The Erotic Horror Collection

She remembered the first time, 7 years ago, how the women had appeared. Somehow her dreams had prepared her, as if these spirits were communicating with her, yet it was still a shock when she felt their touch. How the light touches became more intense fondling, letting her realise that this was no dream. The way they teased her, aroused her until she didn't care about the madness of the situation, fear had long since passed and given way to desire, tantalised her body until all she could think about was the orgasm she craved. Finally they had made her come, then again and again. Luckily, that first time, they stopped before it became too much to take. Yet it was the whispers she had heard after that always came back to haunt her every year.

"Every year on October 31st we shall return, and every year, we shall tease you twice as much as the last. Every year we will make you orgasm twice as much as the last. Every year, we will enjoy you twice as much."

On the 4th year she tried to run by staying in a hotel, yet still they came to her. It made no difference, they were latched onto their prey and they would not relent.

She had thought about this night for almost every day of the year, a mixture of arousal and terror. Last year had been unbearable. How they had teased her so cruelly, for so long, keeping her on the brink constantly all while she had begged and screamed for them to please let her come. Yet their calculated touches and eager mouths seemed to indulge in the responses. It made it so much worse that they never said a word to her. No matter how much she cried out or told them that she'd do anything, there was no response at all. The only thing they would ever say, just the same as every year, was at the end, when they'd repeat that next year she'll get twice as much as the last. Even as tears of pure frustration lined her cheeks, they still never said a word. Her body was their only focus. Over the years she had tried to train herself to handle what would come. Edging herself during her private moments of play, asking lovers to keep her from coming for as long as possible, none of it helped. No matter how much she tried, there was no way to handle the level of extremes they took it to. Last year they kept her on the edge for so long that she thought she were trapped in a nightmare. All she could do was weep for mercy.

Once they had finally let her come, it should have been a relief, yet she knew what was in store. Their intense manhandling of her did not stop. The way they devoured her pussy, sucking her clitoris as if they always wanted her to know that to them, pleasure should be its own form of agony. If only they would have stopped for just a second, just to let her bask in the warmth of her desperately needed orgasm. Instead it was just one screaming orgasm onto another. They were always able to find new ways to bring her to a shuddering climax. Their fingers seemed to be able to map the most sensitive parts of her pussy, exploring her in ways no one else - including herself - could ever accomplish. Their silence and their smiles, always so cruel. Originally she had wondered if they could not understand her, if the words they repeated each year was the only thing they could say. Yet every time she had told them that she was going to come, they understood enough to suddenly go faster.

In the first year, the pleasure was heavenly, a gift. For the recent few years however, it was hellish. Last year it was nothing short of torture; she remembered passing out more than once, yet each time when she came to, they started again, forcing her to orgasm repeatedly.

Usually she would dream of what they would do, the way their hands cupped her chest, the way their tongues flickered along her nipples, how their mouths and fingers felt when delving to her dripping wet pussy. Yet during the weeks leading up to this Halloween night, she had simply been dreaming of the way she had screamed last year, the ways she had begged with them for mercy and how it all went unheeded.

She couldn't take it last year, yet this year would be twice as much torture. She was terrified of what that would feel like, there was no way she could handle it, yet there was nowhere to run or hide. They were here.

Tendrils:

Waking in the brightly lit cell, she had no idea where she was or how she had came to be here. An alien abduction? Kidnapped by scientists? There was no telling, all she could recall was last being in her room masturbating, having brought herself to the edge multiple times before finally about to give in to her overflowing need, suddenly everything went black: then she was here, body still glowing with the unfulfilled promise of release.

She was only half conscious of the surroundings, feeling lost in a hazy limbo, unable to even fully notice the mechanical tendrils that were wrapping themselves around her limbs. Only when the creeping tentacles crawled down within her underwear did she seem to regain herself, though it was too late to do anything about it; now the unknown tendrils were trapped within the confines of the material and against her delicate sex.

