Focus.

She tastes like lemon tart. Must remember to tell Lizzy.

Focus.

She’s gorgeous and that’s not me seeing the world through rainbow colored glasses.  She really is. Tall, blonde, athletic.  She would have fit right in on the women’s volleyball team.

Focus. 

It’s been exactly 27 days since I’ve had an orgasm. Since I’ve been allowed an orgasm.  Not to say I haven’t masturbated in 27 days. Sometimes two or three times a day right to the brink, but never over.

Focus. 

Blue looks good on her.  No, it looks fucking great on her, especially with a dress so tight that it leaves nothing to the imagination.

Focus.

I want – no, I need – to come so bad that it is physically painful not to.  And it would be so easy to just let myself go, but I’m waiting for permission.

Focus.

It is very possible I will explode and die very soon.  If I wasn’t gagged, I would warn her. It’s all I can do to-

Focus-

On no cumming, trying to think of anything but the feel of her-

FOCUS!

-boot against my cunt as I rub myself against it, smearing it with so much pussy juice that it’s dripping down both sides of her ankle and onto the floor.

Focus.

Black leather boots with four inch stiletto heels. Nine West. I know my boots. Saturated with my lust. Not just the nectar from my cunt, but my saliva from when she had me licking them earlier.

Focus.

Her grip on my hair is unrelenting, pulling painfully at my scalp, helping me to-

Focus.

My thighs and calves burn. I’ve been squatting, precariously balanced, over her upraised calf, degrading myself, frantically grinding against her shoe for what, fifteen minutes? Closer to twenty.

Focus.

The rope securing my wrists in a figure eight tie digs into my flesh, almost painfully. I concentrate on the pain, using it to keep me from cumming before she says the magic words.  Her smile is so beautiful as she watches me with fierce blue eyes that I want to weep.

Focus. 

I can feel the drool sliding down my tits, my breastbone, the gag in my mouth making it hard to swallow.

Focus.

Nothing exists but her and my overwhelming need to lose myself in physical orgasmic ecstasy-

FOCUS!

She has cum three times since we put away the dinner dishes, and who knows how many times since the morning she told me ‘Let’s make something perfectly clear. Everything I do to you, every pleasure you feel when you're with me, every hurt you endure, every degrading humiliation, every time I allow you to make me cum, any time I allow you to cum – you will have to earn. Is that understood?’

Focus.

I am grinding myself against her so hard that it hurts.

Focus.

I’m loud, too. Moaning, panting, groaning. It’s humiliating. I don’t care. I am focused on her mouth, her perfectly even teeth, the curve of her unadorned lips, waiting for her to form the words. Words that will set me free of this agony.

Focus.

And then, they do, she does, her words so soft I can barely make them out. 

Focus!

Three simple words.

FOCUS!

‘Come for me.’

I lose all focus and come harder than I ever have, legs spread wide, against the ankle of her boot, before collapsing boneless on the floor at her feet.