edging – PleasureTorture

Uncertainty (4/5)

The fourth time, that ache of need turns to a burn, that sensation that fills you throughout. It won’t be quenched until you get it, and that’s when you start to plead for it.

Those fingers, those toys, are always able to tantalize you to the very pinnacle, working you like the finest instrument and playing the perfect melody. Right on the edge, if only something could press just inside, or just against your swollen clitoris merely for a moment more. But no, it stops once again, leaving you to beg. Such an erotic thing, begging someone to let you orgasm. Begging to be granted the wonderful release of pent-up pleasure that you need oh so much.

Untitled (3/5)

The third time, that sting of need starts to swell to an ache. The little murmurs turned to moans. You know how those sounds turn me on, and you start to hope they make me show mercy. Deep down, though, you know they won’t; the more you moan, the more I want. The harder it gets, the closer you feel to coming, the more you know that you won’t climax this time. This time, when it stops, you start to ask for it; that’s when you know we’ve truly begun…

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…

The Need

Anticipation once again permeated throughout the room as the audience took to their seats. The previous nights had been so intense, watching her being teased constantly without the hope of climax. Perhaps this would be the night that she’d be given respite from the agonizing need. It was such a tantalizing affair to watch such beautiful suffering, such desire, knowing that the performer had been selected due to her sensitivity. She was paid very handsomely. However, this was a way to see something beyond an act, to see raw passion so fully exposed, pure, unfiltered desire laid open beyond any mere performance. They were here to see sexuality at its finest.

The slow, calculated bathing ritual was, of course, meant to arouse as much as cleanse. However, these last couple of nights had been pure hell even without their grazing fingertips; a glance towards her bare skin was enough to burn like a lick of flame. The silence was what made it all so much worse, particularly when she was on the stage. The intimacy of the small audience kept her aware of how every pair of eyes was constantly lingering on her body, letting her bask in the heat of the thoughts that must be racing through their minds. If the teasing touches from being bathed and prepared were like the ebb of the tide against her arousal, the man’s hands against her were like a tsunami crashing over her.

He had so much experience with teasing and tormenting his targets, honed to perfection and unleashed on this girl’s body all at once. The way his fingers trailed and played, caressed and penetrated. He always left the audience just on the brink as much as her, wondering whether she’d topple over, but he always knew when to stop. They had worked together for too long for him to make any mistakes, to not be able to read her little signs. They both wanted the same thing: for the audience to be able to taste the desire, to feel every pulse of longing. She wanted the men to feel that throb and imagine how it would feel within; he wanted the women to feel that convulsion and for them to moan in unison every time he entered her. However, as time went on, her attention veered from the audience and more onto herself as her mind joined her body in a desperate plea to climax. It was the same every day they performed, but as the week went on, it happened sooner and sooner. Though each time she whispered for him to please let her come, she was met with an audible ‘no’, loud enough for the audience to know what she’d asked and to let them revel in her sweet despair.

When his rock-hard cock was inside her, the tension was palpable. Every thrust seemed as if it would be the one to throw them over the edge; every wet slap of penetration was expected to be joined by her screams of release, yet still, they both held on. He had also spent just as long as her without orgasm, though he loved it, the way it made him feel so stiff and full and how much more it added to the show. It was, after all, all about the show; their pleasure was the centre stage. That was why, when she gasped that she was about to come and the audience held their breath in anticipation, he withdrew and simply motioned ‘no’. Leaving her on edge as much as the audience, perhaps tomorrow he’ll be at the point where his will would be broken, where the desire to show off the art of lust wouldn’t outweigh his desperate need to come. She, however, was already beyond that point. Perhaps tomorrow the artistic, sensual splendour of orgasm will be on display, but not tonight.

The Gift

You do as you were told in the dream. On Christmas Eve, you had dreamt of him, the absolute picture of your fantasies as if he were there with you in the flesh. After the most wonderful of dreams, filled with passion and eroticism, you woke up, wishing it were real. However, you recalled his one request as if it were whispered in your ear directly.

