Two hundred days. It feels almost unreal to say it, yet here I am—200 days without an orgasm.

There have been moments when the need became almost unbearable. His body would ache with desire, the constant pulse of arousal leaving me on edge. In those times, I found myself pleading with Sir, begging for the release that felt so desperately out of reach. But Sir, in His unwavering control, would gently but firmly deny me, reminding me that my pleasure is not mine to give or take. It belongs to Him, and it's His decision whether I'm allowed to experience it.

My wonderful Sir has guided me through this with such precision and care. His control is unwavering, yet there's a tenderness in the way He pushes me to my limits. He knows exactly how to keep me teetering on the edge, how to make me crave what I can't have. He knows me very well. His firmness in maintaining my denial has taught me to embrace the ache, to find fulfillment in surrender.

I don't know when Sir will decide to grant me release, and honestly, that's part of the thrill. It's entirely up to Him, and I trust Him. He knows what's best for me. I will continue to submit, to please, to embrace the sweet torment of denial — remaining constantly wet, needy, and desperate for Him. I am deeply grateful, lucky, happy pet 🥰