On Edge

I’m in trouble.

I’m sitting at my desk, in my cubicle at work, an agonizingly long day stretching before me, and I’m restless. And not just any kind of restless; I’m turned on.

Impossibly turned on.

As in drenched panties, wracked with shudders, trying not to moan out loud, kind of turned on.

Why?

Because of him. The demon in my phone. The sadistic bastard who keeps sending me dick pics and telling me everything he wants to do to my body, but not allowing me to cum. Who demands that I edge myself once per hour. I’m only two in, so far, and I’m already ready to explode.

This is what I get for being cocky last night. For that one little boastful text that I could handle anything he threw at me. I knew he’d pick up that challenge like a dog with a bone, and I knew today would be torture, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s easy to be cocky when I’m sitting at home alone, getting off with him over video call, when the endorphins are flowing, when I’m so close to the edge, and he wants to force me to wait, but he knows he can’t because I’ve got to get to bed so I can get up and come to this place in the morning. He couldn’t make me wait last night, but boy, is he getting his revenge for it now.

His rules are strict. I must check in, every time I edge myself, and report on the state of my body—how affected I am. How close I came to the edge. How close I came to moaning loudly in an office full of people.

I must answer his texts as soon as I possibly can. I must not, under any circumstances, leave him hanging for any longer than half an hour. I must send at least four naughty pics throughout the day, and they can’t be taken all at once. I must open any pics and videos he sends, no matter where I am, even at my desk.

And I must edge myself every hour and report back to him. If I don’t, I fail. If I fake it, I fail. And if I cum—and he’ll know—I fail.

LIBBY: 10am edging complete

I send the text and then toss the phone down on my desk, eyeing it warily, waiting for his response. I’m both anticipating it and dreading it at the same time. I’m addicted to him and the way he makes me feel, but I know that his response is just going to make things harder for me.

TYLER: Show me

I sigh as shock of pleasure courses through me at his command and pick up my phone, glancing around me to make sure no one is nearby.

LIBBY: Does this count as one of my four?

Shit. That sounded snarky. No way I’m getting away with this.

After a pause, the notification that he’s typing pops up.

TYLER: No. And for your attitude, you can add another two to your total needed.

I groan and close my eyes. Two more pictures?

I stand and slowly make my way to the bathroom, my body tingling with excitement. His punishments often fill me with dread, but I love how strict he is, to be honest. He knows I need a firm hand, and he gives it to me, digitally, at least. He doesn’t let me off the hook, and I know that, whatever the punishment, I’ll be rewarded in the best way for enduring it.

Taking two extra pics isn’t that bad, I reason. It just means sneaking in here, to the bathroom, a couple more times throughout the day.

I lock myself in a stall and pull my leggings and panties down and then take a seat on the toilet. He’d demanded I show him that I’d edged myself this hour, so I take a picture of my soaked panties and send it to him. I chew on my lip, rocking my hips even now as I wait for him to respond, excitement flowing through me. I’m not getting a lot of work done today.

“Oh fuck.” The moan escapes from my lips, unbidden, when he responds with a few second clip of him stroking himself in a bathroom at what I assume is his work. His cock is large, long and thick, and impossibly hard, with the slightest upward curve. It makes my mouth water and my pussy wet; the urge to make myself cum, especially after edging myself just a few minutes ago, is almost overwhelming. I only stop myself out of sheer determination.

LIBBY: is this supposed to be my reward or punishment?

It could be either, or both.

TYLER: Yes

I groan again and close the app for a moment. I need to breathe through this without seeing the repeated video of him stroking his throbbing cock. I need to calm myself down. Think unsexy thoughts. And when I have myself under control, I reopen the app and text him back.

LIBBY: Talk to you in an hour

It’s almost the end of the day. My work has suffered, but I’ve managed to obey every one of his commands. I finish the day in the bathroom once more, taking a picture of my glistening, needy pussy—my sixth and final pic—and sending it to him before gathering my things and heading out to the car.

There’s a text from him once I’ve settled.

TYLER: Very good, Little One.

LIBBY: Ha! See? I told you I could handle it, Sir

I smirk as I hit the send button, then look at my phone in confusion when I read his next text.

TYLER: Oh, you’re not quite done yet

LIBBY: What? But I’m done work! I’ve done everything you told me to do!

