PleasureTorture

Transcription from the audio tease 'Test Subject' Test Subject

You are going to strip naked. You are going to lie down on that bed, on your back, your arms and legs spread wide, imagining them tied in that position. For now, you are our test subject, ours to tease and torment until you are crying and screaming in need. Your body is our experiment.

As you lie back and imagine being strapped down on that table, feeling us around you, before the darkness of the blindfold covers your eyes, you look up and see the machines above you, all registering every single sensation coursing through you. Registering the signals your body gives us to let us know that you’re right on the edge. There’s no escape.

Now let your fingertips just glide down your cleavage, along your stomach, just stroke up and down as you feel our fingertips gently explore the curves of your body.

The silky softness of that tight little piece of fabric made her hunger for the touches against her sensuous mound; never in her most erotic dreams could she imagine that those panties would embody something which hungered for her just as much.

From the moment she put them on, she longed to caress her sex. The cool silk seemed to enhance every sensation. After mere seconds it seemed as if every nerve ending in her body had focused its attention on just that one space between her legs. The deep longing grew and grew until simply the slippery stroke of a fingertip was not nearly enough. She had felt the joy of being teased plenty of times before, yet this longing was unlike anything else – as if every passing second added an hour’s worth of tantalisation.

She removed the lingerie hastily, unaware that its spell had long been cast upon her body the moment they were worn, the moment they encased her sensitive womanhood.

Completely naked and exposed, she still felt the familiar sensation of the cool, soft silkiness clinging to her sex, though all her attention was on the uncontrollable longing which burned between her legs. Her fingers magnetised towards it, yet instead of the fulfilling comfort of masturbation, they were stopped. As if they were being held back, she could not push her hands any further down. No matter how much she tried to slide her fingers down to quench the fire raging within her sex, she was left held so cruelly close. While the unendurable longing did not seem to die down, her pussy seemed to be throbbing with more need with each second.

The tingling seemed to increase to a burning need, until moments later it was like she was trapped in the vice of an impending orgasm that wouldn’t come. Still, her pussy was inexplicably out of reach. Suddenly her arms were pulled back and came to rest above her head, pinned in place as if they were being held tightly. Just as fast, her pussy was embraced by sensations she could not explain or comprehend. Even while her pussy was bare, she could feel the familiar sensation of the silky material embracing her. This sensation seemed to combine with the stimulation of being touched by the softest of fingertips, of being licked by the most precise tongue, of being nibbled by the most eager mouth.

She thought her engorged mound would explode with need as repeatedly she was brought so close to orgasm and held there before it backed off just enough to leave her hips thrusting for more. She wanted to touch herself, to touch anywhere, just to feel the soft curves of her heat-stricken body. Still, she remained held in place, tormented to a state of craving that she had never thought possible. The constant writhing of her hips did nothing to increase the formless yet ever-present and unyielding manipulations of her soft, delicate mound.

Finally, when she thought her consciousness could not stand any more of that tantalising torture, it happened. Her pussy felt like it had suddenly been devoured with pure stimulation, as if her entire sex were being sucked. Every tiny detail and sensitivity of that swollen mound seemed to be being latched onto by the air itself. After so much time spent in the hell of denial, the sudden avalanche of suction was a heaven of orgasmic bliss. Her orgasm seemed to never end – she didn’t want it to. All she cared about was the unparalleled pleasure that confined her to the bed. Wave after wave of orgasm was sucked from her. The mixture of such long denial and the longing brought about by the lingerie kept fuelling the orgasmic fire. As if reading her mind, the sucking stopped, ceasing just as the almost painfully intense orgasms started to cross the line of being unbearable.

Once she was able to move her arms, she knew it was over. All was still and quiet in the room. Finally able to catch her breath, as if her lungs were also finally her own now, she simply lay there motionless, recovering from the fiercest orgasms she had ever experienced.

Naked, defenceless, teased to a frenzy… succumb to the sweet surrender.

At first, you’ll take it. You’ll relent to the desire erupting from your sex right now. Every trail of thought had led to this moment, your hips rising as you are carried off into a wave of intoxicating bliss. Overcome by pleasure as if being lost in a dream.

Suddenly you will be ripped back into the world once more, his world, when you feel that burning sensitivity quiver beneath his tongue, within his mouth. Your body tries to fight it, to repel the addictive, cascading torture being heaped upon it, but your mind knows it is useless; you are his. The shackles deny you the mildest chance to protect your throbbing pussy. The torment you feel now is nothing compared to the knowledge that you are helpless, defenceless to stop the unrelenting feast of your epicentre for as long as your consciousness can withstand. 

You give in to the torrent of pleasure that floods through you; you are nothing more than his orgasm doll. Every twitch, every shudder, every convulsion of pleasure drives you deeper into the realms of wonderful agony that you are buried in.

You won’t break the cuffs. You won’t crawl away. You won’t be given a rest.

Alone With Your Desires

Centre of Attention

An audio tease for females featuring edging, orgasm denial and multiple forced orgasms.

She hadn’t expected to be so desperate so soon. She hadn’t expected every ounce of her being to have been reduced to a single moment, a single morsel of her body clinging to a prayer for release.

She had spent the entire day being teased and tormented, kept on the brink without any hope for orgasmic release. That’s what made it worse… hope. The hope that in the evening, there would be a chance for release. A hope that all of the begging and pleading would amount to some small display of mercy. Even during the evening before the new session began, thinking back on the earlier events had ensured that the relief of an orgasm populated her mind.

The thoughts of being edged by that cruel tongue while the restraints held her helplessly in place were replaced by thoughts of how it would feel to climax in that state of utter submission. Feeling those hands running so delicately up and down her body, as if savouring every inch of her, kept her wanting to be trapped in that state. Trapped with that mouth and those fingers devastating her endlessly.

She hadn’t counted on the restraints being tighter, on the fingertips and brushes feeling even softer, on that relentless tongue exploring even more attentively.

Being made to writhe and grind against every touch and every motion, the realisation begins… that there isn’t any relief in sight. Knowing she’s going to be watched, to be seen at her most intimate, most primal state of need, and knowing that the viewers want to see her suffer as much as possible. She shivers, knowing how much joy you take in seeing her cry out in frustration, knowing that if you have your way, she’ll be denied for days and days.

What makes it so much worse, and so utterly arousing, is that she knows that you know exactly how it feels.

