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Torment

By: Syndie



Early in the evening, all alone again. The silence in the house should be soothing, instead I'm restless. The tick tocking of the alarm clock beside to my bed reminding me of how slow time moves. The shower relaxed me a bit, but I still feel as if I am lost; searching for some undefined meaning. I shake my head thinking to myself 'This is silly, you are a grown woman, just because you haven't spoken to Him in two days doesn't mean its the end of the world syndie', I sigh. My eyes fall onto His gift to me, I light it. Watching for a moment as the wick burns, the flame rising. Removing my robe, placing it on the hook on the back of the door; collapsing onto my bed in absolute boredom. The aroma of eucalyptus, powerful, filling the bedroom. The light from the candle casts an odd duel shadow on my wall, like two lovers despairing to be closer; I can relate. I miss Him .

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for what feels like an eternity. A chill encircles me , my nipples harden; His scent overpowers the candle. I can feel Him, His fingers tracing a thin line down my smooth skin. His breath warm on my face, His eyes burning into my soul. I shiver, this can not be imagined. He moves deftly across my skin, scarcely touching me, I attempt to open my eyes, realizing I am cloaked in darkness; 'the blindfold, but how?' I think to myself, a unpretentious smirk forms on my lips. The plush fabric of the blindfold feels so comforting over my tired eyes. I lift my arms above my head, stretching with feline elegance. His strong hands grip my delicate wrists, keeping me motionless as His lips press to mine. His tongue seeks its mate, entwining with such intensity, such reckless desire, it bewilders me.

Abruptly, he pulls away. The dresser draw slides open, listening as he rummages through my many intimacies. Softly giggling at the hushed melody he is devilishly humming. He is close again.

Leather encircles my wrists; the familiarity of the cuffs intensifying the reality. "Master, are you really here?", I ask delicately. The only reply is that of the summer night breeze outside the window, whispering through the trees. I listen, straining for a sign. Nothing. My arms tug at the cuffs, almost expecting them not to be there anymore, I'm confined. My mind reels, nervously shifting on the cool sheets beneath me.

His hands on me again, holding me at rest. His fingers lightly kneading into my silky thighs, parting them so gradually its not until they are spread as wide as they can be that I even notice. His fingers drift down my calves massaging my freshly-shaven skin. Bringing both feet in His hands, elevating my long legs. Tender lips kiss my painted toes, just for a moment, each one in sequence. He lowers them. At once I feel the cuffs around my ankles, my breath quickens as they are fastened.

Once again I speak, "Master...", a finger on my lips, so airily it chills me; I am silent, I nod once before He removes it. A single deep breath, reassuring my mind and body, smiling to myself with the knowledge that He is all I've ever needed.

Without warning the first drops descend onto my protruding nipples, my back arches high, biting my lip from the singe of the wax. The teal wax flows with precision; like lava from a volcano, sweeping down my breasts. Agonizing streaks of heat collecting in my cleavage. Weeping silently, my entire form milling against the sheets. The wax descending down my flesh, ultimately hitting my swollen clit. I shriek; the pain isn't as bad as one might imagine,it's strangely stimulating. My aching pussy tenses with each magnificent drop of the liquid fire until it halts.

Serenity. I can swear I hear the wax hardening. My skin encased, my nipples retained in their erect condition. My clit burning, entombed as well. The warmth of my juices dripping down towards my ass. Groaning, writhing on the bed, longing for His touch.

His footsteps are nothing more than a whisper, encircling the bed. His fingers sharply grasp my hair, guiding my head , pressing His glorious cockhead to my lips. I capture Him eagerly; as if His pulsating shaft holds the cure to my anguish. Tightly wrapping my hair around His wrist, demanding me to take all of Him. My lips locked taut , my throat muscles contracting around Him. My drenched pussy virtually screaming in envy as my ravenous mouth feasts. The throbbing in His veins quicken, feeling every beat of His heart on my lashing tongue as He glides upon it. Just when I think He will allow me His essence, His cock is ripped from my mouth; leaving me whimpering from the loss.

Agonizing moments pass, unbearable quiet. Blindly searching for Him, wishing I could see His face. He's there; rubbing His divine cock over my soaking slit. I can feel my wetness depositing on His head. He pushes within my folds, penetrating me just an inch; snickering as I sob in relief. What a vision I must be, dried wax layered upon my glistening skin, my limbs pulling carelessly against my restraints, my fiery cunt clutching His cock; desperately striving to lead Him in further. He withdraws.

My cries pierce the air; blaring, obscene... my yearning apparent. Every orifice of my body trembles. The blindfold flooded with tears of wanton need. Steadying myself, biting down on my lower lip. Knowing He is watching every move, understanding what He expects. Gradually obtaining the tiny fragment of poise that I can, I speak very softly "Please Master, please take what is Yours, allow me to cum for you". Tortuous silence.

The swiftness startles me; His solid cock submerges completely into my deprived pussy with such a force it elevates me from the bed. Viciously pounding, unmerciful, deeper with each thrust. My walls imprison Him, quivering. His fingers digging into my hips, dragging me fiercely onto Him as He drives back in. My head twisting from side to side, lost in His love. Ravished in the unwavering passion. His words, scarcely distinguishable "Cum little one, cum for your Master".

My indebted moan permeates the air, my hips gyrate whorishly. His fingers loosening, permitting me the movement. My pussy spasms, setting free the lust He has created. A brutal climax surpassing, any definition. A abrupt warmth fills my convulsing hole, wildly screaming as He bestows on me His release. His dripping body decorates mine; both of us panting. His strong fingers rake lovingly through my hair. His lips tenderly joined to mine, becoming as one. I'm lost in Him

My eyelids flutter, blinking to adapt to the light of the room. Wearily turning my head to the left, to the right; He's disappeared, gone. I bring my arms down in a panic, staring at my wrists; no marks, on either side. I sit up, gazing down at my ankles; they too are unfettered. Glancing down to my bare breasts, not a trace of wax to be found. Looking around the room, everything is how it should be with one exception; the candle has burnt down to nothing, still in the same place. My mind scampers, how can this be? He was here, I know He was.

The alarm clock jolts me from the confusion, I fumble for it, my eyes widen. Turning quickly towards the window, parting the blinds; the most beautiful sunset is visible on the horizon , It's 6 a.m. Bringing my hands to my face running them up through my hair as I sigh, it was all just a dream. I shake my head and laugh nervously, questioning my own sense of reality. I get out of bed, removing my robe from its place by the door, slipping it on. Veering to walk out of the room, I step on something peculiarly soft on the terrazzo floor. Kneeling down I'm overwhelmed. In my hands I gather it, holding it up, shaken.

I don't own a blindfold.

Torment



Torment

When she woke up, she was bruised all over and her wrists were still tied to the bed. The room was stuffy and smelled like sweat and sex. She was cold. The blankets had been pulled off the bed so she was completely uncovered and naked. She shifted, quietly and carefully, trying to get more comfortable and ease her shoulder muscles without waking up the man beside her. Having your arms tied over your head to two bedposts was not the most comfortable position at the best of times, and she'd been that way all night. 

He stayed sleeping despite her movements. Chaste realized that she was holding her breath and let it out in a long, low sigh. She shifted again, her shoulders making their complaints more loudly now that she was coming fully awake. Her arm itched. Chaste glanced at her left arm and noted that there was a thin line of blood trickling from the inside of her elbow. That was where Parker had put the needle last night.... It hadn't closed all the way and the blood was tickling her arm. She shifted again. 

The man beside her moved. Chaste tensed. She didn't even remember his name, and he certainly wouldn't remember hers. They had both been so... out of everything. She barely remembered what they had done, but her sore body was pretty telling that he was a particularly strong man and that he'd done a few 'creative' things to her. She didn't want to be tied up when he looked at her, when he saw her real face without the effects of the drugs hazing his mind. She started to struggle a little, trying to loosen the bonds so she could slip an arm free, and while she did that, she shook her head and let her hair fall over her face. Hopefully, he'd just untie her, or maybe just get up and go without looking at her. 

"Mmmmmm.... morning baby." He murmured in his sleep and rolled over to rest his head on her stomach, his hand playing lazily up and down her thigh. "You feeling good this morning." His fingers traced lightly around a bruise on her inner thigh that had purpled in the night. He pinched it lightly and she gasped. "You like how you got fucked last night?" He asked again, a teasing tone in his voice. 

Chaste held her breath as she continued to move her wrists around and around in slow circles trying to loosen the scarves. She looked down and watched as the scars from her face crept slowly down her shoulder to touch on her left breast. They were spreading as she got more panicky. She tried to breathe. Tried to calm down. She didn't answer him.... Didn't think he expected an answer actually. She was right. His hands just roamed over her legs and lower body, dipping in between her thighs and rubbing her sex lightly. 

She jumped a little when he slid a finger inside her. She was still so sore and the feeling was still so alien. He laughed, low and mocking. Chaste wished that Parker would come back. Or Angelique. Normally one of them would make an appearance about now and would get Chaste away from these men, take her back to the house where she belonged. "You like that huh?" He said. 

She was afraid that he was going to look up at her, but instead, he kept his head on her stomach while he stared at her lower body, his finger starting a slow, lazy circle inside her, pushing against the walls of her insides, sliding further and deeper on each circle. She was tired, sore and scared, but still she felt her body responding to him, felt herself growing wet and her tight cunt expanding for him. She moaned softly. 

In response, he shoved a second finger inside her to join the first. She wasn't ready for it and it hurt to have him invade her so quickly and brutally. She gasped, and once again, tried to jerk away from him. He laughed again and tightened his grip on her body, his head still resting on her stomach, looking down at her legs and her sex as he played with her. 

He began to move his fingers in quick circles, pulling in and out, his thumb lightly stroking her clit as his hand slipped in her sex. It felt good again. She couldn't stifle a moan as she shifted her body again, opening her legs a little wider to give him more access. 

"You've just got to have it, don't you bitch?" he asked her harshly, but his hand didn't slow. His thumb strummed along her clit again and her moaning turned to panting as she felt the pressure building up inside her. She looked down, the scars were even further down her body, fully covering her left breast and moving towards her stomach where his head lay. She'd never seen them move down that far and in some perverse way that was exciting to her. 

He shifted his arm again and this time was able to pump 3 fingers into her, deep and hard and she let out a stifled cry. He leaned further forward and replaced his thumb with his mouth and his tongue and sucked, deep and hard on her clit. It hurt, but stars were starting to build inside her head despite the pain, maybe because of it. He sucked again and swirled his fingers inside her. She struggled against the bonds on her wrists, desperate to...she didn't know, push him away, pull him closer. She had no idea. 

Images of her father swam unbidden into her brain. How he'd treated her mother, used her, how he'd wanted Chaste to be just like him. Powerful Lust. 

She felt herself reaching the edge of the cliff and throwing her body into the pit. She thrashed as she came violently, the man still pinning her down and sucking and licking her clit as spasms shook her. Her power lashed out almost unbidden, binding him to her, enslaving him to her. His own body vibrated at the contact and he finally released her cunt from his fingers and mouth and looked up at her. 

His eyes, drugged with lust widened in shock, and with unmistakable fear. She stared into them and concentrated. 

Love me

She commanded him in her mind. 

Love me 

She forced her power into him until he shook with longing for her. His mind having a hard time reconciling what his body wanted to do. She stared at him, her own eyes as wide as his. 

Love me

And lashed at him with all the force in her soul. 

He took her then, grabbing her thighs with their purpling bruises and forcing them very widely apart as his mouth came down on hers. She tasted herself on his tongue as he forced it down his throat, his one hand squeezing her right breast and pinching the nipple hard to life, the other grasping his cock and positioning himself to push inside her. She moaned again and shifted to accommodate him. 

She barely had time to take a breath before he slammed himself inside her, biting down on her lip as he did so, breaking it open and making her bleed. 

Love me

She forced her power into him, and he whimpered in pain as she drove his body on with it. He slammed into her sore and quivering cunt again and again, hammering at her sensitive and bruised skin. He was on his knees, pumping into her with all his force, his hands now gripping her waist as he went faster and faster. 

Her back and shoulders were roughly slamming into the headboard and there was nothing she could do to ease the pain. She smiled as she watched his face, slicked with the blood from her cut lip. She smiled to see how badly he needed her, how much he wanted her, and that he'd do anything for her as long as she let him do this to her. He'd seen her face and he still wanted her. 

He pumped her harder and harder, his face a mask of concentration and lust, he was under her sway. His right hand came up and took her breast again, squeezed it with all his strength until she couldn't stop herself from crying out in pain and tried to writhe out of his grip. He smiled this time, and her eyes narrowed. 

Love me

She forced it into him again, but he'd taken all that she had to give. He was using it now, this terrific lust that she'd made him feel. He was a bad man. 

"You love it this way, don't you bitch. You love it rough." And he slapped her. Chaste's head reeled when he hit her, her body still rocking back and forth as he fucked her. 

He slapped her again and again, the rhythm starting to match the force of his thrusts. There was nothing she could do, she was tied up, he was on top of her, inside her, she started to panic... but a new idea formed in the haze. She sent out a new feeling. He was a bad man. 

Feel 

She pushed at him. If he was a good man, she would have filled him with a bliss unlike anything he'd ever known, a complete and total sense of love and well being. But as she'd suspected, this was not a good man. 

As his already bloodied hand descended for another strike, she hit him with this power. Guilt and horror for every wrong act he'd ever committed in his life flooded into him. As it happened, his soul tore in two. He remembered every insult, every moment of suffering that he'd ever caused and he felt guilty for it. His spine bowed with the pain and with that last thrust, Chaste came again, powerfully, completely, her body shaken to the core with the force of it as the man on top of her shrieked in agony and threw himself off her onto the floor where he lay in a ball, shivering. He hadn't gotten to come. Chaste doubted that he ever would again. 

Chaste leaned back against her bonds and smiled. 

The door opened and Angelique came in. She took in the scene before her and walked carefully over to Chaste. She knew the girl, but was still affected by the fear that she radiated unconsciously. She carefully undid the binds on Chaste's arms and stepped back from the bed. Her eyes glanced at the naked man huddled on the floor, but didn't comment. 

"Parker said to tell you that was very good. You're well on your way to being a real woman Chaste." 

Chaste smiled, all of her features softening at once, allowing her to look once more like the child that she was. Parker was currently in charge of taking care of her, and he'd made it his project to turn her into someone real. 

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up. I'm sure you have things to do today." 

Still naked, Chaste bounded happily out of bed. She was bruised and cut and bloody still, but she could clean all that up, and Parker was happy with her. She did have things to do today. 



