Bathe

You hear the urges in your mind as if they are my whispered instructions.

You want to give in to that warm depth, to sink within the delights of your own body; the urge to bring yourself to orgasm right now overwhelms you. Your body glistens, so sleek, soft, and wet, imagining these hands soaping up every inch of your body, sliding down smoothly between your thighs.

You see those ripe, swollen, shining breasts, thinking how slippery and supple they would feel within my grasp. The thought of them being groped and fondled sends a surge through to the peaks of your nipples.

You hold off for as long as you can, until your body screams for a deeper touch. Keeping those fingers working slowly, slipping to your depths and back out, you caress the soft wet petals of your entrance. Giving in to your own desires, the thought of being finger-fucked intensely seems to possess your body, as if it were controlled by my own hands, drilling you relentlessly. The swish of water thumps through the room as the wet slaps of your fingers penetrating yourself pushes your body beyond the abyss of pleasure.

Your body trembles as you fantasize of your body as a victim of lust, fingers that would be curling inside you and feeling the wet silk of your quivering sex, not stopping or slowing down as you shake in the waves of an unyielding orgasm.

The picture floods your mind… a hand pressed to your chest, holding you back, the other between your thighs, fingering you with merciless intensity, fingers curled and pushing up within you to make sure every stroke against the rough little patch of your g-spot makes you scream out. As soon as you come back to reality, you will want to disappear back to the confines of pleasure just as fast. 

Every time you look down between your thighs, you will know that sweet pussy is mine to command, every whispered instruction will set your mind alight. 

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image submission by: alittlelonelybabygirl

Teacher and Student

In this room she is his. Like a lion assessing its prey, the teacher’s eyes survey her hungrily. She knows exactly why she is here, yet her feigns of innocence make him even more intent on following through with what he had always implied to her. Her favourite college class was about to get so much better.

So often this student had teased him so subtly during lessons, flirting with him at every opportunity and wearing the skimpiest outfits all for his enjoyment. It wasn’t until he started to whisper things to her during lectures, in the guise of offering help with work, that he came to realise the hold that he had over her. The way her hand always slid under the desk any time he approached, to whisper more things in her ear, telling her just what he’d like to do to her, how he’d love to strip her right there and then. So slender, so full of desire, so delicate, so perfect for him to dominate.

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Playing Doctor

The future and the past all feel like a dreary haze, a liquid entity that would merely slip through her fingers, the only solidity is in the present: the longing, the torment, the unendurable present that consumes her.

Occasionally the instances that brought her here flash in her mind, an insignificant check-up with the doctor… that check-up which had stirred so much within. She had thought the prescription would be of little consequence, yet the constant arousal within her after taking it seemed to be too out of the ordinary to ignore. When she had brought it up with the doctor at subsequent visits, he simply gave her a short examination, one which involved him touching her more than she had a feeling was necessary; it was as if he could see her thoughts and had delved into those locked away fantasies. After the examination, he’d given her a stronger dose to take, unsurprisingly, it made her even hornier. The more she masturbated, the more the desire seemed to consume her. Day and night, sexual thoughts clouded her mind while the desire to touch lingered without respite. She couldn’t take it, she had to return. She did not even question it when she was made to change into a gown, as if she were to be staying for a long duration, nor did she question him requesting that she changed there in his office, the idea turned her on even more. All she wanted was for the sensations to die down, yet the thought of his eyes lingering on her made her melt inside, she tried to pretend that it was the prescription that had made her lust after this man even more.

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New Year’s Eve

Just another couple of hours and then the new year. Just another couple of hours… and then you’ll get what you need.

What started as a simple challenge had become a battle of wills. Hearing the moans, the desperate cries for release, made it so much harder to hold on. The biggest rule was that when somebody called out that they were about to come, the other person must stop and let them rest, no matter how tempting it was to make them go over the edge. They all agreed that nobody could climax until midnight, until it was the new year. Anybody who failed to hold back would spend all of January in a state of denial.

