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 Trainee Nurse

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   Chapter 4 - Liz

   As is the way with children, Cathy has never given much thought to her
mother's own view of events.  Wrapped up in her personal sexual life, Cathy
has never wondered about her mother's sexuality.  She experiences her
mother's impingement on her own sphere, but neither perceives nor wonders
what lies beyond that.  If she had known, she would be surprised.

   --------

   Liz's own upbringing had been quite strict and Christian, though much
more 'normal' than Cathy's.  She'd met Jim Donalds (also from a devout
family) at 20, and married a year later, deeply in love.  He'd inherited
some money so they were relatively well off, owned their house, and his job
paid well.  Cathy was born a year later, but sadly Liz was unable to
conceive again.  Both Liz and Jim had been entirely inexperienced in sex
(no sex ed in those days!) and although Liz very quickly became very
enthusiastic in bed, she always found herself still on fire when Jim had
spent and done.  For his part, he knew no better than to pump for a while,
spurt and quit, and only vaguely seemed to comprehend that Liz wasn't as
'finished' as he was.  She'd never even heard of masturbation, and since
she loved him very much she put her own frustration down to 'the way it
is', and bore it.  Liz had never yet had an orgasm.  They had intended to
have more children, and Jim had been dutifully saving his lovemaking for
her most fertile times of each month.  After the discovery of her
infertility nearly a year after the birth, for a while they had considered
that perhaps they should abstain completely.  After all, the Bible taught
that the purpose of sex was procreation, not mere sensual pleasures.  So
they had seriously attempted to avoid 'sinful' sex.

   The attempt had lasted almost two months.  Their first discovery after
about three weeks, was that since Jim had become accustomed to having sex
regularly, attempting total abstemption resulted in frequent instances of
night time priapism.  Her own feelings had been mixed.  On the one hand
she'd find her own body flaring with heat at the sight of his rigid member,
her sex growing moist and swollen, both her vagina and her mind missing the
sensation of his shaft thrusting inside her.  But she knew how much worse
her ache would be afterwards, and she didn't miss that.  They had discussed
the problem, and Jim had agreed with her that they should continue their
abstinence, and hopefully his problem would resolve in time.  Since he
hadn't had anything like this difficulty with his body before they were
married.

   However his condition had continued to worsen as more weeks passed,
becoming quite chronic.  It got to the stage where his organ would spring
fully erect as soon as they prepared for bed, and stay that way the whole
night, every night.  Even the slightest touch to his rigid organ would make
him jerk and catch his breath, and he'd taken to sleeping on his back,
naked and sheets thrown back to avoid an almost uncontrolable tendency of
his hips to thrust whenever the tight purpled head of his shaft rubbed
against the bedclothes.  More and more often during these nights she'd be
woken by small noises and movement, to find him gasping and moaning in his
sleep, hips thrusting his hard member into the air as if in intercourse. 
Each time she'd gently woken him, uncertain if it was the right thing to
do, but acting out of respect for his determination not to spend his seed
sinfully.

   One hot night, lying naked in the cooling draft of the fan, she had been
staring mesmerised at his shaft standing vertical in the dimness as he lay
on his back attempting to sleep.  She could tell he was wide awake, and
suffering.  Every now and then his penis would give a jerk, or he'd make a
small, pained sound under his breath, or his hips would tilt up slightly.

   Every time his penis jerked, she'd felt an echoing twitch in her own
sex, now aching and moist.  She'd thought of his seed, of no use in
bringing her children but still building inside him, obviously aching for
release.  She tried to imagine how it must feel for him, a pressure growing
and growing, unrelieved and unable to escape, a driving need that his will
must constantly battle in his waking hours, until eventually it would
bypass his willpower and spurt forth by sheer physical necessity in his
sleep.  If she missed the signs and did not wake him.  Or if she... 
decided not to wake him, but instead just lie there and watch his emission
spurt into the air.  Her own sex had flared with an intensity of fullness
that had made her want to moan.  She imagined his need must be far more
demanding than anything her imagination could conceive, since her body had
no fluids building within to expel.  She thought of her pregnancy with
Cathy, how her body had felt so incredibly full, then demanded she give
birth at her term.  The incredible force of that process, the absolute
imperative to expell, to create a life.  That perhaps Jim was trying to
fight a need grown as strong as that.

