Never a warning, never a sign of any change, yet it was always the same day: October 31st.
She always ensured she stayed at home, the intoxicating aroma of dread, arousal and anticipation in the air, keeping her in the house every night on this date as if a prisoner in her own home.
It was always the same pattern. She would lie in bed, drifting off into the arms of sleep, when the night was at its most still and silent, the moonlight always shining through as if to bathe her in the most erotic glow for the unseen intruder, a preemptive spotlight.
At first, it was simply a gentle tease, like the softest of fingertips slowly alerting her body, tracing up and down her frame and waking both her mind and senses. It brought about feelings that made her want to touch herself, though whatever it was, it never allowed her to do such a thing. It wanted her pleasure brought about by itself alone.
Not once was a sound made except for her own breathing. Even after all this time, she still couldn’t stop herself from calling out to it, even though she knew there would be no reply. That moment was always when things began to get too much… it always became too much by the end.
Once she was fully awake and fully aroused, that’s when it truly began. The gentle touches became gentle masturbation. An unseen hand between her legs always knew just how to touch her, as if it had studied her own masturbation techniques every single day, wanting to use the knowledge to bring about the most tormenting night of her life every year. Whenever the covers were pulled back, and her clothes were torn off, the touching became more unbearable until she was moaning deeply for more. It clearly could have left her clothing on, as it somehow was able to manipulate her skin through the fabric, though it seemed to want her to feel even more vulnerable. The feeling of fingertips teetering around her sex trailed all throughout her body as if the air itself were tantalising her, playing with her.
While her hands were frequently thrust up above her head and down onto the bed to keep her helplessly in place, she could not prevent herself from trying to fight back. After all, she knew exactly what was to come, hour upon hour of constant teasing and denial. The being seemed to savour her moans and screams, delighting in her thrashing around in tortured bliss as what she felt to be a mouth pressed firmly to her dripping wet delicacy. As if it could read her very body and mind, it knew just when she was on the brink, able to hold her there for as long as possible before backing off just that little. Her screams for more, for mercy, did nothing to dissuade the entity; the torture continued this way beyond her tears of frustration.
Ever since the first time, it brought about a new sense of erotic longing to be teased this way. The joys of having her pleasure held back until that sweet boiling point. Even when experimenting with herself, nothing ever came close to being able to match the pure hell that this thing brought upon her each year. It just continued to suck and lick as her clitoris seemed to swell and swell more with every passing second. Time was lost to her, though it felt like it was denying her like this for hours, just feasting on her pussy in every way to keep her thighs trembling non-stop. Throughout the entire ordeal, as much as she cried and pleaded and screamed out, there was no denying that this was always the most erotic experience she ever had, something that deep down she longed for every year; the feeling of her pussy juices dripping down her ass and onto the bed was a testament to that.
Finally, once she thought her clitoris was about to explode – a throbbing button of heat and aching pleasure – it suddenly lifted her hips further and began fucking her.
She could never truly make out the physiology of the being, as it managed to switch between penetrating her and licking her fiercely in a heartbeat, with no real pause in between. The mixture of sensations devastated her. At times she wondered if she could pass out from needing to come so bad – that mercy was never granted. Her body was ravaged with pleasure from beginning to end, hours of being teased and fucked, drilled relentlessly with only brief periods of slowing down in a cruel bid to keep her from coming.
With the sweat and her own juices dripping from her, she was a wet mess of indescribable, agonising need. Once it knew she could take no more, it finally let her have what she needed. The following orgasms that it forced from her body left her delirious. She screamed so much she thought police would knock on the door, though nothing ever came; perhaps nobody could hear. She screamed and cried in orgasmic ecstasy until she finally did pass out. Though still, the being did not let her go that easily, it continued to eat her out again until she awoke, wanting her to suffer through another hour of orgasms, no matter how much it had to push her to endure it. Her cycle of consciousness and brutal pleasure left her powerless. Weakly she begged for it to stop, using every safe word and plea she could muster, though it was useless. Once she finally did pass out for the last time, it left her. She would sleep longer and deeper on this night than any other of the year, waking to know that she’d have a year to prepare herself for it once again… though there would never truly be any way to prepare herself. She’d never truly know what it was. All she knew was that, for whatever reason, she was the object of desire for the very embodiment of pleasure torture.
Content created by: PleasureTorture