Wait

I love the idea of suggestions that happen when a toy misbehaves... And this is what today's story is about! Enjoy!

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There’s something so wonderful about the prospect of future pleasure.

So much potential. So many wicked thoughts that just creep into your head.

You hypnotist knows know what you want, and they will give it to you.

You just have to wait. You can do that. Can’t you?

If not… Well, would it be so bad to touch yourself? To let yourself feel good?

No. You know that you can’t touch without their permission. You’re their good toy. And good toys don’t touch unless instructed.

Though there are so many sweet sexy thoughts running through your head right now. They wouldn’t have to know…

What if you just rubbed, over your clothes? That doesn’t count as touching. Does it? Unbidden, your hand had already moved down and started rubbing, the sensation bringing a soft moan to your lips.

Fuck.. It does feel so good. This pleasure. Forbidden and so, so, sweet.

But it’s not enough. You need more. Your other hand has started to explore your body, finding other sensitive areas that make you gasp with such beautiful neediness. And even then, you need more. Your hand finally slips beneath your clothing. Going to your sex.

All thought of obedience is gone. Replaced by lust. An insatiable, never ending need to touch. You can feel the edge coming, can feel it begin to peak, and your hand stops, making you gasp, and thrust, and moan. But you can’t make yourself cum.

You can’t control that hand. As the pleasure slowly reduces, your other hand is teasing, and once the pleasure is down enough, your hand between your legs starts moving again.

Oh god. It feels so good. You know you should stop. That you haven’t been told to touch.

You look at the clock on the wall. Half an hour till your hypnotist is back. Plenty of – Another edge came rushing up, pushing the thought out of your mind. And your hand stops again. You moan in frustration, begging, pleading, needy, desperate. Just wanting to cum.

Finally. After what seems like an age, your hand starts moving again. And the cycle continues. You reach the edge and you can’t cum. No matter how hard you try. Again, and again. Each time leaving you a little more mindless. A little more needy.

When your hypnotist arrived, they found their toy kneeling naked on the floor, moaning your mantras as you leaked and thrust, aching and desperate for release.

You hadn’t been a good toy. And they were going to leave you like this for a little while. You didn’t mind, in the end.