The Being

Overcome by a sudden urge to pleasure herself, Melissa stripped and began stroking her sensitive pussy like her life depended on it. Even though it usually took a while for her to get into things and start to get close, this time it seemed like the flames of orgasm were rising within the very moment her fingers swept over her delicate mound. She couldn’t believe how wet she was, yet there was no time to ponder what had caused this outburst of desire. All that mattered was that she came.

It was mere seconds for her to feel ready to come. Minutes soon passed. Still, there was no end, as if she were trapped in that same cycle of arousal with no outlet. No matter how fast she stroked or how intently her fingers pressed, whether she slid inside or just honed in on her clitoris, Melissa could not overcome the pinnacle. The more she tried, the more she needed it, like a well of pleasure with no limit to what it could hold. She had no idea how long she had been masturbating, but tears of frustration began to form. It soon seemed as if every sexual scenario and erotic fantasy had been cycled through her mind. Nothing seemed enough to tip her over the edge.

It was too intense of a need to give up, yet when she decided to try and have a moment of rest, to see if a break would help, that was when she realised that she couldn’t stop. As hard as she tried, her hands would not pull away. Over and over, she willed herself to relent, all to be met with the same constant friction against her engorged clitoris. It must have been an hour of being held in this state, sweat lining her body and her pussy dripping a constant stream of arousal. Once she had given in, however, when it wouldn’t have mattered if the entire neighbourhood walked in on her and watched, that the words formed in her mind.

“Such a luscious feast to delight in. Do not fight against it, Melissa, as I will reward you with that which you crave.”

The voice seemed distant, yet it was whispered to her as if a thought within her own mind. While her eyes remained closed, Melissa could feel a presence above her, a presence which seemed to communicate with her own thought.

“Yes, I am controlling your every movement and sensation. No, begging will not help you. You will not come, Melissa, until your pleasure has satisfied my appetite. I have not fed in quite some time. Patience.”

With that, her arms and legs were spread out as if entrapped by restraints. While her own contact with her sopping-wet pussy had ceased, the pulsating sensation of being on the brink did not. Neither did the constant contractions of need or the twitching of her swollen clit. This Being, which Melissa could not see, was able to read her every thought, thus sensing every minute sensation. It was these pleasures that it fed on; tonight, it was going to gorge on her. By not letting her come, it could take all the time it wanted. Letting the pleasure seep as if whetting its appetite, suckling on every drip of sensation like it was lapping away at the torrent of her flowing pussy juices.

Honing in on her deepest fantasies, the feeling of multiple hands massaged every inch of her body. Always stopping just a hair’s breadth away from the sensitive spots that needed to be touched most. Her nipples, which soon were screaming for attention, soon got what they needed once the possibility arose of her coming down from the highest points of frustration. Keeping her so close to the edge without relief, a pull on her nipples made her arch in shock. The Being could read everything her body needed to stay centred on the verge of orgasm. What felt like tiny tendrils snaked around her nipples like a lasso trapping them, pulling ever tighter when she became accustomed to the sensation. Suddenly, what could only be perceived as an oil-dipped paintbrush, or even wet silk, was slipping over the tips of those painfully stiff nipples. Melissa cried out loudly, partly at what could be felt right then but also at the thought of how horrifyingly wonderful this would feel on her clitoris. She wondered for a moment that there would be no way it could stop her from coming then, maybe even the chance to will herself to climax.

“Do not underestimate me, foolish girl.”

At that moment, her clitoral hood was peeled back even further to expose the entirety of that tender morsel. Melissa then let out a scream that seemed to never cease, wailing into the blank void until she couldn’t tell whether the screams and whimpers were being vocalised or just in her head. All caused by the feeling of a single tendril wrapping around her exposed clitoris and kneading it constantly. She could not believe that she wasn’t coming just after the first second of this torment. The telepathic being was able to keep her in this state for as long as it wished to feed, with no mental or physical harm. After hours of this torture, it was ready to enjoy the main course.

“Such a delicacy.”

Melissa wasn’t able to tell the difference whether the sensations were physical or just implanted through her mind, yet when a tentacle plunged into her depths, the reaction was the same. Every inch of her body seemed to freeze in shock as the orgasm was thrust upon her with no warning. The tentacle itself was covered in nubs that vibrated within, pressing against just the right places. It twisted and writhed within her in ways that made her body erupt. This was clearly not about simulating sex. This was all about bringing her to heights that would have made any other human faint if not for this thing keeping her constantly awake and aware. To keep itself fed, it was not going to ever let Melissa have the mercy of unconsciousness. The being fed on her pleasure joyously, her climax a most fulfilling feast. It made her come again, then again, until she could not even think. A world populated by nothing but the most intense of pleasures. Every time it seemed like the sensations would cease a little, The Being switched its methods, changing from caressing her nipples and clitoris to sucking them within silky wet mouths. Pinching, tweaking, thrusting and massaging, always stimulating and never subsiding.

“I think I’ll be full in a few hours.”

Even through the confines of her orgasmic hell, it made sure Melissa understood precisely how long she’d have to endure this.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: DT Films

One thought on “The Being”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *