Hello, wonderful women who love to be denied! Here is a story for you, from a soft maledom perspective, which I hope will convey all the respect and appreciation that I have for you, and which may or may not have been inspired by my own experiences and/or desires - it is addressed to *you*, and I hope you will resonate with it.

The actual focus on denial doesn't come until part 2. That's because you like being teased and made to wait, so you're temporarily denied your denial story. (Nah. I actually wanted to write everything at once, but it was getting too long, so I decided to split it and post what I had, and the second part will come later.) At least in part 1 you can enjoy a nice ruin. In the story, I mean. Or IRL as well, if you're allowed.

Life is hard. When I come home after a long day at work and I'm tired and grumpy and frustrated with people, all I want is for my woman to bring me some positivity, to cheer me up, to give me some faith in humanity again.

... and there you are, all smiles, as soon as I open the door. You rush into my arms and you press into me. You look so happy to see me, you are so happy to see me, and as I hold you tight and gently kiss your lips, my bad mood dissipates already. My baby girl is here for me, and wants to take good care of me. You're so energetic and enthusiastic and cheerful and loving, and that warms my heart. Oh, I know that it is - in a large part - a ploy to goad me into finally letting you cum tonight, and you know that I know, but we both enjoy that little game a lot. I can't get enough of the affection you're giving me, I find it so wonderful, I find you so wonderful, even though I'm not saying it too often because you might get greedy or disobedient or think I'm sappy. I am a sensitive man, but I keep it to myself most of the time.

I think of the strong, powerful, independent woman that you are outside. You navigate life like a boss, you seem so confident and self-assured, you walk with your head high and you don't take any bullshit. And I respect and love that so much, and I smile, because I know where your power comes from, and I love connecting you with that power. Tonight, we're celebrating it again: we're making you feel like a woman, fully in touch with your femininity, with no hangups and no pretense; we're letting your slutty, submissive, desperate side come out and take the spotlight.

I have always wanted the best things for my partners, I have always wanted to make them happy - because if not, what's the point of being together, right? And I'm a nurturer at heart: I love taking care of my baby girl, making her feel good and safe and contented.

Before I met you, I used to think the best way to make my partner happy in bed was to give her lots of orgasms. And that's what I did at first. We would be slowly making out, I would tease you, gently nibbling at your neck, tracing lines over your body with my hands, cupping your wonderful breasts, kissing you, testing the wetness of your pussy with my fingers and softly caressing your clit for a second, then removing my hand, to increase the anticipation. And when you were ready, I would make my way down, starting by kissing your lips, then every inch of your body, your neck, your chest, your belly, your mound, until I reached your other lips. There, I would grab your ass with my hands, bury my head between your thighs, and use my lips and tongue on your clit and labia, feeling your reactions and adjusting my moves, sometimes going faster, sometimes slowing down to drive you wild, then diving in again on the right spot and staying there until you screamed and shook in pleasure and I could feel your contractions under my mouth; then I would slow down, then stop, and lay my head on your belly while you caught your breath. Sometimes, you indicated that you could cum again, and we would do it again, and again, until you were a shaking, leaking, panting mess.

It was good. It made me rock hard, every single time, and I loved it.

But it wasn't perfect.

After you had cum, you were not as motivated as before. When it was time for me to cum, of course you would be with me, of course you wanted to give me pleasure and take my cum, but there wasn't that unbridled lust and hunger. Your hips weren't bucking wildly, uncontrollably, against me; your nails weren't leaving marks on my back; your kisses weren't as frenzied as they were before. Before I finished, you were already, slowly, coming down, and not entirely there anymore. And when we were done, you would be uninterested in sex for at least a day, often more.

In a way, without even realizing it, you were taking me for granted, baby girl, and subconsciously, you were mistaking my giving nature for weakness. That would not do. That would not do at all.

Over a period of several weeks, I started to tease you a little more, progressively delaying gratification. When you were about to cum, I would stop, and hear you moan in frustration; I would let the tension fall down a little, then resume my caresses. I know exactly where your edge is, baby girl, and I would get you closer and closer every time. You hated it at first, and you were whimpering and whining and protesting and bitching, but I did not relent; and the more you protested, the more I delayed your orgasm. At some point, you were being particularly bratty, and I slapped your ass; that seemed to make you understand. I would always make you cum, but you just had to accept that it was on my terms; eventually, you stopped bitching and started pleading instead, implicitly acknowledging that I was the one in control. That was a serious improvement, and you did not have to wait too long for your orgasm that day.

And then, one time, I was particularly horny, and eating your delicious pussy and hearing your soft moans and whimpers was getting me all worked up; you were able to sustain quite a few edges by then, and we had been at it for a while. I needed to receive attention.

So I brought you to the edge with my mouth, and kept you there, and this time I made it last, longer than ever before. You were panting and moaning and writhing and sweating, you were such a beautiful and sexy mess. My dick twitched, and while you were teetering on the edge, I got up and straddled you, my dick right in front of your face, and I pinned your arms above your head. Like an animal in heat, driven by pure lust and desperation, you instinctively opened your mouth wide and stuck out your tongue, inviting me, so I stuck my dick in your mouth and you started sucking it wantonly, and as I fucked your mouth, that one stimulation was too much for you, and you came.

It was extraordinary. Your empty pussy was desperately twitching and contracting behind me; your hips and legs were out of control, you were kicking the air wildly and bucking your hips for an attempt at stimulation, but you couldn't move since I was straddling your chest and pinning your arms; and you would have been screaming hadn't you had a dick in your mouth, but judging by how fast you were working on it, you clearly didn't want to let it go. The sight, and the feeling of your lips and tongue on my sensitive cock brought me over the edge, and while you were still in the throes of your ruin, I shuddered and sent several streams of cum directly down your throat. How you managed to avoid choking, I have no idea, but you did - you swallowed it all, breathing furiously through your nose. Then I withdrew and laid down next to you, and took you in my arms. You were shaking and panting and crying a little, and put a hand on your poor clit, trying to rub it, but I gently took that hand away and put it on my shoulder, and you didn't resist. Then I held you tight, comforting you, caressing your hair, cupping your face, and planting small kisses on it. It's okay, baby girl, I said. It's okay.

Honestly, I half expected you to be pretty mad at me for ruining your orgasm - but I had severely underestimated you. Instead of being mad, you looked into my eyes, and I will never forget that look you gave me. It was a mixture of love, longing, a hefty dose of sadness and regret for the wasted orgasm, but also acceptance, submissiveness, and a pinch of something like wonder, the shock and surprise of discovering you were reacting that way, of having maybe unlocked something, what is this? do I want to explore this? what does that make me? am I normal? am I broken? am I a slut?

And then you licked your lips and opened your mouth, showing me there was still a good amount of semen remaining on your tongue, then you closed your mouth and swallowed with a loud gulp while looking me straight in the eyes. And you put your head on my chest, and this is what you finally said:

"I'm sorry for cumming without permission."

That's when I knew I was with the right girl.

-- The end of part 1 --