You close your eyes for a moment, as if to shut away the onslaught of imagery that tempts you, yet all it does is make you focus on the sensations driving you closer. You open them again and simply look around, trying to take your mind off of the mouth that is working you to the brink. Watching a couple suck each other does not help, seeing the woman on top wrap her lips around that pulsating length while her lover does all he can to frustrate her further. With her legs straddling his head, he grasps her ass while continuing to suck her clitoris, as if pulling her closer and letting her know that she isn’t going anywhere else until one of them gives. It won’t be long until he begins to pump his hips up and down, then she’ll know that she has him right where she wants. 

You gaze around the room as you feel your own impending orgasm wreak havoc, wanting so desperately to just give in. The sounds of sex continues to pour fuel on the flames; the wet slapping sounds of skin meeting skin, the aching moans of desire echoing throughout. Women bounce up and down on the laps of their partners, feeling every inch twitching within at the moment they are told to stop. Those mischievous grins signal that they want nothing more than to just jerk their waist up and down once more, to force that stiff length to convulse in pleasure and see their man cry out in orgasmic joy. Yet still midnight is some time away, more time to keep those stiff cocks swollen and in need for more. 

You want to come so badly, for that mouth to just bring you over the pinnacle, yet you hold out… soon you’ll get what you need. Your attention is pulled to a woman screaming out as her pussy is devoured, letting everyone know that she can’t take it, that she just needs to come. The woman between her legs looks up and tells her no, that it isn’t time yet. A shiver of arousal runs through your spine at hearing those words, then seeing the woman lean her head down and begin again. The way she is lapping away at the woman’s dripping pussy makes it clear that she is taking much delight in evoking such moans and squeals of frustration. 

Various couples look into one another’s eyes, as if feeding off of their arousal and trying to will the other to give in, to succumb to their desires. It’s so erotic, to know what they are all feeling, to understand that deep, bubbling climax is ready to spill over and gush forth, to know that it is their own body that is doing this to them. 

You feel your orgasm taking hold, the fight between wanting to hold back and recover, and wanting the mouth to never stop tormenting you. Everything within yearns to just let go as the countdown begins. Ten seconds is all it will take… yet the tightening in your core, those little tremors within, telling you that you may not last. The fireworks are about to go off. Ten… nine… eight… so close….

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Vixen

Thirty-Minutes

Surely a video of somebody else, a doppelganger of your own quivering body, yet you know that it is yourself you are seeing, turning to the side and watching the footage on the screen as if watching a stranger writhing with need.

It is these short moments of rest that linger the most cruelly; you know by now that begging for them to give you what you need so badly will do nothing. You can merely turn and watch yourself from the angle of the recording, watching them zoom in and adjust the camera filming every moment of your blissful suffering. You have long since given up the struggle of pulling on the restraints; all efforts are focused on the pulsating desire within you.

You had agreed so naively, thinking it would simply be a little erotic fun to be filmed, thinking it would just be something arousing to masturbate to in future. The joy of having pleasure being focused on you, something that had been missing in your busy life and hectic schedule. Yet now that seems so long ago, never had you realised that this coursing pleasure would burn so deeply inside, never dying down, simply simmering within.

From the moment your hands were tied above your head, it seemed as if it was their goal to tease you to madness. Taking turns, they made sure there was always at least three pairs of hands touching you at all times. The way their fingertips and palms worked so slowly seemed to stimulate your body as if you had never been touched before in your life.

For half an hour they tormented you, yet not even touching your nipples or clitoris until the final minutes. All the while they whispered into your ears, telling you exactly what the cameras were showing, telling you just how delicate the movements of your body are as they started to brush and flicker over those most sensitive little peaks. In the last seconds they finally brought you to the edge… then always left you alone, walking away behind the camera to leave you teetering cruelly on the pinnacle. One minute always passed, the camera picking up every display of uncontrollable longing, then another thirty minutes of relentless teasing… on and on until this point in time, where you feel as if your throbbing clitoris is the only thing in the room with a pulse.

They toy with you in unison, an orchestra of pleasure playing your body like an instrument, leaving you to watch yourself bucking your hips up and down with need, silently screaming for the climax. As you writhe in tortured pleasure, you think about what they had just whispered to you: that in one minute you should keep your eyes on the screen to watch yourself as a mouth finally sucks against your clitoris. A shiver runs through you at the thought.

 Any second now, a tongue will find the pulsating, agonising beauty of your tender cherry.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Submission by: a-mind-full-of-dirt