Cassidy had always been a submissive, and after a brief flirtation with a handsome, commanding man by the name of Brian, neither Cassidy (nor her rebelliously eager cunt) had any hesitation in agreeing to consensually become his sex-slave.
But she had underestimated how deliciously cruel Brian actually was.
Every morning before going to work, Brian would masturbate Cassidy to the edge of orgasm – but refuse to let her cum.
“Here are your rules for today,” he would say. “You are to remain naked. You are to write me a one-thousand word essay about your sexual fantasies or your cunt. And you are forbidden to touch your pussy for any reason, directly or indirectly, unless it is to place this on your clitoris.” And he handed her a wickedly strong bulldog clip.
It was torture long before she resorted to the clamp. Her cunt got wetter and wetter as she thought about it, and wrote about it, but she couldn’t touch it to relieve its need. Oh, she could have broken her rules – Brian wasn’t there, he wouldn’t know – but she hadn’t consented to be his slave just to make a mockery of it. Besides, *she* would know, and how could she ever enjoy him telling her she was a good girl with that deception on her conscience?
So she moaned, and pressed her legs together, and desperately wanted to masturbate. But she obeyed her rules.
She didn’t want the clamp. She had tried it on her finger – and it *hurt*. It was so tight! It would crush her poor clitoris!
She lasted a whole day, until Brian came home. Then he masturbated her to the edge of orgasm again, before tying her hands to the bed so she couldn’t touch herself, and leaving her to sleep.
The next morning, she was even hornier – and once again, he played with her pussy till she was screaming, begging to be allowed to cum – and then he went to work, leaving her with the same rules.
She broke at lunchtime. She needed sensation in her pussy – anything. In desperation, she spread her legs, took the clamp, and let it close on her clitoris.
She screamed. The pain was agonising. She wanted to remove the clamp – but Brian hadn’t said anything about taking it off. She bucked, and bucked again – and then suddenly she was orgasming, cumming from the pain. She felt her pussy squirting – something it had never done from an orgasm before – and she moaned loud enough for the neighbours to hear, unable to help herself.
When it was over, the pain was still there. Whimpering, she picked up her phone and called Brian. When he answered, she was mostly incoherent.
“Good slut, please,” she heard herself say, and struggled to rearrange the words. “Please. Did clamp. Good slut. Followed rules. Came from pain. Please take off clamp? Good slut clitoris hurt – cum – take off?”
Brian laughed – and his mockery made her orgasm again, moaning into the phone. When she was done, Brian showed her mercy.
“Yes, you can take off the clamp, slut,” he said. “And you did the right thing. Always ring me for permission before removing it.”
Gratefully, she unclipped the clamp – and had a third orgasm from the pain as blood flowed back into her crushed clit.
If she had thought the torture was over, though, she was wrong. That night, Brian masturbated her again, and then tied her up again, and masturbated her in the morning, and gave her the same rules. Cassidy was almost crying with frustration as he left her on the edge of orgasm.
This time she didn’t wait. She went straight for the clamp, and let it snap onto her delicate, sensitive clitoris.
The pain was once again agonising – but to her horror and frustration, she didn’t cum. She was so close, but she needed just a little more stimulation – but she couldn’t touch her pussy, and she couldn’t touch the clamp again either.
She wept. She tried to wiggle her hips, to make the clamp jerk on her clitoris, but it just wasn’t heavy enough.
Sobbing, she rang Brian. “I’ve got the clamp on,” she said. “I’m a good slut. But I haven’t cum. Please can I cum? Please?”
But this time, Brian’s mercy was all used up. “No, slut,” he said. “If you can’t cum from the pain now, then I guess you just can’t cum. And no, you may not remove the clamp until I ring you back.”
She gaped in disbelief. She had only managed to keep the clamp on for about seven minutes last time, and that had been with the endorphins of an orgasm. She wanted it off *now*. She couldn’t wait.