Torment



I sit here where you left me some half an hour ago, bound to the chair, naked, gagged and blindfolded. The bottom of the blindfold allows a chink of light to filter in, but not enough to see anything by - a mere irritation rather than relief. You have told me that no noise can penetrate this room, but I still strain my ears to catch the slightest sound of your return. Flexing my muscles, I find that you are as good as your word - I cannot release myself from your bonds. A statement that is more symbolic than some may think. My arms are tied behind me at the elbows, with my wrists spread and secured to the sides of the chair. A rope circles my waist and is pulled in tight to the back of the seat, while my knees are kept apart by a spreader bar attached to my ankles and then fastened to the chair legs. About my neck I wear a collar, placed there with love by you, my Mistress, my guardian, my saviour. The collar is black leather and appears plain to the untrained eye, but it is studded on the inside in a pattern that shows your name once removed. A pattern that has required me to adapt my working wardrobe to include high-neck tops. A pattern that is simply not de rigueur at the office! I find myself smiling inwardly at this thought - if only they knew. They always say you should watch the quiet ones.

Lost in my thoughts, I fail to hear your arrival. The first I realise of your presence is a sudden, but not unpleasant, sensation across my shoulders. You caress me with what feels like a feather, stroking it down my arm to my wrist before moving back up, across, and down the other arm. I stir my head slightly, trying to guess where you are, a move that results in you grabbing my hair and repositioning my head back to face front. I moan gently at the pressure on my scalp and move again just to feel you tighten your grip. You know I love these games as much as you do. I tremble as, with your hand still in my hair, you pull my head back oh so slowly and lick from collarbone to ear, stopping to nibble gently on my earlobe. Quivering, I whimper as you continue to clutch my hair while you move your free hand to place the feather on my thigh. The touch electrifies my senses and I silently will you to move it upwards to my cock, already hard at the thought. The feather advances languidly, so deliberately slowly it is almost imperceptible. You hear my breath quicken and see my muscles tense. I am trying so hard to control myself, to hold on until you say otherwise, as you have trained me. This is what you require of me and I strive to please you, it is my purpose, my destiny, but you do not make it easy for me sometimes. You know me so well, my responses, my mind. You know I'm close and still you continue, stroking the feather over my cock until I am breathless with desire. My body tightens as I reach the edge and start to tip over. The feather is suddenly removed and I go wild, straining against the ropes, furious with longing. The feeling subsiding, I hear your laughter as you replace the plume between my legs and start teasing me again.

"Do you like it my pet? Being tormented like this for my pleasure?" you whisper, close to my ear. I nod my head frantically, oh God I do.

"Oh I know how you do. You love being my toy, my plaything don't you my love?" Again I can only nod in reply. "But today we're going to see just how far you can go. I know how hard you find your submission sometimes, and now I want to hear you beg me to let you come. And believe me," you say firmly, "you will plead many times before I let you. How does that sound little one?"

I moan in response, coming close again. You continue your treatment a little longer now, before stopping just as suddenly as before. "Uh uh uh, not yet my dear." You mock. "Let's see if we can up the tempo a little shall we?"

This time the feather is replaced with a clip you attach to my balls, which sends me into near convulsions of need. You remove the gag so you can hear my screams as the pain hits. You so love to hear as well as watch the torment you inflict on me and stoop to add nipple clamps so you can fully appreciate my shrieks of anguish. Removing my blindfold, you stand back and look me in the face, eyebrows raised, waiting. I cry my need to you, begging you for release, tears of yearning and despair staining my cheeks.

"Please Goddess, please.," I howl, desperate for relief.

"Please what?" you respond, watching me squirm, prolonging the moment.

"Please let me come. Please" I sob, "I'll do anything Goddess, anything you wish."

A smirk plays across your lips at the thought.

"Anything, you wanton little bitch?" I look at the floor as I realise what I have said.

"Yes Goddess, anything." I murmur.

"We shall have to see about that later then, shan't we my horny little slut?" you say in a singsong voice. "What are you?"

Blushing with humiliation, I whisper my reply, "A slut Goddess."

"Whose slut?" You know you can push me, know deep down I long to say it.

"Yours Goddess."

You tap your foot in dissatisfaction. "Louder, I didn't quite catch that."

I raise my head to look you in the eyes and say with emphasis "I am your slut Goddess, your horny little slut, and I will do whatever you wish." You nod your approval, pleased that I have made it to this point faster than you had expected.

"Well, you wanton hussy, right now I wish for you to come."

And I do, with a passion I have never before encountered, falling back against the chair, exhausted, when I am spent. As my fever dies, you approach me and your arms encircle me from behind, caressing me until I am calm and relaxed.

"Now there is the small matter of the promise you made me."

I opened my eyes. You were standing in front of me, legs spread open about a foot, hands on hips, and with a smile across your face. My eyes were drawn though to the strap-on which stood erect in front of you. A black cock, my favourite yet also the one I feared the most. It was at least 10 inches long and three inches round at its base.

"Assume the position......if you pull away from me, or make a sound I will cane you........12 strokes for every breach of the rules. You shouldn't have made such a rash promise, should you?"

"No Goddess".

I knelt on the floor and took the hard black cock into my mouth. To my shame I gave the cock a wonderful blow-job...or what I assume was a wonderful blow-job, since it has been so long since I have experienced one and my Goddess hasn't forced me to give a real one."

You seized my hair on either side of my head and rammed the cock into my mouth until it touched the back of my throat. I remembered how terrible it used to be until I learnt not to gag.

"Now bend over and grab your ankles....lets see how a real slut can take a cock". With no further warning you rammed the cock into my ass. The lubrication I had given it with my mouth helped a little, but it took every ounce of self-control not to scream out loud with the intense pain.

The pounding continued for what seemed like an hour, but must have been a mere 20 minutes or so. Every muscle in my body ached as you pulled the cock out.

"Now finish the job". I knelt before you once again and began the stomach turning task of cleaning the cock, and as I did I vowed never again to make such a rash promise. Yet I knew I would, I knew that I would be here in this exact same position many more times. For as long as it continued to please you.....nothing else mattered.



Torment



There was a time for her when those lips poised above her own roused her, sent her mind spinning into thoughts of lost. She would feel them, full and moistened, slip around her own, grasping and locking. And releasing.

There was a delight there, singly and simply. His lips glib and fit to hers, yet with an intensity shocking and deliberate and inscrutable. They would feel hers, like blind groping. Taking in first one portion, then another. Gliding over the puckers of her mouth and glossing around the corners.

Not that they didn't yet bring an exhilaration, they did. A measure of delectation she would crave solely were it all to stop. As they nibble across her soft red ora, his lips bring electricity and intoxication. Now, though, they also bring trepidation and faltering uncertainty.

Once, early in their time together, he threw her onto the bed and pressed his lips to hers in a ravishment, a forced capture that gave her dizzying sensation. Releasing nearly as quickly as his advantage had been taken, he settled them just out of range. So near that she could feel them yet against her own and so far that, to touch them, she would have to exert a thrust difficult to gather with her hands pinned to the sides.

He whispered to her there. Told her of his plans for her that night. Asked her questions about her experiences. What turned her on, would she respond if he did this, would she like it if he did that. There, on the bed, with the feeling of his hardness against her and his soft lips above her, it all sounded delicious. She whispered back in a voice already laden with anticipation: "please."

And still he'd gone on. Walking her through hedonistic gardens while showing her blossoms she might pluck. Hallucinatory scents of heady contrivance. She considered herself versed. Lovers enough that she knew the arts - at least how the practice would be. Never had she heard it crooned to her with lips that would frequently pause to titillate. With a tongue that would stop to tease. She was empassioned. Entrapped. Enrapt.

Ever present was the symbolism of his hands enclosed over her wrists. Her arms pinioned to her sides. She could have bucked and struggled had she more the sentience and less the fervour, but so much more welcome was his next advance. His words drained her strength of will. Their coercion fervently desired and met with warm nimble lips once hers, now moving of their own accord.

He spoke visions to her. Vivid flowerings along the trail his lips would sprite. Between the stamen soft kisses and blithesome bloom prosody, she could only moan her approval and mouth breathless pleas: "please."

His mouth wound its way along that sparkling path of delights, just as he had told her it would, but oh so much slower. An agony she had never felt before came to her from the hour of flushed augury that ensued. And oh the pleasure at the end. The hardness she had felt against her with his every movement, finally plunging into her open arbors, pillaging a defenseless curtilage.

The memory of that first time sent shivers of moisture fromout her already swollen sex. The way he had inexorably wended his way to her center. Traveled the length of her, kneading and nibbling. Teasing and promising. Then, that first touch of his tongue to her inflamed petals was like white steel doused in ice. And another followed, and another. Her wrists now secure to her sides even as she arched and jolted. Each deliberate stroke of his falchion tongue to her slickened corolla threatening to overwhelm her.

Did she know then he would lay the foundation for her capitulation? Assuredly he did. Certainly he'd planned the conquest. It was a campaign. A strategic encountering that left her unable to consider anything but utter subjugation. Just as he had told her with those lips poised above her own. Drawn for the attack. Prepared for her disbelief. Ready to answer to her dubiety.

There was that time for her when his lips set for assault just as now, meant unabashed, unadulterated arousal. Tonight, above her own and so slightly opened, they meant excitement, undoubtedly. But much more. Oh so much more. They caused her heart to race with discomposure. Uncertainty. Turmoil.

Her hands were again immobilized, but now by the bindings oppressing her arms. Wrested there when he threw her onto the bed and clapped them into servitude. When he was in his rage like this, she knew she would tire well before it would burn itself out. He would exact her every shimmer of energy and leave her gasping and motionless for the remainder of night's fragrant lustre.

His lips touching down upon hers, pressing and impelling, elicit a moan in spite of her instability. When they release, they draw forth a sigh. When he tells her the path his mouth will travel, she knows it will be a long hard road for her. And oh the duality come to her senses! The first time intruding upon the present. His lips supple against hers and then removed to just out of reach as he tells of wonders to come.

Her nipples reach out for the pressure of his body and her skin stretches to feel anything he would touch her with. She knows the joy of his stick poking her thigh. It's a desperate lust that drips from her as his tongue traces her curves in a languorous meandering that whooshes her breath from her in a flutter of entreaty faltering at the next kiss.

The persistent poking at her ankles now and the nibbling reaching her arcing back, she knows that first instant when he touched her blossomed flower with his groping tongue. She could have left the moment then. The current stunned her, rushed her to the edge of her very being as he pushed up, through the silken folds and on to the conquest. The stiff pinnacle. She remembers screaming then, as now.

And as now, she feels the thrall. The thrashing of uncontrolled and irrepressible muscle. The two moments merge within her as she convulses. Her hands once held at her sides, with his fingers clasped over her wrists, now bound above her. Constrained beyond her capacity for struggle. Her legs once pressed to the cushion by his weight, now fettered in immodest posit.

Yet the juncture of time suspends her. She knows then that he will deny her relief and she sees now that he will force her beyond. His mouth furls her nub, subsumes her delicacy until he colligates the instants left in her thought and her body takes mind of its own and shudders with impending release.

Now, as then, he halts at the very climactic gasp. Then, she cried out, "NO!" Now, she sobs. A wracking shiver of familiarity. Cognizant, now, how he will do this with her until she has so little effort left to expend. Her arms will quiver in the restraints. Fibrillous and wearied. Her legs with scarcely nerve enough to wrap around him when he takes her.

Even as she reviews the twined pictures in her mind, his tongue seduces the swollen folds of her lily. Limns the soft outer shell as though it were frangible. Presses inside to the dainty treasure secreted. She sees as now, the time she realized he would do it to her again. When the recognition brought a disappointment and deadening of sensation. Aware now that he will only force his way through her disenchantment. That her chagrin will only feed the waves of bewilderment and sweep her higher than she has capacity to manage. 

And at the very peak, when her limbs quake and her back tautens. When the manacles chafe her flesh and a shard separates her from shattering, he'll stop again. And again. And again. Until her body is no longer her own, but His to command and control. A bounty. A spoil. A conquest.

If she could but help herself. Contain her need the way he trammels her limbs. But there is ever more. A relentless prod against her leg or, when she wavers upon the brink, refusing to relent. 

When she remains pushed too far, that incessant goad will storm her lips. Force the gasp back into her throat. His hand grasping her hair and containing her exertion until the cynosure eases from her tremoring to his glistening staff pistoning in and out of her mouth.

Her perdition. Those lips that then told her how she would be given that climax, that now tell her how she might have her zenith. Once conveyed the promise of movement to her core, press to the peak and deliverance. Even gave it, though so slowly that her agony was just glimpsed had she the wherewithal to look. Now those lips sentence her to this torture. To hold on, knowing what will come. The ebb and flow and peaks and troughs.

If she meets his standard. Her frustration so complete that her will dissipates with her nerve endings. The agitation so thorough that even her "please" lacks luster and no longer ports hope. 

The subservience consummate. Then, now, he will untie her limbs. He will guide her once more into his mouth and bring her forth to that verge. And take her. Ravage her with his aching hardness. Shove and poke and stab and pierce her flowering. Release the tide so she will ride the crest of that wave until the sea's end where she will lay gasping in his arms.



Torment, Telelapathy, and Tentacles



Disclaimer: This work of erotic fiction depicts consensual sex acts involving bondage, temporary mind alteration, alien probing and tentacle sex. If such things make you uncomfortable, I would advise you not to continue reading.

*

One morning, Lyssa was dozing peacefully when remembered that today was the day she and her boyfriend were going for a morning hike. She rolled out of bed and slipped into a tank top and a pair of shorts that showed off her toned legs. She may have been going for a hike but Lyssa still wanted to look good for Alan. She carefully brushed out her long, black hair until it was smooth. After a light breakfast, she headed out the door with a purse and a bag of fruit and nut trail mix. Lyssa met Alan at the base of their favorite trail. They walked for about an hour through the lush woodland until Alan stopped. "Follow me, there's something I want to show you," he said leading Lyssa off the path through some shrubbery.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" she asked as they moved deeper into the woods.

"Don't worry; it's just a little further," he assured. As promised, the couple soon reached a clearing full of wild blue berry bushes.

"Wow, it's beautiful!" Lyssa admired, "How did you find this place?"

"I was wandering around here last weekend when I was out bird watching."

Alan took off his t-shirt, mostly because it was warm outside but also because Lyssa often commented how sexy he looked without it. The sunlight highlighted his lean, muscular arms and toned abs. A handful of pine needles dotted his wavy black hair, the tousled locks giving him a look of rugged charm. Since the berries were in bloom this time of year, the young couple stopped to have a snack. Lyssa mixed the juicy berries into her trail mix and split it into two portions. Carefully lowering themselves onto a steep ledge, they snuggled against each other and watched the babbling stream below. Once they had their fill of fresh blueberries, Alan pressed his purple stained lips against Lyssa's.

"I have another surprise for you," he whispered as they broke the kiss. He pulled a white, cotton rope from his supply pack.

"What's that for?"

"Ropes are useful for lots of things. You can hang a hammock, go rock-climbing, or... tie up a pretty girl," he grinned, "I seem to recall a certain someone mentioning a very naughty bondage fantasy."

Lyssa blushed, "You remembered."

"Does that mean you want to do it?"

"Oh, god yes!"

"Does my little bondage toy have a safeword?"

She looked around, "How about blueberry? And, umm..." Lyssa hesitated.

"What is it?"

"Can I call you 'Master'?"

Alan chuckled, "You'd better."

