Pleasurekitten
Registered User
- Joined
- Jan 26, 2015
- Messages
- 6
- Points
- 13
"Just Say It, Baby"
A reverse harem clit (and asshole) tickle torture, edging and denial story MMMM/F
Her mouth was already full when she woke up. Gagged. Stuffed. A thick black silicone bit strapped between her lips, forcing her jaw wide, locking her tongue down in a gag-slick prison. Saliva soaked the corners of her mouth. She could only grunt, whimper, breathe through her nose—and even that trembled with each uneven pant. Her vision was blurry, head swimming, body spread wide on the padded X-frame, arms above, legs far apart, every limb strapped into place with velvet-lined leather.
She was completely stripped naked. Every soft, squirming inch laid bare beneath the glow of soft overhead lights and four watching men.
And one of them was already kneeling between her thighs.
Elias. The cold one. The scientist. And he was staring directly at her clit like it was something that had insulted him personally.
“Mmngggh—!” she tried, shaking her head.
“No, no, sweetheart,” Elias said, not even touching her yet. “You don’t get to talk. But we’ll pretend you can. That’s half the fun.”
Lucien, lounging at her left side, leaned down and whispered right next to her ear.
“She’s awake,” he purred. “Good morning, fucktoy.”
Kade was at her right, gently brushing her forearm, crooning: “Hey baby. You remember the safe word?”
“Mmphh!”
“Mmhm,” Lucien nodded. “That’s right. Just say it, and we’ll stop.” They all laughed cruelly.
Rhys stood behind her, massive, silent, his calloused fingers trailing the strap that held her left ankle wide open. Then lower. Then to the inside of her thigh. Then to— Her clit.
Already swollen. Already puffed, even before they started.
The spreader kept her gaped, labia peeled apart, pussy lips stretched wide so every shiver of air hit the helpless little nub at the top. It had already begun to tremble.
“So sensitive already,” Elias murmured. “Is she excited? Or afraid?”
“She’s gagged,” Kade smiled. “Does it matter?”
Lucien produced a brush. Long, soft. A fine horsehair painter’s tool. He leaned between her legs and ever so lightly drew it down the inside of her thigh.
“Let’s see if this little thing here,” he whispered, “wants to come out and play.”
The brush kissed the edge of her clit. She bucked.
It was so light. So barely there—and yet her whole body jerked against the cuffs. Her gag muffled a sudden moan.
“Was that a moan or a protest?” Elias asked.
“Mmmn—mphh!”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Lucien snickered. “She could tell us... If she really wanted to."
Elias held up a bottle of menthol lube. He squirted a single bead on her clit.
She shrieked into the gag. Her thighs tensed.
“Poor baby,” Kade crooned, tracing her ribs with his fingernails. “All you have to do is say the safe word. That’s all.”
“Mmphh! Mmmngh!!”
“...what’s that? You can’t?”
Elias pressed two vibrators to her clit. One above. One below. He didn’t turn them on yet.
“Not yet,” he said. “We’ll let her feel the pressure first.. let the intensity of what's going to happen to her build."
Lucien’s paintbrush delicately circled her clit now, flicking the menthol bead in delicate, cruel swirls.
It pulsed. It twitched. Her clit looked like it was breathing.
“That little nub’s got stage fright,” Lucien murmured. “Should we encourage it?”
“On three,” Elias said. “One. Two. Three.”
Click. The vibrators came to life. Low. Slow, a barely there buzz. She screamed into the gag.
Part 2: Clit on Trial
Bzzzzzzzz... The sound was low, but the sensation was earth-shattering.
The twin vibrators pressed gently on either side of her clit, one against the top, the other cupping underneath. The pressure was so delicate. Too delicate. Not enough to satisfy. But enough to awaken every ruined nerve inside that tiny, flushed bead of over-sensitive meat.
Her clit twitched like it was being tickled from inside.
It burned. It begged. It throbbed—not like part of her body anymore, but like a small, panicking creature trapped between soft rubber and steel. Elias adjusted the spreader again. One more crank.
Click. Her lips peeled wider.
Her clit became fully visible now—no hood, no cover, nothing to hide behind. Red, puffed, quivering.
“Ooh look at it,” Lucien said with something like awe, dragging the feather end of his brush around it. Not on it—around it. Never touching, just threatening.
Kade leaned forward, murmuring in her ear, soft as silk. “You feel that, baby? That little twitch every second? That’s your clit trying to run away... But she can't, can she?"
Rhys added pressure to her thighs, holding them wider with those massive hands. Then his finger found the very base of her pussy—right at the rim—and began rubbing slow, lazy circles.
“She’s wet,” he rumbled. “Fingers?” Elias nodded.
Rhys slid one thick finger inside. Then two.
Then curved them, finding her g-spot instantly and stroking painstakingly slowly. Shllick. Shllick. Shllick.
Kade giggled at her whimper. “Poor slut. Can’t say the word, can’t say stop, can’t say please harder—and we can tell her clit is just about right there on the edge.”
“Want us to stop?” Lucien cooed, painting her lower belly in swirling wet feather strokes. “Then say the word, baby.”
“Mmhgghhh—mhhmm—!”
All she could do was scream into the gag. And her clit screamed louder.
Elias leaned in. “It’s puffing up.” He wasn’t wrong.
The nub was furious now. Swollen nearly double in size, bulging out as the vibrators pressed in, the menthol soaked in deeper, the brush stroked circles around it, swirling around her mound whispering by the base of her clit without mercy.
“She's drooling,” Lucien said, licking the saliva off her chin. He gently kissed the side of her mouth. “Everywhere. Look at that tongue twitching under the gag.” Rhys kept pumping her g-spot. Her hips started grinding.
Kade kissed her temple. “All you have to do is say it.”
“C’mon,” Lucien added, voice sugary and cruel. “Say the word, sweetheart. Otherwise we'll keep it up."
But the gag stayed in. And the clit kept suffering.
Part 3: The Clit's Betrayal
She was right there.
Her hips had started rocking on their own. Rhys’ fingers curled with perfect precision, dragging pressure along her g-spot in a constant wave. The pads of his fingers pushed up while her soaked **** clung and fluttered around him. Wet sounds filled the room—slippery, obscene. And he pressed down gentle, firm pressure to her lower abdomen.
Lucien’s brush finally touched her clit. Just a whisper of contact. A flick.
“Did you feel that?” Kade crooned. “That was nothing. Just a taste.”
Elias watched the screen—yes, they were monitoring her clit’s pulse. Her heart rate. Her contractions.
“She’s climbing,” he said. “Right to the edge.”
Lucien tapped her clit again. Feather-light.
Her scream echoed behind the gag. “MmmMGHHH!!”
“Ready to come?” Kade asked, cupping her flushed cheek. “Is that what your little clit is begging for?”
She nodded frantically. Helpless. Desperate. Pleading.
“Too bad.”
Elias turned the vibrators off with a devastating click.
Her clit throbbed violently, once. And then she came anyway.
Her body snapped. Her thighs clamped down against the restraints, her back arched, and her pussy gushed, squirting hard from a ruined orgasm clenching against Rhys' stilled fingers buried deep in her ****. Her clit convulsed in the open air—no pressure, no vibration, nothing—just pulsing, alone, betrayed, screaming in silence begging for more stimulation to help it ride the orgasmic wave.
The men froze. Kade broke it first, laughing softly. “Oh, no.”
Lucien clapped once. “Naughty girl.”
Elias stood up, walked between her legs, and crouched. “Your clit disobeyed.”
“Mmmmnnnhhh—!”
“That was a bad orgasm, slut. And now? You’re going to pay.”
Rhys withdrew his fingers. Slowly. Wiped them across her trembling belly.
Lucien took the brush and dipped it in ice water. And pressed it to the center of her freshly orgasmed clit. Her scream could have shattered several windows.
The clit spasmed, puffed even larger, like it was physically trying to pull away from the stimulation. The menthol had dried, but the ice reawakened it. The brush dragged a circle. Then another.
Then a flick. “Did you like sneaking a cum?” Elias whispered. “Do you think you’re in control?”
Kade grabbed her jaw and squeezed gently. “Use your words, baby.”
Lucien laughed. “Oh wait. You can’t.”
Then Elias brought out the clamp.
A soft, rubber-lined ring with a tension dial. He opened it wide.
“Did you enjoy that orgasm baby?" Rhys asked. "I hope it was worth it... because here comes punishment time for your poor little naughty clit.”
He placed it at the base of her still-spasming clit. It twitched, visibly. He tightened it. Slowly. One twist. Two.
Her legs shook. Then he attached the micro pinpoint vibrator—inside the clamp resting gently on her clitoral head.. And turned it on. Bzzzzzzzz... her clit screamed.
Part 4: The Itch That Screams
Her clit twitched constantly now—each pulse a desperate cry, each throb a white-flag she couldn’t raise.
