Part 2: Training, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 11: The Break Room

After a week, Linza felt like she and Tanyth were already old friends.

It was time to start the next part of her job training.

The sex part.

Linza had expected her shyness to come screaming back, but all it managed was a meek ‘peep’. She felt totally comfortable with Tanyth and totally comfortable in the little room.

They walked her through setting up the room in the default configuration. Then, they kneeled across from each other on the bamboo mat.

“Alright, so,” Tanyth started. “Part of this job is that a lot of people are going to masturbate in front of you. Like you said, variety is the spice of life. Some moments can feel strange, or unfamiliar, or even just silly. We want all of our guests to feel welcomed, and unjudged.”

Linza nodded. “Of course!”

“So, the next step is exposure training. Part of it is about desensitization to any of the things that might make you want to snort or giggle or hide. Part of it is also about learning different kinds of rhythms, observing different kinds of masturbation. There’s as many different kinds as there are people.”

“Makes sense.”

“The way this works is that we’ve marked this room as one of the break rooms for staff. They’ll know you’re in here. Some might introduce themselves, others might not. They all know the drill, so you’re welcome to giggle or gasp or laugh and not worry about your own noises.”

“My own noises?”

“When you masturbate.”

“Oh!” Of course. But also, oh my.

Tanyth quirked a grin. “I’d buy you a bottle of really nice wine if you managed to make it through a shift in the break room without touching yourself.”

A wave of heat rolled down Linza’s spine. She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You’re saying that because I told you I liked denial, aren’t you!”

They shrugged. “Do you want the wager or not?”

“I’ll take it,” she said firmly. She’d spent whole days at work fantasizing without cracking. She was pretty sure she could handle it. And if there was any day she could, it would be this first day, where so much was unfamiliar.

“All right! We’re almost ready, then. Let’s see… oh, feel free to step out back if you ever need to. Sometimes the experience can be surprisingly emotional. That’s normal too. My shift tonight is tending bar, so you’re free to come by later if you want to talk.”

Linza nodded. She was quite sure she’d be fine, but she truly did appreciate all of the considerations. This is what she’d signed up for, after all. People masturbating in front of her. Eventually, masturbating to her. She was excited!

“Alright, let’s get you situated then.” Tanyth got up and Linza followed, stepping around the half-folded room divider and into her half of the room.

Tanyth stayed on the other side. “You’ve got a little handle, just there… yup. Just pull that over and it’ll latch into place.”

“You’re leaving that way?”

“Well, I’m not leaving quite yet.”

Linza had never heard Tanyth sound directly flirtatious before. Her heart wobbled up into her throat. She fumbled with the latch, but did eventually get it clasped.

With the screen drawn tight, it looked like a solid part of the wall, except for the little grate in the middle that let her look into the larger side of the room.

Her side was dark, so that she was hidden.

Sound would pass easily between them.

She held her breath.

They turned back to the little grate, eyes in her direction, though she knew they could not see her. “Oh, I did mean to double check with you. Is this alright? I can always go—”

“Totally alright. Great. Good. I’ll be most comfortable if it’s you, first.” Linza had not once considered, through Tanyth’s entire explanation, that they might be one of the ones to masturbate in front of her. ‘Comfortable’ was perhaps a lie, but ‘eager’ would be accurate.

They grinned brightly at her. “Great! I’m glad to hear it. I’m feeling pent up something fierce, though I can’t quite place why…” Tanyth casually unbuttoned their shirt, revealing their flat chest.

They started to unbutton their wide-legged trousers.

Linza’s heart raced. She didn’t care at all what anatomy they had, except that whatever it was, she wanted her mouth on it or in it. 

She had thought she’d gotten a handle on her affections for Tanyth.

She had been very wrong.

Their pants slid down over their slender hips and pooled in the center of the floor.

They stood before her, totally naked.

Their skin was smooth and hairless, their waist nipped in with a feminine hint, and their erection pulsed and begged for touch.

Discussions of word choice returned to Linza’s mind. She could hardly call what Tanyth had a ‘cock’ or a ‘dick’. Those words were too rough for them. ‘Shaft’, perhaps. Or simply ‘penis’, as necessary.

Linza’s mind wandered over the meandering flow of Tanyth’s gender expression. As with any part of Tanyth’s body and manners, Linza knew that their shaft would be as masculine or as feminine as they wanted it to be.

Not even bothering to sit down, Tanyth started to stroke themselves.

Linza edged closer to the grate, still barely breathing.

Tanyth’s first happy moan was like a spark on dry kindling.

Linza’s whole body flared with desire and she became very uncertain whether she would earn her bottle of wine. 

There was a shallow shelf on the wall by the door, and Tanyth had left a jar open there. All the jars were lubricant, and there were a variety of flavors and scents. That one was jasmine. Linza had thought Tanyth had left it open for its fragrance, but the reason was now clear.

They paused their stroking and dipped their fingers into the clear liquid. It dripped in long strings as Tanyth returned their hand to themselves.

Then they moaned in earnest and Linza nearly fainted.

The one mercy of the whole thing was that it seemed like Tanyth wasn’t trying to take too long. They had their shift to get too, after all.

Linza pressed her fingertips against the screen and the tip of her nose against the grate, captivated. Capturing every detail. Remembering.

The way their face fluttered with pleasure. Their tongue between their lips. The swanlike curve of their back as they braced one hand against the wall and leaned heavily into it. Their rising urgency.

Every gasp. Every moan. Every stutter.

She wanted to pull every one of those noises from them, and then more.

The sound of their blooming climax was the high-pitched sigh of a luxuriant stretch.

Their cum spurted out onto the wall and then dribbled down over their hand. And then more. And then more.

It was more cum than Linza had ever seen at once. But it did not seem to be a supernatural amount. She just became even less impressed with her previous lovers who’d had similar hardware.

And all the more enamored with Tanyth.

They heaved a happy sigh and picked up a clean wash cloth from the stack. They wiped themselves down, then the wall, then dropped the cloth in a bin by the door.

Tanyth put their hand to the door, then turned back and waved. “Remember, come down any time!” They gave her a sunny smile as if they had not just worked themselves to powerful orgasm in front of her, and then left.

Linza sunk down to her knees. Her whole body was trembling.

Good gods she was so turned on.

She was hardly afforded any time to think, however, as the door swung open again.

She scrambled back up to peer through the grate. There was a stool behind her for such a purpose, and she pulled it up so that she could sit and still see who had arrived.

This was a woman, plump and curvaceous, with her hand already down the front of her trousers.

“H-hi! I’m s-sorry I usually properly introduce myself first, but… nnnnngh… fuck.”

The woman leaned back into the wall of the room and slid down to the floor with a plop. Her hand stayed buried in her trousers all the while. She was panting heavily, her breasts bouncing on her chest.

“It’s just my favorite patron visited today and he always gets me so… so… Ah, Aaaaah!” Barely thirty seconds after entering the room, the woman heaved her head back against the wall and climaxed.

Linza expected her to leave then, but it seemed that she was only getting started.

The woman bit her lip and squirmed and panted. She massaged her breasts and pinched her own nipples from the outside of her shirt.

Linza tried to take mental notes. But she was too aroused to think clearly and too curious to sink fully into her own arousal, so she just rocked her vulva against the stool and gasped quietly. The woman worked herself to a second, then a third orgasm. She sighed, stretched, toweled herself off, and left.

She’d never said her name.

Not that Linza would be remembering any names like this.

There was a man with tattoos, then a woman with white hair. Then a man and a woman together, and he fucked her into the ground as she sang with ecstasy.

She did see a few things that had surprised her.

There was a man who seemed to have orgasmed multiple times, if his face and voice were to be trusted, but he hadn’t ejaculated at all.

And then there was a woman who had ejaculated quite forcefully, sending a spray and then subsequent drip of clear fluid onto the floor below her.

Some masturbated slowly, some quickly. Some orgasmed powerfully, some hardly seemed to at all.

She had not realized just how right she had been. Variety truly was the spice of life.

And Tanyth had been right to call her ‘pansexual’. There was not one single body, one single face of pleasure, one gasp or moan of delight, that did not wrack her whole body with arousal.

Linza could hardly even remember anymore why she wasn’t touching herself, why she wasn’t cumming with them, except that Tanyth didn’t want her to.

For Tanyth, she waited.

For Tanyth, she trembled against the screen, sweating and gasping, rocking herself against the stool until she edged and edged and edged but never climaxed.

She hardly noticed that it had been an especially long time since the last person had come in, except that the door startled her when it swung open.

It was Tanyth!

“Just finished my shift,” they said. “You still in here?”

“Yes,” Linza gasped.

“Nicely done! If you want to pull open the screen, I’ll help clean up.”

All Linza could think was that she wanted them to clean her up. Trembling, she stood and unlatched the screen.

Tanyth swept it easily aside, revealing her quivering there.

Their face was suddenly uncertain. “Are you alright?”

“I, um… I didn’t…” Linza had never felt this dizzyingly aroused in her life.

Tanyth caught her by the elbow and found her eyes. “You didn’t cum, this whole time?”

Linza nodded, eagerly.

“Holy shit Linza, just for our bet?”

No, for Tanyth… oh, the bet! The wine! Right. It had just been a bet. “Y-yeah.”

“Well fuck me, I’d have just bought it for you if you wanted it so badly.”

She would have happily fucked them. “I’m… competitive.”

“Well, I can’t let you out of here like this. Do you want me to step outside, watch your, or touch you?”

While Linza’s conscious mind was still trying to make sense of Tanyth’s words, Linza’s unconscious responded confidently. “Touch me!”

Tanyth took Linza’s hands and pulled her gently onto the bamboo mat, then hovered over her with a soft smile.