His face took on a menacing grin as he stalked for forward. With a giggle, Lyssa scampered out of reach, occasionally turning her head to flash a flirty smile. Eventually, the athletic young woman slowed enough for her pursuer to grab hold. "There's no escape for you, my dear," Alan squeezed her arm painfully as he whispered, "You're mine."

"Yes, Master."

"That's better. Now then, you won't be needing those clothes." Alan forced her arms above her head and peeled off her tank top and bra. Then, he yanked off her shorts revealing a damp spot in her underwear. "Dirty girl; you're wet for me already, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master. I can't help myself," Lyssa purred.

Pinning her arms behind her back with one hand, Alan fingered her through her panties. He mopped up the juices all around her moist hole. The soft cotton slid against her clit making Lyssa squirm and whimper. Without warning, he yanked the panties down her pale, shapely legs and pushed her forward. She stumbled out of the pile of cloth at her feet.

"Now, kneel, Bitch!" Alan ordered, "and open your mouth for me."

She obeyed but just when she thought he would unzip his pants, Allan picked up Lyssa's underwear. Before she could ask why, he forced the white fabric into her mouth, gagging her on her own fluid soaked panties! Lyssa let out a muffled squeak.

"If you want me to stop, grunt three times. Do you understand?" asked Alan, realizing that she couldn't safeword while gagged.

Lyssa nodded.

Satisfied, Alan grabbed her by the hair and pulled, hard. "Do you like that? Do you enjoy it when I give you pain?"

She nodded more vigorously.

Alan shook his head, "Dirty girl." He threw her on the ground and pinned her. Though she squirmed against him, Allan held her trapped and helpless. "Struggling won't help you now, my love," he whispered, "I'm going to tie you up and fuck you until you scream." Grabbing his length of rope, he tied a coil around her wrists. He lifted her body just enough to loop the rope around her abdomen. Then, he pulled it taut, squeezing her almost to the point of pain and hog tied her ankles behind her. "Comfy?" Alan mocked.

Lyssa could only whimper.

He began to rummage around his pack again. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed this," he grinned, waving the purple vibrator in front of his bound plaything. Alan sauntered behind Lyssa and spread her knees apart. Slowly, he rubbed the head in tiny circles around her little clit. Just when she started to squirm, he rammed it up her hole and set it to vibrate just enough to torture her. Lyssa rocked back and forth trying desperately to rub herself harder against the clit stimulator but it was no use. She just couldn't work up enough pressure to make herself cum. Alan slapped her across the ass. "Hold still!" he commanded.

Lyssa obeyed as best she could, slowing her tortured struggles. This gave Alan the opportunity to fondle his prize. He reached beneath Lyssa to squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples. Alan then traced his finger nails over her body. He knew from experience where her most ticklish spots were. Helpless to resist, Lyssa could only writhe and choke back laughter as her boyfriend mercilessly tickled the soles of her feet, the backs of her knees, and the curves of her underarms.

"I thought I told you to stay still. You're a bad girl. You're a naughty, disobedient little bitch and you're going to get what you deserve."

Now that she was nicely warmed up, Alan began spanking her little round ass. He started with a couple light taps and slowly increased the intensity. Sharp, painful smacks echoed in her ears and forced whimpers from her throat. With each slap, the vibrator jumped inside her making her squirm even more.

"Yeah, I know you like that, my little toy," he purred, "You know, you look deliciously fuckable all tied up and helpless."

Alan unbound her arms so he could force her unto her back. Then, he released her legs just long enough to stretch one thigh as far to the side as Lyssa could comfortably bend it. He tied her ankle securely to a sapling and fastened the other ankle against a root equally far to the side. Removing the vibrator with a slow swirl Alan lightly tasted her now exposed hole. Lyssa mewed. However, he ignored her wordless plea to continue. Instead, he climbed up level with her longing eyes and ripped the gag from her jaws. He roughly pinned her arms to the dirt. "Do you want me to fuck you?" he growled.

"Oh god, yes," her breath caught in her throat, "yes, Master!"

He unzipped his pants and teased around the hole with the head of his cock. "Beg me."

"Oh please, Master. I'm so wet I can't stand it!" she started to buck against her captor, "I ache to feel your cock inside me. Please, please, please fuck me!"

"My, you are a desperate little one, aren't you?" he grinned, "I'm going to enjoy that wanton cunt of yours."

With that, he slammed his firm rod into her tight pussy. He took her roughly and deeply, drawing whimpers from her throat with every stroke. The relentless pounding soon drew her into violent orgasm. Waves of pleasure tingled up and down her entire body. With a cry halfway between a gasp and a scream, she thrashed against his grasp until she was spent. When Alan neared his own release, he pulled out to spray it over her body, marking Lyssa's breasts with his seed.

Exhausted, the pair collapsed in one another's arms. Alan carefully untied Lyssa's ankles and they both drifted off to sleep under the shady tree. Waking up a half hour later, Lyssa lazily pulled her clothes back on, careful to wipe the dried cum from her chest. She nibbled a few blueberries while Alan slept. Within a few minutes, Alan woke up as well. "Good morning, sweetheart," he yawned.

"Morning? It's 1:00 in the afternoon."

He eyed his watch, "So it is."

When Alan looked up at Lyssa, she jumped with a start.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Your...your eyes!" The whites of Alan's deep green eyes had taken on an eerie glimmer. "They're glowing!"

"Why wouldn't my eyes glow when I'm looking at such a beautiful creature as yourself." As Alan stepped forward to stroke her hair, his appearance returned to normal.

"I guess it was just the lighting," Lyssa pondered, "Anyway, we'd better start heading home. It's supposed to rain later."

They gathered up their things and hiked back to the trail. "My god," Lyssa sighed, remembering their encounter, "that was even better than I fantasized."

"I got into it too. I was afraid I went too far."

"No way, I loved every minute!"

Alan smirked, "In that case, I should tie you up more often."

A flush of desire spread across her cheeks, "If you're not careful you're going to turn me into a nymphomaniac."

"Ooh, I like that idea," his grin became more devious, "Maybe next time I should hypnotize you."

"Does that stuff really work?"

"It works if you let it. I could make you my little sex slave."

"You could try," she dared playfully.

After a leisurely walk home, they managed to arrive back in town just as the storm clouds were gathering. "So are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?" Lyssa asked.

"You bet." Alan kissed her softly before they parted ways.

The next day, the couple had a lovely dinner at their favorite sushi place. Afterwards, Alan walked Lyssa to her door. "Do you want to come in?" Lyssa asked, "It's still early."

They rested on her plush couch. Tenderly stroking her hair, Alan rubbed Lyssa's back.

"Mmm, that feels good," she purred.

"You know, I could make you feel good in other ways too," hinted Alan.

"Oh really? How are you going to do that?"

Alan grinned, "Well, for starters I could do this..." She pulled him forward into a deep kiss. Wrapping his arms around her, Alan probed her mouth with his long tongue. He gave a gentle stroke to her breast and then kneaded the soft globe more firmly. Lyssa pushed herself toward him for a moment but abruptly pulled away soon after. Alan's face seemed darker. This definitely wasn't the lighting; his normally pale skin had taken on a distinct bluish tinge.

"Is something wrong?"

"You're hypoxic!" she gasped, "You need a doctor!" Lyssa scrambled to her telephone but Alan stilled her hand. He was back to his normal color.

"Relax, I'm okay. But there's something you should know about me. I'm not really from California," he lowered his eyes nervously; "I'm an alien."

She rolled her eyes, "You have a weird sense of humor. But really, this isn't the time."

Alan tilted her chin upward aiming her gaze at his eyes --eyes which now glowed with unnatural white light. He grinned, "I'm not joking."

Lyssa jolted backwards and tripped over her own feet, landing with a thud. She gazed up at him, eyes filled with shock. "A..allan...?" she stammered.

He returned his eyes to their normal appearance, "Relax, Sweetie, it's me. I would never hurt you." Reaching out his hand, Allan helped Lyssa back to her feet.

"I'm okay. It's just a lot to take in. I mean, wow, my boyfriend is a real live extraterrestrial. There are so many things I want to ask you. Where do you come from? Why are you here?"

Leading Lyssa to a north-facing window, he replied, "You see that star at the end of the Big Dipper? That's my home star. I came to Earth to study intelligent life."

"Study us? Like lab rats? Has our relationship been nothing but a psychology experiment to you?"

"No, of course not! When I came here I never knew I could fall in love with a human. I was just supposed to keep my distance and learn about your culture. But that day in the park when we first met, everything started moving so fast... My feelings for you are sincere and always have been. I promise."

"I-I believe you. But this is so unreal. I've always thought that aliens would be --I don't know- inhuman. To think that an alien can love..."

"My species evolved love the same as yours. Most social creatures with sufficient intelligence can feel affection and those who also mate for life naturally develop romantic emotions. Of course, our cultural mating rituals are very different."

"What are your species' mating rituals?" Lyssa wondered

"Well, remember when I mentioned erotic hypnosis yesterday?"

"Are you telling me you have some sort of mind control power, too?" she quipped.

"In a way, we do. One of our mating instincts is to form a temporary mind link. It's not exactly mind control but it will let me influence your underlying emotions," he explained.

"Will it hurt?"

"On the contrary; I can make it very pleasurable for you," Alan brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.

"Okay, I'll try it," Lyssa blushed nervously.

The extraterrestrial allowed the glow to return to his eyes, "Look deeply into my eyes and relax," he soothed, "Allow me into your mind."

The light became ever more beautiful the longer she gazed into his eyes. Waves of calm rippled over Lyssa's psyche. However, she started to wonder if this was a good idea. She turned away, squeezing her eyes shut. A jolt shot through her mind like a snapped rubber band. "What was that?" Lyssa yelped.

"You broke the link," he answered, rubbing his head, "Why did you do that?"

"I had second thoughts. How do I know you won't mess with my head?" she worried, "In fact, as far as I know, you might have been brainwashing me since the day we met!"

"How can you even think that?" Alan ranted with a hurt look on his face, "Have I ever done anything to make you think that I would manipulate you?"

"No," Lyssa admitted, "You've always been understanding and trustworthy. It's just... this whole thing really threw me for a loop. I mean, it's not exactly easy to hear that your boyfriend is an alien with mind control powers."

"It's really not mind control," he insisted, "I can only do it if you accept me into your mind and, even then, the link will break if you consciously choose to resist. Still, I understand if you don't want to do it, especially since you just found out what I am."

Lyssa paused, "So you can't make me a sex slave?"

"Are you sure you don't WANT to be my sex slave?" Alan laughed, "But seriously, no. I can't do anything to you against your will and I would never try." 

She hesitated again, "Okay, I'll mind link with you."

"You're sure you really want to?" Alan asked, "I wouldn't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. And it's painful for both of us if you break the link."

"I'm sure. I really want to try it."

Once again, the white glow overtook Alan's emerald eyes. The twin beacons seemed to draw Lyssa inward. As she gazed into the welcoming light, Alan entered her mind. An overwhelming sense of warmth and closeness flowed through her even stronger than when he held her in his arms.

"I have you, my love. Don't be frightened." Alan didn't speak aloud. Rather, Lyssa felt the words whispered within her mind.

Then, he lovingly swept her into his arms and rested Lyssa on her bed. She curled up against his strong body. All fear and reluctance ebbed from her mind. With no inhibitions, she felt pure desire flood her mind (and pussy). She became an animal; free and untamed. Alan reached into her brain and drew forth every lustful thought and lurid fantasy she had ever imagined. In her mind's eye, Lyssa saw herself tied up and fucked into oblivion. She saw herself gang-banged by vampires. She saw herself licked, caressed, spanked, and penetrated in every hole of her body. And she didn't feel an ounce of shame.

"Take me!" Lyssa screamed, "Tear off my dress! Call me a slut! Throw me down and pound me senseless with your cock!" Though barely aware of what she was saying, Lyssa meant every word. And Alan could sense it. He grinned with mischief as the glow in his eyes shifted to cerulean blue. An aura of the same color surrounded Lyssa and her body levitated off the bed. By reflex, she tried to reach downward toward the sheets but found herself immobile. However, the woman sensed that she was safe; that Alan would stop if she wanted him to. But, at this point, stopping was the last thing she wanted.

A rippling psychic pulse slammed her flat against the wall. Slowly, the zipper on her dress slid down her back. Alan made a smooth grasping motion in the air and the dress wrenched itself from her body. With a second gesture, Alan psychically shredded her bra and panties, which fluttered to the ground in tiny, white scraps. Alan strutted over with a hungry gleam in his eye.

"You're so beautiful," he purred caressing the curve of her waist. Then, her lover ran his tongue over Lyssa's firm, pink nipple. She whimpered.

"Oh, you like that do you?" Alan smirked.

"That feels so good," she mewed.

Alan sucked on the hardened bud, flicking it with his tongue. Meanwhile, his hand rubbed and kneaded her other breast. His other hand stroked the brown fuzz between her thighs and poked a finger through her lips. "That's it. My slut is getting nice and wet," he whispered.

Moaning softly, Lyssa squirmed within the invisible bonds that pinned her to the wall. Alan continued to finger her, smearing the nectar over her pink blossom. He stroked tiny circles over her clit. Lyssa continued to writhe against the immobilizing aura as she inched ever closer to orgasm. But before she reached that ultimate release, Alan pulled away. Her disappointment turned to shock as her body abruptly crumpled to the floor unsupported. The blue glow around her had momentarily disappeared but, before she could regain her balance, it gripped her once more. Lyssa froze to the spot. With his psychic power, Alan took total control over Lyssa's body. He made her crawl to him on her hands and knees and kneel at his feet. Then, her arms moved to peel the silky black pants off her lover. Alan made her repeat the gesture to remove his underwear and reveal his magnificent cock.

She wasn't sure whether it was Alan's power or her own desire that controlled her next move. Slowly, Lyssa's lips encircled the massive rod. Her tongue explored around the head and she gave a tentative suck. Tired of this slow teasing, Alan relaxed the muscles of her throat and plunged his entire length into her wet mouth. Lyssa was amazed that she didn't (couldn't!) gag as she took Alan's forceful throat fucking. Then, without warning, he pulled upward and released his warm jets of seed into her mouth. In the fog of her lust, she couldn't think of anything more delicious. She gulped down every last drop.

Still under Alan's control, Lyssa felt her weary body crawl onto the bed, her legs splayed out at either side. Alan climbed over her with a wicked gleam in his eye and dipped his tongue into her wetness. "Your scent is intoxicating," he purred.

He continued to lap at her pink flower sending lustful shudders up her spine. Then, he teased just around the edge of her yearning, neglected clit. Lyssa squirmed. "Oh god, please!" she begged, "Please...take me over! I need it soooo badly!"

"What do you need? I want you to say it," he coaxed between tantalizing slurps.

"I need you to lick me harder! I need you to suck on my clit until I explode! I need to cum!" screamed Lyssa.

Alan smirked, "Be careful what you wish for."




