Cute Girls

The Fertility Clinic Ch. 03

“Author’s note:

First, I would like to acknowledge and thank Wagoneer88 for his efforts in proofreading and editing this story.

This is a continuation of a story separated into several parts. For it to make sense you really should read the whole thing, in order.

Lastly, if you haven’t read the Author’s note at the beginning of Part 1, PLEASE do so.

Peter

Now on to the story:”

We went home. After dinner as we headed to bed Sally said, “Okay, we need to do your stimulation now.”

I lay back on the bed with my legs slightly parted and Sally sat on the edge of the bed and began.

That first night wasn’t so bad. Sally started off by playing with my balls and cock very gently. She finally started to stroke me. She was obviously watching the clock, which I couldn’t see, waiting until 20 minutes had gone by. She was playing with my cock and I was very close to cumming when she said, “Time’s up!” She had not had to take a break. The ‘treatment’ had felt wonderful and I hadn’t wanted her to stop. Sure I wanted to cum, but it wasn’t that bad. And I knew it was for a good reason.

That was it for the night. She rolled over and asked to be cuddled and I went to sleep with a hard-on resting between her ass cheeks and with a smile on my face!

Tuesday night was a bit different. “I called the Doctor today,” Sally started out, as we were getting ready for bed.

“Oh, why?” I asked.

“Well, I wasn’t comfortable that I did it right last night. For one thing I don’t think I got you close enough to cumming before I stopped. After I described it to the Doctor she thought maybe I was right. So she gave me some things to look for and also suggested using this Astroglide product. So let’s start,” Sally concluded.

“Okay, but I think you got me plenty close to cumming last night. I’ve never been that close and not cum before!” I said, somewhat skeptical of what was to come. The thought of being brought even closer to orgasm and then being denied didn’t sound too appealing. Then it dawned on me that was exactly what Dr. Jones had done during the fluid collection, though I hadn’t viewed it in those terms at the time.

Sally was clearly in charge. She had me lie back on the bed with my legs spread wide and, unlike the night before, she kneeled between them. My knees were spread and bent over her thighs, giving her full access to my cock and balls. Unlike Monday night when she wore her nightie, on Tuesday she was completely naked. Sally has great tits, and I’m definitely a tit man. Looking at her gorgeous mounds was getting me turned on before she even started.

This time she started off much slower than the night before. She stroked and tickled my balls and would slowly run her fingers lightly up and down the shaft before switching her attention back to my balls. I was getting hard fast, and very turned on. I didn’t think it was going to take 20 minutes for me to reach my limit tonight.

“Dr. Jones said that you need to tell me if you feel like you’re going to cum. She said that unless I at least get you to the point where you have to tell me to stop that we aren’t getting close enough. Also, don’t you dare cum. If we ruin this test, Dr. Jones said she has another way to accomplish this, but it’s much more drastic and she said to tell you that you wouldn’t like it one bit. So don’t be tempted to let me go too far just so you can shoot!” Sally was very serious, but she was also smiling while she said all this. And her nipples were somewhat erect, not fully, but more than normal. I quickly realized she was getting into this.

After a few minutes, she reached over and took the bottle of lube and poured some in her palms, and then rubbed her hands together. When she started to stroke me again the feeling was amazing. It was much more slippery stuff than the baby oil she occasionally used to give me a hand job. This stuff reduced the friction greatly, but not the sensation. I could see that she would be able to stroke me quite a bit more than usual without making me cum. It was already a frustrating feeling.

Sally was stroking very slowly, and using her other hand to cup and stroke my balls. Every once in a while she would stop stroking and grasp my cock head in a loose fist and twist her hand back and forth as if she were turning a doorknob. Her other ‘trick’ was to hold my cock just below the head in one hand and rub the palm of her other hand all over my glans. She would sometimes add more lube to her palm right before doing this. The feeling was very intense.

Most remarkable of all was that these were all new techniques I’d never experienced from her before, and they were driving me wild! The sensations were fantastic. I was loving every minute of it, until suddenly my brain started to function again. No possible way could I take 20 minutes of this, and it finally registered that there would be no cumming as a result. That was incomprehensible! I didn’t have long to think about it, because I was already getting very close to cumming.

