Sex Magic the Collecting

SEX MAGIC, THE COLLECTING

A Sex Mage World “Non-Collectable” Card Game

This began as, and mostly still is, a “Porn Parody” of Magic the Gathering, with my own Sex Mage World twist to the terms and themes. However, as I started taking it a bit more seriously, the game developed to have a few of its own mechanics. It still largely plays like MtG in that it uses Spells (Sorceries and Instants) and Servants (Creatures and Artifacts), while using a different Mana Generation system. Those interested in actually playing this game could probably improvise something with actual MtG cards and some dice.

And hell, who knows, if this gets developed any further, I could even make a non-sexual spin-off for some kind of official version.

Anyway, the theme here is “Sex Magic battles” between Megami/Queen Megami to settle international conflicts. Rather than try to kill one another, they attempt to seduce and steal away the Men that the enemy Megami is using as a power source for her spells. The Megami Sex Mage who finishes the fight with the most Loyal Men is declared the winner.

HOW TO PLAY

The game requires dice and Sex Magic the Collecting cards (examples to be provided using a Card Game Maker/Editor program, feel free to make your own). Each player needs exactly 50 cards in their deck. The game also requires a minimum of 1 twelve-sided die (1d12) and 5 six-sided die per player (5d6). 

Just A Little Scene: Sleep Over?

I'm not sure where this was going. Had another idea for a weekend-long sexy teasing contest, set in the Sex Mage World, but lacked ideas for the challenges and scenes. However, I did get this "first night" scene written up, and as usual, I hate letting good scenes go to waste!

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“Well,” said Lucy, holding up the sheet and patting the spot next to her. “You going to join me?”

Frank scowled a bit. “You’re just going to tease me,” he said.

Lucy smirked. “Oh, I’ll tease you no matter what. So the choice is yours: be teased while you shiver in a corner, cold all night. Or be teased all warm and snuggly with me.” Her smirk became a mischievous smile as she watched Frank wrestle with his choices, his cock twitching in anticipation of his inevitable fate.

Finally, he caved. “Alright,” he said quietly, and came over to the bed, sliding between the sheets. She dropped the blanket over them both and had him turn so his back was to her. She spooned against him and he let out a breath as he felt her breasts press against his back. She snaked a hand around and boldly grasped his penis. He jumped at the contact, expecting a sudden rush of pleasure again. But she didn’t use her magic. Instead she gave him a gentle squeeze and slowly stroked him.

She leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck, then trailed her lips up to his ear. She whispered lightly, her breath tickling his ear and making him squirm. His hand grasped her arm just behind her wrist, but he didn’t dare try to pull her hand away from his cock. “Thank you for playing along, Frank,” she said. She kissed his cheek. “I love you so much.”

“It’s not like I… have a choice…” he said.

“Sure you do,” she said. “But every choice has consequences. I keep telling you.”

Contest of Climaxes (unfinished)

Rooting around in my "Unfinished Folder", I found a story I'd started a couple years back, but ended up writer's blocking on like a truck into a brick wall. Haven't really come up with a good way to continue, but I like what I wrote so far, so I figured I'd give it a post. Enjoy!

(This is a World of Civero story, not an SMW one.)


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ONE
When Jude opened his eyes, he expected to find himself staring at the dull grey ceiling of his apartment, the ceiling fan making its slow rotation and casting continuously warping shadows on the walls. He expected his girlfriend to be snuggled up next to him, and to be dressed in his pajamas.

He did not expect to find himself in a strange, all-white room, sitting in a chair, facing three other men, and all four of them to be naked. “What the hell?” he muttered. The other three men glanced over to him. The man across from him had long red hair and piercing blue eyes, This man was the first to speak, giving him a polite nod. “Howdy stranger,” he said. “Before you start panicking, take a deep breath. We don’t know what’s going on either.”

Bitter

Lindsay sighed as she approached her house. She could sense Paul’s extreme arousal all the way from her office, three miles away, the hum of his diamond-hard penis thrumming in her mind, louder and louder as she drove home. She walked up the steps with a deliberately slow pace, and took her time fishing her keys out of her purse. She pursed her lips as she opened the door, and saw her husband writhing naked on the floor, gasping and whimpering, his hard penis jerking repeatedly in the air. She was surprised he wasn’t humping the floor, horny as she was, but then, she remembered the no-masturbation spell she’d put on him prohibited humping attempts.