Torment, Telelapathy, and Tentacles



The alien trapped her pink bud between his soft lips and gave a long slurp. Lyssa's pussy clenched violently, electrifying her body with lightning bolts of pleasure. Though her body tried to squirm away from the unbearably intense sensations, Alan's psychic hold kept her well within reach of his agile tongue. All she could do was tremble and squeal. Mercilessly, Alan lapped at her clit and rolled it around in tiny circles. His unrelenting attentions forced her through dizzying orgasms again and again. 

"Oh...oh god! More!" her half-coherent screams filled the room, "What are you doing to me!? Oh, ooooh, I can't take it! Soooo good. Don't stop!"

He kept her cumming until she collapsed, breathless with exhaustion. Her body still trembling with aftershocks from the overwhelming pleasure, Lyssa curled up around her lover. "Wow," she gasped, "That was wonderful. How...how did you make me cum like that?"

Alan laughed, "Your body has an amazing capacity for pleasure. All I did was unlock it." Lyssa shuddered again and pulled herself closer. Soon, they had both drifted off to sleep in one another's arms.

The next morning, Lyssa awoke first. She rolled over and, through the dim morning light, watched her lover breathing. Could he really be an alien? Had it all been a dream? That he looked so normal only served to amplify Lyssa's feelings of surreal confusion. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice when Alan's eyes fluttered open. "Good morning sweetheart," he noticed the distant look in her eyes, "Is something wrong?"

"I feel kind of weird... about last night," she admitted, "I just can't believe it really happened, that you're really an alien. I keep thinking I'm dreaming."

Alan squeezed her toward his body, "I understand, Sweetheart."

A minute later, Lyssa sat up in bed, "Alan?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you really look like?" she wondered.

"What makes you think I don't look like this?" goaded Alan.

"Well, it would be pretty strange if an alien species looked exactly like humans. And there is the fact that you turned blue right in front of me last night."

He laughed, "I can't get anything by you. Okay, I'll show you." Alan's naked skin faded to blue as it had the night before. His neck and limbs elongated while the blue darkened to near black. Smoothing to fine tapered points, his arms and legs morphed into tentacles. The tentacles split along their lengths until there were twelve of them. As his ethereal transformation completed, Alan's eyes enlarged to glowing white ellipses while his nose, mouth, ears and hair flattened to his head.

Alan climbed out of bed so Lyssa could get a better look. His movements flowed gracefully as he supported himself on his lowest four tentacles. Lyssa stared mesmerized by the elegant curling and waving motions of Alan's raised tendrils. "Wow. Can you still talk?" she asked, noticing his lack of a mouth.

"Not vocally," he answered with telepathy.

Unexpectedly 'hearing' the words inside her mind, Lyssa flinched and fell backwards. She landed with a thud by the side of the bed.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay?" he asked, once again speaking telepathically.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You just startled me a little."

Alan's translucent tendrils drooped subtly. It occurred to Lyssa that she was so focused on her own reactions that she hadn't considered Alan's feelings. It must have been hard for him to reveal his true form. And her nervous hesitance, though justified, probably made him insecure.

"You're beautiful," Lyssa assured. She meant it too. Though clearly alien, his slender, elegant form enchanted her. Alan's tentacles flowed gracefully behind him like ethereal wings. Lyssa stepped forward and tentatively grasped one. It was velvety, supple and just the slightest bit warm. As she stroked it more firmly, the flexible limb coiled around her hand. Alan shuddered, making an almost mechanical purr. Had she hurt him?

"You should know that my tendrils are erogenous organs." Though he had no human mouth, Alan's thought-speech conveyed a sense that he was smiling.

"Oh!" Lyssa blushed heavily and then grinned. Licking her lips, she brought the pointed arm to her mouth. Lyssa sucked and the alien phallus intertwined with her tongue while the rest of Alan's tentacles snaked around her body. As the space creature became more aroused, his tendrils coated in a slippery fluid. This let the squirming limbs slide deliciously against Lyssa's skin. The sweet tasting lubricant dripped down her throat. When she swallowed, her pussy instantly came alive and pure lust strangled her mind. It felt wonderful. She sucked with absolute abandon, relishing every drop of the syrupy, mind ripping aphrodisiac.

Meanwhile, eight tentacles enfolded Lyssa's body. They ravished, squeezed, and massaged every inch of her skin. One slithered over her breasts; another slipped around her neck; and two more forced her arms against her side. She was totally, blissfully smothered by dripping feelers. Harder and harder, Alan crushed her in a fleshy vice grip until she could barely squirm. Lyssa whimpered around the tentacle in her mouth.

"That's it my helpless little toy. You feel so good struggling against me," he purred into her mind.

Through their mental link, Alan probed her thoughts but all he could sense were ravings of "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

"Whatever you say, my precious Earth-whore." He lifted her writhing body above his head. A tendril coiled around each leg forcing them apart so that a third could squirm up her pussy. It slithered deliciously against her clit as it probed deep inside her. The tentacle wriggled and twitched against her walls like an impossibly long tongue. If that wasn't enough, the aphrodisiac mixing into her fluids intensified every sensation. Lyssa squealed through the tentacle that still dripped down her throat.

"Cum for me, Slave!" Alan commanded, forcing waves of desire deeper into her mind. At the same time, he roughly pistoned her with the wet, serpentine phallis.

There was no hope for resistance. Searing orgasm grabbed her by the throat and forced the air from her lungs. She thrashed uncontrollably as pleasure tore through every muscle in her body. Yet Alan's slithering tentacles gripped her immobile and muffled her ecstatic, tortured screams. Her motions only served to accentuate the twisting, sliding sensations of tentacle against her wet clit. Whenever the crushing ecstasy began to ebb, Alan would stroke her g-spot sending her deeper into mind-rending climax over and over again. She simply couldn't stop cumming! With whatever shred of rationality remained in her mind, Lyssa wondered how long he could keep her like this. Surely she would pass out soon?

"I'm not letting you off that easily, little Slut. I won't let you pass out and do you know why?" he taunted through her pleasure addled mind.

She mewed a pained whimper.

"Because I can read your mind. I know what a whore you are and how you love it when I force you," he punctuated his words with stroke to her poor over stimulated clit. The helpless tentacle-slut kept cumming until her orgasms blurred together into a fog of unending rapture. For over two hours, Alan held her at the pinnacle frenzied euphoria. Finally, Lyssa couldn't take it any more.

"Please... mercy" she gasped against the tentacle in her throat.

Alan finally relented. The tendrils in her mouth and cunt withdrew while the vice-grip on her body softened. Shifting his hold, Alan rocked her trembling body in a cradling motion. "It's okay, my precious. It's over," he caressed her mind with waves of calm.

Still twitching, Lyssa curled into a fetal position and clutched one of the soft tentacles. Alan gently lowered her onto the bed. "Sleep now, my love," he whispered through telepathy. Overcome by drowsiness, Lyssa drifted into slumber, still clinging to her alien lover.

She awoke to Alan, back in his human form, gently stroking her hair. Lyssa rolled over to see the clock: 2:03 pm. "My god, I slept for three hours! What did you do to me?" she yawned.

"Oh come on. You know you loved it," he teased.

"It's true," she admitted, hugging Alan closer. As she looked down at her arm, Lyssa realized that her naked body was no longer coated in that delicious alien lubricant. "Did you wash me while I was sleeping?" she asked.

"No, my xenoplasm absorbed itself into your skin," he explained.

"Xenoplasm? Is that safe?"

"Of course it's safe. You know I would never harm you, my precious," he assured, "Xenoplasm is an aphrodisiac lubricant my race produces when during sex. Our skin automatically attunes the chemical components to our lover's body. That's why it felt and tasted so good to you even though you're a different species. Once you're worn out, the lubricant converts into a harmless skin moisturizer."

"Well, whatever you did, it was amazing!"

"Oh, that was nothing," Alan grinned, "I had to dilute the aphrodisiac to preserve your sanity. I only used 3% of the maximum concentration."

"To preserve my sanity? You've got to be kidding me," Lyssa raised an eyebrow.

"I'm serious. The unmodified human brain can only handle so much pleasure. Any more and you wouldn't be able to stop."

"So you're saying I would become addicted," she realized.

"Yes," he noticed the spark of fear in her eyes, "Don't worry it's easy to control the amount of aphrodisiac I secrete. Besides, we have medical technology that can painlessly reverse addictions."

"But how do you even know how much aphrodisiac to use? How can an alien know so much about the human mind and body?"

"I've been on this planet for three years studying human behavior and reading about your biology."

"You've only been here for three years? It takes a baby that long just to learn coherent speech!"

"I have a form of telepathy that lets me understand language and strongly held social norms. Though, it's not as powerful as a complete mind-link so it took longer to understand the more subtle nuances of your culture."

Lyssa laughed, "That explains why you were so awkward when we first met."

"Was it that obvious?" he pouted.

"You told me I had lovely 'pigmented keratin strands'."

"Yeah, well," he grinned sheepishly, "As I recall, you found my quirkiness charming."

"I still do," Lyssa smiled. She gave a light, playful kiss to Alan's lips. "Sweetheart?" Lyssa wondered.

"Yeah?"

"What's your real name?" she asked.

"My real name?"

"Come on, you don't really expect me to believe you're called 'Alan the alien'," she snickered.

"Well, no. My species communicates through telepathic ideas and images rather than words. Really my 'name' is _____," a mental image of Alan's alien form flitted across Lyssa's consciousness, "but you can just call me Alan."

"Aw," she mock pouted, "I was hoping for something exotic like Spock or Aximili."

"Sorry to disappoint you," he gave the telepathic impression of laughter.

"So I guess that means your species doesn't have a verbal name either," she supposed.

"No. We haven't decided yet what to call ourselves when we reveal our species to humanity."

"You think 'tentacled sex gods from beyond the stars' would give the wrong impression?" she joked.

"Nah, it's a bit too lengthy." They both laughed.

Alan paused a moment. "Lyssa?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

He grinned, "Would you like to see my ship?"

Lyssa's eyes went wide, "Ooh that would be awesome!"

Alan led her into the bedroom and rummaged around his pile of discarded clothing. He removed a metallic device from a shirt pocket. "I'm going to have to cloak us first." With a squeeze of the tiny machine, he faded to invisibility and Lyssa followed soon after. "Follow me," Alan took her hand in his transparent tentacle and led her out the front door. "Don't be afraid," he warned.

"Why would I be af-," Lyssa stopped short when she felt her feet drift above the ground. She had to kick her invisible heels against each other to make sure her lower half remained solid. The interspecies couple shot upward faster and faster. Entranced, Lyssa stared as her house and neighborhood dropped away. The surroundings went from blue to black as the air thinned. Yet, Alan's machine kept Lyssa from suffocating. Suddenly, the pair shot through a horizontal doorway that appeared out of nowhere. Alan uncloaked himself and Lyssa as the door slid shut.

"Are you alright, Sweetheart?" Alan asked floating by her side as they hovered in zero gravity.

"Yeah," she panted, "but that was one major head rush!"

"You'll get used to it. Come near the floor so I can turn on the gravity."

"Are you sure this is the floor?" she moaned as she followed him.

Alan sent a telepathic command to the ship's computer and they flopped on the silver, metallic floor. As Alan helped her to her feet, Lyssa took the chance to admire her surroundings. The room was an oddly beautiful blend of organic and mechanical components. Computers with blinking lights intermingled with lush, enormous leaves. From the shining chrome walls, grew waxy, purple strands which resembled a blend between vines and wire cables.

"Wow, this place is amazing!" Lyssa gasped. As she looked around, Lyssa realized she was still naked. She hastily covered herself behind a broad leaf and yelped, "Is anyone else here?"

"No, this is my private starship," he assured.

With a relieved sigh, Lyssa emerged from the blue tinged foliage.

"Come on, I'll show you around," Alan offered. He led his girlfriend down a metal corridor lined with bluish mechanical doors. As they stepped up to one, the doorframe glowed cyan and the entryway slid open. "This is my lounge area," he explained.

Lyssa examined the most prominent machine in the room, a man-sized transparent seed-pod with various dials and circuitry attached to the base. "What's this?" she wondered.

"Oh, that's just my sleep pod," he turned a dial and the 'leaves' unfurled into an entrance.

"And this?" Lyssa pointed toward a sleek white block in center of the room. "Is it where you bind up helpless Earth girls and perform your invasive experiments?" Lyssa grinned.

"No, that's my kitchen table."

"Awww," she pouted.

"On the other hand," Alan added, "I wouldn't want to disappoint my guest." He grabbed her arm in one of his tentacles but she managed to wriggle free.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Lyssa giggled as she scurried off.

"Silly Earth girl," Alan mocked as he chased after her, "Where do you think you can run?" It wasn't long before he cornered her in the engine room, ensnaring her with eight powerful tentacles. He dragged the struggling human all the way back to the lounge. All her kicking and flailing only served to stimulate Alan's tendrils and his aphrodisiac lubricant began to dampen her skin. A small moan escaped her lips. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy probing you," he growled telepathically. Alan roughly threw her on the table forcing a pained yelp from the captive.

"Computer," Alan projected his telepathic command with ominous glee, "Restrain the specimen."

Five mechanical limbs unfurled from the ceiling, each bearing a circular clamp. They snapped the four smaller clamps around her wrists and ankles. As the arms forced them to the table's corners, the bonds fused with the cold white material. The largest clamp circled her midsection similarly so that Lyssa was almost entirely immobilized.

Alan slithered over her and stared into her eyes. Lyssa's desire spiked as she felt the mind link connect with her brain. "Do your worst, alien scum!" she dared.

"I will," he answered, the cruelty evident in his eyes despite their inhuman appearance. "Computer, bring me the EM modulator."

One of the robotic arms reappeared handing its master a black, rod-shaped implement. "I'll bet you're wondering what this does," Alan mused as he dragged the cold, metal prongs over her bare stomach. "It's used to manipulate electrical currents...like that ones that control your nervous system." With a squeeze to the handle, he sent a jolt directly into her spinal cord, firing every pleasure carrying neuron she had. Orgasm exploded into her brain. Lyssa screamed and thrashed uncontrollably against the icy steel bonds. Just when she expected the sensations to ebb, Alan turned a dial to make the relentless tingling in her pussy, asshole and clit even more intense. He held her for several minutes at the pinnacle of ecstasy. When he finally withdrew the machine, Lyssa collapsed into a breathless, cum soaked heap.

"So you enjoyed that did you?" he mused, probing her mind, "If you're a good little Earthling fuck-toy, I might do it again. But first, I'm going to try another setting." Again, Alan touched the twin prongs to her naked skin. This time a spark of pain raced up her spine. Lyssa, whimpered.

"Hmm, I seem to need a better angle." He rudely thrust the metal rod up her wet pink hole. "That should work."

When he turned it on again, the machine jolted Lyssa with a pain halfway between a spanking and a lightning bolt. Alan probed her mind to sense the precise amount of pain that would send her into fits of masochistic ecstasy. Meanwhile, he rubbed the stiff handle in little circles around her clit. Lyssa shrieked her lungs raw.

"Scream all you want, Whore, there's no one to save you," he withdrew the device to find it coated with her fluids, "Then again, I'm not sure you even want to escape." Alan purred out loud as he dragged an aphrodisiac laden tendril across her naked breast.