“Sally, I think you’d better stop or I’m going to cum,” I blurted out. In spite of wanting to cum as badly as I could ever remember, I was thinking of Dr. Jones’ warning about a more drastic approach if this experiment failed.

“Oh Joel, I know you can take a bit more of this. We want to get you as close as possible for this test to work is what Dr. Jones told me today. You just need to exercise a bit of self control!” was Sally’s reply as she continued without pausing or lightening up one bit.

I was sorely tempted to just give in and experience what I knew would be a fantastic orgasm and live with the consequences, but I still had enough rational control left that I did my best to hold back.

Sally continued administering her newfound cock stimulating expertise until I again told her I was going to cum any second. This time her verbal response was similar, but she did alter what she was doing.

“Oh, you can last a bit longer, I know you can,” but as she said this, she slowed and loosened her strokes. And she stopped giving my cock head so much attention on every stroke.

“Sally!” I exclaimed in a near desperate voice.

“Yes, I think you are just about there now,” she said very matter-of-factly. And with that she stopped completely. I groaned loudly. While I definitely would have cum in another instant, the frustration of her stopping was excruciating.

I groaned again as she started to stroke and caress my balls. “Please just let me rest, don’t do that now,” I almost begged.

“You know the doctor wants maximum stimulation and she said this wouldn’t make you cum, but would increase sperm production,” Sally responded quite reasonably. She didn’t stop. I just moaned a bit more.

I didn’t see how this was going to allow me to recover enough for Sally to resume the ‘real’ stimulation. Normally I could see the clock on the bedside table while lying where I was, but it appeared as if Sally had turned it so only she could see it. Therefore I could only guess, but I was sure we must have more than half of the twenty minutes left to go.

Sally’s constant playing with my balls was driving me crazy. Finally the feeling of impending orgasm had subsided and just as I was about to say something Sally beat me to it. “I think I can resume now.” And she did, just as before. It wasn’t long before I felt my orgasm building again. It was obvious to me that each session would have to be shorter and shorter, resulting in several of these maddening cycles each night.

Sally was apparently learning fast though, because she slowed sooner this time and was able to prolong the build-up stage. I hadn’t yet needed to tell her how close I was. Every time I felt I would cum if she didn’t ease up, she did. But didn’t stop.

Finally I had to say, “Sally, you’d better stop, I’m at the point of no return!”

“Just a little bit more,” she said, and she eased way off, but proceeded to very slowly and loosely give me about four more strokes. I had to struggle very hard not to cum and just as she stopped my balls contracted and my cock had a spasm, but I didn’t cum.

I was sweating all over. “Sally, I don’t think we have to make sure I come that close!” I protested.

“Joel,” Sally said in her most reasonable tone, “I want to be sure we do this right, and this is exactly what Dr. Jones told me on the phone today. I now see the difference as compared to last night and you definitely didn’t get nearly close enough then for maximum sperm production.” End of discussion I could tell.

After a few seconds pause she was back massaging my scrotum again.

In total she put me through four of these cycles to the very verge of cumming. When she finally stopped I was a mess. I reached over and turned the clock and saw that it had been nearly 40 minutes since we started! “Sally! The doctor said 20 minutes and you went on for 40, why?” I was a little pissed. I was going to do my best at this, but I saw no reason for putting up with any more than necessary.

Once again in what was starting to get on my nerves, Sally used her most reasonable, calm voice “Joel, the doctor said AT LEAST 20 minutes, plus don’t forget that the recovery time between stroking doesn’t count. The 20 minutes of ‘real’ stimulation didn’t occur until the fourth time, and I wanted to finish that cycle before stopping. Otherwise what’s the point?”

I knew better than to argue, but this was going to be way, way worse than I had ever imagined, I could now see.

We finished getting ready for bed and were soon under the covers. It had taken quite some time for my erection to go away, and it was quite a long time after that before I fell asleep.

On Wednesday I had a lesson we all know, reinforced. When you know you can’t have something, you want it all the more. Often it’s the only thing you can think of. While an entire week is longer than I normally go without an orgasm, it does happen off and on. Moreover with our busy lifestyle; jobs, kids, business travel, etc. it is frequent that sex is a weekend thing. Going from Sunday to Friday without any sexual release is quite common. But when you KNOW you for sure aren’t going to cum for a while, (it was now 5 days to go), you can’t help thinking about it. Not to mention the daily stimulation I’d been receiving was making me very horny!