The room seemed to be completely closed off, with no evidence of anybody (or anything) watching. The tentacles which were exploring her seemed to be entirely robotic. Wasting little time, they stroked and teased along the outer folds of her pussy in a way which shocked the helpless girl: softer and more attentively than could ever have been imagined. The fact that fear had not overcame her arousal at first made her think it must be a dream, though no dream could ever feel this vivid, this physically direct. With every segment of her skin that the tendrils touched, a sizzle of electric pleasure shot across her, though it was not merely a response from her body, it felt to be an electrical shock directly from the tips of these exploring feelers, emitting literal electric pleasure everywhere they touched. While they had been slipping along her pussy, trailing along the wet folds of flesh, they had not touched her clitoris yet; the thought of of how that would feel made her heart race.

The more her mind was cleared of the haze she had been lost in, feeling more physically within her surroundings, the more these things were turning her body into a writhing hive of sensation. The tiny tendrils began exploring her far more intimately, slipping into her sex and spreading her pussy, exposing her clitoris but still not touching it directly. Her entrance seemed to instantly be filled with intoxicating pleasure, as if she were being fucked by the very embodiment of sexual arousal. No longer was she thinking about her predicament or what any of it meant, all she could focus on was the constant onslaught of ecstasy that continued to penetrate her body and mind. Her hips rocked and legs kicked out to the wonders that were overcoming her body, though it was always just barely on the tipping point of orgasm, never quite enough to truly set her over, which made it almost unbearable. Once the tendrils began caressing her g-spot, she strained against those that held her limbs in place. For so long she was kept on the verge of that breaking point, unable to will herself, touch herself or even call out to anything to help... it soon turned from a limbo of pleasure to a prison of frustration. There was no way of registering time, all she could continue to do was pray that her release came soon.

After what seemed like hours of constant torment, with the tentacles teasing continuously around the outer edges of her entrance while they still explored every sensitivity of her delicate pussy, she wondered if they merely intended to endlessly torture her this way. The tendrils however were merely preparing her for the heights of ecstasy. For this entire time, her clitoris throbbed with longing, swollen and pulsing with the rhythm of her pounding heartbeat. With the electric pleasure that the tentacles emitted, she feared how intense it would be if they touched her there. With another heave of her hips in desperate longing, a number of tendrils instantly attacked her aching jewel, coiling around it as if lassoing it in pure pleasure. It instantly caused her to open her mouth in a silent scream, a scream that her body was too overcome by to even voice, as the pent up orgasm was instantly pulled out from within her. The pleasure was torturous, and with the coil not releasing her clitoris, it went on and on and on, orgasm after orgasm being ripped from her body, as if directly mined from her clitoris. She wanted to beg, to scream out, yet all she could do was thrash and cry in unbearable pleasure. Wherever this place was, whatever she was a part of, it would not let her lose sensation or pass out.

In the brief seconds where her orgasms calmed, until the brutality of the next was being shocked out from her clitoris and pussy, she wondered whether she'd wake up, whether it would stop, or whether she'd die from the orgasms. She'd continue to wonder this in those moments, though the orgasms would just keep coming and coming.

Possessed:

If only she could do something to stop it, to even be able to speak and beg for its mercy. The demon however would not even give the mercy of letting her scream out from the sensations tearing throughout her body.

The tape still covered her, the necessary markings to summon the demon. How foolish she had been. The spell-book had stated that it would grant her a single wish, yet occasionally the being repeated the same message it had used to greet her once she had summoned it.

"Pitiful human female, long has passed since I have bestowed gifts of power and wealth to your kind. You dare bring me back with such demands. Let this punishment be a reminder that I am not your lackey."

Nothing other than this was conveyed. Unable to speak, the only sound in the room, when the message was not being relayed to her, was the slick sound of her fingers constantly stroking her overly sensitive pussy. The demon's victim had no control of her movements, all she could do was think of how desperately she needed it to stop. For what felt like hours, she was forced to masturbate relentlessly. Each orgasm thrust upon her swollen red sex after the first few would have brought her to her knees, made her curl into a ball and try to recover: yet it kept her standing.

