ruined orgasm – PleasureTorture

Ruined

She found herself in hell. It was beyond torture at this point. No matter how much she cried and begged and screamed, he wouldn’t give her what she needed. What should have been a heavenly sensation was constantly being turned into a hellish ordeal as the convulsion of orgasm tore through her without the warmth of fulfilment. Again and again, ruined orgasms were thrust upon her.

Even when she wasn’t tied up, she didn’t try to fight back at first. She thought she might have been able to handle it better. She also hadn’t expected him to continue doing it to her.

She hoped that soon enough, the warmth of her pussy and the way it softly enveloped his cock would entice him to stay inside and continue thrusting. She soon prayed that the eroticism of her movements and the way that she moaned and squealed as she came would make him falter. He didn’t.

Every time he thrust inside and brought her to the pinnacle, he stopped right as she came, letting his cock slide out, watching as she shivered and winced, the scald of a ruined orgasm wreaking havoc on her. It left nothing but a dull ache and a need for something so much more. He fucked her to that point repeatedly and continued to stop, ensuring she hit that brick wall again and again.

Even as she tried to grind against him, to ensure he felt how wonderful it would be to remain inside her, he still withdrew, leaving her to rub helplessly against his tip. It did nothing to quell the need. Her pussy felt as if it were constantly convulsing in desperation for more penetration, for more friction, for anything.

Her body hurt with longing, her pussy swollen, a raw, red wound of unfathomable sensations. When he gripped her wrists and fitted those familiar cuffs on the headboard to them, he reminded her.

“Don’t forget… this is what you wanted. Isn’t it? You couldn’t handle the forced orgasms last time we played. You were begging me not to make you come any more. You said to me, ‘Please don’t make me come more. I can’t stand it.’ Well, this time, I won’t make you endure forced orgasms. You kept begging me to stop fucking you. You kept crying when I continued to thrust inside your gorgeous pussy while you were coming, screaming out that it was too intense for you.”

She’d have given anything to feel his cock continue to thrust while she hit her orgasm. Even if he kept going when it was too sensitive, it would have been better than this.

Each time he withdrew, he simply watched as her hips rocked and pushed up for more, her body writhing in frustration. She pulled desperately against the cuffs and wept in her ruined orgasm agony. It didn’t stop anything.

Repeatedly he kept fucking her and stopping before admiring his work, her torment. He was so aroused watching the display. It was difficult not to continue feeling her silky soft walls clenching around his manhood and to have to pull out even as he was nearing his moment. He gladly suffered. The more torment he inflicted, the more she moaned and cried out, the more he pulsed and throbbed. It made it even worse for her each time, having to feel how swollen and stiff he was as he entered her each time.

She would have preferred to have been denied than endure this. To have her orgasms ruined every single time, repeatedly and in succession, without mercy, was unbearable. Pleasure being used as a cruel torture. It was worse to see the enjoyment on his face that her suffering brought him – such a sadistic delight in constantly ruining her orgasms.

Relentlessly, what should have been a gush of heat and relief, a tight ball erupting and unravelling, was replaced with an emptiness that left the ball still tightly wound. An electric shock of sensation with no outlet, no spiral of bliss, just sensation without form. Pleasure without relief.

No matter how often she fantasised about this scenario, it never made it easier to endure. Soon enough, her pussy would become too desensitised to handle any more. She wasn’t expecting, however, that when this did occur, he’d simply go down on her and work her clitoris with his mouth. Repeatedly he’d suck her clitoris and stop every time her hips thrust upwards in climax. Not once, even from oral, would she receive the mercy of a full orgasm. It would continue until she could not come any more.

Maybe next time, he’d let her choose: forced orgasms or ruined orgasms. Right now, he knew she’d choose anything other than another ruined orgasm… if only she had a choice.

Not Yet…

Will she experience the release of orgasm? Listen in as she is instructed to hold back until she can no longer take it.

Audio featuring PleasureTorture and ‘Z’.

