"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".
Anticipating the upcoming novel length story (currently editing the PDF layout while also uploading it chapter by chapter for Patreon supporters), here is a selection of stories (found here such as ‘Torment of Denial’ and ‘Two Participants’) presented in an easily accessible format. The link includes the ability to download in PDF format.
I will be using SmashWords as a means to present the story ‘Drawn to Desire’ upon it’s formatted completion.
I will be posting a section of the story before the release of it as well on here.
Recently a number of audio posts have been created, with one intended to be posted on here by the end of the week. A few others have been created in collaboration with a website I am working with. More information to come very soon.
You could have been cautious, though perhaps you wouldn’t have done a single thing differently.
For the first few days in college, you kept to yourself as you always had. Buried in your books as if raising your head would necessitate the need to interact with the world outside of them; a safe haven from the complications and discomfort that interactions can bring. It wasn’t that you didn’t occasionally look fondly at the relationships of others around you, it’s just that the fear of the unknown wouldn’t allow you to traverse outside the safe haven of your solitude.
‘The shy girl,’ that’s how Julia first referenced you. Few terms could make you withdraw further than being directly labelled as shy, yet the more Julia spoke to you throughout your first week in college, the more that you realised this person, who you deemed ‘the cool girl’, wanted to befriend you. It took a little while to coax you out of your shell a little more, yet the prospect of not just making a friend, but befriending one of the most popular people in college, allowed you to feel more accepted.
Often in the past you’d looked on, wanting to not just win people over but also be admired, yet too afraid of any imagined repercussions and confrontations to commit yourself and push past your fears of rejection. Yet here you were, the first couple of weeks of college and already friends with THE Julia.
You had known before when people’s eyes were lingering on you, since Julia befriended you, her remarks on how attractive you are helped you not only appreciate the gazes but also meet them head on. While you weren’t quite ready to actively hang around with Julia’s clique, you couldn’t deny that the thought of being amongst the popular group was enticing. Being around Julia had helped you realise that your interests and hobbies weren’t a cause to be the outsider – she shared many of the same likings. In fact, she admired your love of reading, writing and photography. For once your pastimes weren’t making you feel like the outsider.
Christmas eve, the flicker of a flame bathing her smooth skin, a mere ember compared to the inferno of need that raged within her. She swayed her hips a little, hoping to entice the man standing beside her at the foot of the bed, yet it was to no avail. Still his hands continued to massager her. Tantalizing her, his hands continued gliding along her back, caressing her raised ass cheeks, coursing along her sides, outlining the contours of her delicate frame. If only he’d touch her more instead of only teasing the sides of her breasts, instead of merely toying with the lips of her sex, so exposed and easy to penetrate.
Her pussy could get no wetter, so plump with arousal, doing all it could to invite those calculated fingers into that silky soft delicacy. Yet he was deliberate, there was still so much more time.
“Turn,” he whispered, gently, yet commanding.
She smiled as she turned, surely this would be the time?
As she turned over on the pillows, while he coated his fingers with more of the lubricant, she looked around for a clock. To her disappointment he had removed any indication of time, only his phone alarm would indicate when Christmas day officially arrived.
Now on her back, the mistletoe hung in full view above them – the cause for her predicament. He wanted her to see it once he filled her with disappointment again, denying her the fulfilment of giving her the orgasm she so desperately craved. With her hips raised by the pillows beneath, her womanhood was so fully presented to him, yet still he merely traced his fingertip around her mound.
Her body trembled as his fingers slowly and deliberately circled the stiff peaks of her nipples, threatening to give her the relief of pinching them, before stopping and tormenting her pussy once again. She finally broke down and began begging him once he toyed with her clitoris. The way he peeled back her clitoral hood to expose that tender morsel, before circling it cruelly, forced her to plead for the orgasm she had been torturously denied for so long. Just a pinch, the thrust of a finger – anything.
“Not until we kiss under the mistletoe.”
Her mind raced back to their Christmas work do, just a couple of days ago. How they’d been with their colleagues, standing together under the mistletoe when he leaned forward to kiss her. Her words becoming her own torment, ‘no mistletoe kisses until Christmas,’ she had said with a cheeky laugh. She had stopped him then, but right now she’d do anything for that kiss.
Clawing at the bed in the agony of desire, she had no idea how long until he’d make her come. 10 minutes? An hour? He’d tease her relentlessly for as long as it took.
All she was certain of was that when the time came, she knew exactly where she wanted him to kiss her.
Princess Sohia had quickly found that her fantasy and reality were not at all in sync. After the long and perilous journey from Helm to the Vaunt Empire, she was greeted not by the welcoming arms of her lover, but by guards and a swift imprisonment.
“You’ll be sorry if you don’t release me. Prince Tobias will not stand for this, he’ll punish you once he finds out I’m here.” Her protests and threats meant nothing to the guards.
