Y-yes ... oh, God, yes please ...

You want nothing in this moment but for Cassie to play witb your cock ... touch it, lick it, give you a titjob, anything ... and it doesn't matter any more that you ALREADY feel like you're seconds away from cumming, and she hasn't even touched you yet. You're ... not really thinking clearly anymore.

"Y-yes," you stammer, "Oh, God ... yes. P-please." You are by no means sure how you feel about the new "nickname" Cassie has saddled you with, but desperation has you using it with barely a passing thought. "P-please t-take care of this ... slut."

"Of course, baby," Cassie replies, leaning down to kiss you again before lifting herself off your belly and off the bed. "Be right back," she says, waggling her fingers at you and giggling as she disappears out the bedroom door.

"Cassie? Hey!" you shout, but she makes no audible response, leaving you desperately humping air and fruitlessly trying to turn over despite your bonds, so you can hump the mattress instead. You hear but barely notice the sound of water running in the kitchen.

Cassie reappears after only a minute or two, though it feels more like two years of pure ****. She has one hand hidden behind her back, but in your desperation you barely notice. You're still humping the air as she approaches the bed. "Baby, pleeaAAAAAAIIIGH!!" Your plea for relief ends in a high-pitched, agonized shriek as Cassie drops a Ziploc bag of ice water over your balls and erect prick.

"What the fu-" you gasp when you can breathe again through the agonizing cold, but she quiets your complaints the best way, silencing you with a kiss.

"That's better," she murmurs, rubbing the literally-colder-than-ice bag over your rapidly shrinking unit, "You were getting out of control, Chasty. You were right on the brink, weren't you?"

You nod. She's right, and now that you're ... sort of ... back in control, you know it. You're not sure you're grateful for the "rescue," though, and you express these feelings, quite colorfully in places.

"Don't be that way, Chasty," she scolds, "You promised not to cum if I let little Chasty out to play, remember?"

She pulls the bag of ice water away and starts running her palm over your now soft and shrunken pride-and-joy. "Okay, looks like 'things' have calmed down a little. Do you want to play, or should we lock you back up again?"

Her hand feels better than anything else you can remember feeling before, after twelve days of no stimulation at all. Besides, Cassie's right: you DID promise and you WERE out of control. You sort of wish she'd warned you what she was going to do, but you can talk about that later. "Play," you whisper, until you see her expression cloud up, "Sorry, please play with this slut."

She smiles down at you and kisses you again, squeezing "little Chasty," as she just called it, gently. "Good boy," she says, beginning to kiss her way down your neck and chest while she continues to stroke your still-numb, but recovering and stiffening, cock.

By the time she's tonguing your navel, your cock has warmed and recovered, and your rapid, shallow breathing provides ample evidence that you're enjoying Cassie's attentions immensely. Cassie looks up your chest at you and says, "Remember, you promised not to cum if I touched you tonight. You tell me if you're gonna cum so I can stop it, understand?"

You gulp and nod nervously; you're already almost there. You desperately want to cum, but you promised you wouldn't. Besides, you know she'd be super pissed, and you don't want this night to end, not yet.