"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".
Category: Female Denial
Teasing and denial focused on females.
She had often mentioned to her boyfriend how she fantasised about playing with other women; never did she dream that her fantasy would be lived out unexpectedly on a spa break. She certainly noticed him having a lengthy chat with these two ladies over the weekend, though she wouldn’t have believed that they were discussing when would be the right opportunity to take her, strip her and all have their way with her.
“If nobody hears us, we’ll have plenty of time alone with you here, so I’ve told these girls they can go extra slowly with you. I know it feels good sweetheart, but we can’t afford to let you come in case anyone hears us in here, I know how loud you are.”
Every time it pulls away, the desperation feels one hundred times worse.
She thought she was prepared for the auction, ready to indulge in whatever the master who had the winning bid had prepared for her, ready for a few months of luxury and erotic servitude; she couldn’t wait.
What she had not expected however was the specifications that the auction required, for the maids who were to be auctioned off to be in a state of desperate sexual longing. To make sure they looked most appetising to the bidders, the auctioneers were thorough in making sure the only thoughts on the girls minds were the need to orgasm and the orders they’d obey to soon be allowed that release.
All that is on her mind now is the buzz of the vibrator and the unbearable pulses of longing between her thighs. Every day for the week before the auction she has been brought to the edge countless times, until she has offered anything for an orgasm or even just another jolt of pleasure that comes from being brought to the edge. Another two days until the auction, another two days of being vibrated to the brink and having it stop, repeated until she can barely think or speak. Another two days of begging for the chance to come, knowing it won’t happen, no matter how many times the words ‘please’ escape her lips. Her only problem is that the auction caters most specifically for masters who greatly enjoy denial; she will be begging for a long time to come.
Letting your imagination take you further than reality ever could, you fight back that need to let your fingers sink inside yourself. You relish in the thought of being put under another’s control, to be teased and tormented mercilessly.
Your hips rock as the images flash through your mind, being tied and helpless, ensnared by another woman. Her tongue torments you while you can do nothing but strain against the bondage, restrained for her desires, blindfolded to feel even more helpless while she feasts on your pussy. The slow trickle of your fingers mimic the motion of her cruel tongue, keeping you dangling on the knife edge of pleasure. No matter how much your body screams out for the mercy of an orgasm, you will wait; your fantasies have so much more in store…
The way your hips sway to these slow, teasing ministrations. You always want to feel so open, so exposed for me. It isn’t just the intensity of the sensations which keeps that prickling heat gliding along your body throughout, it is the simple knowledge that I’m going to keep you feeling this way, feeling yourself explored so calculatedly, for as long as possible. Not knowing exactly how long you will be kept this way keeps you constantly lost behind that blindfold, lost in a constantly rising tide of arousal.
I like keeping your lingerie on, it let’s you understand that there’s so much more that you will feel. Such sweet anticipation.
How your hips rock for attention while my tongue merely flutters against those exposed little parts, so close yet so far. So much teasing along your pussy lips, all with the intent to keep you focused so much on that one little area that isn’t being touched yet. Then when my mouth finally presses firmly to your centre, you pull against the restraints in a mixture of delight and longing – the delight of the contact you have craved, and the longing for just that little bit more.
I’m going to keep you like this for a while, the whole time making you wish that this little piece of fabric wasn’t shielding your delicacy from my lips.
Think of that mouth pressing to that soft, sensitive little wet slope. Let’s see if the anticipation alone is enough to make you come, before the act.
Continuing the analysis of depth of penetration applied via machine model 14. After numerous sessions with the subject, the optimal angle and motion has been confirmed and inputted into the database.
Test Subject 0057 has had to be restrained in a more secure manner than previous to prevent any further thrusting motions, as she has continuously attempted to sway her hips in order to gain a deeper penetration.
This analysis into the control of the penetrative machine has shown that the device had not been correctly calibrated; some of the thrusts were giving a less accurate penetration. After many tests with the subject, this has been corrected, with the machine constantly penetrating just below the threshold which would typically cause for full sexual fulfillment: precisely a 1 inch penetration has been consistently recorded so far. Even when the speed is increased to maximum, the depth of penetration now remains unchanged, keeping to a 1 inch penetration while causing for a rapid speed which simulates a vibration.
Previous tests with the subject had caused for her to call for mercy after 20 minutes. She had been instructed to abstain from this until the need for more sexual penetration was unbearable. With the machine now properly adjusted to apply an accurate, consistent penetration, the subject has begun begging after 12 minutes 17 seconds. I shall however keep the observation continuing for another 30 minutes to make absolutely sure that the collaboration remains consistent.
Test subject 0057 continues to beg repeatedly for a deeper penetration which will not be granted.
Wherever they had come from, those fetching panties that she had discovered in her drawer were going to inflict a night of passion upon her that she would never forget.
The silky softness of that tight little piece of fabric made her hunger for the touches against her sensuous mound; never in her most erotic dreams could she imagine that those panties would embody something which hungered for her just as much.
From the moment she put them on, she longed to caress her sex, the cool silk seemed to enhance every sensation, after mere seconds it seemed as if every nerve ending in her body had focused its attention to just that one space between her legs. The deep longing grew and grew until simply the slippery stroke of a fingertip was not nearly enough. She had felt the joy of being teased plenty of times before, yet this longing was unlike anything else, as if every passing second added an hour’s worth of tantalisation.
