Just A Couple More Strokes
My first proper story I tried to write! I had fun writing it, but I probably won't write too much else; just small captions for my images are enough!
This is a small story about putting on a suit which induces arousal, but allows for only edging. Enjoy! :)
You can see the image which inspired the story here!
I wrote a spiritual sequel to this story, which you can find here!
I showed up at their lab, not fulling knowing what to expect. Their description of what would happen was too broad and vague for me to get an idea what was going to happen. They said it was a "Suit of Endless Stamina" and that they wanted to stress-test its abilities with full-body on-skin contact. I knew my body's limits, so if the suit really did end up increasing my physical stamina then I'd know fairly quickly.
When they got me to strip in front of them and put on the suit, I thought it was strange that it had a dedicated pouch for my dick and balls, but I eventually assumed it was just to ensure as much of my skin was in direct contact with the rubber.
They ushered me into my room where they told me I was staying inside there for the full duration of the test. It was fairly barren, just a bed and TV. I thought that a suit of "stamina" would at least require a treadmill or something which would test physical endurance.
When the door locked behind me, I could hear an almost inaudible hissing noise. I thought it was the door sealing me inside my room, but after a few seconds, I could detect it. A faint hint of musk entered my nostrils, and it wasn't too much longer before the effects of it would make themselves know.
It took only 15 minutes for the arousal to take over my body as my cock reached full erection. I tried to hide it from their cameras, but the moment my arm made contact with my penis to try and hide it, I let out the loudest moan I've ever done. Temporarily forgetting where I was, I gave myself a few more strokes, loving how good my dick felt inside the suit.
By the time I remembered where I was and who was watching me, I stopped, but not before having worked myself up into a small frenzy of lust.
Not wanting to risk having something touch my penis, I embarrassingly spread open my legs to allow my dick to throb in the air without any obstruction and within full view of whatever cameras they had pointed at me. Each beat of my heart caused my hard cock to throb with desire, begging to be touched again, to be stroked, to be pleasured.
In the reflection of the TV, I saw myself panting and squirming, looking more like someone who belonged at a fetish club than a research facility. Looking at the makeshift mirror, I saw something on the suit which wasn't there when I put it on: a padlock icon across the pouch my balls were resting inside.
Before I could look at it further the TV switched on, showing me a feed of men in rooms identical to mine, wearing rubber suits identical to mine, and jerking off like it was a full time job.
I quickly understood that these were all test subjects like me, all with the same padlock icon across their balls. The only difference between me and them was that I wasn't masturbating, which was becoming more difficult by the second. With just those few seconds of touching, my dick knew what it was missing out on,and that was enough to etch away at my willpower.
It didn't take long before my hand slowly started inching its way to my cock. I thought that if I could just cum once, I'd be able to get my arousal under control.
The moment my hand made contact with my shaft, it was all over.
The suit eliminated most friction, allowing me to glide my hand back and forth near effortlessly. I was bucking my hips into my hand and moaning as if I hadn't touched myself in years. The TV's feed swapped to a video of me, and I felt like I could cum just from thinking of myself as another horny masturbator like the rest of them, before it started cycling back through man after man again.
Within the hour, I was teetering at the edge of orgasm, so close to finally receiving the release that would let regain a clear mind.
After two hours, I can almost taste the sweet release.
After four hours, I was using both hands to help give me that tiny bit extra stimulation boost to push me over the edge, which was surely coming.
At some point after that, time lost all meaning; all that mattered to me was breaking past the edge, which I was soooo close to achieving.
When it felt like days had past, I didn't even have the capacity to question how I was jerking off for hours upon hours without even a single minute of rest. Is this the "stamina" that I was supposed to be getting from the suit? The "stamina" to get off for days on end without rest? I had tried to stop myself jerking off a few times, but the call of my impending orgasm made those attempts last only a couple of seconds before I resumed jack-hammering my dick like all the other men.
Eventually, I felt myself starting to win against whatever force was holding my orgasm hostage as I felt a familiar churning in my nuts. With my release so close, my hands were gliding over my dick as a speed that would have guaranteed friction burn if not for the suit.
I could feel the cum reach the base of my cock. I could feel it climbing up the tube! I could feel it reach the urethra!! I could feel myself just nanoseconds away from the greatest orgasm humanity has ever felt!!!
...and then I didn't climax...
I could feel the cum leak out excruciatingly slow, feeling every drop of sperm exiting my body, making me go nearly feral with need. With one hand never leaving my cock, I scooped up the liquid onto my finger to taste it, confirming that it was my cum and not just precum.
My body had been perfectly edged for so long my balls were leaking out cum as if it were pre. All this had accomplished was bringing me infinitely closer to my orgasm which was still just moments away.
With this last betrayal from my body, I stopped thinking about anything other than the pleasure throbbing inside of my hands, giving up everything that wasn't happening at this moment.
The outside world? Dead to me. The other men on the TV? Irrelevant to my cock. Reaching orgasm? I don't know what that is; I only know about edging.
One of the final pieces of information to leave my mind was the duration of the test. I already couldn't tell the time, and if they were going to let me out at the end of the test, then I didn't need to waste any thought power remembering. I trust them to let me out after my 30 days are over, so I'll let them keep track of how long I've been here.
All I need to do is to wait for them to eventually open my door and let me out.
In the meantime, I can just stroke...
...and edge...
...and stroke...
...and edge...
...and stroke...
...and edge...
...and stroke...
...and.........