The Ghost Costume

The ghost outfit that Linda had worn for the Halloween party had long been removed, yet she’d have given anything for them to have stripped her of her lingerie by now.

It had been hours. Hours of being teased by the faintest of touches. Hours of the softest, most delicate touches along every inch of her body.

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The Nurse Costume

Grace couldn’t handle any more, yet there were no signs of them stopping.

She had worn her sexy nurse outfit for a few years now, having greatly enjoyed adding different styles of blood effects to nurse attire to give a deranged, scarier impression. This year, it had looked like an evil nurse from an insane asylum. Having gone with the same theme for years, she didn’t think there’d be any danger at all regarding the Halloween costume warnings.

When she woke up, having returned to her home from the Halloween party, she had found herself restrained to a hospital bed. Throughout the hours and hours of her ordeal, Grace was never once spoken. The doctors around her, who all seemed to glow in an almost ghostly manner, only talked amongst themselves. They spoke about her as if she were a patient and did not wish to address her directly. 

For the first hour, she had wondered if they’d administered some kind of powerful aphrodisiac, as she was instantly more aroused than she’d ever been in her life. In the following hours, she did not care at all what was happening – all she cared about was the unfulfilled desire that burned through her like wildfire. As the hours passed, Grace wouldn’t even wonder why she never grew thirsty or needed any rest or sleep. All Grace wondered about for the hours and hours that passed was why she was brought to the edge repeatedly without any sign that the mercy of orgasm would be granted.

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The Cowboy Costume

Daniel had laughed off the warnings, thinking a simple cowboy costume wouldn’t cause the slightest bit of concern.

Now, he found himself helplessly restrained and near hysterical with need.

When he had been walking home from the Halloween party, he was a little disappointed to have not hooked up with anyone but was still riding the buzz from a good night and several drinks. Without any warning or transition, a cloud of darkness overcame him until suddenly he was lying on his back, entirely naked and achingly erect.

He looked around what appeared to be a barn, though a gorgeous woman wearing the same hat he’d worn with his cowboy outfit caught his attention and held it. The hat was the only thing she wore, making his cock pulse a little more. He didn’t understand why he was so unbelievably aroused, given his confusion, yet all he could focus on was her sensuous curves and the fact that she was looking at him hungrily. Her sultry smile made Daniel burn with desire, as too did her warm, southern tone.  

“Well, howdy there, cowboy. I was wonderin’ when you’d finally wake up. Looks like you’re rarin’ to go, and I gotta say, it’s lookin’ mighty fine. But I reckon I shouldn’t hog all the fun for myself, now should I?”

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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.

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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.

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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.

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You play with yourself at the thought of what those warnings could mean – touching and teasing while thinking of being dressed in that skin-tight outfit. Even if nothing came of the warnings – if no entity apprehended you in order to sexually torment you just like in your fantasies – the thought of what others would want to do to you arouses you.

You imagine the material of your costume clinging so tightly against your body, wondering whether you’ll wear anything under it. You picture how it will look to others, seeing those delicate curves hugged by the material like a second skin. You know that they’d be looking at you, wanting to touch you, knowing that against the material, you’d feel their fingertips almost the same way against the outfit as you feel right now.

There are so many scenarios you could picture yourself in as you bring yourself to climax. Being apprehended by whatever the warnings are about, or perhaps feeling the touch of another, having seduced someone at the Halloween party. Or perhaps, simply returning to your bed afterwards and masturbating while in the outfit. Every situation turns you on; you want to spend the whole night vividly imagining each of them. Yet, with how sensitive and aroused you are, it won’t take long until you can’t contain the pleasure any more.

The strength of your fantasies will always dictate the strength of your orgasm.

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“Sir! As the footage shows, the faction had caught and imprisoned our agent three days ago. Communication with her had ceased at approximately 1600 hours. The footage we have been receiving indicates that they have been continuing their interrogations as recently as ten minutes ago today. The footage has been coming in every thirty minutes. There seem to be thirty-minute intervals every ninety minutes, indicating breaks in their administration of torture, before they begin once again.”

“At what time did they begin torturing her?”

“When they captured her three days ago, the video footage we received indicates they began at 1700 hours, sir.

Currently, we are unable to pinpoint their location and have no further information.”

“Damn it. She’s truly on her own. God, have mercy on her. Has there been any change in the footage throughout the ordeal?”

“No, Sir. The same two women have been continuously tormenting our agent. It has been the same continuous process. They have been using vibrators to bring our agent to the edge of orgasm repeatedly, stopping every time she has been close. They appear to take it in turns; as soon as one of them has brought our agent to the edge of orgasm, they switch around.

Earlier footage shows our agent screaming out for us to find her. As the footage continued, it changed from her screaming for us to screaming out for anyone to help her to then screaming out for mercy from the assailants. However, nothing had changed their pattern or methods of torture throughout the three days.”

“What pattern?”

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I know how it feels, being in your position, being restrained and helpless. How it lets you focus on the overwhelming sensations between your legs, that build-up which consumes you, knowing that release in every sense is at my discretion.

I understand you want to see me riding you, yet I also know that the fantasy in your mind adds another layer of torment, imagining the smile as I look down and see the utter desperation your mouth tries to convey.

I know that you want me to be as cruel as possible, to ensure that every motion of my body feels destined to prolong your pleasure until you feel like mercy is beyond reach, until you feel like even begging me would simply elicit laughter, the kind of laughter that sends a shiver of erotic longing through your spine.

What I don’t understand, however, is just how it feels to need to thrust upwards, to feel several inches of your body literally throbbing and pulsating with the need to drive deeper. I can’t comprehend the tightness and yearning within those balls, that external, gorgeous masculinity, to need to release the pent-up tide of orgasm. I don’t know how it feels to have this heat, this softness, this wetness, clenching around those aching inches slip up and down while fighting to hold back that white-hot gush.

That’s what makes it so much more erotic. I can imagine and understand what you feel, but I don’t truly know how your cock feels right now – yet I’m still going to prolong that sensual agony for as long as possible. That’s what keeps my body burning with arousal and what keeps me coming again and again, knowing that my joy is what makes your cock suffer just that little bit more.

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