"When you are pulling against the restraints… when your back is arched and your hips are writhing… when your mouth is open in a silent scream of tortured rapture… you will know that my work has begun".
Whether a dream or reality, the outcome would be the same regardless. All you can focus on is the pleasure, that is all your world consists of right now. You want to open your eyes, but you are too relaxed to do so, your body is in the ultimate bliss of complete relaxation, a perfect position to easily be overcome. The hands caress you in every way you desire, focusing exactly on where you want them to touch. Intense enough to fulfil your every fantasy of being manhandled and dominated by multiple people, though gentle enough to make you want more and more, to keep you on that constant incline of arousal.
They feel like every hand that has ever sexually caressed you, the hand of every person who has ever desired you, all just a little rougher than how you yourself would have played, making it all that much more erotic. Every pinch, every tweak and grasp, every poke and stroke, all managing to touch something much deeper than merely the surface of your body. Once they finally penetrate you, you feel like you have melted, a dripping wet mess of sensuality and lust. You feel every action as if it were in slow motion, dragging out every sensation until it is agonising in the most wonderful of ways. You feel every fold of your sex parting for those fingers, every nerve of your clitoris being set alight by those sweeping strokes.
Even though it had spent so long being built up, your orgasm feels like it won’t stop, all the while those hands play you so finely, like an instrument. You shiver and cry out in pleasure, clutching at one of the hands like it is a lifeline, though nothing stops. After so long, too long, you begin to come down from that vicious pleasure – though still nothing changes. Your body remains too relaxed to open your eyes, too much in a dreary haze to pull yourself from the grasps. As the hands continue to work you, exploring your pussy just as intently, you feel yourself becoming trapped between two minds; one wants it to keep going and never stop, the other knows that having more orgasms like that forced upon you would become torturous. With the way the hands have not stopped manipulating however, you won’t have a choice in the matter.
She had long heard stories of the property, how sometimes the sounds of females moaning could be heard within. Regarded by many as the house of pleasure, it was still her job to try and sell it no matter what people believed about the building. Her curiosity had certainly taken hold after hearing tales of women appearing within the property, strangers who lured trespassers into long nights of constant sexual torment, though often these tales were met with complete disregard. It was only when she heard the sound of the showers running that she decided to investigate for herself. Once she entered the shower room, she was greeted by a group of women who seemed ready for her, as if they existed solely for her own fantasies. The sense of warmth and welcoming beckoned her onwards, as if entranced and magnetised towards these people who surely weren’t real; it was as if the moment she laid eyes on them, any sense of fear or disbelief was washed away. Whether ghostly entities or a figment of her own imagination, they were there with her right now, there to make use of her erotic presence.
Once he awoke, he began to recollect meeting this woman as if piecing together a dream he had been yanked from. The way he had tried to entice her, drinks and dancing provided as a pathway to seduction. He was amazed at first that of all the people in the club, she only had eyes for him. She had indeed made the first move; the moment she kissed him, he was hers. It felt as if her lips were coated with the most addictive of drugs – he didn’t realise how close to the truth this was. That’s when he became confident, knowing that she wanted him. He whispered to her all of the things he was going to do, how he’d tie her down and tease her until she was begging him to fuck her.
“How many times are you going to make me come?” she had asked.
“Until you’re screaming for me to stop,” he replied.
That was the last thing he recalled, before waking up here.
Hannah had known that there were traps within the cavern to stop treasure hunters in their tracks, though she was never expecting to be apprehended by an organic entity. The centuries-old mechanisms she had navigated through seemed to be a way to detract her attention from the slow moving entity. All the mass of tentacles needed was to lay patiently in waiting for its unsuspecting prey.
It quickly became apparent that it had no intention to kill her. After an hour of struggling and unsuccessfully trying to escape its clutches, she soon came to find that a quick death or even torture was not its goal – or at least not the kind of torture she had feared.
Once it had finally stripped and secured its new prisoner, it was free to show her how this long forgotten civilisation punished those who dared seek out their treasures.