She closed the door a little louder than normal, getting Paul’s attention. He looked up at her wide eyed for a moment, starting to sit up, before a bolt of pleasure made him cry out, and knocked him on his back again, his hips thrusting into the air. He was drenched in his own pre-cum, and Lindsay watched a thread of the clear, thick fluid fling itself from his cock to land on the puddle on his stomach.

She let out an exasperated huff, dropped her purse on the nearest chair, and walked up to her husband, hands on hips, looking down at him with a scolding expression. Paul was shaking and gasping and reached out to clutch at her calf.

“Having fun down there?” she said, in an annoyed voice.

“Lindsay… baby… please…”

“Please what?”

“Please… make it stop…”

“I’m not doing it to you. This is some other woman, pleasuring you behind my back. Who is it?”

Paul’s expression scrunched to one of helplessness. “I don’t know! Please! I don’t know!” Tears welled up in his eyes, and she could see his hands shaking, fighting to clutch himself, and unable to from her restrictive magic.

Lindsay crossed her arms. “Really? So you’re saying some random woman just randomly started teasing your cock for no reason?”

”YES! No! I don’t know!” Paul gasped. “I don’t know who it is! But I--!”

“Don’t yell.”

Paul groaned, gritting his teeth. Lindsay could sense every nerve ending in his penis was being stimulated at once, a combination of feathers, tongues, and slick hands playing with him, driving him to the edge of orgasm over and over and over, but refusing to let him cum. Of course, her own orgasm block probably helped with that last part.

“Lindsay, come on! You know I can’t help it! The magic, it’s too strong! And any woman could be doing it!”

Lindsay frowned, shook her head in irritation, and stalked off, leaving him writhing. He started to beg some more, and she flicked a finger at him. His mouth clamped shut and he couldn’t speak.

It was half an hour later, after Lindsay had changed into casual clothes, gotten some water, and made herself comfortable on the couch, that the magic assaulting Paul finally ceased. The man lay in a sweaty, pre-cum covered, boneless sprawl. It took him several minutes to get the wits and strength back to stagger to his feet. He looked to Lindsay and tried to open his mouth to say something. Lindsay flicked her finger again, and his mouth was freed.

“What the fuck was that?” he said.

“I’m getting tired of bailing you out,” Lindsay replied, looking back at the TV. “If you don’t like it, stop doing whatever it is your doing to antagonize women into teasing you.”

Paul took a step forward, and his still stubbornly hard, red cock bounced. A thread of pre-cum began to drip. Lindsay glanced at it, and gave him a hard look. “Don’t drip on my carpet.”

Paul, who had looked like he was about to chew her out, jumped as he felt a sharp jolt on his cock. He held a cupped hand down below his penis head to catch the pre-cum thread, as close as he could manage to get to his penis, still several inches away.

“Lindsay…”

“Christ, Paul, go fucking shower first,” she said pointing to the stairs. “You’re fucking filthy with your own slime.”

Paul’s jaw worked, and he opened his mouth, then shut it again. She was about to jolt his penis again, but then he turned and started trudging upstairs. She did it anyway, and watched him stumble onto the steps, panicking for a second as he tried desperately to make sure his pre-cum didn’t touch the floor.

“And don’t get dressed,” she called after him, once he was out of sight. She shook her head and continued to watch the TV. A game show of sorts, where women tried to guess words and phrases that men were reading on index cards, by reading the men’s thoughts through their cocks, and the men tried their best to confuse the women, by thinking a jumble of non-sexual thoughts while they were reading. More often than not, the women figured them out rather quickly, no doubt using a few psychic teases to coax the answers out of the men’s minds.

Paul came downstairs a few minutes later, nude, his hair damp. His cock was still rock hard, twitching occasionally, but the color had faded to a less angry shade of red. He looked grumpy as he sat down next to Lindsay on the couch. Lindsay feigned ignoring him, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Several times Paul glanced at her, opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. His cock twitched now and then, still stubbornly refusing to go soft after so many edges, as if demanding she do something about it.

