The Masseuse (Part III)

If they both knew how much they’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, they would never have denied themselves throughout November. It seems foolish now to have passed on the opportunity to masturbate when these skilled hands tormented them beyond reason.

The man’s entire body was already tingling with anticipation when he had first arrived; his mind was too focused on the pleasure to come to pay much attention to the second massage table in the room. He was asked to undress and lie on his back. The moment he stripped and laid down, the masseuse instantly returned and began caressing his upper body. His lower body remained covered by a towel. Even though the masseuse’s warm, oil-coated hands massaged only his shoulders and chest, his length instantly began to stir. The month of abstinence – two months total without a full orgasm – meant that all he could think of was the masseuse’s hands reaching under to stroke his cock. Just thinking of her stroking him, sucking him and riding him instantly sent a surge through to his manhood. He wanted her to whisper to him that she was going to fuck him, to impale herself on him, that knowing how desperate to come he was made her wet just thinking about, and how it aroused her to fuck men in this state.

Instead of fulfilling his fantasies right away, the masseuse simply continued to massage him wordlessly. Even the previous sexual audio, which filled the room with moans and cries of ecstasy, was absent.

Just as he began to wonder why things were so different and why the masseuse’s previous accomplice wasn’t present, another person entered the room, followed by the accomplice.

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The Masseuse (Her November)

(His November)

Another person’s fingertips trailing over her body is all she craved. She’d happily give up a month of masturbation in order to feel the sensations she had enjoyed at the massage parlour. The prospect of submitting to the stimulation in that way, with every touch and every caress focused solely on her, was too enticing to pass up.

The ruined orgasm played on her mind throughout November. For the first couple of weeks, she focused on the frustration, how her pussy convulsed in longing for so much more and how the sense of emptiness that the ruined orgasm brought remained with her. She wanted those cruel fingertips back where they were, teasing her clitoris and penetrating her intensely, squeezing around them as if it were her body pleading for them not to stop fucking her.

For the last couple of weeks in November, she instead focused on the joy that even the ruined orgasm brought. The sensation of pleasure lifted to the surface, and the jolts of ecstasy that slipped through the cracks of frustration.

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The Masseuse (His November)

The Masseuse and The Masseuse Part II

One month, that’s all it would be. He thought it would be difficult, he never expected it would be hellish.

It would have been so much easier, he thought, if his last orgasm was at least fulfilling, at least truly enjoyable. Instead, the masseuse had ended with a ruined orgasm, dashing hopes of a pleasurable climax before sending him away with the instruction to go a month of denial before returning. All he needed to do was get through November, and finally he assumed he’d get the orgasmic release he needed.

He longed for the massage table, to feel the masseuse and her apprentice’s warm, feminine hands caress his naked body. It was extremely difficult to abstain from touching himself at night when that was all he could picture. The way their hands coated him all over, how soft their palms felt against his throbbing member, how teasing their fingertips were each time it twitched.

Even work was difficult; as the days turned into weeks, it became harder to think about anything other than sex. Every titillating image or suggestive comment turned his mind to mush. It was as if, within the first week, he realised just how much free time he had, even at work, free time which led to more fantasies churning in his mind. While the urge to masturbate at night wasn’t as strong as expected, the urge to watch porn was greater than ever. He avoided it to ensure he wouldn’t be tempted. He wanted to last the entire month.

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The Masseuse (Part II)

(Part I)

If she knew how much she’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, she’d have never denied herself for so long.

She had often enjoyed the sensuality of her monthly full-body massage. While she always felt that her masseuse lingered on her inner thighs more than necessary, there was nothing overtly sexual about the experience. What was apparent, however, was that after every massage, she had a great need to masturbate once she returned home. She always abstained from playing with herself for a few days before her massage, enjoying the heightened sensitivity and where her imagination led her following the massage. This time she had decided to test herself and abstain for the entire month. Having not touched herself intimately between her last massage and this one, she was already in a hyper-sexual state of mind before even lying down on the table.

Covered in only a towel, she was aware of how little her body was concealed from the two women who walked into the room. The masseuse and her female accomplice -introduced as a trainee – began massaging her back. The second woman’s wonderfully soft, warm hands ran across her shoulders while the masseuse focused on her legs. Folding the towel down inch by inch, the trainee was free to press along more of her back. It would have had her imagination on fire to have been focusing on how this newcomer’s fingertips were grazing so close to the sides of her breasts, squished against the padded table. What instead drew her attention was how the masseuse’s hands were gliding up her legs so brazenly. The masseuse’s hands slid from feet to ankles to upper thighs and buttocks in one direct motion, instantly pushing the towel up so that it barely concealed her intimacy. A mixture of shyness and arousal coursed through the silent woman. Feeling a little cool air between her legs, she closed them, knowing that the masseuse positioned at the foot of the massage table would be able to sneak a peek at her privacy if so inclined. She was unable to conceal a gasp as the masseuse suddenly gripped her ankles and pulled her legs back apart.

