restraint – PleasureTorture

Work-Life Balance

You wanted to experience what I can do to you?

I couldn’t help but smirk a little when you first asked. On the phones at work, those brief moments when you managed to prise the details of my sexual appetite from my lips. Perhaps it was the tone, maybe the choice of words, maybe even the way I looked you deep in the eyes as I spoke, but something sparked that fire, that longing. The curiosity kept getting the better of you, asking how I did it to the other girls, where you could watch it, what kinds of toys I used and how I used them. Work was never the suitable place to answer in detail, but I gave you just enough to keep your imagination alight. Finally, once I thought your curiosity had run its course, after such silence on the topic, you asked the question that caused that smile, which you still think of now. How I pictured you teasing and pleasuring yourself to the content I had led you to, wanting to allow you to explore your desires to the fullest. Though I never expected the words to drift from your alluring lips.

“Would you do that to me? Even just once?”

Just A Glitch

Just a glitch.

Just a glitch, she thought to herself, hoping. The buzzing once again slowly built up after that abrupt halt. The internet feed continued, so there didn’t seem to be any power outage; she thought that it must have been a malfunction of the Sybian vibrator’s program. It turned her on more than anything to know so many people were watching her in this state of pleasure, ready to see her orgasm over and over again. She had always been so sensitive, so easy to bring to orgasm. Little did she know that the purpose of the set was quite the opposite.

That complete loss of control, it is what you desire most.

Knowing you cannot stop that constant, burning pleasure, that near the unendurable pulse of the vibrator, that relentless ache of every impending orgasm. Even the slightest give in the restraints feels almost too lenient. You want it to hold you even tighter, and make you suffer even more through every agonising wave of ecstasy. That gushing, white-hot pleasure that keeps you screaming isn’t enough to crush the need for more and more. Only when the flood of sensation starts to almost hurt that you feel the need to say it’s getting too much, though just as you had hoped from the beginning, there is no chance of it stopping. Your body will give out far before your mind’s need for torturous pleasure can be fulfilled. You will always suffer so much for what you love most.

No matter what position I take you in, I always want you to feel completely helpless and at my mercy.

Lying there motionless even though every inch of you feels like it is trembling. You try to contain yourself, to take back ownership of your body.

You had expected a wild night out, but never did you expect to be taking someone back with you; there was an intensity to him that seemed to ignite your desires instantly. Once you were both alone in your room, it caught you off guard when he told you not to undress when things began to get heated. Even then, as your lips locked and your hands explored one another, you could sense there was a presence of mind to him unlike any other. There was no desperate fumble to disrobe you, no instant dash to penetrate you; instead there was simply the slow, attentive touch of someone who wanted to savour every moment.

The way he teased your body so effortlessly made your insides melt with longing: he seemed to realise this, taking your hands suddenly and tying them with his belt. You trembled as that feeling of pure submission washed over you, yet still he took his time, pinning you down and teasing through your clothes. Once his fingers slid under your panties, you cried out with pleasure, yet still he didn’t let you come, choosing instead to bring you close over and over again. The more you begged and pleaded, the more those fingers slowed down and explored at his leisure and delight. Your pleasure was his to command, and when he stood up to get the sex toys in your drawer, you knew that tonight you were going to climax harder than ever before in your life.

Submitted to and Written by: PleasureTorture

Image by: asubmissiveintraining

A weekend all to herself, finally the chance to try out the PleasureTorture outcall service had presented itself. Having made the call and booked for the entire weekend, she started having second thoughts, though, by this time, it was too late. As per the service she had chosen, there was no warning or introduction; as soon as the door was answered, she was stripped and tied. She was shaking, her heart pounding, yet even through wondering whether this was all a mistake, it somehow felt so perfect.

The first hour was pure bliss. Not a word was spoken to her. All part of the package that had been chosen. Of course, after a couple of hours, the denial period would take its devastating effect; soon, she’d be begging for an orgasm, begging for just a word or acknowledgement at all from the masked tormentor.

A weekend of orgasm denial and forced orgasms… once chosen, there is no going back. She had asked to be teased to the extreme, wordlessly brought to the brink until she was crying with need, then forced to endure orgasm after orgasm until the weekend was over. This was the service she asked for; it was the service she would undoubtedly receive.

“Hold your hips still for one minute, and I will stop.”

Every time she fails, the harder it gets.

It isn’t merely the act itself that keeps you dripping with arousal. It’s knowing that you are the centre of our attention, the focal point of our lust and desire. That is why we haven’t let you climax quite yet. We want to keep you right at the point that we enjoy most, the moment where your own attention is on the same thing as ours, your pleasure. Where your orgasm is all your mind can focus on, the inescapable need. It keeps your pussy so wet, your clitoris so sensitive, and your moans so sweet.

I just love when you don’t know which one of us you should beg to, which one of us might say the word you crave, ‘Come’.