"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."
Unseen forces carry out your most erotic fantasies in this erotic-horror audio tease.
Just as you’ve requested from the invisible beings every night, you hear whispers of erotic scenarios while being sensually touched. If only they’d give you more attention…
Written version below
Continue reading The Whispers
Never a warning, never a sign of any change, yet it was always the same day: October 31st.
She always ensured she stayed at home, the intoxicating aroma of dread, arousal and anticipation in the air, keeping her in the house every night on this date as if a prisoner in her own home.
It was always the same pattern. She would lie in bed, drifting off into the arms of sleep, when the night was at its most still and silent, the moonlight always shining through as if to bathe her in the most erotic glow for the unseen intruder, a preemptive spotlight.
At first, it was simply a gentle tease, like the softest of fingertips slowly alerting her body, tracing up and down her frame and waking both her mind and senses. It brought about feelings that made her want to touch herself, though whatever it was, it never allowed her to do such a thing. It wanted her pleasure brought about by itself alone.
Not once was a sound made except for her own breathing. Even after all this time, she still couldn’t stop herself from calling out to it, even though she knew there would be no reply. That moment was always when things began to get too much… it always became too much by the end.
Continue reading 10/31
Tonight is going to be a long, long night.
She had bought the house having been warned against the strange occurrences within, knowing that the man who had previously rented it spoke of strange whispers and had sensed other presences within. She, however, thought little of this foolishness. Though after living there for over a month, the rumours proved quite true.
She had been masturbating before it happened, thinking of being fucked hard and fast by different men, getting so close to climax at the thought of such intense penetration. When she was on the verge, however, she suddenly blacked out. It only felt like a second later that she awoke in the bed, yet now she was wearing some other attire, her body uncovered, her wrists restrained to the bed, helpless.
The sensation of being near climax still somehow tingled throughout her body, yet there was nothing she could do to relieve the desire. After a moment, the whispers began; whispers of pure sexual desire, of how erotic she looked, how much they wanted to fuck her. Suddenly a blindfold slipped over her eyes as she called out, begging the invisible entities to let her go – still, they merely whispered their desires.
Her fear began to give way to astonishment as the sensation of cool fingertips caressed her body, lightly tracing every inch. After an hour of this, her fear had been entirely replaced by pure need. The blindfold kept her constantly in a state of uncertainty, locked in her own imagination, while the non-stop light as a feather touches kept her aching for more.
Hours went by like this, being constantly touched and teased without relief. She begged, screamed, and cried out for more, yet still the presences that feasted on her arousal seemed content to let her writhe in anguish.
After many more hours, they began to focus on those most sensitive little areas; the sensation of fingertips, tongues and lips trailing over her nipples, the unbearable sensitivity of her soaking wet sex, and her aching, pulsating clitoris.
Having resigned herself to this cruel fate, she realises that nothing will stop them. Tonight will be a long night of constant teasing torture. Her only hope is that, by the end, they might let her have the orgasm she prays for.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
Image source from: Harmony
Whether a dream or reality, the outcome would be the same regardless. All you can focus on is the pleasure. That is all your world consists of right now. You want to open your eyes, but you are too relaxed to do so. Your body is in the ultimate bliss of complete relaxation, a perfect position to easily be overcome. The hands caress you in every way you desire, focusing exactly on where you want them to touch. Intense enough to fulfil your every fantasy of being manhandled and dominated by multiple people, though gentle enough to make you want more and more, to keep you on that constant incline of arousal.
They feel like every hand that has ever sexually caressed you, the hand of every person who has ever desired you, all just a little rougher than how you yourself would have played, making it all that much more erotic. Every pinch, every tweak and grasp, every poke and stroke, all managing to touch something much deeper than merely the surface of your body. Once they finally penetrate you, you feel like you have melted, a dripping wet mess of sensuality and lust. You feel every action as if it were in slow motion, dragging out every sensation until it is agonising in the most wonderful of ways. You feel every fold of your sex parting for those fingers, every nerve of your clitoris being set alight by those sweeping strokes.
Even though it had spent so long being built up, your orgasm feels like it won’t stop. All the while, those hands play you so finely, like an instrument. You shiver and cry out in pleasure, clutching at one of the hands like it is a lifeline, though nothing stops. After so long, too long, you begin to come down from that vicious pleasure – though still nothing changes. Your body remains too relaxed to open your eyes, too much in a dreary haze to pull yourself from the grasp. As the hands continue to work you, exploring your pussy just as intently, you feel yourself becoming trapped between two minds; one wants it to keep going and never stop, and the other knows that having more orgasms like that forced upon you would become torturous. With the way the hands have not stopped manipulating you, you won’t have a choice in the matter.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
As the rain lashes and thunder cracks, the formless entities wreak havoc upon you. A short audio story featuring supernatural beings and orgasm denial.
