Wrung Dry #MasturbationMonday #hitachi

Over the past several weeks, Daddy and I have stopped playing over the phone. I haven’t masturbated for him since before Thanksgiving. We both agreed it’s not as much fun because we’d rather be together. This weekend, I asked for something a bit different. I asked for the wand and his voice guiding me.

Two things are certain – the novelty of the wand hasn’t worn off, and I’m much more likely to be less tentative with the wand under his direction. I wanted to be wrung dry. I wanted the pleasurable pain that comes from forcing orgasms. I desperately wanted him, and if all I could get was his voice, I’d take it.

Daddy had spent the day immersed in the D/s culture – a munch, a Dom meeting, and a whip class. Sometimes I’m envious because I don’t have the same opportunities, but I know I’ll have my chance to be part of that world when we’re together. The side benefit to this immersion was that it was soon clear he felt his Dominance in a deeper way. His voice was different. Our conversation was different.

I went to bed later than I intended. Daddy commented he thought I’d forgotten him and would rather talk to my submissive friends instead of him. I love you all, but when I have a choice, I choose him. I prepared the area – two bottles of water and two thick towels – double-folded. I plugged in the wand and settled in to call him.

His voice was gruffer, deeper. My body responded. I cupped my mound with cold fingers, desperately wanting to touch myself but knowing I had to wait.

“Turn on the wand, babygirl.”

Oh, God, those words. From that point on, I stopped thinking and simply followed directions.

Low setting, pressed against my mound. Pressed against my inner thighs. My clit, oh God, my clit. Gushing and squirting, body writhing. No screaming, too loud. Squealed instead. Off my clit, back to my mound. Ohhhhhhh, feels so good. Legs wide. Wand rolling down my slit. Hissing as the wand grazed my clit again. Down to my asshole. Keep it there. Unf. Feels good. Body relaxing. Head thrown back. Squealing, grunting.

Rolling it up and down my slit. Skimming my clit. So close, soooooo close. Pressing into my mound. Pressed into my labia, below my clit. Pressed into my clit. Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Writhing, grunting, squealing. His satisfied laughter in my ear. Melting. Body convulsing. Cunt convulsing. Inner thighs, then mound. Mmmmm, feeling good. Up and down my slit, stop at my swollen clit. Shudders and jitters wrack my body. No more fluid left. Drained dry.

“Turn it off, babygirl.”

The wand, forgotten at my side. Panting and gasping. Pussy convulsing over and over again.

“Deep breath, baby, deep breath.”

I tried so hard. I tried so, so hard. My breath hitched and heaved, my body convulsed with aftershocks and leftover orgasms. Finally, I sucked in and gulped as deep a breath as possible.

I began to giggle as the endorphins hit. My face felt tingly. I felt silly. I drank my water and wiped the cum off my body. The poor towels were soaked, but the bed was spared. I put my soft, fuzzy pj bottoms and purple socks back on, snuggling under the covers.

“So Daddy, tell me all about your day today.” At least, I think that’s what I said. Hard to know after you’ve been wrung dry.