She pushed open the door to her apartment and stomped down the hall to her room. He had done this to her. She did not know how, but it was him. She closed the door behind her sharply and tossed her bag across the floor. She fell to her knees, the power of the tingling between her legs was overwhelming. It was just like earlier today. Twice it had set upon her during the day. The cloudiness, the neediness, the insistent wetness, all conspiring against her to make her beg.

She had begged. She had pleaded. And at last he finally relented and let her cum. She did not care that she was in the middle of a room of people. She did not care if the wet spot showed on her jeans. She had to orgasm and orgasm hard for him. She had been at lunch the first time. The throbbing had begun when she woke up. Slowly it gained a hold of her, growing ever so slowly and steadily. By the time she sat down to eat she could feel the wetness of her panties reinforcing everything she was feeling.

It was maddening. She sent him a message pleading to ease the tingles. He replied asking what the problem was. Oh, he knew, he always knew. He often knew before she did, where her hand was, how wet she was. He was toying with her. He was toying with her and she liked it. He controlled her, they both knew it. And she liked that as well. She pleaded again and again, answering his questions. And finally he relented and let her cum. There in front of God and everybody in the cafeteria, she had the most amazing orgasm. There was no denying it now. Her panties were soaked and she still had several hours left of her day.

It was a long couple of hours. The wetness brushing against her skin was like a feedback loop. Every little movement, every breath she took brushed them against her sensitive private place. She shifted in her chair. No, that was the wrong move, the prolonged contact made her even needier, even cloudier. It was not long before the only thought on her mind was her now buzzing private parts. She could only think of having him inside her and the release it might give her.

She texted again. She knew he had seen it by now, but he was waiting on purpose. He was enjoying how much she was suffering. She was enjoying it too. She longed to suffer for him now, if only for the small hope that he would grant her a temporary reprieve. Finally, the words flashed on the screen. Her body responded without hesitation. And then the next words came. She dug her fingers deep inside her before pulling them out and licking them cleaning. Over and over she did this, not caring who saw, not caring what they thought.

Now she was home. She stripped off her shirt and undid her bra. She pinched her nipples just like he had done in the past. The shock traveled straight to between her leg, just as she knew it would. She pinched the other nipple even harder. Her hips were now writhing. The lust and longing to be filled taking over her mind and body and sexuality. She knelt for a few minutes continuing to roll her nipples between her fingers. But now she had to feel it. Now she had to touch it. Now she had to become one with it.

She stood up and removed the rest of her clothes. She looked in the mirror longingly at her nakedness. She need something, something to fill the emptiness inside her. But that was still weeks away. He would visit, filling every one of her holes with his manhood and his sweet, sweet cream. She grabbed the lace coverup he had given her and crawled into bed. Her hand had been in her skirt the entire way home. And now she was free to feel the wetness and the warmth on her fingers.

She slid them gingerly over her clit. Her body shivered at the contact. He did this to her she thought again as the current spread through her body. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe she did this to herself. She could not think clearly. The cloudiness was to thick and the neediness to deep. She slid her fingers into her sopping wet little hole. Oh, that felt good she thought, anything to take the edge off. She alternated back and forth between her special spots. Each one reinforced the other. The body quivered for a moment and then was wracked with pleasure as the orgasm filled every fiber of her. She bucked on the bed overcome by the totality of it.

She gasped loudly trying to catch her breath. The shaking would not stop. It was several minutes before her body was calm again. One down and three more to go she counted to herself. She could feel the air on her sensitive skin and even that was enough send her hips grinding. She ground her hops harder and harder. There was nothing there, but she could feel it all the same. She could feel the wet escaping from her and rolling down across her ass. That made her even more desperate. She begged to cum twice before she remembered he had given her permission.

Her body quaked violently as the orgasm took hold. She felt wave after wave of pleasure fill her body. She could no longer think. She could not longer fear. Everything was about the throbbing between her legs and the overpowering desire to debase herself and prove how depraved she was to him. As the shaking finally passed, she put her hand between her legs to feel the touch of skin on skin. But the instant her hand touched her clit the next orgasm started every bit as powerful as the last.

She rolled to her side and curled up in the fetal position. It was all to much. Her mind was melting under the influence of her private parts. She could feel it now. All she wanted was to cum and cum and cum again until there was nothing left. She carefully put her hand between her legs once more and the effect was the same as before. She came hard. Her body convulsed at the touch. Her little hole leaked even more across her thigh cause another round to start.

She lay wheezing desperate to catch her breath. No she thought, he did not do this. She went willingly. She wanted to be a cloudy, needy, wet cum slut and now she was. She had been from the first minute she admitted to him that was what she wanted. She knew it, she had always known it. That was what she was always meant to be. He had just released her from her doubts, her fear, her self criticism, and her worry to be be what she wanted.