Consider it revenge. How your body, your lingerie, ignites the imagination, so too does this brush. I know you want that firm touch, that deep penetration. Yet, as much as you may hope for fingertips to press against or a mouth to embrace tightly or a cock to thrust intently, instead, you will endure the slow torment of these soft bristles. What the sight of you makes me fantasise about, I want to make you fantasise about tenfold.

If you’re a good girl and hold your hips still, you’ll feel the brush focusing directly on that deliciously swollen clitoris. Until I think you’re ready for that mercy, however, you’ll feel those soft bristles, like feather tips, gliding gently up and down your mound and along your juicy, wet pussy lips. The brush has become slightly wet from sinking along your folds and tantalising your desperate entrance. I can see how the trail glistens against the smooth skin of your wonderful, plump little mound, so elevated with arousal.

Behind the blindfold and within the restraints, you may be imagining all manner of tongues flicking against your clit. Maybe you’re thinking of fingers or stiff lengths slipping up and down at the ready to slide inside and fuck you intensely. Yet, for now, you’ll need to relax as much as you can, as you’ll be enduring the fluttering motions of this brush for a long, long time.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Model: Nova Gold

I wanted him to restrain me and force me to come more than I’d ever experienced, more than I could ever make myself come.

I wanted to feel that vibrator grind even harder against my clit when I told him to stop, to feel that vibration punishing my pussy when I said it was too much.

I wanted to beg for mercy the way I imagine it when I’m masturbating. I just didn’t realise how intense it would be after the first time I came, how my body would be turning on itself for allowing it to endure this, the battle between what my body can handle and what my mind craves.

It was only seconds after asking him to please let me come that the words ‘please stop’ escaped my lips. With every orgasm, I’d ask it again, hoping that the words would take new meaning to convey what my tensed muscles and trembling limbs could not. I want him to feel for a second what he’s doing to me, to understand what I’m going through, whether that would make him a little merciful. To feel such pleasure that surpasses that moment of devastation and veers into agony.  

But the part that resides deep within, the part that imagined this while I masturbated and edged myself to the fantasy, that part wants it never to end.

Continue reading

Haunted House ‘Touch Pass’

Holly wanted to experience the ‘touching’ option of the haunted house, opting to pay a little more than the average VIP option to experience whatever touching elements this erotic haunted house provided.

For much of the venture into the haunted house, she was a little disappointed in the experience. She thought the displays and props were fantastic and was blown away by how realistic the sexual scenes looked, with actors and actresses being sexually teased and tormented so realistically. However, the disappointment came from how underwhelming the ‘touching’ aspect of her experience was. While venturing through the erotic haunted house, witnessing many sexual scenes and jump scares,  all Holly received were a few touches to the shoulder and back – nothing that would shock or perhaps even arouse her.

At least she still enjoyed how much effort had been put into the costumes and set design. Watching some scenes involving men’s throbbing cocks being teased by zombie nurses, women being forced to orgasm in medical facilities and prisons and hearing the mixture of ghostly wails and screams of ecstasy was enough to arouse her still.

When she was near the end, she finally received what she had hoped for when she purchased the ‘touching allowed’ ticket.

Multiple actors in the ‘mental ward’ area of the haunted house who had jumped out at her suddenly grabbed her and took her off the path and away from any other patrons.

Feeling so many hands tearing the clothes from her body, Holly was ecstatic to finally receive the attention she’d hoped for in the haunted house. As much as she tried to feign fear, trying to blend in with the horror aesthetic and the sounds of ghoulish groans and screams in the background, she still couldn’t contain her grin of excitement as she was entirely stripped and restrained, strapped to some kind of bondage chair.

Already so wet with arousal from the lingering touches, it turned her on even more to realise that she was restrained within a room she herself had passed by as one of the patrons. Her eyes lit up with excitement to see others walking by and looking into the room she was in; she had been turned into part of the attraction. Her arousal to be an exhibition was heightened when one of the asylum ‘lunatics’ stood in front of her with a throbbing erection aimed between her thighs.

