Tag: denial

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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…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.

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Uncertainty (1/5)

It’s the uncertainty that gets you the most. Wondering whether this time, maybe this time, you’ll get to feel that orgasm. Just like how your own fingertips – your own control of the toy – still leave you unsure of just when; will you give yourself that mercy and let the orgasm overtake you, or will you keep going until your body gives out first, unable to hold it back?

The first time, just the slow and steady rise while your legs spread apart, exposing you. Perhaps your legs are pushed apart fiercely, letting you know just who is in charge, yet you keep them held like that, inviting the exploration. Maybe it’ll happen though, that little thought crossing your mind that an orgasm now would be the biggest shock. The surprise and urgency making it all the more intense. But no, not yet, of course. It pulls away. The first time is playful, teasing in the lightest sense of the word. After all, you aren’t begging yet. So much more time to feast on your pleasure…

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Futile.

Knowing the barrier of the fabric won’t let those fingers press right there.

Knowing those slender digits won’t apply enough pressure on your achingly in-need clit, or sink between your moist, swollen pussy lips.

Certain that you will not receive the friction you need or the intimate penetration that every inch of your body screams out for.

Certain that the pattern will continue, that those cruel, teasing fingertips will torment the gorgeously smooth mound of your femininity continuously.

Yet still, you thrust your hips up, rock your waist back and forth, as if it will make any difference. As if bucking and writhing will provide any relief or draw any mercy.

Utterly futile.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

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?”

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The hardness and the softness, that delicious friction, a slippery wet sensation of pure sexual delight. How the anticipation gives way to unstoppable urges, the way the pulsating heat invites and intoxicates. Every tremble and shudder, every pulse and twitch, feeling how deep he’ll be within her, feeling how softly she’ll wrap around him. The pleasure resonates deeper and deeper, thrusting and churning within, and that is before he is even inside her.

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The Masseuse (Part III)

If they both knew how much they’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, they would never have denied themselves throughout November. It seems foolish now to have passed on the opportunity to masturbate when these skilled hands tormented them beyond reason.

The man’s entire body was already tingling with anticipation when he had first arrived; his mind was too focused on the pleasure to come to pay much attention to the second massage table in the room. He was asked to undress and lie on his back. The moment he stripped and laid down, the masseuse instantly returned and began caressing his upper body. His lower body remained covered by a towel. Even though the masseuse’s warm, oil-coated hands massaged only his shoulders and chest, his length instantly began to stir. The month of abstinence – two months total without a full orgasm – meant that all he could think of was the masseuse’s hands reaching under to stroke his cock. Just thinking of her stroking him, sucking him and riding him instantly sent a surge through to his manhood. He wanted her to whisper to him that she was going to fuck him, to impale herself on him, that knowing how desperate to come he was made her wet just thinking about, and how it aroused her to fuck men in this state.

Instead of fulfilling his fantasies right away, the masseuse simply continued to massage him wordlessly. Even the previous sexual audio, which filled the room with moans and cries of ecstasy, was absent.

Just as he began to wonder why things were so different and why the masseuse’s previous accomplice wasn’t present, another person entered the room, followed by the accomplice.

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The Masseuse (Part II)

(Part I)

If she knew how much she’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, she’d have never denied herself for so long.

She had often enjoyed the sensuality of her monthly full-body massage. While she always felt that her masseuse lingered on her inner thighs more than necessary, there was nothing overtly sexual about the experience. What was apparent, however, was that after every massage, she had a great need to masturbate once she returned home. She always abstained from playing with herself for a few days before her massage, enjoying the heightened sensitivity and where her imagination led her following the massage. This time she had decided to test herself and abstain for the entire month. Having not touched herself intimately between her last massage and this one, she was already in a hyper-sexual state of mind before even lying down on the table.

Covered in only a towel, she was aware of how little her body was concealed from the two women who walked into the room. The masseuse and her female accomplice -introduced as a trainee – began massaging her back. The second woman’s wonderfully soft, warm hands ran across her shoulders while the masseuse focused on her legs. Folding the towel down inch by inch, the trainee was free to press along more of her back. It would have had her imagination on fire to have been focusing on how this newcomer’s fingertips were grazing so close to the sides of her breasts, squished against the padded table. What instead drew her attention was how the masseuse’s hands were gliding up her legs so brazenly. The masseuse’s hands slid from feet to ankles to upper thighs and buttocks in one direct motion, instantly pushing the towel up so that it barely concealed her intimacy. A mixture of shyness and arousal coursed through the silent woman. Feeling a little cool air between her legs, she closed them, knowing that the masseuse positioned at the foot of the massage table would be able to sneak a peek at her privacy if so inclined. She was unable to conceal a gasp as the masseuse suddenly gripped her ankles and pulled her legs back apart.

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Just keep teasing yourself, don’t lower yourself down any further. Just let that inch penetrate you, making you want so much more. I know you want nothing more than to take it all deep inside you, but you’ve got to wait and anticipate it until every inch of you screams out for it. After all, you must know how much I also want to feel that tight, soft wetness wrap around my entire length. Good girl, keep letting just the tip slip up and down. If only you could feel how much the rest of my cock is pulsing in anticipation of being inside you. I want you at that point where you know that you will come the moment you take every inch of me within you.

Get ready to thrust down on me…

Now… take it all.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source: Hegre-Art