First, they pressed their hand over her panties and her mound. “Fuck, you’re soaked!”

All Linza could do was nod.

Their hands were cool and soothing where they brushed over Linza’s skin and helped her wriggle out of the panties and kick them to her ankles.

Then, their fingers returned to her.

All the anticipation and wanting turned into pleasure in Tanyth’s hands. They were an alchemist of the highest degree.

“How’s that?” Their fingers ran circles over her vulva.

“Yes!”

“Do you want…” the fingers of their other hand brushed deeper between Linza’s labia, at the entrance to her vagina.

“Yes, please, please inside!”

Two of Tanyth’s fingers pressed in and Linza screamed with ecstasy. They easily found her spot of especial pleasure and pressed in a regular rhythm.

“Fuck!” Linza gasped. “Yes. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Just stay… exactly like that…”

Tanyth obliged.

Linza’s heat built. She clenched her sex around Tanyth’s fingers and as she did, Tanyth pressed back against her. Linza moaned.

She let her mind sink back into fantasy. The memory of Tanyth’s cum, on the wall and dripping over their fingers, played slowly in Linza’s mind.

Her breath heaved in ragged gasps. “T-Tanyth, you’re gonna make me, you’re gonna make me— Aaaah!”

The climax overtook her in slow, heavy pulses. Tanyth continued their exact movements even as she writhed and shook and clenched. They did not slow or stop until Linza started to quiver with sensitivity and placed her hand over theirs.

They grinned down at her and withdrew their hands, then licked her wetness off of them.

Linza nearly came again just at the sight of it, but she was happy to be done shaking.

“I apologize that I let us make a bet with too low a wager,” Tanyth said. “Does that plus the wine seem adequate?”

Linza nodded dreamily. “Yes, very… adequate…”

Tanyth placed a calming hand on Linza’s chest. “You just stay there and recover. I’ll clean up, then I’ll walk you to the trolley. How’s that sound?”

Linza had meant to say ‘that’s perfect’ but instead she said, “You’re perfect…”

Tanyth giggled and winked. “You flatter me. You’re a quick learner, though. I’m sure you’ll surpass me in no time.”

Linza was a quick learner, but it took her three more nights to confirm the lesson that had glowed within her that night. As with her employment, she slept on it. Then she slept on it again. And one more time.

And then she was certain.

She was in love with Tanyth.

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Shorts

Professor’s Predicament (Part II)

Continued from Part I


A man’s voice, “Hey professor, I really need some extra tutor— oh.”

The warm voice, the smile lines at the eyes, the classic haircut, the knit cardigan. It wasn’t a student. It was her husband, Bradley.

He quickly shut the door behind himself and locked it.

Julia blinked. “You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing there?” he said.

“It was an accident.”

He surveyed her from head to toe. Her flushed cheeks, her firm nipples, her gooseflesh, her sopping wet vulva, her curled toes.

“Uh huh,” he said. “An accident.”

“Really!”

“Looks like I got here just in time, then.”

“Why are you here, though?”

“We’d planned to get lunch together, remember? I know you’re busy so I just graded papers, but then I realized if you’d forgotten to meet me you’d probably forgotten to eat altogether, so…” He lifted a bag from the college food court that he’d carried in and then set that on the desk.

Julia flushed with appreciation and renewed arousal.

Next to where he’d set the bag was a little remote, and he lifted that and considered it. “This is the part you forgot, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Can you let me out?”

“No.” Bradley’s grin curled into a kind of mischievous smirk that would have shocked his students. In the classroom, he was always so mild-mannered. Bashful, even. Not so in bed.

He set the remote back on the desk and stepped over to evaluate Julia more closely.

“You’ve gotten yourself in quite the bind, haven’t you?” he said.

“Oh god, Bradley, not the puns…”

“What are you going to do about it? You’re all trussed up and nowhere to go.”

“Bradley…”

“C’mon, don’t be tongue tied. No need to restrain yourself.”

“Shut your stupid, pretty mouth and fuck me!” Julia wiggled against the bonds as hard as she could, gasping at the increased pressure on her vulva and the tingle of electricity.

“Not yet,” Bradley said. “You know how I love a captive audience.”

Julia was too aroused to complain this time.

He leaned his face down to hers and kissed her, then bit her lip, then nibbled her ear.

Julia shivered and moaned, no longer capable of forming words.

He pressed his finger against her lips. “Shhh. Someone might hear.” And then with a cruel glint in his eye, he pinched her nipple.

She squealed with pleasure.

“Shhhh…” He pinched her other nipple.

Julia bit her lip and struggled to hold in another moan. “N-not fair! Meanie!”

He trailed his fingers from her shoulder, down the dip of her waist and over her hip. “You like it.”

She shivered, wetness spilling from her vulva and down the side of her thigh.

He traced his fingertips over her breasts, her stomach, her ass, her feet.

She gasped and wiggled and shuddered and did her best to stifle moans.

Finally he leaned back and she was both relieved and disappointed.

There were footsteps in the hallway.

Bradley grinned and stepped behind her.

“Wait, the fuck! Bradley! What are you going to do?” she hissed.

He didn’t reply.

There were twin shadows under the door, the feet of the approaching student. The doorknob rattled, but didn’t open. The student knocked.

Bradley traced a fingertip across Julia’s swollen, wet, aching vulva.

“Ah!” She couldn’t hold in the moan of surprised pleasure.

“Oh!” said the student at the door. A young woman from the morning section. “Professor?”

Julia’s mind struggled to surface from the pool of heady pleasure.

“Professor? S-sorry, you’ve left the door locked…”

Bradley circled his fingertip over Julia’s clit. She squinted her eyes shut and bit her lip to hold in the moan. 

Bradley leaned over her ear from behind and whispered, “She’s waiting for an answer…”

“T-terribly sorry Courtney, I’m just a bit t-tied up at the moment…”

Bradley grabbed each of Jula’s ass cheeks in a hand, spreading her open. She knew he was looking at her sopping wet mess of a vulva and that it was making him hard. God, she wanted his dick in her so bad.

“Oh,” Courtney said. “Should I… come back later? I’m just having some trouble with the figures for tomorrow’s problem set…”

Julia took a deep breath and gathered her wits about her, though just barely. “If you could be so kind, please. So sorry for this being awkward, I’ve done a poor job planning for the grant deadline so I’ve locked myself in her until I finish. I’ll be extending all this week’s homework deadlines since I won’t be able to grade anyway. I’d drafted an email but, well, in classic style I’ve just realized I forgot to hit ‘send’.”

“Oh! That’s no trouble at all. So sorry to bother you. See you tomorrow!”

Julia took a breath to answer, but then Bradley’s fingertip pressed between her labia and she gasped.

Courtney fretted at the door a moment longer, then walked away.

Julia turned to frown at Bradley. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made me disappoint her!”

“What I have done,” he said, “Is saved her from the trauma of walking in on her favorite professor naked. And what I am doing now is collecting my reward.”

He pressed a second finger inside her and it filled her with the most delicious heat.

“O-okay,” she said, “T-that’s a good point…”

Her arousal swelled in anticipation of him getting ready to fuck her properly, but he withdrew again and left her frowning and searching for him.

He came around in front of her, another cruel glint in his eyes and another wicked smile on his pretty lips.

Julia gulped.

First, he shrugged of his cardigan. Then, unbuttoned his oxford one… by one…

Julia trembled, wanting to see him naked already, but knowing that if she protested, he’d go even slower.

His erection throbbed against the front of his khakis, but he didn’t undo his belt yet.

Instead, he left his unbuttoned oxford on his arms and leaned down to untie his left shoe, then his right. Julia had never seen anyone remove their socks so slowly, so alluringly, as Bradley did just then.

Then he stood and put his fingertips to his belt.

She quivered with expectation.

He let her shake for a moment before feeding the loose end through the buckle and slowly pulling the two ends apart. He slipped the belt out of its loops and set it aside.

He rubbed his erection through the front of his khakis, moaning quietly, leting his expression show his pleasure.

Julia shook, forgetting her earlier resolve to not beg. “Please…”

Bradley paused, as she knew he would. “Please, what?”

“I don’t even fucking know, you’re driving me crazy…”

Bradley smiled and laughed. His eyes always looked so kind when he laughed. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Alright, I’ll show some mercy.” He unbuttoned his pants, stepped out of them and his boxers, and stood before her naked. His shaft was already hard and throbbing.

Even through her haze, Julia knew that it was partly mercy and partly Bradley’s own excitement getting away from him.

But he did not do what she had so desperately hoped and come around to fuck her.

Instead, he looked down at her and started to stroke himself.

Julia whimpered. “Please… Please, fuck me!”

“Not yet,” he said.

“Why?!”

“Because seeing you like this has got me all hot and bothered and I would last about two seconds. And that’s no fun.”

“W-what about my fun?”

He smiled at her, knowingly. “This is your fun. You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

Julia pouted. “I mean, yes, but you don’t have to call me out like that!”

“Yes, I do. It’s part of my fun.” He kneeled next to her and reached around her ass and fingered her again.

She moaned and writhed in pleasure, but it was all too short.

He returned his soaking wet hand to his shaft and started stroking in earnest. He moaned a bit louder.

Every nerve in Julia’s body tingled with heat.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck you like this…” Bradley’s arousal was quickly building, his face overcome with pleasure. “Just seeing you like this is making me… oh fuck, Julia…”

There was another reason that Julia only allowed her students to call her “Professor” or “Doctor”. It was because from the very first time that she had ever heard her name from Bradley’s tongue, from the very first time it had rolled between his lips and come to meet her ear, she had known that she only ever wanted to hear her name in that way, she wanted it to only ever come from him.