She removed the lingerie hastily, unaware that its spell had long been cast upon her body the moment they were worn, the moment they encased her sensitive womanhood.
Completely naked and exposed, she still felt the familiar sensation of the cool, soft silkiness clinging to her sex, though all her attention was on the uncontrollable longing which burned between her legs. Her fingers magnetised towards it, yet instead of the fulfilling comfort of masturbation, they were stopped. As if they were being held back, she could not push her hands any further down. No matter how much she tried to slide her fingers down to quench the fire raging within her sex, she was left held so cruelly close. While the unendurable longing did not seem to die down, her pussy seemed to be throbbing with more need by each second.
The tingling seemed to increase to a burning need, until moments later it was like she were trapped in the vice of an impending orgasm that wouldn’t come; still her pussy was inexplicably out of reach. Suddenly her arms were pulled back and came to rest above her head, pinned in place as if they were being held tightly. Just as fast, her pussy was embraced by sensations she could not explain or comprehend. Even while her pussy was bare, she could feel the familiar sensation of the silky material embracing her. This sensation seemed to combine with a stimulation of being touched by the softest of fingertips, of being licked by the most precise tongue, of being nibbled by the most eager mouth.
She thought her engorged mound would explode with need as repeatedly she was brought so close to orgasm and held there, before it backed off just enough to leave her hips thrusting for more. She wanted to touch herself, to touch anywhere, just to feel the soft curves of her heat stricken body; still she remained held in place, tormented to a state of craving that she had never thought possible. The constant writhing of her hips did nothing to increase the formless yet ever present and unyielding manipulations to her soft, delicate mound.
Finally, when she thought her consciousness could not stand any more of that tantalising torture, it happened. Her pussy felt like it had suddenly been devoured with pure stimulation, as if her entire sex were being sucked, every tiny detail and sensitivity of that swollen mound seemed to be being latched onto by the air itself. After so much time spent in the hell of denial, the sudden avalanche of suction was a heaven of orgasmic bliss. Her orgasm seemed to never end – she didn’t want it to, all she cared about was the unparalleled pleasure that confined her to the bed. Wave after wave of orgasm was sucked from her, the mixture of such long denial and the longing brought about by the lingerie kept fuelling the orgasmic fire. As if reading her mind, the sucking stopped, ceasing just as the almost painfully intense orgasms started to cross the line of being unbearable.
Once she was able to move her arms, she knew it was over. All was still and quiet in the room. Finally able to catch her breath, as if her lungs were also finally her own now, she simply lay there motionless, recovering from the fiercest orgasms she had ever experienced.
As she lay there, she thought to herself that she may wait at least another week before putting those back on.
Princess Sohia had quickly found that her fantasy and reality were not at all in sync. After the long and perilous journey from Helm to the Vaunt Empire, she was greeted not by the welcoming arms of her lover, but by guards and a swift imprisonment.
“You’ll be sorry if you don’t release me. Prince Tobias will not stand for this, he’ll punish you once he finds out I’m here.” Her protests and threats meant nothing to the guards.
She had expected to be led to the Prince once she had passed through the gates to the great empire of Vaunt. While always seen as a hostile territory to her own Kingdom, there had always been a certain level of respect for the majestic stone architecture which encompassed the mammoth realm she was now a captive of. At once she was separated from her personal guard and led towards the central castle. Led to a cell and imprisoned within the dungeons, she had hoped that the next person she would see would be Prince Tobias. Dangling from her shackled wrists held above her head, at the centre of the cell, Princess Sophia was approached by a group of women. With their plain white robes, she recognised these as the castle maidens. Accompanied by guards – who simply stood around the room and watched – the maidens stripped the captive and began bathing her. Sophia’s protestations did nothing to dissuade them. Neither the guards nor the maidens made any sound at all as sponges and hands soaped up and cleaned the completely naked girl.
She had never expected to experience such torment, to repeatedly feel the sensations that continued to ebb away at her will-power.
Every night she turned up, like a moth to a flame. The advertisement had requested a female to be used for the class of massage students to practice on. She had not expected them to practice on her all at once, every night to be touched so much by so many soft, oily hands.
The massage instructor had told her not to masturbate for the duration of the week so that she remained most sensitive and responsive. The need overwhelmed her night after night, yet she somehow managed to hold out after every class. The thought of holding herself back was not only a challenge she wanted to succeed in, it was also something that had aroused her the moment she was first told it – the thought of trying to contain her own desires.
Each night she lay on the massage table as they circled around, each caressing her body and sliding their hands sensually all over. The girls took so much pleasure in arousing their subject, knowing that such a long, sensual massage – night after night – must have been unbearable. Occasionally one or two of them would let their fingertips brush against the lips of her sex, taking much delight in letting her arousal simmer, though never giving her the exploration she began to internally beg for. They kept gliding their palms so gently and slowly along the girl’s body, always working in unison to constantly stoke the flame.
Her mind could not follow the patterns of so many hands; soon it became a constant motion of erotic sensations sweeping over her skin.
By the end of the week, the classes, as well as the indescribable need afterwards, had become torture… yet still she went, with only one more night left.