"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."
“Please! Please let me come. I can’t take it anymore.”
If only her pleas could bring any mercy or respite.
Aerith had been warned about venturing off alone. She wasn’t scared of Shinra however, and felt as if there was little that could be hazardous in the flower gardens. How wrong she was; there were other things besides Shinra that had taken an interest in this magically powerful Cetra.
The flame of pleasure once again scorches through her, though again it is not enough. All she can do is grind up and down on the rock-hard member that continues to feed on her ecstasy. The demons needed her to continue, and they wouldn’t be satisfied until they had their fill.
Every year she had to perform the same ritual for the sake of her village. There was no telling what these beings would do if they were unleashed upon the village to search and satiate their appetite, so she did what she must every year – offer herself as the sacrifice to their lustful needs.
For the entire night, they use her body one after the other, caressing, groping and penetrating her, each year growing more accustomed to just what turns her on the most. Although she is used to it now, however, the first time was quite a shock, a level of torment that she had not expected. The demons fed solely off of her pleasure, therefore, every time she came, that orgasm was sapped from her into the beings. Not only was the orgasm taken from her in the sense of its energy, but also the very sensation itself, meaning that every time she came, only the first millisecond of it could be felt before it was stolen so cruelly from her. The first couple of years were torture – when she had originally submitted herself to be the martyr of the village – now she knew exactly what to expect, though it never made it any easier to withstand.
In order to build up enough sexual energy for it, she abstained from sex for most of the year, meaning she came very few times throughout the year, making it all the more difficult to endure this torment of being kept from experiencing a full orgasm. The demons, of course, seemed to enjoy this sense of torment, making sure she had little rest. There was no denying that it was a pleasure, unlike anything else, for her to be the very centre of such sexual energy, to have her own body being the object of their lust and very being. Even the minuscule bout of pleasure from the orgasm torn from her was enough to keep her wanting the next – if only they’d give her respite just once, to let her enjoy it just that one time.
She had never truly expected the spell to work, to summon a demon to do her bidding, though it seemed worth just at least trying it if there was a chance of being in possession of power that would make her life so much easier and richer. However, it was far too late to turn back once she realised that it wasn’t a mystical aide that she’d summoned, but a demon of lust.
Before she could even begin a plea for him to spare her, he had already gripped her and transported them instantly back to his kingdom.
“In my world, there is no time, I can keep you here for the human equivalent of 100 years and still summon you back to your world without a second having passed. I will only send you back once I have had my fill.”
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 run 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. However, as time went on, 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 as if 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, 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.
If she knew what he really was, she’d have run long ago. A being from a world that sees 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.
Overcome by a sudden urge to pleasure herself, Melissa stripped and began stroking her sensitive pussy like her life depended on it. Even though it usually took a while for her to get into things and start to get close, this time it seemed like the flames of orgasm were rising within the very moment her fingers swept over her delicate mound. She couldn’t believe how wet she was, yet there was no time to ponder what had caused this outburst of desire. All that mattered was that she came.
It was mere seconds for her to feel ready to come. Minutes soon passed. Still, there was no end, as if she were trapped in that same cycle of arousal with no outlet. No matter how fast she stroked or how intently her fingers pressed, whether she slid inside or just honed in on her clitoris, Melissa could not overcome the pinnacle. The more she tried, the more she needed it, like a well of pleasure with no limit to what it could hold. She had no idea how long she had been masturbating, but tears of frustration began to form. It soon seemed as if every sexual scenario and erotic fantasy had been cycled through her mind. Nothing seemed enough to tip her over the edge.