"When you are pulling against the restraints… when your back is arched and your hips are writhing… when your mouth is open in a silent scream of tortured rapture… you will know that my work has begun".
Jessica and her friends had ventured to the PleasureTorture Haunted House having heard so much about it, how exciting and surreal the experience was. Apart from the praise, they had received little other information about what actually happened within, with each personal encounter being very unforthcoming with details, except merely stating that everyone has an entirely different experience. Once they all finally arrived and signed the waivers, it was time to begin. The strangest question within the paperwork was being asked what their deepest fantasies were, though they had already expected this to be unlike anything before.
The first portion of the haunted house was similar to most others, though with a lot more physical contact and a lot more intense scares. Their hearts were pumping from all of the extremely realistic and shocking jump scares lurking around the many corners and hiding places. Occasionally the girls found themselves being touched a little more intimately than they had expected, though the next abrupt scare left them forgetting about it fast. All they had known beforehand was that there would be a distinctly erotic element to the maze of horrors, yet aside from the occasional lingering touch from hands embedded within the walls and from the performers, they found themselves being scared a lot more frequently than expected.
It was when one of the girls found herself picked off and dragged silently from the others that things changed. While the others left behind would soon call out Jessica’s name to no avail and huddle together closer, they also would soon find themselves taken one by one. Jessica was the first to feel the real delight of the haunted house. She had given just a little insight on the waiver forms about how she’d always wanted to be manhandled by a couple of strangers; now she’d experience exactly what she had fantasised about. The figures held her down and tormented her as silently as they’d captured her. Completely overpowered by the two figures, she was helpless against those penetrative fingers, exploring her so deeply without letting her rest. It took no time at all for her body to catch up with the desires of her mind as within minutes Jessica came harder than she ever had in her life, as if they’d tapped into her most primal desire. Held down so tightly however, there was nothing she could do to stop them from giving her what she had always craved time and time again. She could play along and scream for them to stop, but they knew exactly what she inwardly yearned for.
Jessica was the first to experience what the Haunted House held within, yet the others would also succumb very soon…
The pulsing resonance of her screams sweeps the halls, all eyes fixed on the writhing beauty before the class. Her hips push and pull against the seat, the words and murmurs around her linger like a haze, trapped in a fog of emotions. She knows better than to ask them to let her go or to not make her cum again, yet every fragment of her being screams out to do so.
If only she had not have spoken out of turn, she’d be watching another in this position, being used as the pleasure puppet to motivate the rest of the class.
Another correct answer made her wince, knowing what was to come. As soon as the teacher congratulated the student, the class fell silent once more, drowning the girl in a sea of attention. Another question answered correctly, another orgasm… each becoming more punishing than the last.
Her body no longer felt simply her own. She wanted to disappear, to crawl into a black hole and never return. She’d give anything to simply just keep the blindfold on, to never see the faces that had all gazed upon her most intimate reactions.
When you walk through the Erotic Halloween Haunted House you’ll see him, though you’ll have heard all of his begging and moaning even from the entrance. It certainly looks erotic, seeing him being teased to the edge constantly while pleading with all of his heart for someone to let him come. It feels as if he’s calling out to every single person walking through. You’ll think to yourself about how good the acting is, you’ll perhaps wonder if they keep him in that state for the duration of the night or let him rest now and again. You might even wonder if or when they let him come at the end of the night, but once you move along, the thought will pass and the rest of the venue will gain your attention.
If only you knew though, that this was not an act, that there was no relief in sight for this tormented man. Nobody recalls quite how long this display has been one of the focal attractions of the venue, whether it was years or decades. Yet every year it is the same, seeing his anguish at being stroked and teased relentlessly to the brink yet never allowed to come. Those hands caressing every inch of his shaft, massaging those balls so tight with the anticipation of orgasmic release. For you it is merely a sight to behold for a few hours of a single night. For him, it is a torture endured endlessly. Those deep groans and cries for mercy have all been pent up for these brief moments in the year, hoping that somebody may have the power to release him from this hell of denial. Trapped on the cusp indefinitely. Never aging, never needing anything other than the heavenly climax that has been withheld for years without a minute of respite. Maybe if you knew, you’d help. Or maybe you’d still walk on by, in fear that if you tried to end his suffering, you’d take his place and suffer the same fate.