Lindsay suppressed a sigh. Men and cocks. So needy. Sure, their frustration fueled women’s sexual magic, but the constant neediness could get grating after a while. Paul opened his mouth, then shut it again for the dozenth time, and Lindsay finally turned to him, giving him a flat look. “What?”

Paul swallowed, uncertain he should speak. Lindsay didn’t bother reading his mind, content to let him wrestle with himself to voice his thoughts. She remembered when they were first going out, how bold and assertive Paul had been. Unafraid to say what he wanted, even as a girl had him on his knees, shaking and burning for relief. Twenty years of Sex Magic, however, had blunted his assertiveness quite a bit. The same went for almost all men, really.

“I just…” Paul began, then hesitated again.

“Spit it out.”

“You just… I…” Paul was almost shaking as he tried to force himself to find the words.

Lindsay turned back to the TV and gave him several minutes to attempt to articulate his thoughts. She listened to the psychic thrum of his cock, the buzzing of his full balls, rise and fall as his fear almost started to ease his sexual tension, only for his lust-drenched thoughts to make the tension surge again.

Ten years ago, Paul would have been on his feet, standing firm, jaw set, as he gave her a piece of his mind, talking her down from tormenting him, demanding she respect him and his needs. And while she might have tried to seduce him into submission, seeing him stand strong would send a tingle through her pussy. Such “arguments” usually ended with him shooting his load down her throat or deep into her pussy. She felt that tingle now, just thinking about it.

But it had been quite a long time since then. Passionate love making, surrendering to his power, had gradually given way to more and more pity fucks, until that was all it was anymore. She barely allowed him to cum at all, never let him touch himself. A part of her wanted to pity him. There really was no way a man could help it. They couldn’t stop the magic, they had no way of resisting. It really wasn’t their fault. And yet, seeing her husband reduced to a simpering toady sex toy by her mere thoughts, there was just no denying how turned off she felt.

Such a cruel irony, really. The more helpless horny and worshipful he became of her, the less interested she became. But just telling him that, somehow, would be worse. He’d be faking it just to try and please her. It wouldn’t be the genuine dominance he used to have, that sheer male power that had made her weak in the knees and obsessed with his cock. By the time she realized the tables were flipped, however, it was too late to fix.

Come on, she thought. Stand up for yourself. Give me one inkling that you still have a spine left, and I’ll suck the cum out of your cock until you don’t have a single drop left. She felt the tingle between her legs grow, and she flexed her thighs. Come on. Yell at me. Try to hit me. Try something, you gutless little shit.

Paul swallowed hard again and set his jaw. Lindsay felt the tingle in her core, waiting for him to give her what she wanted, what she realized she needed. What they both needed.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Paul said meekly.

Lindsay felt the tingle immediately go still, felt the moist heat between her legs dry up almost instantly. Lindsay glanced at him, her expression cold. She let out an exasperated sigh. Then, with a thought, she channeled her magic at Paul’s penis. Paul cried out as the sensations he’d felt earlier, the feathers and tongues and slick hands, returned to his cock, three times as intense as before. His cock jerked as it went as hard as possible, immediately trying to cum. His balls burned with the need for release she denied him.

Paul whimpered and mewled as he flopped onto the floor, writhing and begging between gasps. Lindsay let out another sigh and stood, clicking off the TV and going up to their bedroom. She left Paul there on the living room floor, helpless, tormented, useless to her, save as a battery for her magic. She would leave him there for the rest of the night. Maybe after a good nights sleep, she’d feel enough sympathy to release him.

Stripping off her clothes and laying on the bed, she let the waves of Paul’s lustful energy imbue her as she reached down and touched herself. She masturbated to memories of Paul dominating her with his powerful, manly bearing, huge cock, and his ability to put her in place. It had been years since he’d been able to do that, but the memories were still sharp and fresh in her mind. She cried out and softly begged Paul for mercy as she took over an hour to tease herself, building herself up to climax, only to back off and let the tingling warmth shiver through her.

When she finally let herself cum, she shrieked Paul’s name. Downstairs, Paul was too far gone in his own sexual torment to notice. Bitterly, Lindsay tripled the intensity of sensations Paul was feeling. She let Paul’s howls and pleas lull her to sleep.

