internetgothgf:

I still can’t figure out this leg harness setup

lost-girl-23:

Not sure what I was trying to do here but it’s still kinda cute 🐰

pleasuretorture:

Never a warning, never a sign of any change, yet it was
always the same day, October 31^st.

She always made sure she was home, the intoxicating aroma of
dread, arousal and anticipation in the air, keeping her within the house every
night on this date as if a prisoner in her own home.

It was always the same pattern, she would lie in bed, drifting
off into the arms of sleep, when the night was at its most still and silent,
the moonlight always shining through as if to bathe her in the most erotic glow
for the unseen intruder, a preemptive spotlight. At first it was simply a
gentle tease, like the softest of fingertips slowly alerting her body, tracing
up and down her frame and waking both her mind and senses. It brought about the
kind of feelings that made her want to touch herself, though whatever it was
never allowed her to do such a thing, it wanted her pleasure brought about by
itself alone.

Not once was a sound made except her own breathing, though
even after all this time, she still couldn’t stop herself from calling out to
it, even though she knew there would be no reply, though that was always when
things began to get too much… it always got too much by the end.

Once she was fully awake and fully aroused, that’s when it
truly began. The gentle touches became a gentle masturbation. An unseen hand
between her legs always knew just how to touch her, as if it had studied her
own masturbation techniques every single day, wanting to use the knowledge to
bring about the most tormenting night of her life every year. Whenever the
covers were pulled back and her clothes were torn off, the touching became more
unbearable, until she was moaning deeply for more; it clearly could have left
her clothing on, as it somehow was able to manipulate her skin through the
fabric, though it seemed to want her to feel even more vulnerable. The
feeling of fingertips teetering around her sex trailed all throughout her body,
as if the air itself were tantalising her, playing with her. While her hands
were frequently thrust up above her head and down onto the bed to keep her
helplessly in place, she could not prevent herself from trying to fight back.
After all, she knew exactly what was to come; hour upon hour of constant
teasing and denial. The being seemed to savour her moans and screams,
delighting in her thrashing around in tortured bliss as what she felt to be a
mouth pressed firmly to her dripping wet delicacy. As if it could read her very
body and mind, it knew just when she was on the brink, able to hold her there
for as long as possible before backing off just that little. Her screams for
more, for mercy, did nothing to dissuade the entity; the torture continued this
way beyond her tears of frustration.

Ever since the first time, it brought about a new sense of erotic
longing for being teased this way, the joys of having her pleasure held back
until that sweet boiling point. Though even through experimenting with herself,
nothing ever came close to being able to match the pure hell that this thing
brought onto her each year. It just continued to suck and lick as her clitoris seemed
to swell and swell more with every passing second. Time was lost to her, though
it felt like it was denying her like this for hours, just feasting on her pussy
in every way to keep her thighs trembling non-stop. Throughout the entire
ordeal, as much as she cried and pleaded and screamed out, there was no denying
that this was always the most erotic experience she ever had, something that
deep down she longed for every year; the feeling of her pussy juices dripping
down her ass and onto the bed were a testament to that.

Finally, once she thought her clitoris was about to explode,
a throbbing button of heat and aching pleasure, it suddenly lifted her hips
further and began fucking her. She could never truly make out the physiology of
the being, as it managed to switch between penetrating her and licking her
fiercely in a heartbeat, with no real pause in between. The mixture of
sensations though devastated her. At times she wondered if she could pass out
from needing to come so bad; that mercy was never granted. Her body was ravaged
with pleasure from beginning to end, hours of being teased and fucked, drilled
relentlessly with only brief periods of slowing down just in a cruel bid to
keep her from coming.

With the sweat and her own juices dripping from her, she was
a wet mess of indescribable, agonising need. Once it knew she could take no
more, it finally let her have what she needed. The following orgasms that it
forced from her body left her delirious. She screamed so much she thought
police would knock on the door, though nothing ever came, perhaps nobody could
hear. She screamed and screamed in orgasmic ecstasy until she finally did pass
out. Though still the being did not let her go that easily, it continued to eat
her out again until she awoke, wanting her to suffer through another hour of
orgasms, no matter how much it had to push her to endure it. Her cycle of consciousness
and brutal pleasure left her powerless. Weakly she begged for it to stop, using
every safe word and plea she could muster, though it was useless. Once she
finally did pass out for the last time, it left her. She would sleep longer and
deeper on this night than any of the year, waking to know that she’d have a
year to prepare herself for it once again… though there would never truly be
any way to prepare herself, and that she’d never truly know what it was. All
she knew was that for whatever reason, she was the object of desire for the
very embodiment of pleasure torture.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

pleasuretorture:

