"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".
Category: Erotic Horror
Halloween, non-human or supernatural posts.
Sometimes you just want to feel hands all over you, caressing and fondling every inch of your gorgeous, supple body; sometimes your desire is so intense you can almost feel them.
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.
Waking in the brightly lit cell, she had no idea where she was or how she had came to be here. An alien abduction? Kidnapped by scientists? There was no telling, all she could recall was last being in her room masturbating, having brought herself to the edge multiple times before finally about to give in to her overflowing need, suddenly everything went black: then she was here, body still glowing with the unfulfilled promise of release.
She was only half conscious of the surroundings, feeling lost in a hazy limbo, unable to even fully notice the mechanical tendrils that were wrapping themselves around her limbs. Only when the creeping tentacles crawled down within her underwear did she seem to regain herself, though it was too late to do anything about it; now the unknown tendrils were trapped within the confines of the material and against her delicate sex.
“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.
Carly had been so turned on by hearing the stories of “the trapped man” and how people were able to walk by and watch this man being tormented relentlessly. She had pictured him, being restrained and stroked to the edge of orgasm repeatedly, while she wrote down ‘voyeurism’ on the waiver form under what she fantasised about most.
Having been separated from her group, she was relieved to be approached by one of the performers. Carly felt a surge of arousal course through her as the woman wordlessly attached restraints to her wrists and ankles. When she soon felt hands jut out from the wall behind her and begin caressing her, she realised that this was just how the story she had heard played out; the thought of taking his place, to be teased to the brink of climax while others simply walked by and watched, set her body alight. The woman stayed and aided the hands in fondling her, the touches becoming more and more intimate. As she became more aroused, Carly noticed that a lot more people were walking by than she had seen previously in the Haunted House. At first she looked out to see if any of her friends were among these people, then she assumed that these extra people may all be part of the scenario, designed to indulge her voyeuristic fantasies even more. Even if her friends had appeared however, by the time the hands started to masturbate her, she wouldn’t have even noticed. The culmination of being so openly on display and at the mercy of these dedicated touches were enough to quickly bring Carly to the brink of orgasm: just as quickly however it was snatched away.
Being too impatient to frustrate herself during masturbation, Carly had never teased herself much during her private moments. Being brought to the edge like this was such a new sensation and it took its toll immediately. After merely the first time those fingers all pulled away, she begged them to finish her off. She wanted to come in front of all the people walking by, yet when the hands continued this sequence a couple more times, denying her the release she craved, she understood that the story she had heard of “the trapped man” was something which they wanted her to fully experience. She was too focused on her need to orgasm to ponder how they could have possibly known that she had heard of the story before.
The woman overseeing her torment did not utter a word in response to her pleas for them to stop and just let her come. Those cruel fingers simply worked her slick, sensitive pussy to a frenzy time and time again. Somehow the hands knew just how to touch her, working her body in exactly the same way she would when playing with herself. Having always let herself come as soon as possible, being made to endure this constant stop start method of stimulation was too much to handle. After 20 minutes of having her orgasm withheld, she began screaming out for the passers-by to help her come. They ignored her pleas, many simply stopping for a while to watch her sweet suffering. Never had Carly ever thought that her own pleasure could be used to torment her in this way.
Once she would finally be given her moment of release, she’d have to endure the same wicked stimulation all over again from the start.
“Let’s try that again shall we?” said the woman at last.
Knowing how long they had kept her in that state of need, and how merciless they were at teasing her to the brink time and time again, the thought of enduring it further was unbearable.
Laying him down on the table was easy once the zombie nurses whispered to him that he was soon to experience the delights he had written down on the haunted house waiver. The thought of having his cock teased without him being able to stop it aroused him greatly. Once they laid him face down, his cock slipping through a hole in the table, he sensed what was to come, particularly when they strapped the cuffs around his waist, wrists and ankles to hold him helplessly in place.
David still had no idea where his friends were even after spending the last ten minutes searching for them through the maze of pitch black corridors. He had welcomed the clutches of the performers once they found him, particularly once they started to strip him, though they never told him where the others were no matter how much he quizzed them. Just as he felt something touch his exposed manhood, speakers began to play the moans and screams of the friends who had vanished. Those sounds alone aided the slight touches in stiffening his sensitive length.
Just remember, as you walk through the Haunted House, that even though the screams may fade out as you gain some distance, for her it does not stop. Her screams linger throughout the night, her convulsions of ecstasy and orgasmic squeals will not end until the appetite of this wicked place have been sated. Go ahead and walk along… run if you must; just know that it may be you crying out in tortured bliss soon enough.
ToysMultiple-Orgasms Bondage. Stephanie couldn’t decide what fantasy turned her on the most, the waiver form showing clearly that she had many desires on her mind. The Haunted House did not want to deny her any satisfaction.
When Stephanie and the remaining companions entered a room full of smoke, they all started to become drowsy.
“We need to get out of here,” yelled one of her friends.
As they all began to sprint through the room, a case of the blind following the blind as they aimlessly pressed onward, Stephanie became sluggish and fell behind, succumbing the most to the effects of the smoke which seemed to possess the quality of sleeping gas. Once the rest of the group exited the room, only just about making it out before giving in to unconsciousness, they realised Stephanie was gone. They did not dare venture back, leaving the sleeping girl to whatever fate the haunted house had in store for her.
As Olivia ventured deeper into the haunted house, she noticed that it seemed to start brimming with plant-life, gorgeous flowers that seemed to breathe a new lease of life into what had been such a dark, claustrophobic setting. It was only when she entered a large, garden-like open space that she realised that she had unknowingly been separated from her friends. Before she had time to call back out to them, a group dressed as zombies sprang forth from the surrounding foliage and apprehended her. She had no time to react or even cry out for help as she was stripped naked and thrust onto a table at the centre of the thriving garden. The moment she was held down on it, she realised that the garden itself wasn’t simply a prop, it was pulsating with life; the greenery seemed to undulate as if breathing in and out. The movement above, with the rhythmic churning of branches and petals, almost hypnotised the naked girl for a moment, though the realisation that the hands were no longer what kept her held down brought her back to reality.