Every second seems to contain an hour’s worth of desire.
“You can give in at any time.”
Your lover keeps the camera pinned to your writhing frame, a documentation of your slowly fading will power.
You had been so determined, so sure of yourself at the time, adamant that he wasn’t able to simply turn you on at his whim; you had wanted to prove to him that you could easily control yourself, yet it slowly began to feel like you were trying to prove it to yourself just as much.
Half knowing just how much it turns him on to watch you struggle with your own desires, half wanting to test your own limits, you agreed to the little game. He told you to keep your arms behind your back, not to move them from that position, all while whispering to you just how much he has wanted to tease you like this, yet the words still echo through your mind even now as you writhe with need.
“This isn’t about you acting as a sub or me acting as a dom… I am simply going to make your body and mind respond to me beyond words; I don’t want you to submit to me… I want you to crave me”.
At this he placed a blindfold on you before turning you to face him.
“Every 2 minutes, I’ll move an inch lower… unless you give in and beg me for more, then I’ll give you what you want”
Before you could even utter a word of inquiry, his lips pressed to yours, savouring the softness of your mouth, before pulling back just as instantly, leaving his lips to flutter achingly close to your own. Lingering so close, you felt the soft tingle of his lips barely touching yours, yet you restrained yourself from leaning closer to kiss them, knowing that is exactly what he was trying to make you do. You exhaled suddenly as the softness of his mouth pressed to your bottom lip, so delicately plump red; you wanted nothing more than to kiss back, but you fought it while he sucked on your lower lip, hearing that wet little smack as he pulled away. Not letting you speak a word, he suddenly kissed you again, giving you the full contact you had been restraining yourself from pushing forward for. With your lips locked, your tongues swirled against one another, letting your mind trail into thoughts of that wet, slippery tongue, thinking of just what other things it could be doing to you.
The 2 minutes seemed to vanish in a heartbeat, leaving you to compose your breathing once his mouth trailed along your neck, just below your chin. Your breath seemed to catch in your throat after he trailed to either side of your neck, his warm breath sweeping along your skin, just as he nibbled on your ear lobes, sucking on them so gently.
The next 2 minutes was spent leaving you to your own imagination behind the blindfold, while he used his fingers to press against your neck, occasionally pressing his palm against it, as if signifying his presence over you.
Once he reached the nape of your neck, you started breathing heavier, his mouth clenched around that sensitive area, feeling his teeth gently pressing to you. The moment his mouth parted from your skin, you seemed to feel every particle of his breath cool on that little patch, the soft wisp of air against the now wet nape of your neck.
“Getting a little restless?” He asked as his lips trailed across your upper chest, letting his fingertips run along your cleavage. You stubbornly refused to reply, even though the next 2 minutes began to test your resolve once his fingers began to dance across your exposed breasts.
He seemed to know just how difficult it was getting for you the more his fingers and mouth worked those inches of your breasts, focusing all around them, not letting an inch of those heaving globes avoid his attention. Inch by inch he moved down your breasts, you were sure he could feel your heart beat pumping beneath your chest, feeling the rise and fall picking up the more entranced with desire you were becoming.
Every 2 minutes that he started to work down your body, down your stomach, seemed to last hours; left to let your mind linger on all the things he could do to you, your sex was now aching for attention, yet still it felt so far away as his kisses, his teasing fingertips and his trailing tongue would not waver away from taking the full 2 minutes to work their way further downwards.
You wondered if he could even feel your pulse against his lips as they pressed along your sternum and down your tummy… past your navel. Your resolve was soon giving way once your hips and waist was under his attentions. His fingertips seemed intent on tormenting you, tracing along your panty line as slow as possible, making the 2 minutes linger.
Slowly, he began to peel your panties down, folding them an inch further as the time elapsed, exposing more of your pelvis, more of your hips to trace kisses along. Once the top of your mound was exposed, he seemed to know you were fighting an internal conflict. While your breathing had increased as his tongue slide along your waist, along your pelvis, down to that slender raised curve, your hips were rocking with a need for more. The way his lips pressed around your skin, letting his tongue dart over areas so close to your wanting sex, he seemed to be showing you just what that place a couple of inches lower could be feeling. The way his fingers and palms pressed around the curve of your waist, forcing you to picture those hands grasping your hips tight, holding you tight to feast on your sex, holding you tight to penetrate you.
However headstrong you had been, however much of a fight you had always put up to show you were no push over, you could no longer hide the fact that his slow teasing had broken down your defences, leaving you with the desperation for more, the pleasure of submitting to your own erotic desires. He had felt it as well, the heat radiating from you, the trembling of your skin, and the swaying of your hips. Just as you thought it would come, to feel that soft, wet mouth move an inch or two lower and clamp around your tender, tingling wet pussy, he moved away, leaving you in the state you are in now, aching for more.
He adjusts the camera to hone in on the writhing of your hips; a picture of sexuality, as the words he next utters penetrates your thoughts.
“Just an inch lower and you’ll feel my tongue whip against your clitoris, another inch, and these fingertips will feel every twitch of your pussy. Tell me that you submit to your needs… and I will fulfil them”.
Image created by a-mind-full-of-dirt
Caption/mini story created by PleasureTorture
In this moment, she is nothing but a helpless exhibition of lust.
The show had been a hit for the night, the audience all applauding at every expected moment, yet the erotic dancing and the simulated displays of passion were all merely a warm up for the main act.