   Right then she'd taken pity on him, deciding this simply wasn't working.
Softly whispering "Take me!" she reached and pulled him towards herself,
onto her as she spread her legs and welcomed his thick shaft into her
warmth.  He had cried out with pleasure as he thrust deeply into her, lay
still but quivering fully within her a moment, then rather than beginning
to piston himself in her as she'd expected, his whole body jerked and she
felt the pulsing and jetting of his semen into her as he grunted in the
spasms of orgasm.  With each hard spurting of warmth into her she'd cried
out in pleasure with him, her heat rising and rising with each spurt, a
huge tension building in her belly as she felt herself growing full with
his seed, more amazed with each jetting jerk of his hips, as it went on and
on, for more than she'd ever known him to spasm in her before.

   Eventually he'd finished, and lay on her silently for a while, before
lifting himself and rolling to the side, hugging her as she lay still on
her back, legs apart, her sex throbbing more urgently than she'd ever
known, so full of his fluids she could feel their presence and the overflow
trickling down from her sex.  As he fell asleep while her own heart
hammered still in need, she considered her own feelings.  Partly she ached
with an urgent, wild desire to feel him thrusting hard and continuously in
her, as he would at times in the past.  So strong now that she had to
struggle to hold her body still, to control her breathing, to let him
sleep. Tempering that frustrated need, there was also a deep feeling of
fulfilment and satisfaction, centered in the feel of his seed pooled within
her, bathing her womb, and a wash of love for him, and pleasure in having
relieved his needs, so he could at last sleep soundly with her in his arms.
She decided that on the whole, the frustration was a burden she could bear.
She wondered what it must feel like, to have one's physical desire so
completely satiated as his seemed to be after taking her.  Rather than to
bear them fading away so slowly from such a peak of urgent wanting as hers
did after their lovemaking.

   Later in the night she found that her idea he'd been 'completely
satiated' was apparently wrong, for three more times that night he'd woken
with his member rigid, and taken her urgently and strongly.  Each time he'd
lasted longer than the previous time, till in the early morning she'd lain
under his pounding urgent thrusts for nearly an hour, clutching at his
behind with her hands as they both grunted like animals with each drive of
his stone hard member in her very liquid but burning sex.  He'd got up and
showered after finishing, while she had risen still aching with need for
more, toileted, and gone to prepare him breakfast in her slippers and
dressing gown.

   Over breakfast they'd discussed their 'abstinence' again, and this time
the theory won out that they were man and wife and thus sex must be only a
fairly minor sin, even if due to their misfortune procreation was not a
possibility.  She had agreed that it was unrealistic to expect him to
retain his fluids within, and that she would henceforth service his
physical needs as a wife should, whenever he felt the desire.  He'd left
for work, and she'd sat for a long time in the kitchen with her sex still
throbbing, daydreaming of the pleasures he brought her, and that really,
this aftermath of her own sexual feelings did after all have it's element
of pleasure.  Frustrating yes, but also rather nice.  Something she could
happily bear for her man.

   She hadn't thought about how things would go from there, other than
expecting to have to bear the frustrating pleasures of lovemaking
frequently for a few days before settling back into something like their
past routine of a few times a month.  However somehow that didn't happen.
Perhaps it was his experience of going without her, or the knowledge that
there would be no child.  Or perhaps how that first night after the long
pause, when she had for the first time ever lost her self control and
bucked and moaned franticly back at him as he took her repeatedly through
the night, and her own desperate desires rose to heights of urgency she'd
never imagined.  They cooled slowly too, and each time he spent in her,
rested with her panting, fevered body in his arms, then hardened to take
her again, he found her eager and hungry.

