The Whispers

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Unseen forces carry out your most erotic fantasies in this erotic-horror audio tease.

Just as you’ve requested from the invisible beings every night, you hear whispers of erotic scenarios while being sensually touched. If only they’d give you more attention…

Written version below

Don’t you want us to eat you out? Imagine us sucking and licking.

Those whispers return every night, just as you’ve asked them to.

Once again, naked on the bed. You feel their fingertips, countless fingers, teasingly trailing over your chest. A single digit slides down your neck and down your cleavage. It’s as if you are being played with by the air. Nothing in sight. Yet the sensation is unmistakable. Fingertips pressing to your skin leading down. Down over your stomach… so close as it leads further down… and back up.

We could peel back your clitoral hood, expose that tender cherry, and torment it all night.

You knew that they’d return, just as they have done every night, as you had asked them to.

Teasing around your chest in slow circles, hoping that a palm might graze your nipples, already so stiff with anticipation. But they are careful. Those ghostly fingertips, teasing so softly, avoid giving you what you so need.

Finally, circling around your nipples and backing off, the circles grow wider again as you claw at the bed in frustration, wanting them to do so much more. If only you could feel a pinch, or perhaps a nibble. Perhaps have them licked. That would be wonderful. But no, your chest is now massaged gently. Yet, still no contact directly to your nipples.

How many times have you begged them to do more to you? You had hoped that your pussy would get the attention it craved, to be masturbated or finger fucked hard, or finally have a mouth clamp around your clit and suck. Perhaps to feel that deep penetration. But they did not take heed of your request. Just like every night, they asked one simple question…

Every night, you get the same question posed to you.

Would you like us to return?

And you always answer yes.

You’re always begging them for tomorrow to please touch you more, to please finger Fuck you, or suck you or do anything more to you. Instead of just teasing you and leaving. You want them to take you, yet the whispers continue requesting that you do not play with yourself.

Anytime they are gone, you have to avoid playing with yourself each day and night until they arrive, just in case it would have prevented them from coming.

On this cold winter’s eve, you waited. The thunderstorm outside occasionally lighting up the sky, casting a silhouette in the room of just yourself alone. Yet, you sense you are being watched by so many people, countless people standing around, so many to watch you stripping down. There are so many to see the number of fingers sliding over you. Touching you, caressing you, yet avoiding between your legs. Focusing on your upper body, caressing your chest now, hearing those quiet whispers tormenting you.

You always ask us to hold you down. You can’t contain yourself without us taking command of your body.

We’ll continue setting your mind alight. Imagine us making you come over and over. Let your fantasies run on overdrive. You don’t want us to stop or let you go, whether we let you come or not.

Their touches trail across your body,  now circling around your chest again, ever so slowly leading inwards. As you continue arching your body for more, the circles get smaller and smaller, constantly keeping your nipples in your mind’s eye.

You keep your hands flat on the bed as you lie there, wanting to let them do their work on you. Finally, your nipples are circled. They brush over your stiff tips once for every ten times they circle around them.

Is that the relief you need? Just a single stroke over your nipple for every ten circles. It looks like it makes you shiver in even more frustration. Perhaps you’d prefer it if we used paintbrushes directly on them for the entire night? How long would it take until you were screaming and crying for more firm stimulation?

Such a long way away from a cock, from fingers, grinding inside you. Fucking you roughly. It would be so easy to penetrate you such as you need. Yet, still, you’d give anything just for a firm pinch to your nipples.

Now, the fingertips just trail up and down your cleavage. Palms occasionally bush over the tips of your nipples, though the focus remains on the central line from your neck to your stomach, trailing between your breasts.

Those hands wouldn’t just be teasing you; they’d be groping you roughly if you were being fucked. Feeling those balls slapping against you as every inch drove inside. Think of how your chest would be squeezed and held and manhandled during such intense passion. Yet here you are, the softest fingers, countless in number yet all focused on tormenting your chest.