Wednesday night was almost an exact replay of Tuesday. But during the early evening Sally seemed in an especially cheerful mood. She was smiling a lot. During my arousal treatment (as I was thinking of it) Sally’s good humor continued. I could tell she was enjoying herself. When she reached the end of the first cycle, as she took one last stroke she let out a little giggled “Oooh”.

The frustration was much greater than the night before and I was really starting to wonder if I could go through this until Monday.

As she was just ending the third cycle Sally remarked, “Oh Joel, I can hardly believe this. Your cock is bigger and harder than I’ve ever seen it. You must really need to cum, huh?” She said this as if she was serious, but it made the whole thing all the more frustrating. I was sure she was purposely teasing me a bit. In the same tone she went on while doing the subsequent ball massage, “Your balls are very full. I think this must be working. I sure hope they don’t ache too much tomorrow.”

It would end up taking five cycles this evening to get in the 20 minutes, though based on the total time I’m positive we’d used up 20 minutes by the end of the fourth one and Sally just decided to keep going.

As soon as she finished Sally hesitated and then asked, “If I tell you something will you promise not to get angry at me?”

I assured her I wouldn’t. She continued, “Playing with you like this is really turning me on! I’m horny as hell.” This was a bit of a surprise. Not that she was horny or being turned on, but that she would talk about it so directly. It was out of character for Sally.

Frankly I could already tell that Sally was enjoying this cock-teasing role she found herself in. And while it bugged me a bit, I had to admit I didn’t blame her. Hell, if the roles were reversed for some reason and I was teasing and playing with her body I damn sure would be turned on by it. I’d have been far more upset if she had been indifferent, it occurred to me.

“Would you do something about it for me?” she asked, albeit a little sheepishly.

I was still recovering from my turmoil of frustration and intense arousal; so I wasn’t thinking clearly when I said, “What do you mean?”

Then she really shocked me, “Will you make me cum?”

“Sally, doesn’t that seem a bit unfair? Here I am all horny and frustrated and knowing I can’t cum for another five days and you want me to make you cum!” I was overreacting, but I also wasn’t thinking quite straight either.

Once more Sally used her completely reasonable tone to make me realize I was being a jerk “Joel, how often have I given you a hand job or even a blow job when you were horny and I wasn’t really in the mood? How many times have I been left high and dry when it’s been a while since we’ve made love and you are so horny you shoot before I can cum? And then I end up waiting until the next night often. Hmm, how about all those times!” She was actually getting a bit peeved at my attitude I could see.

And I have to admit I didn’t blame her. Everything she had said was true. I could never remember a single time before this where any sexual encounter between us didn’t end up with me getting to cum. However there had certainly been many, many times that Sally didn’t cum, as she had just pointed out!

“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it. “It’s just that this is much harder than I imagined it was going to be.”

This made her giggle, as she reached over and gave my still rock hard cock a couple of gentle strokes, “Yes, it’s harder than I imagined too!”

We both laughed and I pulled her down so we were lying side by side on the bed, hugging. I kissed her deeply and she sighed. I slid down a bit and started to lick and suck her nipples (which she loves) while I snaked my hand into her crotch and started to gently finger her.

Her pussy was absolutely sopping. It wasn’t long before she was moaning and humping against my hand. She took my head in her hands and almost whispering, said, “Use your tongue on me, please!”

If I’d been surprised at her earlier, I was astounded now. First, while we both enjoy it when I go down on her, I don’t think she had EVER suggested it before this. Usually I have to almost talk her into it. Secondly, she just never talked that directly about sex before. She had always been pretty docile, letting me take the lead. I was beginning to wonder how much else might change by next Monday.

While I wasn’t about to decline, I realized that burying my nose and tongue in her sweet pussy was going to have me tasting and smelling her musk and was very unlikely to help me calm down from my current state.

Slowly I worked my way down and soon had my head right between her soft white thighs and lapping] away at her very wet cunt. As I was sure it would, my cock, which had started to soften slightly, was now rock hard again and twitching. A steady flow of precum was present as well. Fortunately for my state of mind, it was only a short time before Sally clamped my head with her legs and came very hard.

Good, I thought, now I can start to recover from this evening. Wrong! “Joel, don’t stop yet, please. Give me one more.”

