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say you could!”
    “But I’m really close. Your hand feels so good. Please, Goddess?” he asked again. “Please?”
    “No, slut!” I abruptly stopped rubbing him. His hips strained for my hand.
    “Oh, please, Goddess,” he begged some more.
    I reached for the plug in his ass and took it out with a disgusting pop. EW! Not the cleanest thing I’ve ever seen, and stinky too.
    “Look at you, slut!” I scolded him. “You’re a dirty, disgusting, shitty mess. How dare you come here in such a state?”
    “I’m sorry, Goddess, but that has been in there for a couple of hours now. It's bound to be a little disgusting at this point.” He laughed a little with embarrassment.
    I reached over to my so-called bag of tricks and pulled out a pink vibrator that had a bulbous end that curved up. It was meant to hit a woman’s G-spot. I figured what was good for the goose was good for the gander, r ight?
    I turned it on and lubed it up. I pushed it into his ass and I thought the top of his head was going to blow off! He immediately started to groan and gyrate.
    “Oh my fucking God, Goddess!”
    (Wait… should I slap him for that? Shouldn’t it be, “Oh my G oddess, Goddess?” I would have to decide on that later…).
    He panted as he said, “I have never felt anything like that! It is hitting my prostate perfectly. Holy shit! That feels so good!”
    Things started to get really messy at that point. I stroked him with my gloved hand and fucked him with the vibrator at the same time. He could barely control himself.
    “Goddess, may I cum? Oh my God!” he yelled.
    “No, slut!” I hit his dick again.
    “Goddess, please! I beg you! I can’t hold it any longer!” Just then he erupted and spewed like a volcano.
    I abruptly stopped all contact with him in hopes it would ruin his orgasm, but he was too far gone with that vibrator up his ass. Damn it!
    He panted and attempted to regain his breath, his chest heaving as he remained held down by his restraints, his stomach covered in a sticky mess.
    I got up and walked over to my freshly cleaned kitchen and picked up a spoon, then returned to Sam on the table. I scra ped the cum off of his stomach with the spoon and then shoved it in his mouth. “That’s for cumming without permission, loser.”
    He gagged on his own man juice. It was disgusting to watch, but it was a necessary measure to take for training purposes. He had to learn that his orgasm was not his anymore and that if he wanted that pleasure, he would have to pay for it.
    I unstrapped him and he sat up. He looked as fresh as a daisy! It was if he had been in a deep sleep. He’d reached a very intense sub-space and I had caused it. Success!
    I had no more use for him, so I dismissed him. He thanked me for my training and asked if he could come back. I told him I’d think about it. He left as naked as he had arrived, butt plug in hand.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
     
    Maybe I should tell you about how I got to this place in my life. I wasn’t always throwing pussy to the wind. I was married to a man named Harry for several years and lived with him for several more prior to our signing the paperwork. He was reluctant to g et married as this was going to be his second marriage. He was happy with us just living together, but I was all: “I feel like I’m the only woman in the world who isn’t married. It makes me feel like an unwanted toy alone on a shelf!” I had no idea where that image came from. I blamed it on the “crazies” that women go through in their thirties.
    Being a woman in her thirties sucks. They’re supposed to have everything all planned and happening. You know, kids, husband, house, and job. It blows. At least in m y humble experience it does, and I found that a woman in her thirties goes a little nuts. A wash of panic colors her every move. “Is that him? Did I just pass ‘the one’ in the Tampax isle while searching for a douche?” or “Shouldn’t I be happier?” or