orgasm denial – Page 4 – PleasureTorture

Watching him penetrate her makes you wonder how it must feel to have a part of your body inside that soft wetness. That slick little space is so hot, smooth and inviting that even your fingers want to slip within; the desire must be unbearable for that hard cock. Your eyes can’t keep from lingering on her. How you know just what it feels like to be taken that way, the fulfilment of having it thrust so deeply inside.

Your fingers work as hard and fast as that cock pounding her so intently, knowing that as she trembles and quivers in the throes of orgasm, your own pleasure will want to spill over. But no, you will hold it back once again, ready for him to fuck you just the same, to let him feel all that pent-up longing surrounding his length the moment he presses himself within that dripping wet haven. You want to come just like her. You won’t. You will merely watch her climax as they watch you shudder on the brink again and again.

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Image source: Nubilefilms

The words that you want to be pulled from you again and again and again…

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Image source: New Sensations

Keep those arms and legs spread for him. You will only use one hand to explore your desire, leaving the other arm and legs outstretched, feeling those restraints holding you in place for him to take you as he desires.

First, tease yourself as you imagine yourself restrained, those fingertips trailing in such soft, slow circles around your so incredibly aroused little entrance. How you want to feel those fingers penetrate you deeply, to feel the power of his hands envelop your sex. Keep teasing it, circling that tight hole which will soon quiver for so much more.

Once it truly can’t handle such teasing, slide those fingers up and down the sides, letting them trail along the lips of your sex. Even from just 5 minutes of this, it feels unending, a need so bad that it draws the deepest desperation from you.

Act III: Denial

The play had gained equal parts infamy and acclaim for its unflinching exploration and portrayal of human sexuality. While the plot traversed various time periods and scenarios, the explicit depiction of sexuality kept its many viewers engaged. Most notable was Act III, simply entitled ‘Denial’, which contained an extended period of orgasm denial for the scene’s leading actress. It was designed to represent the juxtaposition of society’s desire for female sexuality with its disposition to suppress it.

As the show became more popular, the strain on the cast became greater, as with any show. However, the lead actress for ‘Denial’ suffered the greatest. While the play itself featured such a long, extended duration of intense sexual activity, with her male counterpart making sure to keep her as tortuously close to orgasm as possible without sending her over the edge, the continuous run of the play was making it harder and harder to bear. In order to maintain the most believable and authentic performances, the director had made the actors consent to various things related to their performances; the female star of Denial had agreed to not orgasm at all throughout the entire run of the play.

At first, the few weeks that it was scheduled seemed feasible, though now that it was already coming to the first month, with so many extra dates added, the torment she experienced on a near-nightly basis was hellish, as were the nights which she had off, the constant internal fight against her urges. Though at least the audience always had the most intense, rawest depiction of denial possible on stage.

Looking down, they both see what turns the other one, him watching his length being teased to the brink, her seeing her soft, slippery mound being lapped away at relentlessly. The impulse to keep watching the other’s torment, something which adds to that unyielding ache, is on par with the desire to win the game. It isn’t looking down and seeing their play partners’ mouths slowly tormenting them to the pinnacle that made holding back that much harder; what made it so much more difficult was thinking of how the other person felt. His hips would thrust with each thought of how her clitoris must be pulsing on the edge of orgasm as the girls sucked and licked so intently; her hips writhe with the thought of how it would feel to have tongues wrapping around that pulsing tip, feeling each inch of that length pulsating so closely to erupting.

The highest pinnacle of sexuality. To imagine just how the other is feeling, such similar sensations in such different places. As pre-cum trailed down his shaft, as her juices trickled down her ass cheeks, they tried to hold on, willing the other to give in, knowing that soon one of them would succumb.

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Image source (fellatio image): Klixen

“That’s it, keep eating her out. Don’t pay any attention to how much she screams out and begs you to stop, keep going. If you make her orgasm another five more times, I’ll finally allow you to have that orgasm you need so badly. If you stop, it’ll be another week before you get the chance to come again. Perfect, show no mercy.”

