"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."
Tag: erotic horror
Kidnapped on the way home from the party, Anna had no idea that her Halloween outfit was a perfect match for the crime-fighting heroine ‘Blue Spark’. The cruel Mistress Spider did not believe any of the protests and pleas from the innocent girl. Mistress Spider wanted the exact details of the heroes’ hideout and was intent on torturing the information from her no matter how long it took. Ensnared by Mistress Spider, Anna could only beg and scream as she was forced to orgasm repeatedly and relentlessly.
No matter what Anna said, the merciless villain did not stop; Anna soon began to try to will herself to pass out, yet still, her body was wracked with orgasm after orgasm. Mistress Spider was certain that soon the woman would crack, that soon the countless, constant orgasms would force even Blue Spark to give in. Until then, she was going to simply enjoy the display. For Anna, there was no escape.
Whispers of eroticism twisting through the night air; like a petal entwined in breeze, you writhe, lost in the mystical passions that threaten to consume you.
Neither asleep nor truly awake, you feel an embrace like no other, as if the atmosphere itself is lovingly caressing your body, keeping you held in its place. Not being fully awake, fear does not cloud the enchantment of sensuality your body possesses. The first ripples of movement around your body have it curious for more, as if the slightest sense of activity in the air sets your nerves alight.
The caressing movement of the sheets presses over your body as if they were the hands of a thousand masseurs exploring the contours of your female frame. Your body seems to burn with a need, yet there is no way of ever knowing whether time has passed in seconds or hours – every touch upon your body seems to linger for an eternity.
The embrace of the entity against your chest sends a warm surge down to your toes. Instinctively, your hands press to the sheets, clasping onto nothing but cotton yet still feeling as if all the hands in the world were focused on your body.
As your skin is exposed, the air itself seems to kiss every morsel of you, as if the sensual whispers were showing their appreciation. You writhe in agonised ecstasy as your breasts are caressed once again, every fibre of your sexuality being enticed effortlessly. The sheets embrace you ceaselessly, like a sea of pleasure washing over you, threatening to drown you. Unlike fingers, the motions wreaking havoc around your body feel like countless threads of silk twining around your skin.
The movements lead between your thighs, making your internal, subconscious voice cry out in bliss. The sheet envelops you, a mass of pleasure encasing you as you rock uncontrollably, feeling like the sensation of a hundred silky brushes rolling along the deepest sensitivities of your sex, all under the firm grasp of the sheet rocking against your womanhood.
You will not awake from this abyss of pleasure until the desires of the night are through with you; passing out, screaming out, shielding yourself – these are options beyond your control. You are merely the passenger. They shall drive you to the greatest heights of pleasure.
Without control, without respite, you moan into the eternity of the night.
Whether you have only dreamt about the lingering delights of being teased while restrained or have felt the reality of warm fingertips set to tantalise you… it matters not.
Whether through the whispers of a dream, or the grasp of reality, you will succumb to the delights of your mind and body in helpless rapture.
Even when you wake up, the longing and sexual desire wrought upon you by those dreams continues to course throughout.
Over the day, you think back to those moments, looking up and seeing them surrounding you, working you relentlessly. The hell of being forced to orgasm so cruelly without the possibility of rest, without the mercy of even being able to succumb to unconsciousness still fresh in your mind. The way they seemed to take such enjoyment from your screams, such pleasure from keeping your pussy juices dripping constantly, made you shiver.
You can’t decide which you feel more of, anticipation or fear… knowing what may be happening all over again once you go back to sleep. The memory of the women caressing you, imprisoning you with pure lust and desire, mingles with the thoughts of how much they had tormented you. No matter how much you cried out from the orgasms, how much your clitoris throbbed achingly as it was licked by the flames of overstimulation, they didn’t stop for a second.