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The Masseuse

If he knew how much he’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, he’d have never denied himself for so long.

Having abstained from masturbation, he had decided to book a massage to unwind with his long-time masseuse, though never had he expected it to become so sensual. She would massage his body with the most tender touches, her hands so attentive as they caressed his back, arms and shoulders before moving to his legs. When she had done this before, there was only the slightest hint of sexuality, the lightest touch a little closer under the towel than he’d expected. This time, however, it was as if she knew that he had abstained for weeks and wanted him to suffer.

He wasn’t surprised when he turned up and found the masseuse with a female accomplice; often, the pair massaged him together. What did surprise him, however, was that the trainee focused only on his upper body while his masseuse concentrated only on his lower body. It was clear right from the beginning that she intended to make life as difficult as possible, to set his imagination alight. Instantly she brushed her hands up under the towel, sweeping along his buttocks, then his inner thighs, just enough to have his mind’s eye focused on his manhood which she was so close to. Her hands crept further and further upwards with every movement as she stroked along his upper legs.

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The November Study

Vicky had intended to see how long she could last without masturbating, a personal challenge to stave off her own desires, so when her university friends had proposed the idea, she was entirely on board: to go the month of November without allowing herself any sexual release. If only she knew quite what she was in for.

Being very sensitive to stimulation, Vicky had often found it difficult to hold back from coming. Even with several friends with benefits at her university who she hooked up with regularly, she still found the most comfort in her private moments of masturbation, which were numerous throughout the week. The prospect of holding off for a week or two seemed daunting yet rather erotic, having to endure an entire month sounded like nothing more than pure torture. She liked the idea of such a challenge.

Her friends had fit her with a special heart rate monitor on both wrists, sealed in order to ensure she couldn’t remove either without them knowing. The devices would be able to alert for any spikes in heart rate along with being able to map out hand movement below waist level, ensuring they’d know within the month if she masturbated to orgasm. Vicky however had no intention of trying to cheat, she wanted to last.

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Aerith’s Encounter

“Please! Please let me come. I can’t take it anymore.”

If only her pleas could bring any mercy or respite.

Aerith had been warned about venturing off alone. She wasn’t scared of Shinra however, and felt as if there was little that could be hazardous in the flower gardens. How wrong she was; there were other things besides Shinra that had taken an interest in this magically powerful Cetra.

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Telepath C23P: The Interrogation

How will you cope as you try and withstand the cruel torments of The Facility? Try to hold out as the threat of teasing, edging, orgasm denial, and more await you.

Click to begin the choose-your-path story

Content created by: PleasureTorture

The Writer’s Pen

“Good girl, don’t stop – keep rubbing that throbbing clit for me. I want to just jump through the monitor and torture you with my own fingertips.” 

“Please!! It’s too much, I need to come… I neeeeeed to come. Fuck I can’t hold it!” 

“Don’t you dare come or I’ll ruin your next 5 orgasms in a row.” 

“Pleeeeeease!!!” 

“Stop. Just circle it for 10 seconds. No, begging isn’t going to help. How badly do you need to come?” 

“Oh God… fuck. OH GOD. More than… I can barely talk. More than anything. I’ve been desperate for days. I’m begging you to let me come. Please. My pussy can’t take it anymore.” 

“Get close again. Just think of my mouth torturing you right now, my tongue slipping back and forth over your mound, flicking your twitching little clit until your hips are shaking.” 

“PLEEEEASE! My hips are already shaking. I need to… I’m going to-“

“-Stop. Hands away. Good girl, I love seeing your hips rocking in need. If you travel and visit me, perhaps I’ll be able to give your pussy what it needs most. Just imagine me fingerfucking you hard right now while sucking your clit mercilessly.” 

“Can I please touch it? Just the thought alone nearly has me on edge.” 

“No… that’s enough. You’ll have to wait.” 

“Oh no please please please. That’s too cruel. It’s been two weeks. I’m desperate. I just HAVE to come.” 

“No. Not today. Suffer with need until we next can play. I have to continue writing more for today.”  

“One day you’ll know just how it feels,” she growled in warning, though was met only by a cold laugh from the one who had brought so much pleasure along with so much frustration.  

With that, the writer ended the webcam session, putting an end to any hope for her to receive the relief she desperately needed. Another follower, another victim, whom he had brought to a knife edge, left dancing in his web of cruel ecstasy.  

You reap what you sow. 

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