The clamp held it in place, the vibrator humming inside it like a tiger’s purr. The menthol was still lingering deep in her skin, tingling every nerve like static.
But Elias had taken the brush away. Now, he used his breath.
He leaned in close—so close his exhale danced across the underside of her ruined little bud. The moment the warm air hit it, the clit jumped visibly. Not just a twitch, but a full-body flinch that rattled the frame.
And he didn’t touch her. He just whispered. “You feel that?” Another puff of air. “Poor little clit’s so needy now. I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?” Huff. “Bet you’d do anything for another flick.”
“Or another orgasm,” Kade added, stroking her arm slowly. “But which would hurt more now? The tease? Or the release?”
Lucien dragged a feather—just the tip—across her belly. Not her clit. Not even her pussy. Just her belly. But it tickled. Made her tense.
Rhys, behind her, slid a cold drop of lube against her asshole. One finger hovered. Just hovering.
“Should we edge her again?” Lucien asked. “Or should we leave her here?”
“Let her hover?” Elias said. “Itching powder?”
“Mnnmmpphh—!” she sobbed at the very thought.
Kade leaned over her ear. “Sweet thing. Just say the word. Say please. Say ‘safeword’ Say ‘enough.’”
But her mouth was gagged, stuffed so tight with her own soaked panties she could only breathe in moans and scream in syllables.
Elias finally lowered the brush again. And touched her clit. Just one flick. She exploded.
The clamp kept it trapped, so the orgasm couldn’t even ripple out right—it compressed, like a spring snapping back into itself, her body jerking so hard it tried to lift off the frame she was bound tightly to.
Her moan was silent now. She couldn’t breathe. Lucien stroked her belly again. “She came without permission again.”
Elias chuckled. “I think we make her stay like this for hours.”
Part 5: Made to Come, Made to Suffer
Elias tightened the clamp one more notch - not nearly enough to induce pain, just a hair tighter. Every crank would make it stand firmer, and pull the pesky clitoral hood back with it.
Her clit bulged between the rubber, purple-pink and trembling, still soaked from the last orgasm. The micro-vibrator mounted in the clamp buzzed on low—steady, cruel, unrelenting.
“She’s oversensitive,” Lucien said, watching the little bud twitch. “I want to break her..”
Kade knelt between her legs. His fingers - at least an extra half the thickness of Rhys' returned to her soaked ****, two sinking in with obscene ease, then three, then four—spreading her open, pressing against that swollen sponge of a g-spot. He began to pump. Not fast. But deep. Measured.
Shlick...shlick...shlick. She cried into the gag.
Her whole body shivered.
Her pussy clenched and pulled at his hand like it was starving for more.
Rhys, silent behind her, dragged a feather between her cheeks. He’d tied a loop of silk around her knees now, forcing them wider, thighs trembling. The feather dipped and flicked at her asshole, soft teasing flicks just to remind her—every hole was his.
“You’re going to come again,” Kade said softly. “We’re going to force your clit to spasm until it can’t anymore.”
“Mmmmnnnghh—!”
“And if you piss yourself?” Lucien murmured. “We won’t stop.”
Elias flicked the vibrator setting up by one level barely noticeable to the untrained eye... Or clit. BZZZZZZZ...
Her clit jumped. Her hips snapped. Her thighs tensed so hard the restraints creaked as Kade added another finger. Four still inside, but now pushing up—massaging the g-spot like it was a trigger.
“You’re leaking,” he said, voice syrupy. “That sweet little pussy is milking my fingers.”
Lucien leaned down to her ear. “Just say the word. Beg us to stop.”
She moaned around the gag, both wanting the torment to stop and continue at the same time. But her clit didn’t care. It throbbed with its own heartbeat. It begged without her.
It was crying in sensation—red, angry, terrified. But every flick of the vibrator forced it closer. And then— “Now,” Elias said. “Let it happen.”
Rhys replaced the feather with a cold, oil-dipped brush. He began painting around her ass in slow figure-eights. Not penetration—just constant sensation. Kade’s fingers curled. The vibrator spiked. And she came. HARD.
A full-body orgasm, ripped from her like a scream in her soul. Her clit spasmed against the clamp, unable to escape. Her pussy squirted again, soaking Kade’s wrist. Her asshole clenched and twitched as Rhys whispered:
“Again.” Kade didn’t stop fingering. Elias stood and watched her, chuckling in appreciation.
Lucien kissed her cheek and said: “Let’s see how many she can take.”
Part 6: No Mercy Punishment
She didn’t come down from the last orgasm. Her body was still jerking when the next wave hit her—slamming through her like a drug overdose, full-body spasms that made her thighs strain at the restraints and her fists clench hard into her bindings. But they didn’t stop.
Because she hadn’t said the safe word. Because she couldn’t.
And because her clit—bloated, raw, trapped in the clamp and still buzzing—was begging for punishment.
Elias turned the micro-vibrator up another notch. BZZZZZZZZZ...
Her clit jerked like it was being electrocuted, visibly twitching in its rubber cage. The menthol oil inside the clamp was seeping deeper now, burning, chilling, every second a contradiction of heat and sting and overwhelming need.
Kade never pulled out. He just kept fingering, deep and slow, curling his hand inside her, knuckles pressing that spongey bundle over and over and over like a pump, while pressing on that spot on her abdomen, forcing her to feel every inch of his thick fingers on her g-spot.
Rhys added a second brush. Now two brushes swirled around her asshole, dipping close, never in—just circling, flicking, mocking. Tickling. Every touch sent new, unbearable sparks across her body.
“Still didn’t say the word,” Lucien purred beside her ear, brushing her sweat-slick cheek. “So we’re going to see how many orgasms that greedy little clit can take.”
“Two so far,” Elias said. “I want five.”
"Why stop at five?" Rhys asked as they all burst into a collectively villianous laugh.
“Mmm—MMHMMMGHH—!!” she screamed into the gag.
Lucien produced a dropper. “Warm oil. Just a bead. Right on top.” Drip. It landed on the tip of her clit like a kiss from the sun.
She exploded... Orgasm #3
Her body shook with gush after gush of fluid pumped from her ****, g-spot convulsing under Kade’s teasing fingers and his firm pressure on her abdomen made her feel every sweeping stroke. Her whole pussy seized and released like a heartbeat.
And they just watched.
“No mercy,” Rhys rumbled, feathers still flicking her tight little ass.
“No pause,” Elias said, twisting the dial again.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ— Her clit was screaming now. Visibly jumping. The nerve was done—but still being forced to come.
Orgasm #4 slammed through her like a train wreck. The gag caught her scream. She pissed herself.
The floor was soaked. Her thighs streamed. She twitched so hard the cuffs bit into her wrists. Still, Kade fucked her gently with his hand.
Still, Elias kept the vibrator running. Still, Lucien flicked her clit with the brush. Orgasm #5 wasn’t a scream. It was a collapse.
Her whole body went limp, trembling, twitching as Lucien leaned in with a tsk, voice soft and cold. “Clit still hasn't learned its lesson.”
Part 7: The Ruining
She was done. Her body said so—shivering, twitching, limp in the restraints. Her thighs were streaked with slick and piss, her belly smeared with lube and tears. Her wrists had gone slack, her fingers barely curling. But her clit?
Still trapped in the clamp. Still buzzing. Still swollen—flush pink, shimmering with a sheen of menthol, lube, oil, and the remnants of every brutal orgasm she’d been forced through.
It twitched once. Then again. Not with pain... The boys seems to know how to skirt around what should have been painful with such immense pleasure. But her clit twitched again... Not with need. With fear.
Lucien leaned close. Brush in hand. “Look at that poor clit,” he whispered like a lover. “It’s not even fighting anymore.”
Kade pulled his fingers from her at last, slick and glistening. “She’s drained. And we’re not even touching her now.”
“She thinks it’s over,” Elias said, crouching at her thighs again. “But we’re going to give her one more. Just one.... maybe.”
“Gentle?” Rhys asked, smiling faintly.
Lucien nodded. “Excruciatingly.”
Elias turned the vibrator off. Her clit relaxed instantly—like it sighed. 20 minutes of rest passed... Then came the brush.
A new one—softest yet. Sable tip. Barely there. Elias held it like a scalpel, and dragged it once—once—across the center of her exposed, clamped bud.
She groaned. Not a scream this time or a cry. A low, guttural, sobbing moan. “MmmmmmMMHNNNNnnnngggh...!”
It rolled from her throat like a body remembering it was alive.
“Feel that?” Kade whispered. “That little twitch?”
“Mmmmmm...”
“20 minutes and her clit’s already begging again,” Lucien said, flicking the brush ever so gently in a circle.
The brush barely stirred the nerves—but that was the torment. Because her clit wasn’t numb. It was sensitive. This was like touching sunburn with silk.