As she ventured deeper into the haunted house, she noticed that it seemed to start brimming with plant-life, gorgeous flowers that seemed to breath a new lease of life into what had been such a dark, claustrophobic setting. It was only when she entered a large, garden-like open space that she realised that she had unknowingly been separated from her friends. Before she had time to call back
out to them, a group dressed as zombies sprang forth from the surrounding foliage and apprehended her. She had no time to react or even cry out for help as she was stripped naked and thrust onto a table at the centre of the thriving garden. The moment she was held down on it, she realised that the garden itself wasn’t simply a prop, it was pulsating with life; the greenery seemed to undulate as if breathing in and out. The movement above, with the rhythmic churning of branches and petals, almost hypnotised the naked girl for a moment, though the realisation that the hands were no longer what kept her held down brought her back to reality. She had not even noticed that the figures around her had disappeared, instead it was the vines themselves which closed in around her, making her feel trapped, while vines coiled around her body to keep her held in place.

Somehow she didn’t feel anxious or afraid, merely relaxed and, to her surprise, astonishingly aroused. While she had merely disclosed ‘other’ as what a deep fantasy would be on the waiver form that the haunted house had required her to fill out, she had never pictured this as what they’d have in store for her. It wouldn’t be until much later that the fact that she’d lost all sense of fear and trepidation the moment she entered the garden area became apparent, and that the plants filled the air with an extremely potent aphrodisiac to accommodate this. Simply, she was at the mercy of the living plant-life’s wicked intentions the moment she entered.

The plants met no resistance as they probed and teased her, relishing at the arousal that was so evident. Even the slightest touch which fluttered along her chest and between her inner thighs caused her to moan in joy, though the moment the petals crept across towards her own flower, her fate was sealed. The substance that caused the flowers to flourish was what started to trail from her the more aroused she grew. The aphrodisiac she was constantly breathing in caused for her to be extremely wet even before the manipulations of her body, yet the delicate touches caused her sweet nectar to gush forth rapidly. The vines themselves felt so soft, unlike any plant life she could imagine, though the flowers themselves are what devastated her body. The petals felt like the softest, most luxurious silk. Every time they brushed across her breasts and along her mound, it was as if a thousand of the softest bristles covered in the slickest of oils caressed every fibre of skin; pure electric pleasure coursed along every cell it touched. Once it wrapped around her stiffened nipples, she screamed out in pleasure. The feeling of that alone nearly sent her over the edge. Though with how good it felt, for a moment she dreaded how it was going to feel when it focused on her clitoris. It seemed to know this however, sensing how she slightly feared the level of sensation it was to wreak upon her, as it merely teased that little jewel. It crept and slithered those tormenting petals around her sex,
exposing that erect little button and circling all around it without touching it. It merely kept her on this knife edge of perfect pleasure even as she rocked her hips in unbearable need. 

Once she began begging, wondering whether it could understand her, it brushed occasionally along her clit directly, causing her to jolt as if zapped by a current. An electric shock of pure pleasure that made her feel as if she’d die if it dared suffocate her with such a sensation for any longer than the millisecond it gave her. On and on this torment continued as her sex dripped, letting the flowers slip along her entrance, daring to push inside and explore, but always just teasing and stopping. She still could not fathom whether it could understand her, as she kept screaming out and begging for more to no response or change. Little did she know that the flowers wanted to keep their most desired source dripping constantly from her, and the way to make that last, from years and years of experience, was to keep it’s prey from coming for as long as possible. Her tears and pleas for mercy would go unheeded as her clitoris pulsed and entrance convulsed in torturous need.

It would take hours before the girl would experience her first orgasm, once she stopped pulling against the vines and screaming for release, she’d be shocked by the petals suddenly cradling her tender clitoris, causing her to squeal in what felt to be an unending fit of ecstasy. The substance she breathed in, which kept her aroused beyond comprehension, would also prevent her from passing out, which kept her trapped in this agonising hell of an orgasm which would not yield. Her body writhed and strained in all manner of ways to escape the pleasure, yet nothing would protect her or cease the flower holding her clitoris hostage. As it sank around that stiff bud like a predator sinking it’s teeth into it’s meal, the tiny cilia within the flower would wreak havoc upon it. Each minuscule cilium brushed and vibrated against her as if each were designed to torture every little nerve ending within that sensitivity. Once her body finally came down, she would wonder how she were still alive, feeling as if she had been unable to breath since the moment she’d come.

“Not again.” she would sob once the flowers began to explore her depths, starting the whole process all over again.

It would only stop, however, once the flowers could not feed any longer on their desired substance. This poor, gorgeous figure of sexuality would be tortured this way for the whole night, while all the other friends searched fruitlessly, ready to face what lay ahead for them. Perhaps they’d have turned back if they could hear her screams.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: xxxtremecomixxx