With an enthusiastic nod to him, she felt him slip within her waiting sex, clenching him tightly as he thrust intently within. Playing the part well, he fucked her with manic intensity. The other cast members left the room, leaving the pair alone. He wordlessly fucked her, her moans and eventual screams, as she built towards a pinnacle, blended seamlessly with the wails and screams permeating the surroundings. What helped bring her to the brink fastest was the fact that the man kept having to slow down occasionally to prevent himself from coming. Knowing that her body was turning him on so much (along with passers-by) and that her soft, wet pussy was too much for his aching length to handle was such an erotic boost for her.  

When she came, her pussy convulsing around him, she closed her eyes to revel in the ecstasy, to contain it within and indulge in the self-contained majesty of bliss. Once she tried to close her legs instinctively, finding that the restraints would give her no ability to defend her sensitive pussy, she realised that the man wanted to ensure her screams were as authentic as possible. The moment she came down from her pinnacle, the man withdrew and knelt down to devour her pussy like the ravenous beast he was playing.

Even as she strained and writhed and cried out that her pussy was overly sensitive now that she’d climaxed, he wouldn’t stop. He continued to suck and lick and eat her out as if his life depended on it, without acknowledging her. The constant attention to her swollen clitoris and the eyes gazing through the bars at her naked body made sure that even through the intensity of sensations, Holly was still brought to orgasm. It was as if simply thinking about what the guests could see made Holly’s body respond in a way to show off every facet of her sexuality. She came every few minutes as the tongue lashed away at her, thinking about those people seeing her pussy being devoured and how her body jerked while trying to get away from the overstimulation.

The orgasms continued to take her breath away. She was barely able to scream out for mercy, yet wondered if her pleas for a moment of rest could be heard over the sounds throughout the speakers of the haunted house. The thought that he could hear her and simply wasn’t stopping made her come even harder, hard enough to cause her to see stars.

She realised, as she bucked and grinded against his mouth, her pussy juices dripping down his chin, which pressed hard against her sopping wet slit, that she was entirely part of the attraction now. It wouldn’t be until another hour that the haunted house would be closing. She wondered if she’d have to endure his eager mouth and the forced orgasms it thrust upon her for the entire duration. As she pulled uselessly against the restraints, part of her hoped so.

Continue reading Haunted House ‘Touch Pass’

Haunted House ‘Prison’

Forced to come again and again, she tries to hold back the tears of overstimulation for as long as possible.

Made to look like a prisoner being punished, she suffers throughout the night, restrained firmly on top of the Sybian vibrator. The worst is when the visitors of the haunted house get a chance to take over. As patrons of the haunted house walk by, the Sybian is set to a moderate vibration, keeping her slowly building towards the next climax for the guests to witness. Those who paid extra for the VIP pass, however, get the opportunity to take over the control of the Sybian. This is when it’s hardest for her to endure, when practically every guest spends the time turning it onto the maximum setting and leaving it that way for the duration.

Her screams for mercy as the vibrator devastates her oversensitive pussy blends in with the shrieks, bangs, wails and eerie sounds that bleed throughout the haunted house.

All she can do is endure the torment, unable to truly embrace the release of orgasmic joy and instead suffering the wrath of overstimulation. The Sybian drills her to the core; a sizzle of vibration turns into an unceasing earthquake in the hands of the guests.

As much as she tries to beg and plead for a moment of mercy, they view her as a prop in the show, an actress to entertain them.

Granted, she will be paid extra not to break character. She’s always been able to hold it together and earn her bonus. This year would be no different. Through her tears, as she orgasms beyond what she can handle, she pleads for mercy, begs them to stop and says that she’s innocent. She plays the part well.

When one of the staff ties a rope around her waist and hands it to one of the guests, she nearly breaks character as her clitoris suffers the full brunt of the Sybian. No longer able to try and wriggle away from the intense vibration, the passers-by are able to pull her forward and ensure that her swollen red clit is pummeled with stimulation.