   In any case as the days passed and became weeks, 'their new routine' was
not what she'd expected.  There was rarely a night he did not take her at
least twice, and every morning began with that hard thrusting flesh deep in
her body.  Often she would feel it first in her dreams, and awaken to find
herself already being vigorously taken as wife.  One Saturday morning,
after he had finished spurting into her and they were resting in each
other's arms, her sex throbbing with the ache and slightly sore from the
four times he had used her since yesterday, she had wondered aloud to him
if perhaps he wasn't overdoing it.  He'd asked her to repeat the agreement
they'd made.

   She'd repeated her own words, the saying of them making the throbbing of
her sex even stronger - "You may use me whenever you feel the desire." He'd
hugged her tighter, and replied that he loved her very much.  Also, that
somehow the very idea of her being so willing seemed to inflame his desire.
He thought it was something to do with her marriage vow to 'love and obey
him' - whenever he thought of that, and her agreeing to let him have her
whenever he wished, well...  He lifted the sheets, and showed her that he
was erect again, only a few minutes since he last came.  He'd hesitated a
moment, then whispered to her "I'm going to take you again now.  I want you
to say something for me, and keep saying it as we make love." As he'd
lifted over her and thrust his hardness into her, he'd prompted her.  So
between her gasps she had breathed "Take me whenever you want, I am yours"
over and over.  That morning he had pounded into her with a new fierceness.
After a few minutes he'd shocked her by telling her to lift her legs,
bringing them up and placing them over his shoulders, raising her pelvis
high.  He'd even stuffed some pillows under her back, propping her up with
her sex more exposed than she'd ever imagined.  He'd continued with his
thrusting, now penetrating deeper than she'd ever felt before.  Feeling as
if he was knocking the breath out of her from inside, so she was barely
able to keep repeating the mantra.

   He'd kept going for a very long time that morning, before finally
spurting and letting her lie flat again.  For much of the time she'd been
nearly delerious with the glorious, searing sensations, that felt like a
heaven of pleasure crossed with some kind of hell of agonising tension, as
if she would somehow explode at any moment, at some unknown slightest push,
that she didn't understand, she feared, yet wanted desperately.  So
desperately, that she thrust and bucked in complete abandon under him, her
body threshing with a desire that scorched her mind.  So much so that even
after he'd eventually finished and withdrew to lie beside her, she'd still
been moaning and undulating her hips against the air, against him,
thrusting desperately on emptiness as she still repeated her line over and
over - "Take me, use me, ohhhh take me, whenever you want, take me, I'm
yours, ohhhh pleeese take me..." She'd held him tightly, then he'd pulled
away, rolled from the bed and stood beside it, staring down at her in awe
and love.  "Stay like that." She'd barely been aware of his words, and
hadn't thought to stop anyway, but somehow her perception that he was
enjoying watching her sexual heat, fanned that heat and kept it burning. 
She lay there naked and sheened with sweat, hands gripping fistfulls of the
sheets by her sides, twisting and panting in a torment of desire, of
unbearable yet beautiful tension, thrusting her swollen, throbbing sex up
in offering to him, every fibre of her soul devoting herself to serve his
pleasure, to welcome him inside her, at his wish.

   He'd stood there for an age, then bent down and kissed her on the
forehead.  "Beautiful!  I'll be back in a minute darling, stay there." A
few moments later he returned with a tray, cups, and fruit juice, set then
on the bedside table, poured the juice, then lay back down with her.  They
stayed in bed most of that Saturday, and he'd taken her several more times.
The new position became his favourite, since it gave him the maximum
penetration.  He described to her how wonderful it felt; the sensation of
her sex lips wrapped tightly around his shaft right down at it's base,
pressing hard against his pubis.  He'd delight in sometimes stopping his
usual hard thrusting, and slide himself very slowly into her depths, then
hold it pressed tightly in, further than he'd ever been able to in their
usual missionary position.  He'd tell her to hold still, to stop the
bucking of her hips as his manhood pushed almost painfully deep in her made
her inner tension flare with urgent need for more, for...  something. 
She'd try her best, but it was soooo difficult to control her body, when
she could barely form a coherent thought.

