REWIND 1 - Extract

 

© DrkFetyshNyghts 2017

 

Jo thought when she woke up she would find that she had been in some kind of nightmare. That she had been in some kind of weird fucked up nightmare, but that wasn't the case. She woke up on her hands and knees. Just there on her hands and knees like some freak or other. Her instinct was to 'suck'. That was because there was drool spilling out of her mouth. The trouble was that she couldn't suck the drool back, not properly because that thing that was stuck over her clitoral area had been turned up or something. She thought like that in her mind - that it had been turned up. It was the only way that she could describe it. Then she reasoned that it was as well she was on her hands and knees. The sensations between her legs were so intense that she knew, she just knew that there would be no strength in her legs to hold her upright. Maybe that was why she was on her hands and knees in the first place.

"Uhhhh please god, please fucking god stop this between my legs please, please god." As Jo begged so the drool spilled out of her mouth in torrents. It was like a tap had been turned on in her mouth and there was nothing else that she could do other than to let the drool spill and pour out of her mouth. She moved her hips from side to side as that sensation, the one that she hadn't known existed before now, invaded the very extremities of her private flesh. And it was incessant. That buzzing. The pleasure. It was an incessant pleasure that threatened to tip her into some kind of madness. She tried to work out where she was. But she could only do little micro bursts of focus to try that and then the sensation would take over again. Each time it came back it seemed to have intensified. Each time it came back there seemed to be just a little bit more to it than the last time.

"There is no god here. Just me - for now." A female voice coming from somewhere. If Jo could get her bearings she would know where that voice was going from. But that was just it, she couldn't get her bearings. Each time she thought she had a handle on it that buzz would be turned up a notch and she would nearly faint from the sheer, undiluted pleasure that it was providing. A constant buzz. It 'felt' like a buzz. She couldn't be sure if there was a sound to it, to whether it just 'felt' like a buzz. "Who, t-the f-fuck are you? W-what the fuck to do w-want?" Jo was stuttering because the pleasure was taking away any focus or any ability to speak properly. She was fucked in more ways than one. Another dribble of thick drool spilled from her mouth and there was a thin film of sweat covering her naked body, and her head and face. "Who I am, who we are is irrelevant. You need to be in the here and now. You need to focus. To concentrate. All that pleasure must be melting your mind." That voice again but she wasn't hearing. It was melting her mind. Jo could barely think of anything. It was like that sensation, that pleasure was threatening to allow her the mother fucker of all orgasms, but was not quite letting her there. Like it was teasing her. Like it was cajoling her. Just showing her a hint of what the real pleasure was like but not all of it.

"Fuck you. Please, please stop this, or finish me off, please. I can't stand this." And the thing was that Jo was telling the truth. She couldn't stand it. It was driving her mad. Completely mad. She tried to double up, but she couldn't. The pleasure made her get back to her hands and knees. It made her dip her back. It made her thrust her ass and pussy back. It made her drip. And she was dripping. She was dripping from the pussy. Just like she was dripping from her mouth. And she was breathing heavily. As though she was trying to control it but realising that she wasn't controlling anything. Then she thought - she thought that she could reach between her legs and rip that fucking thing off her clitoris. She even moved her hand to do that, just holding herself up with the one hand. But then she realised she didn't want to rip that thing off, she didn't want to take it off because the pleasure was just too much. If she ripped it off herself there would be no more pleasure and she didn't think she could cope with that. The pleasure was torture but it was a sweet torture.

There was a little 'laugh' a little 'chuckle' from the unseen woman as she watched Jo struggle with her sexuality. "You can take it off. Go ahead, take it off." It was the voice of confidence. There was a sultriness to that voice, a smoky huskiness, but there was also a confidence that showed that she knew that Jo would not choose to rip that humming buzzing pad off her clitoris. There might have been a time, right at the start of this process where she would have done that. But not now. She was too far gone. Jo was too far gone. That incessant work on her clitoris had instilled a need, a dire need for her to be brought right off. And that was the thing, it was a need - a desperate need. The need to orgasm. There was that thing in Jo, like she was a little girl again, when she discovered orgasm for the very first time. Although, it wasn't 'orgasm' she discovered, it was this 'thing' this 'feeling' between her legs that she found she could encourage and develop - and if she did it in a certain way, she could 'explode' down there. She would always remember the first time - when that 'nice' feeling built and built and built and then there was this first orgasm and she had thought she had been a freak or something. She never talked about it for a long time to anyone.

It was her secret and no-one else would ever know. It was only eventually that she found out that was she had discovered were her own orgasms. This was like that all over again only more intense. More urgent. And it made her more needy. Made her desperate to release that orgasm and what that built up promised was something so hyper, so absolutely beautiful, that she would never, ever rip that pad off her clitoris. Instead she stayed on her hands and knees. She kept trembling on the spot. Dripping on the spot and drooling on the spot. And all the time, although she might not have realised it because of the melting pot that was her mind, her nipples were throbbing too. Throbbing inside the core. The base of the core. That throb penetrating through to her inner breast flesh and turning her breasts into hyper sensitive erogenous zones. Jo would be broken down like this over time. She would never see the woman. She would never come face to face with her abductor(s). All she would know was this sexual carnage happening within her body and within her mind.