Tag: male denial

Marks of Eros

The following is an excerpt from the fantasy novel I’m working on called ‘Marks of Eros’.

It is nearing completion (after which I’ll begin the editing process) and hadn’t planned on posting any of it, however as thanks for someone’s recent Ko-fi tip I thought it’d be nice to post a portion of this chapter. There is of course context missing in some elements, but this chapter gives a feeling for the world of ‘Marks of Eros’.

This chapter focuses on male denial in front of an audience.

Under the sun’s spotlight on a balmy evening, the audience cheered after every groan of desperate need.

The prisoner, Lance, was securely strapped to an inversion table draped in red silk, which stood upright. The silk bindings were meticulously tied around his ankles, thighs, waist, wrists – pinned at his sides – and upper body, ensuring he could not move at all.

Multiple near-naked dancers were weaving in and out of one another in a synchronised display of eroticism around him. Some of the men were fully naked, their erect lengths receiving glancing touches from the passing female dancers, who were all clad in beautiful, intricately crafted red lingerie. The dancers’ lithe, oil-coated bodies rippled in the light, shining as they glided around the stage. Fire and light burst from around the platform to further hypnotise the audience.

Drummers around the stage kept a pulsing beat that throbbed throughout the amphitheatre, almost keeping in beat with the throbbing focal point at the centre of the stage.  Lance’s erect length was constantly having Succubus oil drizzled over it by the passing dancers, ensuring it twitched with yearning.

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The Playboy Bunny Costume

Evan and Fiona had hoped their outfits would titillate as much as possible. Fiona’s Playboy Bunny costume and her boyfriend’s skimpy butler attire had turned many heads, much to their joy.  Fiona’s corset bodysuit and black sheer stockings ensured that every curve of her body was accentuated magnificently. She felt incredibly sexy. Because Evan was wearing even less clothing than her – just a tiny thong, waist jacket and bowtie, she didn’t even feel self-conscious about her own skimpy outfit. It had been the perfect Halloween party: good company, plenty of fun and laughter, and a little arousing to see all of the sexy outfits on display.

It was once the pair returned home that things changed. They had already torn one another’s clothing away to unleash the pent-up arousal from the party. At some point during their sexual escapade, while they were hot and heavy and so close to fulfilling one another’s desires, they both were whisked away to another place. It was so instantaneous that as they looked around and realised they were no longer in their own bedroom, they were still in the middle of intercourse. Evan was still fully penetrating Fiona.

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The Cowboy Costume

Daniel had laughed off the warnings, thinking a simple cowboy costume wouldn’t cause the slightest bit of concern.

Now, he found himself helplessly restrained and near hysterical with need.

When he had been walking home from the Halloween party, he was a little disappointed to have not hooked up with anyone but was still riding the buzz from a good night and several drinks. Without any warning or transition, a cloud of darkness overcame him until suddenly he was lying on his back, entirely naked and achingly erect.

He looked around what appeared to be a barn, though a gorgeous woman wearing the same hat he’d worn with his cowboy outfit caught his attention and held it. The hat was the only thing she wore, making his cock pulse a little more. He didn’t understand why he was so unbelievably aroused, given his confusion, yet all he could focus on was her sensuous curves and the fact that she was looking at him hungrily. Her sultry smile made Daniel burn with desire, as too did her warm, southern tone.  

“Well, howdy there, cowboy. I was wonderin’ when you’d finally wake up. Looks like you’re rarin’ to go, and I gotta say, it’s lookin’ mighty fine. But I reckon I shouldn’t hog all the fun for myself, now should I?”

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I know how it feels, being in your position, being restrained and helpless. How it lets you focus on the overwhelming sensations between your legs, that build-up which consumes you, knowing that release in every sense is at my discretion.

I understand you want to see me riding you, yet I also know that the fantasy in your mind adds another layer of torment, imagining the smile as I look down and see the utter desperation your mouth tries to convey.

I know that you want me to be as cruel as possible, to ensure that every motion of my body feels destined to prolong your pleasure until you feel like mercy is beyond reach, until you feel like even begging me would simply elicit laughter, the kind of laughter that sends a shiver of erotic longing through your spine.

What I don’t understand, however, is just how it feels to need to thrust upwards, to feel several inches of your body literally throbbing and pulsating with the need to drive deeper. I can’t comprehend the tightness and yearning within those balls, that external, gorgeous masculinity, to need to release the pent-up tide of orgasm. I don’t know how it feels to have this heat, this softness, this wetness, clenching around those aching inches slip up and down while fighting to hold back that white-hot gush.

That’s what makes it so much more erotic. I can imagine and understand what you feel, but I don’t truly know how your cock feels right now – yet I’m still going to prolong that sensual agony for as long as possible. That’s what keeps my body burning with arousal and what keeps me coming again and again, knowing that my joy is what makes your cock suffer just that little bit more.

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The Masseuse (His November)

The Masseuse and The Masseuse Part II

One month, that’s all it would be. He thought it would be difficult, he never expected it would be hellish.