You know how deep that need resides, how much it consumes you and threatens to burst forth at any second. You know how much the flame of need burns, how it turns into an inferno. How unbearable it is, and how you couldn’t withstand it. So, instead, you watch her torment and take pleasure in every second of cruelty. You can at least have your release while you watch.

She squirms and shivers, knowing that you can watch her be denied while you can give yourself the ecstasy and release that she yearns for. If only those fingertips would show just a little mercy.

You can make her suffer more.

She knows many more will soon see the torment and the denial. Yet, there’s so much that she needs to endure. It arouses her unbearably knowing so many can see her desperation. With every deliberate touch, with every moment of denial, her need grows.

https://subscribestar.adult/pleasuretorture

Dearest gentle reader,

While this writer has found Patreon to have been dismantled, all hope is not lost for those who wish to show their support for the content.

The following is the chapter I posted on Patreon, which was the final strike in getting my Patreon account deleted for violating their adult content policies.

I will attempt to recreate the Patreon page, now that I know the best way to avoid such issues in future. In the meantime, I will be setting up an alternative to Patreon, which may be far more flexible.

I still have the Ko-Fi account for anyone who wishes to get a digital copy of The Marks of Eros outside of Amazon (as well as to purchase the premium video content, ‘Deliberation’).

Book 1 of The Marks of Eros can be purchased in Hardback, Paperback and Ebook here: The Marks of Eros

But without further ado, here is the chapter that brought down my Patreon. In a world where pain no longer exists, pleasure is used as both reward AND punishment. Here, we are introduced to a strange new presence in Eros…

It was the perfect opportunity, secluded in the holiday resort with the object of their desires. She had given them more than one hint that she was curious.

She had, however, not quite expected them to restrain her once she woke. Even though sleeping naked made it clear she was welcoming it, the feeling of being helpless was quite intense, particularly with knowing that they had been yearning for the opportunity to show her the joys women could give for a very long time. There was no teasing, no gentle introduction. They simply pounced on her at this opportunity and had their way with her, their intentions quite clear – to make her come harder than ever before.

The feeling of those slender fingers exploring her, caressing her swollen jewel, made her shake in anticipation, feeling as if they knew her body better than any previous lover ever could. 

‘One orgasm this Christmas. I will return every Christmas with one extra orgasm each time. All you need do is lie back and close your eyes, just the same.’

You remembered the words. You didn’t need to be reminded, as they’d swum in your mind for the last twelve months. You hadn’t spent a single night not thinking about the way she was teased and seduced to the most intense climax of her life last Christmas.

As before, a note under the tree reminded her of the command: ‘Remember, keep your eyes closed.’ 

You masturbated so intensely for many nights since last Christmas, yet nothing could match the sensations that had been unleashed upon you last time. You hadn’t uttered a word to anyone else about it; this was your little gift and yours alone.

Finally, Christmas had arrived. As soon as you lie back against the mattress and close your eyes, it begins instantly.

Instead of feeling the cool fabric of the mattress against your back, you are welcomed by what feels like the warmth of a man against your back. Lying back against him, you try hard not to open your eyes, wondering if you’d see anything at all. But you don’t dare open them, knowing it would all stop the moment you did so.

The hands press to your wrists, keeping your arms pinned to your sides and slightly behind you as you remain leaning back in the warm embrace of his body. It makes you gasp suddenly to feel hands drift along your front, as if he were caressing you, his arms wrapped around you. Unlike last year, where you imagined multiple people surrounding you, this time you picture more than one set of arms extending from his torso to restrain you and caress you at once.

Those fingertips trail up and down your sides so slowly, purposely avoiding your nipples and between your legs. Instead, they outline the curves of your chest, your waist, your thighs, and your shoulders, easing you gently into this slow rhythm of ecstasy. You wish he’d kiss or nibble your neck, maybe whisper something to you, or even touch you more intimately. Those fingertips continue easing down those same paths until you begin arching your back against him.

Suddenly, he stops, letting your wrists go at the same time. Because he doesn’t touch you anymore, you take this as your cue to touch yourself. At first, you press your hands to your chest, giving them the firm squeeze you had hoped for. Instantly, he pulls your hands back away and holds them again behind you, returning to touching you in just the same way as before.

Those fingertips seem to paint the most detailed portrait of your body with every touch, outlining every inch without ever adding the finishing touch of pressing directly where you need it most. As soft as skin could touch, those fingers continue to ease around you without any sign that you’ll receive more intimate attention.

The anticipation of how intense it felt last year, coupled with the slow teasing around your breasts and down your body so deliberately, ensures that your body is already burning with need.

Once again, your hands are released. This time, you touch yourself in the same way, easing up and down and around your body to tantalise every inch of skin without giving in to your deepest urges.

Minutes pass, simply caressing yourself in the same way that you do to yourself at night when you want to see how long you can tease yourself. However, you’d have given in long before now when you were this turned on. Finally, the pair of hands joins in, also caressing your arms and shoulders, your upper back and sides.

You feel that deep, gushing heat between your legs start to take over. You need to feel more. As soon as you just sweep your thumbs over your pussy lips, the hands once again pull yours away to hold you in place.

You give a deep groan of frustration, uttering the word ‘please,’ as the hands return to continuing to tease you. You’ve never been more aware of how stiff your nipples are, how alight with sensation your pussy feels, the tingle of need between your legs turned to a swarm of longing.

Once your hands are released again, you know that you must obey, otherwise you’ll be screaming with need soon if this carries on. You follow his motions, gently gliding every fingertip against yourself in the softest manner, only barely touching, soft enough to nearly tickle, yet devastating every part of you with absolute longing.

Finally, giving you just a little of what you need, the hands start focusing a little closer to where you yearn to be touched. They circle around your nipples and ease along your pussy lips.

Shaking in need, your trembling fingertips follow in their wake, fearing your hands will be snatched away once again. Thankfully, you are allowed to replicate their touches. As much as it tortures you to caress so closely to where you are desperately in need of attention, it’s still wondrous to touch yourself like this at last, knowing mercy will soon enough be granted.

You’d spent months dreaming of this, having your erotic lover lavish you with touches and kisses along your body, fantasising about his mouth wreaking havoc on your hot, swollen, dripping wet pussy. Perhaps if you recalled more about how much you were teased and tormented last year, you’d have understood that you’d not get quite what you wanted. It was clear that this entity of lust would ensure the utmost cruelty was granted. The realisation once again made you shiver in arousal.

