Elena lounged against her headboard, legs spread wide in a deliberate challenge to her own limits. "This pussy's mine to train, and no one's telling me otherwise," she declared with a wicked grin, her fingers already tracing lazy circles over her swollen clit. The massage gun sat ready beside her, five speeds promising chaos. She was horny, her pussy wet and dripping, but she refused to rush.
"Start on your back, hands only at first," the stern voice in her head ordered. Elena rolled her eyes but complied, smirking. "Bossy much? Watch how I handle this." Her fingers worked her clit in slow, teasing strokes, building tension without penetration, just as she'd planned. Sweat beaded on her skin as she switched positions to kneeling, ass raised high.
Without warning, she grabbed the gun and hit a random speed—three—pressing it firmly to her throbbing clit. "Shit, that's sneaky," she gasped, panting hard as vibrations rocked her. The intensity forced her to shift to standing, one leg propped on the bed, her strong thighs quivering. Speed one next, then suddenly five, making her curse and laugh. "Trying to ruin me already? Not today."
Edging hit hard; she pulled the gun away just as her body tensed, fingers taking over to keep her dripping and desperate. "Good girl, but slower now," the voice taunted. Elena shot back, "I'm no one's girl—I'm the one making this cunt sing." Her ass clenched with each denied peak, sweat slicking her body as she cycled through positions: on all fours, then squatting low.
Random speed four blasted her clit without mercy, her fingers hovering nearby but forbidden until commanded. She panted, horny beyond reason, pussy aching and wet. "Cum for me—ruined, right now," the voice demanded. Elena obeyed with a defiant moan, letting the gun push her over; she came in sharp, unsatisfying waves, cum dripping down her thighs as she fought for more.
Collapsing onto the sheets, she caught her breath, fingers idly stroking her sensitive clit. The training had worked its magic, leaving her craving the slow finger-only finish she'd promised herself. Yet the game had only begun.
"Next time, the rules get meaner."
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