"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".
It’s all about the anticipation – knowing why you are there, knowing what is to come. What adds to the intensity is realising that it is all merely the beginning. The agonising need, the craving as every inch of you burns for more… it is simply to whet the appetite. Every time it stops, each moment that is taken away, soon you’ll be screaming out for those brief seconds of respite.
“That’s it, good girl. I know you haven’t come in over a week but your master made it clear that if you moan or make any sound from my touch, you’ll have to wait another week before you have another chance for that sweet release. I could do this to you all day. Isn’t it so hot to have him watch you while I do whatever I want to you? You are doing very well to keep quiet.”
“Well you made it, very well done. Still, you aren’t going to get off that easily. You have to hold back your orgasm for another 10 minutes, otherwise, if your master sees you coming, you will spend the next 3 weeks being teased by me without any orgasm. I really want the chance to see you suffer like that, so I’m not going to go easy on you now. Come for me and your master and embrace your punishment, I know you can’t take any more.”
This is the new art exhibit which has stirred up a lot of attention for the gallery. Patrons can only watch this art instillation from behind a one way mirror while she sits restrained on the other side. There is much to admire about this astounding display of female pleasure, though the sense of interactivity also generates much delight for the visitors. The instillation – entitled ‘voir les anges’ – allows patrons to not only freely observe the artistry of female pleasure, but also contribute, using a switch that controls the intensity of the vibrator that constantly stimulates her.
This truly innovative piece not only captures the raw sensuality of femininity, it also explores the desires of those that observe it, exploring our nature to grant as well as deny pleasure. Restrained within the soundproofed room, this exhibit remains at the whim and mercy of human desire.
Wracked with the ever intoxicating cocktail of nervousness and excitement, she was shaking as they shackled her wrists and ankles, leaving her hanging in the restraints, spread and completely at the mercy of the facility. She had an idea of what kind of cruel delights they may have had in store for her, yet the anticipation of what was to come, even though she knew how pleasurable it should be, was still overwhelming.
The facility had quite the reputation for bringing girls to their limits of sexual endurance, which is why there was not only always a surge in demand for whatever new product they were unveiling, but also a surge in requests to be involved in the testing process.
It was clear that this new applicant was very nervous and somewhat apprehensive, yet the moment when the lead research analyst began smearing the latest chemical product over her, those shivers of nerves gave way to shivers of pure physical arousal. The lotion had been made to bring about the highest levels of female sexual arousal from merely making contact with the skin; they made sure to test it most thoroughly on this gorgeous guinea pig, smearing it all over her from neck to toe. It took less than 30 seconds before the girl was breathing heavily and moaning with the need for more stimulation, yet the researcher continued to apply it.
Even without any sexual stimulation, with only the faintest touches and strokes from having the oil applied, the girl’s heart was thumping as her body continued to burn more and more with need: somehow her pussy was twitching and convulsing even though they had barely just started. With every second, the heat within her rose until finally the application of the oil stopped. The unbearable need did not die down, the oil caused for the sensations to continuously intensify even as the analyst left the girl, hanging restrained and stewing in her maddening arousal. Only when the rest of them circled her did she realise that the application of the oil was merely the beginning of her teasing torment.
The research had been scheduled to last the duration of the day.
Every tender curve of your skin, the smoothness of your delicate body, the sweet softness of your sex, the way you moan with every surge of pleasure and cry out to the delicacy of every orgasm. It is as if every aspect of your sexuality threatens to consume you, the unyielding need to have your fantasies completely explored.
When you explore yourself alone, you stop yourself when it gets that bit too intense; as you slide your arms out and arch your back, you fantasise about what is to come, the thrill of allowing somebody else to push you further. The desire courses through you as you feel your wrists press together, waiting to be restrained, waiting to let the building passion inside you be released. There is a sense of freedom in allowing yourself to embrace new realms of stimulation. With every touch that feels too intense to bear and every orgasm that leaves you trembling in agonised ecstasy, there will be no way to stop anything… free to lose yourself in bliss.
You want to feel those hands being held back, feeling helpless – to have your sex explored beyond your limits and be pushed into heights of pleasure past your endurance. The thoughts alone seem to impact on every inch of skin, your imagination echoing along your body; the trail of fingertips tracing along your chest and down your cleavage, across your breasts, slowly down between your thighs. The fingertips give way to palms caressing you, the palms give way to lips pressing to you, and the lips give way to a tongue tantalising you. Something within you seems to melt – anticipation has such devastating effect.
Every morsel of you burns with a deep desire, the quickening beat of your heart and the intensifying pulse between your thighs. Your imagination is trapped within the writhing prison of your body. While your mind races with lust, a sense of weightlessness drifts over your skin, so beautifully designed to submit to the most intense of pleasures. You are free to give in to the experiences your mind craves.
At the mercy of their patient hands, she must not say a single word. She had passed all of the previous tests and trials, though this final one was always going to test her resolve the most in a completely different way.
There is always the possibility of being apprehended, therefore as a female warrior, they had to make sure she was completely prepared for whatever she might encounter in future. While she could defend herself in countless ways, there was always the fact that as a woman, her enemies may choose to focus their attentions on her femininity, to take advantage of the devastating responsiveness of her sexuality. To make sure that she was prepared for this, the final test called for her to prove her ability not to give in to the demands of her body, to control her responses.
She hadn’t been told how long the ordeal would last; it seemed as if their cruelly precise fingertips and palms became slower as time progressed, yet all she can do is try her hardest to stifle her agonising desire to give in, to cry out for more.
Dominating you with words alone – a phone call that makes hours feel like minutes.
The familiarity of your own touch with the commanding presence of another person sets you on fire. You slide your fingertips along your body imagining they were his, listening to every word, every order, as if he were in the room with you. With that presence you will push yourself more than you ever could alone. You masturbate to his voice, stopping and starting whenever told, wanting him to hear the longing, the need and the desperation in your voice, wanting to turn him on just as much with every moan and whimper, waiting for him to say the word… ‘Come!’
You hear the urges in your mind as if they are my whispered instructions.
You want to give in to that warm depth, to sink within the delights of your own body; the urge to bring yourself to orgasm right now overwhelms you. Your body glistens, so sleek, soft, and wet, imagining these hands soaping up every inch of your body, sliding down smoothly between your thighs.
You see those ripe, swollen, shining breasts, thinking how slippery and supple they would feel within my grasp. The thought of them being groped and fondled sends a surge through to the peaks of your nipples.
You hold off for as long as you can, until your body screams for a deeper touch. Keeping those fingers working slowly, slipping to your depths and back out, you caress the soft wet petals of your entrance. Giving in to your own desires, the thought of being finger-fucked intensely seems to possess your body, as if it were controlled by my own hands, drilling you relentlessly. The swish of water thumps through the room as the wet slaps of your fingers penetrating yourself pushes your body beyond the abyss of pleasure.
Your body trembles as you fantasize of your body as a victim of lust, fingers that would be curling inside you and feeling the wet silk of your quivering sex, not stopping or slowing down as you shake in the waves of an unyielding orgasm.
The picture floods your mind… a hand pressed to your chest, holding you back, the other between your thighs, fingering you with merciless intensity, fingers curled and pushing up within you to make sure every stroke against the rough little patch of your g-spot makes you scream out. As soon as you come back to reality, you will want to disappear back to the confines of pleasure just as fast.
Every time you look down between your thighs, you will know that sweet pussy is mine to command, every whispered instruction will set your mind alight.