Retail Hell

“Look, I just want to get a little bit of a discount, okay?” the cute, twenty-something blond woman leaned forward a bit as she showed the picture frame to Mark. She held the frame up and pointed at it in just such an angle that Mark was unable to avoid seeing her cleavage from her low-cut shirt. Mark swallowed hard as his cock flexed in his pants. “See, there’s a little nick in the corner here.” The woman’s cherry red nail tapped at the corner of the frame, indicating a small, slightly discolored groove. However, given that the frame itself was already sporting a complex weave design, it was difficult to tell if the “little nick” in the wood was not actually part of the design. As far as Mark could tell, it was supposed to be there. But this would not be the first customer to try and fret over a miniscule detail in the hopes of shaving a couple extra pennies off the price.

“Ma’am, I really think it’s part of the—” Mark gasped as he felt the sensation of a hot, warm tongue suddenly lick along the length of his cock. He swallowed hard as his cock flexed once again, straining in his pants. “P-part of the design! I d-don’t think I can give you a—” He felt the tongue lick him again.

“Are you sure?” said the woman, giving him a doe-eyed innocent look. “Not even just a little discount? I’m kind of on my lunch break here, I don’t have all day to haggle.”

The Bench

Phil had given up struggling against his bonds. There was no breaking the women’s magical restraints, and even if he somehow could break them, it’s not like he could go anywhere to hide. In a world of Sex Mages, and especially in a small town like this, he’d be lucky to get a block before a woman would catch him and “put him back where he belonged.”

Where he belonged right now was sitting on the recently constructed wooden bench that circled the garden and fountain centerpiece of the town square. He, and a few other men dispersed among the bench, sat with their arms pinned over the backs of the bench, their feet planted firmly on the ground, with their legs spread wide. They were all nude, and frozen in place, the only movements they could make being to blink, breathe, and twitch their rock hard cocks. These were the modern day “stocks,” and had become the primary means of punishment for male criminals since the town had become part of a new Queendom.

Men who were punished this way were pinned for days to the benches with magic, their genitals free game for any woman who wished to tease them mercilessly, without relief. On the plus side, the magic’s healing side effects kept the men from getting hurt; they suffered neither sunburn nor chill nor hunger while they were pinned, and despite not moving for hours on end, their muscles didn’t cramp, nor did they suffer sores.

However, such pains would have been nothing compared to the agony of teasing they received. The sheer sexual tension drove the men to the brink of insanity, their penises and testicles aching with extreme need, even as the women of the town visited pleasures upon them so frequently and intensely that the pleasure itself became a sort of pain, magnified by the refusal to allow the men to cum.

This was Phil’s first turn on the stocks. He’d been skimming money from the registers at the store he worked at, careful to avoid any security cameras while he did so. Stupidly, he’d thought he’d get away with it, because his intentions and actions weren’t in the least bit sexual, thus women weren’t going to detect his thoughts on the matter. He’d always heard a woman could only read the sexual thoughts and memories of a man. Apparently, that was only to start with. A woman who’d been in enough sexual contact with a man could go deeper. So when his ex-girlfriend appeared at his store and took a peek in his mind, he’d been found out instantly. Ever ready for payback, she’d reported him immediately.

And so, here he was on the stocks. He’d only been there for a day, and he was already ready to cut his penis and testicles off with a rusty spoon if it meant never having to experience this kind of punishment again. He was so horny, so agonized by the need for relief, he was all but delirious with lust-fever. And not a single woman who passed him by gave him even a hint of pity, even as fresh new sensations tenderly assaulted his genitals and libido, lovingly brutalizing him the way only a woman could.

“So stupid,” he heard a woman say. His attention drew towards his right, where a few feet away, another man was pinned down. He couldn’t quite make out who it was, as he couldn’t turn his head to look. But he could see the two women, dressed in business suits and standing with their arms crossed, clucking their tongues at the other man. From the way he was slouched, Phil could just barely see the man’s penis, beet red with tension, quivering between his legs like a vibrator. The women laughed at his suffering. “You’d think these boys would realize at some point how powerless they are. But some men just never quite believe what we can do to them. Isn’t that right, Frank?”