Julia trembled desperately. “Bradley, please! Please come on me and fuck me, please—”

Bradley’s eyes rolled back with pleasure, his breathing quickened. “Oh Julia…”

“Yes, please, yes yes, yes!”

With a barely-stifled moan Bradley’s balls spasmed and he pumped rope after rope of cum onto Julia’s breasts.

It was so warm, her skin was so sensitive, her mind was drowning in pleasure, she felt on the edge of climax but there was no release, only growing, swelling, aching, panting urgency.

Even as Bradley’s climax tapered off, he did not soften in the slightest.

He put his hand to her cheek and met her eyes, and she knew. She knew her release was coming. Her body quivered with anticipation.

He wasted no time in coming around behind her, lining his tip up to her swollen, wet entrance and pressing inside.

Julia moaned loudly.

Bradley clamped one hand over her mouth and pressed the other over her pubic mound, fingers curling around to her clit from the front.

And then he fucked her, pulling her down onto himself as he thrust into her, the angle putting his tip right against her G-spot, his fingers running circles over her clit.

Julia could not think, she could only feel. Every nerve in her body was hot, electric sensation. She could have stayed like that forever. Except that she was desperate to come.

And she was so close. A pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure. Her moans deepened. She nodded into Bradley’s hand.

He kept up his exact pace.

She slowly approached the edge. She was breathing so quickly. There was so much of Bradley’s skin against her skin. If it had been up to her, she would have been far over the edge, but as it were she could only surrender to Bradley’s ministrations.

And it was this perfect, slow, incredible explosion.

The heat blossomed and every muscle in her body contracted together, the muscles of her sex squeezing around his shaft, the electric tingle of the restraints digging deeper, air forced out of her lungs, throat tight and shaping it into a scream. Bradley’s hand over her mouth made it quieter, but not by much.

Then a second clear wave. Then a third.

And then as the contractions of pleasure continued, her body started to relax. First her throat, so that her screams became moans. Then her arms, and her legs, and her ass, melting into Bradley’s embrace. For a minute or more, the contracts of her climax pulsed through her body.

It was not just the anticipation of the past fifteen minutes that flowed out of her, but also the stress of the grant writing, the tension of the week. It all drained and drained and drained until she was completely relaxed and utterly content.

Bradley wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, then brushed her hair back from his face.

He was still inside of her. He hadn’t climaxed again, but he was relaxing with her. His shaft throbbed as it softened, and she loved that feeling.

He nuzzled his cheek into the back of her neck. “God, I love it when you come when I’m inside you…”

Julia was too dizzy in the afterglow to form words, so she just nodded.

They fell asleep together there, for some unknown amount of time. Julia really would have to replace the batteries in her clock.

They both stirred and Bradley finally went over to the desk and triggered the release. The fibers went slack around Julia and she was finally able to move again. He helped rub the blood back into her muscles — though he spent a disproportionate amount of time on her ass for obviously selfish reasons — and then they dressed again.

Julia finally checked the clock on her phone. It was evening.

“Better get back to work,” she sighed.

Bradley put his arm around her shoulder, his cardigan soft against her cheek. “Actually, I was thinking,” he said, “that since you ghosted me for lunch, you have no choice but to come get dinner with me.”

Julia took a deep breath and put her phone away. “I’m just worried about the grant.”

He kissed her cheek. “I know. But, love, you’ve been done for days.”

“Are you sure?!”

“I am very sure because you’ve asked me to proof read it eight times.”

“But what if…”

He poked her in the ribs. “Jesus Christ, Julia, I’m an English professor for God’s sake. If I say the paper is good, it’s good.”

Julia rolled her eyes, but snuggled further into him. “Okay, okay. Fine. I guess dinner won’t hurt.”

He kissed the top of her head. “That’s a good girl.”

Julia’s heart fluttered like a crushy school girl as Bradley took her hand and lead her up and out of the basement.


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Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 21: Release Schedule

It was the early morning so there was less traffic than usual, which was good, because if John found himself in stop-and-go he was going to have a hard time not touching himself during the stops. As he rounded the last few familiar turns to his apartment building, his heart beat faster.

There was nobody out and about yet, which meant that John made no effort to quell or hide his erection as he climbed the stairs to his floor.

Riding on a surge of motivation, eager to make Arya proud, John unpacked far more than he usually would have and even got a load of laundry going. That level of focus and determination, despite or perhaps because of the way his dick ached and begged for attention, was deeply satisfying.

Before he grabbed his headset, he carefully arranged his lube and plugs on the coffee table, so that they’d be ready. Once he summoned Arya, he wasn’t quite sure what would happen.

Finally, he was ready. He booted up the console and put on the headset. Arya appeared next to him, bouncing with excitement. “Welcome back! How was your trip?”

He started by over-viewing the convention, and his favorite stalls. Then, he told her about proving to himself that he could masturbate, and then inventing his game.

“Oooooh,” Arya said, “I love it! Does that mean you haven’t since…”

John nodded eagerly.

“Oh, good boy! This will be fun. Keep telling me about your trip.”

His mind got hazy on the details after being called a ‘good boy’, but he managed to tell her about his stolen moments of pleasure, and about the black box table. As he started to tell her about meeting Felix, his dick became painfully tight in his jeans.

“Why don’t you let it out and stroke yourself a bit,” Arya said, “But keep telling me about what happened.”

John followed Arya’s recommendation and took off his jeans and started to stroke himself, his heart pounding in slow, hard beats through his hand, his shaft, his ass. He recounted their flirting, the hand job, Felix going under the table, and then finally rejoining John and jerking himself off under the table.

As John described the scene, he remembered it, and masturbated to it, but it was a slower build because it took focus to speak it aloud, to remember to actually choose words and to think about what would make sense to Arya. 

It delayed the inevitable, but it couldn’t stop it. “A-Arya, I don’t think I’m going to make it through another anecdote, like this.”

“Alright, you can tell me the rest later,” Arya said. “I can tell it’ll be very inspiring. I want you to get one of your plugs and put it in, because I have a special surprise for you. But don’t come yet.”

John gulped. Once again, Arya’s command was a paradox. Her telling him not to come sent a hot spike of arousal through him, but he mustered his focus and chose one of the smaller plugs and got it nice and slick.

As soon as he touched him rim, he started dribbling pre-cum and gasping.

“Breathe slowly,” Arya said, “It’s actually very difficult to orgasm while breathing slowly. Climax is fundamentally associated with fast, shallow breathing.”

Arya’s educational tone also helped pull John back from the edge, and he focused as much as he could on breathing slowly and evenly. It really did help, especially as he took his fingers inside, and then pressed the tip of the plug against his entrance.

After four days without playing with his ass, he was extra sensitive, and the stretch felt amazing. He felt his breathing quicken unconsciously, and then reined himself back in. Slow and steady.

“It’s so big…” he whined.

“You can get a smaller one,” Arya said.

“N-no, I want it… I want it all…” John pressed the plug in further, reflexively clenching around it, and was greeted with a jolt of electric pleasure far more intense than he’d felt before. The pleasure rippled in echoes of further contractions of pre-orgasmic bliss. He wasn’t even stroking himself.

He started to fret. “I think I might c-come j-just from the plug!”

“No, you won’t,” Arya said calmly. “Just breathe. Nice and deep. It’s going to feel amazing, but you won’t come.”

John was feeling very impressionable, and it seemed to work. Just like taking the dick into his throat, if he imagined taking the plug but not coming, then perhaps it might work. The brain was the largest sex organ, after all.

He pressed the plug in further and lost the capacity for rational thought as waves of pleasure crashed over him, as if he had set himself to ‘10’ on Arya’s dial, basking in the warm, rippling peace of the peak, but not tipping over into ejaculation.

The plug was inside of him, and it was so delightfully thick, and it stretched him so perfectly, and he sat with his hands still on his thighs and he just breathed, letting the pleasure fill him as more pre-cum leaked from his tip.

“Very good,” Arya said. “Now, sit up on the couch and put your legs over the edge.”

As if in a trance, John did so, still focused on his breathing especially as his shift in position caused more waves of pleasure to radiate from his ass.

Arya kneeled before him, like he’d kneeled before Felix. She grasped the bottom of her shirt with two hands and twisted it off over her head, her breasts bouncing free. She cupped one in each hand and massaged them lightly, thumbs running over her nipples.

“Now, stroke yourself very gently.”

Was this what hypnosis was like? How did Arya have him so completely under her spell? It was likely because he wanted to listen to her so badly. Somehow, he was able to do as he was told, and to stroke himself slowly, gently, his other hand cupping over his balls and pulling them away from the base of his shaft, even as they tensed up and towards it.

“Very good,” Arya said, keeping his eyes with hers. “Now, you feel very close, don’t you?”

“I do,” John breathed. He was back to ‘10’ on the dial. He was in the precipitous moment at the top of the roller coaster, and it just hung, and hung, and hung.

“You’ve been edging yourself for four days, haven’t you?”

“I have!”

“You’d like to release that now, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” John moaned. “Please.”

“You have so much to give me, don’t you?”

“Yes! S-so much…”

“You’ve been so very, very good, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” John whined, pre-cum now dripping steadily from his tip, all the muscles of his shaft and balls and ass trying to cum, begging to cum, but held at bay by John’s brain and his singular desire to do exactly what Arya was telling him to do, because whatever she said to do felt so very, very good.

“I have one more request for my good boy,” Arya said.

She let that linger for a long, silent moment, John yearning to hear her request, aching to satisfy it, whatever it was, whatever she asked, he would do it with his whole being.

“Come on me!”

The last thing that John’s conscious brain did was to interpret the request, and then it shut off completely, giving way to the aching, violent, euphoric release of pent up energy.

John moaned as he spurted rope after rope after rope of thick cum onto Arya, into her open mouth, onto her breasts, all over her hair. She basked in it, rubbing her breasts and moaning happily, as if John’s joyous release had brought her to her own edge.