TYLER: Ah, but it’s top of the hour, and are you not still at work?

What? I stare at my phone for a long moment, my jaw open in surprise.

TYLER: Edge for me one more time, Libby.

Fuck. I can practically hear the commanding tone in his voice, though he rarely speaks to me directly when we play. My already wet pussy drips with need. I don’t think I can do this again without cumming. I’m too primed.

LIBBY: But sir...

TYLER: That’s Sir, and are you refusing?

Shit. My need for him has built so that I can think of nothing else but pleasing him and cumming. My own determination to win and prove that I can take anything he throws at me is barely a thought at this point, and that is exactly the way he wants it. He’s set me up to fail.

LIBBY: No, of course not. I’ll do it.

TYLER: I want to hear it

Oh God. Every command turns me on, more and more; my hips start rocking of their own accord in my seat, the friction already driving me higher. My phone rings a moment later, and I answer it immediately. He’s pulling out all the stops today, just to see me fail, but I can’t seem to find it in me to care at the moment.

“Hello?” My voice is already breathless as I grind my soaking pussy into the seat.

“Where are you?” He’s stern, no-nonsense. I love it when he’s strict with me. “In your car in the parking lot?”

“Yes,” I moan, closing my eyes as I start to grind harder.

“Is there anyone else around?”

“N-no.” God, I hope not. I can’t pry my eyes open right now. The pleasure is too great.

“Are your panties still off?”

I nod my head. My panties are long gone, taken off hours ago to serve as one of my naughty pics.

“Use your words, Little One.”

“Yes!” I gasp immediately, then grit my teeth as a wave of pleasure washes over me. Just hearing his voice is almost enough to make me cum.

“Mmm, that’s good. Now slip your hand inside your pants and rub that perfect little clit of yours.”

“Oh fuck.” The moment my fingers touch my clit, a shockwave courses through me, making my whole body shudder. I try my best to keep myself from cumming on the spot, but it’s already a losing battle.

“That’s it. Good girl. You’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”

I moan loudly at his words. He knows how much I love being praised, especially when he calls me his slut at the same time.

“Now slide three fingers into that beautiful pink pussy of yours. I know you can take them. Fuck yourself with them.”

I shift in my seat to tilt my entrance out a little bit. It’s awkward, doing this in my leggings. The tight fit has almost cut off the circulation in my forearm, but it’s worth it to feel this good. I let out a long, guttural groan as I slide three fingers inside, imagining it’s his cock instead. God, I wish he wasn’t two states away. I want nothing more than to be fucked good and hard right now, for real.

“Mmm, yes, that’s it, Libby. Fuck that pussy. Feel me pounding into you, hard and deep.”

I can hear his arousal now too; I’m pretty sure he’s stroking his cock and imagining the same thing that I am. That just brings me closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck. Please Sir. Please let me...” Let me what? Cum? Stop? I don’t even know anymore.

“You’re so fucking sexy, my Little One. And you’ve been so good for me today, haven’t you? You’ve obeyed my every command and made me so proud of you.”

His words are like honey with cinnamon, so smooth but with enough spice to kick me into overdrive. My moans are continuous now, my body coiling tighter and tighter, so close to snapping as I continue to thrust my fingers into my aching pussy. I should stop. I need to stop, but I just can’t make myself. I can’t even remember why I need to, now.

“My perfect Little One deserves to cum, doesn’t she? For being such a good little sub?” His voice grows raspy as his own need builds. I can picture him in his chair at his desk, pants undone, cock in hand as he strokes himself rapidly. He grunts down the line, his breathing growing more laboured. “You want to cum for me, Libby. You want to take what you fucking need.”

“Ah, fuck!” My fingers fly in and out of my pussy, the sound of the heel of my hand slapping against my slit over and over again driving me delirious with need. I can’t hold on any longer. This is it.

“I’m cumming!” I cry out, and my body shudders violently as my orgasm tears through me. All my senses dim as the electric rush of pleasure takes over my body, though I dimly register him on the other end, groaning out his orgasm too.

It takes several long moments to come back down to earth, but when I do, he’s waiting for me.

“Tsk tsk, Little One.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “Someone failed the challenge. And failing deserves punishment.”