I and You

I

I stand here before you, watching you sway in the rhythm of your sexual longing. My words seem to still be echoing in your mind, telling you just how to masturbate yourself, making sure not to push you over the edge. I love thinking how it must feel, to realise that if simply masturbating to the brink and stopping could feel so intense, intense enough to start begging me for mercy, just how will it feel for you once I take over. I’ve seen you at your most intimate, I know just how far I can push you.

“Again,” I command as you beg once more, taken to the limit of what your own touch can provide. Your waist bounces rapidly to the strum of your fingers, making my cock tense for a moment as I imagine what it would be like to feel you right now. To feel how your pussy must be convulsing after being nearly granted the climax that has been tantalising it for some time now. It takes all my willpower to not leap towards your tensing body, enticed so much by the little trail of your pussy juice which drips from your tender apex. Watching your arousal build to a visible trail of pleasure has kept me yearning to do so much more to you, but patience always yields the sweetest results.

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Two Participants

The soothing hum of an air conditioner drifts through the office, filling the void of the girl’s hesitation at the question.“No, not for over two years,” she finally responds.
The interviewer makes a note. “Any encounters within this period?”

“…Yeah,” follows the pause.

“If you care to say so, roughly, how recently was this?”

A rustling of paperwork fills the moment’s silence as the young woman averts her gaze.

“It was – um, about …uh, 4 months ago.”

“Lastly, have you been looking for any further partners recently?” the interviewer asks softly, making sure not to offend or embarrass the gentle looking girl before him.

Lifting her deep blue eyes to his, she firmly states, “No, just enjoying my independence,” before giving a warm smile.

The interviewer smiles back and turns off the sound recorder on his desk which separates them both in the spacious, finely decorated office room. Laying down his notes methodically, he addresses the girl.

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The Torment of Denial

“Welcome Andrea my dear, please come in. I am Dr Wand; we have been expecting you!”

The voice was warm, welcoming, enough to put Andrea at ease. The apprehension of turning up to such an isolated clinic was nearly enough to have prevented the usually carefree girl from taking advantage of such an opportunity. A two week vacation to anywhere in the world just to try on a new prototype bra sounded almost too good to be true, but seeing the small group of researchers spread around the room, some obscured by computer screens, others looking up at her in the doorway, all dressed in white lab coats and looking busy, it all felt so much more legitimate.

‘Just remember…two weeks in the French Polynesia islands,’ she kept reminding herself, to make her go through with it.

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Laura’s Fetlife Meeting

A sharp intake of breath, the prickling shock of realization; Laura had regained consciousness as if torn from the comfort of sleep by the stark horror of reality. From the moment she’d regained her senses, her mind had been racing to make sense of the predicament she found herself in. Laura squinted, the light piercing her vision until she adjusted to the brightly lit room, a sight which both mystified and terrified her. The room was small and bare, surrounded with mirrors which seemed to shine upon the young girl who was bound in the middle of it. Arms hanging from the ceiling, her wrists cuffed together while her legs were spread apart, feet flat on the warm carpeted floor as her ankles had been cuffed and pulled wide apart, leaving little room for movement.

“Please, where am I?” Laura called to no response, struggling to raise her voice as her head swam, the effects of the drug still lingering. She looked at herself in disbelief, feeling so small as the room seemed to engulf her, every angle of her slender frame displayed. How many times she had fantasised about being in such a situation, almost admiring the view as she hung there, spread helplessly, pale blue bra and panties clinging to such a delicate, petite frame. ‘But not like this,’ she thought to herself, snapping back to the gravity of the situation, trying in vain to free herself.

Suddenly, a movement, the slow idle rattle of a turning doorknob, before one of the mirrors in a corner of the room swung forward to reveal an opening. Like the entrance to a house of mirrors, except all of these mirrors were displaying but one attraction. 

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