The Masseuse (Part III)

If they both knew how much they’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, they would never have denied themselves throughout November. It seems foolish now to have passed on the opportunity to masturbate when these skilled hands tormented them beyond reason.

The man’s entire body was already tingling with anticipation when he had first arrived; his mind was too focused on the pleasure to come to pay much attention to the second massage table in the room. He was asked to undress and lie on his back. The moment he stripped and laid down, the masseuse instantly returned and began caressing his upper body. His lower body remained covered by a towel. Even though the masseuse’s warm, oil-coated hands massaged only his shoulders and chest, his length instantly began to stir. The month of abstinence – two months total without a full orgasm – meant that all he could think of was the masseuse’s hands reaching under to stroke his cock. Just thinking of her stroking him, sucking him and riding him instantly sent a surge through to his manhood. He wanted her to whisper to him that she was going to fuck him, to impale herself on him, that knowing how desperate to come he was made her wet just thinking about, and how it aroused her to fuck men in this state.

Instead of fulfilling his fantasies right away, the masseuse simply continued to massage him wordlessly. Even the previous sexual audio, which filled the room with moans and cries of ecstasy, was absent.

Just as he began to wonder why things were so different and why the masseuse’s previous accomplice wasn’t present, another person entered the room, followed by the accomplice.

The Masseuse (Part II)

(Part I)

If she knew how much she’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, she’d have never denied herself for so long.

She had often enjoyed the sensuality of her monthly full-body massage. While she always felt that her masseuse lingered on her inner thighs more than necessary, there was nothing overtly sexual about the experience. What was apparent, however, was that after every massage, she had a great need to masturbate once she returned home. She always abstained from playing with herself for a few days before her massage, enjoying the heightened sensitivity and where her imagination led her following the massage. This time she had decided to test herself and abstain for the entire month. Having not touched herself intimately between her last massage and this one, she was already in a hyper-sexual state of mind before even lying down on the table.

Covered in only a towel, she was aware of how little her body was concealed from the two women who walked into the room. The masseuse and her female accomplice -introduced as a trainee – began massaging her back. The second woman’s wonderfully soft, warm hands ran across her shoulders while the masseuse focused on her legs. Folding the towel down inch by inch, the trainee was free to press along more of her back. It would have had her imagination on fire to have been focusing on how this newcomer’s fingertips were grazing so close to the sides of her breasts, squished against the padded table. What instead drew her attention was how the masseuse’s hands were gliding up her legs so brazenly. The masseuse’s hands slid from feet to ankles to upper thighs and buttocks in one direct motion, instantly pushing the towel up so that it barely concealed her intimacy. A mixture of shyness and arousal coursed through the silent woman. Feeling a little cool air between her legs, she closed them, knowing that the masseuse positioned at the foot of the massage table would be able to sneak a peek at her privacy if so inclined. She was unable to conceal a gasp as the masseuse suddenly gripped her ankles and pulled her legs back apart.

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.

Private Show (Izzy)

Submitted by Izzy

Playing along to the Private Show audio, trying to endure the pleasure and not climax. Will she complete the challenge or suffer a ruined orgasm?

Soundgasm link

Soundgasm link 2 (audio plays with separate channels for clarity of audio, more immersive and recommended for headphones).

The Village Ritual

The flame of pleasure once again scorches through her, though again it is not enough. All she can do is grind up and down on the rock-hard member that continues to feed on her ecstasy. The demons needed her to continue, and they wouldn’t be satisfied until they had their fill.

Every year she had to perform the same ritual for the sake of her village. There was no telling what these beings would do if they were unleashed upon the village to search and satiate their appetite, so she did what she must every year – offer herself as the sacrifice to their lustful needs.

For the entire night, they use her body one after the other, caressing, groping and penetrating her, each year growing more accustomed to just what turns her on the most. Although she is used to it now, however, the first time was quite a shock, a level of torment that she had not expected. The demons fed solely off of her pleasure, therefore, every time she came, that orgasm was sapped from her into the beings. Not only was the orgasm taken from her in the sense of its energy, but also the very sensation itself, meaning that every time she came, only the first millisecond of it could be felt before it was stolen so cruelly from her. The first couple of years were torture – when she had originally submitted herself to be the martyr of the village – now she knew exactly what to expect, though it never made it any easier to withstand.