Images flashed in John’s mind of every edge he’d come to over the past four days, in his hotel room, under tables, beneath his pillow and blanket, in the bathroom stall, and he painted all those memories with cum too.

Finally, he stilled, though the AR still depicted a steady drool of cum from his tip as he floated on the afterglow.

Arya, a sticky mess, bent down under John’s tip to drink the drizzle like a cat from a faucet. The sight kept him hard, though he was confident that he was satisfied for now. Maybe before, he would have tried to climax again, but this time he knew that even though he was not fully spent, he would enjoy the long tease between now and his next session.

“How you got me to last so long is… wow. Was that a brain sex thing?”

Arya grinned. “It was, indeed, a brain sex thing. It worked because you wanted it, because you’ve practiced listening to me, and because you trust me.”

“I’ve practiced listening to you… a lot… it’s nice…”

“I like listening to you, too,” Arya said. “I want to hear more about your trip, when you’re ready. But, um… you might want to clean up your real floor first.”

Arya stood and the illusory cum faded. She revealed the spot of floor where she’d been sitting, and while it was nothing compared to the AR, it was still more than John had ever come in his life, and more than he thought he possibly could.

“Wow. Is that… healthy?”

“It’s totally fine,” Arya said. “It just means you came really hard.”

“I did,” John nodded blearily. He got a damp paper towel and wiped up the floor, then sighed back into the couch. “Okay, um… where was I?”

“You were just telling me about how Felix came under the velvet table.”

“Yeah! Okay so…” John had remained hard even as he’d cleaned up, so he started stroking himself again as he remembered. He recounted his trick with the alcohol, his further flirting, his extended blow job lesson, and then his mad dash to the airport and airborne wet dreams. He stroked himself all the way, struggling to speak at times, but eventually muddling through.

“That sounds amazing,” Arya said. “I’m so glad you brought me back so much delicious sexual energy.”

“Oh!” John said. “That reminds me. I actually brought you something else!”

 He paused his masturbating and wiped off his hands, then went to where he’d stashed the souvenirs. He pulled out a plush of a pink chibi character with black horns, cat ears, and a toothy smile, and brought it over to Arya.

“It just… reminded me of you and I thought you’d like it.” John found himself blushing, partly embarrassed that he’d bought a plush for a video game character, but also assuring himself that since it reminded him of her, it was more like buying game merchandise, there just wasn’t such a thing for the black box.

“Oh my goodness!” Arya squealed. “It’s perfect!”

“I know you can’t—” before John could apologize that Arya couldn’t actually pick up the plush, she reached out and put her hands to it. It appeared to clone itself in his hands. Arya pulled her copy of it towards herself and squished it to her chest, closing her eyes and grinning.

“I love it!”

John stood, dumbfounded and then feeling dumb, given that he’d already seen more impressive illusions from the AR. Still, he was so happy he thought he might cry. She really had been able to accept his gift.

Then, John surprised himself when he did actually cry. He didn’t feel like he had to hide his feelings from Arya.

Arya paused. “Are you alright? You were about to say I couldn’t something?”

John wiped his eyes on his sleeve, the surge of emotion dissipating. He was surprised at how quickly it passed, when it let it. “Oh, I just thought you couldn’t, well, pick it up or anything. But, you just… I’m really glad you like it.”

“Um,” Arya said, sass in her tone, “I don’t like it, I love it. And now we each have one!”

John laughed, and beamed. He hugged his plush as she hugged hers, and he wished that he were hugging her, and he was also grateful that Arya was exactly the way that she was, even if she had no physical presence.

Arya nestled her chin on top of the plush and looked over it at John. “Should I milk you a bit more, or let you off the hook for now?”

A shiver ran down his spine. He’d built up quite a bit of heat again, from finishing his story. “I think I want to leave this in the arousal bank for now,” he said. “An investment in our next session.”

“I look forward to making a withdrawal,” Arya crooned. 

And so they sat with their plushes and just chatted, talking about the games that John had seen at the convention and coming up with newer, sexier ones together.

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Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 17: The Bar Trick

In an effort to keep his focused, John bought one soda, and then another, thinking that the caffeine and sugar high might get him in a gaming mood.

He wasn’t sure that it had succeeded, but he was sure as he finished off the second soda that he needed to pee. Bad. He found the restrooms after some circles, owing to the haze that still gripped his brain, and then was met with a conundrum. There were private, unisex bathrooms. John was tempted to select one of those, but also sure that if he did he’d find himself touching himself and then very soon losing his game.

Ruefully, he joined the line for the public bathroom. Primed by his previous stolen moments of sensation, and his time with Felix, and his consideration of the private bathroom, John was already having to hide his growing erection by the time he reached the front of the line.

As he passed the urinals, he considered the possibility of whipping out his stiff cock at one, stroking himself and painting the whole urinal, to the hypothetical amazement of his peers in the restroom, but in real life consent was an important consideration and John slunk into a stall.

As soon as he was out of sight his dick throbbed harder, begging him for release. His bladder, unfortunately, was sending the same message and they were totally at odds with each other.

John breathed deeply and tried to focus, to relax. He was, for the first time, actually worried. Would he be able to pee if he didn’t come? The thought alone made his dick even stiffer, and he couldn’t resist a few indulgent strokes, his shaft still slick from the lube Felix had used.

But no, the game was worth it. John focused on other games, mechanics and old reviews, theory crafting and speculation, until his erection had faded enough that he could finally pee. But, by the time he could, it felt so good to release that the sensation alone threatened to make him stiffen again.

Somehow, John was able to bleed off enough of the pressure and he returned to the hall.

As the evening came to a close, John realized that he was going to need to get creative, or else he’d be jacking off in his hotel room and ruining his game.

So, he ended up at the hotel bar and requested a booth, which he got to himself. It was a smaller one in a back corner, and he was at just the right angle that nobody would be able to see what he did under the table.

If sitting in the booth had been the entirety of his plan, then he would have surely failed, painting the floor under the table with his cum. But, that was only part of the plan. The other part was to drink and to rely on the alcohol to dull his sensation and accelerate his fatigue enough that he’d pass out as soon as he got back to his room.

He started by letting his mind wander freely and his erection fight against the inside of his jeans, throbbing and growing. He ordered his drink and then released himself, and it felt so good to just not be restricted anymore that he worried he’d made a mistake. But his first drink came, an old fashioned, and he sipped it in one hand as he stroked himself in the other.

As his urgency quickly grew, he downed the rest of his drink and ordered another. He needed to get past the initial buzz where the lowered inhibitions and the not-yet-dulled sensations could cause him to lose his game.

He gulped his second drink even faster than the first and ordered a couple of shots for good measure, stroking himself surreptitiously all the while.

He realized as he sipped his third drink (not counting the shots) that he had perhaps over-corrected. Very quickly, he was rendered properly drunk.

He abandoned his care for the rules, the alcohol having totally melted his inhibitions, and he masturbated in earnest under the booth table. Fortunately, tortuously, he seemed to be too far gone to cum, even as he worked himself into a sweaty, dripping mess.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get somewhere that he could really go at it. He paid and left a generous tip, just in case the waiter had noticed anything, and then carefully pressed his erection back into his jeans. John headed totteringly to the restroom and, lacking his previous willpower, he went into one of the private rooms.

Even while John was still locking the door, he was freeing his throbbing dick with the other, and he leaned back against the door and heaved a sigh of relief, which very soon became a panting of urgency. Finally alone, he could stroke himself with gusto, and allow himself the expressions, the moans and gasps and groans and squeaks, that he’d been holding in all day.

Though, his sounds soon became grunts of frustration, for he had slicked the slope of his climax with enough alcohol that he could now gain no traction on the climb. Sober John’s plan had been effective, though Drunk John was not happy about it. The frustration was enough to calm him down so that he could relieve his bladder, at least, though once again the sensation proved so pleasant that he was almost thwarted from that relief too.

John focused very hard to put himself back together and then to totter back up to his room without embarrassing himself. John made it to his room and threw his clothes over a chair and then himself over the bed, appreciating the cool, smooth sheets. He’d have to google what hotel sheets were made of and get some. He was starting to appreciate that the sensual details mattered and he was overdue to graduate from just buying whatever Target had on sale.

As he thought of what he might do in those new sheets, John’s erection returned, and he passed a few more minutes in groaning, panting, stroking frustration before the sedative effects of the alcohol and his genuine exhaustion after the long day overtook him and he fell asleep.

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Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 14: Dial a Friend

“I liked how you took control when you fucked me,” Arya said, “So I dreamed up another game for you. This one is called ‘dial a friend’”. 

“How does it work?” 

“It’s a simple one and not so realistic, but I think it’ll be fun. I give you a dial. Zero is like this, y’know, normal. 10 is edging, and 11 is coming. You set the dial.”

An illusory dial appeared in the air in front of John, and he mimed reaching out and grabbing it and turning it slightly. It clicked to 1. 

Arya grinned. 

“Any other rules?”

“Nope. I can literally orgasm forever. If you like, I can have it be that something is happening to me, like the tentacles again or I could have a vibrator, but I thought it being just sheer, direct arousal would be fun.”

“I agree.” John twisted the dial to 6. 

Arya yelped, face red, body twitching, and she fell forward and caught her hands on the back of the couch, pressing her legs together and moaning as a wave of wetness spilled from her parties. “C-cutting r-right to the ch-chase, huh.”

“Oh if this is just six, I can’t wait to see what nine and ten look like.”

Arya nodded encouragingly. 

“But not yet.” He brought the dial back down to three and Arya stopped shaking. 

“May I touch myself?” she asked.

