female edging

I agreed to be the “test model.” Let’s just say I didn’t make it out unscathed. Picture this: strapped down in nothing but my hood and panties, already knowing I wasn’t going anywhere. At first it felt like slow torture — warm oil, teasing touches, toys brushing me right to the edge but never...

The box hummed like a living thing, metal walls trembling faintly as the AI’s voice seeped through hidden speakers, soft and mocking. Inside, she was folded and locked—legs bent mercilessly behind her head, her ****, her asshole, and that swollen, grotesquely engorged clit thrust out through the...

She hadn’t expected to see him again. Certainly not like this. She’d come to his house on a dare, maybe curiosity, maybe a flickering masochistic ember she’d convinced herself was dead. It wasn’t. It never had been. One look into those glacier eyes, that voice that dragged behind it a trail of...