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Testing Zoe - Extract - Masturbate!
"I think we should have a break from all these gang-
bangs," Master Philip sighed one morning, after a
particularly numerous gathering the previous night.
"You've been working so hard at giving pleasure -
maybe we'll concentrate on your pleasure for a while."
Zoe wasn't sure she could believe her ears. Was he
being serious?
"I want you to masturbate for me."
They were lying side by side and Master Philip
propped himself up on one elbow to look at her. "Still
'for me', mind! Offer up your orgasm and all that."
Zoe raised her eyebrows. Master Philip in a frivolous
mood! A rare thing.
"Go on then," he urged. "Masturbate!"
"What, now?"
"Yes, why not?"
"Okay - thank you, Master!" Zoe said, and moved her hand into position.
It was difficult to concentrate at first, with him watching, but she soon got caught up in
memories of the night before and found herself coming along nicely.
Master Philip knew that she liked to have something in her pussy as she came (otherwise
orgasms 'didn't take properly' and 'fizzled out'), and so Zoe was very gratified when he
inserted a couple of fingers just exactly at the moment when she felt she needed them.
Her breathing rate rising and her hand working faster told him she was getting close, and
one strong image later (a nice, heavy bondage fantasy) she was over the edge and
gasping.
Immediately afterwards Master Philip grabbed her wrist with his other hand, to see how
her pulse was racing.
"How men can say they don't know if a woman's come I don't know," he said, somewhat
pretentiously. "Okay, maybe a slit could be as juicy and sticky as this just before an
orgasm, as well as after it. Maybe the rapid breathing can be put on. But can any amount
of pseudo-grunting and sighing take the pulse rate up this high? I think not!"
After a little more probing, he wiped his sticky hand on Zoe's thigh. "I mention these
things because I want you to know I can tell when you've really come. Especially when
you're just lying there, relaxed - your pulse will always tell me."
Zoe was slightly affronted. "But Master, you know I never fake orgasms. I either come or
not - I've never seen the point of pretending."
"Ah, but maybe you haven't been tested. You see, I'm going to be telling you to do it more
often than you might have before."
Aha, thought Zoe. That catch, again.
"As of today, I want you to come - let me see, we'll start off with ten times a day. How
does that sound?"
"It sounds like a lot, Master! They don't always come that easily. And they get more
difficult if you try to do several in a row."
"Then you'll be frigging yourself all day in a struggle to achieve your quota! Exactly my
intention!" He grinned mischievously. "Honestly! Being instructed to give yourself an
excess of pleasure and you're complaining! You don't know what a lucky slave you are!"
What a clever, subtle, difficult test this new turn of events was to be for Zoe.
Of course she enjoyed having orgasms just like the rest of us, and had found those
occasions when she wasn't allowed to have them quite trying - like during long periods in
bondage, for example, and perhaps when being fucked but nevertheless left in an
unassisted, frustrated state of arousal.
But to be forced to have so many? A nice idea in a way, but she only hoped that the
pressure to achieve wouldn't pollute her pleasure in the future. In short, she was slightly
afraid this excess of self indulgence might put her off the same in the months and years to
come.
However, after a little experimentation, she found she could 'manage' her orgasm quota
quite well. Trying to have them one immediately after the other was the problem. It did get
more and more difficult, requiring increasing effort for a less and less spectacular result.
But she found that if she rested in between - at least fifteen minutes, but preferably half an
hour - they came easily again.
Still, that was five hours a day at least to be spent focusing on wanking! She found it a bit
shattering, and kept dozing off and getting behind schedule.
But this was just the start of Master Philip's plans in the masturbation department. On
days when he was home (the number of which he now contrived to increase), Zoe's
orgasm quota would be raised to fifteen or even twenty, and she wouldn't be allowed to
amuse herself between times around the house, but would be chained to a bed for most of
the day, with a special heart rate monitor that Master Philip had had specially designed,
clamped to her wrist.
