Stroke for Me

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, phone on speaker. My voice comes through, low and calm, the same way it always does when I decide to take control of your cock.

“Take your clothes off. All of them. I want you completely naked and already starting to get hard for me.”

You obey. The cool air hits your skin. Your cock twitches as it starts to fill out.

“Good. Now sit back against the headboard, legs spread. I want your balls and that pretty hole on display even if you’re not touching them yet. Wrap your hand around your cock — not too tight. Just hold it. Feel how warm it is in your palm.”

You grip yourself. Already heavier than a minute ago.

“Start stroking. Slow. Long strokes from the base all the way up to the head. Twist your wrist a little when you reach the tip. Yeah… just like that. I want you to feel every inch of your own cock while I talk to you.”

You follow. The slow drag of your hand makes your stomach tighten.

“Spit in your hand. Get it wet. I want to hear how sloppy it sounds when you stroke. Louder. Good boy.”

The wet sound fills the room every time your fist slides up and down.

“Faster now. Not too fast — medium. I want you leaking before I let you do anything else. Keep going. Don’t you dare speed up unless I say.”

You obey, breathing getting heavier.

“Rub your thumb over the head every few strokes. Smear that precum around. I know you’re already dripping. Tell me how wet the head is.”

You answer, voice rough. I laugh softly.

“Pathetic. Already leaking like a needy slut and I’ve barely started. Squeeze the base of your cock hard for ten seconds. Don’t stroke — just squeeze. Feel how full your balls are getting.”

You do it. Your cock throbs angrily in your grip.

“Release. Now stroke again — faster this time. Grip tighter. I want it to feel like a real pussy clenching around you. Imagine it’s my cunt you’re fucking instead of your fist. Tight. Wet. Gripping you every time you thrust up into your hand.”

Your hips start moving on their own, fucking your fist while I keep talking.

“Stop. Hands off. Right now.”

You groan but obey. Your cock stands straight up, twitching, shiny with spit and precum.

“Breathe. Don’t touch it. Watch it pulse. I want you aching. Tell me how badly you want to stroke again.”

You beg. I let you suffer for a few more seconds.

“Alright. Lube. Get two fingers slippery. Reach down and rub them against your hole while you stroke your cock again. Slow circles. Don’t push in yet — just tease it. I want you feeling slutty while you jerk off for me.”

You do it. The double sensation makes your cock leak even more.

“Push one finger inside. Just the tip. Fuck yourself slowly with it while you stroke. In and out. Match the rhythm. Good. Add a second finger when you’re ready. Stretch that greedy hole while you fuck your fist.”

Your breathing is ragged now. You’re close. I can hear it.

“Mistress— I’m gonna— fuck— I think I’m—”

I make you edge three more times — bringing you to the absolute limit, then making you stop completely, hands off, cock twitching and angry while you breathe through it. By the last one your voice is wrecked and your thighs are shaking.

“Last one. This time when I let you come, you’re going to do exactly what I say.”

You’re panting, desperate.

“Stroke. Fast and tight. I want you right on the edge in thirty seconds. When you’re there, tell me.”

You do it. It doesn’t take long.

“Now. Keep stroking. Don’t stop. I want you to come hard for me. Shoot it all over your stomach and chest. Make a fucking mess. Keep stroking through it — I want every drop milked out while you’re still sensitive.”

You explode with a broken moan, cum shooting in thick ropes across your abs and chest. You keep stroking like I told you, even when it becomes too much, forcing every last spurt out until you’re whimpering and overstimulated.

“Stop. Hands off. Look at the mess you made.”

You stare down at the cum streaked across your skin, cock still twitching.

“Rub it into your skin. All of it. I want you smelling like your own cum while you come down.”

You do it, breathing hard.

“Good boy. Very good. Now lie there and don’t move. I want you to stay messy and used for a few minutes. Breathe. You did well for me.”

My voice softens just a little at the end.

“When you’re ready, clean up and text me how hard you came. I want details.”