Once you finally start to beg for him to touch you, you feel your wrist being held, guiding your fingertips down your cleavage, slowly down your body and over your pussy directly. It takes everything in you not to simply finger yourself, rapidly, to relieve the pent-up need that threatens to burst. You simply follow the same gentle strokes, masturbating yourself slowly while he continues to glide his hands all over you.

Several other hands join in, sliding up your ankles, along your legs and over your waist while you still feel him press warmly against your back. You fight the urge to open your eyes, wanting to ensure this never ends. The constant attention to every part of your body while you stroke yourself quickly has you boiling over to the edge of orgasm.

Just as you hit the pinnacle, your hand is pulled away. Your murmur of frustration is overtaken by a little moan of pleasure as his fingertips circle over the tips of your nipples. Before you can even start to rock your hips to signal the need for more, your hand is released, allowing you to work yourself to the brink once again.

As if reading your mind, the moment you are about to plead to be allowed to come, his hand presses to your mouth, muffling your words to merely a whimper of desperation. This simple action ignites something within you, delving into a deep fantasy that urges you to stroke yourself faster, relishing in something within being brought so effortlessly to the surface.

Once again, just as you get to the edge, your hand is pulled away.

Time and again, you are allowed to bring yourself to the edge this way, stroking yourself until your hand is pulled away. Every time you are about to cry out and beg for mercy, your mouth gets covered, muffling your whimpers and ensuring your body burns with excitement.

Something about edging yourself in this way makes it so much harder to handle. Forced to torment yourself by your own hand is a cruelty you could never have prepared for, no matter how much you tried throughout the year.

You just wonder to yourself for a moment what you’d see if you could open your eyes without it all ending, wondering if you’d see multiple hands caressing your body, or if they would be invisible, or even if they’d be attached to multiple people lifted right from your fantasies. The thoughts are quickly replaced with the focus on the man you are leaning against, as his mouth presses right against the side of your neck.

You hit the brink instantly while his warm mouth kisses along your neck and along your shoulder. This time, he doesn’t force you to stop.

You explode. Your orgasm cuts through you as your scream pierces through the hand that suddenly clasps your mouth. This action, this little display of dominance over you, seems to make you come even harder. Your hips rise off the mattress a little, your pleasure unleashed while your body longs for more of what it was deprived of for so long.

As you start to slow down a little, your rear sinking into the mattress while you push your back against this mystical lover, his hand grasps your own to continue at the same pace. He ensures that you continue masturbating at the same speed, riding out your orgasm beyond what you could do to yourself, verging on being too intense, yet overwhelmingly erotic.

It doesn’t stop, even long after you need it to. All of the other hands keep you held in place; your other hand once again gripped and pulled behind you.

Just as you are about to plead for it to stop, to at least give your sensitive clitoris a rest, a pair of fingers slides into you. You gasp as it feels like it knows exactly where to touch you deeply to make you squeal in ecstasy.

As your pussy contracts longingly around those wonderful fingers, your hand and your lover’s from behind work your clitoris in unison while you shake your head, trying to signal that it’s too intense.

Feeling mouths caress either side of your neck and along your shoulders, just as a hand once again clasps over your mouth, sends you crashing into the reality that another orgasm is building within you. You want to scream, your entire body wants to scream out in a storm of blissful release, yet the hands pinning you in place and the one covering your mouth all seem to trap you within yourself. It’s like it is causing the ecstasy to well up within, a stopper trapping your climax as more pleasure bubbles up.

Suddenly, knowing you were right on the cusp, the hand at your mouth moves away, letting you fully cry out as your orgasm bursts forth. The fingers inside you remain motionless while your pussy trembles around them, seeming to squeeze every ounce of ecstasy and friction from those intruding digits. Thankfully, the hand coaxing your fingers to stroke your tender clit begins to slow down.

Somehow, the second orgasm felt even more intense than the first. It didn’t seem to last as long, yet it left you breathless. As you come down from the plateau, the hands all around you seem to stay pressed against you. The man behind you remains motionless, letting you breathe deeply and relax into his embrace.

A fingertip gently and unexpectedly grazing over your hypersensitive clitoris shocks you, making you open your eyes. Suddenly, it’s just you alone on your bed, now able to reach down and press your hand to your overly sensitive sex.

As you ponder whether you’d be able to work yourself to another orgasm before the night is out, being so filled with arousal and fantasies, you notice the note beside you.

Every cloud has a silver lining. After a missed flight on Christmas Eve, she seeks comfort in a new friend and has some holiday frolics that she’ll never forget.

An erotic story with a dash of Christmas magic.

Whether fending off Succubi, solving the riddles of an Enchantress before being overcome by orgasm, or escaping the nightmares of a tease and denial-fuelled Dream Weaver, there is much to explore…

An excerpt taken from The Marks of Eros, out November 21st. A peek into the lands of Eros, fraught with the dangers of being teased, tormented and tortured in the most erotic ways by all manner of devious entities.

The melodious chirping of birds spilt from the canopy of the woods. The Southern Edoria Woods hummed with the gentle rustle of leaves and branches; twigs cracked beneath the movement of squirrels and other small creatures. Yet, in an instant, all sound seemed to become muted as Emma stumbled upon a sight that made her gasp. It was as if the woods held its breath as she looked at the figures standing in a clearing before her.

A succession of humanoid figures stood motionless, at least ten of them, all facing Emma’s direction. Their bare bodies and faces were featureless, resembling a near-reflective surface that made them appear to be entirely made of glass. They looked surreal. It was as if they had stepped from another world into this place.

A horde of Ruiners.

Emma stood frozen to the spot. She had no idea where her partner, Lance, was waiting, only that he had asked her to meet him here. All she knew was that she needed to run, yet her legs didn’t seem to obey her will.

Their bodies, each the exact same height and build, glowed with the reflection of sunlight and foliage. All at once, the turquoise of Emma’s dress seemed to shine on the bodies and faces of every Ruiner. Emma felt almost hypnotised; thoughts of what they were going to do to her flashed through her mind. Erotic scenes of being passed around by the featureless entities, being penetrated and fingerfucked while she thrashed and writhed, clouded her mind. In that time, the figures had slowly moved a little closer. She hadn’t even noticed them take a step, yet they were undoubtedly nearer.

Whether it was the sexually hypnotic effect of their presence or Emma succumbing to her own fantasies, she wasn’t sure. However, the crack of a twig as one of the Ruiners stepped forwards, followed by a flurry of birds taking flight, snapped Emma out of her daze.

She turned and sprinted away as fast as possible. She could sense the Ruiners tailing her. They were fast, though she knew that they wouldn’t pursue her further if she could just make it out of the woods and back into the safety of the grassland skirting Edoria.

