"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".
On the night of Christmas, she came to grant his wish, though it would last far beyond merely just the night. Awakened from such a gentle sleep, already fully strapped down and helpless for his dream situation. She said nothing, there was no need, her touches would convey everything needed. Every year she would fulfil a lucky man’s greatest desire.
Just the lightest touch from her felt like an electric shock of sheer ecstasy, so intense that he was almost worried how it would feel once she pressed her entire hand around it, or even her mouth. He’d soon find out though that her sexual power was far beyond what he’d ever have imagined, that there would be no way of coming until she willed it upon him, no matter how much he could take. When he started to beg and shout out for release, the only response he’d continue to be met with was that same lustful gaze. She could keep him safely erect for as long as she desired, that would be enough to communicate her intent.
After the hours passed, in those brief moments when he could think of anything except the agonizing need for the orgasm trapped away, in the spare few seconds not spent hopelessly pleading with her to let him come, he wondered whether to call her an angel… or a demon.
If only she could do something to stop it, to even be able to speak and beg for its mercy. The demon however would not even give the mercy of letting her scream out from the sensations tearing throughout her body.
The tape still covered her, the necessary markings to summon the demon. How foolish she had been. The spell-book had stated that it would grant her a single wish, yet occasionally the being repeated the same message it had used to greet her once she had summoned it.
“Pitiful human female, long has passed since I have bestowed gifts of power and wealth to your kind. You dare bring me back with such demands. Let this punishment be a reminder that I am not your lackey.”
Nothing other than this was conveyed. Unable to speak, the only sound in the room, when the message was not being relayed to her, was the slick sound of her fingers constantly stroking her overly sensitive pussy. The demon’s victim had no control of her movements, all she could do was think of how desperately she needed it to stop. For what felt like hours, she was forced to masturbate relentlessly. Each orgasm thrust upon her swollen red sex after the first few would have brought her to her knees, made her curl into a ball and try to recover: yet it kept her standing.
The demon could have done anything to her, could have terribly contorted her body or made her act out any number of horrors. Though it delighted in this instead, being able to relish in her sexual torment, able to feel the physical anguish brought about by an act that would normally comfort her. While she could not scream out, it could feel and almost hear the screams emanating from this human girl’s clitoris every time she was forced to orgasm, the swift strokes honing in on that spot and never ceasing.
The first few times left her breathless, having never played with herself beyond the point of coming once; it was a pleasure she could not have ever experienced under her own administrations. The rest of the night however was spent exhaling through gritted teeth, internally praying that she may be spared from more ceaseless torture. By now she had expected to have become numb from the over-stimulation, yet the demon must have been stopping her body from protecting itself in such a way. Her assumption was correct.
The relentless attention to that delicate little nub was unbearable. Every muscle strained in a futile attempt to stop the onslaught to her clitoris, hoping to surface from the sea of agonising pleasure she was drowning under. It felt so horrifyingly cruel, to take such a sweet sensation and use it against her in this way. If she could speak, she’d have pleaded with the demon to take her if it wished, to penetrate her and use her for it’s own physical pleasure if it so desired; anything to just stop herself from coming for just a moment. It would have been a little easier if this wicked entity was the one who was touching her this way; knowing that her own fingertips were the ones tormenting her pussy made it so much worse, so much harder to comprehend.
Finally, once she was sure that she’d perish if she were to orgasm much more, certain her heart would give out, it all stopped. She gulped for air, every orgasm had caused for her to struggle for breath, and not being able to scream or moan out made it seem so much harder to inhale or exhale. Suddenly, the demon spoke once more, but this time was different.
“Your punishment is not over. You wished to take from me a gift, yet instead I shall take from you. Your orgasm, humankind’s moment of utmost rapture; this belongs to me now. Only on this date each year may you ask for it back for one night, but to do that you must summon me, and again I shall have my way with you the same. Farewell… for now.”
If she knew what he really was, she’d have run long ago. A being from a world that see’s humankind as toys to play with. A being possessing powers beyond human comprehension. A being that takes pure joy in deriving torture from pleasure.
It was the sensitivity within her body he could read that drew him to her as much as her beauty. Once he honed in on her at the club, there would be no way she could ignore that seductive gaze, an aura that seemed to hypnotize her.
Every part of her skin he touched seemed to light a fire of desire in that exact spot. She needed so much more. The more of her he touched, the more it seemed to intensify, like an electric surge of pleasure constantly sizzling throughout. It was like a magic touch; if only she knew. All she knew was that she needed him to touch her everywhere, to be inside her. At first she felt like the one in control, just as he wanted her to feel. When he was inside her, it was as if every fantasy in her life, every wet dream and sexual desire, had all built up to this moment as if preparing her for the ultimate pleasure.
His length seemed as if it were the only thing her pussy would ever need. No other man, no other toy or vibrator, had even come close to penetrating her or hitting that spot the way this was. The moment she was close however, was when something felt strange. The millisecond before her orgasm took hold of her, he pulled out. Yet instead of it stopping, the pleasure seemed to trap her. It still felt as if he were inside her, every inch pressing perfectly against her every sensitivity. She could not fathom what was happening, yet she couldn’t move or make a sound. Not because of any further spell by him, but because the sensation she was feeling was incomprehensible. Not even a minute passed before it was an unbearable hell. He had trapped her at the moment of climax, locked within that final convulsion before the pure joy was unleashed.
He simply sat and watched, enjoying his work. This was what he took such delight in, seeing human females brought to realms of unbearable pleasure. While gazing at this beautiful sight, he’d have told her that he may keep this going for hours if he desired, though she was too trapped within her hellish mixture of rapture and agony to hear or respond to anything. A minute hadn’t even passed, yet she was already in tears from this horrific limbo of denial and orgasm. It was like being forced to orgasm constantly, though without there being a true beginning or ending to the orgasm itself. That first single climactic surge, frozen in time.
It wouldn’t end until he penetrated her again. He was in no rush. This time of year, when his kind could roam freely around humans, only came for a few short weeks. He was going to make the most of it.