"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".
Vicky had intended to see how long she could last without masturbating, a personal challenge to stave off her own desires, so when her university friends had proposed the idea, she was entirely on board: to go the month of November without allowing herself any sexual release. If only she knew quite what she was in for.
Being very sensitive to stimulation, Vicky had often found it difficult to hold back from coming. Even with several friends with benefits at her university who she hooked up with regularly, she still found the most comfort in her private moments of masturbation, which were numerous throughout the week. The prospect of holding off for a week or two seemed daunting yet rather erotic, having to endure an entire month sounded like nothing more than pure torture. She liked the idea of such a challenge.
Her friends had fit her with a special heart rate monitor on both wrists, sealed in order to ensure she couldn’t remove either without them knowing. The devices would be able to alert for any spikes in heart rate along with being able to map out hand movement below waist level, ensuring they’d know within the month if she masturbated to orgasm. Vicky however had no intention of trying to cheat, she wanted to last.
Tonight, she will experience nothing but hell, it would make absolutely sure of that…
After a very entertaining Halloween night, she had woken late in the afternoon, her hangover not nearly as bad as expected. Having hoped to have hooked up with someone, the trace of unfulfilled desire mixed with the idea to masturbate as a cure for her faint headache had meant for a powerful sexual cocktail. As she started playing, fantasizing about a man holding her down on the ground and masturbating her, she realised that there was a blindfold laid out amongst the remnants of last nights outfit. Keen to further augment her fantasy of being dominated a little by her fantasy lover, she quickly put the blindfold on. The moment it went on, her fate for the rest of the day and night was sealed.
A sudden burst of indescribable need forced its way throughout her body, a longing that seemed impossible, a sexual torment far beyond the realm of mortal torture. Though what made it even more maddening was that, at that moment when every ounce of her very being wanted nothing more on earth than to masturbate herself into a frenzy, her hand would not respond – it was being controlled by something else.
It was no accident that this blindfold, a cursed item, had found its way to her. While she would never know how it came to be in her possession, whoever had placed it on her had known just how much torment would befall the recipient once they wore it.
The blindfold, as soon as it was put on, took all control away from the hands of the wearer. All she could do was writhe her hips and hope that control would return, while the entity within the blindfold maintained its direction over her fingertips. The true horror of the cursed item however, was something which would torment this girl beyond anything humanly possible: every time that a woman had been forced to be brought to the edge with the blindfold, that sensation had been stored within it, meaning that every time a new person wore it, they experienced the build up of every moment prior. This girl was now being tortured with the feeling of hundreds of moments of being right on the edge of orgasm, all at the same time, coursing within her – the sensation of a thousand pinnacles of orgasm rushing through her at once, a hell beyond description. She could not scream, she could barely moan, it took all her effort to even breathe with the unfathomable, agonising pleasure tearing her body and mind apart. Though the cruelest of all was that even with this horrific need forced upon her, the entity would not masturbate her, instead it simply made her hand tease her sensitive pussy relentlessly.
For over an hour, it traced slow fingers, brushing and sweeping over and around her pussy and breasts, all over her body, never giving her what she needed, her streaming tears of desperation doing nothing to tide the cruel torment.
Her pussy juice flowed in a non-stop torrent, her body unable to comprehend the inferno of aching need, as if she had melted into a pool of indistinguishable pleasure. She would surely die from this kind of feeling, though it certainly would not let that happen, this vessel of female bliss was far too delightful. The fingers continued to trail idly along her sex. Once whatever controlled her hand finally began to masturbate her, she was met with another level of horror – it would not let her come. As much as it felt like she’d explode from it, as much as she felt that she’d die from the intensity of an orgasm from all of this inside, there was no release from the anguish. Her suffering would continue for hours, with her fingers relentlessly masturbating herself, every time she’d have normally climaxed simply adding to the whirlwind of countless orgasms pent up within. In any other state of mind, she’d fear just how intense an orgasm from this would feel, though right now, all she feared was how long it would take until orgasmic release came. It would be a long time before she found out.
Hannah had known that there were traps within the cavern to stop treasure hunters in their tracks, though she was never expecting to be apprehended by an organic entity. The centuries-old mechanisms she had navigated through seemed to be a way to detract her attention from the slow moving entity. All the mass of tentacles needed was to lay patiently in waiting for its unsuspecting prey.