   And so it went.  Before that morning he'd been taking her usually twice
or more a day.  After, there would also be weekend days when they'd hardly
get out of bed.  Her whispered 'take me' became the constant demonstration
of her vow to obey his will.  Somehow she couldn't think of any reasons to
object, no matter how much her whole body throbbed with heated, tingling
need long after every time he spent in her.  Finished, he'd roll over and
sleep, or get up and dress, or sometimes cuddle her lovingly for a while...
before rolling over and sleeping, dressing, or sometimes, if admiring 'his
sexy, beautiful, always ready darling' aroused him again, taking her once
more.

   Really, she found the lovemaking heavenly.  It was only the times in
between...  What with being so frequently stimulated, her days were rarely
free of that throbbing, aching fullness of her sex.  There was the
household to maintain, and the baby to look after, but more and more she
found herself drifting for long moments, dreaming of last night's
lovemaking, or tonight's; with the heat billowing up from her crotch and
enveloping her, body and mind.  Wishing for more, dreading it, aching
with....  frustrated excitement, her mind spinning with sexual thoughts. 
She wondered if she was being tempted by the Devil somehow, although she
couldn't see how that could be, if she was only doing her duty in serving
her husband's needs.  Somehow she found it particularly disturbing to
notice the baby's unusual clitoris swell sometimes when changing her nappy.
Struggling to ignore her own 'swelling', she'd think her baby girl might
have some difficulty with that in future.  It would bear careful watching.



   Six months after Cathy's first birthday, Jim happened to come across a
text on human sexuality in a small bookstore in town.  Something he'd never
seen before, and the concept of a book on such things intrigued him.  He
bought it, and began reading.  Without telling Liz, since he felt slighty
ashamed at reading a 'sex book' - especially since there were pictures of
naked people in it.  He was sure she'd disapprove.  He wondered if he
should confess on Sunday to reading it, but decided it wouldn't be
necessary.

   The information was a revelation!  He was shocked to learn that women
were supposed to achieve climax just like men, and indeed more often. 
Clearly his darling Liz was not achieving orgasm - he felt like a cross
between a cad and an ass.  Determined to fix that, he read on avidly.  Less
than a week later, Liz found herself lying on her back with her thighs
around his head rather than her knees over his shoulders, his mouth busy at
her clitoris and some fingers searching inside for her G spot.  She was
shocked at such activities, and kept trying to get him to stop - until her
first orgasm hit in total astonishing unexpected shock, making her scream
in delicious, unimagined erotic agony.  She came eight times that night,
and there were no more complaints about 'impropper activities' from her. 
The next night he asked her to try some new ways of pleasing him, and
shocked again, she hesitated.  Until he pointed out that afterwards he'd
repeat her pleasures of last night.  And so she learnt to give head, and
other things, and came again several times herself.

   This began a whole new era of their lives.  He came up with so many new
ideas she wondered where they all came from.  (He never told her about the
book.) She became very, very enthusiastic about the idea of sex in general,
and especially about the bit where her body exploded into shuddering,
clenching fireworks.  She remarked to him on many occasions that she was
totally addicted to this, she loved him more than ever, and would never be
able to live without him and the things he did to her.  He'd once teased
her about her 'addiction', and deliberately avoided giving her orgasms.  It
only took a few days for her to realise that 'addiction' wasn't too far off
the mark, and begin begging.  He'd laughed, made her come four times that
night, and sometimes after joked that she now needed it more than he did.

