"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".
I stand here before you, watching you sway in the rhythm of your sexual longing. My words seem to still be echoing in your mind, telling you just how to masturbate yourself, making sure not to push you over the edge. I love thinking about how it must feel, to realise that if simply masturbating to the brink and stopping could feel so intense, intense enough to start begging me for mercy, just how will it feel for you once I take over. I’ve seen you at your most intimate, I know just how far I can push you.
“Again,” I command as you beg once more, taken to the limit of what your own touch can provide. Your waist bounces rapidly to the strum of your fingers, making my cock tense for a moment as I imagine what it would be like to feel you right now. To feel how your pussy must be convulsing after being nearly granted the climax that has been tantalising it for some time now. It takes all my willpower to not leap towards your tensing body, enticed by the little trail of your pussy juice which drips from your tender apex. Watching your arousal build to a visible trail of pleasure has kept me yearning to do so much more to you, but patience always yields the sweetest results.
She thought he’d have let her come by now, yet he has no intention of it. Feeling her hips sway up and down with the rhythm of his cruel tongue makes him want to push her way past her limits. He circles her clitoris for a minute; that slithering wet sensation tracing the very edges of her swollen button makes her scream and plead.
After the minute, he strokes it left and right over the tip of her throbbing clit ten times, the way she shudders every time he makes contact with it gives him more reason to never stop this torturous cycle.
On and on he goes… a minute of circling before ten whips of his patient tongue. She had prayed that he would have gotten tired by now, that he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for so long.
Now all she can do is cry out for mercy. He simply smirks… another minute coming up.
The soothing hum of an air conditioner drifts through the office, filling the void of the girl’s hesitation at the question.“No, not for over two years,” she finally responds.
The interviewer makes a note. “Any encounters within this period?”
“…Yeah,” follows the pause.
“If you care to say so, roughly, how recently was this?”
A rustling of paperwork fills the moment’s silence as the young woman averts her gaze.
“It was – um, about …uh, 4 months ago.”
“Lastly, have you been looking for any further partners recently?” the interviewer asks softly, making sure not to offend or embarrass the gentle looking girl before him.
Lifting her deep blue eyes to his, she firmly states, “No, just enjoying my independence,” before giving a warm smile.
The interviewer smiles back and turns off the sound recorder on his desk which separates them both in the spacious, finely decorated office room. Laying down his notes methodically, he addresses the girl.
Feeling the throb as it gets closer. The pulsing desire flowing through like a volcano ready to erupt. The surge as every inch tingles in anticipation, knowing her lips can grant sweet release, or rapturous torment.