Her body arched. She moaned again. Throatier. Every touch of the brush set off tiny spasms—hips jerking just an inch, legs straining, mouth drooling again behind the gag.
“Still can’t say the word,” Elias cooed.
“She doesn’t want us to stop anymore,” Kade added. They all grinned.
Rhys reached behind her, two fingers pressing lightly on her bladder. Pressure, Soft and Inescapable. Lena moaned louder. “Mmmmmmhnnnnnnnnnnn...!”
“You’re going to piss again,” Lucien whispered in her ear. “You better not, baby." He taunted.
Elias brushed the clit again. Circle. Circle. Tap.
She shuddered. Her belly tensed. The clamp held her in place.
“Cum,” Kade breathed. And she did. Her orgasm poured out of her like a confession.
Her clit pulsed, convulsed, twitched and spasmed—not violently this time. Not forced. Just surrendered. A soft, sobbing orgasm that rippled through her, made her thighs quake, made her belly clench—and made her piss herself.
It ran in a hot gush down her ass and thighs, soaking the velvet. The boys didn’t even flinch. Lucien kissed her cheek.
“Good girl.” Elias removed the clamp. Her clit twitched—once, weakly.
And then Kade brought the collar. Black leather. Gold buckle. No tag. Yet. He buckled it around her throat.
“Now,” he said gently, brushing hair from her face, “what should we make you?”
“Our denial slut?” Lucien mused.
“Our little edge toy?” Elias smiled.
“Just say the word,” Rhys whispered.
But she couldn’t. Because the gag was still in. And they didn’t need her to answer. She belonged to them now. Forever.
Part 8: What it means to belong
Weeks had passed since that first night. The collar never came off. Not for meals. Not for sleep. Not even for the bath. It wasn’t just a symbol—it was a warning. A lock. A promise. A claim stamped in leather and silence.
Her new world was quiet. No voice. No choices.
Every morning, the gag was strapped back in. Bit-style, black silicone, tight enough to press her tongue flat and make drool leak down her chin by the minute. It stayed there until bedtime. She wasn’t allowed to ask for anything.
Tonight, they didn’t take her clitoris out of the cage. Tonight was about internal pressure.
Elias had prepared the ingredients. A custom blend of itching lube—peppermint extract, arnica, and a few other things she wasn’t allowed to know about.
Lucien prepared the brush. Sable. Long-handled. Flexible.
Kade? He knelt between her legs, electric toothbrush in hand, smiling.
Rhys just whispered: "Let’s see if she can still beg with her body.”
They strapped her to the bench this time—knees up, thighs wide, ass tilted forward so every inch of her underside was open and waiting.
Her clit stayed caged. But the skin around it? Not spared.
Lucien dipped the brush in the lube. Slowly, carefully, he began painting it in tight, tiny strokes across her perineum—the soft flesh between her pussy and her tight little asshole.
“Let’s see how she reacts,” he murmured. Stroke. Stroke. Swirl. The lube soaked in. It started tingling. Then itching.
Her whole pelvis twitched. “MmmMMhhhph—!”
“Oh? Is that too tickly?” Kade cooed. He flicked the toothbrush on.
The bristles buzzed gently as he dragged it in slow, teasing spirals across the same spot. The perineum jumped under the pressure, twitching.
She giggled behind the gag. High. Muffled. Squealing. “Tickle tickle tickle,” Lucien grinned.
Elias adjusted the cage’s internal vibe to pulse mode—each five seconds, it would thrum softly once. Zzz...
She squealed again as drool spilled from her gag. Her thighs shook.
The perineum was on fire now. It itched from the lube and buzzed from the toothbrush—every pulse sending new waves of helpless laughter and wetness through her. Her cage pressed in tighter. Her body moved constantly.
Kade reached up and rubbed her belly firmly. “So squirmy.”
Rhys slid a fingertip down her inner thigh. “So wet.”
Lucien painted another coat of lube. “So sensitive.”
"HhhHHNnngh!"
“Did you just moan from your perineum?” Kade teased. “Baby girl, we haven’t even touched your clit.”
“Just say the word,” Elias added.
“Mmmnnmhhhn—!!”
“Didn’t think so.” They kept going. For hours.
Feathers joined in. Another brush. Cooling oil. Tickling every spot but her clit, while the cage teased inside it, that pulsing thrum driving her insane.
She sobbed with laughter. She giggled with tears. She pissed herself again. And still, they whispered: “One more edge.”
Part 9: The Uncaging
A month had passed of her clit caging.. but tonight they decided her sensitivity had been increased tenfold over the last 30 days.
“Ready?” Elias asked, crouched between her trembling thighs.
“MmmMMnnnghh—” she whimpered behind the gag, body shuddering on the bench, thighs roped wide.
Her perineum was twitching, from the earlier torture -- foreplay they'd called it. It was drenched in a mixture of lube and her drooling pussy juices, the electric toothbrush still tracing light, vibrating strokes over the tender, twitchy flesh between her slit and her asshole. The itching hadn’t stopped. The tingling had built into a maddening, ticklish burn that made her laugh behind the gag while also sobbing, hips writhing like she could outrun the sensation.
And now? They were removing the cage. Elias unlatched the chrome with a reverent click. Lucien pulled it off slow.
Her clit emerged like new—furious, flushed, weeping. Engorged. Shiny. The skin throbbed. So sensitive it flinched from the coolness of the air.
“Ohhhhhh, fuck,” Lucien whispered, watching it quiver.
“She’s going to lose her mind,” Kade murmured.
Elias dipped two paintbrushes—ultra-fine—and handed one to Lucien.
They dunked them in the same itching lube used on her perineum. Then touched her clit. Both of them. At once.
Lucien circled the hood while Elias flicked the tip.
The moment contact hit her skin, her entire body arched. “MMMMMMMMMH!!”
A moan exploded out of her gagged mouth. Her clit twitched so hard it looked like it might detach. It was angry—purple, throbbing, burning—and now covered in itching fire. Zzzzz... The toothbrush continued it's torturous buzz.
Rhys held it to her perineum now, pressing just slightly firmer. Her thighs bucked. The combination of itch, vibration, and light touches was unbearable.
“She’s giggling,” Kade whispered, smiling. “But she’s crying, too.”
“She’s twitching like she’s gonna come,” Elias said. “But this clit isn’t coming. Not yet.”
Lucien reached for the pinpoint vibe. Pressed it directly under the clit. And clicked it on. Low. Focused. Gentle. Buzzzzzzzzz...
She screamed as her clit twitched again—spasming like it was begging for release but afraid to come. Especially with this harem's track record of methodical torture. The itching lube had turned the skin into fire. Every feather-light stroke sent her hips jerking.
The brush took place of the vibrator, sliding under the clit, teasing the raw underside.
The vibe flickered, stuttered, pulsed.
The toothbrush teased her backside, stroking unbearable tickles from asshole to perinium. She pissed herself again.
She moaned so hard it broke into muffled laughter—a high, cracked sound of a girl pushed past reason, past pleasure, into blissful insanity. And then—
Kade whispered: “Cum.” And she did.
Her clit detonated, jerking in space, spasming in front of them. Her pussy squirted—long, shuddering pulses soaking the bench. Her belly seized. Her throat sobbed.
The brushes didn’t stop. The vibrations didn’t stop. She came again. And again. Eyes rolling. Gag soaked. Body twitching uncontrollably.
By the time they kissed her face and turned the devices off, her clit was still spasming, involuntarily, twitching like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Lucien whispered: “You’ll be our denial toy forever.” And her clit trembled, as if to say yes.
Epilogue 1: Clit Training Protocol: Week One
She was transferred to the training room. Nothing harsh. Everything soft—cushions, velvet, ambient lighting, silk cuffs instead of leather. But all of it designed for one thing: Restraint.
They kept her gagged and collared.
And every day, she was laid out across the training bench, legs bound wide open, back arched, pussy fully exposed.
The clit cage stayed off now. But her clit wasn’t free. It was on trial.
Kade took lead that first day, crouching at the foot of the bench, gently spreading her lips with gloved fingers while Lucien dipped a sable brush into lavender-infused oil.
“She needs to associate this sensation with obedience,” Elias said calmly, adjusting the monitor that tracked her pelvic twitches and clitoral pulse. Lucien began brushing. Not stroking. Hovering.
A whisper of bristle that didn’t even make full contact—just a kiss of sensation. Her clit twitched.
Rhys placed a feather against her perineum. Slow circles. She moaned into the gag. Already drooling.
“Five minutes of brushing,” Elias said. “No orgasm. She has to learn to absorb.”
The brush danced, bristles gently flicking up, down, across the clit. Never allowing her to get used to one sensation for fear of tipping her over the edge too soon. Her clit puffed up fast—barely touched, yet throbbing, the surface flushed with arousal. Not from pleasure. From anticipation.
“Shhhh,” Kade whispered. “Just let the itch build.”
