I want to be fucked until I cum so much my body is left shaking. Until every orgasms melts into the other and my thoughts drip down my thighs. I want to be an incoherent mess, moaning, whimpering, crying out every time my body is shaken with another orgasm. And then, I want to be fucked through it — I don't want to know when one orgasm ends before another builds. I want to clench down, curl my toes, arch my back an feel so lightheaded that the only thing left for me is to feel the never-ending pleasure take over.
hhng I wanna be brainwashed and mindbroken, tied up with a fucking machine and vibrator overstimulating me, while a headset and headphones flood my senses with spirals and mantras and moans. I just want to be left like that for hours and hours, and by the time they return I'm just a blank, obedient sex toy for them to use however they want
Tags: Tentacle bondage; double penetration; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; occasional resistance from the reader and fucked while unconscious, therefore dubcon; tentacle blowjobs; obscene amounts of come
Reader: afab; no physical description except for what is needed in smut; is not referred to by any name
A/N: Reader attends an academy for magicians in this story. You can safely assume that all attendees of said academy are of age.
Yes. You should've paid more attention in your spells class. Yes, if you had taken your time and read the whole paragraph, you would've figured out that the number in that spell didn't indicate the hours the portal would last but rather how many of them there would be. And yes, if you had gone into this with a little more common sense, maybe—maybe—you wouldn't be hiding under your bed right now with a fuckton of tentacles flailing out of your bedroom floor.
But hey, no one's perfect.
Once again, you tapped your fingernails against the wooden floor—click-click-click. From here, you could merely see the base and the portal from which they spawned. But auditory sensations didn't seem to have an effect on them. Deaf tentacles.
From up above came occasional thumps. They kept bumping into stuff on the bookshelf, had already sent your moon water and one of your carnivorous plants flying to the ground (so long, Casper). So, either, they were blind, too—or they just didn't give a single fuck about manners. But you tried to be optimistic here and went with blind. That thing clearly outdid you in appendages, but you had all the senses on your side. And home court advantage. Now, all you had to do was close the portal and hope that it'd take the tentacles away with it. If not—well, that was a problem for future you.
Peering at your phone lying next to the spell book, you bit your lip. The group chat was still open. You could ask for help. But given how it had only been a month since the self-propagating slime incident and your friends were still giving you shit about it, you quickly discarded that idea. How would you even gonna explain this? Hey, so, I kinda wanted to summon a single tentacle for the weekend because it's a fucking Saturday and I'm horny and instead I got about twenty because I can't read properly when faced with the prospect of vaginal orgasms.
Yeah, no. You would be taking this to your grave.
A thud above you made you flinch. A tentacle had bumped into the headboard. How did they even work? Probably had to feel out everything in their surroundings. Touch, graze, probe. If one didn't have eyes, what else was there to do? They had to be big on warmth. On detecting surfaces, wet, dry, rough, smooth. You held your breath as you saw another tentacle slithering over the ground, inches away from your face.
The thing was: You had no fucking clue what you had summoned. Tentacles weren't that well researched, yet. It was known that they came from a different realm and that they probably had some kind of spawning point where they came together. A head, a center for their nervous system, something like that. But no one knew what their deal was. What nutrition they needed, how they procreated, why they even came to be.
A part of you—the stupid, bold part, that liked to free-style potions, annoy the professors with imaginative theses and try out new spells with no back-up or supervision—was intrigued. You could be the first one. The first one this up-close with an unresearched organism. Uncharted territory. Go where no magician has gone before.
For a brief moment, you were already seeing yourself on the front page of the local newspaper, shaking hands with the principal after having published a paper on tentacle behaviorism—and then plant number two joined Casper's remains on the ground.
Yeah, fuck that. Time to say goodbye, you little suckers.
Teeth gritted, you flipped the pages in the spell book in front of you, trying to decide on a course of action. But none of this sounded right. And you really, really didn't want to make things worse.
Something grazed the ankle of your foot. You kicked it off, hoping the spider would go about its way and leave you in peace. You had to concentrate. But seconds later, the sensation was back. Something creeped up your leg. Sliding under your sweatpants. Crawling up further and further. When you looked behind you, you saw a tentacle coming from the crack between the bed and the wall.
For a few seconds, your brain froze. You had no clue what to do. No fucking clue. Fight it off? Grab it and pull? Lie still? The thing slid up further. And further.