It took its time turning her fear into arousal, armed with hundreds of years of experience honing its skills on the human anatomy. After an hour, Hannah was writhing, all thoughts of escape had been rendered mute by such deliberated seduction. It was too dark to make out the minute details of the guardian, though it had absolutely no trouble in tantalising the minute details of her own body. It read her every desire as if each one of her movements were its very own script. Tiny tendrils snaked across her body and teased every sensitivity. Her mind’s eye could not keep up with the ways it explored between her thighs. Through such disgust and fear, the creature knew just how to cause her body to betray her; it had much experience in making one lose themselves to the desires of the flesh. So many tendrils caressed the lips of her sex while others sought out the delicate jewel nestled within, slowly circling until her clitoris was pulsating with arousal.
While Hannah tried fruitlessly to escape the clutch of her captor, deep down she wondered, with how much this thing was tapping into her most intimate desires, if she’d have even ran at all. If only she knew what was to come, perhaps she’d have tried so much harder. She of course knew that this was to ward off explorers, but still was not sure why it was treating her to such a whirlwind of pleasure, seducing her body like the most attentive of lovers. As time went on though, and as it continued to arouse her without pushing towards making her come, she’d soon understand that this was the punishment itself.
It would not give her the respite of caressing that sensitive clitoris the way she needed. For so long it had toyed with that little morsel, causing her hips to sway in a desperate bid to communicate that it had won her over. Instead those little tendrils continued to caress her folds like cruel fingertips, as if taking joy from every twitch of anticipation, while those at her clitoris slid and prodded tenderly like one hundred tongues all playing with their meal.
The more it went on, the more it learnt about her, and how to keep her teetering on the edge. Suddenly came the little strokes of a phallus against her soft, wet petals, just pushing to that twitching opening. Always enough to make her hope for more though still it would not offer relief, keeping her pussy constantly dripping without any sign of penetration. Each time the tip of that large appendage pressed to her, Hannah felt what seemed to be soft little cilia moving autonomously, completely covering that bulbous head. It wreaked havoc on her to imagine what that would feel like if only it slid inside, to be fucked while having them stroke right against the most sensitive parts within.
Once it started to vibrate, to have her feel every ridge and groove writhe, she begged and pleaded like her life depended on it – all to no response. It simply kept the wondrous tip just far enough away to let her feel it press her pussy lips apart every time she gyrated her hips against it. Feeling the little cilia-like structures oscillate just at her opening, swaying a little as if trying to slip a little further into her pussy, was truly maddening. This tentacle based life-form was more intelligent than Hannah ever expected to find here; it was actively toying with her, and it wanted her to know that her efforts to fight against it were hopeless.
Another, more human-like phallus was introduced to her other lips, to feel those thick, pulsing inches against her tongue. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks as she imagined how that motion of penetration would feel for her agonizingly teased pussy. The way it let a sucker-tipped tentacle devour her nipples seemed to drive the point home: it knew what she craved and wanted her to think about how much more it could do.
Even just the slight teasing motions around her clitoris, the occasional hum of pleasure to her pussy, was enough to bring her towards the pinnacle. Adding the suction to her nipples flung her right to the edge. It drew her nipple up and lavished that stiff peak with numerous tongue-like sensations, all in a bid to make sure she never lost focus of what it could do to such a small part of her body. Every time she got close however, it kept her on the brink for as long as she could possibly take – slowing the motion of the tendrils and backing off with the buzzing phallus.
She knew full well that her pleas had no effect, yet when the tendrils peeled back her clitoral hood to let another sucker brush over the tip, she still screamed out every promise and plea her mind could muster, just to feel it clamp down on it.
Once the sucker did finally snatch that engorged nub into its fold to suck relentlessly, the tentacles would have to tighten their grip on Hannah as every muscle tensed and strained in shock and joy. Though that would not be for quite some time. The tentacle beast had grown accustomed to the the many ways of teasing humans to the brink of insanity. With so much time spent alone and undisturbed, it made the most of its one and only activity.
She would not be saved from this torture. It knew how to suckle against and draw pleasure from every nerve ending in her clitoris. It knew how to explore every inch of her pussy and devour the joy of her G-spot. It knew how to keep her skin aflame with need and her breasts heaving in constant anticipation. It was going to take its time showing her the depths of pleasure too hellish to believe. To make her weep at the decision to ever enter this place.
She had bought the house having been warned against the strange occurrences within, knowing that the man who had previously rented it spoke of strange whispers and had sensed other presences within. She however thought little of this foolishness. Though after living there for over a month, the rumours proved quite true.
