundering in my chest. “Oh god yes sir. Please master, please let me touch myself. Please let your little slut play with her pussy like a good toy.”

He takes longer to reply this time. I wonder if he is hard? I hope he is. I can imagine him stroking himself as he reads my words, realises how **** I am. It’s not the first time I’ve broken down and begged like this. Sometimes he gives me relief.

Sometimes he doesn’t.

I wonder what he will do this time.

“Play with your nipples for me, May.” he writes back after a few moments.

He knows that my nipples are sensitive. Pausing only to write a quick ‘’yes sir’’ I begin to rub and tease them. My long, slender fingers pick at my nipples, caressing them and stroking them and rubbing them. Before long, my body is responding. I am moaning slightly, and shivers of coiling anticipation run through my body. My pussy pulses, my deft strokes are erotic and tender. My eyes flutter, and the feelings rise through me.

I know I am getting wetter and wetter and I still haven’t closed my legs. I’m not allowed to when we play. That was one of the first rules. He told me that if I wanted to be his little slut then I would act like a little slut, and a slut should never close her legs when she’s performing for her master.

I moan, my voice ragged and ****. Aching need throbs through me. My pussy is hot and tight, tingles of desire and want sweep up my body. It wants to be touched, it wants to be stroked and teased and entered.

Fuck, I want to cum!

“Are you teasing your breasts, May?” master asks. “Have you touched your pussy? I hope not. You know I’ll have to punish you if you do.”

“No sir,” I manage to type with one hand. “But I want to! I want to so much! Please sir! Please, please, please!”

“I’ll think about it,” I can almost hear his chuckle again. Light, not cruel but firm.

“Good,” master says. “Now, I want you to imagine that I am there with you. That it’s me stroking your chest, teasing your nipples. Making you squirm and moan. Can you imagine that?”

“Yes,” I breathe, half gasping in ecstasy. I realise a moment later that he isn’t actually here, so I need to type it out.

“Yes sir, I can imagine it, sir.”

“I’d be so hard for you, my little slut,” he writes back. “Can you imagine it? Can you imagine what it would feel like if I tied your hands behind your back and fucked you then and there?”

I can imagine it all too well. My legs flex, anticipating what it would feel like to have him between them. His cock burying itself inside of me, thrusting and fucking me as my spine arches and my cries gradually turn into a chaotic sound of ecstasy.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” I moan. My nipples feel so good. So sensitive. Little darts of pleasure snap and worm their way down my spine. My mouth is dry, I can barely remember to keep looking at the screen.”

“Or maybe I’d put your collar on you,” Master writes. “Nice and tight just how you like it. Dress you in your black stockings and fuck you against the window. You’d love that wouldn’t you, May? You always love to put on a show, my little slut.”

My **** murmuring grows ever more ****. My pussy is throbbing for attention, a needy heat shooting through my body as I gasp and moan and wriggle on the bed like a mad thing. My nipples feel so good, but my pussy would feel better.

But I am not allowed to touch it yet. I’m a good ****. A good slut who does what she’s told. I’ve been naughty a few times and Master is inventive with his punishments.

“Or maybe we could get your little toy,” Master continues “The vibrator that you love so much. I can dial it up and down on my phone, keep you on edge all day. Just leave you on the bed for hours and hours and hours with your legs spread. Wouldn’t you love that?”

Yes! I want to scream, my body shuddering with heat and want. I love it! I want it all!

But right now, I just want to cum!

“Master,” I write desperately. “Please can I touch my pussy, sir?”

A pause.

“You didn’t ask permission properly, my little slut. I should punish you for that. But later. First, you can ask me properly.”

My hips are grinding back and forth now, my fingers work my breasts and nipples, I’m moaning and gasping openly like the slut that he taught me to be.

“Please sir,” I write. “Please can your slutty **** touch herself, master?”

“More humiliating.”

“Please! Please let me masturbate sir! I want to cum!”

“More humiliating.”

My face is burning, my chest is tight. I know he knows what he is doing to me. He’s loving it.

“Please master, can your slutty **** girlfriend fuck herself with her fingers while fantasising about what it will be like when you finally take her for yourself? Can she cum like a whore with her legs spread, moaning your name?”

My heart hammers. Humiliation washes through me but I adore it so. My pussy is pounding, it’s as if electricity is coursing through every cell in my body.

“You can touch yourself, May. But you’re not allowed to cum. Not yet.”

I don’t know what he’s planning but right now, I don’t need to. As soon as I have permission, one of my hands flies to my pussy. I bite my lower lip, my fingers working myself down there. Instantly, the pleasure intensifies, reaching a whole new level. I begin to squeak and moan. My lower lips are already soaked, tingles become waves of sparking pleasure as I twist back and forth in place.

“Oh fuck, master,” I write as soon as I am able. “Oh fuck, it feels so good sir. It feels so good.”

