"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: many hands
Just close your eyes and imagine it. Every inch of your body explored until the lingering touches focus on those more delicate little areas, until those mouths press longingly against the little parts that make you shiver.
Just think of the sensation as each tongue worked in unison to bring you closer and closer. With your eyes closed, picturing the scene. You can almost feel how your hips would rock against such tantalisation, how your toes would curl, how your fingers would clench, trying to stay grounded against the weightlessness, the fluttering sensations that take hold. No matter how long you tease yourself with that image, it will remain with you throughout the entire day.
I know just how much this turns you on, being the centre of attention, with every eye lingering on your gorgeous naked body. The way others can watch you at your most intimate, at your most sensitive. There is something so erotic about coming so intensely in front of others just watching, not playing a part physically in your orgasm, but just gazing at your deepest moments of pleasure.
You can’t deny your deepest fantasies. To be rendered helpless and teased beyond words, to be caressed so tenderly and intently, to be seduced by eager hands exploring every inch of your sensitive body. Simply, to be the centre of everyone else’s desires.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
She had often mentioned to her boyfriend how she fantasised about playing with other women; never did she dream that her fantasy would be lived out unexpectedly on a spa break. She certainly noticed him having a lengthy chat with these two ladies over the weekend, though she wouldn’t have believed that they were discussing when would be the right opportunity to take her, strip her, and all have their way with her.
“If nobody hears us, we’ll have plenty of time alone with you here, so I’ve told these girls they can go extra slowly with you. I know it feels good, sweetheart, but we can’t afford to let you come in case anyone hears us in here. I know how loud you are.”
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.
As the rain lashes and thunder cracks, the formless entities wreak havoc upon you. A short audio story featuring supernatural beings and orgasm denial.
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.
Sometimes you just want to feel hands all over you, caressing and fondling every inch of your gorgeous, supple body; sometimes your desire is so intense you can almost feel them.
In those most sensual recesses of your mind, you can escape into your deepest fantasies. Whether you wish to experience them in reality, or simply bathe in them through your imagination, you can let your desires to be touched, fondled and explored so intimately consume you as you gasp sweet syllables of intense stimulation.
Imagine yourself strapped and spread apart, your body felt by many hands eager to caress you. Imagine the way your legs would buckle as those fingers relentlessly rubbed against your delicate sex, feeling the heat from all those bodies surrounding you, each delighting in your moans and shudders of ecstasy. Imagine how you would not want them to stop, no matter how intense it became. Give in to your longings; the more you fantasise, the more vivid they become.
She had never expected to experience such torment, to repeatedly feel the sensations that continued to ebb away at her willpower.
Every night she turned up like a moth to a flame. The advertisement had requested a female to be used for the class of massage students to practice on. She had not expected them to practice on her all at once, every night, to be touched so much by so many soft, oily hands.
The massage instructor had told her not to masturbate for the duration of the week so that she remained most sensitive and responsive. The need overwhelmed her night after night, yet she somehow managed to hold out after every class. The thought of holding herself back was not only a challenge she wanted to succeed in, it was also something that had aroused her the moment she was first told it – the thought of trying to contain her own desires.
Each night she lay on the massage table as they circled around, each caressing her body and sliding their hands sensually all over. The girls took so much pleasure in arousing their subject, knowing that such a long, sensual massage – night after night – must have been unbearable. Occasionally one or two of them would let their fingertips brush against the lips of her sex, taking much delight in letting her arousal simmer, though never giving her the exploration she began to internally beg for. They kept gliding their palms so gently and slowly along the girl’s body, always working in unison to constantly stoke the flame.
Her mind could not follow the patterns of so many hands; soon it became a constant motion of erotic sensations sweeping over her skin.
By the end of the week, the classes, as well as the indescribable need afterwards, had become torture… yet still, she went, with only one more night left.