She had been masturbating before it happened, thinking of being fucked hard and fast by different men, getting so close to climax at the thought of such intense penetration. When she was on the verge however, she suddenly blacked out. It only felt like a second later that she awoke in the bed, yet now she was wearing some other attire, her body uncovered, her wrists restrained to the bed, helpless.
The sensations of being near climax still somehow tingled throughout her body, yet there was nothing she could do to relieve the desire. After a moment, the whispers began, whispers of pure sexual desire, whispers of how erotic she looked, how much they wanted to fuck her. Suddenly a blindfold slipped over her eyes as she called out, begging the invisible entities to let her go – still they merely whispered their desires.
Her fear began to give way to astonishment as the sensation of cool fingertips caressed her body, lightly tracing every inch. After an hour of this, her fear had been entirely replaced by pure need. The blindfold kept her constantly in a state of uncertainty, locked in her own imagination, while the non-stop light as a feather touches kept her aching for more.
Hours went by like this, being constantly touched and teased without relief. She begged, she screamed, she cried out for more, but still the presences which feasted on her arousal seemed content to let her writhe in anguish.
After many more hours, they began to focus on those most sensitive little areas; the sensation of fingertips, tongues and lips trailing over her nipples, over the unbearable sensitivity of her soaking wet sex, over her aching, pulsating clitoris.
Having resigned herself to this cruel fate, she realises that nothing will stop them. Tonight will be a long night of constant teasing torture. Her only hope is that, by the end, they might let her have the orgasm she prays for.
Kidnapped on the way home from the party, Anna had no idea that her Halloween outfit was a perfect match for the crime fighting heroine ‘Blue Spark’. The cruel Mistress Spider did not believe any of the protests and pleas from the innocent girl. Mistress Spider wanted the exact details of the heroes’ hideout and was intent on torturing the information from her no matter how long it took. Ensnared by Mistress Spider, Anna could only beg and scream as she was forced to orgasm repeatedly and relentlessly. No matter what Anna said, the merciless villain did not stop; Anna soon began to try to will herself to pass out, yet still her body was wracked with orgasm after orgasm. Mistress Spider was certain that soon the woman would crack, that soon the countless, constant orgasms would force even Blue Spark to give in. Until then she was going to simply enjoy the display. For Anna there was no escape.
Whispers of eroticism twisting through the night air; like a petal entwined in breeze, you writhe, lost in the mystical passions that threaten to consume you.
Neither asleep nor truly awake, you feel an embrace like no other, as if the atmosphere itself is lovingly caressing your body, keeping you held in its place. Not being fully awake, fear does not cloud the enchantment of sensuality your body possesses. The first ripples of movement around your body has it curious for more, as if the slightest sense of activity in the air sets your nerves alight.
The caressing movement of the sheets presses over your body as if they were the hands of a thousand masseurs exploring the contours of your female frame. Your body seems to burn with a need, yet there is no way of ever knowing whether time has passed in seconds or hours – every touch upon your body seems to linger for an eternity.
The embrace of the entity against your chest sends a warm surge down to your toes, instinctively your hands press to the sheets, clasping onto nothing but cotton yet still feeling as if all the hands in the world were focused on your body.
As your skin is exposed, the air itself seems to kiss every morsel of you, as if the sensual whispers were showing their appreciation. You writhe in agonised ecstasy as your breasts are caressed once again, every fibre of your sexuality being enticed effortlessly. The sheets embrace you ceaselessly, like a sea of pleasure washing over you, threatening to drown you. Unlike fingers, the motions wreaking havoc around your body feel like countless threads of silk twining around your skin.
The movements lead between your thighs, making your internal, sub-conscious voice cry out in bliss. The sheet envelops you, a mass of pleasure encasing you as you rock uncontrollably, feeling like the sensation of a hundred silky brushes rolling along the deepest sensitivities of your sex, all under the firm grasp of the sheet rocking against your womanhood.
You will not awake from this abyss of pleasure until the desires of the night are through with you; passing out, screaming out, shielding yourself – these are options beyond your control. You are merely the passenger, they shall drive you to the greatest heights of pleasure.
Without control, without respite, you moan into the eternity of the night.