This past weekend, the spawn was staying with family, so Kazander and I had the house to ourselves. Which is a rare enough occurrence that we wanted to take advantage of it.
I spent a big chunk of the morning and early afternoon teasing him and doing some light play, but the interesting thing happened when we decided to take a shower together.
I’d planned to make him cum in the shower, but when he got close, he fell into one of his old habits. He moved away and said, “Wait, I don’t want to cum yet.”
It’s something that never fails to annoy me, and I usually launch into the same, tired reminder that he doesn’t get to make that decision, he doesn’t get to dictate to me when he cums, and he should be grateful I was in a nice enough mood to allow it in the first place.
We have gone round and round and round with this. Depending on my mood and the day I’ve had, it’s gotten to the point now where it’s enough to quash my libido and make me completely uninterested in touching him for the rest of the day.
So that spike of annoyance ran through me, and I opened my mouth to voice my frustration.
But then, I had a different idea.
“Alright,” I said. “Well come here, I want to edge you again.”
I made him bathe me in the shower, then I bent him over and fingered him while edging him two more times.
We got out of the shower and got dressed. I made him edge again just before we had to go over and spend some time with the family next door.
About half an hour into the visit, I pulled out my phone and texted him.
“Go home and edge again.”
After dinner, we went back home and binge-watched a TV show together. And at the end of every episode, he had to edge twice.
I think it was around Edge #12 or so that he figured out what I was doing.
“I should’ve just kept my mouth shut,” he groaned as he squirmed on the couch after yet another edge, his cock throbbing.
“Oh?” I asked. “Did that end up being a bad idea?”
“A little bit.”
“I’m glad you think so. Edge again.”
He sighed, there was just the slightest hesitation, and then he reluctantly reached down to bring himself to an edge again.
Another five or so edges later, he was frantic and desperate, the begging almost constant. He kept trying to bribe me to let him cum, and he got a fantastic refresher course on just how relentless I can be.
Another five or so edges later, he couldn’t stop writhing even between edges, absently humping the couch, needing constant reminders not to touch himself. At one point, I tied his hands to keep them off his cock.
“Please, Mistress,” he begged, his voice strained as I reached down to edge him again. “I’ll do anything.”
“I’m sorry, I messed up.”
“Is that so?”
“I won’t do it again, I promise.”
“I almost believe you. Now hush, I think I can get a few more out of you.”
But the time I finally let him have a ruined orgasm, I was half expecting him to start crying. But even with not having much relief from all the edging, he was more than happy to not touch his penis for the rest of the night. And he was decidedly more well-behaved.
We played a bit tonight, and again, I decided to let him cum relatively quick. But interestingly enough, this time there was no moving away or protesting or telling me he didn’t want to cum yet.
Afterward, I asked him about it, and he said he almost did, more out of habit than anything. But then, he remembered the way it felt this weekend, and thought better of it.
So yeah, I think that’ll be a much more effective way to break him of that habit. Way better than spanking him or scolding him.
It’s not a traditional punishment, per se, but it worked pretty damn well. Yet another useful little tool to put in my tool belt.