Designed for Pleasure

Those brief moments while you lie there, hands tied, blindfolded, thinking back through the day and realizing how many people would have wanted you in this position. So many eyes lingering on you, undressing you with their gaze, fantasizing about penetrating you in so many ways, daydreaming about those gorgeous curves hidden behind the fabric concealing your frame.

If only they knew how many times you’d strolled past them, merely hours after having teased yourself relentlessly, brought yourself constantly to the brink of that orgasm. You wonder now and again if that’s what they see in the back of their minds when they greet you or smile at you, that girl writhing in agonizing ecstasy, hips bucking as those fingers explore such a dripping wet, quivering delicacy, breasts heaving as you arch in a glorious scream of orgasmic bliss.

Now, you’ll be theirs. You wonder what you’ll feel first, his fingertips making a path from your neck to your sex, perhaps her hands caressing the outline of your body and exploring every curve. Those fingers, those mouths, those tongues, all ready to trail down your body and tantalize every segment of your sensitive milky white skin. You wonder when they’ll strip you, knowing how much everyone loves the way your lingerie clings so tightly, the way it tempts them even more to strip you and expose you. So helpless. Perhaps you’ll have to wait until you were begging for them to do it, to tear them off and just sink their mouths around that desperate pussy.

Soon, you’ll hear the sounds, the buzzing of the vibrators, ready to push your body to the brink. The sounds of the men stroking their cocks, wanting to feel just how tight and silky smooth it is to be inside you. The wet sounds of tongues lapping against your clitoris, trapping it to devour and suck it mercilessly. All those sounds are like background noise to your own tireless moans and screams. You won’t escape it. They’ll do everything they’ve wanted to do to you ever since witnessing you. And once they do let you come, once they have tormented you enough and brought you to the edge until it has nearly driven you mad with need, you will be forced to come until you beg them to stop. They won’t.

Every inch of you is designed for pleasure. Every hand around you is designed to lavish it upon you.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image submitted by: Fucktoyhaley

The Need

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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.

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The joy always lies in the thought of what is next.

Knowing that the vibrations will not yield, wondering how intense they’ll feel after the next few minutes.

Thinking of how you’ll possibly suffer through the next orgasm after how unbearably intense this one is.

Wondering just how sensitive your clitoris will get once the next wave of ecstasy threatens to drown you.

Aroused and terrified in near equal measure of how the device would feel if it pressed directly against your skin, without the barrier of the fabric slightly shielding it.

Curious when you might need to signal the safeword and whether the next orgasmic embrace will grip just that little too tightly. Questioning why feeling the restraints rendering you helpless makes the ordeal even more erotic, no matter how much you fight against them.

Continue to thrash and writhe and wonder; I’ll keep this right here and ensure that you find out very soon.

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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

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.

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It’s not what you feel is happening which is taking its toll on your body. It’s what you imagine is to come.

Just a single fingertip presses to that aching, wet little entrance, though the thought of the most teasing of tongues keeps you trapped. Moan out as you picture what will soon come, to feel those restraints holding you at my mercy while these merciless fingers wreak havoc upon your sensitive body. Just the thoughts alone keep your nipples so stiff, so ready for my lips to clasp around, to suck those sweet morsels with such delight. You do not dare let your fingertip sink any deeper, wanting to savour the moment my own sinks into you to feel that silky, convulsing depth. That material clinging to your hips will soon be gone, to leave you helpless for me, but not just yet; keep stroking to the thoughts of how my mouth will savour your pussy. You know just how much I love how swollen it gets when you are this turned on, the way my mouth sinks into you as those lips part for me. 

Now stop and spread those legs for me; once these restraints are on, I’ll control every sensation your body can take. Now clear your mind and focus solely on your stiff little clitoris and nipples. Those delicate peaks of pure pleasure. Focus solely on them, how sensitive they are, how vulnerable they are. Now think of what I’m going to do to them…

Written by: PleasureTorture

Submission by: Kalinhamari

Just for a moment, I want to be so close, close enough to almost feel what you feel, to sense the desire and anticipation, the longing. Just knowing how it’s going to feel in that exact same place, the sensations that will stem from right here.

Right now, at the height of eroticism, there is no you or I. There is simply just a single entity of pleasure. To freeze this moment indefinitely, if only it weren’t so unbearable to hold. 

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Just let your imagination take hold, and then you’ll feel them. Those hands, gliding, teasing, trailing, pinching, feeling them linger on those places your own want to press against. The gyration of your hips, the moans of your arousal, the stiffness of your nipples, the beating of your heart getting faster and faster; none of it is under your control. Those fingertips will draw it all from you and more. 

Take those most sensuous thoughts and exotic dreams, those most erotic fantasies and pleasurable desires, and turn them into your own little reality. 

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Does feeling that length within your palm make you that little wetter? Feeling it pulse to your touch. You can imagine how it would feel sliding right where these fingers are. I can feel how it turns you on as well to know that it doesn’t stop even when you try to push that hand away. Letting you know that
when this pulsing, swollen cock replaces those fingers, there won’t be any way to hold it back.

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Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Nubile Films