It quickly became apparent that it had no intention to kill her. After an hour of struggling and unsuccessfully trying to escape its clutches, she soon came to find that a quick death or even torture was not its goal – or at least not the kind of torture she had feared.
Once it had finally stripped and secured its new prisoner, it was free to show her how this long forgotten civilisation punished those who dared seek out their treasures.
It took its time turning her fear into arousal, armed with hundreds of years of experience honing its skills on the human anatomy. After an hour, Hannah was writhing, all thoughts of escape had been rendered mute by such deliberated seduction. It was too dark to make out the minute details of the guardian, though it had absolutely no trouble in tantalising the minute details of her own body. It read her every desire as if each one of her movements were its very own script. Tiny tendrils snaked across her body and teased every sensitivity. Her mind’s eye could not keep up with the ways it explored between her thighs. Through such disgust and fear, the creature knew just how to cause her body to betray her; it had much experience in making one lose themselves to the desires of the flesh. So many tendrils caressed the lips of her sex while others sought out the delicate jewel nestled within, slowly circling until her clitoris was pulsating with arousal.
While Hannah tried fruitlessly to escape the clutch of her captor, deep down she wondered, with how much this thing was tapping into her most intimate desires, if she’d have even ran at all. If only she knew what was to come, perhaps she’d have tried so much harder. She of course knew that this was to ward off explorers, but still was not sure why it was treating her to such a whirlwind of pleasure, seducing her body like the most attentive of lovers. As time went on though, and as it continued to arouse her without pushing towards making her come, she’d soon understand that this was the punishment itself.
It would not give her the respite of caressing that sensitive clitoris the way she needed. For so long it had toyed with that little morsel, causing her hips to sway in a desperate bid to communicate that it had won her over. Instead those little tendrils continued to caress her folds like cruel fingertips, as if taking joy from every twitch of anticipation, while those at her clitoris slid and prodded tenderly like one hundred tongues all playing with their meal.
The more it went on, the more it learnt about her, and how to keep her teetering on the edge. Suddenly came the little strokes of a phallus against her soft, wet petals, just pushing to that twitching opening. Always enough to make her hope for more though still it would not offer relief, keeping her pussy constantly dripping without any sign of penetration. Each time the tip of that large appendage pressed to her, Hannah felt what seemed to be soft little cilia moving autonomously, completely covering that bulbous head. It wreaked havoc on her to imagine what that would feel like if only it slid inside, to be fucked while having them stroke right against the most sensitive parts within.
Once it started to vibrate, to have her feel every ridge and groove writhe, she begged and pleaded like her life depended on it – all to no response. It simply kept the wondrous tip just far enough away to let her feel it press her pussy lips apart every time she gyrated her hips against it. Feeling the little cilia-like structures oscillate just at her opening, swaying a little as if trying to slip a little further into her pussy, was truly maddening. This tentacle based life-form was more intelligent than Hannah ever expected to find here; it was actively toying with her, and it wanted her to know that her efforts to fight against it were hopeless.
Another, more human-like phallus was introduced to her other lips, to feel those thick, pulsing inches against her tongue. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks as she imagined how that motion of penetration would feel for her agonizingly teased pussy. The way it let a sucker-tipped tentacle devour her nipples seemed to drive the point home: it knew what she craved and wanted her to think about how much more it could do.
Even just the slight teasing motions around her clitoris, the occasional hum of pleasure to her pussy, was enough to bring her towards the pinnacle. Adding the suction to her nipples flung her right to the edge. It drew her nipple up and lavished that stiff peak with numerous tongue-like sensations, all in a bid to make sure she never lost focus of what it could do to such a small part of her body. Every time she got close however, it kept her on the brink for as long as she could possibly take – slowing the motion of the tendrils and backing off with the buzzing phallus.
She knew full well that her pleas had no effect, yet when the tendrils peeled back her clitoral hood to let another sucker brush over the tip, she still screamed out every promise and plea her mind could muster, just to feel it clamp down on it.
Once the sucker did finally snatch that engorged nub into its fold to suck relentlessly, the tentacles would have to tighten their grip on Hannah as every muscle tensed and strained in shock and joy. Though that would not be for quite some time. The tentacle beast had grown accustomed to the the many ways of teasing humans to the brink of insanity. With so much time spent alone and undisturbed, it made the most of its one and only activity.