“Uhm—” you said, offended, like the tentacle pressing its tip against your clothed pussy was the same as someone bumping into you in the hallway. “Excuse me, I—”
Your mouth fell open. It started moving. Nuzzling. Caressing. Your hands balled into fists. Fuck. Fuck. If you had only read the whole paragraph, you could have had that all afternoon, possibly on orgasm number three by now, and wouldn't have to deal with a bunch of tentacles going bat-shit crazy in your room.
Your head butted the spell book, breath heavy, eyes screwed shut as the tip of the tentacle pressed against your entrance. They should degrade you back to pre-school because—no, even a preschooler wouldn't make such a mistake. And this wasn't even the first major fuck-up of the week. On Wednesday, you had flunked the botany test because you hadn't realized the page had a goddamn back.
In an instant, your head jerked back up. The book—the spell! You turned the page. And there, on the top, it said: Continuation.
You groaned. But not because of that. The tentacle had started rubbing your clit through the fabric.
‘Although the summoned subject is likely not hostile, it is advised to prepare an emergency procedure beforehand and under no circumstances use a closed environment for the summoning.’
Too late for that.
You read on: ‘The spell must be performed in a mental state of complete emotional detachment as tentacle species from realm E.22 have been known to prey on bodily expressions of sexual arousal. If faced with such a creature mid-arousal, retreat or use blocking spell (p. 462).’
Well, fuck. There was no time to check the realm determination table nor learn a fucking arousal blocking spell because that thing between your legs just figured out that it could go beneath underwear.
“No, no, no, no, no—” You reached down your pants and grabbed hold of the tentacle. It was warm to the touch, soft and a little slick. And it was strong. Tensed against your grip, wanted to go back up. Rub against your pussy. And then, it would only be a matter of time until you had a real problem here. So, you did what any reasonable magician would do: You grabbed the waistband with one hand, kept holding down the tentacle with the other, and wiggled out of your pants.
There.
You awkwardly maneuvered onto your side and twisted the lump of fabric around until you were sure the tentacle would be busy for a while finding its way out again. One down, nineteen-ish to go.
And that's when the whole bed moved.
You squealed as another tentacle shot out from the gap. You were dragged across the floor and pulled up, finding yourself floating in the air, right above the portal. It looked like some kraken shit right out of a Pirates movie.
Your hands, balled into fists, flailed helplessly in the air, trying to land a punch. “Hey—let me go!”
Blood shot down and your head starting pulsing in that uncomfortable upside-down throb. You were panting through your attempts to land a hit. Eventually, you gave up. Since this thing didn't have eyes at which you could direct a death-glare, you merely let out a defeated huff.
“At least turn me around, you dickhead.” You crossed your arms.
A lone tentacle came down to your face. You were prepared for anything. But—you didn't expect being smacked in the forehead. Lightly, but still. Your guests really weren't big on manners. It seemed to feel out your face, go down (up) your neck, your chest. It showed some interest in your breasts, fondling them lightly through the fabric of a shirt that was barely wining against gravity. But the tentacle seemed to look for something else. It slid further up, over your stomach, underneath your panties—
“Woah, woah, woah, wait—” You reached up to haul it back. Immediately, a set of arms came out of nowhere and wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back down. And the lone tentacle went on exploring.
“C’mon, dude—don’t. Look, my bad, okay? I'm sorry that I dragged you out of your daily business, I'm sorry I wanted to use you for sex—I'm sorry, okay? I’ll keep my hands off any summoning. I promise.”
You didn't know why you were still talking. There was no way of communicating with this thing. But running your mouth retained you at least a bit of control over the situation. Or so you told yourself.
The tentacle up above tugged at the waistband of your panties. And without further ado, it pulled them up until they were hanging at knee level.
You took a deep breath, head throbbing painfully. There was no getting away. This was happening. Your shirt was in the way, so you didn't see much. But you felt it. Felt the tip on your entrance. Felt it press inside slowly. You mouth fell open, a silent moan on your lips as the tentacle slid inside you all the way.
Then, the whole organism shuddered. Like a hive mind, everything started moving around you, tentacles shivering in the air like eels. In an instant, you were moved into a horizontal position (fucking finally). More tentacles wrapped around your arms, keeping them behind your head, a few others spreading your legs apart. Suddenly, it seemed like the whole network was focused on you. Tentacles hovered in the air above you like antennas of an anemone, their tips twitching almost excitedly. Something was going on here.