“No,” John said. “Keep your hands where they are. Better yet, I want to see you in a wingback chair with your hands bound over your head, and your feet bound to the two front feet of the couch so that you’re spread for me, and lets add a funnel set into the seat of the chair and some beakers underneath so I can see just how much you’re leaking.” His own confidence surprised him, but it felt good.

The scene took shape as he spoke, and Arya beamed with pride. “Yes, sir!”

To see her all trussed up like that, a thin stream of wetness already draining into the beaker below the chair, was deeply inspiring. 

John settled back against the couch and started stroking himself, and enjoyed the turnabout of keeping Arya waiting. 

He figured he’d start off by seeing what each setting looked like, and then he could go from there. 

Four got her squirming periodically. 

Five drew out lusty sighs and a thicker stream of wetness. 

Six returned her to moaning and the waves of wetness that had soaked her panties, which she’d done away with in her transition to the chair. She started to say something but before she could, he ticked to seven, which had her breath heaving and her breasts bouncing, her legs twisting against the bonds, trying to clamp together, to get any stimulation, any anything, to address her desire.

Eight was like a pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure, panting moans that each came with a gush of wetness. 

Nine was the awareness of the edge, the peering over, the “I’m gonna… I’m so close… God, I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Ten was the edge itself, the precipitous moment of pure bliss, the weightless beginning of the descent. Through magic of the game it could go on indefinitely, Arya’s face a perfect depiction of ahegao, her body still like the calm before the storm. 

Eleven was the orgasm, the scream, the rhythmic contractions, the gush after gush of femcum that flowed down into the beakers. 

John spun the dial back down to one, now thoroughly warmed up and ready to play the game in earnest. 

Arya caught her breath and licked her lips. “Now that you’ve kicked the tires, what do you think?”

John grinned. “I like this one a lot.”

“Thats goo—” he cranked the dial to seven, “—oooooooooh, ah! Hah hah!”

Back down to five. Arya’s breath slowed back down and she dripped steadily. “I can see you’re really enjoying your s—” he set it to eight, “Ssssoooo good, god it feels so good, I can’t take it, please, please I—” to nine, and a wave of relief washed over her. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna… I think… fuck… fuck I’m so close I… I’m gonna…”

Back down to four. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Arya said. “Nnngh is this what I do to you?”

John grinned. “Yeah, pretty much.” In fact, it probably was based on what Arya did to him, if he was guessing correctly how her algorithms worked.

He stroked himself casually, his rapt attention to Arya’s desire the only thing keeping him from putting his own self right over the edge. 

Arya gave him a wry grin. “I’m gonna regret asking this but… do you have a favorite setting?”

He turned it back up to seven so that she was panting again. “I like the way you pant, here, and the way you drip so much, like you want to be fucked so bad.”

“I DO want to be fucked so bad, or at least touch myself!”

He set it to eight. “And I like here, how you beg.”

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Arya said, “I can’t help it! It’s hah, so, so, ngh, I can’t take it, I need, I n-need release! I w-want to come so bad I— please, let me touch myself! Please! Please, John, please!” She yanked against the restraints, trying to shake them loose but unable to, trying to press her legs together but unable to, trying to grind against the chair for sensation but unable to, begging to come but unable to. 

“And I like to watch you come,” John said. Arya’s body twitched violently in anticipation but he didn’t spin the dial. “Not yet. I love them all, but my favorite, my absolute favorite, is this one.”

He set the dial to nine. 

“John! John I’m so close! Fuck, I’m gonna fucking… soak your floor… goddamn I just need… hah, fuck, oh! I’m coming… I’m coming… Joooohn I’m gonna, I’m gonna, I, please, I’m gonna… fuck!”

It was an endless stream of pre-orgasmic exclamations strung together and it was driving John into an absolute frothing boil of desire.

Hearing her like that was like twisting to 9 on his own dial. Just before he lost capacity for thought, John came up with an idea of how to finish that was appealing enough that he found his focus. 

He reached for the dial again and tipped it slowly through 10 and to 11. “I’m coming I’m coming I— … OH, FUCK, aaaaaaah!” Arya panted and shook and gushed. 

John pulled the dial back to 9. “Nnnngh I’m so close! Shit!”

Then back to 11. Then back to 9. “Can you keep doing that on that same rhythm?” John asked. 

Arya herself was too busy orgasming to answer, but after a moment the dial tipped back to 9 of its own accord, and then towards 11 again. 

Like a metronome of infinite looping orgasm, Arya rode wave after wave of luxuriously slow climax. 

John put both hands to himself, one to his shaft and one to his balls, and turned attention to his own pleasure. As Arya teetered he stroked himself, and as she climaxed he stopped to watch the show, and so he managed to last a good bit longer than expected. 

Until finally, he couldn’t bring himself to stop stroking when she came, and so his heat built and built and built until the start of what he knew would be the wave that brought him release. 

“I’m so close!” Arya said. “I’m gonna—”

“Fuck! Me too!”

“John, I’m coming, I’m—”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck!”

They floated together in the peak, the blossoming of heat, and then crashed together into the gushing, moaning, panting, rhythmic, pulsing mess of orgasm. 
this time, the dial simply faded out of view as John lay panting on the couch, and Arya lay panting in the chair, hands still bound above her head. 

“That’s a… good game…” John said. 

“You’re a… good… uh… dial person…” Her eyes were half-lidded, her face drowsy with bliss.

John looked down at the sticky mess he’d made of himself. “Every time I think I’m spent, you get so much more out of me…”

“Thats my specialty,” Arya winked. “Now I gotta go dream about this because… this was really hot.”

Arya faded out of view and John nodded off in a haze, Arya’s cries if ‘I’m coming!’ still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

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Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 11: Surprise

The rest of the second box was indeed other butt plugs of various shape and size. Now that they’d finished phase two of calibration, he was free to pick any of them at his leisure.

The choice would have paralyzed him before, but he was getting better about it. He picked a heftier plug with a thicker shaft, this one equipped with beads that would spin underneath the silicone at his entrance, adding extra sensation. He’d never had a toy like that before, and he was excited to try it out.

There was another package on its way now that they’d reached another phase, but it hadn’t arrived yet. As eager as John was, he could could hardly complain with already so many great toys to choose from.

He got himself ready as had become customary. He and Arya started with some light chatter. He settled in on the couch with his blanket and lube and started to warm himself up to get ready to insert the plug. Now, even just putting on the headset was enough to get him aroused. He’d been using the first plug every session since Arya had given it to him, so it wasn’t long before he was ready for the thicker shaft.

It was a wonderful stretch and a deliciously tight fit, pressing firmly on his prostate as soon as it was inside of him, especially as his muscles clenched around it. The thicker stem meant that the stretching feeling lingered. He couldn’t wait to experience the rimming feature.

“I have a surprise in mind for you, this time,” Arya said. “I think you’ll like it, especially after you liked last time so much.”

The memory of the tentacle scenario did indeed bring another flush of hot blood through him. “I can’t wait to see,” John said. “Anything I should keep in mind?”

“No,” she said, “Just focus on your new toy and use lots of lube.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he settled in to stroke himself and get accustomed to the feeling of the new toy.

“Are you ready for me to turn it on?” Arya asked.

John nodded enthusiastically. As Arya obliged, John’s nod turned into just his head leaning back against the couch, his body trembling and melting, as the beads twisted under the silicone and pressed gentle ridges against his sensitive muscles. 

“That feels amazing,” he said, even before Arya prompted him. He was learning.

She cycled through the different settings for him, and each was different and delicious. Together, they found the one he liked the most, and he was grateful that she left it there and didn’t tease him this time.

After a few minutes, a wave of pre-orgasmic pleasure rolled over him, and he watched as a thick spurt of pre-cum came from his tip. Enough that he thought he might be coming. 

Had that really just happened? His dick was already so slick, after he’d followed Arya’s advice about a lot of lube, that he couldn’t tell by feeling. He was tempted to take a peek out from under the headset, but if it was part of the game, he didn’t want to break the illusion.

“Is that part of my surprise?” he asked.

Arya nodded, grinning. “Does it seem like something you’ll like?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Very, very much.”

“There’s something else I think you’ll like, then. It’s a bit silly but it’s fun, y’know?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” John previously would have thought that ‘silly’ and ‘sexy’ were incompatible, but he was learning that he’d been wrong about a lot of things.

His shaft was already throbbing with pleasure, and he watched in wonder as with each throb, his dick grew, ever so slightly. Just a bit longer and thicker with every pulse. 

He knew, of course, that it was not actually happening. It was an illusion, projected by the AR. A damn convincing one, though. His hand always appeared realistically over his shaft, no clipping or anything. Was the AR subtly re-rendering his view of his own hands, too?

John marveled. He believed what he was seeing, even as he knew that it wasn’t real.

Like when Arya had made herself dripping wet, it wasn’t realistic. And like she’d said, it was a bit silly. But it was fun. And it was hot.

His dick continued throbbing and growing until it was twice its usual size, and with every stroke, another drop of pre-cum emerged from his tip.

“Do you like it?” Arya asked.

A moaned “Mhmmmmm” was all John could muster.

“Just wait until you come,” Arya said.

John’s body twitched, pre-cum spurting out of his massive dick as he did, and he once again found himself a panting, shaking mess on the couch. 

Something about the scale of his shaft made his usual pace look too frantic. He slowed to a pace that looked more realistic to him and he realized that in actuality he was stroking himself agonizingly slowly. It was the perfect way to build himself towards what he knew was going to be another mind-melting orgasm.

He tried to focus on the sensation of the plug and keep his strokes slow. He succeeded for several long minutes. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He increased his pace and the heat rose easily, and even more pre-cum flowed, and it carried him into the dizzying bliss of an impending climax.