In order to build up enough sexual energy for it, she abstained from sex for most of the year, meaning she came very few times throughout the year, making it all the more difficult to endure this torment of being kept from experiencing a full orgasm. The demons, of course, seemed to enjoy this sense of torment, making sure she had little rest. There was no denying that it was a pleasure, unlike anything else, for her to be the very centre of such sexual energy, to have her own body being the object of their lust and very being. Even the minuscule bout of pleasure from the orgasm torn from her was enough to keep her wanting the next – if only they’d give her respite just once, to let her enjoy it just that one time.

Star Of The Show

You could have been cautious, though perhaps you wouldn’t have done a single thing differently.

For the first few days in college, you kept to yourself as you always had. Buried in your books as if raising your head would necessitate the need to interact with the world outside of them, a safe haven from the complications and discomfort that interactions can bring. It wasn’t that you didn’t occasionally look fondly at the relationships of others around you. It’s just that the fear of the unknown wouldn’t allow you to traverse outside the safe haven of your solitude.

‘The shy girl,’ that’s how Julia first referenced you. Few terms could make you withdraw further than being directly labelled as shy, yet the more Julia spoke to you throughout your first week in college, the more that you realised this person, who you deemed ‘the cool girl’, wanted to befriend you. It took a little while to coax you out of your shell a little more, yet the prospect of not just making a friend, but befriending one of the most popular people in college, allowed you to feel more accepted.

Often in the past, you’d looked on, wanting to not just win people over but also be admired, yet too afraid of any imagined repercussions and confrontations to commit yourself and push past your fears of rejection. Yet here you were, the first couple of weeks of college and already friends with THE Julia.

You had known before when people’s eyes were lingering on you. Since Julia befriended you, her remarks on how attractive you are helped you not only appreciate the gazes but also meet them head-on. While you weren’t quite ready to actively hang around with Julia’s clique, you couldn’t deny that the thought of being amongst the popular group was enticing. Being around Julia had helped you realise that your interests and hobbies weren’t a cause to be the outsider – she shared many of the same likings. In fact, she admired your love of reading, writing and photography. For once, your pastimes weren’t making you feel like an outsider.

Rookie Cheerleader

“You know why I’m here… If you want to truly be one of us, you’ve got to know who is in charge.”

The team leader had planned to pay a visit to this rookie cheerleader’s apartment for some time. Now that she had her all to herself, she was going to take her time playing with her prey. The newcomer was certainly talented during rehearsals, though to truly test her, there was only one way to be sure that she’d be the right pick for the team.

Just Enough

Time had lost all importance: not a moment had passed where his shaft had not felt the soft, wet, teasing sensations of a tongue sliding up and down, flicking against his manhood continuously. He wanted nothing more than for them to just keep wrapping those gorgeous lips around him, to grant the mercy of a more physically impacting pleasure; the two knew this and it fueled their desires even more.

They gazed sensually at the object of their lust, relishing the sensation of his throbbing cock against their tongues, knowing exactly when to slow down, to prolong the joy. They could feel the fast beat of his heart pulsing through his shaft, twitching in the rhythm of his sexual exertion.

The fluttering of their lapping tongues drove him wild, yet for what must have been hours, the sensations had cruelly not been enough to tip him over the edge, keeping him locked in a perpetual state of pleasure. One of the girls kept a hand tightly around the base of his shaft, feeling every surge that pumped through his cock, knowing just when the pinnacle was near. It constantly pulsed and she knows there was no denying it any longer. Never had his cock felt so erect, so full and so complete. Their tongues continued to work him, not changing even as his ecstasy erupted. Every inch of him seized as pleasure overcame him, every minute they had kept him locked in this arousal now climaxing in one moment. Having been teased for so long with such little flickers of sensation, even those minute touches were finally enough to at last topple him over into orgasm. As long as he stayed erect though, they would continue to carry on just as before.