Taken from the GIF/story collaboration below:
Continue reading Hoping and Praying: Audio Story
Tonight is going to be a long, long night.
She had bought the house having been warned against the strange occurrences within, knowing that the man who had previously rented it spoke of strange whispers and had sensed other presences within. She, however, thought little of this foolishness. Though after living there for over a month, the rumours proved quite true.
She had been masturbating before it happened, thinking of being fucked hard and fast by different men, getting so close to climax at the thought of such intense penetration. When she was on the verge, however, she suddenly blacked out. It only felt like a second later that she awoke in the bed, yet now she was wearing some other attire, her body uncovered, her wrists restrained to the bed, helpless.
The sensation of being near climax still somehow tingled throughout her body, yet there was nothing she could do to relieve the desire. After a moment, the whispers began, whispers of pure sexual desire, whispers of how erotic she looked, how much they wanted to fuck her. Suddenly a blindfold slipped over her eyes as she called out, begging the invisible entities to let her go – still, they merely whispered their desires.
Her fear began to give way to astonishment as the sensation of cool fingertips caressed her body, lightly tracing every inch. After an hour of this, her fear had been entirely replaced by pure need. The blindfold kept her constantly in a state of uncertainty, locked in her own imagination, while the non-stop light as a feather touches kept her aching for more.
Hours went by like this, being constantly touched and teased without relief. She begged, she screamed, she cried out for more, but still, the presences which feasted on her arousal seemed content to let her writhe in anguish.
After many more hours, they began to focus on those most sensitive little areas; the sensation of fingertips, tongues and lips trailing over her nipples, over the unbearable sensitivity of her soaking wet sex, over her aching, pulsating clitoris.
Having resigned herself to this cruel fate, she realises that nothing will stop them. Tonight will be a long night of constant teasing torture. Her only hope is that, by the end, they might let her have the orgasm she prays for.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
Image source from: Harmony
Whispers of eroticism twisting through the night air; like a petal entwined in breeze, you writhe, lost in the mystical passions that threaten to consume you.
Neither asleep nor truly awake, you feel an embrace like no other, as if the atmosphere itself is lovingly caressing your body, keeping you held in its place. Not being fully awake, fear does not cloud the enchantment of sensuality your body possesses. The first ripples of movement around your body have it curious for more, as if the slightest sense of activity in the air sets your nerves alight.
The caressing movement of the sheets presses over your body as if they were the hands of a thousand masseurs exploring the contours of your female frame. Your body seems to burn with a need, yet there is no way of ever knowing whether time has passed in seconds or hours – every touch upon your body seems to linger for an eternity.
The embrace of the entity against your chest sends a warm surge down to your toes. Instinctively, your hands press to the sheets, clasping onto nothing but cotton yet still feeling as if all the hands in the world were focused on your body.
As your skin is exposed, the air itself seems to kiss every morsel of you, as if the sensual whispers were showing their appreciation. You writhe in agonised ecstasy as your breasts are caressed once again, every fibre of your sexuality being enticed effortlessly. The sheets embrace you ceaselessly, like a sea of pleasure washing over you, threatening to drown you. Unlike fingers, the motions wreaking havoc around your body feel like countless threads of silk twining around your skin.
The movements lead between your thighs, making your internal, subconscious voice cry out in bliss. The sheet envelops you, a mass of pleasure encasing you as you rock uncontrollably, feeling like the sensation of a hundred silky brushes rolling along the deepest sensitivities of your sex, all under the firm grasp of the sheet rocking against your womanhood.
You will not awake from this abyss of pleasure until the desires of the night are through with you; passing out, screaming out, shielding yourself – these are options beyond your control. You are merely the passenger. They shall drive you to the greatest heights of pleasure.
Without control, without respite, you moan into the eternity of the night.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
Image source from: The Toy Box
Wherever they had come from, those fetching panties that she had discovered in her drawer were going to inflict a night of passion upon her that she would never forget.
The silky softness of that tight little piece of fabric made her hunger for the touches against her sensuous mound; never in her most erotic dreams could she imagine that those panties would embody something which hungered for her just as much.
From the moment she put them on, she longed to caress her sex. The cool silk seemed to enhance every sensation. After mere seconds it seemed as if every nerve ending in her body had focused its attention on just that one space between her legs. The deep longing grew and grew until simply the slippery stroke of a fingertip was not nearly enough. She had felt the joy of being teased plenty of times before, yet this longing was unlike anything else – as if every passing second added an hour’s worth of tantalisation.
She removed the lingerie hastily, unaware that its spell had long been cast upon her body the moment they were worn, the moment they encased her sensitive womanhood.
