Forced Orgasms – PleasureTorture

By now I’m sure you know that it’s about me showing you what every part of me can do to you.

By now, you know that I want you weeping in ecstasy.

This is why I wanted you to tell me when you couldn’t come any more from my cock. When you felt like you’d handled all of the orgasms you could take. I wanted to show you that my lips around your clitoris once again would rekindle that fire.

Now, as you come once again, I’ll have to keep going just to punish you for lying. To punish you for telling me that there was no more left.

This is exactly why I’m so patient, why I hold myself back. When I come… when you finish me off however you want to… it’s not just because I’m bursting with need. My orgasm happens because we’ve reached that point when you absolutely can’t handle any more. And not a moment before.

I want that intensity you felt, that sensation of being pushed to your limits, to be a foreshadowing of what you’d feel when I’m now buried inside you.

Surely you didn’t think I’d let your clitoris receive any rest, did you?

You know you deserve to be punished with ecstasy. Punishing you for how hard you make me throb while inside your body. Punishing you for how your moans and squeals make light up my fantasies. Punishing you for making me want to come so badly yet never wanting this situation to stop. Like a battle between our bodies, between how much pleasure you can take and how much I can give.

All the while, I see that look in your eyes that tells me everything I need to know.

‘More!’

I want you to know, while I devour your pussy, that everything within me is yearning to thrust inside you. My body constantly burns with the need to penetrate you, to feel your wetness clenching around my eager length.

That’s why I won’t stop. I want you to feel it too. I want to cherish your clitoris and feast on your sex until you feel that same need, until you desperately need me to fuck you, to penetrate you. Not because you truly understand how much my cock throbs to feel your softness, but because you know you couldn’t possibly handle any more, because you know my thrusts might give that delicate nub a little respite.

My finger feeling how much you clench when you come, my tongue feeling how swollen your clitoris gets, my head feeling how tightly your thighs squeeze when it gets too much… everything in me wants to make you feel so much more. It’s as if I want to punish your body more and more for how erotic you are.

Don’t worry, you’ll get what you need soon enough. You’ve just got to earn it, with every shudder, every moan and every climax.

The Angel Costume

“You’ve told us again and again that you were only dressing up as a sexy angel for Halloween. Continuing to scream it out again and again isn’t going to stop us from taking turns making you come in every manner possible. You’re in our domain now; Succubi and Incubi just can’t get enough of angels like yourself.”

The Monster Costume

Jane tried with all of her might to communicate with the scientists, yet they acted like they didn’t understand her. All she was to them was a test subject. As much as she strained, screamed and pulled hard to get away, they continued their experimentation on her.

It felt like days had passed since she’d woken up here. Having been dressed as a sexy monster with fangs and horns, Jane found herself suddenly strapped down on an examination table, stripped of the little clothing she had worn for the Halloween party.

The Schoolgirl Costume

It all seemed like some crazy, diabolical dream. Yet it happened. I know it happened. I felt it, every touch, every vivid sensation. I can almost still feel those palms, those fingers. I tried to wake up, tried to close my eyes and will myself back here in my bedroom. It never worked. I was stuck in that classroom until every university student had their turn with me.

I knew it would be a classroom, though. The schoolgirl outfit I’d worn for the Halloween party sealed my fate, I’m sure. I was walking home, and as soon as everything went dark, I knew I’d wake up in a classroom.

The Prisoner Costume

“Fifty!”

“Fifty… minutes?”

“No. Fifty orgasms. However long it takes.”

The Princess Costume

It was as if the mercenaries were a concoction of her deep desires. Every action they took seemed pulled directly from her fantasies.

Isabel had told her captors that she was only dressed in a Princess costume for Halloween. She even tried to play along, stating she’d give them anything in her kingdom if they let her go. Instead, they told her that the King and Queen of her rival kingdom had paid them each a princely sum to continue to torment her until they received word to stop.

At first, she was restrained against a chair, her legs wide open while only her tight-fitting white lingerie protected the last remnants of her modesty. They left her crown in place as if to mock her – a figure of royalty degraded to a whimpering wreck. With soft-tipped paintbrushes, they teased her thoroughly, making sure that no matter how often she wriggled her hips or pleaded for more, they never gave enough stimulation to topple her over into an orgasm.

The Spy Costume

Another demand for the codeword. Another wrong answer. Another orgasm extracted from her convulsing body.

No matter how much she wept from the intense pleasure, no matter how much she pleaded with her captors that she wasn’t a spy and that it was just a costume, Harmony never received a moment of rest.

Since returning from the Halloween party and waking up to find herself in this strange lair, Harmony had been tortured with orgasms relentlessly while being asked for the codeword. Never in her darkest nightmares could she have imagined the warnings had been about waking up in this type of situation. Whatever concoction her captors had given her meant that not only was she horrifyingly sensitive to stimulation, but it also ensured there was no refractory period or desensitisation.

The Heroine Costume

‘During the Halloween season, we advise extreme caution. There have been multiple reports of supernatural entities targeting victim based on their costume choices.’

Alicia wished she’d heeded the warnings. Instead, she ignored them, heading to the Halloween costume party dressed as a superheroine. On her way back from the party, she had lost consciousness and awoke to find herself trapped in the clutches of the VibroVolt gang as they had introduced themselves. They ignored her no matter how much she told them she had no idea who they were and that she had only been attending a costume party.

All they told her was that they would wreak havoc upon the city and intended to send a message to any other heroes that dared try to cross them. Before Alicia could question her captors or even contemplate whether she was merely trapped in some crazed fever dream, their hands made her gasp.