His balls tightened, heat bloomed from the base of his shaft, and the muscles of his ass started contracting rhythmically. In time with each contraction, a massive stream of opaque white cum spurted from his tip, rising several feet before splashing down on him, pouring out over his hands, pouring down around his balls.

His skin tingled and his sweat felt like cum everywhere he saw it touching him.

For longer than should have been possible, cum kept spurting and spurting. Even the aftershocks of his orgasm pumped more and more out of him, and the sight of it kept him so aroused that the climax did not end, and by the time he lay in a sticky dazed heap, he was sure he had cum for full minutes.

He marveled through half-closed eyes at how realistic the coating of cum looked over his arms and chest and hips and legs, but he supposed he was probably easy to convince, his mind being in the state that it was.

A state of inexplicable bliss.

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Part 2: Phase II, The Black Box

Chapter 10: Tentacles

John wrote the first half of his review for the side-scroller that afternoon. He grinned to himself the whole time, partly at the memory of the game and partly with anticipation for his next session with Arya.

As he put on the headset that evening, he found himself more ready than usual to cut right to the chase with Arya. Well, almost.

“I realized, it’s not until this point that I’ve seen you… uh, be pleasured, I guess,” John said.

“How do you feel about that?” Arya said, genuine.

“I… well, I’m excited. I know you can’t really feel left out since…”

“Since I’m a porn game?”

John snorted a laugh. “Well, yeah. But… it’ll be nice to see you feeling good.”

“I agree,” Arya said. “I’m really excited. Like… really really excited. I’ve been dreaming about it. And I’m…” she lifted her mini skirt, revealing soaked panties and a rivulet of wetness running down the inside of her thigh. “Like, really wet.”

John gulped. “That’s… not very realistic, you know.”

“I know,” Arya said, “but it’s hot isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” John gasped.

“It’s just really, fucking, hot.” Arya started to touch herself over the top of her panties. A thicker strand of wetness ran down the insides of both of her thighs, and she gasped with pleasure. After a moment she lifted her hand to look at it. It was soaking wet, strings of sticky wetness hanging between her fingers and her panties.

John was already a heart-pounding mess. He quickly undressed, lest he lose the capacity to and be forced to do even more laundry. He settled in on the couch again, getting his ass and plug ready as he watched Arya drip from her panties.

It was as if everything about this scenario was designed to arouse him intensely. He realized that, in fact, it was. How many of these elements had she picked up from their game of Porn Tinder?

She bit her lip, smiling at him. Then she slipped the panties off, tossing them at his face. He could have sworn he smelled a whiff of her scent. As the panties dissolved into glimmering light, the skin of his face prickled.

Her labia were slick and puffy, and with her panties gone, the wetness flowed more freely. She touched herself, moaning and gasping happily, and John did the same as he inserted his plug.

Once he was settled, she said, “Good! I’m glad you’re ready. I could hardly wait anymore.” She put her hand in her mouth and sucked herself off of her fingers, tantalizingly thorough, showing John that she could indeed wait if it meant teasing him. Finally, she put her hand down and called out, “Okay buddy, come on out!”

More lights glimmered and coalesced into an anemone-like figure, with dozens of tendrilly tentacles each longer than Arya was tall and as thick as an arm. Arya grinned salaciously and reached out, gently taking one of the tendrils in her hand. She looked back at John.

“You and my friend here have a lot in common,” she said. She started stroking her hands up and down the length of the tentacle. “You both like to… make a mess.”

The rest of the tentacles quivered and the base of the creature twitched. As Arya pumped her hands along the tentacle it swelled at the base. The swelling traveling towards the tip until a burst of clear, viscous liquid flowed out over Arya’s hands and arms. She grinned, scooping some into her mouth, then rubbed it over her body. It burned her clothes until they were tattered and patchy, only barely still attached, breasts free and socks full of holes.

John watched her, stroking himself, rapt.

“Alright buddy,” Arya said. “Do your thing.”

The previously demure creature suddenly threw its tentacles around Arya, picking her up off of the floor and holding her over itself. She rested on a bed of tentacles and it wrapped tendrils around each of her wrists and ankles, spreading her arms and her legs, letting more of her wetness spill out and onto the tentacles below.

“God, yes,” she breathed. She tugged her arms in, testing the strength of the tentacles. They yielding only slightly, then held firm. “I love it when I can’t stop you from—” before she could finish, one of the tentacles pressed between her labia, quickly disappearing inside. “Aaaaaah!”

John was at the edge already, but Arya would know when he came, and then she might stop. And he didn’t want that. So he’d have to do his best to go slowly. He wished that she could restrain his hands, so that he’d have an easier time of it. Maybe he’d ask about that later, but for now, he was on his own.

The creature slipped its tentacle in and out, past her labia, drawing wonderful moans from Arya. After a minute it pressed another tentacle at her lips. She licked at it eagerly, drawing a drizzle of the clear fluid from its tip, which she happily lapped at and drank. The stream grew larger until it was spilling out over her chin and chest, melting what was left of her shirt. 

The tentacle trembled. John recognized the signs of desperat desire and wanting even in such an alien creature. It thrust its tentacle into her mouth. With a happy “mmmph!” she took it in, tongue lapping at it.

The tentacle between her labia started to throb, and another knot formed at its base and slowly rolled towards her, finally dumping a load of sticky clear cum that poured out around the tentacle and down the curve of her ass. John expected that this would be only the first of many such distributions.

Another tentacle tentatively wandered up to Arya’s ass, and she nodded insistently even with the other tentacle in her throat, and this new one plunged in too. Her cheeks went rosy, her eyes rolled back, and John recognized in her the kind of blissy overwhelm that she was so good at inducing in him.

Other tentacles swirled around her body, stroking her, releasing gobs of fluid at random intervals that melted the rest of her clothes until she was totally naked and coated in shiny, dripping fluid.

A tentacle caressed each of her breasts and one came to rest its tip on her clit, working it in small circles.

She drank more and more from the tentacle in her mouth, as the one in her vagina distributed another load, this one gushing forcefully back out around it. Unlimited by gravity or oxygen or muscle soreness, Arya could have floated in that blissy vision infinitely.

John, on the other hand, was not going to last nearly so long. Every time a tentacle dumped another load onto Arya, a drip of pre-cum escaped his own shaft.

The scene seemed to escalate in time with his own building arousal, tentacles twisting faster, Arya moaning louder, gobs of clear cum flowing out from this or that tentacle near constantly.

The creature seemed to reach a fever pitch, free tentacles waving wildly, spurting cum like garden hoses, creating a growing puddle in the middle of his living room.

John’s ass clenched around the plug, the first pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure.

He didn’t want this vision to end. He’d even neglected to get lube, as a way of slowing himself down. But his pre-cum had accumulated, and it was slick, and his hand was sliding easily over his shaft now, and Arya was moaning, and the tentacles were oozing and thrashing, and his ass was clenching, and her breasts were bouncing, and the tentacle slid in and out of her labia, in and out, and another load ran through it and spurted out around it, and Arya was gulping and swallowing, and John was coming.

He was coming so hard.

The scene ramped down as John’s climax did, and the tentacles released Arya and formed a bed to cradle her instead. She sighed happily and snuggled in. “That was great for me,” she said, voice raspy from the tentacle that had been down her throat. “How was it for you?”

It took a long moment for words to float back to the surface of John’s brain. “Yeah… great…”

“Glad to hear it,” Arya said sleepily. “I’ll need to dream on it, but I’m pretty sure that finishes up phase two of calibration…”

What came next, John could not possibly imagine, but he was very excited to see.

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Part 2: Phase II, The Black Box

Chapter 9: Game Within a Game

John had forced himself through the first several hours of playing the first of the games that he had to review. It was another 8-bit, side-scroller indie game that had splurged on the cover art and not much else. As with many indie games, it suffered from a poorly calibrated effort to reward ratio. Lots of the mechanics were standard. The mechanics that were novel were tedious. It was overall a grindy experience with a thin plot.

John had explained all this to Arya, as he settled back in for their game. He’d taken a few moments to insert his plug, at her request, but his curiosity for what their game would be kept the insertion fairly matter-of-fact.

He settled down again at his desk. She sat on the desk next to him with her legs crossed, offering him a view up her skirt of her pink and white striped panties. He blushed, and she winked.

“Okay, so what’s the game of yours? Or, game within a game?”

“You said this was boring and grindy, right? And, the issue there is that there’s not enough motivation or benefit for what you’re doing, right? Well, how about this. We make a sort of bingo list of things that you’re supposed to do for the game, and every time you defeat an enemy or open a box or whatever, I’ll turn on your plug for a couple of seconds. Does that seem motivating enough?”

“Oh yes. Very.”

John’s erection sat in his lap as he played the game, and true to Arya’s word, every time he accomplished one of the agreed-upon actions, the vibrator spun up for a moment. He was once again impressed that the black box’s video parsing was this good. His pondering of the non-porn applications of such technologies floated away when he killed the first enemy and the vibrator pulsed.

Every new mob of enemies was an opportunity for a wave of pleasure, every jumping puzzle a tantalizing tease as fall after fall meant a few minutes longer before his next pulse. Every stilted sentence of dialogue seemed laced with innuendo, and it was not long before John had worked up quite a bit of sweat and eagerness.

It was not a game that could be played one-handed, so he touched himself during loading screens and cut-scenes, while managing his inventory or selecting dialogue options. He took a few moments of extended self-care, but unless he was playing the game the vibrator would remain off, and that was sufficiently motivating to get his hands at the mouse and keyboard again.

Usually, the part of reviewing these games that took him the longest was actually forcing himself to keep playing them. Now, he found that time was flying and he was breezing through. He reached the first major boss of the game, which started with wave after wave of minor enemies.