Grinding your hips with desire and anticipation, you feel the fingers slip all across your midriff and sides. You breathe deeply as your chest rises and falls. You pray it attracts more attention, for them to at least pinch you roughly.

Lazily, the fingers continue gliding up and down, your heart beating with anticipation and need, your mouth open as you moan, exhaling your passions.

 You want those balls slapping your ass while he fucks you harder and harder. You would scream out for him to fuck you faster. It’s never enough, so we’ll keep you in that state of longing.

You keep swaying your body and arching your back for more.

For your efforts, you receive a little brief pinch to your nipples. And again, the fingers trail back up and down your cleavage. And another light pinch, so gently.

Again, up and down.

Good girl, so fucking gorgeous.

The fingers move upwards a little more. Just teasing softly over your collarbone. Left and right. As they meet the centre, they slide down your cleavage. They continue that pattern, just trailing over your collarbone and back down the centre. The palms barely pressing over your chest.

We can feel the stiffness of your nipples poking against these palms.

You wish you could see them, to bring some physicality to their actions. It would be easier to beg them to touch you more if you could see your tormentors.

If only you could see these mouths, ready to suck your nipples, to suck against your sensitive clitoris endlessly.

They keep you held down. Your wrists held, your upper body held, just as you requested them to the first night and the second and the third.

You forget how many nights it has been. Yet you’ve always felt so comfortable and safe with them.

Your passion, desire, and pleasure are clearly their only focus. Devouring your constantly rising arousal instead of your soaking wet pussy.

Imagine tongues lapping away at your wetness, while teeth pressed to those achingly stiff nipples. If only you could feel pressure against those tender points.

 And once again, the fingertips glide fully in a circle around your chest, across your collarbone, around the sides, down over your stomach and back upwards along your cleavage.

Now, directly around each breast and just trailing over your chest. Fingertips sweeping up and down: the thumbs brushing your nipples on the downward motion, fingers gliding around them on the path up.

Every tongue of every lover. All combine to make you constantly convulse in orgasmic bliss. Every cock you’ve ever felt inside your body, pulsing and swollen. Every finger that has wanted to explore you so thoroughly. All combine to make you scream in bliss. It’s what you crave, isn’t it? It makes this slow torture so much worse to endure.

The whispers ensure you picture things far more graphic, direct, and explicit than what the actions entail. The juxtaposition of such soft, slow, gentle teasing with the rough, intense imagery they conjure.

Lying on your back, your legs spread, his cock pounding you while someone else was down there, sucking on your clit at the same time.

The fingertips sweep left and right over those nipples, making you arch into it, wanting more.

You can hear it, can’t you? The wet sounds of penetration. Your dripping wet opening being pummelled. Perhaps you need those same fingers that tease your nipples to be inside you. They could penetrate you faster than a cock ever could.

Out of nowhere, a firm pinch against your nipples.

 They pull them up and suddenly release them. They go back to circling them again.

Just like every night, you wonder whether it’s worth screaming out and begging them to do more to you or whether it’s better to simply lie there and let them do their work. Their incredible erotic work.

They grope you now, groping you just as you wanted. Firmly. Almost making you imagine being in the midst of those passions they had made you fantasize about.

They return to circling your chest again after thirty seconds of groping.

They circle you for a few seconds before groping again. Continuing that pattern of circling and then squeezing, making you wonder if they might return to giving you the pinches you crave.

With flattened palms, they stroke over your chest, letting only the tips of your nipples feel the contact you so desperately need.

Just as you make to beg them, to cry out for more, it happens. They are pinched, roughly pinched and tweaked. Rolled back and forth between thumb and finger. It’s what you needed, what your body has been crying out for. It doesn’t stop. The firm attention to those stiffened peaks. You arch into it, your ass pressing into the bed, your shoulders pushing against the mattress, lifting your chest up to embrace the attention you have finally received.

Good girl.

You feel like you could weep as the pinching stops, as all touching ceases.

Would you like us to return tomorrow?

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