AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is partially based on a lost story series from the NTCWeb forums called the "Nightmare Begins" / "Nightmare Continues." Since it's impossible to find, I have decided to write my own version, adding my own themes of magic, and expanding the action and characterization.
I'll give her this much, she was still the sexiest woman I had ever fucked. The kind of woman that somehow combined sexy and cute in the same package. I had met her at a bar on a warm summer night, and my first instinct upon seeing her was that she was way out of my league. But after a couple shots of "liquid confidence", I had decided to try my luck.
"Hey, babe," I said, sauntering up to her. "I hear the beach is nice this time of year. Care to catch a moonlight stroll?" Jesus, could I have sounded more gay? I thought to myself.
She looked over at me, her blue eyes wide and somehow mixing innocence and mischief all at once. The color stood out all the more thanks to her dark hair, which hung straight to her shoulder. At first I thought she wasn't going to say anything and just turn away, but then she asked the barkeep to put the drink she'd ordered on her tab, then downed it in one swig. I sighed to myself, thinking I had just scared her out of the bar. But when I turned to leave, I felt her hand slip into the nook of my arm. "Okay," she said, her voice sweet as honey, and her face slightly flushed from chugging her beverage. "Shall we go?"
Grinning like a fool, I led her outside to my car. "So," I said. "You really interested in the beach, or did you have somewhere else in mind?"
"Oh, no," she said. "The beach is perfect. I have a beach house I use for the summer, so we can use that. It's a bit far down the road, but it's nice and private."
My grin must have widened, because I saw her smile broadly at my expression. "Ah," I said, "So are you a summer resident?"
"Oh, no, I'm local," she said. "But I usually live in the inner city, thanks to work. During the warmer seasons, I use the beach house on my days off, when I can get them."
"What do you do?" I say.
"I'm a biomancer," she said.
My eyebrows went up at that. "Really?" I said. "That must keep you busy indeed."
"Fourteen hour days, four days a week," she said, with a sarcastically chipper voice. "Well, it helps when you've got magic to keep you fresh and energized the whole time, but once that three day weekend hits, I want to just crash most of the time. It's been a while since I've gotten out. So what do you do?"
"Oh, I'm a lawyer," I said. Then, a bit sheepishly, I admitted, "Mainly just traffic court. Nothing too exciting, really."
"Hey," she said with a smile. "Nothing wrong with that. Maybe after this is done, you can help me with my speeding ticket." She winked and we laughed a bit. We continued to chat as I drove us to her place. It was indeed out there, about a ten minute drive past the city limits. She had me pull off onto a gravel road which went through a line of trees. Finally, we got to a small paved parking area, and just behind that was the beach house.
It was a small, but well kept place. A living room and a small kitchen, a bed room, and a bathroom. It was sparsely furnished with only a couch in the living room, two chairs and a table in the kitchen, and the bed in the bedroom with a nightstand to one side. There wasn't even a TV. Looking out the back, through the living room's glass sliding door, I could see the trees continued to wrap around a wide area, giving privacy to a private beach which took up most of the area behind the house. A small boat was flipped over and resting on shore.
"I kind of like to keep it simple over here, ya know?" she said, acknowledging the lack of furniture. "You know, all peaceful and stuff."
"It's pretty nice," I said, appreciating the coziness of the house, and the privacy of the beach. "No unnecessary distractions." I turned and smiled to her, and she smiled back knowingly. Boldly, I stepped right up to her and leaned down to kiss her. She met me fully, pressing herself eagerly against me, and kissing back with vigor. We stayed that way for a few minutes, before pulling away.
"Whew," she said. "It's been too damn long..."
"Uh, huh," I said, my hands already seeking the edge of her shirt and slipping underneath. She did not protest.
We spent the next hour in foreplay, stripping slowly, kissing each other from mouth to chest. I was always rather good at oral, and being a gentleman, I went down on her first, kneeling between her legs and licking and sucking her enthusiastically. She came sooner than I expected, gasping and clutching at my back. She kissed me in return, but took her time returning the favor, having me kiss and suckle her breasts for a while first, as her hands caressed my inner thighs. By the time she finally kneeled down in front of me, my penis was tense as a coiled spring, pre-cum beginning to peek out from the tip despite it not having been touched yet.
