The Gift

You do as you were told in the dream. On Christmas Eve, you had dreamt of him, the absolute picture of your fantasies as if he were there with you in the flesh. After the most wonderful of dreams, filled with passion and eroticism, you woke up, wishing it were real. However, you recalled his one request as if it were whispered in your ear directly.

‘On Christmas, place your hands above your head and close your eyes. I’ll stay with you until you open your eyes.’

When you also opened up a gift beneath your Christmas tree – one you didn’t recognise – and saw that it contained nothing but a note stating, ‘Remember, keep your eyes closed,’ you knew it must be real. It couldn’t have been merely a dream.

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That complete loss of control, it is what you desire most.

Knowing you cannot stop that constant, burning pleasure, that near the unendurable pulse of the vibrator, that relentless ache of every impending orgasm. Even the slightest give in the restraints feels almost too lenient. You want it to hold you even tighter, and make you suffer even more through every agonising wave of ecstasy. That gushing, white-hot pleasure that keeps you screaming isn’t enough to crush the need for more and more. Only when the flood of sensation starts to almost hurt that you feel the need to say it’s getting too much, though just as you had hoped from the beginning, there is no chance of it stopping. Your body will give out far before your mind’s need for torturous pleasure can be fulfilled. You will always suffer so much for what you love most.

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Punished

If you do well, you get rewarded; if you do badly, you get punished.

This was the simple, unwavering stance of the cheerleading team, yet still, Sarah pleaded with all her heart for their forgiveness without having to endure what she feared. It had only been a simple matter of a misstep, yet on the field, in front of such a large audience, before the final game of the season, it was noticeable; ‘noticeable’ was more than reason enough to suffer the wraith of the team.

The coach and her two top cheerleaders always took much pleasure in giving the punishments. Sarah knew this all too well. The slightest mistake from any member would earn such cruel attention, yet Sarah seemed to be most regularly targeted by the coach and her chosen disciplinarians. 

Barely any time after the night was over and the game had finished, Sarah was summoned into a section of the changing room that the coach had set up just for these occasions. No time was wasted as they stripped her, telling her that she knew why she needed this, why the team needed this. The familiar feeling leather cuffs were fastened to her wrists – to be held up by the coach while her legs were kept spread by the spreader bar. It had been the biggest game of the season, the final match, and to make a mistake under such scrutiny was unforgivable; they were going to make her come until she could not stand.

Sarah was wise enough now to hold no protest, yet still, the desire to close herself to such intense stimulation was overbearing – though no matter how much she tried, they kept her body spread open for their wicked delights. The vibrator made little work of her attempts to halt what she knew would come, the maw of tortured pleasure that would ensnare her and never let go. Even before the first orgasm, the sensitivity of her sex against the devastating pulsations was nearly unbearable; once the orgasm hit her with all its force, she was thrown into a descent of hellish pleasure. They held her tight, making sure to give not even a second of remorse. No matter how much she begged and told them she could not come anymore, they worked her back towards another. Sarah felt as if her own body was forging an alliance against her, cruelly making her endure each orgasm after the other, each more unendurable than the last. Throughout every shudder of her limbs, through the constant convulsing of her body, the coach and her fellow punishers gave no respite, keeping Sarah held open for the vibrator to continue until either she passed out or her body could no longer give them the orgasms which they so longed to always see.

Sarah knew they would not stop, no matter how much she screamed through every orgasm and the following over-stimulation, which always cruelly led to another; they loved seeing her tortured with pleasure. This was a punishment she’d not forget any time soon. 

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Haunted House (Stephanie)

Toys Multiple-Orgasms Bondage. Stephanie couldn’t decide what fantasy turned her on the most, the waiver form showing clearly that she had many desires on her mind. The Haunted House did not want to deny her any satisfaction.

When Stephanie and the remaining companions entered a room full of smoke, they all started to become drowsy.

“We need to get out of here,” yelled one of her friends.

As they all began to sprint through the room, a case of the blind following the blind as they aimlessly pressed onward, Stephanie became sluggish and fell behind, succumbing the most to the effects of the smoke, which seemed to possess the quality of sleeping gas. Once the rest of the group exited the room, only just about making it out before giving in to unconsciousness, they realised Stephanie was gone. They did not dare venture back, leaving the sleeping girl to whatever fate the haunted house had in store for her.

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More Than You Can Endure

You said you wanted to be put through more pleasure than you have ever endured, more orgasms than you had ever dared strive for.

There is no turning back now. The Sybian stays tied to you while you lie there helplessly. If you could think straight, you’d be thinking of how you should have requested a break when it became too much, but right now, your very thoughts are flooded by the shuddering vibrations between your thighs.

Every 5 minutes it gets turned up higher. You can struggle as much as you like. After all, this is what you wanted, to be tortured with pleasure until you’d do anything to fight it off… you’ve got your wish.

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Twenty-Five

I remember when we were out in public, and you whispered to me in that sultry little voice of yours, “If I wanted you to give me 25 orgasms right now, what would you do?” I didn’t answer, I just looked at you, and I know that even now, you haven’t forgotten that wicked, devilish smile and intense look I gave you.

It didn’t take long for me to get the chance to show you just what I would do, the chance to get you alone here, to tape you up in just the way that makes you tingle inside.

How did it feel to have that first orgasm denied? To think you were going to feel the first of 25 orgasms in an instant hit you hard, only to feel the vibrator pull away. However it felt, I could certainly hear the anguish in every moan for me to give it to you, pleading with me to stop teasing you once I had done it a further 10 times. After denying you of 25 orgasms in succession, it was clear that you never expected to be put in this kind of state, in such desperate need for the orgasms you had whispered for. I was consistent; not only did I deny every single orgasm right at the final moment, but I also made you beg for it after every single one.

Now I am going to use this vibrator on its highest setting and not move it away from you. I am going to make you come 25 times in a row, just like how you wanted. The thing is, I’m not going to give you any rest. This vibrator isn’t going to move away from your pussy for a second.

Now… this blindfold can stay on, just so you can focus even more on these powerful vibrations, concentrating on that delicate little part of your body. Every single time you tell me that it is too intense, that you want me to stop, I am going to remind you that you begged me for every single one.

Yes, I can hear you… but you begged me to give them to you, remember? Every. Single. Orgasm.

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“We know how these lustful thoughts, these erotic visions, always cloud your mind… how they seem to rule your life… we can cure you, we can set you free of the constant search for stimulation. Let us help you.”

Every day she knew it was to come, yet never could she truly prepare herself for what was in store for her. Like clockwork, she moaned out and screamed to no avail.

Locked away in the unit, she was completely at their mercy, succumbing to their ‘therapy’ every single day. Restrained and helpless, the powerful vibrator fastened against her swollen, red, delicate pussy for what must have been hours at a time. They said it was to cure her, to exorcize the cravings for sex, yet the end never seemed in sight.

In the night, she would hear the screams of pleasure from others like her, the echoes of lust; by the morning, she knew it was soon to be her turn.

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