They turned on the ambient sound: soft moaning. Hers, from earlier sessions. Played back into her ears as psychological edging.
Brush circled. Feather teased. No vibrators yet.
She drooled. Shivered. Hips lifted instinctive. She wanted it.
Lucien leaned in. Breath on her clit. It twitched. Again. Harder.
Elias tapped the screen. “She’s spiking. Cut sensation.”
Everything stopped. She let out a desperate sobbing groan. Then the vibe activated for half a second. Zz— Not enough.
She twitched again. Clit throbbing in the open, slick with oil, quivering.
“She’s learning,” Kade said, smiling. “She knows this isn’t about her coming.”
“It’s about her staying right here,” Lucien added, circling the brush closer to the underside. “Balanced on the knife edge.”
Day Three: Hover Play
They gave her a dildo. Not for pleasure—for obedience. Inserted slowly into her soaked ****, deep, filling, but still.
“No movement,” Rhys said. “You clench, we restart.” Then the brushes returned.
Two now. One for the top of her clit. One under.
Both dipped in cooling oil this time. Not itchy. Just nerve-wakening. Each brush stroke made her **** clench around the toy.
“Restart,” Elias said. They pulled the brushes away.
She whimpered behind the gag. Again. Stroke. Stroke.
Clench. Restart. Again.
By the end of the hour she’d learned to hold still, while her clit twitched and wept, puffy and pink, untouched except by the softest things in the world.
Day Five: Vibrator Conditioning
A new toy. Pulse pad, attached flat to her clit. Warm. Smooth. No clamp this time.
Every five minutes, it pulsed once. If she moaned? Restart.
If she twitched? Restart.
Feathers circled her thighs. Brushes painted her hips.
Nothing on the clit now. Just around. She sobbed. Moaned inside.
Her clit ached, desperate to fire, to seize, to come. She didn’t. And they cooed in her ear:
“Good denial slut. That’s how we train our toy.”
Epilogue 2 - Clit Training, Week Two: The Collapse
She was perfect today.
Strapped down in silk, thighs wide, hips lifted, gag tight and soaked against her lips. Her clit stood proudly—puffed and trembling, freshly oiled, flushed from the buildup of stimulation she hadn’t been allowed to complete in days.
The boys were proud of her. Elias leaned over her chest, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “She’s adapting. Look how quiet her body is.”
Lucien traced her thigh with the tip of his feather pen. “Not even flinching.”
Rhys whispered, “Good. Then we’ll test her.”
Kade? He took the remote. Flicked it to Pulse Mode Alpha. This one was evil. Three pulses to the clit.
One to the g-spot—via a curved internal pad already snug inside her ****. One single buzz across the perineum.
All timed and soft. All staggered and looped.
They activated it. She didn’t flinch.
The clit twitched. But she didn’t groan.
"Good girl." Kade praised. Brushes came next.
Lucien painted a ring of oil around her clit, never on it. Circling the heat, drawing a noose of sensation just outside its swollen perimeter.
The first loop finished.
Buzz...pulse...pulse...stroke...tickle. Still holding. Kade leaned over her mouth. “You want to come, don’t you?”
She moaned around the gag. Lucien’s brush drew one final arc… and tapped the underside of her clit.
Once. Twice. And then— Her hips jerked.
Elias froze. “...wait—”
Pulse. Buzz. Gasp. Then— Release.
It happened instantly. Her pussy clenched the internal toy. Her clit seized, pulsed, fired—
She came. Hard and unexpected, yet unforgivable.
Squirting softly, her steam trickling to the floor tickling between her legs as her body trembled, and she drooled in pleasure moaning into the gag.
And then the brushes stopped and the vibes cut out. But, The gag stayed in.
And the boys? Just stood around her. Watching, Disappointed. Lucien sighed first. “Tsk. You were so close.”
Rhys let out a long, low whistle.
Elias folded his arms. “You blew it.”
Kade crouched at her ear. Whispered. “You know what happens next... little cum slut.”
And her clit? Still twitching and raw was waiting to be punished again.
Forced Training, Zero Release: Session One
She was gagged before she was even conscious. Her usual gag was switched out to a velvet bit-gag. Strapped tight, wedged between her teeth, locking her tongue down. She drooled before she opened her eyes.
“You blew it, baby.” Kade, whispering in her ear as she was strapped to the incline frame. Arms wide, legs higher, tilted so her clit was the highest point of her whole body—exposed, open, vulnerable.
“Now we’re going to teach you what happens when you take what isn’t yours.” Lucien rolled in the cart.
Brushes, Vibrators, Oil, Feathers. All for her. None to satisfy.
They didn’t touch her pussy at first. Just circled it.
Feathers to her inner thighs. Paintbrushes up her ribs. Lucien’s breath on her belly. She twitched.
Her clit, already swollen from betrayal, twitched with a slow, pained pulse. Still flushed. Still twitching. And starving.
Elias applied a dollop of lube just above her mound. Then dragged it down. Right between her lips. Avoiding the clit. She squirmed.
Kade chuckled. “Already needy? I don't know if this naughty clit deserves any attention.." he mused.
She groaned behind the gag. Then the brushes came out.
Lucien and Elias—one above, one below. No pressure. Just circling. Brushing. Teasing.
Each stroke of sable bristle barely touched her clit—but her body jerked, hips jumping with the tiniest contact. The bristles didn’t stroke. They hovered, whisper light.
Then the vibrating perineum paintbrush activated—Rhys holding the vibrating wand just off-center, so the hum grazed her taint in slow, teasing bursts.
"Ooh-hoo-hoO-AHH!!" She shrieked in surprise from the new tool.
“She’s drooling,” Elias said. "I think she likes it, Rhys!!"
“She’s leaking,” Kade added, watching slick from her **** trail down to the bench. Still, no one said the word. No one gave her permission.
Minute 55:
Her clit was engorged. Her pussy was squelching. Her whole body was shaking with half-contained giggles and sobs.
And the brushes hadn’t stopped. Every three seconds, a flick to the hood. Every ten, a pass under the head. Not hard, Deadly soft. The worst thing imaginable.
She was desperate—panting through her nose, tears down her cheeks, gag soaked. And then—
Elias tapped the underside with the pinpoint vibrator, holding it gently there for 3 mere seconds. Bzzzzzzzzz— it teased, before he pulled it away. She screamed.
Her thighs snapped. The frame creaked. She pissed herself again—streaming down her ass in a warm release that fogged the air.
And still, they didn’t stop.
Lucien whispered: “Beg all you want, little ****. We’re going to tease you until you forget what coming feels like.”
Final Act: Ownership is Forever
After 10 hours, she didn’t believe them when they said they’d let her come. They'd teased her before during the session. Kade had whispered "Grunt twice and you can cum" yet after complying with every little ask, they'd stopped all stimulation.
It was clear that they wanted to mindfuck her into believing she'd never cum again as punishment for ruining her entire week of denial training. What she couldn't comprehend, was the harem was just as turned on by her edging as they were by her orgasms. She didn't understand that it was the CONTROL of her every twitch that they took utmost pleasure in and thus sought after from her poor exhausted pussy. And the mindfucking just added to that very control.
Laying limp on the bench, gag soaked, thighs shaking, clit swollen beyond reason—puffy, twitching, angry at the brush still circling it—she moaned into her restraints, helpless.
And then came Elias’ voice. “Ready, slut?” He'd asked her this at least nine times the past 10 hours.
She whimpered as Lucien’s brush stopped in it's tracks.
Kade took his place between her legs, gloved fingers cradling her tender, trembling clit with slow reverence.
“No tricks,” he said softly. “No pulses. No clamps. Just one soft orgasm. One real release.”
The vibrator switched on—low. Direct. He held it flat to her bud, letting the heat soak into the skin. She jumped. Her clit quaked. The buildup was instant and intense.
"MnPHmhm!!!" She cried behind her gag, as if to beg them to wait. But She was already leaking. Her g-spot spasming on memory alone.
Rhys knelt beside her, feather teasing her perineum adding to the sensation. “Let it go, baby.”
Lucien kissed her ear. “You’ve earned this.” Bzzzzzzzzzz...
She moaned—so hard it was like crying. Her thighs shook. Her eyes rolled.
Kade's fingers reached out and stroked the sides of her clit, slow and wet, forcing the bud slightly down to further kiss the fluttering vibrator.
And then she came. No, screams, no thrashing. Utterly spent.
Her body curled forward, pussy squirting weakly, clit fluttering under the vibe, nerves firing in soft, rippling waves of shattered bliss.
It was the gentlest orgasm she’d ever had. Ad it ruined her.
Elias lifted the clit cage. She moaned as Kade knealt down and gently brushed her clit with his lips. His prickly 5'o clock shadow making her giggle with need. Her clit reached up to kiss him back as his lips slowly parted away.