“Do not cum,” my master writes, and I realise with an odd feeling that he isn’t done with me yet. “May, you do not have permission to cum but nor are you allowed to stop. You can slow down, but you have to keep going.”

That’s unfair! I feel the realisation stabbing through me, even as my eager fingers begin to slow, it feels so good. Waves of heat and tightness throbbing through my pussy. How can I resist this?

“You’ll just have to have control, my pet.” My master seems like he read my mind. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard. By the way, while you’re doing that I want you to imagine what it would be like to be fucked by me. What it will be like.”

Oh fuck. How am I supposed to resist cumming while doing that? One hand is desperately kneading my chest, flicking and rubbing and stroking my nipple. My fingers probe and pinch, mixing pain with pleasure. The other is between my legs, my body rocking. Heat flushing through me. I am fucking myself with my fingers now, grinding against my hand. My clit burns and throbs, it feels so good.

I imagine his cock inside of me again. Thrusting, penetrating, filling me up. I begin to grind against the air, matching each of his imaginary thrusts. The air catches in my throat, heat builds between my legs. I am squealing now, static leaping between my nerves.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I shudder. “Master Ethan! M-master!”

He can’t hear me, but he seems to know what’s happening. I hope he knows how **** and wet I am. I imagine wrapping my arms around him as fucks me, as he makes me his now and forever.

I am so close! The tide of pleasure threatens to carry me away. I look desperately to the laptop.

“Master, I’m gonna cum!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“Absolutely not, my slut. I told you you weren’t allowed to cum.”

“Then can I stop?”

I imagine the little smile on his face.

“You can’t do that either.”

“Master!”

It’s only a single word, desperately typed, but I hope it can convey my desperation. My whole body feels tight, my muscles are stinging, I’m holding them so tensely. I know I am gonna cum if I keep going, I can feel the orgasm building and building and every part of me is screaming to surrender to it. To let it take me. But I fight it, holding myself back, resisting with everything.

But I am not allowed to stop playing with myself and gradually, my squirming becomes more and more frantic. My gasping breaths are quick and furious. How long has it been? I need to ask again!

“Master please!”

“May, are you disobeying me? You’re not allowed to cum. Now just think how long I could hold you like this, in that state. You’ve surrendered to me and given me everything. You got on your knees and promised to be my little slut, remember? Did you think that would be easy?”

“Please! Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!”

I’m reduced to just writing the word ‘’please’’ over and over as my body rocks. I don’t have enough energy to think of anything else to say.

“I suppose I could be convinced,” Master says. “But you have to offer me something. What do you have to trade, May?”

I shake my head. There are tears in my eyes. It feels so good, it’s taking all of my strength of will not to give in and cum. My body is shuddering, shivering and burning all at the same time. I gasp for air, trying to **** myself to think.

“I won’t wear underwear, sir!” I write. “I’ll go without it all day and wear a short skirt!”

I can already imagine the humiliation that will come from that. A whole day of knowing that I am only one wrong move away from exposing myself to strangers. I know I’ll be mortified later, but for now, I don’t care. I just wanna cum.

“Not enough.”

“Sir!”

“It’s a start, May, but I am going to need more. How much longer can you hold back again?”

Not much longer, I think. It feels so amazing. My whole body is lighting up. Twisting and gasping and moaning in bed, my legs are still spread, but my pussy is soaking, my fingers sliding in and out of myself more quickly now than ever. I’m so close, I’m so close!

“I’ll wear my vibrator too!” I write, grasping for the first thing I can think of. “I’ll keep it in all day! The one that you can control! You can **** me with it all day! Just let me cum now!”

A shiver snaps through my body, I give a long moan. Feeling as if I am about to break down, but I manage to wrestle myself back. Just about. I know I won’t make it much longer.

My master still hasn’t replied. Is he holding back? Does he want more? What else can I even offer him?

“I’ll make you a video, sir!” I gasp. “When I get home from work, I’ll make a video of me undressing and you can see the kind of soaking mess I’ve become after so many hours with the vibe! And I’ll play with myself! Do whatever you want! Just….just please let me cum now!”

I am spiking, the climax rising. My moment approaching, my fists curl, and I know I am about to cum whether I want to or not.

“All right then, May,” my master writes. “Cum for me you little slut.”

I do, I cum like I never have before. My nerves scream, the world seems to fade and all I am left with is an ocean of pleasure that fills every inch of me. I am moaning his name, my master’s name, like it’s some magical incantation. My body is wracked with convulsions, the strength of my orgasm streams my breath away. I cum with my legs spread like I should, gasping his name until the end.

And then it’s over and I am lying in my bed. The laptop open in front of me, and my master’s latest message.

“Enjoy yourself, did you?”

“Yes sir,” I type shakily. “It was amazing. Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. I love you.”

“I love you too, May,” he writes back. “You little humiliation-loving slut.”