"Oh, god! Please...more," she whimpered.

"Yes, that's a good slut." He slid a tentacle down past her willing lips and forced her to drink down his intoxicant. She felt her soul fill with uncontrollable, wanton, beautiful desire. Every muscle in her body clenched and writhed. She gagged trying to force muffled speech past her throat.

Withdrawing the tentacle, Alan mocked, "What was that, Sweetie? You know you shouldn't talk with your mouth full."

"More," she moaned, "I want to feel your full power!"

"Are you sure?" he asked sincerely, "I told you what would happen."

"You can reverse it if I go insane right?"

"If? You underestimate me," he taunted, "Anyway, yes, it's all completely reversible."

"Then do your worst. I'm yours to enslave."

Alan pounced on the table like a panther and rammed a slick tendril into each of her holes. "In that case, I'm going break your perverted little mind like a dry twig."

He pumped the super concentrated hormone into her body. Lyssa blacked out instantly. However, the telepathic alien reached into her psyche and forced her fragile mind to the surface. A pleasure beyond understanding tore through her. It was too impossibly powerful to be called an orgasm, more an explosion of volcanic raw intensity screaming through her blood. It hurt so beautifully!

Just then, Alan coiled his tendrils over her body. Smoothing himself into a near liquid state, the alien hugged her in a skin-tight cocoon. He slowly squeezed into every curve and crease of her skin; between her toes, in her bellybutton, inside her ears. The tentacle in Lyssa's cunt molded around her folds and under the little hood of her clit. Everywhere the alien touched, his sex drug seeped into her skin. With each passing moment she reached new zeniths of lust and longing.

Alan extended microscopic tendrils through every pore of her body. There, he could taste her blood and feel every twitch of every muscle fiber in his ecstatically writhing victim. As he injected the chemical straight into her blood stream, Lyssa tingled from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She could feel her nervous system rewire itself for sexual ecstasy. New pleasure receptors innervated every inch of her skin and made her entire body feel like her clit. But it wouldn't stop. Her flesh became more and more sensitive until the very air passing through her lungs made her cum.




Torment, Telelapathy, and Tentacles



Meanwhile, Alan threaded microscopic fibrils through the blood vessels in her brain and directly stimulated her pleasure centers. He was, literally, fucking her mind. Then, he began squeezing up and down her body. Firm, pressured waves rippled inward from her scalp, fingertips and toes and they converged on her impossibly sensitive clit. Lyssa convulsed wildly. If Alan hadn't been there, forcing her in place, she would've seriously injured herself. Her muscles spasmed against each other, every fiber radiating orgasmic bliss.

As her body transformed into a conduit of total pleasure, Lyssa's mind struggled to cope. One thought held fast in her consciousness: she wanted more! However, Alan chose that precise moment to detach himself. He reformed his normal shape and slowly withdrew his tentacles from Lyssa's holes. With one last stroke to her clit, he slid off of the table. He removed the clamps to let her move freely.

"Get up, Whore," he commanded.

Delirious with craving, all she could do was obey.

"Good girl," he slid across the room, "Now, get on your knees and crawl to me."

The floor against her hands and knees made her sensitized body tremble with orgasm but it was nothing compared to the alien's touch. Gazing at her lover with wild, longing eyes, Lyssa crept toward him.

"That's a good slave," he lifted her chin with a soft tendril, "You know, you're beautiful when you're desperate."

When Alan pressed the feeler to her lips, she slurped it down and drank his fluid as if it were the essence of life itself. It felt so good sliding down her throat. She had to have more! Taking pity on his earthling fuck toy, Alan jammed a second tentacle up her soaked, twitching love hole. The thick, rippling appendage slithered against her walls and massaged her g-spot. Once again, hyper-intense orgasms forced untold pleasure through the torn fragments of her mind. Lyssa endured wave after wave of magnificent, agonizing ravishment. Her muffled screams vibrated the tendril down her throat. For what seemed eons, Alan shredded her soul with unendurable bliss. Then, finally, he dragged the tentacles from her holes.

Alan embraced her gently in his many limbs. Yet Lyssa, still mindless with desire, continued to hump his slick body with frantic abandon. Alan held her steady and locked eyes. "Please," he reached deep through the mind link, "hold still. I... want my Lyssa back."

Understanding dawned in her wild eyes, "Okay," she answered in a hoarse, unsteady whisper.

Alan carried her to his flowery sleep pod while she struggled to restrain her lust. Even then, her body trembled with orgasm everywhere Alan touched.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," he set her inside the pod, "This will bring you back to normal." The transparent leaves enfolded Lyssa when her lover turned a dial. For a moment, her sensitized skin tingled at the contact but soon her lustful frenzy ebbed. She could think clearly again. She could touch her skin without spasming in ecstasy.

All at once, a flood of weakness overcame her. She almost collapsed when the pod unfolded. "Whoa," she steadied herself, "I didn't realize how exhausted I was."

"I know. That took a lot out of you. Just close your eyes and get some rest."

"Hold me," she purred.

Alan obliged, gently coiling his soft, tentacled form around her. The pod walls enveloped the pair. Though they remained upright, the alien bedding supported them in perfect comfort. With a dreamy smile on her face, Lyssa drifted off to sleep and Alan soon followed. Together, they dreamed peacefully of love, affection and tentacle sex.



Torment: The Princess



The farmer could hear them coming. The thunderous claps of hundreds of hooves against the arid ground always signaled their inevitable arrival.

The wooden house, although sturdy, shook as the sounds grew in intensity. The beams trembled; throwing dust down from the ceiling, and onto the four figures huddled against the wall facing the door.

The farmer held his wife, young daughter and son close to him. The sunlight peeked into the house through tiny cracks in the wood; the farmer had shut all windows and the door tight, bolted them.

Every year, the riders came, and each time, they took some of the people away. The farmer had survived the previous raids unscathed, and so had the rest of his family. Each time, it was a matter of staying hidden and unnoticed.

But now, the farmer had his doubts. Never had he heard the sounds of so many riders before. As they swept past his house in an unstoppable wave, he heard near and distant screams from the village folk.

Occasionally, a large shadow would dart past his house, blocking out the rays of light touching the gray, stone floor inside. 

For many tense minutes, the farmer held his breath, praying that they would not be found. Things, however, were not as he hoped them to be.

A particularly large shadow suddenly stopped in front of his door, and the house was plunged into near-total darkness.

Then, the door simply swung open and fell off its hinges, taking the heavy metal bolts with them.

There was no time to react. Three tall and muscular men clad in black body armor stepped through the open doorway. White laced the edges of their armor and helmets, which covered the entire head but the eyes.

Swords were unsheathed and their gleaming blades thrust towards the farmer and his family.

"Hand them over to us," one of them demanded.

The farmer stared fearfully at the warriors. Shaking his head stubbornly, he drew his loved ones closer to him.

The soldier who spoke did not hesitate, stepping forward quickly and pulling the helpless farmer up by his throat.

Choking, the man tried to shout for help, while the other two riders approached his wife and children.

"Hand them over, now, and you may be spared their fate!" the soldier repeated, his tone hostile.

"Leave them alone, you bastards!" the farmer blurted.

Without a word, the soldier thrust his sword forward, impaling the other man through the belly and shattering his spine. The dripping blade emerged from the back, coated in blood.

There was a gasp, and then the farmer went limp. Drawing his sword out of the bleeding corpse, the warrior released the dead man and let him fall to the ground.

He gestured to his comrades, who slit the throat of the farmer's wife in an instant. The young girl and boy watched in horror as their parents, alive and well a few seconds ago now lay motionless beside them.

"Take them both," the first soldier ordered, and his comrades closed in on the pair.

They did not struggle much, for they knew what awaited them if they did not obey.

After the children were bound, they were secured on a large wagon led by black steeds. The riders pulled the reins and kicked their mounts into motion. All around him, the dozens of horsemen rode, leading their horses in a single direction away from the village, their captives on the wagons trailing behind them.

The Princess always looked forward to this time of the year. Her loyal soldiers would venture forth from her fort, raiding the nearby communities of farmers, and very often bringing back much food to sustain themselves, jewelry and ornaments for the Princess to adorn herself with.

But what she really desired were the prisoners her men brought back, so that the captives could be turned into slaves subservient and loyal to her, to add to the swelling ranks of her army as well as to satisfy her personal needs, which were many.

The Princess fled from her kingdom home when she was twelve, just six years ago, after her treacherous brother had murdered her father to usurp the throne. The strife and conflict that ensued forced her to leave the once-peaceful land to find a better home somewhere else. Those loyal to her had followed, where they found an abandoned fort many days' ride from the kingdom border.

Romana Nightingle was gorgeous. The Princess had a way to keep herself more beautiful than all the other maidens around her. It was a secret that only her closest and most trusted advisors and servants knew of, and Romana preferred to keep it that way for as long as she could.

Everyone knew that the Princess made the young men and women her soldiers captured into slaves, but few realized what else she did with them. A small portion of the captives would always be sent to the Princess's vast network of chambers, but rarely did anyone see more than two-dozen of these new servants taking orders from her.

Many had heard wild rumors of what Romana did to the remainder of her new slaves, but none of them dared speak of her in public, except by soft whisperings in the ear.

The Princess did not tolerate gossip, and she did what she could to silence the talkative ones.

Now, Romana removed her translucent robes, and the soft fabric flowed gently down her voluptuous figure. The long, black hair shone healthily in the dim light of the candles around her, and the Princess took a step towards the bathing hole, made of polished stone and set into the floor. It was empty, but very soon it would be filled.

There was an expected knock on the wooden door of the small room. "You may enter," Romana called out.

The door opened and a stout, handsome man appeared through the doorway. Behind his deep-set eyes, a great intelligence stirred in constant thought. When he spoke, his majestic voice made others quiver before his muscular form.

Romana wasn't surprised to see him. "Mistress, I have brought you some presents," the man said, eyes on the floor.

Turning, the Princess displayed her stark naked body in full view of her favorite servant, the Master Servant Freid Malrekoz.

"Ah...my dear Freid," Romana cooed, walking towards the man, her feet making soft sounds upon the tiled floor. "What surprises have you brought for me?"

Freid was the only servant in the entire fortress who was allowed to see the Princess fully unclothed. And each time, her near-angelic beauty enchanted him. It was Freid who saved the Princess from her brother when he turned on her.

Romana treated the man more than a servant. Freid was her most loyal friend and she could almost call him a brother. The term 'servant' was just a guise.

The young woman stood before the man, running a delicate hand down his broad chest. Freid looked away from the Princess's intense gaze, avoiding completely the brown orbs that stared unblinking at him.

Clearing his throat, the man shouted, "Come in!" One by one, a beeline of figures walked into the chamber.

Girls. There were more than a dozen naked virgin girls. "Untouched, untried and uncorrupted," Freid grinned, "all of them the fruits of our annual harvest two days ago."

"Why, thank you, Freid!" Romana gushed excitedly. "I'll see what I can do with them."

The girls, fifteen of them, stood huddled together before the pair. Arms bound in thick ropes behind them, the females stood in silence. 

Freid strode up to them, a curled-up whip clutched tightly in his hand. "Kneel before the Princess, you whores! How dare you stand in her presence!" the master servant roared, unfurling the long, black whip and lashing it out at the new slaves.

A pained cry arose from one of the young girls as the tough leather drew a fiery line of red across her back. She immediately fell to her knees, bending over in agony. Another snapping sound, and the next girl screamed as flecks of her blood rained onto the floor.

"Down, I say! Down!" Freid continued his whipping, taking pleasure in forcing the disobedient slaves into subservience.

"That is enough," Romana said at last when all the slaves lay writhing on the floor. Their whimpers filled the humid air.

Freid bowed, awaiting orders from the one he served.

"Hmm...I would like to have a bath, my dear Freid. It's so hot in here!" Romana exclaimed.

"I will prepare the water immediately," the master servant replied.

"No, no," the Princess stopped the man as he turned away. "I want a blood bath, and I want you in there with me. It'll be a nice little reward for my dear Freid who's been so loyal to me."

"But...but I can't, mistress! I'm merely a servant!" Freid protested.

"I insist," Romana smiled, her eyes sparkling.

The master servant couldn't look away now. Those eyes seemed to draw him in, to a dream world where his fantasies came to life. But, he couldn't believe this, he kept telling himself. The Princess was asking him to join her in the bathing hole!

"Begin the preparations!" she ordered him.

Dropping the whip, Freid reached into his shirt pocket, and pulled out a medium-sized dagger, where rubies adorned its handle on both sides.

The double-edged blade was still as sharp as when it was first forged. The master servant took pride in maintaining well the tools he possessed.

As he approached them, the girls thought at first that their captor was finally going to cut their bonds. But it was not to be. With a wild cry, Freid raised the dagger, and then plunged it down, with all his might, deep into one of the girls' bare backs. The blood spurted out like a fountain, drenching the floor in a deep red.

The other slaves suddenly stood up, running away from the man. Freid went after the next one, slashing the poor girl across the chest, drawing blood where cold steel met warm flesh.

No matter where the slaves tried to run, he would catch them. After all, the door was locked and the small chamber was the only place they could hide, which was not a good place considering that the room was devoid of anything but the candles and the bathing hole.

The Princess chuckled, stepping down slowly into the bath, as her servant sliced, cut and slit the throats of her slaves.

Their bleeding bodies fell all around her, and Romana watched as Freid dragged the corpses to the edge of the hole, where blood flowed down the stone sides and formed puddles of dark red at the bottom.

"It is done, mistress."

"Good! Fetch the water and we'll be ready for the most enjoyable bath you'll ever have in your life!" Romana declared.

The Princess examined the corpses around her as she waited for her servant. These were of good quality. Their blood was fresh and had a sweet scent to it. Virgin girls were the best anyone could find. She would remember to question her soldiers later which village they had taken these young females from. Their blood rejuvenated her, renewed her beauty.

Romana dipped a finger into the pool of blood forming at the bottom of the hole, and then raised it to her lips, licking up the red fluid with her tongue.

"How delicious..." she said aloud, before smearing some of it over her chest. Almost an instant later, she saw that the fair skin now glowed and looked healthier than before.

Freid returned then, pushing a cart of wooden barrels filled to the brim with water. Without a word, the man emptied them into the bathing hole, filling it up and mixing the thick blood and water together.

The Princess felt the water level rise, and with it came a wave of euphoria that coursed through her entire form. She trembled in pleasure as the blood water covered her to her upper body.

"You deserve this, my dear. Step inside, I promise you the best bath ever!"

Freid hesitated, took a step towards the hole, and then stopped abruptly.

"I really shouldn't be doing this, mistress," the man stammered, and Romana could feel the sexual tension in the man rise. Her servant was embarrassed to death, she knew.

"Aww...you know you want to..." the young woman beckoned, baring her chest at the man, where her full breasts stood as if inviting her servant to her.

Mesmerized, the servant stepped forward. He removed his clothes, lifted an unsteady foot over the edge and into the bathing hole, then did the same for the other limb.

The warm water sought to calm him further, and Freid soon found himself lost in a world of his own, where everything else around him except the lovely Princess ceased to exist.

