You can call it what ever you like: Orgasm control, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, et cetera. But if you have any hope at all that you’re going to hear Me say, “Yes, you may cum.” you should realize that you are always working your way up from the default answer, NO.
I have nothing invested in your achieving climax. You see, I get My enjoyment from your desperation, from the desire that builds inside of you and the pressure that builds in those balls when I tell you what to do with your cock, and how to do it. Many times, unbeknownst to you, My fingers are wandering down into My panties and rubbing a soaked pussy as I listen to you moan and beg. I lay on My chaise in a sunny bay window and imagine how red the head of your cock must be, how like a melting candle it must look, with all that precum dripping down, and all I want is more of that. Why would I let that pleasure go so easily, or at all? What’s in it for Me to let you cum?
Your only hope is to cross your fingers (at least those that are unoccupied with stroking), follow directions, and offer up your edges to Me with as much humility as any supplicant would to a fickle and stingy Goddess on Her throne. I may give the verbal equivalent of an almost imperceptible nod, or I may wave you away, bored and unsatisfied with your efforts, left to scurry out of My sight with your throbbing and desperate flesh in your hand. The only benevolence left to you then is that I won’t insist you refrain from crying out your disappointment as you retreat. I’ll just put the sound in My spank bank for later!
Are you wondering which direction the weather vane of My caprice is pointing today? Dare you try your luck? Well, lube up that cock, listen in, and prepare to work your way from NO.
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