Once she could finally breathe, once the crowds began to die down and the orgasms stopped blending into one another, she thought about the next night. She’d spend the next couple of nights abstaining from touching herself, wanting to ensure she didn’t become desensitized to the pleasure. She wanted to experience the complete pleasure of being absolutely at the mercy of the Sybian and the guests. It’s why she comes back every year, to experience it all over again.

Continue reading Haunted House ‘Prison’

Perhaps if you’d have taken heed of the warnings, you wouldn’t be here. How reckless it was to traverse home alone, but it is too late now. She told you at the beginning that she hadn’t decided what to do with you, whether she’d devour your soul with your climax or whether to let you live and keep you as her sex toy. You believe her though, that while you might beg for the latter option, in time you’ll be wishing you chose the first. The way her mouth works you as if she’s known more about your pleasures than you could ever fathom yourself, keeping you shivering non-stop.

Every time your length slips between her lips, you let out a groan of pleasure, the likes of which has never escaped your mouth before. Her tongue wraps around and cradles the head of that pulsating cock as if to let it know that it will never escape. After merely thirty minutes, she has you whimpering in need to come, yet your moans and imploring words do not satiate her nearly as much as the pulse within every vein and each twitch of longing.

No matter how much you ask, she won’t answer just how long she’ll hold you on the brink. All she tells you is that when you do come, it will feel like every orgasm you have ever experienced in your life rolled into one.

She can feel every nerve-ending signal just how close you are, feel the moments when you need a little more friction or speed, even feel the times when you start to pray that she’ll let you fuck her. Perhaps if she had told you, however, that the saliva of her kind could keep you safely erect for hours, that she’d be able to keep sucking you for as long as she wanted, maybe you wouldn’t have been begging to come quite so fast.

Continue reading

I want to play a game.

As close friends, you have both accused the other of stealing pleasure from one another. A boyfriend here, a sexual partner there. You have both been correct at times, yet now shall be the time to see who truly can steal away the most ecstasy. Perhaps then you’ll both see that what goes around can often come back twice as hard.

The Sybian vibrators nestled so intently against your pussies are wired to one another. When one of you comes, the others will increase in intensity. You have twenty minutes. If one of you screams, my associate will enter and make things even more difficult. Endure the twenty minutes without begging for it to stop, and you will both be free. Fail, and it will start all over again.

Good luck. I recommend you both try and hold back.

Continue reading

Work-Life Balance

You wanted to experience what I can do to you?

I couldn’t help but smirk a little when you first asked. On the phones at work, those brief moments when you managed to prise the details of my sexual appetite from my lips. Perhaps it was the tone, maybe the choice of words, maybe even the way I looked you deep in the eyes as I spoke, but something sparked that fire, that longing. The curiosity kept getting the better of you, asking how I did it to the other girls, where you could watch it, what kinds of toys I used and how I used them. Work was never the suitable place to answer in detail, but I gave you just enough to keep your imagination alight. Finally, once I thought your curiosity had run its course, after such silence on the topic, you asked the question that caused that smile, which you still think of now. How I pictured you teasing and pleasuring yourself to the content I had led you to, wanting to allow you to explore your desires to the fullest. Though I never expected the words to drift from your alluring lips.

“Would you do that to me? Even just once?”

Continue reading Work-Life Balance

‘Erotic Forced-Orgasm Ordeal’

You knew it would be too much, but you still let yourself give in to your fantasy and make it a reality. The scenario you had chosen, ‘erotic forced orgasm ordeal’, would have been enough on its own, but agreeing to not masturbate for the two entire weeks before it was scheduled was taking it to a new extreme. You had barely managed to last more than one week in the past when you had imposed your own little denial sessions. Yet you still managed to claw your way through the full two weeks. The desire to touch yourself had been so overwhelming, the way your pussy always throbbed just a little, even at the slightest hint of sexuality in your day-to-day life. So much of the day was spent focused on that soft little area between your thighs and all of the things that could be done to it. 

