“I love the pathetic noises you make as you squirm”
Has it been an hour? Or ten minutes? Or ninety minutes? More?
I have no idea.
It is dark, I’m encased in the vac bed – and whilst this feels quite tight, every now and then I feel Ms Evilyne pumping more air in as it wraps into *every* crack and crevasse.
All I can see is darkness and the vivid fantasies in my head. Every one I feel guilty about, every one a distraction.
All I feel is torment as I edge closer and closer…
“Thank You, Mistress” – a genuine appreciation as I’m denied orgasm over and over again.
I didn’t know what the plans for the day were.
I knew W/we were using the Vac-Bed, but I didn’t know what that entailed.
I’ve seen assorted clips and pictures involving a Vac Bed. She knows I’m a foot fetishist, so this could be used for forced or denied smelling and worship. No, there’s no face hole. There’s no eye holes. So that is out.
I’m aware of how tight and intense being in a Vac Bed can be, despite having never used one before – so perhaps this was for some other form of sensory deprivation teasing.
Or, with my cock pulled out of a hole at the bottom… some form of CBT?
I didn’t know.
Lubed up, I slid in and got comfortable.
“I’m going to explain the rules,” boomed Ms Evilyne.
“Oh God,” I thought… “I know where this is going”
“You’re not allowed to cum”
My fears were confirmed.
We are playing ‘Edge of Orgasm’
Ms Evilyne has a detailed blog on the subject here – link
But, to summarise. I know I am going nowhere for the next 2 hours. She will edge me – over – and over – and over.
If I cum, before the 2 hours are up – She will leave me attached to the Venus 2000 machine, on full power, until the 2 hours are up.
My confidence is… well… I was expecting to spill on 5 minutes and have nearly 2 hours of post-orgasm torture.
It is quite a different experience. Normally, in play, the whole world reduces to just the scene. I’ve done play and been unaware of a crowd watching because the world has shrunk so small. This time, it helps to try and remove the mind from the situation.
It feels difficult quite early in the play – and just gets more and more and more intense. Each time I try to think of anything unflattering – such as football or whatever – I feel I’m getting closer and my mind is dragged to one fantasy or another. It’s tighter and closer and aching and I’m so close to release… and…. She stops… “Thank You, Mistress!”
It seems odd. But, I know She has stopped in the nick of time, I know She has stopped me cumming.
“It feels good to be thanked for denying you release!” She chirps.
But, I want to succeed. I don’t want to lose. I know each time She stops the machine it helps me.
It doesn’t feel like the disappointment or frustration of tease and denial, it feels like a relief that I haven’t blown it!
Harder. Faster. Deeper. Tighter. Closer. Stop.
Harder. Faster. Deeper. Deeper. Stop.
Over and over.
Harder. Faster. Deeper. Harder. Faster. Deeper.
The fantasies in my head get more and more vivid. I cannot avoid focus.
Harder. Faster. Deeper. Harder. Faster….
I can’t… I can’t…
The intensity, combined with the compression of the bed… I feel it land on my belly through the tight bed.
“Oh dear,” She mocks, “You know what this means?”
I do. I mutter an almost “Yeah… but no… but yeah…”
“You’re like a cow on the farm,” She chirps!
I have no choice. The machine keeps me hard and I keep cumming over and over and every time I do, it is more and more painful.
I whine in pain and struggle.
This time my mind shifts. My way of getting through this. My way of also avoiding a call for ‘Mercy’. Was taking myself back to the situation, knowing I’d lost and that I must take my punishment.
“The best thing is, you don’t know how much time you’ve got left!”
I don’t, I have no idea. I know it’s been more than 20 minutes. I’m sure of that. Possibly 40. Maybe 60 if I’m lucky.
All the while I wince and struggle, I hear the laughter. Ms Evilyne is loving it.
At one point, when She comments She loves my whines, I start to worry how genuine some of my whines are – so try to keep quiet… and holding it in… well… it just makes me all the more vocal…
There’s a relief when I hear the Venus being shut off. I am actually worried this is false security, that something else isn’t being brought out for my torment. But no, the two hours are up.
“You did really well,” She encourages, “You managed 80 minutes.”
I’m actually quite pleased with that. For being worried I’d mess up after 5-10 minutes to make it over an hour, I can be pleased a bit. Plus, Her encouragement this was a good time is also good to hear.
My balls, by this point, are an utter shrivelled mess. It takes many hours for any form of normality to return and yes – they are defeated.
When W/we say Goodbyes I think I notice for the first time how amazing She looks. We’ve been together for 2 hours but I’ve only really seen darkness! This is possibly the only shame, but, knowing She had a great afternoon makes it more worthwhile and possibly on a future time I’ll have more vision. Then I can see Her mocking my suffering as well as hearing it!
It’d been an afternoon of first times again. My first time in a Vac Bed, first time in confinement, sensory deprivation (I mean, I’ve been blindfolded before – but not for 2 hours) and milking with a Venus.
Of course. I’m quite happy to not try to beat that score – I’m certainly happy to have done this, but not sure I’d want to too often… but then… I don’t necessarily get a choice in the matter. Do I?