The silent treatment

 I had some quality therapy last week. Miss was in complete control, a perfect hour of knoblet teasing and abuse. There was no danger of me getting hysterical and losing control, for Miss had a complete grip of the situation. I had to go out that evening, so i knew in advance how long it was going to be, but it is amazing how long an hour can feel. Also with that level of control means that she could easily keep me going for another hour.

Which she has done before. 

Which is terrifying. 

I am afraid of the power she wields over me, to be a panting moaning wreck, knoblet rubbed and polished until it feels actually sore. 

We listen to music when she is applying therapy, her choice of techno and trance. She chooses to cultivate my appreciation for her choices. Association with pleasure stimuli is effective - i look forward to the next session of therapy and the thumpy music she prefers. One day I will love it as much as she does, maybe more so. 

But I worry that therapy makes me too noisy. Most of the time I am panting and moaning. As Miss works me up to a pitch i get very moany, my voice rising to a pitch of keening want. The closer she take me to orgasm, the higher my voice until I am almost shrieking. Then she eases off and i am left to hang, to calm for a moment or two, while i gather myself before she begins again. 

All of which amuses her but I am guessing also distracts from her enjoyment of her music. 

So a thought arrived in my head, during one of those ascents. What if Miss forbade me from making a sound? She could just pump and tease and polish to her heart's content. If she makes me climb to orgasm I must endure it silently, utterly quiet and internalising the excess of sensation she is inflicting.

When I am about to orgasm I must utter a single squeak to communicate this. Miss can then stop and let me relax before she brings me up again. She can feel and judge the hardness in her fist, and can probably pick up the tell tale twitches, as they ebb from the peak. But disturbing her music, when I have been forbidden to speak, deserves punishment. So a simple smack on the balls will cover it. Not too hard, not too soft. Just a quick little smack. So i know to minimise the disturbance to her musical enjoyment. 

Slowly she begins again to pump. My climax builds but I am not allowed to escape therapy by orgasm. So as she builds me to another climax, and i must time my warning yelp to prevent it. Knowing full well that my poor balls will suffer for this obedience.

A game she can play for as long as she wants.