Vicky was in hell.

She’d been desperately trying to have an orgasm for almost two hours now. She’d climbed in bed to masturbate and quickly worked herself up a storm, only to find herself stuck on the edge, unable to cum. She’d had this sense that her fingers weren’t going to be sufficient to get her over the finish line, so she’d tried shoving her pillow between her legs. She’d made the soft material sticky with her sweat and juices, but she hadn’t reached that sweet release.

She’d tried to write it off as a loss and carry on with her day - but the arousal she felt wouldn’t ebb. Trying to ignore it, she’d gotten dressed and started watching some TV, but she was too distracted and found herself pulling off her sweatpants, clambering over an arm of the couch, and rubbing her bare pussy along it. In a frenzy, she’d proceeded to hump every soft furnishing she could find in the living room, yanking off her top and throwing it aside when she got too hot and sweaty.

At present, she was kneeling on the couch, a cushion between her legs, grinding it into her loins almost violently, her head buried in the crook of her elbow as it rested on the back of the chair. She groaned pathetically, her hips bucking. When would this end?

“Vicky, darling?”

Shit. How long had Samantha been home?

“If you’re not too busy, could you come in here and help me get dinner ready?” her girlfriend’s voice called from the kitchen, a light layer of mockery in her tone.

With a feeble whine, she scrambled off the dishevelled cushion and plodded into the kitchen.

Samantha was bent over and fumbling in the drawers under the counter as Vicky entered the room. Her attention was immediately drawn to the sharp edge of the counter, and she started to approach it, her legs spread to invite it in. Mmm, that’d feel so good...

“Ah ah ah, no! Bad Vicky!” Samantha snapped as she stood up straight, holding a saucepan in each hand. “No humping anything sharp or pointy, you’ll hurt yourself!”

Vicky sprang backwards. “Sorry, Mistress,” she mumbled, bowing her head meekly.

“That’s OK, baby, just don’t do it again.”

Raising her head again, Vicky cast her eyes around the room desperately. The only things in here that she could rub herself against were sharp corners on the counters and the wall, and she wasn’t allowed to do that. Then her gaze fell on her Mistress...

As Samantha reached up and opened a cupboard, Vicky was suddenly at her side, her arms around her waist, her ample boobs engulfing her upper arm, her crotch against her hip. She began to roughly hump Samantha’s leg, moaning and panting. The noises were almost deafening from being so close to her ear.

Samantha staggered a little - only keeping her balance because of how tightly Vicky was hanging onto her - and burst out laughing. “Jesus Christ, you almost knocked me over! What are you doing?!”

“Need,” Vicky gasped, burying her face in her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Need... cum...”

“Oh my God,” Samantha giggled, curling her arm around Vicky’s sweat-drenched back and holding her close as she continued to grind. “You really are desperate, aren’t you? Can’t contain it, can’t hump anything else in here, so you have to use my leg, like a needy little bitch in heat!”

“Uhhh,” Vicky groaned. She knew Samantha was being rude about her, teasing her, mocking her. It always made her feel delightfully weak and small. Although, it was so hard to pay attention through the horny fog. All she cared about was the feeling of Samantha’s thigh between hers, getting her so so close to orgasm. It couldn’t be long now... could it?

“When I gave you the suggestion to manically hump everything, I didn’t expect you to hump me!” Samantha chuckled. “Not that I’m complaining, of course...”

Belatedly, those words penetrated Vicky’s brain. “Whuh... yuh - you did this? This... this is a suhhhh... suh... suggestion?”

Samantha just wouldn’t stop laughing. “Of course! Aw, sweetie, did you think you weren’t hypnotised?”

Vicky didn’t know how to answer that. She hadn’t realised she was hypnotised, but in hindsight it made sense. It explained why she’d been so dementedly, rampantly horny, and why she couldn’t cum. But knowing this was a hypnotic suggestion didn’t make it any easier to resist. In fact, it made it harder - it made her feel compelled, stuck, unable to control herself.

Sobbing with frustration, she continued to relentlessly hump her Mistress, hoping she’d let her cum sometime soon, her mocking laughter echoing in her ears.