For a long time, the man had fantasized about a scene like this, but he never thought it could actually come true. On many nights, he had rubbed himself raw while thinking about the young woman's luscious curves.

Romana took a handful of blood and water in cupped hands, splashing herself with it. The red drops trickled down her perfect body.

The Princess chuckled, noticing how her loyal servant seemed so drawn to her that his cheeks were flushed.

She reached out, searching for Freid's hand in the red liquid. When she found it, she brought it up towards her right breast. As soon as Freid's hand came into contact with her skin, he tensed.

Romana felt the master servant close his fingers around her mammary gland, squeezing it in his hand. The Princess moaned in mock pleasure. As she moved closer towards the man, she felt something hard poke at her pelvis.

The young woman wrapped her hand around the erect penis, closing her fingers tightly around the throbbing organ. Freid groaned. He had never experienced such an intense excitement in himself before. A wave of desire spread out from his belly, and then moved up, washing through his entire body.

The soft and supple mound of flesh he held in his left hand became flushed and red, but the Princess only smiled at him.

Then, she moved her body seductively, gyrating her hips and allowing the man's penis to rub roughly against her clean-shaven pelvis.

Romana raised her right leg and wrapped it around her servant's waist, using her hand to guide his penis into her slit.

When Freid felt his pleasure organ make contact with his mistress's vagina, he grew dizzy. It was too much for him! The burning lust sought to tear his mind apart! His penis was so hard and throbbed so much, he thought it would snap and fall off!

Suddenly, Freid felt warm flesh, and not water, around his manhood. The flesh pressed against the organ, tightening around his penis as he went deeper into the moist, hot cavern of his wildest fantasies.

Romana gasped. The thick rod of meat in her was so huge it sent a slight pain through her body. She wrapped her arms around the man's body, hugging him firmly. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, crushed so tightly between their wet bodies that they looked like melons ready to burst. For a long moment, the both of them stared at each other, locked in that awkward position.

Then, the Princess closed her eyes, and craned her neck towards the man. Freid felt the young woman's lips touch his, and the both of them kissed deeply. He probed his mistress's mouth with his tongue, tasting the sweet, salivary juices that mixed with his.

At the same time, he thrust his hips back and forth, sliding his penis against the slippery vaginal walls. Romana rotated her hips, adding increased friction on the man's organ.

Freid grabbed her buttocks, aiding in the pleasure process. Her skin was smooth like cream. Without warning, he felt a warmth rise up from deep within his body.

The Princess, too, seemed to sense this. The master servant knew that when he climaxed, it would be like a dormant volcano coming to life, spewing forth thick loads of sticky, hot semen.

Any moment now, he would feel that intense pleasure as he reached orgasm. His head swirling, he relaxed, knowing that it would be a mind-blowing experience.

Suddenly, before Freid could climax, Romana withdrew her body from his, pulling the hard penis out of her vagina.

"I'm hungry, my dear..." she whispered.

What was she thinking? Freid frowned. Maybe she was playing games with him or simply adding to his lust for her.

"Are you going to stare at me like that, or go get me something to eat?"

His mood darkened. Immediately, he scolded himself. He had been so privileged to have sex with his mistress, and now he was angry with her? No, he quickly told himself. He was just a servant; he had done what many others could only dream of.

"What would you like for your breakfast, mistress?" he asked.

A playful smile crossing her lips, Romana replied, "I have something else in mind. We'll visit the dungeon today for our meal. How's that, my dear?"

The dungeon, Freid thought. Why would she want to go there?

Then, it dawned on him. She had suggested breakfast, and the master servant recalled that one of her favorite snacks could be found only in mass quantities in the dungeon.

An hour later, the Princess and the Master Servant Freid strolled down the long flight of stairs that led to one of the few dungeons hidden beneath the fortress.

As was usual, Freid wore simple, plain brown robes that hung loosely on him, preferring the unfashionable clothing rather than the expensive and colorful ones that his mistress often provided him with. 

Romana, on the other hand, wore some of the countless garments she possessed, most of which her soldiers had raided from traveling merchants and traders or from nearby towns. She had skillfully combined a few of the more exotic garments and accessories to create a unique and, undeniably, attractive look.

Around her neck, Romana wore a silver necklace that had an oval-shaped blood diamond set into its pendant.

Black silk in the form of a short, rectangular sheet was curled around her slim body, partially covering her back, and held up on two corners only by rings pierced through the young woman's pink nipples. The sheet did little to conceal her feminine curves.

Around her waist were chains of gleaming gems of various colors that hung loosely on her body. A pendant covered her navel.

Her private parts were protected only by a spider-web of black cross-straps that smartly hit the Princess's genitals, yet flaunted her fleshy, uncovered buttocks superbly. A pair of dark, translucent stockings hugged her slender legs.

Long, flowing black hair draped over her round shoulders, but did not cover her breasts, which the men found so alluring. All in all, she was the wildest dream of males both young and old.

The stone walls of the dungeon were illuminated by the flickering light from candles perched on little holders set into the walls all around them. The Princess knew that there would be a wooden table and chairs at the bottom, where she sat to have breakfast once in a while during her visit.

When the pair cleared the final step, they saw that the place looked the same as when they last visited a week ago. The dungeon usually housed dozens of prisoners -- those the Princess did not need, yet.

Now, though, the prisoners -- all males -- were not in their cells. Romana had ordered her servants to take them out earlier. They were stark naked, spread-eagled and with their wrists and ankles bound and restrained by shackles and cuffs built into the walls.

Most of the time she visited the dusty, humid dungeon, the men would be in their cells, but whenever they saw the Princess, they would reach out, past the metal bars, their hands straining to touch her when she walked by.

They all lusted for her, she knew. That was one of the few reasons why she wore such revealing and provocative clothing whenever she came here. Such burning desire would make these prisoners eager to serve her when she turned them into her servants or soldiers.

They, however, also served an entirely different purpose. Every month, the Princess would make her way to the dungeons -- a different one each time -- with Freid in her company. It was here she enjoyed her special morning meals, with one of her favorite snacks to go with it.




Torment: The Princess



A servant who followed close behind the pair carried with him plates and cutlery, while another held a tray of freshly baked bread and wine in his hands.

"Leave them there," Romana said, gesturing at the table nearby. When they had done so, the servants immediately left, knowing well not to interrupt the pair.

"Let us check on the prisoners, shall we?" she asked, taking the lead and not expecting an answer.

Freid followed, a metal bowl in his hands. On many occasions, he felt that what his mistress did here was disgusting and repulsive, but he always obeyed without question, even if it sickened him.

Both walls of the dungeon flanking the pair were lined with dozens of male prisoners, their bodies in bondage.

As the Princess walked past the first prisoner, he started to squirm and struggle against his bonds, rubbing his skin raw and making a ruckus as he arched his body towards her.

The clanking of metal chains awoke the other prisoners, and as Romana watched in child-like fascination, the men started to groan. Their sweaty bodies were all arched towards her, penises erect and hard like a row of soldiers waiting to be inspected.

The throbbing organs were thrust into her face when she walked too close to them. The pleas and cries of the men did not go entirely unheard by the young woman. They were not begging to be freed. No, they were begging her to touch them. Like the temptress she was and will always be, Romana kept them hungry for her soft caress.

Each prisoner wore a Chain of Restraint on his penis. These were metal beads strung together on a silver chain and locked around the base of the penis, restricting blood flow back to the body, thus maintaining a constant erection. The increased pressure also added to their lust.

In the other dungeons, her prisoners wore up to six Chains of Restraint, depending on how long they had been kept there to serve her needs and provide her with the special treats only their bodies could produce.

Walking up to a particularly good-looking young man, Romana stared at him. The man glanced down at his penis and back at her, as if urging the Princess to touch him there. When she did nothing after a while, the man groaned. It was apparent that he was struggling very hard to control his searing desire. Romana felt some sympathy for him then.

Raising her hand, she brought a finger into contact with the man's penis. The Chain he wore was making the organ swell and flushed with blood. As if having a life of its own, the penis throbbed harder and harder.

Romana smiled, stroking the head of the penis with the finger. The man moaned in genuine and uncontrolled pleasure, his cheeks darkening. His eyelids partially closed, he waited for the Princess to pleasure him again. Just one more stroke! He begged silently.

But the warm and soft touch never came. Opening his eyes, he spotted the young woman walking away, her wide hips jiggling as she moved, her servant trailing behind her.

The torment she was putting him through drove him wild with sexual lust, and the man screamed in rage. Romana ignored the noise and continued her stroll.

These were men she would definitely want in her army. They were young, healthy, and the looks in their eyes told her they would fight to the death for her. That was one of her strengths. Her charms were many, but she was especially skilled in stimulating her prisoners almost to the point of orgasm, and then letting go and watching as they begged her to caress them one more time. Such were the ways she maintained loyalty in her new soldiers and slaves.

The sexual torment was probably too much for her prisoners, for they groaned and shook their bodies from side to side.

"Free them from their misery, dear Freid," Romana ordered the master servant, "and I want my snacks hot and well-served."

"Yes, mistress," the man bowed his head.

The Princess returned to the table and took a seat on one of the cushioned chairs. She spotted Freid grabbing a man's penis roughly and squeezing it in his hand. The man roared in both pain and pleasure, and Romana saw a thick, white stream of fluid spurt from the tip of the penis and into the bowl Freid held.

The organ deflated and went limp. The man hung his head low in exhaustion. Her servant went from one prisoner to another, repeating the process over and over again, until he had done the same to each one of them.

Freid, his task completed, returned to his mistress. The Princess's eyes sparkled in delight, and she took the bowl eagerly from her servant.

The hot and viscous semen filled the bowl to the brim. She held a spoon in her left hand, already anticipating the taste.

"You've done an excellent job! I'll remember to reward you when we get back," she said.

"You have my gratitude, mistress."

"Would you eat with me?" Romana asked, scooping up a large spoonful of the foul-smelling fluid.

Trying hard not to screw his face in disgust, Freid shook his head. "I prefer to have my bread eaten plain, mistress."

"Then I'll have them all for myself," she declared, nodding.

Lifting the metal spoon to her lips, she poured the warm semen into her mouth.

Although it smelled like fish, the fluid tasted better than the previous time she tried it. Different men produce different treats, she noted, amused. The delicious taste enticed her taste buds like spiced beef. She swallowed. The semen left a sour taste at the back of her throat, where it lingered long after her first spoonful. She took a sip of wine to remove it.

All this while, Freid stared at her, but when she returned the stare, her servant immediately looked away and chewed into his hard bread instead.

Next, Romana held her own piece of bread with her fingers, and dipped it gently into the bowl, just enough to soften the hard skin of the bread.

Then, she soaked it deeper for a moment longer, and brought it to her mouth. The Princess took a bite, thoroughly enjoying her meal, so much so that a few drops of semen trickled down her chin and landed on her breasts.

She chewed, while at the same time using her fingers to wipe the drops of creamy fluid off her body, then licked her finger clean.

At last, when the bread was consumed, Romana lifted the bowl to her lips and poured its contents into her mouth, downing it.

Streams of warm semen flowed down her chin and neck, but she was too focused on devouring her meal to notice them. Once she was done, the Princess moaned in pleasure and wiped away the drops of semen on her body with a napkin.

"I've just had an extremely enjoyable breakfast," she exclaimed.

"So have I, mistress. It's been a pleasure eating with you," Freid nodded.

"Come, let me take you to view your reward for making me so happy today," Romana said.

The pair stood, walking towards the stairs leading up to the Princess's chambers, while, behind them, the prisoners groaned and screamed, begging the young woman to remain for a moment longer...



Torment Time



Burying my face in her sweet smelling luxuriant auburn hair I breathed in its delicious fragrance. I had always loved her hair, so carefully tended and brushed until it shone like stars on a moonless, clear cold night.

As I kissed and ran my fingers through her lovely tresses with my other hand I sought and found her ripe pink nipple. I gently pressed it giving it a slight twirl as I did so.

“Mmmm, lovely darling; delightful,” she murmured. “Don’t stop for a while.”

She stretched her body as she responded to my touch, reminding me of the lithe movement of a panther. She pulled closer to me as she tried to maximise our body contact. She was soft and yielding against my flesh, moving slightly as she burrowed into me.

Complying with her wish for me not to stop my manipulation of her nipple, I continued my press and release of the pink little pinnacle, the tip of her full creamy breast. After a while I took the nipple into my mouth sucking and licking it while with my fingers I began to put soft pressure on her other nipple.

“Oh darling, you’re driving me mad, what are you trying to do to me? Oh my God, it’s so beautiful.”

I did not need to answer her rhetorical question we both knew what I was “trying to do to her.”

I withdrew from her nipple and moved up to kiss her mouth, her lips parted, inviting my tongue to explore within. As I began this I let my hand wander over her belly, stroking and pressing.

With my mouth over hers she could not speak, but made little noises of ecstasy; “Mmmm….Nnnn…Mmmm.”

The movement of her body against mine intensified. From slight warmth I now felt it heating up. Still caressing her belly I broke from the kiss and moved my body away from hers, breaking the physical contact apart from my belly kneading fingers.

I looked at her, my eyes taking in the beauty of her hair and breasts, the fine curving lines of her lovely figure and long perfectly formed legs.

“My God,” I thought for the hundredth time, “She’s all woman…all sensual desiring and desirable woman.”

With my body still separated from hers I once more pressed my mouth to her full receptive lips. This time it was her tongue that explored. My hand moved to her mons, swelling just above her vulva like a smooth rounded little mound. I began to massage it and got my reward.

“Oh my love…my darling…aaah….aaah…aaah.”

Beneath her mons the firm cleft of her labium slipped away like a defile, disappearing from sight between her legs. I ran my finger along its outer edge, feeling the wetness as her lubricant welled up from within.

She emitted little squeals of satisfaction as she parted her legs, inviting me into her depths.

Her hand sought and found my penis and lovingly took hold of it. I pushed her hand aside saying, “Not yet.”

I moved down, and placing my hands under her buttocks I raised her vulva upwards and bent to place butterfly wing kisses on her inner thighs. My lips lingered for a while enjoying the warmth of her smooth flesh, and then moving to her labium I let my tongue float over its lips.

I moved in deeper to lick her pink inner lips and begin to penetrate her opening.

Oh God, the wonder and beauty of woman. I could taste her, smell her; the enchanting taste and fragrance of woman. I lapped up her fluid letting it linger in my mouth, mixing it with my saliva to swallow it.

She was squirming and crying out now. “Oh my darling, my love, my lover, I want you….want you…want you so badly…oh…oh…arghhh.”

I lifted the little hood of flesh over her clitoris and my tongue explored that sweet island, circling it, licking and sucking.

Her hands came round the back of my head to force it against her. Her writhing had become a thrashing struggling movement and her cries changed to, “Yes, oh yes…please…please…don’t stop…don’t stop…oh…ah…oh…”

I forcefully pulled my head away from her and moved so we were not touching.

