The Rest of the Night

For the rest of the night, Clara spent in what felt like hell. She had had many fantasies, she had known many possibilities that had made her pussy ache, made her chest throb with desire. But this? This was alien to her. She'd never considered it. It made her squirm, and made her feet and legs feel numb when she let it, it made her tremble when her resolve was low, and made her moan if she focused on it for too long. It made her toes curl, it made her fingers flex, it made desire pump through her accompanied by aching helplessness, and an arousal so strong that she had never felt it before.

All because of that vibrator she felt resting gently within her sex. At first it was hard to move with it, she had to focus, to keep it inside of her. She had to move carefully, which was made much harder by the fact that it constantly buzzed away. By the time the first hour was over, she was soaking wet down there again, and the worst part of it was that since she was not allowed to wear any clothes, Alex could see it easily. She felt strangely humiliated when her boyfriend turned to watch her, as if this was somehow something different and new. Maybe it was because of the context of the situation, wherein it was because she had lost to him and been forced into it, or maybe it was because it was a constant, wearing away at her reserves, but every time his gaze turned back to her, she did her best not to hide away. She fought the urge to shield herself.

It felt constant, grating and real. None of her fantasies had ever prepared her for this. The vibrator ran, switching between different cycles of speed, just so make sure she didn’t get used to any one in particular, pushing her limits with every moment. She gasped softly, the agonizingly erotic sensation of the machine between her lower lips carefully set so as to give her no release. She felt more enslaved then than she had at any point prior, with even her own body beyond her control. Clara felt her arousal rising and rising, until she wanted nothing more than to touch and stroke and fondle herself, to drive herself into the orgasm that her body was promising. But Alex was always there, watching her, making sure she didn’t do just that. She wanted to slink off into the darkness and masturbate like she never had before, but his keen eyes followed her, as though he could sense her thoughts.

It felt humiliating and degrading. The fact that she was naked and he was not; the constant feel of the toy inside of her, the feel of the band of cloth around her inner thigh, she felt like she had been put on display, like a piece of meat. Like an animal being led around and shown off to others. She felt she was being teased and tormented, punished for her inability to win the game that they had set up before.

It drove her mad, and yet, she also loved it. She had to admit, this was different from her fantasies, but it felt so much more real. The feel of the plastic nestling between her lower lips, the wet dripping of her lower self, the dizzying heat that burned in her clit, the desire to cum and climax growing with every minute only to be denied again and again?

She was experiencing an aspect of her fetish she had never even thought of before. The helplessness and the humiliation, the degradation, all the darker aspects of it, they all came to the fore now. She enjoyed them. She enjoyed them so much that she actually was a little scared. Never before had they factored so heavily into her thoughts, but she realised she was really enjoying it even as the torment went on.

Why was it so? She felt helpless, she felt like she was being treated as an object, with no choice and no freedom at all. She was like a piece of meat, to be viewed and anticipated. She knew she shouldn’t enjoy this, and she felt guilty that she did. Clara had never been overly political, coming from a small town didn’t tend to lead to very active ideas like that. But she had always been a supporter of feminism because she was, herself, a woman and it was therefore a matter of practical self interest. Not to mention that she believed everyone had a right to do and be what they wanted. She believed that people shouldn’t be held back by their gender, and shouldn't be treated differently because of it.

That might this so strange to her. All of her life, she had believed that women were equal to men, and that equal rights were extremely important. Because, well, they were. Both were correct. So why did she believe that, and yet at the same time get off on being so powerless? Surely this was wrong? This wasn’t suppose to be how it went.

She felt lost and confused, and yet at the same time so exhilarated. She felt powerless and yet empowered. This whole thing had been her idea, she had been the one to plan it, to set it in motion. So was she really powerless? And even then, the one who owned her was Alex…

She felt her heart skip a beat at that, warmth filling her that wasn’t quite to do with an impending orgasm. Alex. She trusted him, she cared for him, she knew he cared for her as well. The sense of safety this created was what allowed her to do this. Control was important, surrendering it was hard. But did that make it wrong? She didn’t think so. After all, Clara reasoned, if women were able to do anything they wanted, if she wanted to be a slave then surely she was free to do that as well? It wasn’t like she had no rights after all. The whole thing was just a game… Alex would back down any time she really asked, and she knew it.

She just hadn’t asked.

She just didn’t want to ask.

She bit her lip, feeling her arousal spike, the vibrator kicking into a faster pace. Her legs trembled, and she caught the edge of the table, holding it for a moment as she found her balance.

“You okay there, Clara?” Alex asked, over the sound of running water. He was washing the dishes left over after dinner. Clara forced herself to swallow, moistening her throat.

“Y-yeah.” She said slowly. “I’m fine, Alex.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Horny as fuck, no thanks to you.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “This damn thing won’t stop...”

“That’s the idea.” He pointed out. “On both accounts. You lost the game, after all. Are you sure you don’t want to climax? As I said, I can let you do it if you want, so long as you’re willing to pay a price.”

She glared at him.

“Not a chance!” She snarled. He smirked, but nodded, and returned to his task.

Somehow, it had become another game to them. Though, Clara’s body burned with desire, and though she wanted to cum more than anything else, she remained defiant. Maybe it was pride, or simply because she was enjoying this more than she would admit to even herself. But she found a certain perverse joy in enduring it rather than letting Alex have his way. He could order it if he wanted it so much!

And so the game played on. The night ticked on, and Clara continued to endure the remorseless torment of the vibrator pressed against her sex. Its juddering motions teased her, and kept her on edge. Made her feel like her legs were made of jelly, made her imagines he was standing on the very edge of a great fall, and yet she could not take the final step. It was the most embarrassing day of her life, spending the whole time naked, being pleasured in front of the boy she had had a crush on for most of her childhood. Not allowed to leave the room, not allowed to do anything more than sit and endure it. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Again and again, she caught herself, her hands curling slowly towards her mound, or fingers idly stoking her breasts, her desire moving her body before her brain could even catch up. Her skin felt hyper sensitive, so that even the cold air was a torment to it. She felt the fabric of the chair against herself acutely when she sat down. Her breath caught in her lungs as the intoxicating sense of potential pleasure continued to build between her thighs.

Several more times, Alex checked to see if she had cracked. If she would pay his price for release. Each time, refusing was harder than the last. Each time, she could see the desire in his face, matching the lust soaring in her breast. She wanted him; she wanted to feel him against her, god, she wanted to feel him inside of her! The thought made her mouth dry, and yet also elicited a chuckle, imagining what her friends would say if they knew that sweet, innocent Clara was so desperate, so needy for something so base. She wanted him, and she knew that he wanted her.

Yet, she did not relent. Maybe it was pride or stubbornness, maybe it was simple stupidity. Whatever the case, Clara had never been good at accepting defeat. So she struggled on.

When it finally came time for them to go to bed, Clara was utterly exhausted from fighting her own body. Alex allowed her to turn off the vibrator as she slipped into a deep sleep, but promised that there would be more punishment to come tomorrow.

She let the darkness take her, part of her anticipating just what he had in store.