GIFs/Caption – Page 3 – PleasureTorture

…And Repeat

…And again, you moan in need. That familiar, euphoric surge emanates from between your legs through your very core as the vibrator once again presses to you. The pleasure becomes addictive, constantly circulating as you fantasise about every time before, about how intense it had been.

The same scenarios in your imagination present themselves, yet they become a little more intense than last. The gentle touches become firmer caresses, and the soft strokes become harder pinches.

The look of the device itself adds to the tremors within you. It is so sleek yet powerful, designed solely to press against your intimacy and bring you to the heights of human pleasure. Made to elicit the most extreme joy and ensure you absolutely scream out in ecstasy. You press it harder to yourself, the pulsating vibrations drilling deeper. You remember how intense it was last time. As your hips buck and your legs shake, you wonder if this will be the same or even more extreme.

Good girl. Take it until those hips are shuddering from the ecstasy.

It doesn’t matter whether you come. All that matters is that you adore every second of having me explore you.

We’ll sit outside, and I’ll slather you with oil. I’ll strip you and let you bask in being so exposed while out in nature.

I’ll massage you, I’ll expose you, I’ll explore you.

As I press my fingers up against that firmer little patch inside you, pushing upward and rubbing it directly, I don’t care whether you squirt. I just want you to let yourself go and give in to the sensations wreaking havoc within you.

I know that what makes you shiver in pleasure the most is that, under the sunlight, with me exploring you so intimately, as I delve so deeply, there is absolutely nothing left to hide. Exposed in every way.

It’s all about wanting to pleasure you until there is no more pleasure left for you to take.

Ruined

She found herself in hell. It was beyond torture at this point. No matter how much she cried and begged and screamed, he wouldn’t give her what she needed. What should have been a heavenly sensation was constantly being turned into a hellish ordeal as the convulsion of orgasm tore through her without the warmth of fulfilment. Again and again, ruined orgasms were thrust upon her.

Even when she wasn’t tied up, she didn’t try to fight back at first. She thought she might have been able to handle it better. She also hadn’t expected him to continue doing it to her.

She hoped that soon enough, the warmth of her pussy and the way it softly enveloped his cock would entice him to stay inside and continue thrusting. She soon prayed that the eroticism of her movements and the way that she moaned and squealed as she came would make him falter. He didn’t.

Every time he thrust inside and brought her to the pinnacle, he stopped right as she came, letting his cock slide out, watching as she shivered and winced, the scald of a ruined orgasm wreaking havoc on her. It left nothing but a dull ache and a need for something so much more. He fucked her to that point repeatedly and continued to stop, ensuring she hit that brick wall again and again.

Even as she tried to grind against him, to ensure he felt how wonderful it would be to remain inside her, he still withdrew, leaving her to rub helplessly against his tip. It did nothing to quell the need. Her pussy felt as if it were constantly convulsing in desperation for more penetration, for more friction, for anything.

Her body hurt with longing, her pussy swollen, a raw, red wound of unfathomable sensations. When he gripped her wrists and fitted those familiar cuffs on the headboard to them, he reminded her.

“Don’t forget… this is what you wanted. Isn’t it? You couldn’t handle the forced orgasms last time we played. You were begging me not to make you come any more. You said to me, ‘Please don’t make me come more. I can’t stand it.’ Well, this time, I won’t make you endure forced orgasms. You kept begging me to stop fucking you. You kept crying when I continued to thrust inside your gorgeous pussy while you were coming, screaming out that it was too intense for you.”

She’d have given anything to feel his cock continue to thrust while she hit her orgasm. Even if he kept going when it was too sensitive, it would have been better than this.

Each time he withdrew, he simply watched as her hips rocked and pushed up for more, her body writhing in frustration. She pulled desperately against the cuffs and wept in her ruined orgasm agony. It didn’t stop anything.

Repeatedly he kept fucking her and stopping before admiring his work, her torment. He was so aroused watching the display. It was difficult not to continue feeling her silky soft walls clenching around his manhood and to have to pull out even as he was nearing his moment. He gladly suffered. The more torment he inflicted, the more she moaned and cried out, the more he pulsed and throbbed. It made it even worse for her each time, having to feel how swollen and stiff he was as he entered her each time.

She would have preferred to have been denied than endure this. To have her orgasms ruined every single time, repeatedly and in succession, without mercy, was unbearable. Pleasure being used as a cruel torture. It was worse to see the enjoyment on his face that her suffering brought him – such a sadistic delight in constantly ruining her orgasms.

Relentlessly, what should have been a gush of heat and relief, a tight ball erupting and unravelling, was replaced with an emptiness that left the ball still tightly wound. An electric shock of sensation with no outlet, no spiral of bliss, just sensation without form. Pleasure without relief.