Her fingers curled around my shaft and she leaned forward, her tongue snaking out to lick the drop of pre-cum from the tip. My cock pulsed in her hand, and I was so worked up, I knew I was going to lose it right there. "Oh, jeez," I said huskily. "Look out, I'm gunna cum..."
But she didn't move aside, and for a moment, I thought crazily that she was actually going to let me cum on her face. I closed my eyes as my penis clenched a few times, but somehow, I didn't release. Instead I felt my self hitting the peak of orgasm, then hanging precariously on that edge, my body rigid, but then the sensations faded a bit, and I was eased back to just before the point of no return. My eyes opened, and locked with her bright blue ones, which looked at me with intense study. I noticed a soft white glow coming from her hand, which held me.
"Wh-what did you do... wow..." I said, my voice a touch shaky.
"Oh, just a little trick I learned," she said. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. This just makes sure you'll last longer."
"Hey, I got you off already," I said, a bit more defensively than I intended.
"Yeah, but I multi-orgasmic," she said. I felt a pulse of heat from her hand as she squeezed me, then slowly moved it up and down. My breathing quickened as I felt myself quickly hit the edge of release again. But all I did was hit the edge.
"H-h-hey, come on," I said. "I'm not just a one-shot wonder. It's just been a while. I just need to pop and then I'll be good to keep going. This is just the warm up." I winced as she stroked a bit faster. The glow on her hand faded, but I still find myself stuck against the edge of release. She leaned forward and kissed the tip. "Oh god..." I gasped.
"Okay, enough foreplay," she said, letting go of my penis. She stood and grabbed my hand, guiding me to the bedroom.
Catching my breath, I followed, my cock cooling down a bit. Jesus. I'd heard healer mages knew a few wicked tricks in the sack (after all, their magic focused on manipulating the body), but I'd never considered something like that. The female biomancers must love using that one. But now that I'd cooled down a bit and knew what to expect, I thought I could handle it. If she didn't want me to pop until she was ready, well, I would take that challenge. I fancied myself to be tough when the moment called for it. I could handle this, no problem.
I had no idea how long we'd been going at it. There wasn't a clock in her bedroom, and if there was, I don't think I could have kept the numbers straight. We'd been fucking for hours, literally, non-stop. But my muscles never seemed to fatigue and even though I got to a point where I stopped sweating, I never felt the effects of dehydration or faint from the heat. Hell, I never even felt thirsty or hungry. Occasionally, her body would light up with the faint white glow, which would wash over me as well, and I figured that had to be what was keeping us going, her little trick to "keep her refreshed and energized."
And, apparently, greedy for more pleasure. Jesus, how many fucking orgasms had she had? I lost count, and she sure as hell wasn't bothering to keep track. Me though? I hadn't cum a drop. I was riding the edge near constantly, my body jerking and spasming so badly from pent up excitement cut off right at the gate, it was impossible to maintain a steady rhythm as I thrust into her. When it got too bad, she would roll me over and ride me herself. We did it in every position on every surface of the bedroom, on the bed of course, but also on the floor, against the wall, missionary, cowgirl, doggie style. She'd also mounted and rode my face while she reached backwards and stroked me with her hands. We'd even 69'd while standing up, me holding her up by her legs, so she was sucking me while hanging upside down, with me leaning against the wall as I ate her out. That was the only time she'd actually sucked me, and Holy Christ, the things she could do with her tongue. I probably had only her magic to thank that I was able to stay standing and not drop her on her head from that.
Right now, she was bent over, one hand pressed to the wall, the other gripping the nightstand stand for support. We were doing doggie style again, and I was jackhammering into her like a mad man. Any resolve I had to try and bare through her little orgasm denial game was completely shot, and I was like an animal trying to force my orgasm out of her. She was trembling just to stay up right, and I had to hold her up by her shoulders to keep her from collapsing face first onto the floor. Her left leg curled back, the foot hugging my lower left calf muscle. She was screaming like a banshee as I took her to her... god, what was it her fortieth orgasm? Fiftieth? Hundredth? Who knew, who fucking cared, all I could see was red, the pressure in my lions was like a crushing vice, and I was going to get my goddamn release if I had to fuck her clean in half.