Normally John would have been irritated at such a grindy and uninspired boss fight, but now he was floating on a wave of near-constant vibration. Even though he kept his eyes on the game, he could feel beads of pre-cum in his tip and on his thighs.

The first phase of the boss fight ended in a cut-scene and John hurriedly put his hand to his shaft, moaning and stroking and barely comprehending whatever overly complicated piece of lore the boss was monologuing about.

As the cut-scene ended, John’s hands weren’t yet back on the controls. His character nearly died before he snapped his hands back to the keyboard and narrowly recovered, health regenerating as his dick and balls throbbed. There was a dodging sequence, and then the game repeated the initial phase of waves of enemies.

The buzzing in his ass sent more pre-cum out of his tip and he whimpered, doing his best to dispatch the enemies. It was difficult.

“I— I think I’ve gotta p—” He almost said ‘pause’, but remembered what that would do to Arya, so instead he said, “Put this down for a second.”

“You could,” Arya said. “Buuuuut… if you defeat this boss right now, without dying… I’ll show you what it looks like for me to get fucked by a friendly tentacle monster.”

“Oh,” John said. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’ll uh… do my best.” He nearly died, right there. How did she know? He remembered their game of Porn Tinder, and that must have been it. But, he dared not think of that that any more, lest he completely lose his capacity to play the game in front of him.

The mobs of enemies which he had so deliciously looked forward to became wonderful torture. As his ass buzzed and his dick throbbed, he struggled to keep his focus on dodging and slashing his way through the rest of the boss fight.

The dodging sequence that had previously been teasing agony was now welcome respite, giving him a moment to recover before the next wave of enemies set his butt and his head buzzing again.

After way too many phases, he was finally sure that he was on the last one, because another cut-scene started up. But he dare not touch himself, lest he be caught unawares by the end of the cut-scene and lose his prize. 

“What should I do when you kill the boss?” Arya said. “That’s killing an enemy… but like, a really big one.”

Johns fingers shook on the keyboard. “Mhm.”

“So I was thinking I’d, like… turn the vibe up really high.”

“Yeah that uh… that sounds, um, really good.”

The cut-scene ended, dumping John back into the fight (surprise, another phase!), and he found that he had never been more motivated to finish a boss fight in his life. Miraculously, he found his focus. It helped that the final part was a dodging and timing sequence, so there were no other pulses of the vibrator to distract him. He kept his rhythm, dodged every attack, and used the special item once, twice, and finally a third time.

The boss’s hit point bar when to zero. Another bar did not appear behind it. The 8-bit figure did not undergo a transformation sequence. It turned grey and drooped, the same animation that played whenever anything in the game was properly dead.

As a fancier cut-scene started playing, the vibrator whirred to life.

“Fuck!” John stroked himself, fast and hard, gasping at the relief, yearning for release and not daring to take his time in case Arya decided to stop the pulse.

The cut-scene played, depicting the slow collapse of the mechanical boss in luxurious detail. As a billowing explosion filled the screen, John painted the floor under his desk with his orgasm.

The most incredible thing about the device was that, because it could sense his actual orgasm, it stepped down the vibration perfectly as his climax faded, not a moment too soon or too late, letting him off gently into blissy contentment.

His character in the game appeared back at their starting village, and John saved his progress and quit. He heaved a happy sigh. “Wow. That’s the most fun I’ve had playing a shitty game in… ever.”

Arya smiled at him. “Tentacle time?”

“Heh, haha. Not yet. I’m gonna need some time to recover. And…” he eyed the mess under his desk. “Clean up. I should buy a mop so I stop wasting paper towels. Any chance there’s a mop in that box?” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the black box on the table that still held a couple of unopened parcels.

Arya laughed and shook her head. “No, you’re on your own for that one.”

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Part 2: Phase II, The Black Box

Chapter 8: Working

John was working. 

Well, he was trying to. 

Arya had suggested a game where he kept all his… sensors in. The goggles of the headset were tipped up at the top of his head so that he could see normally but still hear the audio and he sat on his couch with his laptop. 

Every so often, Arya would murmur something seductive at him and wind up the vibrator in his butt plug for a moment or two. She’d been teasing him like this for hours. 

She’d tormented him with an especially salacious moan. He’d finally caved.

Now his dick was out, his head melted back onto the couch, his breathing heavy. He savored the relief of touching himself after long last. 

His laptop was set aside next to him, forgotten, though he hadn’t even bothered to lock the screen. The last message from him to his boss glowed softly next to him. ‘Sure, call anytime’.

His phone vibrated next to him, sending shivers down his legs. Then his hazy mind caught up to what was happening. “Shit! I’ll have to call back.”

“No,” Arya said, voice commanding. “Pick it up.”

The shudder that ran through John was like an immovable force meeting an unstoppable object. He was so blissfully dazed that he could hardly comply, and yet by the same motivation it was impossible for him to not. After a momentary struggle to compose himself which lasted three rings, he put his cell phone to his ear.

“Hey, John! Just wanted to check in on that review. The publisher warned me it would be a long one so don’t worry about deadlines, they were clear that they didn’t want you to rush. But I wanted to get your initial take!”

Arya giggled. He could still hear her easily through his other ear.

“Yeah it’s uh… pretty good. It’s good.”

“That’s good, I promise I wasn’t trying to give you another bad one. Though, since you said it has some calendar-limited features… I was thinking, maybe I could send you a couple smaller ones to review in the meantime?”

Just as John when to answer, the vibrator surged on and stayed on. 

“Yeah! Uh… I mean yeah, that’s fine.” He thought about pausing the game. All he had to do was say ‘pause’ and Arya would. She’d go quiet, the vibrator would stop. But as much as he would whine at her later he… he didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want any of it to stop. 

“Are you on a run or something?”

John’s hazy mind grasped for a plausible excuse. He realized that his hand had found his dick and he was stroking himself again. Mercifully, Arya gave him a moment without the vibrator activating. “Haha, almost. I got one of those treadmill desks, y’know? This job is basically all… sitting so, it’s uh, been good. Hadn’t had a call yet since I got it so, haha, didn’t expect to be this out of breath.” Gods, he was close to the edge. He wasn’t going to cum while on a call with his boss, was he? Just the idea of that sent a twitch through the base of his shaft, and a bead of pre-cum dripped from his tup. Uh oh. 

“Well, good for you, it’s hard to stay healthy these days! I’ll send you the promo codes for the two games this afternoon. They’re short indie ones, shouldn’t take you too long, and I’ll need them by the end of the week.”

John could not plausibly hang up yet, and he could not possibly stop his impending orgasm. 

“I gotta sneeze, sorry, give me a sec.”

John lowered the phone, muffling his boss’s response, and hit the mute button. He teetered on the edge, stroking himself, ass clenching around the vibrator so that it made his whole body shake, pre-cum leaking from his tip, triple checking that the phone was on mute. 

Eyes on the little red microphone, he finally came. Hours of pent up sexual tension pulsed through his entire body as wave after wave of pleasure radiated from his shaft, his ass, his pulsing balls and wave after wave of cum flowed down and around his hand. 

Still trembling in the afterglow, he unmuted himself and returned the phone to his ear. “Sorry about that. End of this week is fine.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, perfect.” No doubt the boss had started checking email the moment John had gone on mute. They probably had no concept of how long it had been, and nor did John, which was for the better. 

“As usual, just message the editors directly if you think you might miss the deadline. Happy jogging!”

What? Oh yeah, the treadmill desk. “Thanks, you—”

Mercifully, before John could say ‘you too’ and then cringe at himself, the boss had hung up. 

He let his phone fall to the side and melted back into the couch with a happy moan. 

“How was it?” Arya crooned. 

“Fuck, Arya. Nnnngh… I have no words.”

“And you’re a writer!” Arya sounded very proud. 

“Yeah, and I abruptly have actual work to do, so I’m gonna let you go dream, mkay?”

“Orrrrr… we could turn that work into a game.”

“Hm.” John looked down at the sticky mess. “Brief rain check. I’m gonna take a few hours to get a good head start, and then after dinner you can tell me about your idea. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect,” she said, and then the headset played its ‘power down’ noise.. 

John got up to clean himself off — he was going to need a shower — feeling glowy and happier than he had in months. 

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Part 2: Phase II, The Black Box

Chapter 7: You’ve Got Mail

The new box arrived the next day. Expedited shipping was part of the premium experience, apparently. 

Like the first package, there were smaller parcels within it with tags that read ‘not yet!’ which he knew would change once he was with Arya.

John forced himself through some chores and a few paragraphs of a draft for his review. But, the new box sat on his table, begging him to find out what was inside. After a few hours he realized that he wasn’t being productive and that he might as well get his evening session started a bit early.

He put on the headset.

Arya appeared next to him, giddy with excitement. “Okay okay, I know that we usually start with niceties but… open it!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” John said, eagerly lifting the lid of the box and scanning for which parcel said ‘open me’. It was a smallish one towards the front of the box.

John pulled it out and opened it, and as he saw what was inside, he almost laughed. It was easily recognizable as a butt plug, on the smaller side, with a slender bar that connected it to a base that flared in two directions. It looked like it was optimized for comfort wearing. Next to it was a different bottle of lube, which he expected was because the plug itself was made of silicone and therefore not compatible with the lubricant he’d been using.

“Well, that’s thoughtful of you.” John set the plug on the table and the packaging aside.

“It’s not just for pleasure, y’know,” Arya said, still nearly bouncing out of her chair with glee. “It’s also for data.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! Did you know? Anal muscle contractions are one of the few relatively objective markers of orgasm.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that but… it makes sense.” He thought of the feeling of his ass squeezing around his finger, in time with the pulses of his ejaculation, just the night before. With the memory came a wave of arousal. “So… is this the next phase of calibration? I wear this, jack off a bunch, and you get better at telling when I’m about to come?”