   Months passed, and still he was coming up with ideas she'd never dreamt
of.  (It was a fairly fat book.) One day she came home and there was a
party-wrapped parcel on the dining table, with a note- "Liz darling, a
surprise.  Something for Miss P.  Don't open yet, see you around 8pm
tonight.  Better put Cathy to bed early.  Love you!  Jim, your Big Tease."
About shoebox size, it didn't rattle at all.  She had no idea what it might
contain, and was suitably teased.  She had a pretty good idea what kind of
thing in general 'Miss P' might be getting, and Miss P was most definitely
looking forward to a surprise.

   The phone call came at 8.20pm.  Police, could she come to the hospital
urgently, there's been an accident, your husband is badly injured.  A
nightmare of snap baby sitter, car trip, confusions of lights and terror,
dazed conversations in bright white corridoors, grim faced doctors, a room,
a familiar but broken body on a bed lost in a tangle of pipes and wires and
green-screened things that went 'bip' irregularly.  He was conscious, and
lucid, but fading.  A drunk driver, didn't stop at a red light, high speed
smash, and her darling's life is ended, and hers too.  Alone with him, he
had one hand to hold, the wrong one but it had to pass.  He knew - it was
obvious enough.  He started to say he was sorry, but she stopped him, "no,
darling, you've nothing to be....  I love you..." "I love you.  Cathy..  I
wanted to see her grow up, and be a fine woman.  You'll..." "Yes darling,
I'll tell her about you." "And you...  I don't want you to...  need... 
promise me darling...  the present...  use it.  Use it when you need.  I'm
your husband, I want you to promise me, you'll use it every time you feel
the need. ....  Oh Darling, I was looking forward to watching you do that.
Promise!"

   She didn't really know what he was talking about, but she had an idea.
Something to do with sex, and her darling is here, smashed and dying, and
asking her to promise to use his present when she 'needs', because he's
sorry he can't look after her any more.  Her heart breaks, and sobbing, she
promises.  He smiles, and weakly squeezes her hand.  There are a few more
words, just filling in the time since there's nothing you can really say
when your love is dying in front of you.  She kisses him, he closes his
eyes, and there is a long moment of silence.  No 'bips'.  Then suddenly
several urgent sounding alarms go off, and people in white coats come in
and press buttons to silence them again.  She sits there, holding his still
hand, for a long time.

   It takes her three months to work up courage to open the present,
several weeks to not cry every time she re-reads the note inside, and
another six months before her 'need' outweighs her tendency to burst into
tears every time she thinks of obeying his last wish.  Which means her need
by then is quite powerfully strong - strong enough that she uses it even
while sobbing softly, right up until she cries out his name in orgasm while
thrusting the oversize, heavily ridged dildo vigorously in and out of her
clenching, neglected vagina.

   The box held several items that he'd apparently bought separately.  It
was a kind of kit - a female masturbation kit.  It even included a book on
just that - something that shocks her with it's sinfulness, and would never
have even opened if he hadn't told her to.  And his note...  "Darling,
these are all for you to use, but really this is a present to myself.  You
are the most beautiful, sexy woman I can imagine, and sometimes I wish I
could just sit back and enjoy the vision of your body at it's sexyest - as
you cum.  I want to watch you as you make yourself cum.  Something you've
never done, but which I want you to learn.  Masturbation is a sin, but that
is if you are doing it for your own pleasure.  It is not a sin if you are
doing it for your husband, for _my_ pleasure.  And you will be baby, oh you
will be!  Damn, the more I think about this, the more I know I am going to
love it!  How many times can you make yourself cum?  Baby, lets find out!
I'll be watching.  Love you, Jim.



   There had been rather a lot of insurance money - another reason she had
to thank Jim's foresight.  She and Cathy were comfortable, and Liz had more
or less withdrawn from society.  She took solace in her religion, and
dedicating herself to Cathy's propper upbringing.

