Tendrils

Waking in the brightly lit cell, she had no idea where she was or how she had come to be here. An alien abduction? Kidnapped by scientists? There was no telling. All she could recall was last being in her room masturbating, having brought herself to the edge multiple times before finally about to give in to her overflowing need. Suddenly, everything went black: then she was here, her body still glowing with the unfulfilled promise of release.

She was only half conscious of the surroundings, feeling lost in a hazy limbo, unable to even fully notice the mechanical tendrils that were wrapping themselves around her limbs. Only when the creeping tentacles crawled down within her underwear did she seem to regain herself, though it was too late to do anything about it; now, the unknown tendrils were trapped within the confines of the material and against her delicate sex. 

The room seemed to be completely closed off, with no evidence of anybody (or anything) watching. The tentacles which were exploring her seemed to be entirely robotic. Wasting little time, they stroked and teased along the outer folds of her pussy in a way which shocked the helpless girl: softer and more attentively than could ever have been imagined. The fact that fear had not overcome her arousal at first made her think it must be a dream, though no dream could ever feel this vivid, this physically direct. With every segment of her skin that the tendrils touched, a sizzle of electric pleasure shot across her. Though it was not merely a response from her body, it felt to be an electrical shock directly from the tips of these exploring feelers, emitting literal electric pleasure everywhere they touched. While they had been slipping along her pussy, trailing along the wet folds of flesh, they had not touched her clitoris yet; the thought of how that would feel made her heart race.

The more her mind was cleared of the haze she had been lost in, feeling more physically within her surroundings, the more these things were turning her body into a writhing hive of sensation. The tiny tendrils began exploring her far more intimately, slipping into her sex and spreading her pussy, exposing her clitoris but still not touching it directly. Her entrance seemed to instantly be filled with intoxicating pleasure as if she were being fucked by the very embodiment of sexual arousal. No longer was she thinking about her predicament or what any of it meant. All she could focus on was the constant onslaught of ecstasy that continued to penetrate her body and mind.

Her hips rocked, and her legs kicked out to the wonders that were overcoming her body, though it was always just barely on the tipping point of orgasm, never quite enough to truly set her over, which made it almost unbearable. Once the tendrils began caressing her g-spot, she strained against those that held her limbs in place. For so long, she was kept on the verge of that breaking point, unable to will herself, touch herself or even call out to anything to help… it soon turned from a limbo of pleasure to a prison of frustration. There was no way of registering time; all she could continue to do was pray that her release came soon.

After what seemed like hours of constant torment, with the tentacles teasing continuously around the outer edges of her entrance while they still explored every sensitivity of her delicate pussy, she wondered if they merely intended to endlessly torture her this way. The tendrils, however, were merely preparing her for the heights of ecstasy. For this entire time, her clitoris throbbed with longing, swollen and pulsing with the rhythm of her pounding heartbeat. With the electric pleasure that the tentacles emitted, she feared how intense it would be if they touched her there.

With another heave of her hips in desperate longing, a number of tendrils instantly attacked her aching jewel, coiling around it as if lassoing it in pure pleasure. It instantly caused her to open her mouth in a silent scream, a scream that her body was too overcome by to even voice, as the pent-up orgasm was instantly pulled out from within her. The pleasure was torturous, and with the coil not releasing her clitoris, it went on and on and on, orgasm after orgasm being ripped from her body as if directly mined from her clitoris. She wanted to beg, to scream out, yet all she could do was thrash and cry in unbearable pleasure. Wherever this place was, whatever she was a part of, it would not let her lose sensation or pass out. 

In the brief seconds where her orgasms calmed, until the brutality of the next was being shocked out from her clitoris and pussy, she wondered whether she’d wake up, whether it would stop, or whether she’d die from the orgasms. She’d continue to wonder this in those moments, though the orgasms would just keep coming and coming.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Sex Files