Suddenly, a hand grasped her ankle. One of the Ruiners had leapt for her. It couldn’t take hold, yet it was enough to knock her off balance. She hit the ground and rolled, facing upwards, just in time to see another Ruiner airborne coming straight down for her. While they looked human in build, they could sprint and leap like hares.

Instinctively, Emma pulled a dagger from the beltline of her dress and slashed at the descending Ruiner. The dagger caught it mid-air, knocking it aside. It landed and rose as she did, but she was ready.

While Emma had never been inclined to pursue a life as an Expeditioner, as many with natural combat instincts often did, she was still capable. With a swift movement, she hurled a small incendiary device. It burst on impact with the Ruiner just a few feet away.

It stumbled back a few paces, but to Emma’s shock, it regained its stance and looked entirely unharmed.

While she was fully aware of the dangers of even a single Ruiner, she was surprised by their speed and their durability; she had blasted down brick walls with far less than what she’d just hit that one with.

More Ruiners burst through the underbrush as she turned and bolted, though she barely made it several meters before feeling their hands grip her shoulders and push her to the ground. She was caught.

The horde dived towards her one after the other. The first one to have apprehended her swung her around so that it was behind her on the ground while she lay facing upwards. The Ruiner acted as a living bed, Emma’s back pressed against its chest as she struggled uselessly to pull her outstretched arms free from its grip on her wrists.

The others began caressing her body, gliding their fingers beneath her dress to massage her legs and thighs while pinning her ankles down as she tried to kick at them.

While their reflective bodies made them appear as if their touch would be cold, instead, they were wonderfully warm, generating a light electric sizzle wherever they touched, a means to arouse their victims further. The intoxicating arousal coursing through her meant that she did indeed need relief. However, she knew that with these beings, that would be the last thing she’d receive unless she could get away.

Others massaged her arms and teased along her cleavage, playing around the exposed areas of her chest that were pressing against the dress, straining against her heaving breasts in her outstretched position.

Emma screamed out, hoping there might be someone close by. As one of the Ruiners placed its hand over her mouth to stifle her calls, Emma noticed some of the others slightly adapting their forms. The mostly featureless creatures were a mix of male and female-shaped bodies, though the feminine ones quickly morphed into fully masculine frames. They were all now attuned to Emma’s sexual preferences.

She gasped and gave another fruitless jerk of resilience as they easily tore away her dress. Her light peach, lacy lingerie became the focal point of countless fingers. Tracing along the hem of her bra and panties, they ensured that Emma was constantly aware of those concealed areas by the lack of stimulation compared to every other inch of her body. They even pulled her lingerie tight against her skin to brush their fingers as closely to her pussy lips as possible.

In no time at all, they had removed her bra, though they continued to avoid touching her chest directly. As they touched and caressed her all over, she could see the reflection of herself at times in their bodies and slightly curved faces. They were like living mirrors, casting her near-naked reflection back at her.

It was unnerving having them all looking directly at her. Ruiners possessed no eyes, yet they seemed to focus so intently on her that it was as if they could see into her very soul. She almost wished that they did have eyes, something that she could look into and plead with, some kind of common ground to give the illusion of humanity, the slightest glimmer of mercy. Similarly, they had no mouths, so her own stifled screams and whimpers were the only sounds to be heard. A solitary fingertip trailing down her throat, cleavage, stomach and down to her mound coaxed further moans from Emma.

The fingertip stopped just above her mound, right at the hem of the fabric concealing her intimacy. It moved back up and down so slowly that it kept her mind’s eye on it even while she was massaged all over. Once it finally moved further down, over the material and along her plump curve, she raised her hips to meet its touch.

Instead of a firm touch, the brushing fingertip became a literal brushstroke; every fingertip touching her became like soft bristles. They focused their attention on her chest and inner thighs, all sweeping their fingers up and down as if wielding five paintbrushes on every hand. She loved the softest touches when masturbating and loved using her makeup brush to sweep over her nipples and clitoris. This was driving her mad with arousal, and they knew it.

The fingers swished up and down along the deepest recesses of her inner thighs, up along the sides of her labia, the fine hairs they had formulated brushing her skin softly and sensually. She watched herself in their reflections, arching her chest towards the many fingers sweeping over it, brushing in circles over her nipples and down her body.

The Ruiners ensured that the touches were light enough to set her body alight with a need for more, but not so soft as to tickle her.

Ruiners like to play with their food for a long, long time. After thirty minutes of having brushstrokes lick at every inch, her nipples were stiff while her lingerie seemed to cling to her body like a second skin, soaked with her arousal. The Ruiners had pulled the lingerie as tightly up as possible to ensure her pussy lips were exposed enough to be teased with their fingers directly.

Emma sighed in relief as the last remnant of her lingerie was torn off, exposing her entirely to the horde of Ruiners. While she knew what was coming and dreaded it, she still couldn’t deny the longing within her that they had stirred. Her following attempt to scream out against the hand over her mouth was cut short by the paintbrushes sweeping back and forth over her nipples and clitoris at once.

With only a single digit being needed for each nipple and her clitoris, the rest of the Ruiners simply watched, motionless.

It was eerie being surrounded by tens of figures soundlessly watching her, the centre of the cruellest circle of voyeurs. Yet, she couldn’t stop looking back at herself in their reflective faces and bodies, seeing her most sensitive spots being gently brushed. The vision was so close and detailed, as if they were broadcasting specifically for her. She was certain they were doing this on purpose, as occasionally, the fingers would move away for a few seconds, allowing an unobstructed view of her nipples and clitoris up close. In one of their faces, peering closely between her legs, she could see her clitoris magnified entirely so that she was able to witness it twitching in striking detail. It made her entire body convulse in arousal to see.

Repeatedly, the brushstrokes gained speed over her clitoris, every little swipe pushing back against her clitoral hood and over her bulbous, ripe cherry. When she was close, they knew it and stopped.

Many more of them leaned closer between her legs, while others pushed her head forwards to ensure she was watching as the touch stopped, to watch multiple angles of her clitoris twitch at the lack of friction once more.

They were doing this solely to torment her. They wanted her to watch the torment of her own body parts in the finest detail possible.

For a second, she was glad they couldn’t speak. They were already evil enough without being able to vocalise their intentions. As she thought this, suddenly, she let out a squeal as her clitoris felt a rush of sensation.

