63 days..

It had been 63 days since he had last had an orgasm.

63 days, 63 nights, each one counted, acknowledged and crossed off the countdown on his calendar.

Today, the day had arrived when he got to meet his Miss for the first time.

As he was walking from the train towards the car park, he wondered if in a few hours time he would be allowed an orgasm, at long last. How would she give it to him?
Would he have to masturbate in front of her, would she direct him (left hand, right hand, both hands, wet hands, soapy hands, dry hands, stop, start); would he be humiliated and made to rub himself against a silk bed sheet with his hands tied behind his back, in a feeble attempt to arouse himself (what if he came straight away - what if he couldn't manage to cum at all in the time she allowed him the use of the sheet); dare he even allow himself to imagine that her own hands might touch him (his cock pulsed in it's cage as he walked up the steps into the train station foyer)..oh god, what if her hands touched him? What if she tied him to the bed and teased him mercilessly, bringing him to the edge, repeatedly until he could stand it no more? He would beg her, he knew he would. He'd beg for an orgasm. He was so desperate, and after relentless teasing he'd beg. He needed to cum now. He needed it so badly. He might cry if  she teased him without mercy.. If he cried, she might take pity on him and wank him until he couldn't help but lose control and orgasm, spilling his mess all over her beautiful hands and onto his belly, over the sheets, embarrassing himself for dirtying her pure white skin; what if she didn't even take off his device - what if she never even mentioned his cock, or his orgasm, or his needs - what if she was totally self centred and only took his servitude from him; what if he ached, and throbbed and leaked for the entire of his time spent with her and she never once mentioned him having release? What if she was horny, and removed her clothes as soon as they got in the bedroom, pulled down his trousers, removed his chastity device and said, please, please fuck me... (he felt wet leaking from his device as he walked out of the foyer and across the tarmac carpark). 

He felt weak already. Needy, desperately needy and submissive from weeks of denial.

Before he knew it he was stood infront of her. His face flushed from the thoughts that had over taken him mind in the two minute walk from the train doors to her feet. He looked down at his shoes, half ashamed, half embarrassed, and he stuttered, "Hello Miss"............