The tentacle inside you hadn't moved, yet. But now, it started—flinching? Lapping at something?
“Listen, dude, whatever you're doing in there, it's weird, so—”
To your surprise, it slid back out. It was slick with your wetness. A few tentacles came down to rub themselves against it. You lifted your head. Whenever they touched, another jolt went through the others. And as you watched the procedure, it dawned on you that, accidentally, you had just made a scientific breakthrough. You figured out what they liked to eat.
Without warning, the first tentacle slipped back inside you, started thrusting now. Taken aback, you let out a surprised shout. The sounds were amazing. Your wetness meeting theirs, obscene slick noises filling the room. The tentacles above kept hovering and twitching. Gasping in pleasure, you closed your eyes, let it happen. Fuck it. When would you have a chance at this again? When would another army of tentacles hold you down while you were getting the pounding of your life?
You didn't hold back, let out all the whimpers and moans and cries and more tentacles kept twining around your body, as if encouraging you. It was ridiculous how good it felt to be almost completely enwrapped like that—a blanket of tentacles, a wiggly mass against your skin—and as if the creature felt how much this turned you on, it started thrusting harder.
Little ah ah ahs spilled from your lips, and the tentacles spreading your legs became obsolete, you'd hold them open yourself if it would let you. Would let this thing fuck you until you had a stroke.
“I’m gonna—” was all you brought out before your orgasm hit you. Biting down on your lip, you barely kept yourself from shouting the whole dorm down.
The slick sound intensified, and you weren’t quite sure if you were squirting, or if the tentacle was coming inside you. The bulk of slick arms wrapped around your chest made it hard to see down there. It didn’t matter. It felt wet and warm and good.
Letting your head fall back against a squishy pillow, you groaned with relief. The tentacle pulled out, and something dribbled down your ass.
“Thanks, dude, I really needed that,” you let out, catching your breath.
As if the organism had to deal with its own post-sex bliss, the blanket around you loosened—even so much so that you could wiggle out a little and turn around on your stomach, holding onto a big tentacle like a tree branch. Beneath you, a whole other world expanded. Little planets floated through space, barely bigger than a house. Some had crater-like holes from which the occasional tentacle arm slipped out.
Mesmerized by the fact that you had a fucking galaxy in your bedroom floor, you let your gaze wander over everything the creature wasn’t blocking out with its arms. Big rookie mistake. With a hard pull, you found yourself back at your old spot.
“Okay, okay, I got it, no peeking,” you quickly said, hands raised in a disarming manner, “So—can you let me go?” Chest heaving, you looked up at the forest of appendages floating above you, a lot of them still twitchy. “We had a nice time, right? Guy over there certainly got his fill.” Your head gestured to the lone tentacle sprawled out on your floor, lying in what seemed to be a puddle of its own come.
Holding your breath, you got ready to haul your ass back to safety.
This time, though, the creature didn’t lose any time with another tentacle board meeting. Two of them shot in your direction, wrapped around your ankles, and pulled your legs up—further over your head—until it had you almost folded in half. From your first-row seat, all you could do was watch as another appendage plunged into you. You let out a squeal, and as if this bastard started to anticipate your moves, it pinned your hands above your head.
Stop stop stop stop stop, you begged, your pussy so sensitive it felt on fire. Only now, you saw what a mess it had made—all those juices flowing out of you, starting to run down your stomach. You groaned, struggled against your restraints, and groaned some more but this thing didn’t care. This thing wanted to fuck you and there was nothing you could do about it.
Just as you felt anther orgasm approaching with horrifying force, a violent shudder went through the tentacle inside you. Something flowed your pussy, and eventually started oozing out. The same white substance from before. The tentacle slid out, hauled itself through the air and slumped down on the floor next to the other one.
And something started to dawn on you.
“Are you gonna—” you started, but the words got stuck in your throat. Horrified, you looked around. Counted them. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one. “Is everyone of them gonna—”
The creature answered your unfinished question with another tentacle. A thick one. Thicker than the ones before. It stretched you wide open, penetrated you deeper than you thought was possible. With every hard thrust, it filled you perfectly, brushed spots science didn't even have a fucking name for yet. You’d pass out. You’d pass the fuck out if it kept fucking you like that. Slick come was still oozing out of you, running down your thighs, as the tentacle pushed the rest of it deeper. Locked in position, all you could do was watch and feel your orgasm approach again.