Surrounding her on the bed were a variety of vibrators and dildos which she was
instructed to make good use of, and she soon got into a pattern of alternately using her
fingers and a vibrator to bring herself off.
The monitor on her wrist recorded full details of her heart rate, and though she secretly
thought that she could probably cheat and increase her pulse even in her chained down
position (by, say, doing some prolonged arm and leg exercises), she didn't dare put this to
the test, in case some difference in the digitally recorded pattern gave her away.
Master Philip would frequently wander in as she lay there, and stand looking down on the
picture of sensuality she presented - usually while talking to someone on his mobile phone,
or munching on a sandwich, or sipping at coffee.
One morning, he first had her dress in some new sexy red underwear, and then lay the
bed she was going to be lying on with black silk sheets.
As Zoe correctly guessed, this turned out to be because he'd invited some business
associates over, and after a meeting asked them upstairs to have a look at where his sex
slave lay wanking herself all day.
They didn't believe it til they saw it, and they were lucky - they entered the room just as
Zoe was going over the edge as a result of a particularly filthy fantasy she'd been using to
help her. (The fantasies had to get filthier and filthier as the day went on, although
sometimes a really good one would work for several orgasms in a row.)
The men stood looking at her open-mouthed as she lay there, legs thrown wide, thick
dildo protruding from wet pussy, face flushed, and body shining slightly with the sweat of
her exertions, and were too stunned, on that occasion, to consider asking for some sort of
gratification. They certainly took away with them an image they'd never forget, though!
Having people wander in for a look became a regular occurrence, and Zoe was
sometimes so absorbed in what she was doing that she hardly noticed that there was some
man peering at her from the end of the bed.
At other times, however, the men, with Master Philip's approval, made the most of her wet
pussy and put her behind schedule again, though she did her best to keep wanking even
while she was otherwise engaged.
One evening, when she'd been at it all day long, and was aiming for number twelve of a
particularly difficult quota of twenty orgasms, Master Philip dragged her sweaty form
downstairs and had her lie in the middle of the floor while he and some friends enjoyed a
little cocktail party.
She was so exhausted she didn't really care what a spectacle she made of herself, lying
there jerking her hips in an attempt to get more stimulation from a vibrator, and wasn't too
bothered when all the men came and stood over her and began unzipping their flies.
"This is too much!" she heard one of them say.
"What a beauty!" said another.
"That's how I like to see a woman!"
Two or three of the men - including Master Philip - knelt down around her head, and she
knew what was coming. She paused at the realisation, but was quickly told, "Don't stop!
We're going to let the lady come first."
The close proximity of the men did affect her of course, and looking up at them from her
lowly position helped her get to that point of no return. Just as she went over the edge she
felt the first splash on her thigh, and a moment later Master Philip was giving her a
command that would often feature in her fantasies on subsequent attempts.
A common phrase that took on new meaning in this context:
"Close your eyes and open wide!"
Then an unexpectedly pleasant turn of events happened.
Master Philip decreed that he wanted to increase her daily quota still further but,
acknowledging the difficulties, intended to help her. By getting a string of male submissives
in to give her some good oral!
And so began one of the most enjoyable periods of Zoe's testing, for having somebody
else do all the hard work for you was so much more relaxing, and of course the sensations
of oral sex were so wonderful that it really felt like a treat to get so much of it.
Master Philip had actually commissioned some contact of his to come up with compliant
and experienced male slaves by liaising with a number of professional mistresses in the
city.
They came for three hour stints, paid extra for the privilege of an adventure, and were
under strict instructions not to even think of being allowed to fuck the lady they would be
servicing. Many and varied though they were - from portly executives to slim young
students - they all behaved impeccably and caused no trouble at all. No doubt they had
each been warned by their own mistresses not to misbehave.
