This idea has been in my head for a while... ---- "Are you ready?", Grace asked. "Not yet, Mistress Grace", Ryan replied. "If you keep me waiting much longer, you will forfeit your reward." "I just need a few more seconds", he hastily replied. He had already repositioned the chair in the center of the room and removed his clothes, now wearing only his chastity cage. But it had taken extra time to locate the handcuffs. They weren't in their usual spot, and once he remembered where Mistress Grace had used them last, he sprinted upstairs and back. Still a little short of breath from the extra exertion, he sat down in the chair, used the cuffs to secure his wrists behind his back, then announced that he was ready. There was no reply, just silence. He waited, not that he had much choice. The way the cuffs were looped through the back of the chair he wasn't going anywhere without dragging the chair awkwardly behind him. But more importantly, Mistress Grace expected him to remain still and silent, and he did not want to upset her an iota more than he already had. Five minutes later, or perhaps ten, he heard the click of her heels as she entered the room behind him. He could feel her move closer, sense that she was now within inches. The urge to turn his head and gaze at his beautiful Mistress was great. But his obedience was even greater, and remaining still meant looking at the a spot on the floor in front of him, regardless of temptation to do otherwise. "I don't like waiting, pet", she chided. "I should probably cancel your reward, or at the very least deduct a few strokes." "You always know best, Mistress Grace." "Yes, I do, my pet. And tonight I'm feeling generous. So you'll still receive the full reward, and I'll find some other way for you to apologize for your tardiness." "Thank you, Mistress Grace, you are too good to me." She stepped around the chair, her lovely feet and those impossibly high heeled shoes coming into view. Even that meager sight was enough to make his cock throb within its confines. She knelt down, affording him a perfect view of her low cut dress and the key dangling so tantalizingly in front of him. As she removed the necklace, he got an even better view of her cleavage, her breasts shifting gently beneath the fabric that barely concealed anything. He wanted her, ached for her, would to anything for her. Maybe if he was lucky she'd let him see her naked later, let him kiss and caress that beautiful body. Or perhaps not. Tonight could also be one of those evenings that she would insist he remain on his hands and knees, and worship her feet while she remained fully clothed. That was also wonderful, in a different way. But all of that would be later. This moment, right now, would be her gift to him. She turned the key, releasing him from the steel cage that he both loved and hated. His cock swelled in anticipation, growing firmer and larger by the second. She ran her long, red fingernails lightly across it, gentle touches here and there just to make sure he was truly ready. She liked him to be a little closer to the edge before she started. Not too close, mind you, but in the neighborhood. It never took more than a minute or so. When the time was right, she wrapped her hand around his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze. He gasped as she firmly slid her hand all the way down to the base of his cock, then slowly back up until just the tip remained in contact with her hand. "One", she whispered, sending shivers down his spine. After a few seconds she repeated the gesture, announcing the second stroke as she finished. Her voice was intoxicating. Her touch magnificent. Each stroke built upon the last, bringing him closer and closer to orgasm. "Five", she breathed. Half way. It just might be enough. He focused on the sight of her hand sliding down his cock, the smell of her hair, and the sound of her voice. Each stroke felt incredible. "Eight" He knew he was in trouble. The stirrings of a tremendous orgasm were there, but it would take more than two strokes for them to erupt. He tried to will it into happening, tried to convince his body to achieve that release it so desperately needed. "Ten" - a word that he now associated with disappointment and frustration. She removed her hand while his cock screamed for attention. He had been so close. He still was; in fact it might even be too late. To cum now, after she had stopped, would be a crushing defeat with no pleasure at all. He tried to clear his head of any erotic thoughts, closed his eyes so he wouldn't see her. A few deep breaths helped, and after several more seconds he was confident he had avoided that particular crisis. But it had been a close thing. Very close. He opened his eyes and saw her once again kneeling in front of him, a smile on her face. "Did you enjoy your strokes, my pet?" "Yes, Mistress Grace. They were wonderful. I just wish I could have had a few more." "You know the rules, pet. Ten per day. I want to see you explode with ten strokes, no more." "I can't do it, Mistress Grace, ten strokes isn't enough." "Nonsense, pet. Look how much progress you've made. When we started, ten strokes was hardly anything for you. Just a warm up. Now it has you all worked up and about to burst. Tomorrow you'll get even closer. In a few more days you might explode." "But what if I don't, Mistress Grace?" "Then there's always next week, pet, and the one after that." "But what if ten strokes is never enough, Mistress Grace?" "Hmmm, I could say that you'd never have an orgasm, but I'm not that cruel. We'll try ten strokes for a month." "Thank you, Mistress Grace. I know I can handle a month for you." "Oh, I think you misunderstood, my pet. I said we'll try ten strokes for a month. After that we'll try eleven. Eventually we'll find the right number." Ryan was quiet for a moment, still coming to terms with his fate. He calmed himself and gave the reply he knew was expected. "Yes, of course, Mistress Grace. You are wise, as always." With that, she left the room. She would return later to lock him back in the cage and unlock the handcuffs. It usually took him around ten minutes to soften enough to make that even possible. But given his current state, she instead set an alarm for twenty.
Approved! I'm on 90 days of denial. If my Goddess were to mark my release with this, I'd be thrilled. I doubt I'd blow from just ten, even after 90 days, so this would prolong the denial in such a deliciously frustrating way.