She had expected to be led to the Prince once she had passed through the gates to the great empire of Vaunt. While always seen as a hostile territory to her own Kingdom, there had always been a certain level of respect for the majestic stone architecture which encompassed the mammoth realm she was now a captive of. At once she was separated from her personal guard and led towards the central castle. Led to a cell and imprisoned within the dungeons, she had hoped that the next person she would see would be Prince Tobias. Dangling from her shackled wrists held above her head, at the centre of the cell, Princess Sophia was approached by a group of women. With their plain white robes, she recognised these as the castle maidens. Accompanied by guards – who simply stood around the room and watched – the maidens stripped the captive and began bathing her. Sophia’s protestations did nothing to dissuade them. Neither the guards nor the maidens made any sound at all as sponges and hands soaped up and cleaned the completely naked girl.
They had learned many new incantations from the sex education classes, but this small group knew that there must be a genre of spells harvested from the dark arts to also try out… and so they were right.
The restricted area of the library was a treasure trove of wicked delights, though one book stood out, ‘The Darkest Arts – Sex Hexes Most Tormenting’. They were cautious at first, but upon closer inspection they realised just what kind of spells they were dealing with, and knew that they just had to master them and see them in action.
I stand here before you, watching you sway in the rhythm of your sexual longing. My words seem to still be echoing in your mind, telling you just how to masturbate yourself, making sure not to push you over the edge. I love thinking about how it must feel, to realise that if simply masturbating to the brink and stopping could feel so intense, intense enough to start begging me for mercy, just how will it feel for you once I take over. I’ve seen you at your most intimate, I know just how far I can push you.
“Again,” I command as you beg once more, taken to the limit of what your own touch can provide. Your waist bounces rapidly to the strum of your fingers, making my cock tense for a moment as I imagine what it would be like to feel you right now. To feel how your pussy must be convulsing after being nearly granted the climax that has been tantalising it for some time now. It takes all my willpower to not leap towards your tensing body, enticed by the little trail of your pussy juice which drips from your tender apex. Watching your arousal build to a visible trail of pleasure has kept me yearning to do so much more to you, but patience always yields the sweetest results.
The soothing hum of an air conditioner drifts through the office, filling the void of the girl’s hesitation at the question.“No, not for over two years,” she finally responds.
The interviewer makes a note. “Any encounters within this period?”
“…Yeah,” follows the pause.
“If you care to say so, roughly, how recently was this?”
A rustling of paperwork fills the moment’s silence as the young woman averts her gaze.
“It was – um, about …uh, 4 months ago.”
“Lastly, have you been looking for any further partners recently?” the interviewer asks softly, making sure not to offend or embarrass the gentle looking girl before him.
Lifting her deep blue eyes to his, she firmly states, “No, just enjoying my independence,” before giving a warm smile.
The interviewer smiles back and turns off the sound recorder on his desk which separates them both in the spacious, finely decorated office room. Laying down his notes methodically, he addresses the girl.
If she knew what he really was, she’d have run long ago. A being from a world that see’s humankind as toys to play with. A being possessing powers beyond human comprehension. A being that takes pure joy in deriving torture from pleasure.
It was the sensitivity within her body he could read that drew him to her as much as her beauty. Once he honed in on her at the club, there would be no way she could ignore that seductive gaze, an aura that seemed to hypnotize her.
Every part of her skin he touched seemed to light a fire of desire in that exact spot. She needed so much more. The more of her he touched, the more it seemed to intensify, like an electric surge of pleasure constantly sizzling throughout. It was like a magic touch; if only she knew. All she knew was that she needed him to touch her everywhere, to be inside her. At first she felt like the one in control, just as he wanted her to feel. When he was inside her, it was as if every fantasy in her life, every wet dream and sexual desire, had all built up to this moment as if preparing her for the ultimate pleasure.
His length seemed as if it were the only thing her pussy would ever need. No other man, no other toy or vibrator, had even come close to penetrating her or hitting that spot the way this was. The moment she was close however, was when something felt strange. The millisecond before her orgasm took hold of her, he pulled out. Yet instead of it stopping, the pleasure seemed to trap her. It still felt as if he were inside her, every inch pressing perfectly against her every sensitivity. She could not fathom what was happening, yet she couldn’t move or make a sound. Not because of any further spell by him, but because the sensation she was feeling was incomprehensible. Not even a minute passed before it was an unbearable hell. He had trapped her at the moment of climax, locked within that final convulsion before the pure joy was unleashed.
He simply sat and watched, enjoying his work. This was what he took such delight in, seeing human females brought to realms of unbearable pleasure. While gazing at this beautiful sight, he’d have told her that he may keep this going for hours if he desired, though she was too trapped within her hellish mixture of rapture and agony to hear or respond to anything. A minute hadn’t even passed, yet she was already in tears from this horrific limbo of denial and orgasm. It was like being forced to orgasm constantly, though without there being a true beginning or ending to the orgasm itself. That first single climactic surge, frozen in time.
It wouldn’t end until he penetrated her again. He was in no rush. This time of year, when his kind could roam freely around humans, only came for a few short weeks. He was going to make the most of it.
