Twins in College

I was, in a word, frustrated.

"That is the last time you will cum until after the end of final exams, is that understood?"

My big brother, my Master, had given me an order, and I had no option but to obey. While Exam Week seemed to approach rather quickly as the end of the semester loomed, it also felt as if it was light years away – such was the state of my frustration.

After all, after nearly a full academic year of making love to each other on very nearly a daily basis, I had become addicted to it, addicted to the intense climaxes which only my big brother could bestow upon me. Because of our near-daily copulation, I had almost never needed to satisfy myself, and when I did, the orgasms just did not compare.

Yet, to be suddenly thrust into a situation where I could not achieve orgasm for such a long period of time was almost maddening.

Rarely did I ever purposely disobey my Master. Only once had I ever really needed to be truly punished, not "playfully" punished. Yet as the days without gratification wore on, I thought more and more of purposely disobeying him.

At first, it began innocently enough. After all, my Master had simply ordered that I could not

cum

until the end of final exams. He had not said that I could not play with myself and enjoy the climb

toward

a climax.

My Master did not help matters at all by being sexual with me even more than usual. For once,

he

would often parade around the apartment fully nude while

I

was fully clothed, specifically to remind me of my prohibition against attaining the ultimate carnal pleasure. At least twice per day, he would insist that I suck him; he did not always cum himself, depending on when he would have me stop, but when he did, he almost always pushed me back so that he could release his incestuous seed upon me instead of inside my mouth. As we watched television together or cuddled in bed together, he would finger me, repeatedly bringing me to the precipice of delight before rudely hauling me back into the reality of my frustration.

I thought it was going to come to a head on a Saturday night. I had been incredibly horny all evening long, and being the one to restock the shelves in the adult section of the video store did not help my situation at all. It took all my willpower to prevent myself from jumping my big brother and Master when he came to the store to escort me home. Purposely, I dallied a bit, until finally my other coworkers had left the store, leaving me and my sexual tormenter alone.

"Please, Master!" I pleaded shamelessly. "Let me cum! Please!!!"

He had the audacity to smirk. Clearly, he was enjoying my frustration, my wanton need.

"Damn you, Victor!" I nearly screamed. "This is so unfair!"

"Is it?" he challenged. "Will you think the same when you are finally permitted to cum again?"

"Yes!"

"Are you certain about that," he challenged again, "or will you be so consumed with finally experiencing an orgasm again that you will forget your place as a slave?"

So that was it. He was simply using my orgasms – rather, my prohibition against having and enjoying an orgasm – as a new way to exert his dominance over me. I had actually expected that, but to hear him state it himself surprised me – surprised me enough to temporarily squelch my wanton need.

...until we returned to our apartment. There, as soon as he had locked out the mundane world, my big brother ordered me to my knees before him, and without needing to be commanded, I released his hardening manhood and ingested him, reveling in the feel and taste of him inside my mouth, reveling once again in my submissive position to him, yet angry at him for denying me the what I wanted most while making me give him orgasm after orgasm after orgasm in the preceding weeks.

In time, we moved to my bed, where we both stripped naked and I was ordered to truly fuck him, faster and harder than I ever had before. So great was my need that tears streamed down my heated cheeks as the pleasure generated my our quickening friction radiated from the point of our joining. And as the incestuous seed rose high into my body, I could take no pleasure in it, for his climax only frustrated me further, and I sobbed, loud and long, collapsing upon my Master and pleading with my broken voice.

Ultimately, I was left alone on the bed, crying until my body had no more tears to shed. And then I felt it, quite unexpected: a sense of calm, a sense of servitude. In that moment, I knew that I existed to please my big brother, to please my Master in whatever way he defined, and that if my orgasm denial was the means to his pleasure, then I should and would gladly suffer it – if necessary, for decades.