Frank… Frank… he’d heard something about him in the paper. Frank had tried to force himself on a woman he’d thought didn’t have her powers yet. Absolutely desperate from months without relief. Now, they were saying he’d be fixed with a permanent orgasm block, even after a week on the Bench. Phil felt a sympathetic pang of dread for the man. Of course, he shouldn’t have forced himself on the woman. But then again, the things women did to them, driving men out of their minds with lust whether they deserved it or not…

Phil blinked as he saw the women snap their gaze towards him, sensing his thoughts. One of them smirked, and sauntered over to him, while the other stayed focused on Frank. The woman, dressed in light grey business attire, appraised Phil, and smirked as she saw his penis throbbing. “So, what did you do to be here, hmm?” Brazenly, she grabbed his penis, and gazed into his eyes. She could feel her mind rooting through his thoughts. “Robbery, huh? And you thought you’d get away with it because it didn’t have anything to do with your cock?” She pulled her hand back and watched his cock jerk in a futile attempt to cum, just from her brief touch. “Silly boy. Your cock is all you are.”

A muffled cry suddenly sounded, and Phil glanced back over to Frank. He was flushed and sweating, and his penis looked even harder and darker than before, if it was possible. It was also literally vibrating now, actually causing a low buzzing sound. The woman standing before him had a wicked grin on her face. Frank was mewling pitifully, his tormentor visiting maddening sensations upon his genitals without even bothering to touch him.

“Hey. Cock.” Phil glanced back to the woman standing in front of him. “What’s the most humiliating thing a woman has ever done to you?”

Phil tried desperately not to think of it, but of course, it was fruitless. Tell someone not to think of pink elephants, what’s the first thing that will flash into their minds? And so, Phil blushed as he remembered a time at a college party, when his then girlfriend, drunk on booze and her newly awakened Sex Magic, had made him strip naked and get on all fours in front of everybody. She and her sorority sisters had made a game of blind “pin the shoe on the ass.” The girls, drunk and stumbling, had tried taking a five inch heel and burying it in his asshole. His girlfriend had managed it, and she had worked it in just right that he had almost orgasmed right there.

Of course, he’d been orgasmed blocked, but every woman sensed his edging, and roared with laughter, taking pictures as he thrashed and cried at edge of release, his girlfriend freezing him in place with her magic as she slowly worked the heel in and out, twisting it to probe his prostate. The next day, he’d broken up with her, and pictures of him getting buttfucked with a shoe had been plastered over his FapReport page.

He had been just one of a dozen men played with at the party that way, but that had remained the most embarrassing moment of his life. The woman before him giggled as she read his thoughts. “Oh, my,” she said. “You poor thing. Well. I’ll make this feel gentle then.” She winked and Phil’s eyes went wide as he felt that hauntingly familiar sensation of a hard heel penetrating his sphincter, the edges lightly scratching along his walls, before rocking slowly back and forth.

Oh, God, why were women given this power? To just, with a mere thought, send a man spiraling into an utter hell of inhuman ecstasy without release? The woman laughed and leaned forward, her lips and breath tickling his ear in a way that made him swoon, even despite the torment she was visiting upon him. “Because, sweetie,” she said, huskily. “It’s what you men deserve. You were meant to be tortured by us women. It’s what you were built for. The Goddess wouldn’t have given you penises if she didn’t intend for us women to play with and tease them.”

She then laughed again and stood tall, giving him another wink, before walking back over to her friend and Frank, leaving Phil to stew in the sensations assaulting his ass. And poor Frank all but bellowed as the other woman rejoined in the fun, doing something to Frank that Phil couldn’t even imagine. But he had his own torment to worry about now, and all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and try not to cry from the frustration and humiliation.

The sensations lasted a few more hours, sending him into a heady haze, even as other random licks and strokes and feather swipes and squeezes assaulting his genitals over and over. He was leaking pre-cum like a faucet by this point, staining the wood of the bench. He occasionally came out of his stupor as a few more people came up to play with him in person. At one point, two girls he vaguely recognized as new hires at his store, sat on either side of him. They were not quite old enough to have Sex Magic of their own, but compensated by bringing feathers to idly tease him with while they chatted about teenager nonsense.