Down came the clit cage. And she was theirs to keep. A toy with a clit to gag, edge, fuck, pump, or deny. Forever.
A reverse harem clit (and asshole) tickle torture, edging and denial story MMMM/F
Her mouth was already full when she woke up. Gagged. Stuffed. A thick black silicone bit strapped between her lips, forcing her jaw wide, locking her tongue down in a gag-slick prison. Saliva soaked the corners of her mouth. She could only grunt, whimper, breathe through her nose—and even that trembled with each uneven pant. Her vision was blurry, head swimming, body spread wide on the padded X-frame, arms above, legs far apart, every limb strapped into place with velvet-lined leather.
She was completely stripped naked. Every soft, squirming inch laid bare beneath the glow of soft overhead lights and four watching men.
And one of them was already kneeling between her thighs.
Elias. The cold one. The scientist. And he was staring directly at her clit like it was something that had insulted him personally.
“Mmngggh—!” she tried, shaking her head.
“No, no, sweetheart,” Elias said, not even touching her yet. “You don’t get to talk. But we’ll pretend you can. That’s half the fun.”
Lucien, lounging at her left side, leaned down and whispered right next to her ear.
“She’s awake,” he purred. “Good morning, fucktoy.”
Kade was at her right, gently brushing her forearm, crooning: “Hey baby. You remember the safe word?”
“Mmphh!”
“Mmhm,” Lucien nodded. “That’s right. Just say it, and we’ll stop.” They all laughed cruelly.
Rhys stood behind her, massive, silent, his calloused fingers trailing the strap that held her left ankle wide open. Then lower. Then to the inside of her thigh. Then to— Her clit.
Already swollen. Already puffed, even before they started.
The spreader kept her gaped, labia peeled apart, pussy lips stretched wide so every shiver of air hit the helpless little nub at the top. It had already begun to tremble.
“So sensitive already,” Elias murmured. “Is she excited? Or afraid?”
“She’s gagged,” Kade smiled. “Does it matter?”
Lucien produced a brush. Long, soft. A fine horsehair painter’s tool. He leaned between her legs and ever so lightly drew it down the inside of her thigh.
“Let’s see if this little thing here,” he whispered, “wants to come out and play.”
The brush kissed the edge of her clit. She bucked.
It was so light. So barely there—and yet her whole body jerked against the cuffs. Her gag muffled a sudden moan.
“Was that a moan or a protest?” Elias asked.
“Mmmn—mphh!”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Lucien snickered. “She could tell us... If she really wanted to."
Elias held up a bottle of menthol lube. He squirted a single bead on her clit.
She shrieked into the gag. Her thighs tensed.
“Poor baby,” Kade crooned, tracing her ribs with his fingernails. “All you have to do is say the safe word. That’s all.”
“Mmphh! Mmmngh!!”
“...what’s that? You can’t?”
Elias pressed two vibrators to her clit. One above. One below. He didn’t turn them on yet.
“Not yet,” he said. “We’ll let her feel the pressure first.. let the intensity of what's going to happen to her build."
Lucien’s paintbrush delicately circled her clit now, flicking the menthol bead in delicate, cruel swirls.
It pulsed. It twitched. Her clit looked like it was breathing.
“That little nub’s got stage fright,” Lucien murmured. “Should we encourage it?”
“On three,” Elias said. “One. Two. Three.”
Click. The vibrators came to life. Low. Slow, a barely there buzz. She screamed into the gag.
Part 2: Clit on Trial
Bzzzzzzzz... The sound was low, but the sensation was earth-shattering.
The twin vibrators pressed gently on either side of her clit, one against the top, the other cupping underneath. The pressure was so delicate. Too delicate. Not enough to satisfy. But enough to awaken every ruined nerve inside that tiny, flushed bead of over-sensitive meat.
Her clit twitched like it was being tickled from inside.
It burned. It begged. It throbbed—not like part of her body anymore, but like a small, panicking creature trapped between soft rubber and steel. Elias adjusted the spreader again. One more crank.
Click. Her lips peeled wider.
Her clit became fully visible now—no hood, no cover, nothing to hide behind. Red, puffed, quivering.
“Ooh look at it,” Lucien said with something like awe, dragging the feather end of his brush around it. Not on it—around it. Never touching, just threatening.
Kade leaned forward, murmuring in her ear, soft as silk. “You feel that, baby? That little twitch every second? That’s your clit trying to run away... But she can't, can she?"
Rhys added pressure to her thighs, holding them wider with those massive hands. Then his finger found the very base of her pussy—right at the rim—and began rubbing slow, lazy circles.
“She’s wet,” he rumbled. “Fingers?” Elias nodded.
Rhys slid one thick finger inside. Then two.
Then curved them, finding her g-spot instantly and stroking painstakingly slowly. Shllick. Shllick. Shllick.
Kade giggled at her whimper. “Poor slut. Can’t say the word, can’t say stop, can’t say please harder—and we can tell her clit is just about right there on the edge.”
“Want us to stop?” Lucien cooed, painting her lower belly in swirling wet feather strokes. “Then say the word, baby.”
“Mmhgghhh—mhhmm—!”
All she could do was scream into the gag. And her clit screamed louder.
Elias leaned in. “It’s puffing up.” He wasn’t wrong.
The nub was furious now. Swollen nearly double in size, bulging out as the vibrators pressed in, the menthol soaked in deeper, the brush stroked circles around it, swirling around her mound whispering by the base of her clit without mercy.
“She's drooling,” Lucien said, licking the saliva off her chin. He gently kissed the side of her mouth. “Everywhere. Look at that tongue twitching under the gag.” Rhys kept pumping her g-spot. Her hips started grinding.
Kade kissed her temple. “All you have to do is say it.”
“C’mon,” Lucien added, voice sugary and cruel. “Say the word, sweetheart. Otherwise we'll keep it up."
But the gag stayed in. And the clit kept suffering.
Part 3: The Clit's Betrayal
She was right there.
Her hips had started rocking on their own. Rhys’ fingers curled with perfect precision, dragging pressure along her g-spot in a constant wave. The pads of his fingers pushed up while her soaked **** clung and fluttered around him. Wet sounds filled the room—slippery, obscene. And he pressed down gentle, firm pressure to her lower abdomen.
Lucien’s brush finally touched her clit. Just a whisper of contact. A flick.
“Did you feel that?” Kade crooned. “That was nothing. Just a taste.”
Elias watched the screen—yes, they were monitoring her clit’s pulse. Her heart rate. Her contractions.
“She’s climbing,” he said. “Right to the edge.”
Lucien tapped her clit again. Feather-light.
Her scream echoed behind the gag. “MmmMGHHH!!”
“Ready to come?” Kade asked, cupping her flushed cheek. “Is that what your little clit is begging for?”
She nodded frantically. Helpless. Desperate. Pleading.
“Too bad.”
Elias turned the vibrators off with a devastating click.
Her clit throbbed violently, once. And then she came anyway.
Her body snapped. Her thighs clamped down against the restraints, her back arched, and her pussy gushed, squirting hard from a ruined orgasm clenching against Rhys' stilled fingers buried deep in her ****. Her clit convulsed in the open air—no pressure, no vibration, nothing—just pulsing, alone, betrayed, screaming in silence begging for more stimulation to help it ride the orgasmic wave.
The men froze. Kade broke it first, laughing softly. “Oh, no.”
Lucien clapped once. “Naughty girl.”
Elias stood up, walked between her legs, and crouched. “Your clit disobeyed.”
“Mmmmnnnhhh—!”
“That was a bad orgasm, slut. And now? You’re going to pay.”
Rhys withdrew his fingers. Slowly. Wiped them across her trembling belly.
Lucien took the brush and dipped it in ice water. And pressed it to the center of her freshly orgasmed clit. Her scream could have shattered several windows.
The clit spasmed, puffed even larger, like it was physically trying to pull away from the stimulation. The menthol had dried, but the ice reawakened it. The brush dragged a circle. Then another.
Then a flick. “Did you like sneaking a cum?” Elias whispered. “Do you think you’re in control?”
Kade grabbed her jaw and squeezed gently. “Use your words, baby.”
Lucien laughed. “Oh wait. You can’t.”
Then Elias brought out the clamp.
A soft, rubber-lined ring with a tension dial. He opened it wide.
“Did you enjoy that orgasm baby?" Rhys asked. "I hope it was worth it... because here comes punishment time for your poor little naughty clit.”
He placed it at the base of her still-spasming clit. It twitched, visibly. He tightened it. Slowly. One twist. Two.
Her legs shook. Then he attached the micro pinpoint vibrator—inside the clamp resting gently on her clitoral head.. And turned it on. Bzzzzzzzz... her clit screamed.
Part 4: The Itch That Screams
Her clit twitched constantly now—each pulse a desperate cry, each throb a white-flag she couldn’t raise.