After an evening of enjoyable yet light entertainment, the audience were anticipating what they had been truly waiting for, ready for the curtains to open once more for the final show.
Silence descended over the room as the curtains opened, revealing the nameless starlet, hanging helplessly and exposed to the female teaser standing beside her, ready to give the crowd what they wanted; a wet, tantalising heat seemed to radiate from the stage as the teaser wordlessly began her work.
The audience sat in silence, appreciating the beauty before them, each devouring the visual splendour, soothed with the delicious whimpers of arousal drifting through the room like the softest notes of music ever played. The starlet could not stop herself from whimpering and moaning with pleasure while the silence of the audience, locked in awed concentration, seemed to amplify the sound of every wet slap to her pussy. Every stroke and teasing touch made her shiver in need for more, yet she knew that the teaser was not here to give her such relief; the audience was here to see much more.
The teaser knew just when to hold back and just when to push a little further, just when to nibble the girl’s pussy lips and just when to push forward and suck on her clitoris hard. The only time the audience made any noise was when murmurs of appreciation spread amongst them once the starlet began to beg.This is exactly what the audience had come to see, desire at its rawest, at its purest, at its most intense.
The cold ice sinks against your hot mound…
You cannot take something so directly intense against your delicate body, yet there is no choice. These unfathomable sensations are not being offered to you, they are being thrust upon you.
The heat of your pussy melts the ice fast, leaving only the press of wet fingertips to rub hard against your sex.
Your hands tied, your eyes blindfolded… you are rendered a helpless single entity of pleasure. Your entire body is now an erogenous zone; no matter how much you try, nothing will stop the attentions being focused on the points which devour you the most intensely… When you feel your thighs being pushed and held apart, you know there is no stopping it.
The ice seems to pull every nerve ending of your body along with its cold, captivating touch. It renders you speechless. Nothing could prepare you for that… the feeling of such a silky smooth, cold, sliding touch that manages to make your insides feel hotter. The shock of such a feeling keeps your nipples tingling with arousal; for a moment your attention has been pulled away from your aching pussy, yet attention draws back there just as fast.
So close… yet so slow and deliberate. All self-control over your body has been overcome by the sharp, wet tingle that the ice cube trails across your skin. Not being able to see it makes the sensation manifest itself deep within you, making every touch linger for so long.
The moment it touches your bare sex, your world implodes in a flash of intensity.
Lost behind the blindfold, left to wander through your own imagination; the slightest contact to your clitoris is all that your mind and body can comprehend. It is as if the world itself is focusing on manipulating your most sensitive little spot, so intense that nothing could possibly exist after these moments.
You wonder how such a small amount of contact could make you quiver with need so much. Your hands strain against the wrappings around them, not to escape, it is simply your body trying to regain a sense of control… a sense of control that those fingertips against the smooth mound of those panties are quickly taking away. Just think of how it will feel once that thin line of defence which rests so tightly against your sex is removed…
You almost become afraid of how sensitive your body is, just as the gentle sensation of a feather tip touch and the wet tip of a tongue against your nipple manages to take your breath away. Your breath seems to follow the trail of the feather tip, the light touch drawing air up from the bottom of your lungs, tracing up your cleavage, forcing your breath out from your throat in a sigh of pure arousal.
The energising, sensual tickle which circles your breasts and teases your nipples seems to draw endless surges of longing to those swollen peaks. You realise that wherever the feather leads, it brings every ounce of your thoughts with it, regardless of whether you are trying to avoid the feelings or not.
Lost in your own lustful thoughts, you have become a slave to your body…
The feeling of the silk against your wrists sends a surge of warmth along every inch of your skin, the creamy, weightless softness letting you know that nothing you feel after this moment will be in your own hands. The eroticism of such a thought drifts directly to the softening flesh between your thighs… you tremble in anticipation.
You are told not to speak, told simply to lose yourself in the experience. The blindfold further locks you inside yourself, keeping you fantasising about the sensations, amplifying every light touch on your skin. Every light drifting touch across your cleavage and across your nipples makes your skin tingle…
She had been told to masturbate to the edge in front of her lover’s gaze every night, holding herself back and showing how much she could control it; now she was paying for the mistake of giving in to her urge to keep going. She was not stopped, instead those hungry eyes fed on seeing her yield to desperation, already knowing how to punish her properly.
There was a sadistic glee in seeing her tortured with unyielding pleasure, a pleasure so intense it verges on pain. How those hips had rocked and swayed in pleasure when she came the other night, now she was being made to suffer, held immobile, desperate to thrust her hips and pull her body in all directions, yet unable to move an inch away from the buzzing torture device she once thought of as merely a toy.
“That’s it… you wanted to cum didn’t you? Now you can have all the orgasms you want sweetie, plus you don’t have to worry about that powerful vibrator moving away from your pussy. It’s a good job I put the ball gag in, I’ve never heard you scream like that! Good girl, I think I’ll just sit here and watch you suffer…such a wonderful sight.”
Whether teasing your own body with the instructions from someone else, or holding yourself back with your own willpower, you can never hide your longing. You don’t need to beg or plead or even say a word, the desperation in every little moan and sigh always rings through like an exhibition of submission. The next time your fingers tease that little wet sex, pay attention to how those little moans of need escape your lips, listen to how erotic your own little sighs of pleasure are.