On the second day I woke up before my alarm yet again. But it was a slower day again. I was feeling good. So incredibly good. My clit was pulsing, my pussy was wet already, and … what the hell? Did I just wake up to my fingers on my pussy? Did I start touching myself before I was awake enough to realize? That removed the last layers of tiredness, and I pulled my hand away. My pussy was screaming for me to continue, to touch some more. To give in to the temptation, rub harder, faster. I took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrant odor of the room. Hell, it smelled as if I had a sex party in here, I would have to open the window while I went for a shower. I did not have to get up yet, and rubbing my wet fingers over my hardened nipples felt so good. They perked out, hard and firm, crowning my breasts. And the slippery wetness I coated them in felt so good, so invigorating. Wait, I was playing with my nipples now? My hands seemed to have developed a mind of their own. I wiped them off on the linen, and grabbed my phone. I still had not replied to any of his messages from yesterday afternoon and evening. It was time to do so. “I don’t know why, but somehow your request seems to have made me really horny. I can barely control myself. It is hard, but for some reason it also feels so good. Btw, I did sleep naked yesterday, and you were right, I was wet. I AM wet, even after just waking up. I wish you were back already, so we could enjoy ourselves for a few hours. I miss your cock in me!” There, that was enough honesty for this early in the morning. I got up and had a shower. Learning from past mistakes, I made it a short one, and kept my fingers in check. Still, certain places on my body could not be completely dried, as even just the towel rubbing me felt strangely good.When I got back, I had two messages from him. The first one was in text, telling me how proud he was of me, for telling him, and sharing my arousal with him. He promised to cum for both of us, next time he found a chance. Somehow, this time I was not angry, only amused. I giggled lightly, while I opened the second message, which was an image. It was the picture I had sent him yesterday, with my bare breasts and hard nipples. Only it had a line of text in the bottom, like a meme. “Remember, good girls don’t cum”, I read. At first I was only confused, as I read the message again. That sounded like… like a catch phrase. Had he made that up? What utter nonsense. As I looked at the picture over and over, I could feel my body somehow reacting to it. Or did I just like the view of my hard nipples in the background? Either way, I could feel the usual signs of arousal coming up yet again, and decided to put the message away fast, to get on with my life.It felt even harder to focus on work today. “Good girls don’t cum, good girls don’t cum” it repeated in my head. The phrase seemed to be stuck. This did not sound like him. He must have found that phrase somewhere. But where? And was that why he had called me a good girl the other day? Finally, I had to take out my phone and look it up on Google. I was shocked by what I found. Apparently there was a whole community about this. Sever communities, actually, using that phrase as a kind of credo. The pictures I found shocked me. Explicit photos and videos,of girls, usually tied up, exposed and apparently kept unable to cum. But the texts next to them were somehow even more shocking. Girls bragging with the time since their last orgasms, men (and women) commenting that they should keep going. Short stories, mostly a few sentences long, that told of women being teased, but never let cum. And underlining all of it, the usual credo. Good girls don’t cum. What weird kind of fetish was my boyfriend into?But more shocking than all of that, was the reaction of my body. I just kept scrolling for what seemed to be ages, and in the end I did not even consciously see the things I was looking at anymore. All my mind registered was the horniness flowing threw me. The aching in my pussy, the way my nipples seemed to tear into the fabric of my shirt. I was glad that my hands did not seem to work, for while I could not stop myself from scrolling, neither did they wander off to touch my body. I was quite certain, that it would not take much to make me cum right now. I craved it! “But good girls don’t cum.” Realizing that I had really just thought that finally broke the spell. I closed the browser on my phone. I would not look it up again. Maybe this was a kink for him, but it was not mine. I ignored the need to touch myself. And from the two hours I spent staring at my book afterwards, I can barely remember two sentences I read. I don’t think I was thinking about the things I read and saw, I guess I did not think about anything. I was just sitting there, trying to learn, and trying to suppress the need to touch.In the afternoon I finally broke. I toke my phone, and sent him a message. “I don’t think I can be a good girl any longer. I need to cum! Can I please masturbate?”