The clamp held it in place, the vibrator humming inside it like a tiger’s purr. The menthol was still lingering deep in her skin, tingling every nerve like static.
But Elias had taken the brush away. Now, he used his breath.
He leaned in close—so close his exhale danced across the underside of her ruined little bud. The moment the warm air hit it, the clit jumped visibly. Not just a twitch, but a full-body flinch that rattled the frame.
And he didn’t touch her. He just whispered. “You feel that?” Another puff of air. “Poor little clit’s so needy now. I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?” Huff. “Bet you’d do anything for another flick.”
“Or another orgasm,” Kade added, stroking her arm slowly. “But which would hurt more now? The tease? Or the release?”
Lucien dragged a feather—just the tip—across her belly. Not her clit. Not even her pussy. Just her belly. But it tickled. Made her tense.
Rhys, behind her, slid a cold drop of lube against her asshole. One finger hovered. Just hovering.
“Should we edge her again?” Lucien asked. “Or should we leave her here?”
“Let her hover?” Elias said. “Itching powder?”
“Mnnmmpphh—!” she sobbed at the very thought.
Kade leaned over her ear. “Sweet thing. Just say the word. Say please. Say ‘safeword’ Say ‘enough.’”
But her mouth was gagged, stuffed so tight with her own soaked panties she could only breathe in moans and scream in syllables.
Elias finally lowered the brush again. And touched her clit. Just one flick. She exploded.
The clamp kept it trapped, so the orgasm couldn’t even ripple out right—it compressed, like a spring snapping back into itself, her body jerking so hard it tried to lift off the frame she was bound tightly to.
Her moan was silent now. She couldn’t breathe. Lucien stroked her belly again. “She came without permission again.”
Elias chuckled. “I think we make her stay like this for hours.”
Part 5: Made to Come, Made to Suffer
Elias tightened the clamp one more notch - not nearly enough to induce pain, just a hair tighter. Every crank would make it stand firmer, and pull the pesky clitoral hood back with it.
Her clit bulged between the rubber, purple-pink and trembling, still soaked from the last orgasm. The micro-vibrator mounted in the clamp buzzed on low—steady, cruel, unrelenting.
“She’s oversensitive,” Lucien said, watching the little bud twitch. “I want to break her..”
Kade knelt between her legs. His fingers - at least an extra half the thickness of Rhys' returned to her soaked ****, two sinking in with obscene ease, then three, then four—spreading her open, pressing against that swollen sponge of a g-spot. He began to pump. Not fast. But deep. Measured.
Shlick...shlick...shlick. She cried into the gag.
Her whole body shivered.
Her pussy clenched and pulled at his hand like it was starving for more.
Rhys, silent behind her, dragged a feather between her cheeks. He’d tied a loop of silk around her knees now, forcing them wider, thighs trembling. The feather dipped and flicked at her asshole, soft teasing flicks just to remind her—every hole was his.
“You’re going to come again,” Kade said softly. “We’re going to force your clit to spasm until it can’t anymore.”
“Mmmmnnnghh—!”
“And if you piss yourself?” Lucien murmured. “We won’t stop.”
Elias flicked the vibrator setting up by one level barely noticeable to the untrained eye... Or clit. BZZZZZZZ...
Her clit jumped. Her hips snapped. Her thighs tensed so hard the restraints creaked as Kade added another finger. Four still inside, but now pushing up—massaging the g-spot like it was a trigger.
“You’re leaking,” he said, voice syrupy. “That sweet little pussy is milking my fingers.”
Lucien leaned down to her ear. “Just say the word. Beg us to stop.”
She moaned around the gag, both wanting the torment to stop and continue at the same time. But her clit didn’t care. It throbbed with its own heartbeat. It begged without her.
It was crying in sensation—red, angry, terrified. But every flick of the vibrator forced it closer. And then— “Now,” Elias said. “Let it happen.”
Rhys replaced the feather with a cold, oil-dipped brush. He began painting around her ass in slow figure-eights. Not penetration—just constant sensation. Kade’s fingers curled. The vibrator spiked. And she came. HARD.
A full-body orgasm, ripped from her like a scream in her soul. Her clit spasmed against the clamp, unable to escape. Her pussy squirted again, soaking Kade’s wrist. Her asshole clenched and twitched as Rhys whispered:
“Again.” Kade didn’t stop fingering. Elias stood and watched her, chuckling in appreciation.
Lucien kissed her cheek and said: “Let’s see how many she can take.”
Part 6: No Mercy Punishment
She didn’t come down from the last orgasm. Her body was still jerking when the next wave hit her—slamming through her like a drug overdose, full-body spasms that made her thighs strain at the restraints and her fists clench hard into her bindings. But they didn’t stop.
Because she hadn’t said the safe word. Because she couldn’t.
And because her clit—bloated, raw, trapped in the clamp and still buzzing—was begging for punishment.
Elias turned the micro-vibrator up another notch. BZZZZZZZZZ...
Her clit jerked like it was being electrocuted, visibly twitching in its rubber cage. The menthol oil inside the clamp was seeping deeper now, burning, chilling, every second a contradiction of heat and sting and overwhelming need.
Kade never pulled out. He just kept fingering, deep and slow, curling his hand inside her, knuckles pressing that spongey bundle over and over and over like a pump, while pressing on that spot on her abdomen, forcing her to feel every inch of his thick fingers on her g-spot.
Rhys added a second brush. Now two brushes swirled around her asshole, dipping close, never in—just circling, flicking, mocking. Tickling. Every touch sent new, unbearable sparks across her body.
“Still didn’t say the word,” Lucien purred beside her ear, brushing her sweat-slick cheek. “So we’re going to see how many orgasms that greedy little clit can take.”
“Two so far,” Elias said. “I want five.”
"Why stop at five?" Rhys asked as they all burst into a collectively villianous laugh.
“Mmm—MMHMMMGHH—!!” she screamed into the gag.
Lucien produced a dropper. “Warm oil. Just a bead. Right on top.” Drip. It landed on the tip of her clit like a kiss from the sun.
She exploded... Orgasm #3
Her body shook with gush after gush of fluid pumped from her ****, g-spot convulsing under Kade’s teasing fingers and his firm pressure on her abdomen made her feel every sweeping stroke. Her whole pussy seized and released like a heartbeat.
And they just watched.
“No mercy,” Rhys rumbled, feathers still flicking her tight little ass.
“No pause,” Elias said, twisting the dial again.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ— Her clit was screaming now. Visibly jumping. The nerve was done—but still being forced to come.
Orgasm #4 slammed through her like a train wreck. The gag caught her scream. She pissed herself.
The floor was soaked. Her thighs streamed. She twitched so hard the cuffs bit into her wrists. Still, Kade fucked her gently with his hand.
Still, Elias kept the vibrator running. Still, Lucien flicked her clit with the brush. Orgasm #5 wasn’t a scream. It was a collapse.
Her whole body went limp, trembling, twitching as Lucien leaned in with a tsk, voice soft and cold. “Clit still hasn't learned its lesson.”
Part 7: The Ruining
She was done. Her body said so—shivering, twitching, limp in the restraints. Her thighs were streaked with slick and piss, her belly smeared with lube and tears. Her wrists had gone slack, her fingers barely curling. But her clit?
Still trapped in the clamp. Still buzzing. Still swollen—flush pink, shimmering with a sheen of menthol, lube, oil, and the remnants of every brutal orgasm she’d been forced through.
It twitched once. Then again. Not with pain... The boys seems to know how to skirt around what should have been painful with such immense pleasure. But her clit twitched again... Not with need. With fear.
Lucien leaned close. Brush in hand. “Look at that poor clit,” he whispered like a lover. “It’s not even fighting anymore.”
Kade pulled his fingers from her at last, slick and glistening. “She’s drained. And we’re not even touching her now.”
“She thinks it’s over,” Elias said, crouching at her thighs again. “But we’re going to give her one more. Just one.... maybe.”
“Gentle?” Rhys asked, smiling faintly.
Lucien nodded. “Excruciatingly.”
Elias turned the vibrator off. Her clit relaxed instantly—like it sighed. 20 minutes of rest passed... Then came the brush.
A new one—softest yet. Sable tip. Barely there. Elias held it like a scalpel, and dragged it once—once—across the center of her exposed, clamped bud.
She groaned. Not a scream this time or a cry. A low, guttural, sobbing moan. “MmmmmmMMHNNNNnnnngggh...!”
It rolled from her throat like a body remembering it was alive.
“Feel that?” Kade whispered. “That little twitch?”
“Mmmmmm...”
“20 minutes and her clit’s already begging again,” Lucien said, flicking the brush ever so gently in a circle.
The brush barely stirred the nerves—but that was the torment. Because her clit wasn’t numb. It was sensitive. This was like touching sunburn with silk.
Her body arched. She moaned again. Throatier. Every touch of the brush set off tiny spasms—hips jerking just an inch, legs straining, mouth drooling again behind the gag.