God, the woman was insatiable tonight. I was so turned on I couldn’t help myself. I renewed my licking. It wasn’t nearly as long as I would have expected before she was cumming again. All my instincts were getting ready for me to cum. It was only as she relaxed and I moved to lie down next to her again, that the reality of not cumming tonight swept over me once more.

I groaned softly. Sally was in such a blissful state she didn’t even notice. Sally loves to be cuddled at this time; so I did. Holding her naked body next to mine; having my rock hard cock nestled in the cleft of her nice round ass; and having the taste and smell of her juices all over my face, increased my state of frustration significantly.

Once she was sound asleep I slipped out of bed and cleaned up. It took even longer than the night before to fall asleep.

During the day on Thursday I was very conscious of my aching balls. I’ve heard all the debates about whether there is really such a thing as blue balls, etc. etc. And I don’t remember anything like this even back when I was a teenager, but I was now positive, blue balls are real!

By the time I got home that evening it was late and I was tired. It had been a very long day at work. I wasn’t looking forward to what was to come at bedtime. Sally was once again in a very cheerful mood. She seemed to have a sense of the difficulty I was having with this. She was fixing me a very nice dinner, one of my favorites. When I walked in she poured me a glass of wine and insisted that I sit down and relax by watching the baseball game. Sally has her own career, so normally we share the household chores especially shopping, cooking and cleaning up. Not to mention the kids. This would be a good point to mention that the kids were on a two-week vacation with Sally’s folks, and so at least they were temporarily removed from the equation.

I was grateful for the break and didn’t argue. Right before dinner was ready Sally came into the family room and started to give me a neck rub. That is something I love, and at which she is excellent, but we rarely have time for it. As she rubbed, she spoke softly and said, “I know this is harder than you thought. I have an idea for tonight that should make it easier for you and still accomplish the objective. I’ll explain after dinner.”

That sounded good, and we enjoyed a nice meal together talking about work stuff. A little earlier than our normal bedtime Sally said, “Let’s go to bed.”

I was tired and wasn’t about to argue, and besides I was curious to find out what she had in mind for this evening’s ‘treatment’.

“Joel, I was thinking that giving you hand jobs like I have, causes me to have to stop and do the ball massage while you recover (recover was hardly an accurate description, but I knew what her point was. Suggesting she just let me rest during those times would have been a waste of breath I knew.) Then the whole thing lasts much longer and is harder on you than it has to be. So, I thought that if I just sucked and licked you for a straight 20 minutes it wouldn’t be quite so difficult for you. I think I can do it so that you get enough stimulation, but I won’t have to take breaks. Do you think that would be better or worse for you?” Sally asked in a manner that indicated she really was trying to help.

I was uncertain how to respond. Sally didn’t perform oral sex on me often, but when she did it was fantastic. Not that I was that experienced, but she gave blow jobs the likes of which I had never even thought possible. I wasn’t sure that would make this evening’s treatment easier to take, however. But a total of 20 minutes versus the nearly 40 minutes each of the previous three nights did seem like an improvement. I hesitantly agreed.

“I think it will be better too, if you lick me after rather than before. Licking my pussy always makes you so horny, and that will just increase your frustration during the session,” Sally said, as if me burying my face in her snatch and licking her to orgasm was a foregone conclusion. Evidently for her it was!

So we began, and for the next 20 minutes Sally licked and sucked my cock in a way even more maddening than the stroking of the previous nights. I was regretting the choice I’d made. She sucked me deep and slow at first and soon had me right on the edge of cumming. Then she would take my cock out of her mouth and lick my most sensitive spots for a while, holding me right on that edge, but not pushing me over. She would alternate that with treating the head of my cock like an ice cream cone. Finally when I was just about to explode she would let me “cool down” by just licking up the shaft, mostly on the sides. As soon as she could sense that my orgasm had retreated a bit she would start all over with the deep sucking. And rather than avoiding the intermittent ball massage during her breaks, she was doing it the entire time! I was nearly frantic by the time the 20 minutes were up and aching and throbbing worse than before. I’m not sure if that was due to the techniques she had employed or just that it had been one more torturous day since I came last. She had pushed me right to the edge at least six times I think, although I actually had lost count.

They stayed that way a while. The queen’s breathing slowed. Liquid dribbled down her thighs.