Thus a queue formed at the foot of Zoe's bed, and each of the men - who had to strip
naked before beginning their duties - took his turn at immersing his tongue in her pussy for
as long as it took for the desired effect to be achieved.
They were all skilful, though their technique varied, and since nobody had told her not to,
Zoe was quick to give them instructions and make complaints when things were less than
perfect for her.
Since she had absolutely nothing to do except lie on her back and get expertly licked off,
then wait a while before starting all over again, she soon receded into an amazingly relaxed
and contented mental world of excess pleasure and deep, complex fantasy. Whole books
were played out in her mind as she lay there! Bizarre, kinky stories about worlds of
dominant men and profusions of submissive women! All manner of secret corners of her
mind were explored, and she discovered that things she'd never thought would turn her on,
turned her on!
Still, in this stupor of pleasure, she found Master Philip and his friends coming to have an
occasional look at her, and it was clear that the added humiliation on the part of the slaves
(to be so contrasted with a category of privileged men) excited them even more, for they
made huge efforts to try to hide their frustrated erections. They would have to stand aside
while the other men were permitted to fuck Zoe, and then immediately afterwards,
commence licking her again. Which meant, of course, that... they were further humiliated!
So many submissive men were being presented to Master Philip for the purpose of
pleasuring his slave that he let this phase of Zoe's orgasmic odyssey carry on for some
time.
Zoe, who had stopped worrying now about whether the excess of stimulation would cause
her orgasmic mechanism to malfunction somehow (it didn't - it worked perfectly every time),
was enjoying her new state of existence immensely, and didn't want it to end. How
wonderful, to be lying in comfort with a soft, warm tongue working away at your bits,
reaching that stage when you think - 'this is so brilliant, I don't want it to end, I want it to go
on and on and on' - and knowing that you can in fact have your wish! It will go on and on
and on!
Until, that is, your Master decides you've had enough.
He was still keen on pursuing the experiment of enforcing and increasing the number of
Zoe's orgasms, and he recognised that the slaves were a valuable tool to this end, but he
rather thought that his slave was getting it too easy, and considered it about time that he
made things a little less comfortable for her.
Late one morning, he arrived home from a shopping spree with a huge roll of something
over his shoulder.
"Right, get up," he told Zoe, who was, as usual, lying on her back getting pleasured.
Somewhat reluctantly, she dragged herself to her feet, while the wet-faced male submissive
who had been interrupted in his favourite task crawled unbidden into a corner.
"Look what I found in that rubber warehouse down by the docks!" With a flourish, Master
Philip threw open the roll onto the bed. It was a thick sheet of black rubber, not smooth, but
covered with thick rubber studs, protruding upwards like a sea of hard, black nipples.
"They make bags out of this stuff, but I've thought of another use. As of now, you're going
to lie on it."
Master Philip almost laughed at how Zoe's face fell.
"But Master, it doesn't look very - "
"What? Comfortable?"
"No, Master."
"Oh, Zoe! I have been spoiling you! You can't even remember what discomfort is!"
"Yes, I can, Master!" Zoe insisted.
"Well, I'm pleased to hear it. You certainly shouldn't be complaining about a few little
lumps, anyway. It could be a bed of nails, you know!"
Zoe shuddered and looked down.
"Really! All these men grovelling at your feet - well, at your pussy - has got you too close
to Mistress mode. You can see that we've got to redress the balance, can't you?"
Zoe nodded, and though pleased in a way to be put back in her place, noticed how difficult
it was to even consider the thought of giving up the constant oral pleasure she had got
used to.
This was going to be more of a test than perhaps her Master realised. The temptation
was definitely there to take herself away to some quiet corner of the world, with the string of
willing tongues in tow, and live on in endless orgasmic bliss!
"I'll do whatever you want, Master!" she wanted to say. "Only don't have these guys stop
licking me yet."
But she stopped herself, just in case such a heartfelt request prompted her unpredictable
dominator to deliberately take the opposite course of action!