“Still can’t say the word,” Elias cooed.
“She doesn’t want us to stop anymore,” Kade added. They all grinned.
Rhys reached behind her, two fingers pressing lightly on her bladder. Pressure, Soft and Inescapable. Lena moaned louder. “Mmmmmmhnnnnnnnnnnn...!”
“You’re going to piss again,” Lucien whispered in her ear. “You better not, baby." He taunted.
Elias brushed the clit again. Circle. Circle. Tap.
She shuddered. Her belly tensed. The clamp held her in place.
“Cum,” Kade breathed. And she did. Her orgasm poured out of her like a confession.
Her clit pulsed, convulsed, twitched and spasmed—not violently this time. Not forced. Just surrendered. A soft, sobbing orgasm that rippled through her, made her thighs quake, made her belly clench—and made her piss herself.
It ran in a hot gush down her ass and thighs, soaking the velvet. The boys didn’t even flinch. Lucien kissed her cheek.
“Good girl.” Elias removed the clamp. Her clit twitched—once, weakly.
And then Kade brought the collar. Black leather. Gold buckle. No tag. Yet. He buckled it around her throat.
“Now,” he said gently, brushing hair from her face, “what should we make you?”
“Our denial slut?” Lucien mused.
“Our little edge toy?” Elias smiled.
“Just say the word,” Rhys whispered.
But she couldn’t. Because the gag was still in. And they didn’t need her to answer. She belonged to them now. Forever.
Part 8: What it means to belong
Weeks had passed since that first night. The collar never came off. Not for meals. Not for sleep. Not even for the bath. It wasn’t just a symbol—it was a warning. A lock. A promise. A claim stamped in leather and silence.
Her new world was quiet. No voice. No choices.
Every morning, the gag was strapped back in. Bit-style, black silicone, tight enough to press her tongue flat and make drool leak down her chin by the minute. It stayed there until bedtime. She wasn’t allowed to ask for anything.
Tonight, they didn’t take her clitoris out of the cage. Tonight was about internal pressure.
Elias had prepared the ingredients. A custom blend of itching lube—peppermint extract, arnica, and a few other things she wasn’t allowed to know about.
Lucien prepared the brush. Sable. Long-handled. Flexible.
Kade? He knelt between her legs, electric toothbrush in hand, smiling.
Rhys just whispered: "Let’s see if she can still beg with her body.”
They strapped her to the bench this time—knees up, thighs wide, ass tilted forward so every inch of her underside was open and waiting.
Her clit stayed caged. But the skin around it? Not spared.
Lucien dipped the brush in the lube. Slowly, carefully, he began painting it in tight, tiny strokes across her perineum—the soft flesh between her pussy and her tight little asshole.
“Let’s see how she reacts,” he murmured. Stroke. Stroke. Swirl. The lube soaked in. It started tingling. Then itching.
Her whole pelvis twitched. “MmmMMhhhph—!”
“Oh? Is that too tickly?” Kade cooed. He flicked the toothbrush on.
The bristles buzzed gently as he dragged it in slow, teasing spirals across the same spot. The perineum jumped under the pressure, twitching.
She giggled behind the gag. High. Muffled. Squealing. “Tickle tickle tickle,” Lucien grinned.
Elias adjusted the cage’s internal vibe to pulse mode—each five seconds, it would thrum softly once. Zzz...
She squealed again as drool spilled from her gag. Her thighs shook.
The perineum was on fire now. It itched from the lube and buzzed from the toothbrush—every pulse sending new waves of helpless laughter and wetness through her. Her cage pressed in tighter. Her body moved constantly.
Kade reached up and rubbed her belly firmly. “So squirmy.”
Rhys slid a fingertip down her inner thigh. “So wet.”
Lucien painted another coat of lube. “So sensitive.”
"HhhHHNnngh!"
“Did you just moan from your perineum?” Kade teased. “Baby girl, we haven’t even touched your clit.”
“Just say the word,” Elias added.
“Mmmnnmhhhn—!!”
“Didn’t think so.” They kept going. For hours.
Feathers joined in. Another brush. Cooling oil. Tickling every spot but her clit, while the cage teased inside it, that pulsing thrum driving her insane.
She sobbed with laughter. She giggled with tears. She pissed herself again. And still, they whispered: “One more edge.”
Part 9: The Uncaging
A month had passed of her clit caging.. but tonight they decided her sensitivity had been increased tenfold over the last 30 days.
“Ready?” Elias asked, crouched between her trembling thighs.
“MmmMMnnnghh—” she whimpered behind the gag, body shuddering on the bench, thighs roped wide.
Her perineum was twitching, from the earlier torture -- foreplay they'd called it. It was drenched in a mixture of lube and her drooling pussy juices, the electric toothbrush still tracing light, vibrating strokes over the tender, twitchy flesh between her slit and her asshole. The itching hadn’t stopped. The tingling had built into a maddening, ticklish burn that made her laugh behind the gag while also sobbing, hips writhing like she could outrun the sensation.
And now? They were removing the cage. Elias unlatched the chrome with a reverent click. Lucien pulled it off slow.
Her clit emerged like new—furious, flushed, weeping. Engorged. Shiny. The skin throbbed. So sensitive it flinched from the coolness of the air.
“Ohhhhhh, fuck,” Lucien whispered, watching it quiver.
“She’s going to lose her mind,” Kade murmured.
Elias dipped two paintbrushes—ultra-fine—and handed one to Lucien.
They dunked them in the same itching lube used on her perineum. Then touched her clit. Both of them. At once.
Lucien circled the hood while Elias flicked the tip.
The moment contact hit her skin, her entire body arched. “MMMMMMMMMH!!”
A moan exploded out of her gagged mouth. Her clit twitched so hard it looked like it might detach. It was angry—purple, throbbing, burning—and now covered in itching fire. Zzzzz... The toothbrush continued it's torturous buzz.
Rhys held it to her perineum now, pressing just slightly firmer. Her thighs bucked. The combination of itch, vibration, and light touches was unbearable.
“She’s giggling,” Kade whispered, smiling. “But she’s crying, too.”
“She’s twitching like she’s gonna come,” Elias said. “But this clit isn’t coming. Not yet.”
Lucien reached for the pinpoint vibe. Pressed it directly under the clit. And clicked it on. Low. Focused. Gentle. Buzzzzzzzzz...
She screamed as her clit twitched again—spasming like it was begging for release but afraid to come. Especially with this harem's track record of methodical torture. The itching lube had turned the skin into fire. Every feather-light stroke sent her hips jerking.
The brush took place of the vibrator, sliding under the clit, teasing the raw underside.
The vibe flickered, stuttered, pulsed.
The toothbrush teased her backside, stroking unbearable tickles from asshole to perinium. She pissed herself again.
She moaned so hard it broke into muffled laughter—a high, cracked sound of a girl pushed past reason, past pleasure, into blissful insanity. And then—
Kade whispered: “Cum.” And she did.
Her clit detonated, jerking in space, spasming in front of them. Her pussy squirted—long, shuddering pulses soaking the bench. Her belly seized. Her throat sobbed.
The brushes didn’t stop. The vibrations didn’t stop. She came again. And again. Eyes rolling. Gag soaked. Body twitching uncontrollably.
By the time they kissed her face and turned the devices off, her clit was still spasming, involuntarily, twitching like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Lucien whispered: “You’ll be our denial toy forever.” And her clit trembled, as if to say yes.
Epilogue 1: Clit Training Protocol: Week One
She was transferred to the training room. Nothing harsh. Everything soft—cushions, velvet, ambient lighting, silk cuffs instead of leather. But all of it designed for one thing: Restraint.
They kept her gagged and collared.
And every day, she was laid out across the training bench, legs bound wide open, back arched, pussy fully exposed.
The clit cage stayed off now. But her clit wasn’t free. It was on trial.
Kade took lead that first day, crouching at the foot of the bench, gently spreading her lips with gloved fingers while Lucien dipped a sable brush into lavender-infused oil.
“She needs to associate this sensation with obedience,” Elias said calmly, adjusting the monitor that tracked her pelvic twitches and clitoral pulse. Lucien began brushing. Not stroking. Hovering.
A whisper of bristle that didn’t even make full contact—just a kiss of sensation. Her clit twitched.
Rhys placed a feather against her perineum. Slow circles. She moaned into the gag. Already drooling.
“Five minutes of brushing,” Elias said. “No orgasm. She has to learn to absorb.”
The brush danced, bristles gently flicking up, down, across the clit. Never allowing her to get used to one sensation for fear of tipping her over the edge too soon. Her clit puffed up fast—barely touched, yet throbbing, the surface flushed with arousal. Not from pleasure. From anticipation.
“Shhhh,” Kade whispered. “Just let the itch build.”
They turned on the ambient sound: soft moaning. Hers, from earlier sessions. Played back into her ears as psychological edging.
