After I send you some of the stories on ROM I’d been reading, you get that look in your eyes. You ask me if that is something I would like to try - playing a rigged game against you. One I am likely to lose, with stakes I want to avoid, and a tantalizing reward. And of course I can’t resist that kind of offer. 

 

“I’d like to try it”, I say.

“Good! You will edge for me. And if you can manage to avoid cumming, you get a reward. The bliss trigger. I know how much you like that one.”

“And… If I cum?”

“If you lose, you do not get to cum until the Sunday of next week. Technically that falls within our agreement - one orgasm for you per calendar week.”

“Where’s the catch?” There has to be one. This is too easy. 

“Well, obviously, I’ll be doing everything I can to make sure you lose. You will lose.”

 

You have successfully activated my competitive streak. I give you a bit of a cocky smile. “I’ll do my best to win.”

“We’ll see.”

“May I start touching, Master?”

"Yes, you may. Begin!”

 

I make sure to angle the camera so you have the best possible view of me, my torso, my lap, while I put my legs up on the table. It still feels… a bit shameful to do this where someone else can see, but it is genuinely the most comfortable position available to me. I look into the camera, at you, and do my best to push away the rising shyness as my right hand pushes underneath the waistband of my underwear. 

 

“Good girl.”

“Thank You Master.” I shiver pleasantly. I begin to caress myself, fingers circling over my clit, along my folds, and remind myself to stay quiet. It’s… a lot harder than it used to be. You have given me so much positive reinforcement the moment I make any kind of sound that it is quite difficult for me to hold back now. It’ll take a moment for me to start feeling really good, though. It always does. 

 

You smile at me through the screen. “I’ll give you this one for free, to get started. Bliss. Keep touching. That’s it. Pleasure.”

 

My breath catches in my throat as the two triggers overtake me. A very pleasant blank, vacant feeling spreads through my mind, like golden sunlight chasing all the thoughts away, leaving behind only tingling contentment. It’s a wonderful feeling and lasts over a minute. My fingers don’t stop their gentle exploration, and with my brain so empty of anything but what you put there, I lose myself in the sensations. The pleasure trigger sends a shock of pleasure right through my core, and I let out a little gasp. Then, as quickly as it emerged, it’s gone again, leaving me to bask in the wonderful feelings the bliss trigger has instilled in me, until I gradually rise back up to awareness again, blinking into the camera, feeling a little fuzzy. 

 

“And welcome back!”

“Mmm… thank You Master.”

 

I feel… small. Deferrential to You. Controlled. Protected. In addition to that, heat is slowly beginning to pool between my legs. I’m nowhere close to an edge just yet, but the arousal has turned from a mild simmering feeling to something that demands attention. 

 

“You lose.”
“Hm? I… what?”
“You lose. Say it.”

 

I can’t stop myself  from repeating Your words back to You. 

“I… lose?”

“Pleasure.”

I gasp.

“Again.” You say.

“I lose.”

“Pleasure. Again.”

“I lose.”

“Good girl. Pleasure.”

 

This time I’m sure a quiet whimper escapes me. We go back and forth like this a few more times, the pleasure inside me building higher and higher. Then, you don’t respond when I say it. Not at first, anyway. I repeat it again and again, and every so often, you throw the trigger in again. I know what you’re doing - you’re conditioning me, building an association in my mind between pleasure and losing, but it feels too good to stop. After a while, I notice you haven’t used the pleasure trigger in quite some time. 

“Say ‘I want to lose’.”

I probably shouldn’t, but I do anyway. “I want to lose.”

“Pleasure.”

“Mh… thank You Master…”

My fingers speed up, and I begin to feel myself approaching an edge. 

“I lose, I want to lose.”

“Pleasure.”

“I’m close, Master.”

“Get as close as you can without cumming.”

“Yes Master…” I allow myself to get closer, closer. Then I pull my fingers away, even though my pussy feels downright molten. 

“I’m there…”

“Pleasure. Pleasure.”

I whimper, just barely avoiding tipping over the edge.

“Continue.”

I wait another two seconds, to make sure I’ve calmed down a bit, enough to not send me back to an edge within moments, then I begin again. 

“Say ‘I want to lose to my Master’.”

“I want to lose to my Master.”

“Good girl. Pleasure.”

I whimper as hot pleasure flashes through my core again, and my pussy throbs between my legs. It would be very easy to give in… but I don’t want to. Not yet, anyway, I want to continue edging for you. I don’t even realize that the potential reward of the bliss trigger is slipping further and further into the background, becoming less and less prominent in my thoughts by the second. 

