“Yes,” she nodded softly. “And it’s the thought that counts.” She smirked.
Alyssa eyed him crookedly for a long time, and Brad could only try not to fidget. At last she let out her breath a trifle unsteadily. “But that training was nothing compared to what I’m gonna do to you now,” she promised him. “No, no porn magazines for you anymore, no playing with yourself—unless it’s just to get you worked up and juicy, all so that I can make you stop before you come, and then make you do it again and again, to excite you and then deny your orgasm, over and over and over, until you can scarcely stand it…”
“Like tonight,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she smiled slowly. “Only worse.”
Brad shivered.
“You will orgasm only when I command,” she explained. “At other times you will suffer and sweat and be tor
