Chapter 24: Nat moans theatrically as she forces Micha's limp cock inside her, the barely-there bulge stretching her lips obscenely while Chris's caged erection strains against steel. 'Two inches maximum penetration - how tragic,' Annika giggles while timing the pitiful thrusts. Erna suddenly produces a monstrous dildo, coldly instructing Nat 'Show the denied bitch what a real stretching feels like' as the toy disappears between Nat's spread cheeks, her scream of real pleasure echoing through Chris's apartm
The laptop screen glowed in the dark room, split into three panes of exquisite torture. On the left, Nat’s flushed face was a mask of guilty ecstasy; on the right, Annika and Erna watched like sharks, their smiles sharp. In the center, Chris’s jaw was rigid, his fist a pale blur around the base of his thick, straining cock.
“Wider, Nat,” Erna purred, her voice a silk-wrapped command. “Let the poor boy see what he’s missing. What his real job is.”
Nat whimpered, but she obeyed. She hooked her fingers, pulling her glistening lips apart until the pink, swollen core of her was displayed in high-definition clarity. She was still grinding slowly on Micha’s hip, his soft cock nestled uselessly against her thigh. He snored lightly, a drugged, trusting sleep.
“His isn’t even a cock,” Nat breathed, her eyes locked on Chris’s feed. “It’s a… a button. A clit. But you… fuck, Chris, I can see your veins. I bet you’d tear me open.”
Chris groaned, his hips giving an involuntary twitch. His fist tightened. “Please,” he gritted out.
“Please what?” Annika chirped, leaning into her camera. Her childish face was alight with malice. “Please let you cum? After you lost the Denial Olympics? You belong to Erna for a month, stupid. You don’t get to please anything. You just get to edge. So do it. For Nat.”
On screen, Nat shifted. With a deliberate, slow motion, she reached back and guided Micha’s limp penis toward her entrance. It was a surreal, pathetic sight—the small, soft flesh nudging against her soaked opening. “See?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It doesn’t even wake up. It doesn’t care. But you care, don’t you, Chris? You’re so hard it looks painful.”
She let go of him, and his cock flopped back against his thigh. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. It wasn’t all an act. The humiliation was real, the bitter disappointment a tangible thing in the room. But it was mixing with something darker, hotter. The power of having Chris’s complete, agonized attention.
“Stroke it,” Erna commanded Chris. “Slow. Show Nat what a real cock looks like when it’s being used properly. Which is to say, not being allowed to finish.”
Chris’s hand began to move, a long, slow drag from root to tip. A pearly bead welled up immediately, smearing across his swollen head.
“Imagine it, Chris,” Nat moaned, her own hand diving between her legs. Two fingers plunged into her cunt, her thumb finding her clit. “Imagine fucking me while he sleeps. Owning this pussy he can’t even wake up for. Stretching me so wide I’d scream.”
“He’d gag you,” Annika said conversationally. “Right, Chris? You’d shove your big dick so deep down her throat she’d choke on it. You’d fuck her ass while her boyfriend drooled on the pillow. You’re better than him. A better tool. A better slut.”
Chris’s rhythm faltered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The ache was a white-hot brand in his groin. The visual was impossibly lewd: Nat’s fingers fucking herself furiously, her body undulating on her oblivious partner, her eyes devouring the image of his masturbation.
“Getting close, isn’t he?” Erna observed coolly. “Stop.”
Chris froze, his whole body trembling. The pressure was immense, a tidal wave held back by a thread of will.
“Now, Nat,” Erna continued. “Put that little thing inside you. Let Chris watch you try to get off on a fucking pebble.”
A fresh wave of shame washed over Nat’s face, but it was molten, mixed with a terrifying arousal. She lifted herself, took Micha’s soft penis in hand, and with a grimace of concentration, tried to guide it into her body. It slipped, bending against her wetness. She had to press his pelvis up with her other hand, forcing a few scant inches of his flaccid flesh past her lips.
“Oh my god,” she gasped, and it was a sob of laughter and despair. “It’s… nothing. I can’t even feel it.”
“But you can feel wanting Chris’s, can’t you?” Annika pressed. “Your cheating little pussy is dripping for it. Tell him.”
“I want it,” Nat confessed, the words a hot, shameful rush. She began to ride the pathetic nub of flesh, her motions frantic and unfulfilling. “I want your huge fucking cock, Chris. I want you to ruin me for him. I want you to fuck me so hard he wakes up and sees what a real man can do to his girlfriend!”
Micha stirred. A soft, sleepy mumble. “Nat…?”
Everything stopped.
Nat froze, her body going rigid. On the split-screen, Annika’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a giggle. Erna’s eyes widened with pure, undiluted excitement.
Chris held his breath, his cock throbbing painfully in his stilled hand.
