Category: Erotic Horror

Halloween, non-human or supernatural posts.

Haunted House ‘Prison’

Forced to come again and again, she tries to hold back the tears of overstimulation for as long as possible.

Made to look like a prisoner being punished, she suffers throughout the night, restrained firmly on top of the Sybian vibrator. The worst is when the visitors of the haunted house get a chance to take over. As patrons of the haunted house walk by, the Sybian is set to a moderate vibration, keeping her slowly building towards the next climax for the guests to witness. Those who paid extra for the VIP pass, however, get the opportunity to take over the control of the Sybian. This is when it’s hardest for her to endure, when practically every guest spends the time turning it onto the maximum setting and leaving it that way for the duration.

Her screams for mercy as the vibrator devastates her oversensitive pussy blends in with the shrieks, bangs, wails and eerie sounds that bleed throughout the haunted house.

All she can do is endure the torment, unable to truly embrace the release of orgasmic joy and instead suffering the wrath of overstimulation. The Sybian drills her to the core; a sizzle of vibration turns into an unceasing earthquake in the hands of the guests.

As much as she tries to beg and plead for a moment of mercy, they view her as a prop in the show, an actress to entertain them.

Granted, she will be paid extra not to break character. She’s always been able to hold it together and earn her bonus. This year would be no different. Through her tears, as she orgasms beyond what she can handle, she pleads for mercy, begs them to stop and says that she’s innocent. She plays the part well.

When one of the staff ties a rope around her waist and hands it to one of the guests, she nearly breaks character as her clitoris suffers the full brunt of the Sybian. No longer able to try and wriggle away from the intense vibration, the passers-by are able to pull her forward and ensure that her swollen red clit is pummeled with stimulation.

Once she could finally breathe, once the crowds began to die down and the orgasms stopped blending into one another, she thought about the next night. She’d spend the next couple of nights abstaining from touching herself, wanting to ensure she didn’t become desensitized to the pleasure. She wanted to experience the complete pleasure of being absolutely at the mercy of the Sybian and the guests. It’s why she comes back every year, to experience it all over again.

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Laura volunteered for the Erotic Haunted House, wanting to make a little extra money as well as to have a little sexual fun. The thought of being watched by strangers while being teased and tantalised was so enticing. Yet while her screams at first were simply play acting for the guests passing by, after a little, they became genuine. The ‘demented nurses’ attending to her wanted to put on a show, so they made sure that they were going to give Laura forced orgasms in order to make sure those screams, those times when she was begging for it to stop, that it was too much, were all sincere.

Hearing this girl begging and pleading with the patrons walking by kept attracting attention and turned them on even more. The girls in control wanted to put on a good show. With Laura completely restrained and helpless, they were free to keep the powerful wand vibrators nestled against her swollen red pussy for as long as they desired. All Laura could do was pray that after they forced her to orgasm the next time, they’d let her rest. Maybe the next time… or perhaps the next.

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Perhaps if you’d have taken heed of the warnings, you wouldn’t be here. How reckless it was to traverse home alone, but it is too late now. She told you at the beginning that she hadn’t decided what to do with you, whether she’d devour your soul with your climax or whether to let you live and keep you as her sex toy. You believe her though, that while you might beg for the latter option, in time you’ll be wishing you chose the first. The way her mouth works you as if she’s known more about your pleasures than you could ever fathom yourself, keeping you shivering non-stop.

Every time your length slips between her lips, you let out a groan of pleasure, the likes of which has never escaped your mouth before. Her tongue wraps around and cradles the head of that pulsating cock as if to let it know that it will never escape. After merely thirty minutes, she has you whimpering in need to come, yet your moans and imploring words do not satiate her nearly as much as the pulse within every vein and each twitch of longing.

No matter how much you ask, she won’t answer just how long she’ll hold you on the brink. All she tells you is that when you do come, it will feel like every orgasm you have ever experienced in your life rolled into one.

She can feel every nerve-ending signal just how close you are, feel the moments when you need a little more friction or speed, even feel the times when you start to pray that she’ll let you fuck her. Perhaps if she had told you, however, that the saliva of her kind could keep you safely erect for hours, that she’d be able to keep sucking you for as long as she wanted, maybe you wouldn’t have been begging to come quite so fast.

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I want to play a game.

As close friends, you have both accused the other of stealing pleasure from one another. A boyfriend here, a sexual partner there. You have both been correct at times, yet now shall be the time to see who truly can steal away the most ecstasy. Perhaps then you’ll both see that what goes around can often come back twice as hard.

The Sybian vibrators nestled so intently against your pussies are wired to one another. When one of you comes, the others will increase in intensity. You have twenty minutes. If one of you screams, my associate will enter and make things even more difficult. Endure the twenty minutes without begging for it to stop, and you will both be free. Fail, and it will start all over again.

Good luck. I recommend you both try and hold back.

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Demon in the Ceiling

Sleep was the last bastion of relief. This was no longer the case.

You’d always feel my demonic presence in your bedroom. I would see you looking up and around so often, sensing me but never seeing me. I’d wrap those coils of lust around you daily, teasing you every time you entered and not letting go. The fetching attire you’d strip down to, fueling my desire to torment you further. Those racing fingertips, unable to bring yourself beyond the pinnacle. My prisoner of passion. So many times you writhed and begged, hoping and praying that I’d relent and show you some mercy and lift the curse. Little did you know that those whimpers and screams for mercy sealed your fate further, ensuring I’d make this place my home for many years.

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The Ropes

She knew it was hopeless, yet still she tried to reach down and stop the toy. Once again, just like it had done for the last 30 minutes, the ropes around her wrists and arms pulled her arms back up, trapping her further in place. The bright white sparks cracked along the ropes securing her waist and legs to the table as well as the vibrator. Perhaps if she had noticed these sparks on the toy and ropes earlier, she’d have been able to get away before they came to life and overpowered her.

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10/31

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.

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Halloween Season: Long Night

Tonight is going to be a long, long night.

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 sensation 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, 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, screamed, and cried out for more, yet still the presences that 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, the unbearable sensitivity of her soaking wet sex, and 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.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Harmony