Once the time came and they tied you in place, you inwardly wished you had opted for the in-person session, just to feel those hands press to you, just for someone to do anything to you. Even if it were only going to be minutes before your orgasm, it was still not soon enough. You imagined to yourself that the ball gag was just to make sure that the organisers couldn’t hear your pleasure, a way to suppress their desires and ignore your pleas, to stop themselves from coming in and fucking you all night long. The thought had your sex dripping already. 

Once the vibrator was set in place, you were left alone. You were so turned on that you could quite easily have come just from grinding against the head of it. It turned on before you could test that theory, however, and in seconds, you were screaming in your first orgasm. That pent-up orgasm that you’d been holding back for those weeks. As if every day of arousal had been stored for this very moment to explode from you fiercely enough to knock you out. The power of the vibrator took your breath away, leaving you very few moments to catch your breath as it continued its merciless work. It was so good it hurt, yet that orgasm did not subside, so drawn out and agonising in its splendour. 

Now you know why you picked this scenario, wanting to feel all aspects of human empathy taken out of the equation, to live out your fantasy of being tortured with pleasure. This was torture. The way it was held in place so fiercely against your pussy made it so much worse. If only there was some give, maybe that would make it a little more bearable.

Even with your sex so sensitive, it continued to penetrate you to the core with those unforgiving vibrations. So sensitive, yet you needed more, and it was happy to oblige.

The second orgasm made you pull fiercely on the restraints, your body wanting to escape the torment that your mind was willing on. The next couple of orgasms, however, seemed to mesh into one. Just a barrage of over-stimulation that forced your tenderness to surrender to the orgasm. Having denied yourself for so long, though, you were more sensitive than ever. No amount of edging yourself and masturbating past your limit could ever have prepared you. The vibrator would not slow down or soften its touch no matter how much you began screaming out. Your only request was to be left until you were literally in tears of pleasure, then to be left for another twenty minutes after that. 

While you feel the trickle of pussy juice along your buttocks, while your extremities shake against the restraints, while your clitoris pulsates in need to escape the onslaught, part of you wishes that your tears began streaming after just the first orgasm. 

Continue reading ‘Erotic Forced-Orgasm Ordeal’

Is that realisation one of joy or of slight terror? Knowing that even after coming beyond what you could have ever expected to handle from the intense vibrator, those fingers inside you seem to rekindle the flame. The realisation that your pussy could be forced to orgasm even more from those fingertips finding just the right spot. 

There’s something so intense about having someone do that to you; the desire projected from someone else adds so much more. The unmoving, unfeeling vibrator locked in place made you feel like you’d die from the pleasure. Yet having a person take control makes it feel like they want you to die from the pleasure, so terribly intense to have emotion and desire added to the beautiful torment. Maybe that is why you are coming again, even though you said you couldn’t take any more.

Continue reading

Just imagine being in her position right now, completely lost in the sensations, trapped in the eroticism. 

That motion along your chest, those fleeting little sensations up and down your cleavage, leading that scenic pathway to those slowly stiffening peaks. The little pinch that makes you feel those sharp little tugs from her pursed lips. It’s only when you are desperate for more, once you cannot stand the attention placed solely on your chest, that the motions lead downwards. 

Just trailing along your thighs, leading that swirling dance towards that coveted space. The tender motions, almost like brushstrokes, sweep closer and closer until your hips plead for contact. 

You can feel it so clearly as the lips press right there, the way your wrists would strain against those bonds in a bid for some resemblance of control. Behind the blindfold, you can imagine countless lovers and idols of lust. All of them feasting so intently upon that soft, sweet sex. How that mouth would work you to a frenzy, just keeping you held in the clutches of bliss but never quite unleashing the fury you need. Always keeping steady enough to not let you veer too close. Not quite to get you to the edge repeatedly, but instead to merely take the very longest route.

On and on that mouth suckles and caresses, like the slowest masturbation, just enough to build it, but so slowly it takes every ounce of control not to speed up. At this speed, you know what that wondrous lover between your legs knows; once you finally climax, it will feel more intense than any other way you’ve masturbated before. But it won’t stop or speed up. That pace will keep you held in the grasp of that orgasm for the longest time possible.

That’s it, get ready for it. You know it’s coming…

Continue reading