This morning began with Sir taking control, as usual. He wasted no time in using me, reminding me of my place. The way he teased and tormented me was both thrilling and torturous. He brought me right to the edge of ecstasy, my body trembling with anticipation. Just when I thought he would let me cum, he pulled back, leaving me desperate and aching.

Sir then gave me a ruined orgasm, a cruel mix of pleasure and frustration. As I neared the peak again, my entire body tensed, ready for release. My pussy throbbed with anticipation, desperate to cum. My clit was so swollen and sensitive, each touch sending waves of pleasure through me. I felt the tension building, my orgasm so close I could taste it. But just as the orgasm was about to wash over me, Sir expertly denied it. He kept stimulating me just enough to send me over the edge, but not enough to allow a full, satisfying release. My body convulsed with the ghost of an orgasm, my pussy clenching around nothing, leaving me breathless and aching.

The sensation of the ruined orgasm was intense and maddening. My pussy clenched and throbbed, desperate for the release that was cruelly taken away. The pleasure had been so close, only to fizzle out into an unsatisfying, incomplete sensation. My clit remained painfully swollen and sensitive, every movement reminding me of the pleasure I was denied. The frustration was exquisite torture, amplifying my need and making me even more desperate.

The rest of the day was a blur. My mind kept drifting back to the morning, replaying the way Sir made me feel. Every time I moved, I felt the lingering effects of his touch, a constant reminder of my submission and the pleasure he withheld. My pussy stayed wet and throbbing, the frustration of the ruined orgasm a delicious torture that kept me on edge.

Tonight, my boyfriend had no interest in sex, leaving me even more frustrated and needy. I go to bed with my body still aching, the memory of this morning’s session fresh in my mind.

Forever your desperate, aching slut, Rosie x