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Your Clitoris (Audio Tease)

First you focused on ‘Your Nipples’ so now it is time to lead your fingers down your body.

An audio tease focusing solely on your clitoris. Bask in the pleasure as you arouse yourself with gentle stimulation, tantalising between your legs with delicate touches. Perhaps, when you are most in need, you’ll feel a mouth wrap around it.

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“Stop,” the word that never fails to send a devastating rush through her overstimulated mind. Finally brought back to the reality of her situation, the reality of what control her own fingertips have against the backdrop of her desires. If only the reality would mirror her fantasies, that of being able to dictate when she could climax.

Centre stage, she continues once again, the limits of passion engulfing every inch of her body, the gazes that sweep over her seem to touch like fingertips, as if every pair of eyes brushes tantalisingly along her skin. She wants to beg them one by one for the orgasm that has been denied for so long, though it is clear that these men and women watching her are here for the pleasure being witnessed, with no intention of letting it subside so soon. Her eyes begin anew their search for someone who might show some mercy, scanning the figures, some sitting and some standing but all dressed smartly for this sexual display, for some look of consent for release. Against the gentle backdrop of whispered chat and the sharp tap of wine glasses occasionally being placed on tables, her outpouring moans and sighs of pleasure takes centre stage.

Fingers slickly coated with her own juices, she stops again as she feels herself teetering on the brink, a dull, aching pulse resonating from her clitoris, being her body’s only means of retaliation for such denial. She focuses on a couple who stands at the foot of the large bed as she begins stroking again. Mouthing the word ‘please’ to the man, she wants him to imagine what it must feel like inside her right now, how her tenderness must be quivering in need, how if he’d give the permission for her to come, how he could imagine feeling himself wrapped within those tight, convulsing folds of silken delight. The man merely smiles and continues to enjoy the delight, all while caressing his partner, who is savouring the sight just as much. For a moment, she thinks of how the light, folding around her body like a sheet, must be illuminating every detail of her dripping wet, glistening sex. The thought makes her reach the edge of orgasm so fiercely that she has to clasp her legs shut in order not to risk going over.

“Open them,” comes the hushed yet no less commanding order from a woman watching to the side, one of the closest people around her. Every feeling of desperation, of animalistic need, of agonising arousal, seems to instantly melt away to reveal the purest pleasure she has ever felt. The control of her own body, of her own pleasure, being held in the palms of not only those around her, but specifically this woman watching with such intent, makes her sexuality feel like the most important thing in the world, the very centre of existence.

Looking deeply into this woman’s eyes, she holds her gaze while her fingers slip within, seeming to explore herself deeper than she’d ever felt before. With her gaze held the whole time, through the ebbing tide of impending orgasm, her eyes convey one simple truth. This right now was the most wonderful, erotic experience of her life.

Photography by: Deckmara

Written by: PleasureTorture

The Interrogation

Was it hours that had passed, or was it merely minutes? She had no idea. Time itself seemed lost in limbo. Her only measurement of being that seemed to exist now was whether she was coming, or just recovering from having climaxed. A hell of orgasms that would not stop.

No matter how many times she had told them all she knew, they would not relent in their interrogation, desperate to acquire the correct codes for her employer’s office. Her first mistake had been to side with them once in the past, when her ex-boyfriend had convinced her that her employer wouldn’t miss just a couple of the highly valuable paintings he kept there in his vast collection. The second mistake was to back out of the plan, having already told them that, being a close assistant to the boss, she was privy to the access code.

“Just admit that you cheated on the test, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Please… I… I didn’t… I swear…”

“It must be so hard to be kept on the edge like this, right? I can feel how much your pussy wants my fingers to stay inside, twitching all around them, trying to suck them in deeper.”

“Oh fuck… Please… Please…”

She knew the girl was telling the truth, but she was having far too much fun to stop now; her moans of denied pleasure were far too intoxicating to let go of.

Soon, the girl would be admitting to anything just to keep those fingers working her past the brink.