The Ruiner that was covering her mouth let go; they didn’t want her crying out for help, but they did want to bask in her pleasure. She panted and moaned as her clitoris was attacked so wonderfully.

The soft, minuscule bristles at the end of the Ruiner’s finger had moved autonomously. Less like a paintbrush and more like living cilia, the fine bristles each wrapped around her clitoris and embraced it tightly, squeezing and massaging the sensitive bead to leave her squealing in shock and delight.

Emma’s nipples received the same treatment. They also pushed her head forwards again, wanting her to watch as her most sensitive points were squeezed and tugged. She had never experienced anything like this before. As she rocked her hips, another Ruiner began sweeping its soft paintbrush-like fingertip over the tip of her clitoris, which was exposed and lassoed by the other.

She felt her moment speeding towards her and knew the Ruiners would be aware of it too. Through touch, Ruiners can sense the experiences of their prey; everything Emma felt, they could also feel

The rush of climax came upon her faster than she anticipated. She knew what was coming, though it didn’t make it any easier to handle.

Just as the first convulsion of orgasm hit her, the Ruiners manipulating her pleasure points stopped in unison, their hive mind at work, leaving Emma untouched save for the Ruiner she was lying on, holding her in place.

She thrashed and cried out in frustration, her orgasm like a forgotten memory lost to the calamity she was experiencing now. Her pussy convulsed as if trying to cope with the loss of sensation. She snapped her legs shut, trying to squeeze her thighs together and gain a little friction, though it was useless. Her orgasm was entirely ruined.

Ruiners pried her legs open while the distant echoes of her climax continued to surge through her body. She cried out, less as a means to call for help and more out of anguish. The Ruiners once again went for her clitoris and nipples, this time pinching her nipples with regularly formed fingers while a paintbrush-like fingertip again swept over her clitoris.

Her body seemed to be obeying their rule over hers. The sexual arousal caused by so many of them being around her meant that she wouldn’t have stood a chance even if she wasn’t so multi-orgasmic.

With only the paintbrush strokes being applied to her clitoris, it was a longer, softer ride towards her peak. Other Ruiners pressed against her mound, pushing back her clitoral hood to fully expose her tenderness to every delicate bristle.

While the teasing was slower, the reflections on their faces showed her clitoris as closely as possible and seemed to slow down the motions so that she could see every single bristle slip up and over her swollen nub. She could see it enlarged enough to be able to witness her own heartbeat twitching back in full view through her clitoris. They wanted to torment her visually as much as physically.

With just the soft motion of the bristles back and forth, it took a while before she felt the ripples of orgasm growing and growing.

Emma couldn’t stop her hips from writhing, wanting more stimulation. The soft touch from the bristles was only barely enough to keep her climbing, though the pinching and pulling against her nipples was welcome. The stimulation of her nipples in this way, while being groped by their firm, powerful hands, and the slow ordeal between her legs meant that she was heading towards a full-body orgasm.

The softness of the paintbrush-like fingertip was agonizingly slow in how it built her towards the climax. It was such a gentle sensation, sweeping up and down, gliding over her jewel as if time meant nothing.

As much as she wanted a firmer touch, the soft bristles, indifferent to her needs, worked her towards her moment. The delicacy of the stimulation dragged things out much longer than before, though it meant that the gradual rise would build to something even more powerful.

She wanted to hold it back, to prevent what was coming, knowing it would be cruelly torn away from her the moment she received it. Yet there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

As gentle as a butterfly’s wing grazing her clit, the paintbrush-like tip fluttered back and forth a little quicker. Emma let out a squeal as the orgasm rose to the surface. She hadn’t climaxed yet, though she wanted to milk as much enjoyment as she could from the current sensation; her entire body felt electrified.

The Ruiners were applying just enough pressure to her nipples while sensing the build-up from the teasing of her clitoris. They wanted to ensure this would be one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever experienced.

Emma was breathing deeply. The blend of slow, delicate stimulation, her helplessness, and knowing that she was the centre of all attention built towards a cataclysmic level of pleasure.

She began shaking before her muscles tensed, and she screamed out so much that one of the Ruiners covered her mouth again. It was a bomb of ecstasy exploding throughout her body without a clear source. Every inch seemed to pulsate as her eyes clamped shut. However, the stimulation stopped instantly once again.

She clenched her teeth and tried to curl up, though the Ruiners kept her arms and legs spread wide so that she had to ensure the full sensation of her orgasm being ruined, to feel every shock of unfulfillment.

All she could do was clench every muscle and grunt in frustration. The most intense orgasm she had ever felt was ripped from her possession and lost forever. She wanted to cry, but felt too empty to do anything other than yell out, “Please!”

As soon as they felt her orgasm wane entirely, the Ruiners quickly went back to work. This time, a firm fingertip pressed directly against her sensitive clitoris, stroking it left and right, though a little more to the left side, just as Emma herself masturbated. The Ruiners could always sense what their prey wanted most through touch and used it against them.

There was no deliberation this time. The Ruiners worked with speed, massaging her body while pinching her nipples hard. The speedy masturbation brought Emma to the brink quickly.

Breathing rapidly, Emma tried again to pull herself free, but they were too strong. She shut her eyes, ready for it.

It launched itself upon her; the orgasm seemed to clutch at her chest and drag her to the heavens for a split second before she was thrown into hell. Being held with her arms and legs spread wide ensured that every unfulfilled orgasmic contraction seemed to be even more devastating. She was being forced to focus more on every sensation. Every twitch and convulsion felt amplified.

The moment the ruined orgasm started to subside, the Ruiners began once again, not giving her a moment to collect herself. They again went for her clitoris, rubbing her in just the right way to bring her to the brink as fast as possible.

This time, she bucked and twisted as much as she possibly could, trying to defend herself from the onslaught, yet they held her down even more tightly to ensure constant sexual friction.

She threw her head back and cried out as the attention to her clitoris thrust another orgasm upon her. Instantly, the fingertip at her clit, the fingers pinching her nipples, and the hands groping her chest and caressing her body all let go, leaving only the Ruiners securing her arms and legs remaining in contact.

She knew better than to beg. She knew that the sexual anguish was their feast and that imploring them would be as much use as talking with the surrounding trees. She needed to fight it. Yet, this time, as the fingertip pressed to her clitoris and as she tried to steel herself against the pleasure, a finger suddenly slipped within her dripping wet entrance.

Her vaginal walls clung to it desperately, as if her body held onto this intruder as its salvation. The finger seemed to morph and elongate, moving in ways no human finger could, as if it were seeking out her most sensitive areas.