‘On Christmas, place your hands above your head and close your eyes. I’ll stay with you until you open your eyes.’

When you also opened up a gift beneath your Christmas tree – one you didn’t recognise – and saw that it contained nothing but a note stating, ‘Remember, keep your eyes closed,’ you knew it must be real. It couldn’t have been merely a dream.

Not Yet…

Will she experience the release of orgasm? Listen in as she is instructed to hold back until she can no longer take it.

Audio featuring PleasureTorture and ‘Z’.

Bruc3 – Release

“Pl- Oh fuck. Oh Go- Mmmmmnnnn I-I- Fuuuuuck. PLEASE! Please, please have mercy. Have mer- ahnnnn God. I can’t… take… it. It’s December… it’s December… Aaaannn…. Please. I’m dying to come… Mnnnn fu-fu-fu…. FUCK! LET ME COME!!!”

November had already long passed, yet still, she hadn’t felt the welcome relief of orgasm at the hands of her metallic companion, Bruc3. The first few days of December were a write-off because she had to let him charge his batteries. Even though she masturbated vigorously during this downtime for the machine, she wasn’t able to bring herself to orgasm without the intense stimulation that she’d become accustomed to. All these first days of December did was frustrate her even more.

For the following days, once Bruc3 was charged and active, the machine simply continued where it left off, teasing her daily yet not letting her climax.

“All readings indicate that you are at the highest point of arousal when you know that you are not going to be allowed to climax. I will ensure that you are granted your orgasm when the time is right. You are most receptive to having me in control, aren’t you?”

While she could never deny that it was maddeningly erotic to have this machine now in charge of her pleasure, she felt like she’d go mad if she was forced to endure another month of being teased without being allowed to come.

Bruc3

“No more… NO MORE!!! FUUUUCK. Please. M-Mercy. Please. PLEASE! I… mmmnnn… can’t take it… nnngggaaa… anymore. I’m… I’m… Oh God. OH GOD… Sooo… close… ffff- aaahhhh. I’M BEGGING YOU… PLEEEASE!”

Before witnessing the hell she is enduring, we must step back to see how it all started.

The Bipedal Responsive User-Centered Computer Model 3, known as Bruc3 for short. It was the greatest machine ever built, able to learn and respond to its user along with updating itself with information gathered from the internet constantly; a self-developing work of perfection on two metal legs.

She had bought one for the sole purpose of pleasuring herself, having struggled to ever climax through masturbation and finding that only powerful vibrators could get the job done, and even then, only rarely. The thought of a machine that could learn all about her not only as a fun companion after work but as a sex aid was a wonderful prospect. Many had sung its praises as being the ultimate in sex tech, something it had been intended for, though not as widely publicised.

Her first session with Bruc3 was incredible. Although he looked intimidating – a hulking colossus of wires and metal standing at 7 feet with a large glass done where a face would be, housing cameras and sensors – he was surprisingly gentle. He lifted her up by the waist, lifting her entirely off the ground. Straps suddenly wrapped around her thighs, pulling her hips onto his unexpectedly warm surface. She kept her hands resting on his enormous shoulders while something resembling a tongue teased along her pussy. The more she became aroused, the more it vibrated until it was joined by more tongue-like devices, all vibrating up and down her slit and over her clitoris. She’d never felt anything like it.

Seduction School

Standing in front of the classroom, she took a moment to bask in the sea of eager faces and excited chatter. Her sharp, pointed teeth shone back at some of the students who were watching her in anticipation to begin.

Just like everyone in the classroom, she was entirely naked. Amongst her kind, she did not need to try and blend in or put on an act. She could sense the arousal from the male in particular to her right. She wondered if the rest of the class had picked up on his arousal, other than merely his throbbing erection that faced the classroom. The woman was also turned on, though her arousal was not as strong to the scent as the male, as is always the case with females. They tend to have a much easier time hiding their arousal, not just externally. The teacher could, however, sense that the female was looking at her shapely rear, though she was most likely just as transfixed by the long black tail that whipped left and right as much as she was checking out her ass.