At some point, they left, and some other young girl was there, holding his cock between her ample breasts, staring at his face with wide, curious eyes. Energy was flowing from her skin into him, supercharging his cock. She would occasionally lean her head down and lick a drop of pre-cum from his tip, but he was already steadily leaking over her breasts. A younger woman, perhaps only just gaining her Magic, and curious to try it out, studying her effects on him. He lost track of time, but it was getting dark by the time she left.

As people went home for the night, the teasing relented, until he could get his wits about himself. He and the other men sat in the dark, still unmoving. Phil wondered if they would finally be granted a reprieve, be allowed to sleep and rest before the teasing torment picked up again the in morning.

No such luck. Less than hour after the shops around the town square closed, and the pedestrian traffic dried up, the street lights went out, dousing the men in nothing by starlight. And then, they could hear footsteps approaching.

Phil’s heartbeat quickened as he saw the silhouettes of women approaching. One in particular came towards him, and though it was hard to tell with only starlight to light the area, he realized she was naked.

Even as she came right up to him, he couldn’t see her face in the darkness. He could, however, feel her warmth, her soft but firm skin as she brushed against him. She climbed onto his helpless body, sitting on his lap. He could feel the wet heat from her pussy, less than an inch from his cock. She leaned forward and lightly pressed her breasts to his face, then shifted to the side, lightly dragging her hard nipples over his lips. Instinctively, he tried to open his mouth to fasten his lips around her breasts, entranced by her touch. Even as badly as he needed to cum, his male instinct was to try and pleasure her, to draw affection from her body.

And then she hugged him, pressing his face between her breasts until he couldn’t breathe, before shifting her hips and taking his hard cock fully inside. Phil screamed in both panic and painfully intense pleasure. She rocked her hips and her breath became husky as she fucked him, first sweetly slow, then gradually increasing to a wild pistoning. She gasped and cried and whimpered as she pleased herself with his helpless body, using him like a living dildo. All the while, she kept his face pressed against her, preventing sight, and breath, her magic keeping him sustained even as his lungs screamed for air. But even the need to breathe was eclipsed by the intensity of his need to cum.

His mind went into a surreal headspace, half-unconscious, but unable to pass out, pleasure and pain pounding through his body. He heard feminine shrieks of pleasure, and felt her body shudder in orgasm on his, and her climax briefly spiked the sensations even stronger. But she kept going, as he could swear he heard the gasps and cries of other women and man as well. The other men on the bench must also be getting used, but at the moment, he was too far gone to logic that out. He thought he was hallucinating from the sensation overload, or that the woman riding him was using some kind of psychic trick.

He didn’t know how long she was on him, but eventually, the sensations faded, and he gradually became aware again. He must have been permitted to pass out at some point, because when his eyes fluttered open again, it was morning, and the town square was already bustling with people starting their daily routines. The woman was long gone.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His cock was throbbing, but no one was teasing it at the moment, and the ache of tension had faded. He’d been in the stocks for only a day, it already felt like forever. He didn’t think he could take three more days of this.

He became aware of a shadow falling over him, and he opened his eyes. If he could have moved, he would have jumped, but all he could do was blink. His cock twitched as he recognized his most recent ex-girlfriend, Julia.

“You seem to be having fun,” she said, giving him a look of bored tolerance. She squinted at him a moment and he could feel her in his mind, probing his thoughts. “Wow, you got lucky last night. First time actually touching a woman since me, huh? Ouch, and she was rough.”

Mentally, he was trying not to panic, the rush of sexual memories making his heart beat faster, and his cock throb. Julia smirked as she watched his memories stream by. She reached down and gave the end of his cock a sharp flick. He blinked, the closest he could come to wincing. “What did I tell you about thinking that way about me, hmm? We’re not a couple anymore, so you don’t get to have erotic thoughts about me.”

Phil let out a pitiful moan. As if he could even remotely help it! And she knew he couldn’t, either. And she didn’t care. Any excuse to punish him.