Emma tried desperately to think about anything other than the pleasure engulfing her, though the internal and external exploration ensured she never stood a chance.

Her hips rose, thrusting her mound towards the sky as if it were to be blessed by the joy of release. Instead, as the fingers within her pussy, on her clitoris and around her body sensed the first twinge of orgasmic convulsion, they all retreated together in one motion. Instead of rising towards ecstasy, her pelvis pushed up towards the air for a merciful touch, just a little more friction.

Once again, as the hellish emptiness and unfulfillment were barely over, the fingers returned. This time, a pair of fingers explored inside, her pussy clenching around them tightly in an effort to ensure they gave her more. The fingers seemed to form bulbous, textured tips as they pushed upwards, pressing firmly against her G-spot to rub back and forth.

Fingers against her clitoris and nipples did the same thing; the tiny bulbous protrusions seemed to move constantly, ensuring the most minuscule massage against the most sensitive points of her body.

Her eyes were wide with shock at the sensation. Seeing the Ruiners all looking right back at her, able to see her own reflection on their faces, made her feel so on display. The overwhelming sensations and the exposure of being put on display brought her instantly to the pinnacle.

She came hard enough to strain, not to escape, but just to gain some control over the implosion of pleasure that felt like it would break her. Their fingers left her alone, though their grip did not cease.

She yelled out, writhing.

“No, no, no, no, no.”

The Ruiners merely watched silently. Her pussy, as well as what felt like every muscle in her body, convulsed desperately for something more.

The pattern repeated itself again and again, fingerfucked and stroked intensely for a short duration until she came, all for it to instantly stop.

The barrage of ruined orgasms was too much to handle. Unable to control herself, even though knowing it was useless, she broke down and began begging them.

“Please…. Please…PLEASE. Fuck fuck… Please fucking stop. Fuck… Don’t ruin it again… no. No. Arrgggggghhhhh FUUUUUCK. Please don’t do this to me. PLEEEEASE.”

There was no change in their manner at all. One would think they couldn’t hear at all.

But they could hear everything. They delighted in it, making the feast all the better, feeding on every ruined orgasm and squeal of despair.

“No more, no more, no more. Pleeeeeeease. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, no more!!! Stop it! Sto-’’

With her eyes shut tight, wailing to the sky, she hadn’t noticed a Ruiner kneeling before her, having grown a long, rigid length between its legs. Suddenly, it thrust inside her. Her breath caught in her lungs as the joyful penetration made her look down.

It thrust fully into her and stayed still. With no blood supply fuelling it, it remained entirely motionless inside, like a hot glass dildo pressed within.

The Ruiner simply peered at her like the rest, who weren’t even caressing her body this time. They all knelt around her, watching.

She rocked her hips up and down, slamming against the penetrating length, hoping that it might stay in place. Her entire existence right now seemed to be in search of experiencing just one full orgasm.

The cock inside her seemed to adjust itself perfectly, matching every nuance of what felt best, until it became the ideal manhood, one she was now eagerly fucking herself with.

She had stopped begging and screaming, determination fuelling her as her hips continued to slam forwards and back.

Just as she was right there, her pussy tightening and loosening in convulsions around the shaft, the Ruiner suddenly pulled its hips backwards, its cock popping out of her.

Her pussy seemed to open and close in convulsions as if clenching for something more and not understanding why everything had suddenly stopped. Nothing could be crueller than a ruined orgasm. To experience it countless times without rest made Emma weep.

Tears flooded her cheeks as she bawled in absolute frustration.

“Please… l-l-let me… fuck… mercy. Mercy!”

Once again, the phallus pushed at her gates and entered; this time, the Ruiner gripped her hips and took charge to pump inside. Ridges had formed all along the top of the length, ensuring that her G-spot was constantly being stimulated as well through the motion. It was heaven and hell all at once, and again, just as her body was forced to come, it pulled out of her to ruin the moment.

She needed it to stop and would have preferred never to come again if it meant she wouldn’t have to endure this any more.

After numerous ruined orgasms caused by the Ruiner’s cock, after continuing to cry in utter hopelessness and agonising frustration, as the horrifying aftershocks of an unfulfilled orgasm gnawed at her, she was released.

The moment the Ruiners’ hands let go, she curled up as if trying to protect her body from the constant convulsions. She wanted nothing more than to start masturbating, though while still surrounded, she couldn’t risk spending another second with them.

She quickly got up, breathing heavily and shocked to see them simply looking at her, letting her get away.

She bolted off; her will was overcoming the shakiness through her body, dashing towards the nearest tree line without a care in the world about whether it was the right direction. She simply had to get away from them. If she didn’t, she knew she’d succumb to them, forced to endure the torment until she no longer had the strength to run. Her body and mind would give way entirely, drifting off into eternal unconsciousness.

She couldn’t hear them following her, so she sprinted towards the trees in sight. She’d soon be free.

Suddenly, she noticed a strange glimmer in front of the trees and hedges she was heading towards. She stopped in her tracks before them, realising to her horror why it looked like a mirage. A line of Ruiners was blocking her way, their reflective bodies simply setting a trap.

“NO!” Emma breathed out, the word tumbling from her lips.

Utterly defeated and deflated, she remained in place, knowing there was nowhere to run.

Swiftly, she pressed her fingers between her legs and began stroking her clit rapidly, hoping she could give herself at least one orgasm before her torture began anew.

A Ruiner from behind had crept up on her. As it yanked her arms back before she could reach the pinnacle, another Ruiner pressed its hand to her mouth to smother her frantic screams for help.

They had been toying with her, giving her hope of escape and snatching it away just as they had snatched away her orgasms, just as they would soon snatch away more of them…

This chapter focuses on male denial in front of an audience.

Under the sun’s spotlight on a balmy evening, the audience cheered after every groan of desperate need.

The prisoner, Lance, was securely strapped to an inversion table draped in red silk, which stood upright. The silk bindings were meticulously tied around his ankles, thighs, waist, wrists – pinned at his sides – and upper body, ensuring he could not move at all.

Multiple near-naked dancers were weaving in and out of one another in a synchronised display of eroticism around him. Some of the men were fully naked, their erect lengths receiving glancing touches from the passing female dancers, who were all clad in beautiful, intricately crafted red lingerie. The dancers’ lithe, oil-coated bodies rippled in the light, shining as they glided around the stage. Fire and light burst from around the platform to further hypnotise the audience.

