P- please touch me ...

You have to think long and hard about her "offer" ... or rather, FAST and hard, before Cassie decides to withdraw the offer entirely. After your shameful display of begging (your face reddens at the memory), it's now obvious who's holding the reins in this relationship, and she's starting to tap her toes impatiently.

You asked for this, after all, and she's right; this is what you wanted: to give her control of your sex, to let her decide when you could orgasm. And it was YOU who was talking about weeks-long or even permanent chastity. Even through the haze of your lust, you're ashamed of your performance. Twelve days?! Twelve days is nothing.

No, you're going to have to prove ... to Cassie AND yourself ... that you're better, stronger than either your lust or your ... recent outburst.

Just telling Cassie you'll stay in chastity won't do. You're pretty sure you know what she means to do, freeing your cock but not letting you cum, and you're going to let her. You have to. Both of you need to know you can.

"Please ... take it off me, Cassie, and ... and p-please touch me ... I'll be good."

Cassie arches one eyebrow at you, giving you what you call her "Mister Spock look." She reaches out to help you to your feet, but when she speaks to you her tone is cold and hard. "Whenever you ask me for a sexual FAVOR, you will refer to yourself as the slut you are ... if you want any chance of having that favor granted."

Something makes you avert your gaze. "Sorry. Please ... touch ... this slut. He ... won't cum without permission."

When Cassie lifts your chin, she's smiling again. "Good boy," she says, leaning forward to kiss you, briefly nibbling at your bottom lip. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Now, strip out of those jeans and panties. I want to spend the whole evening edging you."

You're not sure what to think of Cassie calling your boxer-briefs "panties," but you barely think about it in your rush to disrobe ... and get her hands on your unit. You know you have something to prove, but that doesn't change your eagerness to replace your plastic prison with warm, human contact. You quickly kick off your sneakers, yank off your socks, and strip your jeans and underwear down simultaneously before kicking them away.

Cassie takes hold of your cage, leaning in to kiss you again, and then tugs gently on it, leading you towards the bedroom.

Once there, she turns and pulls your tee from your torso, running her palms from your butt cheeks and up and down your back in the process, pressing her breasts and belly against you all the while, practically forcing your cock to try to burst out of its cage again.

She steps back and pulls the key from between her breasts, letting it lie between them again, but outside her shirt. "Lie down on the middle of the bed, on your back," she orders.

You practically leap onto the bed and then flip onto your back while Cassie bends over to rummage through the bottom drawer on her side of your shared bureau. When she sees you watching, she smiles and starts shifting her weight from one foot to the other, causing her ass cheeks to flex under her leggings, the tease.

She digs some things out of the drawer and turns back to you, one hand behind her back. She kneels on the bed next to you and reaches "above" your head, pressing her chest against your face. Is she reaching ... behind the headboard? Under the mattress? You're honestly too distracted by memories and fantasies about the last time you had your prick between those marvelous tits to pay much attention.

She retrieves whatever she was looking for, then gives a short, sharp tug on something that causes the bed to creak slightly, once to each side of your head.

She sits up and straddles your belly, the warmth of her crotch and ass soaking into your belly and groin, making your cock twitch in its prison and causing a familiar, excited fluttering in your belly and solar plexus. She reaches to the mattress beside you and holds up a padded, leather cuff. "Your wrist please, Chasty."

"Wha ... ?"

She leans down and kisses you once again, coincidentally giving you a good look down her shirt at her bra-encased boobs. "Look, Chasty, I know what you're doing. Or at least I hope I do. I'm proud of you for it. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna trust you with your prick free. Not yet. Not after your ... little failure. After less than two weeks. So if you want to do this ... Give. Me. Your. Wrist."

You sigh, unsure if you're making a big mistake, and lift your wrist, placing it in Cassie's hand. She gives you another smile, wraps the cuff around your wrist, and lifts it above your head. You watch as she stretches out your arm and ties the cuff to a short length of rope that seems to disappear under the mattress, then as she does the same with your other wrist and both ankles before, finally, she stands up, pulls the cord holding "your" key over her head, unlocks and finally frees your penis ...

... Which starts growing and hardening almost immediately. Cassie looks down at it, smiling a little, but rather than touching or even approaching you, she starts to touch ... herself, placing one hand between her legs, rubbing her pussy through her yoga pants, and the other under her t-shirt, where you can just barely see as she lifts her bra and starts pinching her nipples. Then she slips her hand under the pants.

Your cock keeps getting harder and harder, to the point where it's leaking pre-cum and you're humping the air in a ****, only semiconscious, and completely ineffective search for relief.

By the time she climaxes, you're absolutely whimpering with need. She smiles down at you, a mischievous gleam in her eye, and straddles you again, grinding het pussy into your torso just above where your needy cock is straining for her touch.

She looks back at it and says, "Oh, Chasty. Looks like SOMEbody wants a little attention." Turning back to face you, she asks, "You want me to take care of that for you?"