“Stop it,” she scolded. She flicked the end of his cock sharply several times, something she loved to do to humiliate and chastise him when they’d been together. So of course, the flicking did nothing to help him stop thinking about their time together. Her fingers drifted down to his swollen testicles. His eyes widened, but he could do nothing to stop her as she flicked them hard with every syllable. “I. Said. Stop. It.” Tears streams from his eyes as pain exploded in his balls, and he instinctively fought the mystical bindings to try and curl up. He barely managed to twitch his fingers and toes, the most movement he’d managed since being bound down.

Julia shook her head and tsked at him. “Hopeless,” she said. She gave his penis head one more flick, gentler this time, and turned to walk away. Then she paused and turned back. “Almost forgot,” she said, and dug into her purse. She pulled out a black thong, the kind she used to wear when they were first dating. “Wore this for three days straight,” she said as she affixed the lingerie to his head, the stained crotch right over his nose. Her scent assailed his nostrils, and he couldn’t help but remember all the times she’d ridden his face while his cock went untouched all night. “There you go,” she said, and laughed. She pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. “A few for the profile.” She laughed again as she turned and walked off, leaving him to grow dizzy from her scent burning through his nostrils with every breath. As she walked away, a new wave of feather sensations picked up on his balls and shaft, swirling around the head, making his penis burn with pleasure too intense to handle.

He’d only been on the bench a single day and night so far, and he had two more to go. At this point, he would have rather taken a few years in prison. He had no idea how he was going to survive the Bench with his sanity intact.

Just A Little Scene: Holding Out

Pete’s on his Playstation again when I get home from work. I don’t even need to be a mindreader to know he’s been playing video games all day. I frown as I come into the room and he pretends to ignore me. I watch him for a few moments while he blows away soldiers on the screen in some war simulator. Neither of us says anything. I shake my head and turn to go to the bathroom.

As I turn, I can sense him giving my back a glance. I cock my hips just so as I walk, and I sense his penis twitch in his pants. I hold back a chuckle as I sense him mentally fighting it, trying to stop himself from getting hard. I let him try, knowing how difficult it is for him at this point.

I haven’t let him cum in almost five weeks. He’s pissed as hell, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He thinks he can somehow outlast me. Thinks I’ll slip up and my orgasm denial spell will just wear off on its own, or I’ll somehow get tired of denying him. Fat chance. A man’s determination utterly pales compared to a woman’s grudge. Besides, Sex Magic stacks the deck so high against boys, it’s really quite pathetic. But I’m not complaining. He wants to be stubborn, that’s on him. I told him what he has to do to cum. But his silly male pride is as much a downfall as that silly little thing between his legs.

Heh, well, not so little really. Quite big, in fact. And that just makes him even more fun to fuck with. And just plain fuck, of course. But he thinks because he’s that big, he’s somehow so much more powerful, so much mightier than he is. I wonder if that’s why the word for excess pride is “cocky.” Men are so proud of their hard, needy members, even in a world where women can utterly control them through those members with their mere thoughts.

As I change out of my work clothes in the bedroom, I sense him still struggling with his cock. He’s losing the battle, his penis stiffening slowly, but inevitably. He wants to reach down and adjust himself, maybe rub himself a little to calm down, but I have spell preventing that as well. His hands can only touch his crotch if he’s totally flaccid. Once he’s even a quarter hard, a little magic barrier keeps him from touching his groin. It’s certainly made things interesting in public sometimes.

I chuckle softly as I sense his thoughts whirl. He’s wondering if I’m using my magic to force him to be hard. I’m not. I’m not doing a thing. He’s just pent up, and he’s so turned on by me, even when he’s mad at me. Especially when he’s mad at me. Because he knows how powerless he is against me. And in some twisted fetish way, that just turns him on more and more.

I could start casting spells on him to tease him some more. But I know something that’ll rile him up harder than any spell I could cast. See, if I use my magic, he can rationalize that it’s not his fault he’s so turned on by me. But if I just let his natural male urges churn and boil inside him, let his own thoughts whip him into a frenzy, all I have to do is use natural female charm to turn him into putty.