Finally, after her body spasmed like it was having a seizure, and she pounded the wall hard enough to leave an impression, gasping out, "E-e-enough!" I felt something, a push of pure force from her power, shove me back, and she half-rolled, half-dropped onto the bed. I fell on my butt, but I didn't even notice the dull pain as my cock and balls blazed with absolute need. Still, I was exhausted, we both were, her magic finally letting us go, and we both lay there, half-paralyzed, gasping for air, and looking absolutely destroyed.
"Okay," I said breathlessly. "My turn now. Seriously."
"What?" she said. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet. There's still the morning."
I could not believe my ears. The morning? Good god, I couldn't wait that long! If I had to go even one more second with my balls burning like this, I was going to lose my fucking mind!
"No," I said. "No fucking way. I didn't agree to this bullshit." I glared at her even though all I could see was her splayed open legs. Her pussy, red as a beet from such thorough use, glistened wetly, as if taunting me.
"No," she said, firmly. All trace of sweetness was out of her voice now.
Somehow, I found the strength to move, my actions motivated by blind fury as much as primal lust. "Damn it, you fucking whore, you're going to make me cum! YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME CUM!" I pounced on her, grabbing her hands as she feebly tried to push me off. My cock arrowed for her pussy, still slick with wetness.
"No!" she cried out, and opened the palms of her hands. There was a white flash, and then, everything went dark.
I slowly woke up to the feelings of pleasure pulsing through my loins. I recognized the feelings of being steadily stroked, and I opened my eyes with a soft gasp. I tried to move my arm to clutch at the hand stroking me, to make it move faster. I found my efforts resisted. I was fully awake in seconds, and with that awareness, the pleasure went from pleasant to uncomfortably intense.
"What the hell?" I said, and struggled to move. I found I was on the bed, on my back, tied down by a whole series of straps along my arms, legs, and middle. My head was propped up by a pillow, but another strap formed a band around my head, and I couldn't lift it more than an inch or so. I looked up to the woman who was stroking me.
It was like looking at an entirely different person. Nothing had physically changed about her, but her demeanor was not the casual, eager to have fun woman I fucked the hell out of last night. She was looking at me with a cold, clinical expression, her blue eyes studying me as she might a medical chart. She had pulled one of the chairs from the kitchen in, and was sitting up in it, perfectly prim and proper. Her hand manipulated my penis in precise, mechanical jerks. Her fingers were pressed at precisely my most sensitive spots, and her movements were exactly the speed and friction needed to make me completely melt, and I found myself twisting in my bonds. But I was so thoroughly bound, I could barely move; even the bucking of my hips was limited. Riled up as I was, any stimulation at all would have me shooting off in under a minute, but there was no release; her damn spell or whatever it was kept a firm lockdown on my release.
"Oh, fuck," I said hoarsely. "Look, please, just let me shoot, I'll do anything you want afterwards, but this is too much." My words were getting shaky.
"No," she said curtly.
"Come on, please," I said. "I'm sorry I jumped you. I really am. You've just got me so hot and crazy I couldn't help it. We can fuck as long as you want, I promise, but you have to let me shoot my load at least once in a while, I can't handle it otherwise."
"I'm not sure what part of 'no' you're failing to get," she responded.
My breathing was getting ragged. Her hand never ceased its motion, and her expression never wavered. She just stared at me, watched as I suffered from the simple movement of her hand.
I let out a loud groan, half of anger, half of desperation. "Why?" I asked. "Why are you doing this? What the fuck do you want from me?"
"I want to use you to get off," she said, matter of factly.
"What the hell," I said, glaring at her. "I don't even remember How many times I got you off last night!"
"I lost count after thirty," she said.
"But... but... I mean..." it was getting hard to think, thanks to her hand. It never missed a single beat and I knew it would never get tired. "If you... got me off... you could just make... you could keep me hard... there's no reason to torture me like this..."
"Sorry, but I need to if you're going to be any use to me," she said. My mouth worked, but I could only give her a confused look. She sighed lightly, as if the reason should have been obvious. "Everyone has certain kinks and fetishes. Something that makes them weak in the knees and wet in the panties on site. Something that makes them cum harder and faster than anything else. For some people, it's something they have to have in order to achieve release. I'm one of those people; unless my fetish can be realized, I just can't enjoy sex. And my particular fetish is a penis that cannot achieve orgasm, no matter what.
