I can’t believe how hard I am inside this tiny cage. I can’t believe I’m ten days from smashing through last year’s record.
I can’t believe she’s talking about moving the goalposts or expectation. That tease and denial is to be my pleasure. That the intense edges are what I should expect as gifts. Orgasms aren’t being discussed except as a mental break from this daily insanity.
I’ve checked my journal entries. I have had a journal entry for nearly each day over the last two months. She’s been keeping me completely enthralled.
I’ve gotten lots of ruined orgasms. Now she’s counting the drops. “Just one drop.” “But you came. You spilled four or five drops”
She calls any spurt an orgasm. Even if I’m completely untouched during them.
I’m going insane in this Contender cage. I feel no pain but it is gripping me fiercely.
I’m a mess of precum.
I love her. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to crash.
I should be glad to be locked most of the time and edged nearly every day. And I am. But
Damn. This is difficult.