But she was a good slut. So she did. And she found that soon enough the pain faded to a dull nagging in her pussy. She still wanted to play with herself. She lay curled in a foetal position around the clamp until Brian rang her back.
It took an entire half-hour for the phone to ring.
“Are you ready, slut?” asked Brian when she answered.
“Yes please good girl clamp off please clamp off please?” she babbled incoherently.
“I want you to say, ‘I deserve this,’” said Brian. “Then remove the clamp. Then as soon as you’re able to speak afterwards, say, ‘Thank you for doing this to me.’”
“I deserve this,” said Cassidy at once, eager to remove the clamp. She reached down and plucked the hateful thing from her pussy – and screamed into the phone. The pain of the blood returning to her bruised, sensitive flesh was a million times worse than yesterday. But at the same time it made her orgasm once – twice – three – five times, in rapid succession, spasming, drooling, mewling nonsensically into the phone.
She didn’t know how long it took her to return to her senses. When she did, her first words were, “Thank you for doing this to me.”
“Good slut,” said Brian, and hung up.
After that, she swore she would never use the clamp again. But Brian teased her again that night, and the next morning, and by the middle of the next day she was sobbing, knowing that she *needed* to cum, that she couldn’t help herself, that orgasming like a slut was more important to her than not being tortured.
She looked at the clamp dubiously. She remembered not cumming from applying it. She remembered trying to jerk it around to give her sensation.
She got out a length of string, and found one of her heavier earrings – about the weight of a couple of large coins. She tied the earring to the handle of the clamp. Then she spread her legs and put it back on her clit.
Again, it hurt – although nothing compared to the pain of removing it yesterday. And again, she didn’t cum.
But she knew what to do now. She stood up, with her legs apart, and let the earring-weight fall between her legs. She gasped softly as her clit took the weight of it. It felt *good*. And then, with some nervousness, because she knew she was about to hurt herself, she bounced on the balls of her feet.
The earring went up – and came down hard, pulling at her clit with the force of its weight and acceleration. She squeaked – and then the orgasm came. Her pussy squirted, making a puddle on the floor. Her legs went weak, and she fell to her knees – accompanied by another jerk on her clitoris, and another orgasm. She slowly slid to lie on the ground, happily, buzzing with the pleasure of cumming.
In time she rang Brian. And as before, he told her to leave the clamp on until he rang back. This time he took three quarters of an hour.
“I deserve this,” she breathed into the phone as she prepared to remove the clamp, and then Brian heard nothing but howls, crying, and orgasmic sobs. Then, some time later, “Thank you for doing this to me.”
Brian kept her on the regime for three weeks. Each day it took Cassidy a little more to cum. She learned to add more weight to her clamp. Sometimes she would jump up and down two or three times before the pain made her orgasm. Near the end of the second week, Brian bought her a little exercise trampoline, and Cassidy cried, and kissed him, and told him she hated him and that she loved him, because she knew how much jumping on it with her clit weights would hurt, and she knew that she was going to do it anyway.
In the third week she was applying the clamp twice a day, and leaving it on for 90 minutes each time.
At the end of three weeks, Brian told her it was over. Instead of masturbating her, he stuck his cock into her pussy, and began fucking her.
And that was when Cassidy *really* cried, because with dawning horror she realised she wasn’t going to cum from his cock. Because she was missing something – something she needed.
She needed the clamp on her clitoris.
Humiliated, she begged Brian to clamp her clit as he fucked her. He put the clamp into her own hand, and she said, “I deserve this,” before letting it clamp shut on her clitoris. Then she whispered, “Thank you for doing this to me,” as he resumed fucking her.
“You’re welcome,” said Brian. “You’ve been a very good girl. You’ve learned to take your clamp like a good little slut. And now you’re ready for the next step. You’re going to attach a dog leash to your clamp, and put it on your slutty little clit, and give me the handle of the leash. And then we’re going to take you for a walk out in public…”
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I would like to read a sequel to this story with some nice public humiliation.