Concentrate - because if you don’t, even for one moment, you’ll orgasm so hard you’ll die.
You float in the unbroken white of the room, no longer trying to fight the liquid blue bonds that suspend you there, instead using all your might not to think about what is happening to your body.
As you do, your treacherous mind wanders, trying fruitlessly to count - just how many times have you cum already? Dozens, a hundred, every time harder than the last, and the last time went on for an eternity and nearly stopped your heart. And worst of all is the certain knowledge that, on some level, it’s what you wanted.
For one moment, your mind wanders back to the present, returning to what you’re trying so hard not to think about. You can feel it holding your breasts, cupping and squeezing them with a gentle firmness, each squeeze collecting them into another firm suck of both your nipples. Gods they’re hard - you don’t know if they’ve ever been so hard, so sensitive, each long suck giving as much release as it seems to stiffen them just that much more. For one instant, you wonder what it’d be like if it licked them now.
The next moment the sucking stops with two loud ‘pops’, and you realize why one wide-eyed moment before two tongues flick over you. Your voice echoes off the empty walls, your breathing shuddering every time the tongues roll round to flick over you again and again, better than you could have feared. Gods fuck me it feels so - your eyes fly open just too late.
The tips that had been working around the outside of your pussy and anus collectively swirl inwards. Your breath shoots out of you, your legs tensing in their bonds, forcibly relaxing as you desperately try to bring your breathing back under control. Br-eath i-in - bre-ath OUt - brea-th in - breath out. The tips are still outside you, still swirling round both your openings, pressing their slick nubs inwards just enough to trace round and round the entrances to your body, and the depths waiting empty beyond.
You should want it, would want it - but if admit you do, even for an instant, then it’s all over. So instead you breathe, shuddering every other breath, trying so hard not to feel, not to want. And then something happens, something wonderful, something magical - your leg starts to cramp up.
You try to contain your excitement, wonder if it’s too dangerous, too risky - but what other hope do you have? You tense your legs as hard as you can. The sensation against you skyrockets in response, your mouth and eyes wide as you desperately focus only on the pain in your knotted thigh, focussing on how unpleasant you feel, how much you don’t want it. The unbroken white around you flickers, the room starting to fade: it’s working! But already more nubs have found the knot in your thigh, pressing into it with an expert touch, kneading pain into deeply satisfying pleasure. You're tensing as hard as you can, desperately trying to focus on the pain - until those cursed lips press lightly against the knot, and all the pain melts into pleasure that shoots up straight into your groin, arriving there a moment before the lips do, slowly parting as they slide back onto your cock.
Your wail shudders out of you, resounding round the room as you desperately try to focus. The lips slide to a stop just past your head, contenting themselves with sucking back and forth over the ridge of your glans, feeling so good but just not enough, never enough. And it never will be, the lips never descending, the swirling nubs never entering, never - until you want it. And as soon as you do, and as soon as they do, then? You know that if it makes you come again you won't survive it. And your death will be all your fault.
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