Three days.

It had been three full days of nothing but edging. My pussy was begging for release and I existed in a state of constant wetness. When I finally managed to sleep, my dreams were a jumble of erotic images and situations. I had trouble concentrating at work. With each heartbeat I could feel a faint pulse on my tortured clit, as though even my own body wanted to betray me.

What made it even worse was the knowledge that it was all my own fault. For every one of those edges, I had been the one choosing to press the button, just as I had chosen to play the game in the first place. I could just as easily put my phone down and beg Sir for an orgasm, but my pride wouldn't allow that.

I woke up on Saturday with Sir still asleep beside me, and felt an irrational hope that this would be the moment my luck would change. It was certainly due to - it had been more than thirty spins since I last had an orgasm. I was beginning to wonder whether Sir had somehow rigged the game against me.

I grabbed up my phone and hit the spin button. I had to close my eyes. I couldn't stand watching the animation, seeing the Orgasm segment slide past the marker over and over. After waiting more than long enough, I opened my eyes and looked down.

"No touch"

No! It wasn't fair! I gasped and jerked backward, as if pulling away from my screen could change the result. My pussy clenched in sympathy and I felt her pain. I felt guilty. After all, hadn't I been wishing for a change, to not land on "edge" again? It seemed that fate had cruelly granted that wish.

I seriously considered pretending that this spin had never happened and trying again, but what if my initial reaction had been enough to wake Sir and he'd glanced at my screen before sleeping again? He would know I cheated. And so would I. I couldn't do it.

I switched apps and tried to read, thinking that maybe I wouldn't be so bad if I could take my mind off my desperate pussy. It didn't work too well, I couldn't absorb anything I read and the few words that did make it through all seemed to be connected with sex in one way or another.

Sir woke up around half an hour later. Before I even said good morning to him, I blurted out the result of my spin. I don't know what I expected from him. Some sympathy maybe? Perhaps the chance to spin again? What I received instead was borderline indifference. Like he acknowledged the fact, but didn't even consider what it meant.

I cuddled up to Sir as we lay in bed together, subtly pressing my body against his in an unspoken appeal for his attention. Although the rules were clear about me not being allowed to touch myself, they didn't apply to him. I thought perhaps I could take advantage of him still waking up and get the orgasm my body craved that way.

If Sir noticed that I was being more affectionate than usual, he hid it well. Aside from a single kiss and his hand lingering on my back, he showed no sign of responding to my attempts at seduction and after half an hour or so he got up to make breakfast.

After we'd eaten I tried again, sitting on his lap as he talked through the jobs around the house he wanted to get done. I say his lap, but really it would be more accurate to say that I was astride one of his legs while Sir held me with an arm around my waist.

I could feel his muscular thigh beneath me and I shifted slightly until I felt the pressure on just the right spot. I'll admit I wasn't thinking clearly, but I felt that if I could move just a little then maybe I could ease the ache I felt without him realising. Of course that was ridiculous. I was practically humping his leg at the breakfast table, how could he not notice?

"Is it really that bad?" He asked me.

I jumped, feeling a little guilty and made an effort to sit still. "Yes Sir" I answered "Can I...?"

He eased me to my feet "Wait there a second" he told me, and disappeared into the bedroom. He emerged shortly afterwards carrying a pair of leather wrist cuffs. I got angry at myself then, for daring to think that he might have been doing something to help me.

With a resigned sigh I turned away and put my arms behind my back. Sir slipped the cuffs onto me and sealed them closed with small padlocks, but to my surprise he didn't link them together immediately. Instead he pulled my right arm around to the front and as I bent double connected them between my thighs.

As Sir stepped back I recognised my predicament immediately. With my wrists locked together, I couldn't stand up properly. Even crouching was awkward, with either my palm or fingers being pulled against my oh so sensitive pussy.

"Sir! What am I supposed to do now?" I virtually wailed at him.