“Silence.”

Not a sound could be heard other than the deep breathing from the male and female who lay naked on a table at the front of the class. A sizzle of electric excitement rang through the room. Her dark-red wings spread out fully as she opened her arms and addressed the class again.

“Welcome. It is a pleasure to have so many of you joining us today. I promised I’d have live subjects for us to study. I have cast a spell to ensure they cannot make any noise yet. We’ve all heard the relentless pleas these humans bellow out when they are in our company. It grows tiresome. Maybe later, I’ll release them from the spell so that we can hear some of the sweeter sounds they make.”

The pair of humans, lying on the table completely naked and propped up by pillows behind their backs, could only look back at the sea of faces gazing at them, razor-sharp teeth gleaming in grins at their naked bodies.

Ghostly Realty

She had tried for so long to sell the property, yet every time a buyer was on the knife edge, they backed out, leaving the residence in her hands yet again. After the situation repeated itself time and time again, she decided to finally look closely into the stories of it being haunted, which she had always laughed off. After an entire day spent basking in the comfortable, luxurious mansion, there were no signs of any activity that could cause alarm. It was only when she decided to take a nap on the sumptuous leather Chesterfield that she’d experienced what so many before her had sensed.

Without even the slightest creek of the wood-panelled floor, the women materialised out of nowhere and weightlessly formed a circle around their sleeping prey. For so long they had driven others out of their dwelling in order to find those who would satisfy their appetite. To feast on the deepest of their prey’s fantasies, this one would prove to be a most fulfilling banquet.

First, they caressed her, their touches doing little to stir the slumbering female until their forms began to more physically manifest and present themselves upon her body. Once she awoke, she believed she was in a dream, able to notice the faintest transparency in the female forms around her while still in a daze. Only when they began to strip her did she realise it was reality, though it was too late. The whispers seemed to penetrate her mind, telling her that she was in no danger, that they merely wanted to satisfy her desires. Whether it was the way they touched her so tenderly, whether it was the fact that this was her innermost deepest fantasy, or whether they held some kind of power over her, she felt so calm and unfazed by the situation. Somewhere, there was a fear, a sense of unease, yet every time her mind tried to override her body’s passive state, the touches and caresses pulled her back within their grasp. Even when she tried to tear away from them just before she was stripped completely naked, the hands clasped around her and held her back in place, indicating that she could do nothing but give in; she knew then that she was theirs for the taking.

She wasn’t sure whether they could read her mind or her arousal, or whether they had merely done this so many times that they could play any mortal like an instrument, but every touch seemed to resonate more than what anyone had ever accomplished with her before. They teased and tantalised her with abandon until her hips rocked for something more. The female entities then took turns using the vibrator on her, continuously bringing her to the brink before backing off. However many times they had done this, they never grew tired of those beautiful moans, those delightful screams. Those sensations that they themselves could never feel again. It brought them a little respite to bring about such sensations that they could never forget. Trapped in a hell of longing, they would make sure to keep their prisoners in this state for as long as possible. To keep her in their snare of pleasure and to hear her constantly beg with need and then beg them to stop. All the while savouring those screams and moans of orgasmic anguish. The cycle continued; her body was pushed to the edge with the cruel agony of denial before being plunged into the abyss of forced orgasms.

She did not know which was worse, the need she felt when they kept her from coming or the torture of enduring that vibrator being pressed against her pulsating clitoris after she came again and again. Any time she tried to stop it, that inhuman grip held her in place and forced her to endure so much more. It was beyond too much, but she soon realised she would have to take it. Either she could give in and tell them to stop or withstand this constant barrage of torturous denial and forced orgasms, constantly keeping her locked in a cycle of begging for the other sensation to return until the end of the night. Even though it was too much, she did not want this living fantasy to end. Though she felt that even if she pleaded with them to stop, they would not grant her such mercy quite so soon into the evening.