She lies there, hoping and praying that tonight will be any different, yet it is always the same. Time after time the whispers drift throughout the room; soft as feathers, yet the effects strike like talons. Every night they tell her to open herself to the whims of that which cannot be seen, yet the touches are unmistakable.
No matter how much she questions the beings or speaks to them, no answers are given except for the same orders, to keep spread-eagled and motionless. Whatever these bodiless entities were, their power over the girl was beyond human comprehension. They would tease her body in ways no mortal could manage, though this is where the girl’s torment truly took hold. While they always ordered her to remain in the position, the delights wrought on her were always too much to endure; they kept bringing her to the edge of orgasm in ways her mind could not fathom, in ways which finally made her give in before they granted her the orgasm she craved. As soon as she moved, the beings vanished, leaving her wanting. The cruelty was that they always left her stuck in this state, making sure that she could not orgasm even under her own manipulations, sealing her orgasm off until they returned the next night… and the next… and the next.
She has lost count how many nights it has been, yet still they pay no heed to her begging and whimpering, they simply give the one single order and continue their work. No matter what she wears, the cloth is no barrier to them, it is as if her skin were moving and teasing itself. It has always been the same since the beginning, they always work so painfully slow, spreading warm sensations all over her body, yet when the attention hones onto her clitoris and nipples, she loses it.
Tonight her silken black underwear is no defence as usual – they assault her body with constant lingering touches. No matter how much she mentally prepares herself, her every nerve reacts to what feels like hundreds of fingertips darting between her thighs to seduce the wetness within. No matter how hard she clenches her fingers and how much she tenses every muscle in retaliation, her body is always overcome with horrifying ease.
She tries once again with all of her might to hold her composure, to not give in, to finally last until the sweet kiss of orgasm is granted; yet each day of being denied has taken its toll more and more, making the following day even harder still. Frustrated cries of desperation fill the room as her body arches, clutching at the bed in need. She knows it is helpless, left to experience another 24 hours coping with the build-up of unreleased arousal.
She will have to go through it all over again. She prays that tomorrow night will yield what she wishes for most.
Continue reading Hoping and Praying…