   Years passed.  Cathy grew well and happily, with the one minor issue of
her unusual genital development, and the need for Liz to be vigilant to
ensure this did not morally disadvantage or mislead the innocent child.  As
for her own genitals, Liz had for some time experimented with different
interpretations of Jim's wishes, and her own 'needs'.  She had expected
that with Jim's death she would be able to put all that aside.  It turned
out Jim was right again there - his old joke that she was addicted turned
out to he accurate, she had to admit.  She remembered his own needs growing
so strong when they'd first tried to avoid sex.  Then hers the same in just
a few days of regularly experienced orgasm.  And now, whenever she
attempted to put sex aside, the feelings that would wrack her body after
only a week or two of abstinence were astonishing and humbling.

   Perhaps that was the truth - once you had experienced orgasm, you were
forever a creature of sinful needs.  She thought about that a lot, and
thanked Jim over and over in her prayers for his command that she satisfy
her needs.  Just the feeling that she was obeying him still - it gave her
comfort, and also added a edge to her pleasures that she found difficult to
describe.  The closest she could manage was calling it her 'thrill of
obedience'.  There were times when she'd go to bed feeling disinterested,
and it would suddenly occur to her that 'tonight Jim wanted her' and
there'd be that strange thrill tingling through her body as she accepted
that her body was still his to use for his pleasure.  Even if that
consisted only of his spirit enjoying her performance.

   Eventually, she settled into a routine of caring for her needs as Jim
instructed virtually every night on retiring to bed.  When she felt urgent
herself, or felt Jim did, she would use the large ribbed dildo, thrusting
it strongly and rythmicly into herself, remembering how Jim felt inside
her, his body thumping down against her sex with each hard thrust.  Nights
she was feeling tired, or relaxed, or felt Jim was feeling cuddly, she'd
lie on her stomach, the electric vibrating egg deep in her vagina, one hand
cupping her vulva and pressing her clit, the other hand holding the egg's
variable power control.  Jim had liked to sometimes drive her hard to
repeated orgasms, and sometimes to draw her out in extended delicious
edgings - and so she would do the same herself, guessing what he would have
chosen for her that night.

   He'd also invented a game, where he'd roll a dice twice to give a page
number in the book on masturbation, and have her do that way.  When she was
feeling adventurous, she'd risk herself to that game again.  The risk
being, that some of the 'masturbation techniques' listed involved NO
orgasms for considerable lengths of time, before finally allowing a climax.
One whole chapter covered 'orgasm denial' - a spectrum of techniques
ranging from extended total abstinence, to types of extreme sexual teasing
that sounded to her even worse than the months Jim had taken her multiple
times a day before she had experienced orgasm.  At least then she didn't
know what she was missing!

   Still, out of a sense of dedication to her departed husband's last wish,
and her feeling sometimes that he was still present in spirit and enjoying
her games, she resolved to faithfully continue that dice game as well.  He
had only played it with her three times after coming up with it a few weeks
before his death, so she decided she should play it twice a month, on the
1st and 3rd Friday nights.  All went well for years, and she appreciated
the variety.

   Cathy was going on seven when one Friday evening Liz was feeling
particularly 'needy', and it was the first week of the month.  She was
having an early night, Cathy was already asleep in her room, and here was
Liz in her bedroom, naked and showered, moist with anticipation, rolling
the dice.  That thrill of obedience again - she never knew what he was
going to make her do.  A five, and a three.  Page 53.  She opened the book
there, and immediately knew she was going to be testing her resolve to play
this fairly.  Orgasm Denial.  Why did it have to be that chapter, tonight?
She knows the text almost by heart, but reading it again somehow sends a
shivver down her spine; landing in her pussy where it sits, quivering.