In the dream world, the merciless torment they put you through went on for hours. The thought of enduring it all over again arouses and terrifies you in equal measure. Each time you close your eyes, you see them all over again, how they groped and pinched and fingerfucked you, constantly exploring your overstimulated body. As the night draws on, you get sleepier and sleepier, closer to feeling their embrace once again. No matter whether you consider it a dream or a nightmare, you are powerless to prevent it; you will return to them.
Your dreams have been so unusual and erotic lately, yet this was the most vivid and intense you have ever had. That sensation of being helpless and surrounded that has often turned you on seemed to merge with the desire to be manhandled and dominated by other women.
The dream of being in an operating theatre, yet simply being there to be pleasured relentlessly, had you dripping throughout the night. No matter how much they made you come, how intensely your body strained as they kept rubbing and fingering your overstimulated pussy, you couldn’t seem to wake up; it simply would not stop. Kept in this dream world, you couldn’t pass out or become dehydrated. You simply had to endure the non-stop assault of orgasm after orgasm. With your pussy juices coating the table and the bed you were asleep in, and with your entire body shaking and convulsing in the throes of constant orgasms, no matter how you tried to close your legs and rest, they kept spreading you open and starting all over again.
Yet even when you do finally wake up, will it all simply end there?
Wherever they had come from, those fetching panties that she had discovered in her drawer were going to inflict a night of passion upon her that she would never forget.
The silky softness of that tight little piece of fabric made her hunger for the touches against her sensuous mound; never in her most erotic dreams could she imagine that those panties would embody something which hungered for her just as much.
From the moment she put them on, she longed to caress her sex. The cool silk seemed to enhance every sensation. After mere seconds it seemed as if every nerve ending in her body had focused its attention on just that one space between her legs. The deep longing grew and grew until simply the slippery stroke of a fingertip was not nearly enough. She had felt the joy of being teased plenty of times before, yet this longing was unlike anything else – as if every passing second added an hour’s worth of tantalisation.
She removed the lingerie hastily, unaware that its spell had long been cast upon her body the moment they were worn, the moment they encased her sensitive womanhood.
Completely naked and exposed, she still felt the familiar sensation of the cool, soft silkiness clinging to her sex, though all her attention was on the uncontrollable longing which burned between her legs. Her fingers magnetised towards it, yet instead of the fulfilling comfort of masturbation, they were stopped. As if they were being held back, she could not push her hands any further down. No matter how much she tried to slide her fingers down to quench the fire raging within her sex, she was left held so cruelly close. While the unendurable longing did not seem to die down, her pussy seemed to be throbbing with more need with each second.
The tingling seemed to increase to a burning need, until moments later it was like she was trapped in the vice of an impending orgasm that wouldn’t come. Still, her pussy was inexplicably out of reach. Suddenly her arms were pulled back and came to rest above her head, pinned in place as if they were being held tightly. Just as fast, her pussy was embraced by sensations she could not explain or comprehend. Even while her pussy was bare, she could feel the familiar sensation of the silky material embracing her. This sensation seemed to combine with the stimulation of being touched by the softest of fingertips, of being licked by the most precise tongue, of being nibbled by the most eager mouth.
She thought her engorged mound would explode with need as repeatedly she was brought so close to orgasm and held there before it backed off just enough to leave her hips thrusting for more. She wanted to touch herself, to touch anywhere, just to feel the soft curves of her heat-stricken body. Still, she remained held in place, tormented to a state of craving that she had never thought possible. The constant writhing of her hips did nothing to increase the formless yet ever-present and unyielding manipulations of her soft, delicate mound.
Finally, when she thought her consciousness could not stand any more of that tantalising torture, it happened. Her pussy felt like it had suddenly been devoured with pure stimulation, as if her entire sex were being sucked. Every tiny detail and sensitivity of that swollen mound seemed to be being latched onto by the air itself. After so much time spent in the hell of denial, the sudden avalanche of suction was a heaven of orgasmic bliss. Her orgasm seemed to never end – she didn’t want it to. All she cared about was the unparalleled pleasure that confined her to the bed. Wave after wave of orgasm was sucked from her. The mixture of such long denial and the longing brought about by the lingerie kept fuelling the orgasmic fire. As if reading her mind, the sucking stopped, ceasing just as the almost painfully intense orgasms started to cross the line of being unbearable.
Once she was able to move her arms, she knew it was over. All was still and quiet in the room. Finally able to catch her breath, as if her lungs were also finally her own now, she simply lay there motionless, recovering from the fiercest orgasms she had ever experienced.
As she lay there, she thought to herself that she may wait at least another week before putting those back on.
Writhe, struggle, tense every muscle, it all makes no difference. I will still show no mercy. How does it feel knowing that I can feel every sensation that you experience? How does it feel knowing that I am in control of every touch?
You feel like a puppet on strings as I once again control your fingers to work faster, feeling your body draw to the very edge of an orgasm before I make those fingers slow down, keeping you constantly held on the brink, riding it out repeatedly and so cruelly.
In your mind, you continue to beg me over and over, pleading with me to stop torturing you with denial, yet still, I simply reply with erotic whispers trailing through your consciousness. I once again tell you that I had always wanted to experience the intensity of the sensations a girl must feel when she gets close; now that I have taken control of your body for the night, to share it and feel your pleasure, I will make the most of it, I will push you beyond anything any human has ever experienced before. You aren’t the first girl I have taken control of and teased for the night. For her to wake up and think it was a dream. Though you will certainly suffer so much more than any of the others have.
My last whispers in your mind make you wish you could wake up…
“If this is what it feels like to keep this body on the edge of orgasm for two hours, I look forward to feeling what it is like after ten more of them”.
“Forced orgasms” was all she had written, and it was what she’d receive. Once the haunted house had stolen Lily’s companions from her, she welcomed the presence of the strangers around her, all cloaked in black and leading her to the room. It was foreboding to see the mattress at the centre of the sinister-looking room, though she was thankful that it was warm and rather comfortable once they laid her down on it. She had resigned herself to the fate ahead as they restrained her to it and placed the ball gag in her mouth.
“You will scream,” whispered one of the figures as the other left. At that, he removed the cloak and looked upon her body with a hunger in his eyes. She shied away from his gaze before he knelt beside her and began his exploration of her pleasure.
ToysMultiple-Orgasms Bondage. Stephanie couldn’t decide what fantasy turned her on the most, the waiver form showing clearly that she had many desires on her mind. The Haunted House did not want to deny her any satisfaction.
When Stephanie and the remaining companions entered a room full of smoke, they all started to become drowsy.
“We need to get out of here,” yelled one of her friends.
As they all began to sprint through the room, a case of the blind following the blind as they aimlessly pressed onward, Stephanie became sluggish and fell behind, succumbing the most to the effects of the smoke, which seemed to possess the quality of sleeping gas. Once the rest of the group exited the room, only just about making it out before giving in to unconsciousness, they realised Stephanie was gone. They did not dare venture back, leaving the sleeping girl to whatever fate the haunted house had in store for her.
As Olivia ventured deeper into the haunted house, she noticed that it seemed to start brimming with plant life, gorgeous flowers that seemed to breathe a new lease of life into what had been such a dark, claustrophobic setting. It was only when she entered a large, garden-like open space that she realised that she had unknowingly been separated from her friends. Before she had time to call back out to them, a group dressed as zombies sprang forth from the surrounding foliage and apprehended her. She had no time to react or even cry out for help as she was stripped naked and thrust onto a table at the centre of the thriving garden. The moment she was held down on it, she realised that the garden itself wasn’t simply a prop. It was pulsating with life; the greenery seemed to undulate as if breathing in and out. The movement above, with the rhythmic churning of branches and petals, almost hypnotised the naked girl for a moment, though the realisation that the hands were no longer what kept her held down brought her back to reality.