Drummers around the stage kept a pulsing beat that throbbed throughout the amphitheatre, almost keeping in beat with the throbbing focal point at the centre of the stage.  Lance’s erect length was constantly having Succubus oil drizzled over it by the passing dancers, ensuring it twitched with yearning.

The sensual, writhing bodies of the dancers intertwining with one another made the prisoner want to reach out and touch the display, though all he could do was watch on helplessly. Along with the audience in the packed, heaving theatre, he was forced to solely fantasise about taking part in the erotic dance. As the drumbeat continued, the women swayed and gyrated. Watching their sinuous bodies moving in this way made Lance strain uselessly against his bondage.

The dancers drew applause from the audience as they burst into a perfectly choreographed routine, their athleticism and grace in full display. Even throughout the most dazzling moments, with some dramatic, high-flying sequences, twirls and leaps, with dancers being lifted and flung into the air, there was still great intimacy on display. There was a sizzling chemistry with every catch and moment of close contact between the dancers.

An enormous burst of blue flames shot up from the stage like a hazy blue curtain. Ichi stood at the forefront of the audience, controlling every pyrotechnic display and watching the stage show like a director examining his work. While most of the audience watched in awe of this magical display, only those in attendance who were versed in magic use – such as the Royal Expeditioners, Warriors, and a small portion of the general population – knew how difficult this level of control was.

With a barely noticeable wave of his hand, the flames lowered to be replaced with numerous red, dancing swirls of fireballs. Visible once again, the performers were all naked and paired up. The men stood upright, holding the women upside down by the waist, the women’s knees resting on the men’s shoulders. In this standing 69 position, the couples used their tongues gently to tease their partners slowly.

Two women on the stage were kneeling in front of the prisoner. Both simply kissed along his inner waist and thighs, so close to his throbbing hard cock but never giving the firm contact he was begging for. His constant cries of “Please!” were occasionally only met with another little drizzle of Succubus oil applied to his shaft. With a succession of twitches and a yell of frustration, the women returned to simply licking so close to that tortured member.

Every few minutes, the pair of women would allow their tongues to get close to the base of his cock, or even lick just a little against his balls, hanging so round and taut, making Lance shout to the sky for mercy.

The torment of the prisoner’s manhood, the male performers’ cocks bouncing to the soft attention of teasing mouths, the smooth, firm rears of the female performers swaying uncontrollably in the air, and the dancing flames – all created a bountiful feast for the eyes of the audience.

In unison, the women’s mouths all began cradling the men’s tips. The act signalled for the men to pull the women’s hips closer so that they could press their mouths tightly to their sensitivities.

Lance continued to look on. While he wanted to shut his eyes and shield himself from the taunting display, he couldn’t help but be entranced by the exhibition before him, those rigid lengths being sucked exactly how he so desperately needed. He wanted to be one of those men, holding the beautiful figure upside down, feeling her thighs around his head and her softness against his lips. Yet, he was trapped no matter how frantically he tried to escape. He wanted to thrust his hips forward as the women’s mouths taunted his own cock head, yet the silk bondage held him tightly, and he was unable to do so. He was forced to watch as their lips puckered and tongues licked the air just a fraction away, denying him the same actions that he could see around him.

The audience cheered as the two women continued to giggle and tease him; some jeered at him and urged the women on further.

“Look at how much he’s twitching! He needs it so badly.”

“Go on! Go on! Try and come without it even being touched.”

“That’s it! Don’t touch him! Make him scream for it!”

The display continued for some time. The drumbeat seemed to work in tandem with the motion of the women’s bobbing heads as they sucked against the lengths before them. Even amongst the crowd, the steadily quickening rhythmic pounding and the stifled moans of the performers, Lance’s pleas for mercy were heard clearly.

As the beat quickened, so too did the work of the performers until one of the women threw her head back; the swish of her hair preceded a high-pitched, orgasmic moan. While it stirred a guttural moan of despair from Lance, there was little time to revel in it as Ichi instantly stood and waved his hands in the air theatrically. A wall of mesmerising flame surrounded the stage. Barely a few seconds passed until it lowered, and the previous performers were gone as if they had vanished into thin air. A few new women were now on stage, surrounding the prisoner. These women were all wearing sensual floral red lingerie.

The seductive display alone would have kept Lance throbbing with frustration. Having them all massaging his body felt too cruel. The crowd enjoyed the sensual display, watching the women glide their palms over every inch of his restrained body. His tightened muscles glistened from the oil as he strained desperately, the women caressing him sensually while fingertips brushed along his inner thighs. He begged for more as they took turns gliding their palms down his chest, along his sternum and stomach, along his waist and down his legs, finally circling around his pelvis.

“Forgive me! Mercy!” pleaded Lance as the women caressed his balls, ensuring his achingly stiff shaft strained in wretched need for the same attention. His balls were so tight, considering he hadn’t even felt any true stimulation to his manhood yet.

Occasionally the women would taunt him further by feigning sucking him, letting their mouths trail very close to his tip before backing off. It caused the crowd to cheer and whistle.

Suddenly, another curtain of flame rose and dropped, leaving the stage empty except for the prisoner restrained at the centre.

Ichi stepped closer to the stage. Even with the prisoner trying with all of his might to move, his cock dancing in need from the constant desire coursing through it due to the Succubus oil, the audience’s attention was solely on Ichi.

It wasn’t just his height; Ichi’s sense of power ensured that the audience was magnetised to him. Silence fell upon the crowd as he turned to face them. Everyone, from the general public in attendance to various members of royalty, expeditioners and professional athletes in the front rows, waited silently as Ichi’s silence built the anticipation. They had no idea what to expect, what spell or creature may be waiting for the prisoner.

Even Lance dared not utter a word as Ichi finally addressed the crowd.

“In the safe embrace of Edoria, we punish those who would dare endanger any of its inhabitants, neighbours, and allies. To allow any injury to befall one of our own, would we be any better than the Vaunt Empire?”

A chorus of boos rang out throughout the enormous audience.

“Any who dares attempt to harm someone from our kingdom must suffer the ultimate punishment. Who among you wishes to witness the justice of our realm?”

Cheers echoed throughout the arena as Ichi continued, his deep voice booming over the crowd.

“For the heinous act of fiendfell, the realm sentences you to La Petite Mort. With which, we cast the guilty to the heavens.”

After cheers and applause, the audience began to fall silent, unsure of what was to come. The only pair of eyes that was not focused on Ichi was Emma. Her fierce, piercing gaze was solely on Lance and his anguish. Like the audience, Lance was unaware of what was to come and also held some small hope that he might be able to escape with his life.