And then, something slithered up your back. Over your ass. Your eyes went wide. A noise broke through your lips, faintly resembling a desperate fuck, and a second tentacle slipped into your ass. You were slick all over, so it pushed inside like it was nothing. Started thrusting. First gently, then harder. Not a single coherent thought was in your brain, and like a broken record, all you got out was fuckfuckfuckfuck as they pounded into you mercilessly, as if your juices were an aphrodisiac.
This was godly. This was both fucked-up and godly and wrong—so wrong—and so, so right—what would your professors say if they knew you used your summoning skills for this? If they knew that you loved getting your holes filled by a creature from another realm, probably breaking every magician ethics code on the way? Fuck, if the whole academy knew. If all your classmates saw you like that. Ass up in the air, limbs bound, pussy nothing but a desperate, come-filled hole clenching down on a tentacle, mouth agape in a silent scream. You let out a whine at the thought, and then another, louder one as they sped up.
Two more tentacles came into view, seemed to wait in line. The thick one fucking your pussy angled itself so that it was brushing your clit with every thrust. And that was it. You came again. Hard. And just when you thought it was too much, just when you thought they’d stop and let you rest, they pounded you harder and harder until the thick one started pulsing and, far away, you felt a familiar warmth inside you. It was surreal, seeing all that liquid spilling out, and between coming your brains out and begging them to stop, you started to laugh because what if they could actually knock you up? But that train of thought got lost when the other one came in your ass. You passed out.
When you woke up, it was already dark out. Your room was lit in the portal's ominous magenta glow. Your first thought, oddly, was if you could somehow teach the creature how to close the blinds. What if people could see from outside? Then, you started regaining a feeling for your body. Everything felt weird, like you had overdone the morning stretch. Limbs tense from being maneuvered into unnatural positions. It took you another minute to realize what was going on. Now, you were floating in the air again, hogtied, head hanging down, legs held open. A long string of your wetness hung from your pussy, dribbling down into the galaxy below. The tentacles a few feet beneath you were slick with come, your panties resting on one of them, and—were those two tentacles inside your pussy? You felt so full. And so good. You had dreamed, you remembered. About coming. Or maybe that were the moments you woke up. Fuck. You were so tired. So fucking tired.
“How much longer?” you let out, voice hoarse. “Please, dude. Please tell me you’re done.” You couldn’t see a lot in the dim light. But there were some tentacles resting by the edge of the portal. More than before. Maybe you could speed things up a bit. Get this over with and then sleep for a week. And then try to forget all about it because if not, you’d do it again. You’d do it again and you knew it. You’d get so fucking hooked on this shit that you’d become the odd cat-obsessed loner but with tentacle monsters. Fuck, you could never, ever do this again.
“Hey—one of you, c’mere!” you called out and somehow, it understood. A lone tentacle appeared before you. Maybe they got attuned to their prey over time. It hovered in front of your face and, for a second, you didn’t quite know how to explain this. But then, you simply opened your mouth. It slipped inside. Teeth—you remembered and tried to keep your mouth open wide while your body was weighing forth and back from the thrusts of the others. It quickly got the hang of how blowjobs worked. When it pushed too deep, you made a gagging noise, choking for air, and somehow, the tentacle readjusted.
After you’ve given them a third hole, things did pick up a bit. It certainly helped that they had spread you so far that you could fit two in each hole at one point. Their come tasted curious. A little sweet. Your whole face was painted after a while and as the whole organism moved to fuck you in missionary again, a few tentacles came down and cleaned you up a little. Overstimulation became your normal state. At one point, you stopped counting your orgasms. They blended into each other, like a continuous high, and you were so far down ecstasy lane that you had stopped worrying about what physiological consequences this could cause.
When the sky started slowly turning blue, the thought that you had once lived in a reality without at least one slimy appendage in each of your holes seemed absurd. The slick coat on your skin was your attire. The warm liquid flowing down your throat your nutrition. Feeding this creature your juices your only purpose.
It had changed positions a few times during the night. Doggy seemed to be a favorite. It also liked holding you up in the air in positions even yoga instructors would shake their heads at. An honorable mention went to the time it had you hanging upside down again, your upper body so far down the portal that you were halfway in a different realm. Who could say of themselves that they had their first anal orgasm while looking down into a galaxy?