 

It’s at this point that you start rewarding me for my stream of ‘I lose’ and ‘I want to lose’ and ‘I want to lose to my Master’ less and less, even though I can’t seem to stop saying it.  I realize with a start that the words themselves have begun to feel good, that I’m dousing myself with a little bit of pleasure each time I say them. 

 

“I’m close again.” I stop saying the words and pull my hand away. You respond immediately. 

“Pleasure.” 

I can’t hold back the tiny moan that slips out, and I hope from the bottom of my heart that my flatmate didn’t hear it. My pussy throbs pitifully and I can feel how wet I am, soaking into my underwear, can hear it every time my hand moves to touch my clit, to tease at my pussy lips. I don’t touch inside - that would be too dangerous, too likely to bring me over the edge. 

 

I start touching again. 

“I lose. I lose. I want to lose. I want to lose to my Master. I always lose. I always lose to my Master. I want to lose. I lose to my Master. I want to lose to my Master. I always lose to my Master.”

It’s almost like a mantra, I can’t seem to stop anymore. Occasionally you continue to reward me for it, driving my pleasure even higher, reinforcing the conditioning. You’re making me brainwash myself, I realize. It feels too good to resist. 

 

“What do you do?”
My answer is immediate. “I lose.”

“Who do you lose to?”
“m… my Master.” I whisper. 

“What do you want to do?”
“I want to lose to You, Master.”

“Good girl. Pleasure. And what does it mean when you lose?”
“You… win?”

“And if I win, what does that mean?”
“I… cum.”

“So when you say you want to lose, what is it you’re actually saying?”

My words are quiet, just as small as I’m currently feeling. 

“I want to cum.”

“Say it.”
“I want to cum.”

“Good girl. Pleasure.”

 

The pleasure sparks through me faster and faster, stronger and stronger. My head swims. 

“I’m close, Master.”

“Pleasure. Remember what you want, what you’re going to do.”

 

“I want… to cum. I want to lose. I want to lose. I want to cum. I lose. I lose. I want to lose. I always lose to my Master.” I can’t stop the words, even as I pull back my hand, as you use the trigger on me again, as everything inside of me aches for me to just cum. 

 

“You want to give in.”

“I want to give in.” 

“Pleasure.”

Despite my best efforts, I can’t keep fully quiet anymore. I’ve worked myself up so long, and to such an extent, that everything feels amazing. It doesn’t help that I can’t stop saying those words anymore, either, each one driving me closer and closer to another edge. My head feels fuzzy, drifty. It’s hard to think clearly, hard to think at all when everything about me is drowning in pleasure. I’m teasing my nipples too, I think, and I can’t stop repeating. Your words are growing inside me. I lose, I lose, I want to lose… I want to cum…

 

“I lose, I lose, I lose, I lose…” 

 

You told me earlier that when I do lose, I can either make the most of the only orgasm I’ll get in nearly two weeks, or pull away again. But what fun would that be?

 

My entire body feels strung too tightly, and I can feel myself pulsing in desperation, feel how wet I am, how badly my body wants, no, needs this. I bring my left hand between my legs, too, gently guide two fingers inside of my aching pussy, curl them up the way you showed me. It feels fantastic. My body is like a live wire, thrumming with need. 

 

“I lose I lose I lose I lose I want to lose I lose I lose I lose to my Master I lose I lose I want to lose I want to lose to my Master I lose I lose I always lose to my Master I lose I lose…”

 

The pleasure surges higher and higher. My fingers send me soaring towards an edge, your occasional encouragement sparks yet more pleasure through me, and suddenly, much faster than I thought, I come to another edge. Too suddenly. I’m almost too far gone when I notice, and then… I can’t find it in myself to stop touching. It feels too good. It’s too hard to resist. You were right, I want to lose. I want to cum… I want to accept all the consequences of it. I need it, need to cum so badly, I just can’t think anymore, my thoughts are so hazy with pleasure and I continue to move, continue to touch, to curl my fingers…

 

I cum. “I lose, I lose, I lose…” I whisper the words, drawing out my orgasm as far as possible as it pulses through my body and I get lost in the wonderful feeling. My head slumps back, my fingers keep rubbing, rubbing, rubbing… until eventually the feeling fades, and I am left sitting in my desk chair, legs spread for you to see, breathless, cheeks flushed, heart pounding. 

 

“I lost.” I whisper. 

“Good girl.”