Micha’s eyes fluttered open. Blinked in the low light. He saw Nat above him, her face slick with sweat, her breasts heaving. He felt the faint, damp pressure at his groin. A sleepy, confused smile touched his lips. “You’re on top,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “That’s nice.”
He had no idea. The laptop was angled away, the glow just ambient light to him. He reached up, cupping her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple.
Nat’s gaze darted to the camera, to Chris. Erna gave a slow, deliberate nod.
“I… I was just,” Nat stammered, then swallowed. She forced a smile, a grotesque pantomime of affection. “I couldn’t sleep. I wanted you.”
“Mmm,” Micha sighed, his eyes closing again, his hand sliding down to her hip, encouraging her. “Go ahead, baby. Use me.”
The phrase was a dagger. Nat’s composure shattered and reformed into something vicious. She looked directly into the camera, her eyes glazing over with a fucked-out, broken heat. She began to move again, grinding down on his softness with renewed, violent purpose.
“You hear that, Chris?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over Micha’s contented sigh. “He said ‘use me’. So I am.” Her words were for the microphone, her wrecked expression for the lens. “I’m using his useless little dick while I dream about yours. I’m picturing you splitting me open. I’m imagining his face when he finally feels how loose you’ve made me.”
Micha moaned, believing it was for him. “Yeah, Nat… that’s it.”
“Don’t you dare cum, Chris,” Erna’s voice cut through, low and lethal. “You just watch. Watch what happens to good, loyal girls who don’t get the cocks they deserve. She’s breaking for you. And you don’t get to fix it. You just get to see it.”
Chris watched, his own hand trembling anew. He watched Nat’s performance, the brutal betrayal wrapped in the guise of intimacy. He saw the tear trace a path through her foundation as she fucked herself on nothing, her fantasies spilling into the air between them, a poison only he could hear. The orgasm that built in him was no longer just physical; it was a wave of complicity, of shared damnation.
Micha’s breathing hitched. “Nat… I’m gonna… I think I’m…”
He shuddered, a weak, shallow thing, and Nat felt a tiny, damp warmth inside her. That was all. He sighed, nuzzled into her neck, and within seconds, his breathing evened back into sleep.
Silence, except for Nat’s ragged panting. She stared at the screen, at Chris’s agonized face, at the triumphant smirks of her overseers.
Annika broke the quiet. “Well,” she said, her voice bright and cruel. “That was fucking tragic. And incredibly hot. I think Chris deserves a reward for watching so well. Don’t you, Erna?”
Erna leaned forward, her wicked smile filling her frame. “I do. A reward. Give us ten more edges, Chris. Right now. And think about this: tomorrow, Nat has to look her loving boyfriend in the eye. She has to kiss him. And the whole time, she’ll only be thinking about the huge, denied cock she can never have. Stroke.”
Chris’s hand moved again, the sound sticky and obscene in the quiet of his distant room. Each pull was a homage to the secret just carved into the night, a pact of misery etched in pre-cum and silent tears. The chapter of his denial had turned a new, darker page, and the narrative was now intimately, irreparably, shared.
The chapter of his denial had turned a new, darker page, and the narrative was now intimately, irreparably, shared. Chris’s tenth edge was a raw, shuddering agony, his knuckles white on his shaft. “Good boy,” Erna cooed, her approval as cold as the screen he stared into. “Now stay right there. Annika has an idea.”
Annika’s face lit up. “Oh, I do. Nat, honey, stop looking so devastated. You did great.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “But the show’s not over. Wake him up.”
Nat’s eyes, still glazed, widened in genuine alarm. “What? No. Annika, he’ll—”
“He’ll what?” Annika interrupted, a pout on her lips. “He’s your boyfriend. He loves you. He just came inside you, didn’t he? Pathetic as it was. Share the moment.” She leaned back, crossing her arms under her small breasts. “Do it, or I’ll tell Chris to cum right now and ruin Erna’s whole month of fun. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Erna, would you?”
The threat hung in the digital space. Erna’s silent, arched eyebrow was more terrifying than any shout. Nat swallowed, her throat clicking. She looked at Micha’s peaceful, trusting face. Then her fingers, still slick from herself, brushed his cheek. “Micha,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Hey. Wake up.”
He stirred, groaning. “Hmm? Baby, I’m tired. That was nice…”
“I know. But I need you to look at me.” Her tone was wrong, strained and brittle. It cut through his sleep fog. His eyes opened, focusing properly this time. He saw her intensity, the strange tension in her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern wiping away his drowsiness. He started to sit up.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Nat said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She pushed him back down gently, her hand on his chest. “I just… I want you to see something. I want you to see how wet I am for you.” The lie was corrosive. She shifted, lifting her hips off him, and his soft, wilting penis slipped from her with a faint, damp sound.
Micha’s gaze travelled down her body. In the dim light, the glistening evidence of her arousal was undeniable. A faint, proud smile touched his lips. “See?” he murmured. “I can make you feel good.”