At 7:26 a.m., your gaze fell at the clock on your nightstand. Sixteen fucking hours. Your chest was heaving, and you finally had your mouth free again. Your limbs were still held down by arms but by now, they were a comfortable embrace, keeping you safe and secure, moving with your body when it thrashed through its climax. You were so used to them, that now, as they let go one by one, you felt an alarming chill run down your body. Nervously, you looked around. Some of them still let you lie on them like a mattress. But the others had freed you. What was going on?
From below, a single tentacle came. It was gorgeous, you thought—and immediately interrupted yourself—they were all gorgeous. All on your own, you spread your legs as wide as you could and pushed your slippery pussy lips apart. The tentacle slithered inside. With a wistful groan, you let your head fall back. This one went slow. Gentle. It savored. By now, you were so used to ruthless thrusting that this was almost a little dull. But the thickness made up for it. Soon, you felt as full as with the others and you lifted your hips a little and started meeting its thrusts. Wanted it to go faster. Harder. Bring you to your limits, where you felt most at home by now.
“C’mon, dude, that’s all you got?” you teased and from behind, a tentacle smacked your head. “Ow!” You laughed and sped up your movements. It did, too, and soon, the room was filled with those mesmerizing sounds, the only sounds you wanted to hear ever again.
But all of a sudden, you noticed something. Where there were once tentacles upon tentacles looking down at you, only your near-empty room remained. The portal seemed to have halved in size. Most of the tentacles have returned below, into their realm. They ominously floated through space, completely uninterested in you. Only the few holding you up remained.
This was the last one.
“Wait—” you said dumbly as the tentacle sped up, your pussy clenching down on it, “Wait, wait—what are you doing?” It didn’t react, kept on fucking you. A bitter-sweet ache spread through your chest. “No, hey, stop—stop—not yet, please!” A cry escaped you as the tentacle started hitting your g-spot, over and over again. “Please, I—ah, fuck—fuckfuckfuck—stop, please—please don’t—” You were so close again, it wouldn’t take long. But this couldn’t be it. This couldn’t stop, not yet. Not ever. This thing had to keep you, take you down to those little planets, keep fucking you, keep breeding you—
You let out a frustrated groan, about to grab the tentacle and push it back, drag this out a little longer—but then this would end and—fuck, you were so close. The tentacle was, too. You felt it pulse inside you. This would be the last time you’d be filled with its seed. The last time one made you come. The last time this would happen to you.
“No—” You reached forward and grabbed the tentacle in a tight grip. But it was so slippery, it pushed right through your grip—probably loving the additional pressure. You heaved yourself up and moved back, but the tentacle merely wound itself around your leg, pulled you close, and went right back to pounding you. You felt it. Felt it tense up. “Please—please don’t come, not yet, not yet, no—fuck—” You cried out, your whole body convulsing, almost falling off the tentacle mattress. You crashed into your orgasm, eyes screwed shut, holding on for dear life. The tentacle came with you, flooded you with its seed, fucked you through everything until your legs went numb. You were coming for fucking ever. It was good. It was so fucking good and you didn’t want it to end. Prayed that it would keep filling you, keep absorbing your juices—you and this creature, for all eternity.
In the afterglow, you barely realized the ceiling was moving. But you felt your bed's mattress under your back, solid and hard, no comparison to being gently held by dozens of arms. The creature tucked you into the blanket. You grabbed one of its appendages, but it slipped right through your fingers.
“Please stay,” you whispered exhaustedly, “Or take me with you.”
The magenta light slowly dimmed. You heaved yourself up on your elbow with your last strength. The portal was closing. Wistfully, you looked back at it. Felt the soreness in your body, your holes still gaping, come starting to flow out of them.
Just as the portal was almost closed, maybe the size of a plate, a single tentacle came out. It floated over to you and slipped under the covers. Like a snake, it slithered underneath the blanket and found its old spot between your legs. A gasp escaped you as you felt it nudge your pussy. Now, you were the one savoring. It pushed inside. At first, you thought it changed its mind and went for a last round. But it kept pushing, almost meticulously, making sure all of its seed stayed inside.
Then, it retreated and vanished in the glowing hole in the floor.
The portal closed.