Suddenly, Master Philip was bodily picking her up and throwing her onto the studded
sheet. Then he was tucking the sheet firmly into place to make sure it would stay under
her, while Zoe herself twitched and squirmed and grumbled as she discovered just how
uncomfortable this new surface was.
Next, Master Philip produced two sets of handcuffs and before Zoe realised what was
happening, had grabbed each of her arms and shacked her wrists to the corners of the
bed. Now she wouldn't be able to push on the heads of the men pleasing her, or
experiment with different positions, or use a whip to encourage them, as she'd occasionally
started to do.
"Ow, Master!" she complained.
"Be quiet, or I'll have your legs up over your head!"
Now he was pulling a tight belt round her middle, and as always, this had such a direct
erotic effect on her that she was soon purring and fawning like a proper slave again. This
was curtailed, however, but what next appeared in Master Philip's hand.
"Oh, no!" Zoe cried. "Not nipple clamps, Master. Please not!"
"Silence, or I'll gag you! They're only gentle and you'll soon get used to them."
Zoe submitted meekly to the clamps and was rewarded with a kiss.
"Now. How many orgasms left to achieve today?"
"Seventeen, Master."
"Well, get on with it then. I've got a new batch of tongues coming round in a couple of
hours, so there'll be no excuse. See you later, slut."
Zoe couldn't be sure whether he left the room at this point, or stood around quietly a little
longer to make the most of the highly stimulating image she presented. She only knew -
from the speed of her next orgasm once a warm mouth was once again clamped round her
clit - that she was happy, oh, so happy, to be firmly back in her Master's power again.
Weeks passed and still Master Philip kept his poor exhausted slave in a near constant state
of sexual arousal, though to be fair, he let her have days off, here and there (to do the
housework).
The lickers kept coming (for the pool of submissive men in this world is bottomless) but
Zoe also had to do a lot of work herself, and had been forced to experiment with countless
arousal options, such as standing up and wanking herself off on the corner of a table,
finding new uses for a variety of different sized paintbrushes (gosh, how they tickled!), and
allowing herself to be fixed up to an electro-stimulator, which was supposed to trigger
spontaneous orgasms, but proved completely ineffective, and was abandoned by Master
Philip as being too risky anyway.
And she didn't just have to frig herself in the bedroom, or on the floor of the lounge. Oh,
no, she was to please herself all over the place, like in the car, out in the parks, in the ladies
toilet of a department store, in the luggage compartment of a train, in the back row of a
regular cinema and, of course, while restrained in no end of different bondage positions and
costumes.
Here's a final image of a wanking Zoe for readers to dwell on at leisure.
Venue: Back of a black cab parked in the quietest corner of a remote trading estate.
Time of day: About eleven o'clock at night, after the grotty pub she's been under the pool
table of all afternoon and evening has closed, and just as the kinky nightclub she's being
taken to is getting going.
Orgasm quota: Twenty five down, five to go before midnight.
Attire: Thigh-length boots chained together at the ankles and knees, thick dildo held fast
up her pussy by a series of leather straps, sexy purple corset reinforced with whalebone
and pulled ultra-tight with narrow black laces, state-of-the-art tit clamps gripping the bases
of her breasts and holding them close together, wristcuffs, blindfold, and a few extra chains
and straps draped around for effect.
Audience: Mick, Bob and Dave, three taxi drivers she's been entrusted to for the whole
day and night, and something like twenty of Mick, Bob and Dave's mates, fighting to push
their heads and cocks through the windows of the cab, and spreading the word rapidly on
their grapevine of radios and mobile phones.
Amount of spunk on Zoe's naked tits: Lots.
Stickiness of Zoe's fingers: Very.
Stickiness of Zoe's pussy: Exceptional.
Number of men who are going to have heard about this event by the end of the week:
Thousands.
Zoe's state of mind: Orgasmic! What else?
Erotic Writing