“Oh no…darling…I’m right on the edge…please….please….don’t stop now…”

Her eyes were closed so I placed my lips close to one pretty little ear and said, “Ask me nicely.”

“You beast…you beast…you wicked evil beast…”

“That’s not asking nicely.”

“Don’t leave me like this….please…darling…I’m in hell…”

“Is it nice there?”

Her eyes were wide open, staring at me wildly in the agony of her suspended orgasm. I smiled down at her.

“You horrible fiend…you can’t leave me like this…please…”

“Yes I can leave you like this.”

She stretched out her arm to the bedside cabinet and opened the draw. She took out a vibrator and I watched as she placed inside her labium.

“I’ll finish myself,” she gasped.

I watched her, amused as she pressed the button of the vibrator. Nothing happened.

“It won’t work,” she howled, shaking the offending item. “Why won’t it work?”

I began kissing her face, starting at her forehead, punctuating each kiss with words.

“Because… forehead… my… eyes… love… nose… I… lips…removed… chin… the… neck and shoulder join…battery.”

“You sadist…you bloody sadist,” she whimpered.

I watched her as she put her fingers into her vagina and began working them in and out, her thumb circling her clitoris. She was weeping and crying out, “Aaargh…aaargh…aaargh.”

Suddenly her whole body convulsed, thrusting upwards. Her hand moved faster and she gave out a piercing scream followed by sounds like, “Naa…naa…naa…”

Her cries and moans diminished as she passed beyond the climax of her orgasm. Her body relaxed and she lay gasping.

I looked at her; she seemed soft and warm, and very beautiful. I wondered if it was true of all women, that they look their loveliest just after an orgasmic experience. It was certainly true of her. She seemed to snuggle into herself and looked as if she was harbouring some delicious secret. 

She lay still for several minutes then said, “Now sadist, try some of your own medicine.”

I was pushed on to my back and she came astride me.

“Now,” she muttered in a sinister voice, “I’ll tell you exactly what is going to happen. You are going to lie there completely relaxed. I shall then let you enter me but, if there is the slightest movement from you, any sign of tension or the least sound, I shall withdraw. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” I said humbly, and relaxed.

She slowly lowered her self on to me and at the first touch of her warm moist interior I could not resist a gasp.

She pulled back immediately. “What did I just tell you? Now let’s try it again.”

She came down on me again and I fought not to react as I entered her. Her delectable vaginal tunnel slowly engulfed my shaft and I had to struggle against the temptation to seize her hips and pull her down to my full length.

Millimetre by millimetre she took me into her with agonising slowness until finally I felt my crown touching the end of her tunnel. There she stopped, looking down at me, an evil glint in her eyes.

“Is that nice my love?” She asked with honey sweetness.

“Wonderful,” I gasped.

In a flash she withdrew again.

“I said not a sound.”

She made me wait for a few moments, and then once more slowly dropped down on me.

Resting once more with my full length in her she asked, “Would you like me to start moving?”

I stopped myself from answering just in time.

“Good, very good, just go on like that and we’ll have a lovely time, my darling.”

I lay very still and she began a slow movement, drawing my penis out of her until only the crown was inside, then dropping slowly down again. 

Through watching her gratify her self before, I had already been brought to near orgasm, so I was now suspended in agonising torment, wanting her to let me release myself into her.

I felt the tingling aching sensation as the first burst of semen got ready to pump up my shaft and into her, but I needed her to speed up. I would have begged and pleaded with her if I dared, and she went on with her slow withdrawing and thrusting down with tormenting relentlessness.

“You’d like me to move faster, wouldn’t you my love? You want so badly to come into me, don’t you?”

It came out before I could stop it; “Yes.”

She came away from me in a flash.

“Now we shall have to start all over again, won’t we, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can be a good boy this time.”

She began again the torturously slow penetration, the lingering, then the unhurried movement again. It was taking all my will power to keep still and silent.

She began to speed up and the first outburst of sperm was on its way. I lost control and grasped her hips to drag her down and she sprang back from me.

The first explosion shot out of me, shooting up several feet into the air. I was dimly aware that she was watching me, her head propped on her hand, elbow on the bed.

To give myself a full ejaculation I needed her or, my only alternative, to masturbate. I took hold of my foreskin and began to pump it up and down as sperm continued to shoot out of me. I heard a voice that I new must be my own, groaning and gasping. Oh God, how I wanted her, wanted to put all that discharge into her, but she lay there grinning at me, enjoying my orgasmic agony.

At last I finished and began to feel post ejaculation relaxation creep over me. She nuzzled down beside me, burying her head into the crook of my arm saying, “I told you not to move or make a sound.” Then we both laughed; me a little weakly.

We lay in each others arms for about ten minutes, and then she said, “Darling, I think we should have one more to complete things, don’t you?”

I needed no second bidding. I already had another erection so she lay on her back, spread her legs and I came into her. There was no tormenting or pulling back this time. We found each other’s rhythm and strove to give the other full gratification.

We spoke of love and desire, our devotion to each other our need of each other. We laughed and smiled, until both of us on the edge of orgasm, struggled in ecstasy as she screamed and wept, and I moaned and cried out.

When we had finished we lay still united, looking into each other’s eyes, and continuing to speak of the deep love between us.

We must have stayed like that for a quarter of an hour, and then she said, “I think you’d better go now, darling, he’ll be back soon. I must have a shower in case he wants to…you know.”

Reluctantly I withdrew from her. It was like losing half of my self. I kissed her once more softly on the lips and asked, “Torment time again tomorrow evening?”

“Of course, my love.”

I got off the bed and looked back at her, so lovely, so desirable.

“Goodnight, my love,” she said softly.

“Goodnight, mother,” I responded, and left her.



Tormented



It's been years since I've seen him, not that it really matters. He still haunts me, still calls my name. A part of me will always be tied to him. I guess I should explain myself. He is my best friend, Chris. I've known him for the past 15 years of my life. We met when we were five years old, but it seems like it was yesterday. We were so young, naive and innocent. I fell in love with him, he was my immortal, my god. Months turned into years and we grew up, growing apart and seperated once I moved. I always thought of him and then when I was 13 I bumped into him again. God how he had changed. More handsome and charming, but still my Chris. We went to a dance together and he gave me Carnations. I still don't know why he did that. He broke my heart the last time I talked to him, he swore that he was going to marry his girlfriend. I cried so hard that night. But then somenthing changed. 

Two nights ago, I found myself in his basement and the door was locked. We were talking about life and I turned so my back was to him. He snuck up behind me and twirled me around, planting a gentle kiss on my lips which totally took me by surprise. 

I backed away and said "Chris?" and he said to me the words I've waited fifteen years for him to say. 

He said "I love you Jess and I want you." 

I melted in that moment. I could hardly believe what was happening. He started kissing me and everything seemed so perfect. the look in his eye was precious, loving yet desperate. He caressed my cheek and then started unbuttoning my shirt, taking it off with extra care. 

He whispered in my ear "I'm sorry it took so long for me to realise just who beautiful you are." 

I couldn't help but cry a little, I was just so amazed. He went for my jeans after taking off my top. He unzipped them and then picked me up, putting me on the couch. He then took of his black shirt and his jeans, leaving us both with only two things on each. He kissed my stomach then, which made me giggle. He reached up, taking me in a hug and unhooked the back of my bra, letting in fall to the ground. 

He gasped and whispered "I never realized." 

Then he went for my thong. 

I stopped him for a second and said "there's no going back from here Chris, if we do this, we both belong to each other, two lovers taking each other's innocence. if we do so, we will always belong to each other." 

He looked at me and said "I know darling, I'm ready for that. are you?" 

I smiled back at him and said "I've been waiting for this since we turned 15, I'm ready." He pulled down the thong with his teeth and I heard him gasp again. 

"God in heaven I have never seen a creature more beautiful," he said. Then he took of his remaining clothing. It was my turn to gasp. he was harder then any man I have ever seen. 

"Oh Chris," I quietly sighed. 

He silenced me with a crushing french kiss, pushing me back onto the couch. He started kissing me all over, down my body and to my pussy. I gasped as he breathed over it, I couldn't help but squirm. He gently touched my cheek and said that he'd gentle. Chris kissed my clit then in that moment and I gasped. I had never been touched down there before, so I had no idea what to expect. The coolness of his mouth to my clit was exquisite. I moaned loudly and I saw his eyes sparkle and he licked down my slit and inside my folds. I cried out his name and then he stuck his tongue inside me. I caved in that moment, I couldn't help it. I came and I came hard. 

He moaned "Oh jess" into my pussy and kept licking inside me, sending waves of lust through me, bulding every time he moved his tongue.

"That pussy tastes incredible," he whispered, making me blush. 

Then he hit my g spot. My eyes widened, my hips arched to his licks and I came again, harder this time. Then he stopped, moved up and kissed me fully on the mouth, letting me taste myself. I was amazed and stunned as his tongue moved in my mouth. Then I knew that I had to repay him. He took my place and I got ontop of him, trailing kisses down his body. he had always been mine in my mind, now I was going to get to have him, perfection in my mind. I couldn't believe how hard he was, I gasped at the sight of it. 

He looked up at me and said "You did that Jess. Only you." 

I had waited for what seemed like a lifetime to hear those words. The excitement was intense as I let my fingers touch him for the first time. He and I both gasped. While he was hard, his skin was so soft and smooth and smelled like the ocean. I couldn't get enough, I kept on touching him as he sighed contentedly. I had to taste him, I just had to. I let my lips come down on him and I gently licked him. He gasped and sat upright. 

"Oh fuck Jessica," he moaned, "That feels wonderful." 

That was all I needed to hear as he gently kissed my head and then lay back down. I took him in my mouth then. God the taste of him went to my brain, sending long shivers down my back. He tasted like vanilla apple cider, my favorite thing in the world. His moans echoed in the room as I sucked, nibble, and rubbed him. 

I felt him tense in my mouth and he cried out "Fuck Jess, I'm gonna cum!" 

I nodded and kept on sucking him, not letting up a second. He came in my mouth then. Oh god what an experience. He filled my mouth, twice and I swallowed. A blaze went up my body and he kissed me again. 

"Let me make love to you Jess, please," he begged. 

I couldn't refuse. I had been waiting so long for this. I laid back down and he positioned himself ontop of me, stroking my hair tenderly. 

"This might hurt a bit," he warned. 

I nodded, I knew all too well. Both of us were virgins, about to cross the line together. He slid inside me then, in one stroke. I cried out in amazement, lust, and pain. He stayed still until I told him I was ok and then he continued. Slow, steady, gentle strokes inside me and then out again; over and over again. I was in heaven. He kept on making love to me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I couldn't love him more, he was mine and I was his. He slowed down and then speed up, drawing dreamlike tension between our bodies, sending sparks everywhere. He kissed me and pushed against me, I couldn't keep back anymore. I had to let go. 

"I'm gonna cum Chris," I whispered. 

"Then cum my love, cum for me," he whispered back passionatly. 

I feel then, shuddering, twitching in pleasure, love, desire. He kissed me and then came hard inside me. Molton pleasure washed over me, I could hardly believe it. Christopher, my Christopher, the one I had been chasing for the past 15 years, was finally, MINE. I feel asleep in his arms, content and full of love for this man, he was the one. I knew that much. Something stirred inside me early the next morning, I woke up and I was alone. I looked at the clock, it was 3 am. I swore under my breath as I realized just where I was really. I was in my own room, alone as usual. It had all been a fucking dream. Another stab at the old wound he caused when he broke my heart. Someday when I have the courage I'll tell him exactly what he's done to me and how much he's hurt me. For now though, I'm forever torchered by my dreams, my memory is of the boy that I used to love.



Tormented



He strained to produce more. He had been at it for over an hour now and even though he knew she would give him all the time he needed; it was the number of edges that concerned him. He ran his fingers up and down his shaft, desperately coaxing out another drop. A small drop formed on his head, not as much as he would like, but it was something. Looking down at the circle in the mirror he seen he was almost there, but he had already stopped six times and the times between edges was decreasing rapidly.

Her rule was simple, he was to stroke himself and fill up the circle she made on the mirror with pre-cum. She kept a tally of every time he reached the edge and had to stop stroking. If he paused for more than 30 seconds she would assume he had quit and would forfeit any opportunity to cum this week. In addition he would owe her an edge for every time he stopped, every night, until next Sunday.

His cock began to swell and his balls were tensing up. He knew he was going to have to stop again soon. Her laughter broke his concentration. "That's going to been seven dear. Tsk, tsk. It would be a shame. This would be your fourth week." She opened her silk robe and spread her legs, exposing her trimmed pussy. He let go of his cock and looked at her with pleading eyes. 

She curled out her lower lip, mocking him as she clicked the stop watch. "Don't cry. I mean if you really, really wanted this" she began fingering herself "then you would have been done by now. Wouldn't you rather fuck me than sit there jerking off. Cause that's all you'll be doing every night till next Sunday when I'll let you start over again."

"5, 4, 3, 2" she counted and he hastily began stroking again. He worked slowly and deliberately, pushing up the underside of his shaft. Another large dollop soon formed and he dropped it into a dry spot. He looked down to see one last spot remaining. He could it, he thought. He massaged his balls with his free hand and swirled his perineum with the other. 

"I think I'm going to enjoy you edging for me every night again this week. Watching your balls swell before my very eyes." She laughed as she spoke. She knew that did the trick. He grunted and strained just before stopping again. She smiled as she started the stop watch again. "Mmmmm, eight edges every single night for six nights. Oh, my my. You know I'm starting to think you don't want to fuck me." 

Eight edges every night, he shuddered. He looked up at her. She was grinning, stopwatch in one hand and the other buried deeper her crotch. "3, 2..." he snapped back to life and began sliding his hand down his shaft. 

He tried to block out her taunting as he concentrated on getting just a bit more out. "Just stop now Honey. You know you'd rather do this for another week than let it slide in and out of me." she was intent on trying to get another pause out of him. "Come on admit it. You love licking me on command and bringing me to a heavenly orgasm, don't you?" 

He felt another edge building as her words sank in. Looking down just in time he seen the bead of pre-cum he needed to finish off the circle. 

"Oh my God. You actually did it!" she said surprised at his accomplishment. She inspected the mirror very carefully, just to be sure. Secretly she hoped she could find a dry spot. "OK, well on to phase two." Confusion spread across his face as she fished out an ten sided die from her robe pocket. 

"I was starting to think I wouldn't need this. Would you like to roll or should I?" He knelt in front of her, as if in shock, wondering what was going on. "I started with a four sided die and added two sides every week. Next week would have been twelve. Mmmmmm." She smiled as she cast the die across the coffee table. 

Six.

"Yes!!" she cried out pumping her fists in the air. "Oh this is good Baby, trust me. I wish it were a ten, but I'll settle for a six. This means you get to fuck me to orgasm six times before Saturday morning." 

"Really!!" he asked, excitedly. "Six times. Oh, thank goodness. This is going to be great. Honey, you have no idea how bad I need to come and to have the opportunity to empty my swollen sacks six times in a week is wonderful."

She stopped cold.

