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 to not 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. 

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source: Klixen

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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