Funkytown Torture Novels & Stories

He carried me over his head, placing my pussy on his face and I put my hands on the head of the couch for support. I could not see what was happening but I felt a tongue inside of my pussy, licking round it and kissing the front of my pussy. My legs were getting weak the more he made watery sounds with my pussy and my clitoris was burping from the way he bit it, aggressively. “Ahhh! Fuck!” He held my legs wider, letting my juices soak into his mouth and my legs were vibrating. I was about to give up, the tension was on maximum spin. He put in three fingers , spreading the edges of my pussy and weakened the walls, making my eyes roll back to my head.

I order. Kira nods, although the look on her face tells me that will be torturous. Good. I’m here to torture her, after all. Her moans when I yank the bra down and ravish her nipples tell me torture is the last thing she’s feeling. She is enjoying this as much as I am, squirming in the couch with each stroke of my tongue. I bite down on the tender flesh of her boob, earning an unrestrained moan. "Is this one of your fantasies?" I ask.

Barely controlling his quivering as I stroke his length. “Is that a promise Jake… because I like it when you torture me” I said… flirtatiously licking my lower lip. “I want you to torture me Jake” I grinned slyly and move my hand between his legs, savoring his moan. His torture is swift and tantalizing. Capturing both my wrists, he held me in place as his mouth crashed over mine. I kissed him back as much as I get, refusing to let him dominate me. My lips parted even more widely to the demanding grasp of his tongue on mine, and he explored my sensitivity. His hands moving restlessly over my body, from my breasts to my thighs and then back again, impatiently ripping my shirt open to cup my n

I finally made it to the highway and called a taxi. *We are rhythmical elements. The songs we know by heart are a source of independence. They are also tools of betrayal and fantasy, hooks and ladders for traps and escape* I remembered the words all of a sudden when Blake showed me moves with dancing. I felt amazed that night, not by just how we danced, but by how close I felt to someone. The fantasy in the music and in him and not just the traps and escape. I need an escape now. I need to get out of this trap.

If anything's for sure, her sanity is completely gone. "Why are you doing this?" Harrison asked in anger as she gripped his shoulder. "It's fun," she whispered. "Pretending to be something I wasn't and toying with everyone's head is what I desire the most," she admitted with so much lust for torture. Her laughter became extreme as Harrison could only watch in horror. "It was fun till it lasted," she whispered with a sweet voice before kicking him in the groin. He lost his grip and she was able to escape.

Sloane groaned, though she arched her back, pressing her ass against Tatum’s thighs. Tatum chuckled, a dark, triumphant sound. She reached under the hem of her dress, revealing a discreet, powerful vibrating toy she had strapped to herself. Without warning, Tatum shifted her position, lifting Sloane’s dress and guiding the toy directly against Sloane’s drenched slit. Sloane let out a strangled cry, her hands gripping the edges of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white. Tatum didn't stop there. She pushed the toy deeper, using it to fuck Sloane from behind with a relentless, buzzing rhythm.

'You're a sick bastard, Alpha. They pushed through the steel door into the torture chamber, a subterranean world of brutality concealed beneath the mansion's opulent facade. The air reeked of sweat, blood, and fear, the concrete floor scarred with dark stains. Chains swung from the rafters, surgical tools glinted on metal trays, and under a blinding spotlight, the mayor of a nearby district writhed in agony. His assistant sat bound to a chair nearby, pale and trembling. Ronan's men, hardened wolves disguised as enforcers—worked efficiently: one pressed a glowing poker to the mayor's arm, eliciting a piercing scream, while another lashed a whip across his thighs, splitting fabric and flesh.

KINKS: Drunken orgasms, Hate fuck, Drunk fuck, Spiteful but willing female, Public sex, Risk thrill, Teasing and mild edging, Name calling, Soft fuck- To Rough fuck, Rough fuck- To Rutting, Hard fuck, Literal Rutting, Rough fuck, Mini Praise kink, Degradation, Hair pulling, Choking, Pussy eating, Multiple Orgasms LENA'S POV I slam my palm against the elevator button, the hallway spinning like a whirlpool in my vision while I wobble on my feet. Blame it on the too many alcoholic shots I had at the company party. Fuck! I knew it was a bad idea to have that party right in the middle of the week. I struggle to stand straight, pushing off the wall to turn just as the elevator pings, the doors sli

"Well then my dear. You will be tortured for 10 days. continuously. until. . . You. . . Are. . . Over. . .-That. . . Little. . . Bitch." "Don't FUCKING call her a bitch." Felix snickered at the man in front of him. He wouldn't take a word about Paris from the filthy man standing in front of him. "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!" Felix laughed at this. His teeth were covered in blood and eyes covered in blood. He had been brutally tortured by the people working against his happiness. Not once did he fight back. In his point of view. This was his punishment for what he did to the woman he had come to love. Her new found self-love and confidence only made him realize that he could

For a couple of hours, Anna had modeled her favorite fetish wear while I was tied to the bed enduring the FIST edging me to the absolute brink of oblivion. There was a little button on the side of the FIST, labelled "Blast off". If only I could reach that magic button. Pure torture.