Overcome by a sudden urge to pleasure herself, Melissa stripped and began stroking her sensitive pussy like her life depended on it. Even though it usually took a while for her to get into things and start to get close, this time it seemed like the flames of orgasm were rising within the very moment her fingers swept over her delicate mound. She couldn’t believe how wet she was, yet there was no time to ponder what had caused this outburst of desire, all that mattered was that she came.
It was mere seconds for her to feel ready to come. Minutes soon passed. Still there was no end, as if she were trapped in that same cycle of arousal with no outlet. No matter how fast she stroked or how intently her fingers pressed, whether she slid inside or just honed in on her clitoris, Melissa could not overcome the pinnacle. The more she tried, the more she needed it, like a well of pleasure with no limit to what it could hold. She had no idea how long she had been masturbating, but tears of frustration began to form. It soon seemed as if every sexual scenario and erotic fantasy had been cycled through her mind. Nothing seemed enough to tip her over the edge.
It was too intense of a need to give up, yet when she decided to try and have a moment of rest, to see if a break would help, that was when she realised that she couldn’t stop. As hard as she tried, her hands would not pull away. Over and over she willed herself to relent, all to be met with the same constant friction against her engorged clitoris. It must have been an hour of being held in this state, sweat lining her body and her pussy dripping a constant stream of arousal. Once she had given in however, when it wouldn’t have mattered if the entire neighborhood walked in on her and watched, that the words formed in her mind.
“Such a luscious feast to delight in. Do not fight against it Melissa, as I will reward you with that which you crave.”
The voice seemed distant, yet it was whispered to her as if a thought within her own mind. While her eyes remained closed, Melissa could feel a presence above her, a presence which seemed to communicate with her own thought.
“Yes, I am controlling your every movement and sensation. No, begging will not help you. You will not come, Melissa, until your pleasure has satisfied my appetite. I have not fed in quite some time. Patience.”
With that, her arms and legs were spread out as if entrapped by restraints. While her own contact with her sopping wet pussy had ceased, the pulsating sensation of being on the brink did not. Neither did the constant contractions of need or the twitching of her swollen clit. This Being which Melissa could not see was able to read her every thought, thus sensing every minute sensation. It was these pleasures that it fed on; tonight it was going to gorge on her. By not letting her come, it could take all the time it wanted. Letting the pleasure seep as if whetting its appetite, suckling on every drip of sensation like it were lapping away at the torrent of her flowing pussy juices.
Honing in on her deepest fantasies, the feeling of multiple hands massaged every inch of her body. Always stopping just a hair’s breadth away from the sensitive spots that needed to be touched most. Her nipples, which soon were screaming for attention, soon got what they needed once the possibility arose of her coming down from the highest points of frustration. Keeping her so close to the edge without relief, a pull on her nipples made her arch in shock. The Being could read everything her body needed to stay centered on the verge of orgasm. What felt like tiny tendrils snaked around her nipples like a lasso trapping them, pulling ever tighter when she became accustomed to the sensation. Suddenly, what could only be perceived as an oil dipped paintbrush, or even wet silk, was slipping over the tips of those painfully stiff nipples. Melissa cried out loudly, partly at what could be felt right then, but also at the thought of how horrifyingly wonderful this would feel on her clitoris. She wondered for a moment that there would be no way it could stop her from coming then, maybe even the chance to will herself to climax.
“Do not underestimate me, foolish girl.”
At that moment her clitoral hood was peeled back even further to expose the entirety of that tender morsel. Melissa then let out a scream that seemed to never cease, wailing into the blank void until she couldn’t tell whether the screams and whimpers were being vocalised or just in her head. All caused by the feeling of a single tendril wrapping around her exposed clitoris and kneading it constantly. She could not believe that she wasn’t coming just after the first second of this torment. The telepathic being was able to keep her in this state, for as long as it wished to feed, with no mental or physical harm. After hours of this torture, it was ready to enjoy the main course.
“Such a delicacy.”
Melissa wasn’t able to tell the difference whether the sensations were physical or just implanted through her mind, yet when a tentacle plunged within her depths, the reaction was the same. Every inch of her body seemed to freeze in shock as the orgasm was thrust upon her with no warning. The tentacle itself was covered in nubs that vibrated within, pressing against just the right places. It twisted and writhed within her in ways that made her body erupt. This was clearly not about simulating sex, this was all about bringing her to heights that would have made any other human faint if not for this thing keeping her constantly awake and aware. To keep itself fed, it was not going to ever let Melissa have the mercy of unconsciousness. The being fed on her pleasure joyously, her climax a most fulfilling feast. It made her come again, then again, until she could not even think. A world populated by nothing but the most intense of pleasures. Every time it seemed like the sensations would cease a little, The Being switched its methods, changing from caressing her nipples and clitoris to sucking them within silky wet mouths. Pinching, tweaking, thrusting and massaging, always stimulating and never subsiding.
“I think I’ll be full in a few hours.”
Even through the confines of her orgasmic hell, it made sure Melissa understood precisely how long she’d have to endure this.