   "Female orgasm control and denial involves a woman's demonstration of
her love and dedication to her partner, by giving the partner complete
control over her own sexuality.  Her body and all it's sexual parts, her
body's responses to stimulation, her body's pleasure and orgasmic relief,
and her mind's desires for those pleasures and relief.  She gives these in
anticipation that her partner will derive pleasure and satisfaction from
exercising this control - in whatever way the partner desires, whether that
should involve physical pleasure or frustration for the woman.  In some
ways, the greater the sacrifice of physical pleasure and/or relief in
orgasm, the greater the gift of self."

   There's more, and then near the bottom of the page, some examples:

   Difficulty 1.  Session of edging, culminating in orgasm T/6h 2.  Session
of edging, terminating with a ruined orgasm T/6h 3.  Session of edging,
without orgasm.  T/3h 4.  Extended orgasm denial, no touch.  Tm 5. 
Extended orgasm denial, with edging.  Tm, T/d for T*5min 6.  Extended
orgasm denial, with edging and worn stimulation.  ditto, bwb
fin-->T<4-->replay

   Over on the right are some lightly pencilled codes Jim had added for
their game.  He'd done this all through the book, and she knew their
meaning well.  More dice rolls, 'T' being a roll of 1 through 6, the rest
scaling it.  She'd never ended up on this page before, but his rules were
simple.  She stares at the page, working out the codes, considering the
reality here.  This is serious business...  does she really want to...  to
do this?  Would Jim?  Would he?  "Tm"...  that's throw months.  Dear God,
that could be six months, of...  any of the last three.  Six months! 
Thats...  she shudders...  impossible.  Isn't it?

   The thought makes her so afraid, that she is about to flip the book shut
and skip the whole thing, when she feels a sudden and powerful surge of a
feeling she knows well - her 'obedience thrill'.  It takes her breath away,
and as she closes her eyes for a moment a vivid recollection comes to her
of those mornings when she would awaken to the feel of Jim thrusting deep
inside her, her own heart thudding fast as his cock jerked it's spray of
hot thick semen into her aching depths, then pulled out moments later. 
Leaving her moaning in empty, pelvis undulating frustrated need.  Knowing
that throbbing ache would take hours to fade entirely, yet simultaneously
intensely fullfilled in her soul that she had received his seed, had
satisfied him.  Knowing that in her panting, her squirming, her open mouth,
longing eyes and puffy, open, soaking sex, her hands gripping the sheets in
bunches, she was giving her husband a most precious gift - the presence
beside him of a well-fucked, horny and eager for more anytime, beautiful
naked woman with his seed pooled deep in her vagina.  For her darling, her
husband, for whom she would do anything.  Dear Jesus, she can remember
those feelings so clearly!  As if he was here with her now.  And he is, she
thinks, her vagina resonating with the memory of those feelings.

   She puts the book down on the dresser top, and holds it open at the page
with a bottle of hand creme.  She picks up her dice, then casts it beside
the book.  "Anything you say, Jim." Somehow she knows, even before it
stills, what it will be.  As the dice is still rolling, she recalls earlier
this evening, as she'd bathed Cathy.  As so often in her bath lately the
girl's precocious clitoris had popped out stiffly as Liz worked the soapy
washcloth between her legs.  Liz had frowned at the child, but knew this
couldn't be helped.  She'd continued, working down Cathy's legs.  Moments
later, as she'd finished with the child's feet she'd looked up again, and
caught Cathy squeezing the little fleshy finger protruding from her bald
slit with her hand.  She'd quickly pulled the hand away, guiltily. 
Normally Liz would have given her a sound spanking for a lapse like that,
but this night her mind had been on other things and she'd merely given the
offending hand a smart slap, and continued with the wash.  She hadn't even
scolded the child!  How could she have left it at that!?  By the time she'd
realised her mistake, Cathy was dressed for the evening, and the moment had
passed.  But Liz knew she'd slipped.  Badly.  Poor Cathy, and that strange,
over-active organ of hers.  She had to be vigilant, had to never let such
behaviour pass, or the girl would surely fall to the Devil's temptations.
And Jim knew it too.