It would have been so much easier, he thought, if his last orgasm was at least fulfilling, at least truly enjoyable. Instead, the masseuse had ended with a ruined orgasm, dashing hopes of a pleasurable climax before sending him away with the instruction to go a month of denial before returning. All he needed to do was get through November, and finally he assumed he’d get the orgasmic release he needed.

He longed for the massage table, to feel the masseuse and her apprentice’s warm, feminine hands caress his naked body. It was extremely difficult to abstain from touching himself at night when that was all he could picture. The way their hands coated him all over, how soft their palms felt against his throbbing member, how teasing their fingertips were each time it twitched.

Even work was difficult; as the days turned into weeks, it became harder to think about anything other than sex. Every titillating image or suggestive comment turned his mind to mush. It was as if, within the first week, he realised just how much free time he had, even at work, free time which led to more fantasies churning in his mind. While the urge to masturbate at night wasn’t as strong as expected, the urge to watch porn was greater than ever. He avoided it to ensure he wouldn’t be tempted. He wanted to last the entire month.

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The Masseuse

If he knew how much he’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, he’d have never denied himself for so long.

Having abstained from masturbation, he had decided to book a massage to unwind with his long-time masseuse, though never had he expected it to become so sensual. She would massage his body with the most tender touches, her hands so attentive as they caressed his back, arms and shoulders before moving to his legs. When she had done this before, there was only the slightest hint of sexuality, the lightest touch a little closer under the towel than he’d expected. This time, however, it was as if she knew that he had abstained for weeks and wanted him to suffer.

He wasn’t surprised when he turned up and found the masseuse with a female accomplice; often, the pair massaged him together. What did surprise him, however, was that the trainee focused only on his upper body while his masseuse concentrated only on his lower body. It was clear right from the beginning that she intended to make life as difficult as possible, to set his imagination alight. Instantly she brushed her hands up under the towel, sweeping along his buttocks, then his inner thighs, just enough to have his mind’s eye focused on his manhood which she was so close to. Her hands crept further and further upwards with every movement as she stroked along his upper legs.

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She had planned his anniversary gift for quite some time, to have a mutual friend of theirs help in contributing to her partner’s biggest turn-on, being brought to the edge of orgasm repeatedly. 

Having tied him down on the bed, she and her partner in crime spent the evening teasing every inch of his member, taking turns slowly wrapping their mouths around the swollen tip, sucking down around his pulsating shaft and slipping their tongues around every sensitive ridge. Keeping her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, she could always feel the familiar pulse, letting her know just when he was right there and ready to erupt, just enough notice to tell them to back off.

Repeatedly the sensation of their tongues motioning around his length, fast enough to keep his body tense with stimulation but slow enough not to bring him over the edge, makes him finally give way to his need for release. Her knowledge of just how his balls tighten so much and how the base of his cock twitches when on the edge would be what would torture him most; they were having too much fun with him to stop now. However much his cock throbbed in the purple shade of frustration. However much his hips tried to thrust with enticing anticipation, they wanted to make sure it’d be an anniversary gift to be remembered. 

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The Writer’s Pen

“Good girl, don’t stop – keep rubbing that throbbing clit for me. I want to just jump through the monitor and torture you with my own fingertips.” 

“Please!! It’s too much, I need to come… I neeeeeed to come. Fuck I can’t hold it!” 

“Don’t you dare come or I’ll ruin your next 5 orgasms in a row.” 

“Pleeeeeease!!!” 

“Stop. Just circle it for 10 seconds. No, begging isn’t going to help. How badly do you need to come?” 

“Oh God… fuck. OH GOD. More than… I can barely talk. More than anything. I’ve been desperate for days. I’m begging you to let me come. Please. My pussy can’t take it anymore.” 

“Get close again. Just think of my mouth torturing you right now, my tongue slipping back and forth over your mound, flicking your twitching little clit until your hips are shaking.” 

“PLEEEEASE! My hips are already shaking. I need to… I’m going to-“

“-Stop. Hands away. Good girl, I love seeing your hips rocking in need. If you travel and visit me, perhaps I’ll be able to give your pussy what it needs most. Just imagine me fingerfucking you hard right now while sucking your clit mercilessly.” 

“Can I please touch it? Just the thought alone nearly has me on edge.” 

“No… that’s enough. You’ll have to wait.” 

“Oh no please please please. That’s too cruel. It’s been two weeks. I’m desperate. I just HAVE to come.” 

“No. Not today. Suffer with need until we next can play. I have to continue writing more for today.”  

“One day you’ll know just how it feels,” she growled in warning, though was met only by a cold laugh from the one who had brought so much pleasure along with so much frustration.  

With that, the writer ended the webcam session, putting an end to any hope for her to receive the relief she desperately needed. Another follower, another victim, whom he had brought to a knife edge, left dancing in his web of cruel ecstasy.  

You reap what you sow. 

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