"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".
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.
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.
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.
“Oh you thought that was it, that it was going to stop just because you passed out?”
Forced orgasms were all she’d written, all she’d requested. She’d come to wish that she’d added a stipulation for it to stop. Yet there would be no escape. Even her own screams and pleas were not granted the freedom to escape her lips. The only thing that would escape her were the hopes of any mercy. She would simply come, and come, and come again.
“Forced orgasms” was all she had written, and it was what she’d receive. Once the haunted house had stolen Lily’s companions from her, she welcomed the presence of the strangers around her, all cloaked in black and leading her to the room. It was foreboding to see the mattress at the centre of the sinister looking room, though she was thankful that it was warm and rather comfortable once they laid her down on it. She had resigned herself to the fate ahead as they restrained her to it and placed the ball gag in her mouth.
“You will scream,” whispered one of the figures as the other left. At that, he removed the cloak and looked upon her body with a hunger in his eyes. She shied away from his gaze before he knelt beside her and began his exploration of her pleasure.