. He was probably sitting in a meeting right now. I hope he at least blushed when he read the message, serves him right. I was sure I could have taken a week, but his teasing on the last evening, his constant messaging… He had not played fair. I waited for his answer, ready jump up and get to my bed. And the toy I had lying in my bed stand. It would feel so good, I needed it!Finally I got a message from him “Ohhh, is it too hard? Of course you can masturbate! But enjoy it, use your fingers, drag it out! And keep me posted how it goes, that will lighten the meeting up for me.” He said yes! Oh my god, he said yes! I really wasn’t sure he would. After a few seconds, my elation went down. Somehow, this felt wrong. Somewhere in me, there was a part that had hoped he would say no. Strange! I ignored that part, shoved it down deep in the back of my brain. By that time I had already reached the bedroom, keeping my phone close by. He wanted dirty messages during his meeting? He would get them! For saying yes, for finally allowing me some release. I stripped naked in a rush, threw myself on the bed. “Just got out of my clothes. Lying in bed naked again.” The message status immediately went to seen. I did not wait for him to type an answer. My hands were all over my nipples already. Twisting them, pulling them, pressing them flat while I kneaded my breasts. I glanced at the bed stand, but decided to follow his words. My hands on my breasts already felt good enough. They would also do down there. I slowly let my left hand glide down my stomach. I evaded my clit for now, though it was hard to do so, and checked the wetness on my mound. My lips were already parted, and they were wet! So wet! I scooped up some of the wetness, and started to draw small circles around my clit. I would come too fast, once I touched it directly. I wanted to drag this out, as he had written. I stopped playing with my breasts with my right hand, and grabbed the phone instead. Still no answer from my previous message. Time to tease him back some more. After all, now he was in a meeting and could do nothing to release himself. “I am so wet already. Touching myself slowly, enjoying it.”. He saw the message instantly again. I focused on my left hand again. The circles had gotten smaller. I was so close to touching my clit. I decided to force my hand deeper again, pushing two fingers inside myself. I was wet and ready. They glided inside without much resistance. My hips bucked against them, my breath was going fast, and I enjoyed the feeling of pure ecstasy I got, even from small and slow movement. “My fingers are deep inside of me! It feels so good. Going to rub my clit now.” Focusing on the text had given me a small relief to collect myself. Just when I started touching, I saw his next message. “Tell me when you are close.” What was he thinking? I was close to cumming since waking up…I scooped up some more of my juice, and with light movement covered my clithood with it. Already this movement felt so good. A moan escaped my lips. I wanted to move faster, rub it frantically. But I kept the slow speed. I could feel my clit twitch periodically. I was moaning loud now, breathing fast. My whole body was tensing up. It was so good. I used my last willpower to send him a message. “Now”. And immediately, there was a reply. “Good! Stop now! Hands off”. What? What?? What??? It took a few moments to process the message. Moments that almost threw me over the edge of orgasm. But maybe I was just too shocked to cum. I managed to hold back, and drew my hand away. “But you said I could! What do you mean?” Again, his answer arrived immediately. Had he typed those in beforehand? “I said you could masturbate. I never said you could cum. You promised me not to.” I deflated, threw myself back on the bed. For once in this cursed week, my arousal left me fast, while I lay there. I was disappointed. He must have known how I had felt. And he had ignored it. No, worse than that, he had tricked me. Made me believe that I was so close. The next message appeared. “Did you stop?”. I did not want to answer. I was mad at him. Still, I sent him one word. “Yes”. I knew what his massage would be, before I read it. “Good girl!”.I knew he was manipulating me. I knew he was getting off on the thought that I was suffering here. What I did not know, was how my body would react to it. Even reading the words from him, made me shiver. And simple as that, my arousal was back. But this time it was not accompanied by frustration, but by a strange gleeful sensation. I was his good girl! I had done well! I had stopped! I remembered that thought I had had when he told me I could masturbate. That sense of loss, when he had given in. That part of my mind was satisfied now, while my whole body was still starved from satisfaction. He had said no! He had said no, and I had followed.My masturbating had not brought me any relief. On the contrary. I could feel the wetness between my legs for the rest of the day. My clit was still crying for attention. I could feel my nipples, constantly hard. No wonder, I was thinking about sex for the rest of the day, and he made sure to send me messages to remind me ever so often. But on that evening, I did not mind. I was doing my chores with a newfound energy. And it was not the only thing I had found, for I had found a dominant side of him I had not known. And I had submitted to it, at least for today. The world was good. I was a good girl. 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