The demon could have done anything to her, could have terribly contorted her body or made her act out any number of horrors. Though it delighted in this instead, being able to relish in her sexual torment, able to feel the physical anguish brought about by an act that would normally comfort her. While she could not scream out, it could feel and almost hear the screams emanating from this human girl's clitoris every time she was forced to orgasm, the swift strokes honing in on that spot and never ceasing.

The first few times left her breathless, having never played with herself beyond the point of coming once; it was a pleasure she could not have ever experienced under her own administrations. The rest of the night however was spent exhaling through gritted teeth, internally praying that she may be spared from more ceaseless torture. By now she had expected to have become numb from the over-stimulation, yet the demon must have been stopping her body from protecting itself in such a way. Her assumption was correct.

The relentless attention to that delicate little nub was unbearable. Every muscle strained in a futile attempt to stop the onslaught to her clitoris, hoping to surface from the sea of agonising pleasure she was drowning under. It felt so horrifyingly cruel, to take such a sweet sensation and use it against her in this way. If she could speak, she'd have pleaded with the demon to take her if it wished, to penetrate her and use her for it's own physical pleasure if it so desired; anything to just stop herself from coming for just a moment. It would have been a little easier if this wicked entity was the one who was touching her this way; knowing that her own fingertips were the ones tormenting her pussy made it so much worse, so much harder to comprehend.

Finally, once she was sure that she'd perish if she were to orgasm much more, certain her heart would give out, it all stopped. She gulped for air, every orgasm had caused for her to struggle for breath, and not being able to scream or moan out made it seem so much harder to inhale or exhale. Suddenly, the demon spoke once more, but this time was different.

"Your punishment is not over. You wished to take from me a gift, yet instead I shall take from you. Your orgasm, humankind's moment of utmost rapture; this belongs to me now. Only on this date each year may you ask for it back for one night, but to do that you must summon me, and again I shall have my way with you the same. Farewell... for now."

Midnight Caress:

Whispers of eroticism twisting through the night air; like a petal entwined in breeze, you writhe, lost in the mystical passions that threaten to consume you.

Neither asleep nor truly awake, you feel an embrace like no other, as if the atmosphere itself is lovingly caressing your body, keeping you held in its place. Not being fully awake, fear does not cloud the enchantment of sensuality your body possesses. The first ripples of movement around your body has it curious for more, as if the slightest sense of activity in the air sets your nerves alight.

The caressing movement of the sheets presses over your body as if they were the hands of a thousand masseurs exploring the contours of your female frame. Your body seems to burn with a need, yet there is no way of ever knowing whether time has passed in seconds or hours - every touch upon your body seems to linger for an eternity.

The embrace of the entity against your chest sends a warm surge down to your toes, instinctively your hands press to the sheets, clasping onto nothing but cotton yet still feeling as if all the hands in the world were focused on your body.

As your skin is exposed, the air itself seems to kiss every morsel of you, as if the sensual whispers were showing their appreciation. You writhe in agonised ecstasy as your breasts are caressed once again, every fibre of your sexuality being enticed effortlessly. The sheets embrace you ceaselessly, like a sea of pleasure washing over you, threatening to drown you. Unlike fingers, the motions wreaking havoc around your body feel like countless threads of silk twining around your skin.

The movements lead between your thighs, making your internal, sub-conscious voice cry out in bliss. The sheet envelops you, a mass of pleasure encasing you as you rock uncontrollably, feeling like the sensation of a hundred silky brushes rolling along the deepest sensitivities of your sex, all under the firm grasp of the sheet rocking against your womanhood.

You will not awake from this abyss of pleasure until the desires of the night are through with you; passing out, screaming out, shielding yourself - these are options beyond your control. You are merely the passenger, they shall drive you to the greatest heights of pleasure.

Without control, without respite, you moan into the eternity of the night.