"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".
How wonderfully the vibrations pierce to her very core, with only this thin piece of cotton between the wand and her tenderness; devastating her without even touching her skin fully.
The smooth caress gliding across the warmth of your soft, supple skin. Lay back and let your body sink into bliss.
Screams of ecstasy and squeals of delight are not the only ways you exude pleasure; simply the gentle purr of pure sensual contentment is all that is needed to show just how your body delights in my touch.
The delicate arch of your back, the softness of your oily skin, the way your tender curves embrace my hands… lay your femininity bare for me.
How such small movements can have such a devastatingly wonderful impact on another person.
A weekend all to herself, finally the chance to try out the PleasureTorture outcall service had presented itself. Having made the call and booked for the entire weekend, she started having second thoughts, though by this time, it was too late. As per the service she had chosen, there was no warning or introduction; as soon as the door was answered, she was stripped and tied. She was shaking, her heart pounding, yet even through wondering whether this was all a mistake, it somehow felt so perfect.
The first hour was pure bliss, not a word was spoken to her, all part of the package that had been chosen. Of course, after a couple of hours, the denial period would take its devastating effect; soon she’d be begging for an orgasm, begging for just a word or acknowledgement at all from the masked tormentor.
A weekend of orgasm denial and forced orgasms… once chosen, there is no going back. She had asked to be teased to the extreme, wordlessly brought to the brink until she was crying with need, then forced to endure orgasm after orgasm until the weekend was over. This was the service she asked for; it was the service she would undoubtedly receive.
The slow, deliberate trickle of oil against your bare skin sets your body and mind alight. So smooth and silky, you know that those warm palms can feel the stiffness of your nipples beneath them. Just like you were told, you keep your hands up above you, purring in anticipation for what is to come…
Never have you felt so wonderfully powerless, so completely helpless even without restraints. Fighting the burning desire to move, fighting to keep your arms above your head and your legs spread; both your body and mind in a state of submission.
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.