Completely naked and exposed, she still felt the familiar sensation of the cool, soft silkiness clinging to her sex, though all her attention was on the uncontrollable longing which burned between her legs. Her fingers magnetised towards it, yet instead of the fulfilling comfort of masturbation, they were stopped. As if they were being held back, she could not push her hands any further down. No matter how much she tried to slide her fingers down to quench the fire raging within her sex, she was left held so cruelly close. While the unendurable longing did not seem to die down, her pussy seemed to be throbbing with more need with each second.
The tingling seemed to increase to a burning need, until moments later it was like she was trapped in the vice of an impending orgasm that wouldn’t come. Still, her pussy was inexplicably out of reach. Suddenly her arms were pulled back and came to rest above her head, pinned in place as if they were being held tightly. Just as fast, her pussy was embraced by sensations she could not explain or comprehend. Even while her pussy was bare, she could feel the familiar sensation of the silky material embracing her. This sensation seemed to combine with the stimulation of being touched by the softest of fingertips, of being licked by the most precise tongue, of being nibbled by the most eager mouth.
She thought her engorged mound would explode with need as repeatedly she was brought so close to orgasm and held there before it backed off just enough to leave her hips thrusting for more. She wanted to touch herself, to touch anywhere, just to feel the soft curves of her heat-stricken body. Still, she remained held in place, tormented to a state of craving that she had never thought possible. The constant writhing of her hips did nothing to increase the formless yet ever-present and unyielding manipulations of her soft, delicate mound.
Finally, when she thought her consciousness could not stand any more of that tantalising torture, it happened. Her pussy felt like it had suddenly been devoured with pure stimulation, as if her entire sex were being sucked. Every tiny detail and sensitivity of that swollen mound seemed to be being latched onto by the air itself. After so much time spent in the hell of denial, the sudden avalanche of suction was a heaven of orgasmic bliss. Her orgasm seemed to never end – she didn’t want it to. All she cared about was the unparalleled pleasure that confined her to the bed. Wave after wave of orgasm was sucked from her. The mixture of such long denial and the longing brought about by the lingerie kept fuelling the orgasmic fire. As if reading her mind, the sucking stopped, ceasing just as the almost painfully intense orgasms started to cross the line of being unbearable.
Once she was able to move her arms, she knew it was over. All was still and quiet in the room. Finally able to catch her breath, as if her lungs were also finally her own now, she simply lay there motionless, recovering from the fiercest orgasms she had ever experienced.
As she lay there, she thought to herself that she may wait at least another week before putting those back on.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
Image source from: 18onlygirls
A whimper of pleasure… a smouldering scream of longing. Every ounce of her despair, her sexual torment, resonates throughout the room, sounds which never penetrate through the mystically sound-proofed room.
Her hips remain held up by an unseen yet powerful grasp, keeping her so vulnerably on her front, completely exposed. Any time she moves her hands anywhere below her neckline, they are quickly pulled back up. She cannot see her tormentors, nor can she hear them, every plea and scream seems to fall on deaf ears as they continue to manhandle her like a doll. No matter how much she tries in vain to free herself, to move away, they hold her steady in the position they delight in, leaving her to simply rock her hips in dire need.
It feels like hours have passed, yet they show no signs of stopping. Over and over she is brought to the brink of orgasm by the merciless forces around her, showing no sympathy as she constantly begs to be made to come. At first she had tried to fight the ghostly advances, yet it took them little time to strip her, to ravish her, leaving her with solely the animalistic need brought to the surface.
Countless touches linger on her exposed flower, teasing her to the edge before the sensation of hundreds of tiny tongues encasing her peeled back, exposed clitoris makes her scream. Hundreds of flickers to her throbbing, aching jewel keeps her on the edge for longer than even the cruellest of fantasies could imagine.
No matter how much she screams out for the merciful release of orgasm, or how many tears of pleasure soaked agony line her flushed red cheeks, they do not relent. While they continue to edge her over and over, they are not gentle; sucking her clitoris so hard, exploring her sex so deeply, yet no matter how roughly they feast on her, they always keep her teetering on the brink.
Whether bringing her to the closest possible peak of climax repeatedly without rest, or holding her on the edge for longer than humanly possible, they never change their pattern or slow down, keeping her juices running down her thighs and dripping onto the bed.
Even through the sensations neither her mind nor body can comprehend or handle, the sweet relief of passing out is not granted. While she cries out, screams, begs and writhes her sweat coated body, they continue unhindered, not allowing for the inferno to ever dwindle.
This hell will be endured for as long as the entities wish, and they are in no rush. They have all the time in the world to deliver their sweet anguish… the anguish of being tortured by silent, invisible entities which cannot be touched nor pleaded with.
They have merely just begun.
Content for the submission created by: PleasureTorture