The guard was blissfully happy. He wished to stay that way forever, but he knew it was a bubble, an eggshell, an illusion.

He used the edge of his white tunic to wipe himself.

The queen crumpled to the floor. “What a price to pay for a moment from the past,” she said bitterly.

“You’re sorry again?”

Yes. Desperately sorry. Ashamed and defiled. It meant nothing, you know.”

“Just like the last time. Maybe you think you lied, but the truth came out of your mouth. Meant nothing? You know of my love, I loved you and I took you, and in the middle of it, you said you were mine– so, meaning or not, your words now echo through the universe. The stars have heard that you are mine! And just like the last time, your master is very, very pleased with you.”

She reflexively kicked out at him, her face an elegant snarl of hatred. “Dog,” she spat. “You have also heard me say I live only to kill you! Hear this, dog, lest there be any further mistake! I swear by the star Clarion, and by my mother’s blood, that I will kill you before–”

He pounced on her, grabbed her head and smothered her mouth with his hands. “Don’t say it!” he commanded.

Her eyes were triumphant.

“Don’t say it! I forbid it!”

“I’ve sworn,” she said, and he could make out the words beneath his hand. He released her.

“You are not a free woman to so bind yourself! Your master disallows it!” He glared down at her, and spoke sternly. “By the law, you don’t have the power. Only the Emperor or I can bind you.”

She said, “You are not my master, you are my servant. You swore your life to me, never me to you. That bastard never had any legal authority over me. Has the representative of my family ever surrendered us to him? No. We are merely prisoners.”

“Prisoners can be sold as slaves, and you have been.”

“I must consult with my lawyer on a tricky point like that,” she said airily, and sank back into her ice cube persona, despite her nakedness and her humiliating seat on the floor. A true queen could carry off regal scorn even in such a position.

That was another thing. He had truly loved that evil, wicked, high-spirited and magnificent woman– just the way she was. He might break her, and believed he could, but did he want her broken?

“So be it,” the guard said, and got up and walked off.

So be what? The queen lifted herself from the floor and cursed her weak body. She felt the sticky remains of him between her legs, and hated him, and yet– she had indeed enjoyed that.

The soft bed invited her. She sat down on it. She couldn’t lie back, and she was weary of lying on her front. She was sure her face was puffy and her eyes a mess, but there was no mirror nearby, and she lacked energy to go looking for one.

When he came back, she was still sitting, naked, forlorn, on the edge of the bed.

He was wearing his dress uniform and tall boots. He had put it on to give himself strength. That was how he would look if he went to arrest and execute someone of high rank. He just couldn’t do what he was going to do next, dressed up as a slave boy.

The queen laughed. “You, too?”

“This has always been our walking-out uniform. It’s very similar to the Navy’s”

She said doubtfully, “I’ve never seen it before.”

“You have seen it before. You just didn’t regard us. We were scenery, or furnishings, to you.”

She scoffed.

His stride didn’t falter. He picked her up by the armpits, picked her up and threw her face-down across the bed. He planted the sole of his boot on one of her soft buttocks, and shook out the whip.

The queen only had time to gasp in fear before the first stripe fell, hitting right in the middle of the previous night’s work. She arched up from the bed with a scream so sharp and loud that her throat tore and the sound broke. Another blow. Droplets of blood flecked across the satin coverlet. Sudden desperation gave her coherence: “Please! No!”

“No?” he questioned, in a cold voice.

“Master!” she cried out. “Mercy!”

“Mercy. From–?”

“Your woman. Your slave!”

He didn’t move. He stayed right where he was, the whip half-cocked in the air, his foot steady, pressing down. The queen relaxed a little, and burst into tears.

He let her cry. It looked real. Her terrified, agonized sobbing felt real under his foot. She cried as if her life was lost, and that was the way he wanted it. Was it real?

“Slave?” he said.

“Yes, master,” she gasped. “Your humble slave.”

“You belong to me!”

“Have mercy on that which belongs to you!”

“All right,” he said. He threw the whip to the floor in disgust. “Until the next time. Perhaps you’ll wait until you heal before you defy me again. Sit up!”

She stayed where she was, sobbing, indulging herself to the full in un-queenly tears to the generous dampening of the satin.

