Kinksame

Things proceeded like that for a good while afterwards. Once a week you'd be restrained and unlocked for a prolonged teasing session that inevitably ended with you begging to cum, and trying not to weep as she pulled out the ice pack that would send you back into chastity without too much of a fuss. Every night, even after exhausting you with edges, she'd mount your face to ride it to numerous screaming orgasms more powerful than anything your cock had ever managed. Then once a month if she was satisfied with your performance, both as a sex slave and a domestic servant, she'd let you out of the cage for a handjob so agonisingly slow the resulting orgasm barely relieved an ounce of the frustration she'd cultivated but still lefty you bleary eyed and grateful for the tiny amount of satisfaction she'd allowed. Your sole remaining comfort was the one time a year on your anniversary that she let you remember what it was like to have sex for real- even as your increasingly diminished stamina meant it was a shorter and shorter treat.