“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

“See? That’s how you want her to be, with her hips constantly rocking and swaying in need for you to give her what you want. When she keeps saying that she wants you to make her beg, she really means it. No matter how much she whines and moans and squeals out that she wants to come, do not give in. She wouldn’t have asked for me to help you both with this if she truly wanted you to make her orgasm every time she asked for it.

No, just carry on watching. I know you want to fuck her bad; she’d give anything for you to slide that into her right now, but that is exactly why I’m here, you’ve got to learn to wait until she really can’t take any more, and I know fully well that she can take more teasing than this. 

Right now, she is feeling like her clitoris is five times its size, with the sensation of her heartbeat seeming to radiate from her throbbing pussy. Soon you can come closer, and we’ll start to use your cock to tease her wet little entrance, but I want to play with her a little more first. I just love the way her hips try and entice me for more. Besides, we still have another two hours of the session left. You might as well get your money’s worth.”

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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.

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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. 

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The Club

She had been to this sex club many times before, if nothing more than to simply watch and enjoy the spectacle throughout the rooms; when she heard of the forced orgasm play room however, she thought that she’d have to finally get involved. She’d always wanted to experience the thrill of being made to come beyond her control, yet when her wrists were securely strapped, she began to wonder how much she’d be able to take. She was happy to let anyone have a turn using the toys on her, so long as her lingerie was kept on. Once she felt the immense vibration of the wand vibrator however, she felt entirely naked. The powerful buzzing against her pussy made it feel as if there was nothing between the vibrator and her delicate skin.

With the combination of such excitement from taking part and the intense new feelings that the toy was bringing her, the first orgasm took little time to hit her – and hit her hard it did. Her breath was taken away in an instant as her climax wracked her body. Only the chains could hold her up as her legs gave way, the vibrator and its handler not giving any respite. The second and third orgasms shook her to the very core. So unrelenting and penetrating was this vibration to her sex that it almost scared her how much of an effect it was having. Still it did not stop.

No matter how much she tried to close her legs, they would not stop using the vibrator on her. No matter how much she looked at them in a pleading way, begging with them that she couldn’t orgasm any more, they still continued to make her come. Only after her clitoris became numb with over-sensitivity and her pussy lips were swollen red were the cuffs on her wrists removed.

Once carefully taken down, she was led to a chair to rest, yet little did she know that it was not over yet. While collecting herself and regaining her breath and composure, they began restraining her to the chair. While she could have easily told them that she had reached her limit, somehow, the words wouldn’t come out; she wanted to see where this would take her. While in her mind, she was curious as to whether she could come again, her body was not ready for it; the vibrator pressed to her overstimulated pussy and made every muscle in her body clench. Screaming, she tried all she could to get away from the stimulation, but it did no good. After fighting to swivel her hips and close her thighs to the torrent of torturous pleasure, she gave in and said she was finished. While it stopped, the man, now in control of the wand, spoke.

“Okay… just one more orgasm, and then we can untie you.”

Screaming, writhing and almost in tears of pleasure, that was the most intense, rewarding orgasm she would ever have.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Your fingers torment your delicacy at the whim of your imagination, never letting you give way to the orgasm you so desire. He returns to add to your torment, that stranger, that embodiment of male physicality, a hunger for your soft, tender, sensitive body. You feel her spread your pussy for his pulsating length, your body tensing in both your mind’s eye and in reality. Your fingers act out the cruel teasing, slipping part in and out, the tip of his cock penetrating you then pulling out just as your pussy lips quiver for more, your tight hole convulsing for the shaft that is not there. You wonder why you don’t allow yourself the release: the way your body shudders repeatedly on the brink, yearning for that sweet orgasmic eruption, yet still something within you keeps you locked within the confines of pleasure torture.

Over and over you slide in and out, feeling his cock tease you, feeling it slick with your own juices as it slips effortlessly back inside once again. You want to come so much you scream, the feeling of him thrusting in and out a few times is alone enough to nearly send you over the edge, yet still you stop yourself as his stiffness slips from within you once more.

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Many More Hands

The final day: after a full week of being massaged so sensually night after night without the relief of masturbation, she was trembling with arousal and anticipation as soon as she entered the class once more.

Just as the previous nights, the girl stripped in front of the waiting class of massage students before lying on the table. This time, however, the class remained standing around the table, watching as the massage instructor approached alone.

“Tonight, I will show you just how to bring a woman to the most intense of orgasms. Watch and learn”.

The instructor then began to massage the girl so delicately, so precisely, it instantly sent a shiver through her spine that seemed to spill out through her body in a hot flood of longing. With such intense, calculated precision, the instructor seemed to be able to make her writhe and tremble with merely the slightest of motions. After so many days of pent-up arousal, she was about ready to scream out for more, yet the instructor knew just how to bring her to the boil and keep her there. The slow, steady, yet constant circulation of stimulation was building up to a level of excitement that the girl had never experienced. The instructor seemed to know just when she was at the pinnacle, when to back off, to let her simmer, to work that little bit faster or apply a little more pressure. Very soon, the girl felt that familiar knot within her pelvis unravel, the tight knot inside her snapping harder than ever before – her orgasm seemed to tear through her body with a breath-taking intensity.

It took so long to come down from that unrivalled peak, the shocks of her orgasm made her body tremble. She was thankful that the instructor’s fingers kept working very slowly to prolong the pleasure without over-stimulating her, slowing down just at the right moments when she became a little too sensitive. She breathed heavily, her feelings of embarrassment rushing back at the knowledge of coming in front of an audience. The aftershocks kept her body shaking, a dreamlike state sweeping over her. It wasn’t until the instructor next spoke that her environment came back into focus.

“Now that you have all seen how it is done, time for you to each have a turn.”

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Hegre-Art