Your room was bathed in the morning sunbeams. You fell asleep immediately; next time you looked up at the clock it was noon. Putting a hand up to your forehead, you let out a sigh. Your eyes kept darting to the spot on the floor, as if the portal would open again any second. Suddenly, something dribbled out of your pussy. Flowed all the way down until it soaked the bedsheet where a wet patch was already forming. Slowly, your hand slipped under the covers. The seed was slick between your fingers. And then, you pushed it back. Further and further inside.
I’m very much into fantasies where the poor sub is all tied up with a vibe against them and/or a fucking machine(or two/three) thrusting into them and they’re just left there, while the dom goes about their business, coming back hours later to find the sub completely broken, unable to form thoughts or move on their own, eyes long since rolled back into their head, just limp and totally spent
something i think about a lot is edging someone for hours until they're losing their mind, and i finally tell them they can cum and i start touching them just how they like. but i had numbing cream on my fingers and the longer i touch them, the further away their orgasm gets and they just don't understand. they need it so bad and they beg me to keep touching them and they're sure they can get it, they're so desperate, but soon they're completely numb and realise it's just not going to happen. they cry and buck into my hand and say no no no, and maybe i make them watch while i touch them for another hour while they can't feel a fucking thing
“I love being a brat because what are you going to do, give me exactly what I want?”
if what you want is to be tied up and edged over and over with my strap and a vibe on your clit, forcing you to the brink just to pull away completely each time, then sure. if what you want is to beg for relief and forgiveness, just to hear me hum, “No. I don’t think you’re sorry quite yet,” then sure. if what you want is for me torture you for hours before finally telling you, “Cum for me, baby. You have permission,” watching your eyes roll back, jaw going slack as your body tenses with the first wave of your orgasm, just to then pull out, turn the toy off and sit back as i watch your pussy pulse, suddenly empty and searching for stimulation, then sure. if what you want is to amuse me with the panic and realisation in your eyes as you throb through a ruined orgasm, then sure. go ahead, sweet thing. i promise i’ll get the last laugh.
POV: you’re strapped to a chair, toy on high, as I read your tumblr likes aloud— explicitly detailing the ways I’m going to recreate them. Your embarrassed whimpers are silenced by your own depravities, all while you desperately fight to hide how close you are to cumming.
ohhhhhh to be hooked up to a gooning machine all spread out and tied tight, unable to move except for the barest bit of squirming i can manage from the neverending edging. in my mind, there’s vibrating suction on my clit that changes in intensity to keep me right fucking there, so close to cumming, as well as a thick dildo drilling my cunt, mercilessly rubbing my sensitive walls in all the right ways. it would be an excellent bonus if i had electrodes on my thighs, my stomach, my chest, all to keep me thoroughly stimulated enough so that i lose my mind… i would love to be on this machine for hours, godddd yessss, maybe even blindfolded, oh so helpless to do anything other than take it and break… nnnnngngghhh please 😣
will forever love being given rules or instructions i just cannot follow. i love being set up to fail. gag me and tell me i need to say thank you after each slap or spank, punish me for only being able to give muffled, unclear words and whines. make fun of me for how stupid i sound trying anyways. that sorta thing, y’know?
I want to know all of your triggers and fantasies so I can easily tease you and press your buttons all day. How else am I going to reduce you to a squirming, leaking plaything?
i don’t think you understand how badly i need you to start pinching and tugging my nipples while i’m trying to tell you something, making me stutter and look up at you all confused and glassy-eyed. need your hand to slip into my panties and just start playing with my clit, rolling it between your fingers while you’re focused on something else entirely, like i’m just conveniently placed beside you. i want my need to keep growing and growing while you have zero intention of giving me release. i’m just your fidget toy. please.
wish i could be on a table, all exposed and rhythmically pounded by a fucking machine… like an art installation, moaning and writhing while several people watch me and make comments about me like i’m just an object for their entertainment as i get fucked and fucked and fucked
ohhhhhh to be hooked up to a gooning machine all spread out and tied tight, unable to move except for the barest bit of squirming i can manage from the neverending edging. in my mind, there’s vibrating suction on my clit that changes in intensity to keep me right fucking there, so close to cumming, as well as a thick dildo drilling my cunt, mercilessly rubbing my sensitive walls in all the right ways. it would be an excellent bonus if i had electrodes on my thighs, my stomach, my chest, all to keep me thoroughly stimulated enough so that i lose my mind… i would love to be on this machine for hours, godddd yessss, maybe even blindfolded, oh so helpless to do anything other than take it and break… nnnnngngghhh please 😣
