"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."
The flame of pleasure once again scorches through her, though again it is not enough. All she can do is grind up and down on the rock-hard member that continues to feed on her ecstasy. The demons needed her to continue, and they wouldn’t be satisfied until they had their fill.
Every year she had to perform the same ritual for the sake of her village. There was no telling what these beings would do if they were unleashed upon the village to search and satiate their appetite, so she did what she must every year – offer herself as the sacrifice to their lustful needs.
For the entire night, they use her body one after the other, caressing, groping and penetrating her, each year growing more accustomed to just what turns her on the most. Although she is used to it now, however, the first time was quite a shock, a level of torment that she had not expected. The demons fed solely off of her pleasure, therefore, every time she came, that orgasm was sapped from her into the beings. Not only was the orgasm taken from her in the sense of its energy, but also the very sensation itself, meaning that every time she came, only the first millisecond of it could be felt before it was stolen so cruelly from her. The first couple of years were torture – when she had originally submitted herself to be the martyr of the village – now she knew exactly what to expect, though it never made it any easier to withstand.
In order to build up enough sexual energy for it, she abstained from sex for most of the year, meaning she came very few times throughout the year, making it all the more difficult to endure this torment of being kept from experiencing a full orgasm. The demons, of course, seemed to enjoy this sense of torment, making sure she had little rest. There was no denying that it was a pleasure, unlike anything else, for her to be the very centre of such sexual energy, to have her own body being the object of their lust and very being. Even the minuscule bout of pleasure from the orgasm torn from her was enough to keep her wanting the next – if only they’d give her respite just once, to let her enjoy it just that one time.
This is the new art exhibit which has stirred up a lot of attention for the gallery. Patrons can only watch this art installation 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 but 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.
At this moment, she is nothing but a helpless exhibition of lust.
The show had been a hit for the night, the audience all applauding at every expected moment, yet the erotic dancing and the simulated displays of passion were all merely a warm-up for the main act.
After an evening of enjoyable yet light entertainment, the audience was anticipating what they had been truly waiting for, ready for the curtains to open once more for the final show.
Silence descended over the room as the curtains opened, revealing the nameless starlet, hanging helplessly and exposed to the female teaser standing beside her, ready to give the crowd what they wanted. A wet, tantalising heat seemed to radiate from the stage as the teaser wordlessly began her work.
The audience sat in silence, appreciating the beauty before them, each devouring the visual splendour, soothed with the delicious whimpers of arousal drifting through the room like the softest notes of music ever played. The starlet could not stop herself from whimpering and moaning with pleasure while the silence of the audience – locked in awed concentration – seemed to amplify the sound of every wet slap to her pussy. Every stroke and teasing touch made her shiver in need of more, yet she knew that the teaser was not here to give her such relief: the audience was here to see much more.
The teaser knew just when to hold back and just when to push a little further, just when to nibble the girl’s pussy lips and just when to push forward and suck on her clitoris hard. The only time the audience made any noise was when murmurs of appreciation spread amongst them once the starlet began to beg. This is exactly what the audience had come to see, desire at its rawest, at its purest, at its most intense.