She would not be saved from this torture. It knew how to suckle against and draw pleasure from every nerve ending in her clitoris. It knew how to explore every inch of her pussy and devour the joy of her G-spot. It knew how to keep her skin aflame with need and her breasts heaving in constant anticipation. It was going to take its time showing her the depths of pleasure too hellish to believe. To make her weep at the decision to ever enter this place.
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.
It was her turn tonight, to be taken in just the way she had heard the other girls be taken night after night. They were all there to experience the most intense of orgasms, to have him study their responses after various lengths of masturbation free nights; they adored his dedication to the exploration of female pleasure.
This night was hers, time for the other girls to lie awake and try desperately to stem the desire for their fingertips to wander at the sounds of moans and screams of passion, the sounds of flesh against flesh. He of course knew how much they craved the touch, knowing that each time he played with them, the deepest secrets of their sexuality were being unravelled by him. His appetite to explore the boundaries of their pleasure simply grew more each time.
Tonight he was to do as he always did, to bring her to a place beyond pleasure, to tease her past the pinnacle of longing, knowing that she indulged in every second of it. His whispers were to melt her thoughts, his soft, slow touches were to turn her body to vapour at his fingertips.
“I know that soft, dripping wet pussy hasn’t been played with for so long, I know that when I expose that twitching little clitoris, you are going to be begging me to touch more. If you carry on being a good girl like you have been for the last few days, to restrain yourself from touching, to keep those sweet lips spread for my fingertips, to keep your hands away from the rest of your body and leave me solely to stimulate you, I will reward you by finger fucking you hard. Just think of how if my fingers can do all that to you, how will it feel when soon my throbbing hard cock is pushing against that little entrance, ready to slide deep inside and fuck you hard”.
She had never expected to experience such torment, to repeatedly feel the sensations that continued to ebb away at her will-power.
Every night she turned up, like a moth to a flame. The advertisement had requested a female to be used for the class of massage students to practice on. She had not expected them to practice on her all at once, every night to be touched so much by so many soft, oily hands.
The massage instructor had told her not to masturbate for the duration of the week so that she remained most sensitive and responsive. The need overwhelmed her night after night, yet she somehow managed to hold out after every class. The thought of holding herself back was not only a challenge she wanted to succeed in, it was also something that had aroused her the moment she was first told it – the thought of trying to contain her own desires.
Each night she lay on the massage table as they circled around, each caressing her body and sliding their hands sensually all over. The girls took so much pleasure in arousing their subject, knowing that such a long, sensual massage – night after night – must have been unbearable. Occasionally one or two of them would let their fingertips brush against the lips of her sex, taking much delight in letting her arousal simmer, though never giving her the exploration she began to internally beg for. They kept gliding their palms so gently and slowly along the girl’s body, always working in unison to constantly stoke the flame.
Her mind could not follow the patterns of so many hands; soon it became a constant motion of erotic sensations sweeping over her skin.
By the end of the week, the classes, as well as the indescribable need afterwards, had become torture… yet still she went, with only one more night left.
Writhe, struggle, tense every muscle, it all makes no difference, I will still show no mercy. How does it feel knowing that I can feel every sensation that you experience? How does it feel knowing that I am in control of every touch?
You feel like a puppet on strings as I once again control your fingers to work faster, feeling your body draw to the very edge of an orgasm, before I make those fingers slow down, keeping you constantly held on the brink, riding it out repeatedly and so cruelly.
In your mind you continue to beg me over and over, pleading with me to stop torturing you with denial, yet still I simply reply with erotic whispers trailing through your consciousness. I once again tell you that I had always wanted to experience the intensity of the sensations a girl must feel when she gets close; now that I have taken control of your body for the night, to share it and feel your pleasure, I will make the most of it, I will push you beyond anything any human has ever experienced before. You aren’t the first girl I have taken control of and teased for the night, for her to wake up and think it was a dream, though you will certainly suffer so much more than any of the others have.
My last whispers in your mind make you wish you could wake up…
“If this is what it feels like to keep this body on the edge of orgasm for two hours, I look forward to feeling what it is like after ten more of them”.