Her Lust For Tentacles Ch. 01

Over many millennia of evolution, the plant had perfected the art of maximising the arousal of its captives, but had also learned that when its prey had an orgasm, the energy exhausted in that action meant that the production of the hormone it needed decreased a lot. For that reason, this ancient tentacled creature had developed a very specific feeding process. It would repeatedly bring its victim as close to an orgasm as possible while not allowing them to go over the edge, maximising the production of the hormones it needed. It tickled its victims as overloading its captives' senses had turned out to be an effective method to prevent their orgasm, no matter how aroused they got. The plant repeated this until it had fed on them as much as it needed. Then, before freeing its victim, it would send them into a powerful orgasm to get one final hit of the required hormones before the meal was over. Unfortunately for Ariana, the meal had only just begun, as she felt her clit being pulled by the fine tendrils for a third time.

Ariana arched her back again, welcoming all the attention from the tentacles in the hopes that she would be able to force herself to climax before the plant could move the tendrils away and deny her. Like clockwork, her nipples and clit were ravaged and pulled and she tried her best to will herself to orgasm as soon as possible, because by now she knew what the plant had in store for her. Her wails increased in volume and pitch again as she got closer to release, but once again the creature was unbeatable. This time, almost as if to tease her failed efforts, the tendrils on her clit didn't stop entirely and simply slowed down to very gentle tugs and strokes of her button every second or two. It wasn't enough to send her over the pinnacle of pleasure, but it was enough to keep her right on the brink. And that's exactly what the plant did for a few minutes. For Ariana, however, it felt like an eternity as she struggled against her restraints and thought about every sexual encounter she had ever had, in a desperate attempt to achieve her climax. But it was not meant to be, as she simply stayed there, teetering on the edge of release as the tendrils expertly manipulated her clit to keep her there for as long as they could before she got dangerously close to finally cumming and they had to retreat completely.

As before, the tentacles all around the rest of her body doubled their efforts to bring her back down from the edge of her orgasm. They dug into her sides, scribbled around the hollows of her pits, spidered between each of her ribs and buried themselves between her legs onto her smooth thighs. Ariana had lost the ability to think, her entire existence was just this unbearable tickling on every inch of her skin, keeping her from having the incredible orgasm she desperately needed. Once her arousal had dropped enough, the familiar cycle began once more and Ariana let out a sudden but powerful moan as her clit and nipples were grabbed again.

And so the plant continued this cycle of denial, using its tendrils to stimulate her clit and nipples until she was one stroke away from climaxing, then retreating those tendrils while upping the intensity of the tickling all over the rest of her body, until she was brought back sufficiently far from an orgasm, at which point the tendrils would return to her most intimate areas. By the fifth denied orgasm, Ariana had tired herself out and stopped thrashing against the vines holding her. By the eighth, she had given up on begging the plant for release and shouting for help from anyone that might hear her, and had been reduced to a constant stream of laugher and moaning. It was somewhere around the twelfth time she was edged that Ariana lost count of how many times she had been denied. The plant repeated this cycle for over two hours, by the end of which nothing existed in Ariana's world except her desperate need for release.

Finally, Ariana felt the tendrils all over her slowly move away from her body, giving her some hope that the plant might be done with her. Of course, it wasn't.