A wave of fear washed over him as he spied he reaction. "Oh, I'm sorry" she began "I think you misunderstood me. You get to fuck me to six orgasms, not have six orgasms." She picked up the die and looked back at him. The smile dropped from her face. "Don't you want to fuck me?" 

"I do. It's...."

"Then you should be happy. Most men get excited when they are given a chance to fuck a hot chick. Am I no longer attractive?"

"You are babe. You're the hottest of the hottest...."

"Then it should be an honor for you to stick your thing in me."

"Yes, it is, but I was hoping to......"

"Stop" she threw up her hand and glared at him. "Don't tell me about your needs. What did we say about your needs."

He looked down at her feet. "My needs are secondary to yours."

"And why is that?"

"For too long I selfishly tended to my own needs while ignoring yours."

"That's right, dear and until I am satisfied that you understand this we shall continue this" she leaned forward as she spoke, waging a finger at him "and remember what happens to bad boys who have accidents." 

"They are punished and put in a cage."

"That's right, dear. For one year!" 

"Also, if I don't get my six orgasms by Friday, then I double the size of this circle next Sunday." she said holding up the mirror.

She motioned him with her finer and spread her legs. "Now come over here and put that tongue of yours to work before we go upstairs and start on your task."

He crawled over and inhaled deeply as he drew closer, thinking to himself at how great she smelled. He wanted to please her so bad so that they could end this game and move on. She smiled to herself though at her her own wants and he had no way of knowing that they were totally different from his.



Tormented



She arrived at his house late. Her eyes bloodshot, her eyeliner smudged down her pretty face from her tears. He smiled out of the window as he saw her let herself in then heard her dainty footsteps coming down the corridor. The front door to his one bedroom flat opened and he heard her soft voice calling plaintively down to him.

"Ryan? You home?"

"In here babe," she came into his bedroom in a cloud of sweet perfume and the air of the heartbroken. "What's he done this time?"

She flung herself into his lap her strong legs straddling his own and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. Her dark brown eyes stared into his own green orbs and her full bottom lip trembled, she crushed her lips to his and he groaned into her mouth as she began to grind in his lap. 

Standing he took her with him and pressed her against the wall, wrapping her long, chestnut brown curls in one strong hand he tilted her head back and kissed quickly down her neck.

She moaned softly and wrapped her legs tighter around him pressing her hips harder against his. She small hands pulled his t-shirt over his head while he dispatched of her button down shirt, reaching between them he ripped her small shorts from her body with a tearing sound. Her strong fingers raked her nails down his strong exposed chest and she shuddered in his arms.

Grinning he threw her onto the bed and kicked off his jeans, crawling back between her legs he kissed from her belly button up to the soft curves of her breasts that her black lace bra did nothing to hide, she sighed and threaded her fingers through his wavy blonde mess of hair. Wrapping his lips around her small pink nipple he thrust gently against her until she was shivering uncontrollably.

"Please Ryan," her hips were thrusting up against him without her thinking and her eyes were sparkling with lust. He snapped the thin strings holding her panties to her before kicking his boxers to the floor. He entered her in one powerful thrust and she cried out in pleasure. "Better baby?"

She nodded and whimpered as her continued to move inside her with deep, deliberate thrusts, once again her husky cry escaped as she dug her nails into his back hard enough to draw blood, in a move so quick it startled even him she shifted them so that she lay on top of his muscular frame and a mischievous smile curved her pouting lips, her curved hips moved slowly against him and his hands curled into fists on her thighs as he fought to keep control. Her body began to tense and shiver slightly as her climax built and he grabbed her hips and began to thrust up against her almost violently. 

"Oh, God! Ryan!" She came on another husky cry and crushed her lips to his again. He threw her onto her hands and knees and entered her again roughly from behind. Blind to anything but his own pleasure he pounded into her, he felt her tight pussy clamp round his cock once more before he groaned and shot rope after rope of cum into her. They collapsed in a heap on the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their chests heaving. "So," he started when they could talk again. "What happened this time?"

"He's a dick," she rolled onto her side and he curled himself around her soft, naked body. Little trembles still shook her body and he ran a calloused thumb up and down her arm. "I got home slightly later than I said I would and he kicked off, calling me a whore, accusing me of sleeping around behind his back. Said if I wasn't with him I'd be alone forever, no one else would want a slut like me and that I was lucky he stayed with me."

"So you had a fight about you sleeping with other people?"

"Yeah."

"So what do you come and do?"

"That's beside the point."

"It's not though baby," he felt her pull away from him slightly and sighed. "Look its not like I don't love it when you come round."

"Do not fucking patronise me," she stood and planted her hands on her beautifully rounded hips. 

"If you don't want me anymore then I'll just leave." In a second he had stood and pressed her against the wall with one hand on her throat. "Don't you fucking say that. If it would be that easy for you to leave me, then fucking go but don't act like I want you to."

She lashed out her fist connecting with his jaw but he didn't even flinch. Screaming she pushed against him with all her strength, he stumbled backwards and she flung herself at his chest, he caught her round the waist mid-air and threw her against the wall. She hit and plaster shattered around her.

"You bastard!" Reaching to the side of her she wrapped a hand around the leg of his bedside table, swinging it round she smashed it against the side of his head, he stumbled backwards clutching the side of his head.

"I've only just replaced that you fucking whore." She smiled nastily. "A whore?" Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Call me that again."

"Fucking. Whore." A snarl came from her throat and snatched the floor lamp from behind her, swinging it violently she attempted to hit him again, he snatched it from her hand and brought it round catching the back of her head, she cried out and ran at him, planting her hands firmly on his chest she pushed with all her strength driving him onto the bed. The legs collapsed under her strength but before she could land back on him he kicked out with both legs and she slammed into the wall.

They lay still for a moment counting injuries and listening to bones knit back together. Slowly he crawled over to her and sat leaning against the wall his hand resting gently on her thigh.

"You going back to him?"

"Is there a point?" Her eyes were closed and a single tear ran down her face. "I'll never be happy with him."

"Why?"

"Will you really make me say it?"

"Yes, I want to hear it."

"But you already know why."

"I want to hear you say it."

"What will it prove."

"Say it!"

"Because, he's not you! I can never be happy, because he's not you." Her eyes remained closed and she turned her head away from him slightly, he pulled her onto his lap so she straddled his legs, she shook her head and tried to move away. "Please Ryan this is difficult enough."

"You want to leave me?"

"No but I have to. It's not fair on me, it's not fair on you and it's not fair on anyone around us. We can never give them what we give each other but we can't stay like this." Finally her eyes opened and she gestured around the destroyed room. Dropping her head to his shoulder she sighed as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

"I don't want you to go."

"I know, but even you know that this had to happen at some point."

He pulled her closer to him and kissed her neck gently. She tried to pull away but his strong arm kept her to him, nipping gently at her collar bone he felt her shudder then melt against him and knew he had her. Grasping her butt in his hands he moved her hips back and forth in his lap until she moaned and her head fell backwards, he could feel her pulse flutter under his lips and took her earlobe between his teeth.

Lifting her slightly he guided her down onto his hardness and she sobbed against his shoulder.

"Ryan please."

"Please what?"

"Don't make me say it." He held her still and she growled in frustration.

"Tell me what you want baby."

"I cant, I cant keep doing this."

"Tell me what you want," he could feel her trying to thrust her hips against him. "Tell me."

"Fuck me Ryan, please." He growled and threw her onto her back thrusting hard into her soft, hot body. His fingers curled into her thigh leaving dark bruises on her soft skin, leaning down he bit her neck and felt the skin brake under his teeth, her sweet blood flooded his mouth and he sucked on the wound. "Oh my god!" She came, shivering violently around him as he kissed her, his body tensed above her and he muffled his cry against her shoulder. He slumped atop her body, his breathing ragged and kissed her cheek gently.

"I love you." Her voice was quiet and another tear slid down the soft skin of her cheek.

"I love you too Lily. I always will."



Tormented by Love



You greet me at the door, wearing nothing more than a seductive smile and a very sexy set of lingerie. You pull me in to kiss me, running your hands up and down my back as I run mine up and down yours. When I grab your ass, you do the same to me. I chuckle as you run your finger down my chest and turn, beckoning me to follow you, as you saunter away with a swish of your hips. 

I of course come in, and when I am right where you want me you turn and suddenly jump into my arms, wrapping your legs around me. My hands move to grab your ass and hold you up, and you proceed to grind your crotch into mine. I smile at your aggressiveness as you passionately kiss me. You slowly release your legs and stand on your own, still kissing me. You break away and smile at me, as your hands grab my shirt and take it off me, leaving me topless. You trail your fingers on my chest, and bend over to kiss my nipple. You then go for my belt, slowly unbuckling it and sliding it out, wrapping it around yourself and then dropping it to the floor. You bend down to look my zipper in the eye as you unfasten my pants, tugging them down to my ankles to reveal a very large tent in my boxers. 

You giggle with glee at the sight, and then remove my socks and shoes so you can get my pants all the way off. I now stand before you in just my boxers, my dog tags, and a huge grin. You press your body against me as you rise again, making sure that I feel your breasts around my cock before you are once again standing in front of me, kissing me and removing my dog tags. You then proceed to kiss my cheek, and my neck, spending lots of time there to my great pleasure. Moving slowly downward, you kiss my shoulder, and down to my nipple. You spend a lot more time there, teasing it with your tongue and your lips, and only the faintest suggestion of your teeth. You can feel me pressing my groin against you anxiously as you smile and move to the other one. After making sure it is treated just as nicely, you take your tongue and continue tracing it down my body.

You reach my belly button and pause there to swirl your tongue around, teasing me and tickling me a little. You look up and see the expression of pleasure on my face, and know how much I am thoroughly enjoying what you are doing to me. You take the waistband of my boxers in your teeth, and pull them down, making my dick pop out and bounce against your face. We both giggle and you say how glad you are that I'm excited to see you. You fully remove my boxers, and then come back up to my waist. Smiling, you stick out your tongue and lick me from my balls all the way to the tip of my head. I moan in pleasure, and you stand up and push me back onto the bed. 

You tell me to stretch out my arms and legs, and I see the ties you have already prepared on the bed. I smile and let you attach me, and then I ask you where the blindfold is. You tell me I don't get one, that's my torture. After making sure that I can't move, you go and turn on some music. It's a song about sex, and you slowly start to sway your sexy body to the music. 

Your hands move up and down your body, accentuating its wonderful curves. You turn around and shake your sexy ass at me, running your hand along it as if I wasn't paying enough attention to it already. Your hands then move up and remove your top, still facing away from me. You glance coyly over your now-bare shoulder, and then turn around, your hands cupped over your perfect tits. You shake them up and down to the beat, not letting me fully view them. Finally you trail your fingers away slowly, teasing your now-hard nipples. Your hands slide down your hips, cocking them and striking a very erotic pose. 

You "model" for me a few more times, spinning around, until the song is almost ending and you pull down your panties, sticking your hot ass towards me, and turn around with a flourish. One hand covering your pussy, and the other tosses the sopping wet underwear perfectly onto my nose as the song ends.

I inhale deeply, loving your scent, and you know it. You saunter over towards me, moving your hips so I can't easily see the wonder between them. You come over and bend down, rubbing your tits on my chest as you kiss me. I stick my tongue in your mouth and eagerly play with yours, but you won't let it last. 

You climb up on top of me, throwing your leg over my hip as you straddle my crotch. Your dripping wet pussy lips wrap around my hard shaft, and you start rocking back and forth, smiling at me. The sight of your wonderfully bare cunt on my cock is amazing, and I thrust my hips up towards you. You reach down and take my cock, positioning it at the entrance to your hole, and look longingly at it. Then you slide forwards, looking back at me with a wicked gleam in your eyes. 

Your hands slide lovingly over your nude body, as you sit on my stomach. I can see everything you are doing, but cannot touch you. Your hands slide between your legs, and you let out a moan as you tilt your head back. I can see your fingers touching your clit, sliding between your lips, pleasuring you. You slide them in and out, and make me wish I could help you. Then you keep one hand down there, while the other hand takes your juices and smears them on your body, from your stomach to your breasts. You get some more and rub it all over your breasts, making them glisten in the light. My mouth waters at how much I want to taste them, and you know this full well. 

You grin evilly at me while you are doing this, knowing how much it torments me in the good way. Your fingers play with your nipples, pinching them and rubbing them. You stick one finger back into your pussy, slowly shoving it as deeply as you can get it, then removing it and putting it to your mouth. You open up and stick the entire finger inside, slowly drawing it out as you suck all the juices off of it. Your smile tells me how good it tastes, and I whimper in jealousy.

You can't resist for too long, as you bend over and place your tit at my mouth. Like a hungry infant I attach onto it, sucking your sweet nectar off and savaging your nipple. You enjoy it, but don't leave it for too long. You pull back, though I refuse to let go, and you enjoy it as your nipple stretches and finally pops out. You grab your breasts and heft them in your hands, remarking about how good they are. I eagerly agree. But there's something even better than them.

You crawl forward, placing your knees on either side of my head, and position your heavenly pussy above my face. I inhale deeply, being able to smell nothing but that scent I know and love so well. You reach down with your hands and pull your lips apart, allowing me to gaze deep into your recesses, and also see that wonderful little nub of yours. Keeping yourself spread wide open, you lower your hips down onto my eagerly awaiting mouth, tongue already outstretched hoping for a taste. 

You give it all to me and more, ramming your pussy onto my face, engulfing me in your heaven. My tongue explores you, my nose grinds against your clit. You writhe and wiggle in ecstasy, riding my face like you did my cock, and ensuring that I get all the right spots. Your hands, though I can't see them, are holding your breasts, earnestly toying with your nipples and making you all the more excited. Your moans become wordless expressions of animal lust, and finally you are overcome with delight. You collapse backward, your pussy on my chest, your back on my dick. 

As you come down from your high, you feel my hardness digging into you, and you decide you had better do something about it. You crawl off of me, smiling, and tell me that you're about to reward me for being so patient. You kiss each one of my nipples, sucking on them some, trace your fingertips from my lips down my chest, to my cock. You wrap your fingers around the base firmly, and start slowly jacking me off. 

Your hands twists around as it slides up and down, and you pay special attention to the underside at the base of the head. You come over the top, getting my precum on your hands, and use it to lubricate your hands. That plus what is left of your juices from you riding me makes your hands slide easily, and you keep up the pressure. As I moan and my hips start rocking more and more, you increase your speed until you are furiously pumping up and down. Finally you feel my body tense up, and with a loving glance at my face you quickly lower your mouth, engulfing my cock. 

The warm moist sensation makes me explode hard with cum, spurting strongly against the back of your throat. It comes again and again, and you have to keep swallowing to keep up. But you can't get all of it, and some leaks out the sides of your mouth. Once I am totally spent, you give my penis one last lingering kiss and bring your face up to mine. When I can open my eyes again I am looking into the love reflected in yours, and you lick your lips and get all the last of my cum into your mouth. With a quick swab you have some of your juices as well, and you lick your finger to combine the two before kissing me. We share the taste of our combined juices in a long, slow, loving kiss as you reach up to untie my arms, and then my legs so we can rest together.