Ichi basked in the silence for a few seconds, letting the tension linger. The excitement and anticipation simmered and began to bubble and fizz until, finally, he raised a hand. The audience held its collective breath. Ichi was one for theatrics.

With a click of the finger, a ball of flame erupted from the stage and into the sky.

The crowd was in awe as the fireball shot a hundred feet into the air, leaving a plume of red smoke in its wake. Suddenly, it exploded in a colossal flash of red and purple fireworks that evoked scattered applause and woos. Within the dazzling display, something shot down in a flash towards the stage like a comet.

As it hit the stage, a cloud of smoke obscured the figure. Ichi lowered his arm, and the smoke cleared with a gust.

With a gasp, the audience seemed to collectively hold its breath and recoiled a little at the sight of a Succubus. The stunning entity stood at the centre of the stage. The air was heavy with tension as the crowd was frozen in a mixture of fear and fascination. With her wings furled, the angelic, naked body of the Succubus exuded desire.

The audience, particularly the men, struggled to contain their urges. Many wanted to masturbate, and others fought against walking to the stage. The Succubus, however, only had eyes for the restrained man beside her. While the audience could feel the invisible waves of seduction beckoning them, she could feel the lure of desperate longing in this man. She licked her lips, nearly drooling with hunger.

Muted chatter, cheering and applause spouted within the crowd. The majority had never witnessed a Succubus so closely. Such a powerful, intelligent, dangerous and often unpredictable being was rarely seen in punishments. Even Zero and Kyu, who sat at the front alongside Arianna and Emma, remarked with one another how they couldn’t recall the last time Succubi were used in punishments.

The tall, slender entity of lust knelt down before Lance. Even just her presence and her breath against his length sent it into a frenzy of twitching. So full and firm, ready to be savoured.

A lick of the tip, a kiss to that red swollen head, her tongue swirling around his shaft. There was merely a few seconds of stimulation, and the prisoner was already shouting out for relief. Lance thought that the Succubus oil was hellish, yet this sensation, directly from the source, was a new level of hell that he was not prepared for. It was a longing beyond comprehension – like everything that he had ever existed for had been replaced with solely a need to orgasm into this being’s wondrous lips.

Those moments she gently sucked his tip, he desperately tried to thrust his hips forward, to feel just a little more of himself be taken in. The silk bondage held him tight.

All Lance could do was arch his back a little and try to turn his head to see the audience, to plead with them to show mercy. The audience spat back their replies, yelling that he deserved every second. He dared not look at Emma, whose icy stare pierced him.

Every few seconds, the Succubus would pull her mouth off of his cock and simply watch it twitch. It didn’t take long before a drop of precum drizzled to the floor. Another little suck and release, and the droplet turned into a little stream leaking from his crimson-red tip. His balls were so tight, a light blue from being so constantly on the verge of orgasm.

The prisoner wasn’t going to last much longer. The crowd knew it, seeing how much precum was streaming. They expected the show to be over in less than a minute longer at this rate.

“Seal his release,” called out Ichi. At once, the Succubus stopped.

There were many gasps and surprised mutterings from the audience to see the Succubus following a human’s instructions.

The Succubus stood and pushed against Lance, causing the inversion table to rotate until he lay horizontally. She crawled across him, making sure to tease him further by slipping her tongue up along his balls, up his shaft and over his tip as she moved forward. She took even more time to let her chest press around his length, squeezing her breasts together to embrace his stiff rod. The crowd roared joyfully as he shouted out.

“PLEASE, GOD, LET ME COME!!!”

The Succubus crawled over him until she was straddling his waist, her pussy just touching the head of his cock. Lance strained with all his might to thrust up, even just to only barely pierce her wet folds. She held him there for a moment, her sexual aura driving him crazy. The heat of her pussy, a little dribble of her horrifyingly potent pussy juice, and that wicked, seductive gaze threatened to drive the prisoner to insanity.

Suddenly, she trailed her finger down along his sternum while whispering something in an unknown tongue. These were words beyond human comprehension yet designed to be used specifically on humankind. A light, warm blue glow emitted from the line the Succubus drew, and then, as it vanished, she slowly – agonisingly slowly – lowered her hips.

The shriek of pleasure that Lance exhaled echoed throughout the arena, yet it was quickly followed by the overwhelming cheers of enjoyment from the crowd as he suddenly became silent. His eyes were wide with horror, yet he couldn’t find the breath to voice his anguish. The sheer pleasure of that penetration would have instantly sent him over the edge. It felt like it had done, yet it stopped the moment he should have erupted – at that very millisecond.

He was well versed in the capabilities of Succubi, as most were. However, no study nor account could ever truly encapsulate the sensation. It was a hell that he could never have contemplated. Every time she lowered herself fully, her soft, wet folds cradling every inch tightly, his orgasm was infinitesimally close. The slightest movement and he’d explode. Then, as she rose up until only the head of his cock was still within, it was just the slightest amount of pressure relieved, just barely off the pinnacle enough to let him breathe. It ensured that he was not constantly frozen right on the brink but cycling that precipice continually. It was maddening.

The Succubus never sped up or slowed down; she simply kept the same steady pace to ensure maximal moment. She continuously licked her lips as she salivated. This level of ecstasy alone was a scrumptious meal for her, yet the orgasm itself would be the most wonderful banquet.

“Pl… Fff.. Pll… N-Need to… come!”

No response came to the prisoner’s rescue. All he received were the crowd’s jeers, though one voice was loudest amongst them.

“Only one shall decide,” said Ichi. “Only one here amongst us will say when release shall be granted.”

Ichi gestured towards Emma, who continued to watch silently. She took great enjoyment in seeing this punishment. Every plea and cry for mercy from Lance was a sign of justice.

Emma smiled as she watched the mixture of the Succubus’ pussy juice and Lance’s constant stream of precum seeping down his balls and onto the table, dripping to the floor. It was nice being able to have a very visual display and gauge of his erotic torment. Even just for him to suffer a quarter of what she felt would make her happy.

Nobody knew how long this would last. Often, when punishments lasted for hours, the crowd would switch around, with many coming and going periodically. Today, however, no one was leaving. Many were offered few opportunities to see a Succubus without it potentially costing them their lives.

The heavy breathing and frequent screams for mercy continued to ring throughout the amphitheatre as an hour passed. For the audience and the Succubus, it felt like minutes. For the prisoner, it may as well have been days…. Rest of the chapter to be continued...