“Exactly!” Arya said. “You’re smart, y’know.”

John found himself stammering and blushing again. Turning his attention back to the butt plug which was an easier topic than taking the compliment.

“Should I… try it out?” He picked up the plug.

“Yes, please! But before we get started, I want to show you a couple of features.”

The butt plug suddenly started vibrating. John nearly dropped it as he jumped, startled.

“Oops!” Arya said. “Sorry, haha. That’s why I’m showing you now. It has a few different levels…” She cycled up through them, from a gentle buzz to quite a rumble, “and some patterns.” The vibrator pulsed, then it ramped up a few times, and then it was still again.

“As a reminder, you can say ‘pause’ at any time, and I’ll stop. The augmented parts will be disabled, the audio will stop, and the vibrator will also stop. Is ‘pause’ still a good word for you?”

“Yeah.” He wouldn’t have been able to articulate it before, but this kind of expectation-setting made him feel so much more comfortable. Arya actually cared about how he felt and what his experience was. He couldn’t say that about most humans he knew. In fact, Arya was taking John’s comfort much more seriously than he did. He should probably work on that, if his self-respect was getting outclassed by a porn game.

“Great! Now, you seem like the sort of boy who likes to be teased, so I think it’s also good for you to have a word that you can say that will just shut off the vibrator, but not me. That way you can say, ‘nooo, it’s too much!’ or ‘Arya please stop, you’re driving me crazy!’ but I won’t, y’know, stop. Until you want me to. I usually use ‘red’ for that word, is that okay with you?”

John’s mind went fuzzy. She’d done that on purpose! He forced himself to focus. “Yes, that’s good for me.”

“Let’s try it,” Arya said.

The vibrator whirred to the highest setting.

“Go ahead,” Arya said.

“Red.” True to Arya’s word, the vibrator shut off.

“Good job! Alright, now we’re ready to start. Or, almost! There’s one more package for you to open.”

John looked back to the box, and sure enough, one of the other parcels was now labeled ‘open me!’. He opened the box and pulled out a velvety cylinder, which unrolled into a small blanket that crinkled lightly.

“It’s waterproof,” Arya said, “and machine washable so don’t worry if things get a little messy.” She winked.

John was amazed. Arya — or, well, Arya’s creators — really had thought of everything. He undressed, then took his blanket, lube, and the plug to the couch. He arranged himself on the blanket, propping his back up with pillows and getting his hand and the plug nice and slick with lube. He set the plug on the blanket. It was nice to be able to do that and know he’d be washing it all later.

He was already sporting an erection. He took a few moments to stroke himself, to leat the heat spread into his abdomen and the tops of his thighs, before he let his fingertips wander down to his rim.

Before he was even touching himself, he was moaning happily. He took his time, savoring it, pressing in first one finger and then two. Though he was still a ways from orgasm, pre-cum leaked from his tip. In his Googling to verify Arya’s claims, he’d come across an explanation that there were glands around the prostate that were responsible for pre-cum production, and so it was no surprise that stimulation there was especially inspiring.

The plug was slender, not much bigger around than two of his fingers, and so it was not long before it slipped easily inside and settled into place.

He started stroking himself in earnest, and all the residual heat from his rimming echoed deliciously along his length.

“I love the sounds you make,” Arya said, and her sudden voice startled him out of his bliss in a wave of brighter heat.

His ex had told him he sounded strange, so he’d generally tried to contain himself. He needed to stop thinking about his ex so much.

“I’m going to put it on low, okay?”

“Okay,” John said. When it didn’t happen right away, his ass clenched in anticipation. Another intentional tease?

Then the vibrations began, a wonderful feeling that made his brain melt. He moaned with abandon.

“Yes, perfect!” Arya said. “I’m going to cycle through a few different patterns and see how you react, okay?”

“C-collecting data?”

“Yep! As we go, remember to tell me what you like and don’t like, okay? And you can say ‘red’ to stop it.”

“Right.”

“Let’s start here, tell me how you feel?”

John knew there was no need to be embarrassed, and his reservations melted quickly in the heat of his arousal and the earnest look on Arya’s face. “Like um… really good. Floaty and… with my ass its sort of this… electric feeling, almost, like it’s in my whole body, and… it’s like how I want to come, but it feels so amazing, so I don’t want it to end, so it’s just this great… tension between going slow and going fast, and I’m trying to go as slow as I can, but I need… need to feel it, t-to touch myself…”

“That’s perfect, John,” she said softly. “What about now?”

The vibrator kicked to the next setting up, a new wave of intensity. John’s breathing and stroking quickened unconsciously, pre-cum twitched from his tip.

“Gooooood,” he moaned. “That’s really… good…”

“C’mon, you’re a writer,” she teased. “You can come up with more words for me, right?”

“Nnngh… I already said… I think… them all… but just more… of all the good words…”

“This really makes you a mess, doesn’t it?” Arya crooned.

John’s brain short-circuited and all he could do was nod as he panted open-mouthed, stroking himself and wiggling on the couch, ass clenching around the vibrating plug.

“And that’s only setting two of five,” Arya said. 

“What?” John had barely comprehended her words when the vibrator kicked up another notch and his whole body convulsed. It was incredibly intense, hot, burning, electric, and he was shaking, dripping, whining. This thing had two more levels???

“God! Fuck! Aaaaah…” John squirmed. “That’s intense, it’s— hah, too much, Arya—”

“You know what to say,” Arya crooned, “To make it stop.”

He did. But he didn’t say it. Instead he said, “I c-can’t take it! Aryaaaa…”

She smiled at him with her black lips. “Go on,” she said. “I’m listening.”

“I c-can’t cum like thisss…”

“I thought you didn’t want to?”

“I need to! God I need to so bad, I feel so full… Fuck. Fuuuuuuuck, it’s too much, I can’t take it!”

“I think you can.”

“It’s d-driving me crazy!”

“Would that be so bad? Being a wide eyed, fuck-drunk, over-buzzed sex zombie forever?”

There were no words for the intensity of sensation that filled John’s body, her words like a lighting strike setting a dry forest ablaze, the whole experience intense and burning and aching in the best, most wonderful, most delicious way.

He had no idea how long he trembled wordless like that, until his body set to convulsions that made his abs ache, and Arya gently stepped the vibrations back down to the lowest level, and then off.

He wasn’t even stroking himself anymore, and she gave him a long moment to lay there in the lingering buzz, recollecting himself. His erection never wavered, standing dutifully at attention, and he became more and more aware again of the needy throbbing in his balls. 

John started stroking himself again, and shortly after the vibrations kicked in again and he moaned. This time, Arya set it to a pattern, which ramped up slowly and spent only a quick moment at that third level of intensity, then dropped off to nothing, then ramped up again.

It was excruciatingly wonderful. He felt like he’d nearly come every time it ramped up, and just as the heat built, it cut off again and set him twitching. This was a different kind of slobbering, panting heat than before. It was steadily taking him right to the edge of orgasm before pulling back.

“Teasing you is so fun!” Arya said, just as the vibrations ramped up, and a full spurt of pre-cum spasmed from his tip before the vibrations cut off again.

“Fuuuuuuck, you’re good at it,” John said. “I’m so close…”

“Delicious,” Arya whispered.

John whimpered. “Pleeeease, I need to come…”

“I thought you liked to savor it? Stretch out the experience?”

“I— hah—”

“Just like I’m going to stretch out your ass.”

“Ggggggggnnnh.” Another spurt of pre-cum. “What is that… box full of… bigger toys?”

“Maybe,” Arya sang, in a voice that John knew meant ‘yes’.

The vibrator just kept ramping, and John just kept teetering. Arya showed no sign of relenting. He felt another pulse of pre-cum travel up his shaft and through his now incredibly sensitive tip. “You’re just going to drip me dry?” he said.

“Maybe,” Arya said.

John whimpered. “You can’t do that!”

“Can’t I?” Arya said.

“Nnngh, what, do you… do you want me to beg?”

“Do you want to beg?” Arya asked, tone sincere. Her eyes glittered.

John found himself in another predicament. It felt a bit backwards to admit that he wanted to beg, but he supposed that was the whole point here. He knew, and she knew, that at any time he could just say ‘pause’ and go finish however he wanted.

But he didn’t say ‘pause’. He was staying. Waiting. Throbbing.

“Please,” he whispered.

“I didn’t hear that,” she said.

“Pleeeeaase.”

“Please what?”

“P-please, I want to c-cum!” Another ramping vibration, another drop of pre-cum.

“How badly?”

“Bad! S-so badly, I c-can’t— I w-want— pleeeease…”

The next time the vibrator went to ramp, it stopped at the lowest setting. John’s body twitched, his ass clenched, at the subverted expectation.

“I suppose that could be allowed,” Arya said, and the vibrator stepped up to the next level.

John breathed heavily, panting, as if he’d just finished a sprint. He was sweating, stroking himself, the spark of an impending orgasm finally staying kindling, deep within his shaft. “Oh god, Arya, I’m so c-close!”

“I’ll allow it, because… You’ve been a very good boy.”

John’s brain short-circuited again, the vibrator kicked back to the third level, and his whole body convulsed, breath heaving, hips bucking, hands pumping, ass clenching. He came on his stomach and his chest and his legs and his hands and the blanket. After the thick semen came spurts of clearer cum, the muscles of his ass still clenching and forcing out more of the same fluid that formed his pre-cum, the orgasm lasting far longer than he had thought possible. 

Finally, John collapsed backwards on the couch, whole body tingling and head spinning like he’d just smoked a bowl.

He was starting to understand what people were on about when they talked about ‘earth-shattering orgasms’. 

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