I don’t bother getting dressed. I walk out of the bedroom naked. I pass through the living room, ignoring him. But he can’t ignore me. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a flash of bare flesh, and instinct takes over, forcing his gaze away from his game. So much for trying to use video games as a distraction. He catches a glimpse of my bare ass as I go into the kitchen. I hold back a laugh as I sense his cock instantly surge to full hardness, his heartbeat and breath quickening. I take my time in the kitchen, letting him sweat it out, anticipating seeing me naked again. I haven’t strut around the house nude for a while. But today I feel like twisting the knife.

After twenty minutes of pretending to be busy, listening to his cock stay iron hard, I get a glass of water and come out into the living room. I sit on the chair next to the couch, crossing my legs. I make sure he gets a glimpse of my bare pussy for an instant. His breath catches. He fumbles in the game and loses a life. He grits his teeth, but doesn’t say anything. He tries to keep his gaze riveted to the screen, while I sit there, watching him play, slowly taking sips from the glass. His eyes keep darting over to me, tracing the curves of my legs and breasts, watching my red lips touch the glass, watching my throat work. Memories of sex flash through his mind, of the times I would swallow his cum like it was my lifeblood, of the times I let him fuck my tits, of the times he had me screaming in helpless ecstasy while he railed me doggy style.

We hadn’t had sex in five weeks either. Oh, he wanted to fuck me. He wanted me so bad right now, he’d pounce on me and pound into me like a mad man if he could. But more spells prevented it. He couldn’t initiate sex. No fucking. No masturbating. No cumming. For five whole weeks. And all he had to do to end the torment was give me an apology and admit that I was right. But his pride wouldn’t let him. I wondered how long it could hold out. He could be quite stubborn. But then, so could I. And I was the one with the magic.

Speaking of which, it was time to up the ante. I could have sat here all night, letting him work himself into a lather. But the longer this little “fight” we had went on, the more ruthless I can be. I uncross my legs and held them slightly apart, enough to make my pussy just visible. Then I let out a slow breath and relax that little, inner part of me, opening the door to my power just a crack. From my pussy, magic flows, invisible, but unavoidable. Pure arousal fills the room, and his cock soaks it up like a lightning rod.

His cock goes from iron hard to diamond hard. With my senses, I can see his naked body right through his clothing, and I watch his cock grow beet red with tension, the head and testicles swelling tight as a drum, and darkening to deep purple, the veins bulging and pulsing along his shaft. I sense in his mind, the need for sex deepening, the ache for intimacy burning hotter.

He lets out a shaky breath, but bites his cheek. He’s determined not to beg. Not to give in. I let the magic flow stronger. His cock can’t possibly get any harder, but the mental pressure continues to grow. Soon, he is shaking, not even playing the game anymore, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries, and fails, to shut me out. I let him struggle for several more minutes, then stand and walked up to him.

I push his legs open and step between them. He drops the controller and leans back on the couch, hips squirming, cock clenching. His eyes are tightly shut, his hands balled into fists, his teeth grit. I let the magic flow even stronger. His penis begins to vibrate like a battery-powered dildo, the tent in his pants ruffling at high speed.

“Well?” I say softly, huskily. My voice reverberates across his mind, shaking his will. But he holds strong. Even as his breath starts coming in gasps, he shakes his head vigorously, denying me his submission. So stubborn. So strong. And all mine. God, I love him, even if he does tick me off sometimes. I feel my pussy moisten watching him valiantly struggle against me. He catches a whiff of my scent, and he almost cracks, but chokes back his words into a whimper.

I stand there for another minute, pushing bucketfuls of arousal into him, his cock vibrating so fast, I can feel the heat throbbing straight through his pants. His brain would turn into mush if I kept him like this any longer. I wait until a split second before it would be too late. Then finally, I step back and cut off the signals.

He sags in his seat, his genitals aching and throbbing, but he can’t even cup them. I reach down and give the tent in his pants a nice, hard flick. He cries out and bucks fiercely as he tries to cum, but only succeeds in a fierce edging. As he writhes, I walk back into the bedroom and put on a robe, satisfied I’ve made my impression for the day.

I wonder how many more days he can hold out. He is just a man, after all. His penis will betray him. It’s inevitable. Me, even without Sex Magic, I can wait as long as I have to, and I will. The Magic just makes it more fun.