No matter how often she fantasised about this scenario, it never made it easier to endure. Soon enough, her pussy would become too desensitised to handle any more. She wasn’t expecting, however, that when this did occur, he’d simply go down on her and work her clitoris with his mouth. Repeatedly he’d suck her clitoris and stop every time her hips thrust upwards in climax. Not once, even from oral, would she receive the mercy of a full orgasm. It would continue until she could not come any more.

Maybe next time, he’d let her choose: forced orgasms or ruined orgasms. Right now, he knew she’d choose anything other than another ruined orgasm… if only she had a choice.

Anticipation: that tantalising, delicate tension in the air, the heartbeat fluttering in every motion, the prickling heat that first marks the inferno to soon engulf.

Anticipation is sexuality at its most primal, the moments before the fantasy of imagination meets the potency of reality.

A whisper of what could be. Until you finally feel its touch.

When you’re between my thighs, no matter how much I shiver, shake and clench, no matter how tightly I squeeze your head or how hard my hands push against you, do not stop doing exactly what you are doing to me.

It isn’t just the actions themselves that make me melt; it’s looking down and seeing you so entirely absorbed in what you’re doing, so entirely absorbed in my pleasure, that makes me never want to try and stop you, no matter how intense it becomes.

Blindfold

Perhaps behind the blindfold, you imagine being on display, many surrounding you, so many hands and mouths teasing you as you sit helplessly.

Maybe you’re thinking of your latest fantasy while restrained, free within the confines of your mind to indulge in thoughts of being penetrated and explored so fiercely and thoroughly.

Feeling the restraints around your wrists and ankles, holding you in place, allows you to fantasise about being devoured while so confined. Fantasising about pulling on those cuffs while that mouth torments you so wonderfully, knowing it won’t stop no matter how much you strain and writhe.

You could even be thinking of being entirely untouched while others watch, simply basking in your exhibitionist fantasies as the same powerful vibration constantly chips away at your resolve. It is constantly just a little too much, yet you never want to give in. You never truly want it to stop, and the restraints help ensure you can’t out an end to it.

Or maybe you’re imagining being alone, no one else around, simply exploring yourself and letting the toy be the only thing between you and ecstasy. Your fantasies being fueled by the needs of your body, your need to traverse the heights of ecsatsy.

No matter what is running through your mind behind the blindfold, you’ll need to get used to the quivering, the orgasmic convulsion and the physicality of straining hard against those restraints while the vibrator stays in place. Regardless of what is on your mind, my goal is to compete with your imagination, and show you that me in reality wants to be far crueller to your pussy than whatever your imagination concocts.

It doesn’t matter how much you beg and scream or how much you say ‘please!’

It’s not about how much you can take, or if you can take any more at all.

It’s all about how much more I’m going to make you take.

It is not simply a want or merely a desire. It is absolutely a need. The need to feel you at your limit, to know that you are experiencing pleasure that your mind craves yet your body struggles to handle.

The need to feel your sensitive pussy clench as your delicate body succumbs to the inevitable. The need to hold you back and make sure you fully endure it, to prevent you from protecting your hypersensitive clitoris from what you truly crave. The need to feel you trying to make me stop, yet never actually trying to get away.

The necessity to never stop hearing you moan and scream in ecstasy, to feel you shudder and shake in overstimulation. A need, an addiction, an obsession with your pleasure.

I need it just as much as you do.

Comfort, security, warmth, relaxation… these are some of the most important aspects to ensure the most wonderful masturbation and pleasure. Comfort must be your reality.

However, in your fantasies, in your erotic imagination, you can concoct the most wicked and intense scenarios. When you next touch and tease yourself, you can imagine the helplessness, the lack of control. Restrained and unable to escape, unable to cry out or give any word or signal for it to cease. Trapped and helpless to do anything other than whimper, moan and cry in torturous ecstasy.

The vibrator pressed to your intimacy, unforgiving and unstoppable. Forced to endure orgasms that melt your body and sap your will. There is no mercy. There is no escape. The orgasms continue far beyond your ability to cope with them, far beyond your capability to endure the assault of brutal pleasure. Perhaps your fantasy pushes you further, not letting your fantasy self experience the relief of your sex becoming desensitised and numb to the vibrations. Instead, you imagine it going on and on until you see yourself passing out repeatedly from the cruel ordeal, always waking to the unending barrage of sensations drilling your body and punishing your clit.

Your reality is heavenly. Your fantasy is hellish.

You won’t feel any less comfort, yet you’ll feel so much more intensity.

As much as you try to match the pleasure of your fantasy in reality, you’ll always fail. Yet, the attempt will always be wonderful.