   The dice stops...  6.  She doesn't even feel surprise.  She knows this
is a punishment, and a serious one, so of course it's the most difficult.
She rolls it three more times.  5, 2, 4.  So what she has been given is
'extended orgasm denial, with edging and worn stimulation, for 5 months, 2
edgings per day for 20 minutes each, wearing "bwb".  She takes a moment to
recognise that last, then she closes her eyes again.  Ben wa balls.  She
supposes it means all the time.  Of course it would.  Five months. 
Blankly, she picks up a pen and opens her diary.  Puts a circle around
today's date, writes "53.6.5,2,4" in it.  Flips five months ahead, and
circles the same day in that month.  She doesn't like to think about how
she'll be feeling about Jim's game by then.  It's at this point that her
numbed mind notices the faintly pencilled "fin-->T<4-->replay" under the
main entry in the Female Masturbation book.  Again she takes a moment to
puzzle it out, then pales, resting her hands on the dresser for support. 
It means 'when done, roll the dice.  If less than 4, then repeat the use of
this table.' She thinks he probably wrote that in as a joke, seeing as he'd
rather have made decisions like that himself.  But now...  sigh.  She's
either going to obey him or not.  No half way about it.  So she might be in
for something more than five months, if she's unlucky.  If...  Jim chooses.

   Her sex is throbbing heavily as she retrieves Jim's box of toys from
it's hiding place.  She opens the box, gazing longingly at the large dildo
she'd rather hoped to use tonight.  She picks out the ben wa balls by their
string, puts in the masturbation book, closes the box, and replaces it far
back in the drawer behind her things.  She won't be needing the box for a
while.  Five months.  FIVE MONTHS!  There's no shortage of lubrication in
her vagina, and she shove the balls inside herself almost roughly.  Then as
an afterthought also pushes the hanging string up inside herself with a
finger.  It tends to stick to her finger in the slippery tunnel, and pull
back out.  So she pulls the balls back out entirely and takes a moment to
unknot the string from the anchor points.  She digs out the toy box again,
tosses the string in, rehides the box, then quickly shoves the balls back
inside herself.  Gives an experimental quick jump up and down with legs
spread.  The balls don't feel likely to fall out, but they do make
themselves very much felt from the motion.  She grimaces to herself -
'better get used to that'.

   It is now past 10pm, and she quickly gets into bed.  The night is still
warm, and she pushes back the covers.  Really, she is supposed to edge
herself twice per day.  Twenty minutes each.  If she wants to sleep before
midnight, she'd better get started.

   Half an hour later she has formed a much clearer idea of the torment
this five month 'game' will be.  She had only used the balls a couple of
times before - once when Jim had made her wear them on a day cycling trip,
and another time when the book game had her wearing them to a movie, before
a multi-orgasmic vibrator masturbation session on returning home.  She'd
never tried edging with them inside before, and has discovered that it
gives 'frustrating' a whole new world of meaning.  She'd been quickly able
to bring herself to the edge of orgasm, but had miscalculated the influence
of the rolling, bumping motions inside her, as her hips made impulsive
coital rockings.  She'd had to suddenly pull her fingers away from her sex,
and struggle to still the involuntary pelvic thrustings that threatened to
carry her just that little bit further into orgasm.  Once she gained
control of herself again, she'd had to re-approach the critical edge much
more cautiously.  The balls inside her made that boundary very tricky and
unpredictable.  As well as making her cooling off time much longer, since
the slightest movement would tease her where it ached for touch most.

   A few weeks later she has developed a whole lot more respect for the
guidance and wisdom of Jim's watching spirit in giving her this penance. 
He clearly wanted to remind her of the powerfully addictive nature of
masturbation.  He'd instructed her to relieve her own desires, and now he
was reminding her of what that really meant.  Lest she fail to remember how
serious a sin masturbation was in most circumstances, and how important it
was to ensure their daughter's moral handicap did not disadvantage her.