He kicked her rump hard, making sure she felt the sharp metal on his boot-heel. “Already? It didn’t take long to disobey!” He stooped to retrieve the whip.

She sat up fast, and looked at him with fear from her sitting position. “I have obeyed!”

“You had to think about it! You obeyed on your own schedule! That’s not good enough!”

He swiped the whip almost playfully across her face. It caught her across the cheek despite the hand she quickly raised.

She was magnificent, naked and fearful, on a rumpled satin bed with her black hair draped all around her.

She stayed still, looking at him, watching for a cue, waiting for instructions. Eager to please. The red mark glowed from her milk-white cheek.

He didn’t move, and she didn’t move, and the beautiful moment stretched on.

He dropped the whip again. “I hate it,” he announced. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you. I love you.”

She didn’t move.

“Tell me you love me!”

“I love you,” she said.

Her voice was clear and steady. Was it a lie? Was it compliance? It was music to his ears, and he knew he was a fool, as she’d called him.

“Is it true?” Further hopeless foolishness.

“Yes,” she said, and with the word she quivered. He could see the muscle spasm that ran through her body, how her gut clenched in reaction to it. She had stopped crying, but when she spoke the truth, two huge crystal tears dripped from her eyes.

The guard watched them trickle down her cheeks, and didn’t dare to do or say anything. He felt the future as fragile in his hand as one of those tears. There was suddenly a great weariness. He couldn’t stand much more of this. The woman was older and smarter than he was, and might conquer him yet.

Her ruby lips moved, and he watched them. “A boon, master,” she spoke.

Her voice was sweet. He had never heard her speak in a sweet voice before.

“Anything,” he said. Anything? If she asked for her freedom, would he let her go free? If she desired his death, would he kill himself?

“Please don’t tell anyone?”

It was a pathetic, humble request. It was the last straw.

“I swear it,” he said. “As I am your master. You are humbled only for me.”

“I want nothing to do with the new ruler. Will you tell the world I’ve died?”

Temptation, like a jewel left unguarded before him. She was fully submitted. He could see it in her eyes, in her posture. He could keep her in this harem with robots to guard her, and he could visit her and be happy with her. He might stay here himself, and be happy all the rest of his days, forsaking the world and its shams. They could live on love and grow old together.

Possible?

Or he was a fool.

“No,” he said. “You must swear an oath to the Emperor. That’s the ultimate goal. You may not live except as a true subject of my sovereign. Or I’d be breaking my own oaths.”

She thought about it. Her arched eyebrows lifted, flew there for a while, questioning, but she didn’t say anything.

She twitched and glanced back, bothered by a tickle of running blood. When she reached her hand around to feel herself, her fingers came back bloody. She looked at the blood, then looked up, and the guard met her eyes.

He said, “My life is yours for the commanding. We could live together. I could make love to you. Gentle love, with my body devoted to your pleasure.”

“Could we do that,” she said, and he felt the icy undercurrent.

“The choice is up to you.”

She let her head droop, and used her hands to keep her hair in front of her so it didn’t get to her bloody back. “Master, I hunger.”

“Answer me first. I’m love-sick and weary of waiting for you.”

Her head sank a little more.

He stalked back to her, grabbed her chin in his hand and tipped her face up to look at him. “Answer me, now!” he barked.

“I always answered you readily enough before,” she said, but the words lacked sting. And when she said, “You are young and impatient,” the tone was admiring rather than scornful, and a smile curved her lips.

“Yes, or no!” He shook her.

She allowed him to shake her without resistance. She was smiling now. “Yes,” she said.

He released her, stepped back in shock.

“Yes!” she said again, in tones of surprise. “Silly boy! Master, please give me your hand to kiss!”

He was wary this time, not wanting a finger bitten off, perhaps. He put out his hand, but felt that the situation was out of his hands.

The queen received the hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips. She breathed on it, deliberately warming the back of his knuckles with her breath. She kissed him twice, then added a drift of wet tongue, licking him gently to taste the spice of his skin. She ran her tongue down the side of his middle finger, then put his fingertip into her mouth and sucked.

The guard didn’t know if he’d be able to stand up. His knees were weak, and his blood all in his penis.

The queen’s sweet smile curved, and her eyes shot silver fire from beneath her lashes. She said, “It is a better fate than the dungeon.”

Tags: Fetish, Story