Bound & Edged [30M] [27F] [Denial] [Blindfolded] [Bondage]
The morning light was soft and gray through the cabin windows, but you still couldn’t see it. The blindfold remained in place. Your wrists were now tied together in front of you, loose enough to move a little, but not enough to free yourself. Your ankles were still spread and secured to the bottom corners of the bed, keeping your legs wide open.
The thick plug was still buried deep inside you, keeping every drop of his cum locked in your denied cunt.
You had barely slept.
Every time you started to drift off, the ache between your legs pulled you back — throbbing, full, desperate. The plug shifted with every tiny movement, pressing against your walls and reminding you exactly how stuffed and denied you were.
You heard his footsteps approaching the bed.
He didn’t speak at first. Just sat on the edge of the mattress and ran a slow hand up your inner thigh.
“Still plugged?” he asked quietly, almost gently.
You nodded, biting your lip.
He gave the base of the plug a firm tap, making it shift inside you. A broken whimper escaped before you could stop it.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “You kept my cum inside all night like I told you to.”
He climbed onto the bed and settled between your spread legs. You felt the heat of his body, the weight of him.
Then his fingers were on the plug.
He slowly pulled it out — inch by inch — until it left your body with a wet pop. Immediately, a thick trickle of his cum began to leak from your stretched hole.
He watched it for a moment, then pushed two fingers inside you, scooping his own release and pushing it back in.
“Not yet,” he said calmly. “You’re not empty until I say so.”
He replaced the plug with something even thicker — his cock. He slid in slowly, filling you again in one long, smooth thrust until he was buried to the hilt.
You moaned softly.
He stayed perfectly still inside you.
“No moving,” he ordered. “No clenching. No trying to cum.”
He leaned down, chest against yours, and simply held himself deep inside your cum-filled cunt.
For long minutes, he didn’t thrust.
He just stayed there, letting you feel every inch of him, every throb, every drop of his previous load mixing with the new warmth of his cock.
“You’re going to stay like this for a while,” he whispered. “Full. Plugged by my cock. Denied.”
His hand slid up to your throat again, resting there possessively.
“Every time you get close… I stop.
Every time you whimper too loudly… I pull out and make you wait longer.”
He gave one single, slow grind of his hips — just enough to make you gasp.
“And if you’re very, very good and stay silent and desperate for me… maybe later today I’ll pull out and fill you with one more load.”
He kissed your blindfolded forehead almost tenderly.
“But until then… you’re just my warm, denied little cumslut.”
He stayed buried deep inside you, completely still again.
The long, slow torture of the second day had begun.