I thought about this last night as I was drifting to sleep.
I imagined sitting in a tall chair on a platform. A throne, if you will. I am naked and surrounded by ten naked women, all of them deep in orgasm denial, each of them antsy, on edge, and wanting to cum.
I spread my legs in front of them and begin touching myself.
"There are severe consequences for cumming. None of you will cum without my permission," I tell them, gesturing to the man in the corner with a whip. He nods back in my direction and all ten girls tremble a little in fear.
"Who would like to go first?" I ask and one of the girls raises her hand shyly.
"Very good. You will kneel right here," I say, pointing to the floor directly between my legs. She does and her face is mere inches away from my pussy. I begin touching again.
"Spread your legs wider," I tell her, "You’re allowed to touch and edge but not cum. That goes for all of you."
Then I begin touching myself, rubbing softly and steadily, turned on by her poor, sad expression until I cum, bucking my hips as close to her face as I can, teasing her, even exaggerating my own pleasure for her benefit and agony.
She is touching herself as well, though often stops and pulls her hand away like a good girl, breathing deeply before her hands go back between her legs.
I crouch down beside her and run my fingers between the lips of her pussy and lick the juice from my fingers.
"You’ve been a very good girl," I tell her, cupping her jaw in my hand, "But you are still not allowed to cum. Who’s next?"
Some of the girls raise their hands. Two of them stand. Some of them are dripping with sweat, furiously touching themselves.
One girl is obviously very deeply frustrated. She touches herself for a few seconds and then angrily jerks her hand away. She stamps her heel against the floor and groans in frustration, then looks around the room and touches herself again. I bring her forward.
"Sit with your legs spread wide and put your face as close to my pussy as possible," I tell her and she obeys. I touch myself.
"Do you want to cum, girl?" I ask. She is lost, staring deeply at my pussy as I rub and please myself.
"Answer me!" I yell. She snaps to attention.
"Yes, ma’am. I want to cum so bad."
"Do you find it frustrating to watch me touch myself so freely, to watch me cum when I want, however quickly I want, when you’re not allowed?"
"Yes, ma’am," she continues, rubbing and jerking her hand away, resting. It’s a constant cycle. I can tell she’s flushed bright red. Her nipples have become hardened points. This girl could cum at any minute if I let her.
"Watch me cum again. Watch me as I please myself and cum and enjoy that sweet, sweet pleasure. Does that make you jealous?"
"Good. I’m glad."
I keep rubbing, harder and harder,until I cum again, bucking my hips as close to her face as I can without touching her, teasing her with the ultimate cruelty of showing her what she can’t have.
"Girl, would you like to lick me clean after that orgasm so I can be ready to have another one?" I ask. She nods, staring at the floor, her hands still between her legs, softly teasing herself.
She whimpers which sends shockwaves of desire to my pussy. She begins licking me, softly teasing the lips of my pussy before dragging her tongue over my clit.
"Thank you, girl. You may go now but you are not allowed to cum."
She jerks her hand away from between her legs yet again and whimpers again, this time louder and more desperate.
I love that sound.