From the laptop, a soft, derisive snort echoed. Micha’s head turned. He blinked at the screen, his brain slowly processing the image: three women watching him. His naked girlfriend. A strange man, shirtless, his hand wrapped around a monstrous, veined erection.
Confusion, then slow-dawning horror, washed over his features. “Nat… what is this?”
“It’s a call, silly,” Annika’s voice chirped from the speakers, bright and invasive. “We’re all having a little fun. Your girlfriend is amazing at multitasking.”
Micha looked from the screen to Nat, his face crumbling. “You’re… you’re on a call? While we were…?” He couldn’t say it. He looked at Chris’s cock, then down at his own, softening further into a shrivelled, ashamed curl on his thigh. The comparison was a physical blow.
“Yeah, while you were fucking her with your little worm,” Annika confirmed, delight dripping from every word. “Well, ‘fucking’ is a strong word. More like… napping inside her. She had to do all the work. But look at her! She’s sopping. Tell him, Nat. Tell him why you’re really so wet.”
Nat was trembling. Micha’s betrayed eyes were on her, pleading for an explanation that wouldn’t destroy him. The truth was a barbed wire in her throat. “I… I was thinking…”
“She was thinking about that,” Annika announced, pointing a finger at Chris’s feed. “About that huge, throbbing cock she’s been fantasizing about for weeks. The one her boyfriend, sweet as he is, could never, ever give her. She was imagining it splitting her in two while you snored. And it got her off. Didn’t it, Nat?”
Micha made a sound, a wounded animal gasp. He tried to cover himself, his hands shaking.
“Don’t cover up!” Annika snapped, her voice losing its playful edge. “Let him see. Let Chris see what a real, unimpressive cock looks like. Put your hands behind your head, Micha. Now.”
The command was so absurd, so out of place in his own bedroom, that he obeyed out of sheer shock. He laced his fingers behind his head, his elbows sticking out, exposing his hairless groin and his limp, tiny penis completely. Humiliation radiated from him in waves, a heat everyone could feel.
“See, Chris?” Annika continued. “That’s what Nat deals with. A dick so small it practically disappears when it’s soft. And it’s always soft unless she’s doing all the fucking work. Do you feel sorry for him? Or are you just proud yours is better?”
Chris couldn’t speak. His own arousal was now tangled with a deep, sickening pity. He watched Micha’s eyes fill with tears.
“Please,” Micha whispered to Nat, ignoring the screens. “Make them stop. Turn it off.”
“She can’t,” Erna said, her voice calm and final. “She’s being a good friend. She’s providing an object lesson. In adequacy.” Erna shifted her gaze to Chris. “This is what you are not, Chris. You are not inadequate. Your cock is a weapon, a treasure. And so we deny it. We cherish our control over it. His?” She flicked her eyes toward Micha. “No one wants control of that. It’s a meaningless nub. Nat would trade it for five minutes of your denied, aching shaft in a heartbeat. Wouldn’t you, Nat?”
The direct question was the final torture. Nat closed her eyes. A single tear tracked down. She gave the smallest, barely perceptible nod.
Micha saw it. The confirmation shattered whatever was left. A sob broke from him, harsh and ugly. He rolled away, turning his back to the camera, his shoulders shaking.
“Aw, he’s crying,” Annika said, her tone one of mock sympathy. “It’s okay, little guy. Some girls are just too much for some cocks. You’ll find a nice girl with a nice tight little pussy one day. Nat here needs something… wrecked.”
“Annika,” Nat breathed, a warning, but it was useless.
“You can go, Micha,” Erna said dismissively. “We’re done with you for now. Take your little penis and go sleep on the couch. The adults are still talking.”
For a long moment, Micha didn’t move. Then, with a trembling, graceless motion, he pulled the sheet around his waist and stumbled from the bed. He didn’t look back at Nat. The bedroom door closed behind him with a soft, definitive click.
The silence in the wake of his exit was heavier than any noise. Nat stared at the door, her body looking suddenly hollowed out.
“Excellent,” Erna murmured. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. Chris, you’re still painfully hard. And Nat, you’re still desperately empty. A problem and a solution, separated by miles and a few very clear rules.” She steepled her fingers. “Nat, show Chris how empty you are. Use your fingers. And Chris, you will watch, and you will not touch yourself again until I say. Understood?”
Nat’s hands, moving as if autonomous, returned to her body. She spread her legs wider for the camera, offering the view of her used, glistening sex. Two fingers slid back inside her with a wet sound, her hips lifting off the bed. Her eyes found Chris’s, and in them was a broken, hungry apology. This was their shared space now, this brutal honesty. It was all they had.
Chris watched, his own denied need a fire in his guts, as Nat fucked herself with her fingers, chasing a feeling that Micha could never provide, a feeling only the image of Chris’s denied cock could now inspire. The narrative was theirs, a closed loop of want and punishment, and the next page was already stained.