The Need

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Anticipation once again permeated throughout the room as the audience took to their seats. The previous nights had been so intense, watching her being teased constantly without the hope of climax. Perhaps this would be the night that she’d be given respite from the agonizing need. It was such a tantalizing affair to watch such beautiful suffering, such desire, knowing that the performer had been selected due to her sensitivity. She was paid very handsomely. However, this was a way to see something beyond an act, to see raw passion so fully exposed, pure, unfiltered desire laid open beyond any mere performance. They were here to see sexuality at its finest.  

The slow, calculated bathing ritual was, of course, meant to arouse as much as cleanse. However, these last couple of nights had been pure hell even without their grazing fingertips; a glance towards her bare skin was enough to burn like a lick of flame. The silence was what made it all so much worse, particularly when she was on the stage. The intimacy of the small audience kept her aware of how every pair of eyes was constantly lingering on her body, letting her bask in the heat of the thoughts that must be racing through their minds. If the teasing touches from being bathed and prepared were like the ebb of the tide against her arousal, the man’s hands against her were like a tsunami crashing over her.

He had so much experience with teasing and tormenting his targets, honed to perfection and unleashed on this girl’s body all at once. The way his fingers trailed and played, caressed and penetrated. He always left the audience just on the brink as much as her, wondering whether she’d topple over, but he always knew when to stop. They had worked together for too long for him to make any mistakes, to not be able to read her little signs. They both wanted the same thing: for the audience to be able to taste the desire, to feel every pulse of longing. She wanted the men to feel that throb and imagine how it would feel within; he wanted the women to feel that convulsion and for them to moan in unison every time he entered her. However, as time went on, her attention veered from the audience and more onto herself as her mind joined her body in a desperate plea to climax. It was the same every day they performed, but as the week went on, it happened sooner and sooner. Though each time she whispered for him to please let her come, she was met with an audible ‘no’, loud enough for the audience to know what she’d asked and to let them revel in her sweet despair.

When his rock-hard cock was inside her, the tension was palpable. Every thrust seemed as if it would be the one to throw them over the edge; every wet slap of penetration was expected to be joined by her screams of release, yet still, they both held on. He had also spent just as long as her without orgasm, though he loved it, the way it made him feel so stiff and full and how much more it added to the show. It was, after all, all about the show; their pleasure was the centre stage. That was why, when she gasped that she was about to come and the audience held their breath in anticipation, he withdrew and simply motioned ‘no’. Leaving her on edge as much as the audience, perhaps tomorrow he’ll be at the point where his will would be broken, where the desire to show off the art of lust wouldn’t outweigh his desperate need to come. She, however, was already beyond that point. Perhaps tomorrow the artistic, sensual splendour of orgasm will be on display, but not tonight.

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Futile.

Knowing the barrier of the fabric won’t let those fingers press right there.

Knowing those slender digits won’t apply enough pressure on your achingly in-need clit, or sink between your moist, swollen pussy lips.

Certain that you will not receive the friction you need or the intimate penetration that every inch of your body screams out for.

Certain that the pattern will continue, that those cruel, teasing fingertips will torment the gorgeously smooth mound of your femininity continuously.

Yet still, you thrust your hips up, rock your waist back and forth, as if it will make any difference. As if bucking and writhing will provide any relief or draw any mercy.

Utterly futile.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Consider it revenge. How your body, your lingerie, ignites the imagination, so too does this brush. I know you want that firm touch, that deep penetration. Yet, as much as you may hope for fingertips to press against or a mouth to embrace tightly or a cock to thrust intently, instead, you will endure the slow torment of these soft bristles. What the sight of you makes me fantasise about, I want to make you fantasise about tenfold.

If you’re a good girl and hold your hips still, you’ll feel the brush focusing directly on that deliciously swollen clitoris. Until I think you’re ready for that mercy, however, you’ll feel those soft bristles, like feather tips, gliding gently up and down your mound and along your juicy, wet pussy lips. The brush has become slightly wet from sinking along your folds and tantalising your desperate entrance. I can see how the trail glistens against the smooth skin of your wonderful, plump little mound, so elevated with arousal.

Behind the blindfold and within the restraints, you may be imagining all manner of tongues flicking against your clit. Maybe you’re thinking of fingers or stiff lengths slipping up and down at the ready to slide inside and fuck you intensely. Yet, for now, you’ll need to relax as much as you can, as you’ll be enduring the fluttering motions of this brush for a long, long time.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Model: Nova Gold

Work-Life Balance

You wanted to experience what I can do to you?

I couldn’t help but smirk a little when you first asked. On the phones at work, those brief moments when you managed to prise the details of my sexual appetite from my lips. Perhaps it was the tone, maybe the choice of words, maybe even the way I looked you deep in the eyes as I spoke, but something sparked that fire, that longing. The curiosity kept getting the better of you, asking how I did it to the other girls, where you could watch it, what kinds of toys I used and how I used them. Work was never the suitable place to answer in detail, but I gave you just enough to keep your imagination alight. Finally, once I thought your curiosity had run its course, after such silence on the topic, you asked the question that caused that smile, which you still think of now. How I pictured you teasing and pleasuring yourself to the content I had led you to, wanting to allow you to explore your desires to the fullest. Though I never expected the words to drift from your alluring lips.

