"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".
Tag: magic wand
Even when it is just the slightest morsel of fabric protecting your delicate sex, once it is removed it feels like a new world of unbearably pleasurable stimulation. Once the vibrator buzzes against your now fully exposed, hyper-sensitive pussy, you feel a new dimension of defencelessness has been granted.
Helplessly, all she could do was give in to the desires ceaselessly coursing through her body. Restrained and blindfolded, even the slightest touch from our fingertips sent a surge throughout. Never had her pleasure been so out of her own hands, to be so out of her own control.
We kept her on the edge for what felt like hours, never giving the mercy she pleaded for. Relentlessly tortured, as however much she screamed in pleasure, it was never enough to satisfy our desires.
As the wand pulled away, she begged for more until the moment that pulsing vibration settled between her legs once again, taking her breath away. Arching her back, tensing her body, hoping that this will be the moment… but again, her torment continued.
It isn’t merely the act itself that keeps you dripping with arousal, it’s knowing that you are the centre of our attention, the focal point of our lust and desire. That is why we haven’t let you climax quite yet. We want to keep you right at the point that we enjoy most, the moment where your own attention is on the same thing as ours, your pleasure. Where your orgasm is all your mind can focus on, the inescapable need. It keeps your pussy so wet, your clitoris so sensitive, and your moans so sweet.
I just love when you don’t know which one of us you should beg to, which one of us might say the word you crave, ‘Come’.
A sharp intake of breath, the prickling shock of realization; Laura had regained consciousness as if torn from the comfort of sleep by the stark horror of reality. From the moment she’d regained her senses, her mind had been racing to make sense of the predicament she found herself in. Laura squinted, the light piercing her vision until she adjusted to the brightly lit room, a sight which both mystified and terrified her. The room was small and bare, surrounded with mirrors which seemed to shine upon the young girl who was bound in the middle of it. Arms hanging from the ceiling, her wrists cuffed together while her legs were spread apart, feet flat on the warm carpeted floor as her ankles had been cuffed and pulled wide apart, leaving little room for movement.
“Please, where am I?” Laura called to no response, struggling to raise her voice as her head swam, the effects of the drug still lingering. She looked at herself in disbelief, feeling so small as the room seemed to engulf her, every angle of her slender frame displayed. How many times she had fantasised about being in such a situation, almost admiring the view as she hung there, spread helplessly, pale blue bra and panties clinging to such a delicate, petite frame. ‘But not like this,’ she thought to herself, snapping back to the gravity of the situation, trying in vain to free herself.