"Partially, it's knowing that a man is suffering for me, because of me, but more than that, it's the physical feel of a straining cock. There is hard, and then there is HARD. The way a teased cock quivers when you simply breathe on it. The heat radiating from it. The way it flexes at the slightest touch, and jerks inside you more fiercely than any regularly satisfied cock could. I need that feeling inside me. If I had let you release at all last night, I wouldn't have cum half as much as I did. As it was, since you weren't desperate enough, I only achieved half as many as I could have."
I gawked at her. "How... how fucking many do you need?!" I was gasping my words no.
"I have a serious addiction to orgasms," she said, "and since I'm a biomancer, I can hit triple digits easy once I really get going."
My brain tried to comprehend this, but found it was too busy bathing in the intense pleasure her hand was still giving me to pay much attention to anything else. I kept writhing and trying to buck my hips. I was moaning now, gasping for her to stop. She did not stop, only continued her hand's steady pace.
After several minutes of this, she abruptly stopped. She stood up and walked out of the room. I could hear the rustle of clothing, and the jingling of keys. When I could get my breath back under control, I called out. "Where are you going?"
"Work," she called back.
"Work? Wait, like, back in the city?" I said.
"That is where I work, yes," she said. She stepped into the room, fully dressed, with my car keys in her hand.
"Wait, you... you can't leave me here!" I prayed she was joking.
"I have to," was all she said.
"Well... are you going to be back tonight?"
"No, I told you what my shifts were like. I'll be back next weekend."
"In four days?! You can't be serious. People will be looking for me by then."
"They won't find you. This place is pretty tucked away and not many people come here. Plus, I have friends in the police department I trade favors with."
I looked at her, totally stunned. My cock was finally starting to shrink as fear began overtaking lust. "Well... but... but what about food and water? I mean, if you leave me here for even three days, I'll die of thirst!"
"I etched some very potent life support spells onto your bones," she said. "You won't need food, water, or even to use the bathroom before I get back. I'll refresh them during each visit."
"Each visit?" I asked timidly. "How long do you plan on keeping me here?"
She just shrugged. "I'm going now," she said, and turned to leave.
Searching for something, anything to say to stall her, I said, "Could you at least turn a TV or radio on or something?"
"I don't have any here," she replied as I heard her root through her purse for something.
"Then what am I supposed to do for four days tied up like this?" I called.
I heard her foot steps, and the door opening. "I don't care what you do as long as you don't try to escape," came the reply, following by the door closing and being locked. A few moments later, I heard the car pull out of the gravel. Briefly, I wondered if she was going to ditch it somewhere.
"Nah," I said to myself. "She's fucking with me. Whatever else she's planning, this is just some sick joke. Or maybe she's just a thief. Yeah, that's probably it. This probably isn't even her place. I bet in a day or two someone's going to walk in here, see me tied up like this and ask me what the hell I'm doing in their beach house. Yeah, that's it."
That, of course, did not turn out to be the case, but the thought at least kept me from panicking for a little while.
Even if I had completely agreed to be her living fuck toy, there was no way I was going to just lay here for four days straight. I had to try to escape just to relieve the ennui. By the second morning, any idea that this was just an elaborate joke or that a "real owner" of the place would stumble upon me and set me loose was no longer convincing. She had at least been right about the life support spells. I wasn't hungry, thirsty, not even tired really, and despite lying in the same position for hours and hours, I felt neither sore nor stiff. The only real discomfort was the dull ache in my balls, but that was ignorable. So I spent the time trying to pull and yank at my restraints as much as possible.
They were very thorough. Multiple separate straps kept me lashed to the bed frame, like a bug that had gotten snared in a cat's cradle. But as I worked the straps, I heard a slight grinding, and could see just on the bottom of my field of vision, one of the straps on my right arm fraying on the edge of the bed frame. I didn't have much lee-way, but I kept at it. By the third afternoon, the strap had snapped. This gave me more leeway to move and bit better leverage, and best of all it seemed the woman's life support spells fended off fatigue, so I didn't even need to rest.