“Would you do that to me? Even just once?”

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Just imagine being in her position right now, completely lost in the sensations, trapped in the eroticism. 

That motion along your chest, those fleeting little sensations up and down your cleavage, leading that scenic pathway to those slowly stiffening peaks. The little pinch that makes you feel those sharp little tugs from her pursed lips. It’s only when you are desperate for more, once you cannot stand the attention placed solely on your chest, that the motions lead downwards. 

Just trailing along your thighs, leading that swirling dance towards that coveted space. The tender motions, almost like brushstrokes, sweep closer and closer until your hips plead for contact. 

You can feel it so clearly as the lips press right there, the way your wrists would strain against those bonds in a bid for some resemblance of control. Behind the blindfold, you can imagine countless lovers and idols of lust. All of them feasting so intently upon that soft, sweet sex. How that mouth would work you to a frenzy, just keeping you held in the clutches of bliss but never quite unleashing the fury you need. Always keeping steady enough to not let you veer too close. Not quite to get you to the edge repeatedly, but instead to merely take the very longest route.

On and on that mouth suckles and caresses, like the slowest masturbation, just enough to build it, but so slowly it takes every ounce of control not to speed up. At this speed, you know what that wondrous lover between your legs knows; once you finally climax, it will feel more intense than any other way you’ve masturbated before. But it won’t stop or speed up. That pace will keep you held in the grasp of that orgasm for the longest time possible.

That’s it, get ready for it. You know it’s coming…

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Just A Glitch

Just a glitch.

Just a glitch, she thought to herself, hoping. The buzzing once again slowly built up after that abrupt halt. The internet feed continued, so there didn’t seem to be any power outage; she thought that it must have been a malfunction of the Sybian vibrator’s program. It turned her on more than anything to know so many people were watching her in this state of pleasure, ready to see her orgasm over and over again. She had always been so sensitive, so easy to bring to orgasm. Little did she know that the purpose of the set was quite the opposite. 

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You have no idea how long I’m going to force you to orgasm or how hard I’m going to press the vibrator to your already oversensitive clitoris. All you know is that the longer I keep you on the edge like this, the more intense it is going to be. That wonderfully erotic mixture of apprehension and anticipation for how it’s going to finally feel, nothing is more of a turn-on. 

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She wanted to experience the most intense desire possible, to be utterly tortured with pleasure; she was going to get it. Restrained entirely to lock her into this prison of ecstasy, she could only shudder and writhe in response to the constant vibration radiating throughout her sex. The tape over her eyes kept her focused solely on the sounds of the earphones, the continuous sounds of pleasure, which further added to the torment. All she could do was picture the source of such sounds; women masturbating to long desired orgasms, men thrusting themselves deep into those hot wet little pussies until the soft slapping sounds of hard penetration unleashed their longings. 

The tape over her mouth, however, made the ordeal much crueller. While she could not plead or beg, even her moans were to be locked away. Any time she moaned or made any sound of pleasure, the vibrator was taken away just enough for the welling orgasm to recede before being placed back on her frustrated pussy. Being completely unaware of her surroundings and shielded from the external sounds due to the tape and the earphones, keeping herself in check was even harder, causing the occasional whimper of pleasure to spill forth. This, of course, meant her orgasm was itself prevented from spilling forth. Being so sensitive to the intensity of the vibrator, made even more fierce by the unspeakably erotic situation with which she was helplessly captive, the cycle seemed to never end. Finally, she had experienced the pleasure she had so yearned for, to be brought to the pinnacle of what she could handle, the utmost frustration of edging and denial. Though now she could not speak out or scream that it was too much, that she’d reached her limit, she was forced to endure it for so much longer than she ever thought possible.

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“As you can both see, the combination of the restraints and having us all present at once elicits much more intense physical and verbal responses.  She had come to us seeking aid in achieving orgasm, as she had been unable to do so with another person present. However, there seems to be no such issue as I have been able to repeatedly bring her to the verge of climax with stimulation through vibration. Patience was the only real factor that needed to be addressed. If either of you is wondering, the reason why I haven’t made her actually orgasm yet is so that the moment can be heightened as much as possible. She has been begging for quite some time now. We’ll keep this going until she truly cannot take any more, then she’ll truly experience an orgasm unlike any other. I suggest we try and see if we can force her to endure more after that. 

I’m sorry, my dear. No matter how much you beg it, won’t make any difference.”

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source: realtickling (linkable source unknown)

Confines of Your Mind

Free within the confines of your mind, you can surrender yourself to your fantasies.

You tease yourself to the thought of letting your lust overcome you, unconfined to thoughts of fear, doubt and security; sex is all there is. The electric surges of pleasure flow throughout you as your body slowly succumbs to the scenarios your mind creates; the more your sex convulses to the touch of your fingertips against those soft petals of flesh, the more your imagination wanders further, deeper. Even as the pleasure builds to something more, you try to control it and hold it back, not allowing yourself the release you will soon truly crave. Hips swaying as you imagine stripping for a stranger, ready to ride that hardness your feel between your thighs, unleashing your animalistic desires, you are only just getting started…

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