Brush circled. Feather teased. No vibrators yet.
She drooled. Shivered. Hips lifted instinctive. She wanted it.
Lucien leaned in. Breath on her clit. It twitched. Again. Harder.
Elias tapped the screen. “She’s spiking. Cut sensation.”
Everything stopped. She let out a desperate sobbing groan. Then the vibe activated for half a second. Zz— Not enough.
She twitched again. Clit throbbing in the open, slick with oil, quivering.
“She’s learning,” Kade said, smiling. “She knows this isn’t about her coming.”
“It’s about her staying right here,” Lucien added, circling the brush closer to the underside. “Balanced on the knife edge.”
Day Three: Hover Play
They gave her a dildo. Not for pleasure—for obedience. Inserted slowly into her soaked ****, deep, filling, but still.
“No movement,” Rhys said. “You clench, we restart.” Then the brushes returned.
Two now. One for the top of her clit. One under.
Both dipped in cooling oil this time. Not itchy. Just nerve-wakening. Each brush stroke made her **** clench around the toy.
“Restart,” Elias said. They pulled the brushes away.
She whimpered behind the gag. Again. Stroke. Stroke.
Clench. Restart. Again.
By the end of the hour she’d learned to hold still, while her clit twitched and wept, puffy and pink, untouched except by the softest things in the world.
Day Five: Vibrator Conditioning
A new toy. Pulse pad, attached flat to her clit. Warm. Smooth. No clamp this time.
Every five minutes, it pulsed once. If she moaned? Restart.
If she twitched? Restart.
Feathers circled her thighs. Brushes painted her hips.
Nothing on the clit now. Just around. She sobbed. Moaned inside.
Her clit ached, desperate to fire, to seize, to come. She didn’t. And they cooed in her ear:
“Good denial slut. That’s how we train our toy.”
Epilogue 2 - Clit Training, Week Two: The Collapse
She was perfect today.
Strapped down in silk, thighs wide, hips lifted, gag tight and soaked against her lips. Her clit stood proudly—puffed and trembling, freshly oiled, flushed from the buildup of stimulation she hadn’t been allowed to complete in days.
The boys were proud of her. Elias leaned over her chest, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “She’s adapting. Look how quiet her body is.”
Lucien traced her thigh with the tip of his feather pen. “Not even flinching.”
Rhys whispered, “Good. Then we’ll test her.”
Kade? He took the remote. Flicked it to Pulse Mode Alpha. This one was evil. Three pulses to the clit.
One to the g-spot—via a curved internal pad already snug inside her ****. One single buzz across the perineum.
All timed and soft. All staggered and looped.
They activated it. She didn’t flinch.
The clit twitched. But she didn’t groan.
"Good girl." Kade praised. Brushes came next.
Lucien painted a ring of oil around her clit, never on it. Circling the heat, drawing a noose of sensation just outside its swollen perimeter.
The first loop finished.
Buzz...pulse...pulse...stroke...tickle. Still holding. Kade leaned over her mouth. “You want to come, don’t you?”
She moaned around the gag. Lucien’s brush drew one final arc… and tapped the underside of her clit.
Once. Twice. And then— Her hips jerked.
Elias froze. “...wait—”
Pulse. Buzz. Gasp. Then— Release.
It happened instantly. Her pussy clenched the internal toy. Her clit seized, pulsed, fired—
She came. Hard and unexpected, yet unforgivable.
Squirting softly, her steam trickling to the floor tickling between her legs as her body trembled, and she drooled in pleasure moaning into the gag.
And then the brushes stopped and the vibes cut out. But, The gag stayed in.
And the boys? Just stood around her. Watching, Disappointed. Lucien sighed first. “Tsk. You were so close.”
Rhys let out a long, low whistle.
Elias folded his arms. “You blew it.”
Kade crouched at her ear. Whispered. “You know what happens next... little cum slut.”
And her clit? Still twitching and raw was waiting to be punished again.
Forced Training, Zero Release: Session One
She was gagged before she was even conscious. Her usual gag was switched out to a velvet bit-gag. Strapped tight, wedged between her teeth, locking her tongue down. She drooled before she opened her eyes.
“You blew it, baby.” Kade, whispering in her ear as she was strapped to the incline frame. Arms wide, legs higher, tilted so her clit was the highest point of her whole body—exposed, open, vulnerable.
“Now we’re going to teach you what happens when you take what isn’t yours.” Lucien rolled in the cart.
Brushes, Vibrators, Oil, Feathers. All for her. None to satisfy.
They didn’t touch her pussy at first. Just circled it.
Feathers to her inner thighs. Paintbrushes up her ribs. Lucien’s breath on her belly. She twitched.
Her clit, already swollen from betrayal, twitched with a slow, pained pulse. Still flushed. Still twitching. And starving.
Elias applied a dollop of lube just above her mound. Then dragged it down. Right between her lips. Avoiding the clit. She squirmed.
Kade chuckled. “Already needy? I don't know if this naughty clit deserves any attention.." he mused.
She groaned behind the gag. Then the brushes came out.
Lucien and Elias—one above, one below. No pressure. Just circling. Brushing. Teasing.
Each stroke of sable bristle barely touched her clit—but her body jerked, hips jumping with the tiniest contact. The bristles didn’t stroke. They hovered, whisper light.
Then the vibrating perineum paintbrush activated—Rhys holding the vibrating wand just off-center, so the hum grazed her taint in slow, teasing bursts.
"Ooh-hoo-hoO-AHH!!" She shrieked in surprise from the new tool.
“She’s drooling,” Elias said. "I think she likes it, Rhys!!"
“She’s leaking,” Kade added, watching slick from her **** trail down to the bench. Still, no one said the word. No one gave her permission.
Minute 55:
Her clit was engorged. Her pussy was squelching. Her whole body was shaking with half-contained giggles and sobs.
And the brushes hadn’t stopped. Every three seconds, a flick to the hood. Every ten, a pass under the head. Not hard, Deadly soft. The worst thing imaginable.
She was desperate—panting through her nose, tears down her cheeks, gag soaked. And then—
Elias tapped the underside with the pinpoint vibrator, holding it gently there for 3 mere seconds. Bzzzzzzzzz— it teased, before he pulled it away. She screamed.
Her thighs snapped. The frame creaked. She pissed herself again—streaming down her ass in a warm release that fogged the air.
And still, they didn’t stop.
Lucien whispered: “Beg all you want, little ****. We’re going to tease you until you forget what coming feels like.”
Final Act: Ownership is Forever
After 10 hours, she didn’t believe them when they said they’d let her come. They'd teased her before during the session. Kade had whispered "Grunt twice and you can cum" yet after complying with every little ask, they'd stopped all stimulation.
It was clear that they wanted to mindfuck her into believing she'd never cum again as punishment for ruining her entire week of denial training. What she couldn't comprehend, was the harem was just as turned on by her edging as they were by her orgasms. She didn't understand that it was the CONTROL of her every twitch that they took utmost pleasure in and thus sought after from her poor exhausted pussy. And the mindfucking just added to that very control.
Laying limp on the bench, gag soaked, thighs shaking, clit swollen beyond reason—puffy, twitching, angry at the brush still circling it—she moaned into her restraints, helpless.
And then came Elias’ voice. “Ready, slut?” He'd asked her this at least nine times the past 10 hours.
She whimpered as Lucien’s brush stopped in it's tracks.
Kade took his place between her legs, gloved fingers cradling her tender, trembling clit with slow reverence.
“No tricks,” he said softly. “No pulses. No clamps. Just one soft orgasm. One real release.”
The vibrator switched on—low. Direct. He held it flat to her bud, letting the heat soak into the skin. She jumped. Her clit quaked. The buildup was instant and intense.
"MnPHmhm!!!" She cried behind her gag, as if to beg them to wait. But She was already leaking. Her g-spot spasming on memory alone.
Rhys knelt beside her, feather teasing her perineum adding to the sensation. “Let it go, baby.”
Lucien kissed her ear. “You’ve earned this.” Bzzzzzzzzzz...
She moaned—so hard it was like crying. Her thighs shook. Her eyes rolled.
Kade's fingers reached out and stroked the sides of her clit, slow and wet, forcing the bud slightly down to further kiss the fluttering vibrator.
And then she came. No, screams, no thrashing. Utterly spent.
Her body curled forward, pussy squirting weakly, clit fluttering under the vibe, nerves firing in soft, rippling waves of shattered bliss.
It was the gentlest orgasm she’d ever had. Ad it ruined her.
Elias lifted the clit cage. She moaned as Kade knealt down and gently brushed her clit with his lips. His prickly 5'o clock shadow making her giggle with need. Her clit reached up to kiss him back as his lips slowly parted away.
Down came the clit cage. And she was theirs to keep. A toy with a clit to gag, edge, fuck, pump, or deny. Forever.