He smirked and walked away into the front room. "Why don't you come and sit down?" He asked.

After the first step I knew I was in trouble. It was impossible for me to walk without some part of my hand or arm rubbing my clit. By the fifth I was shaking. The repeated accidental contacts inflamed my pussy. The mental conflict between being forbidden to touch myself and at the same time being forced to do exactly that nearly broke me, leaving the single thought "I mustn't cum, I mustn't cum" repeating over and over in my head as I took each slow, faltering step.

A wave of relief washed over me as I reached the sofa and lowered myself onto it. My hand was covered in my juices, but somehow I'd got there without sparking an orgasm.

The next problem I faced was how to sit. With my hands linked as they were, it was hard to find a good position. In the end I settled for leaning against Sir with my legs curled under me. I was comfortable, but i was acutely aware of my fingers resting dangerously close to my wet and eager entrance, and my palm hovering no more than an inch from my clit.

We sat like that watching TV for an hour, maybe more. I was constantly imagining my fingers curling over and slipping inside me or my palm gliding up and down across my clit. It would be so easy to do, and the cuffs gave me a near perfect excuse. Maybe that was what Sir wanted from me, and it was wrong for me to keep resisting the urge? I couldn't quite convince myself of that though, and somehow stayed strong.

My thoughts were interrupted by a different need though, one I couldn't deny for long. "Sir, I need the toilet" I told him.

He looked at me for a long second, then reached down to release the clip holding my cuffs together. It was maddening to have his hand right there between my thighs and to not feel his touch. As I felt my wrists release, I lifted my hips hopefully towards him, but his hand had already pulled back.

I admit I spent a little longer than I should in the bathroom, but not for the reason you might think. I was actually happy to have my hands away from my pussy, to not be fighting every second against that temptation. It felt good to just be able to stretch my shoulders and back too.

When I came back out, I sat down normally, hoping that Sir had finished punishing me. Strangely it did seem to have helped. Although my pussy still dripped and begged to be touched, I was able to tune her out for the most part and we got on with our day. Sir however didn't unlock the cuffs, perhaps keeping them on me as a reminder, perhaps he simply forgot them.

Everything was fine until that evening, when I helped him to prepare dinner. He stood behind me while I was stirring the pot and I unthinkingly ground my ass into him, then reached back to stroke his cock through his trousers.

Normally he'd love me not being able to keep my hands from him, but this wasn't a normal day. He banished me from the kitchen, ordering me to sit at the table and wait. When he joined me, he was again holding the clip for the cuffs. Sir had me pass my arms through the back of my chair and fastened them together.

He left me sat like that, unable to move while he finished cooking and put our food on plates. When he brought it out and put mine on the table in front of me, it didn't escape me that I didn't get a knife and fork. "Eat up, you don't want to let it go cold" he told me.

I just looked at him in surprise and pulled my cuffed hands against the chair "Like this?" I asked him.

He shrugged and said "Of course" like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I held back as long as I could, but the food smelt so good, and I was so hungry. Eventually I gave in and dropped my head to the plate and ate like an animal. It was embarrassing. Worse than that, humiliating. I tried to be careful, but I could feel the sauce smeared into my cheeks and dribbling down my chin.

That wasn't the worst part though. The worst of it was that some small piece of me actually enjoyed it, enjoyed that Sir was treating me like this, like a pet that he needed to train, something he owned. As I ate, my mind wandered. If I was willing to do this to please him, where would I draw the line? Eating from a bowl, kneeling naked on the floor? If he ordered me to, I wasn't too sure I would say no.

I finished eating and Sir wiped my face clean before releasing my arms. That's when Sir surprised me yet again. "Since you've been such a good girl for me today, you get a reward." He held out my phone. "If you want to, you can spin the wheel one more time tonight."

I practically snatched it from his hand and pressed the button. This time I didn't look away, but watched the animation like a hawk.

I still didn't get an orgasm, but I've never been happier to see the word "edge" in my life...