A New Bondage Door

THEATRICAL BONDAGE,

TITILLATION "TORTURE"—

AND THE STEALTH-VIXEN WHO CHANGED MY LIFE FOREVER!

The Theatrical Bondage That Opened the Door—The Extreme Foreplay That Followed—

And The Supercharged

Intimacy At The End!

THE STEALTH VIXEN

I've always been drawn to

stealth-vixens

—ie, women who are totally self-controlled and proper on the outside. But,

inside

, they are smoldering cauldrons of potential desire that is unleashed only when it's safe. In that setting—behind closed doors or in a controlled environment—they let their hair down, trash their inhibitions, and become wanton vixens!

My first encounter with a stealth-vixen was many years ago, when I was a not so stealthy sex-dummy. Her name was Joyce, and she was the

girl of my dreams—beautiful, elegant, and self-confident. I knew her socially and wound up working with her on some interesting little projects. Not so little, was my burning desire to rip off her properness, get her naked, molest her inside and out, and then stick it to her with ribald gusto! Of course, at the time, I had no idea that this exalted object of my desire was not as proper as she appeared.

Happily for me, Joyce was secretly a vixen—in the right circumstances. Those right circum-stances came together for me—way beyond my wildest dreams—on the day I impulsively bought her an exotic lingerie outfit to celebrate her birth-day. She was thrilled with the gift, and, much to my surprise, invited me over to her home that night to model it for me. Now I may have been a bit of a sex-dummy, but I didn't have to be a genius to predict with some confidence that I had a good shot to get lucky after the big reveal. Had I known she was really a stealth-vixen, I would have upped the odds of getting laid to 100%!

HER QUEST FOR SUPER INTIMACY

Actually, my dream girl was a lot more than just an ordinary vixen. She was a

super

vixen with a super obsession—titillation "torture" (and its super aftereffects) to be exact! She was super qualified for this interest, being nothing less than a pleasure junkie, an orgasmic glutton, and an elevated intimacy freak. And—she was willing to use the most extreme titillation methods to get what she wanted! What she wanted, as I eventually found out, was a super

intimacy-fuck

—inspired by the throbbing turgidness of her pleasure-partner's "tortured" desire.

TITILLATION "TORTURE"

The Means to the End

I had no clue about any of this. I was just hoping that my lingerie bribe would be good enough to get me laid! So, when I entered Joyce's house that night, I was, unwittingly, walking into a a totally unexpected, titillation "torture" sex-trap with modest sexual expectations. However, it turned out to be a super, erotic adventure that would change my life forever—for the better!

Titillation "torture"

is an extreme form of foreplay that takes sexual teasing way beyond its natural limits, and into a realm of erotic insanity that feels like exquisite "torture" and unabashed ecstasy at the same time. It can easily transform both partners into an altered state of sorts that feels downright cosmic. Until experienced, it cannot even be imagined—and I was about to experience it to the max! And for the first time! Yikes!

Joyce started me off with a couple of drinks to loosen me up—which she fed me, mouth-to-mouth. This was easily the most erotic drink I had ever had, and it loosened me up alright. It also stiffened my desire to fuck Joyce!

She then suggested that I wear a bondage device that would add a little spice to her im-pending modeling show—and also keep me at bay during the proceedings!

I had always been turned on by the idea of being restrained by a beautiful woman and being helpless to resist whatever deviate things she wanted to do with me—but only in theory. In practice, the idea was pretty scary. Who knows what even a trusted lover might do when she had you helpless—let alone a woman I was hoping to play hanky-panky with for the first time?

THEATRICAL BONDAGE

Bondage Without Risk

Fortunately for me,

Joyce's "bondage" device was of a

theatrical

nature

—it only looked and felt real. It was a set of handcuffs with a secret lever that I could use to get out of it any time I wanted. They made me feel like I was really a captive sex- slave—helpless to resist the deviant intensions of a woman who was a lot more than met the eye—and that was plenty! Sounded kinky—but, more impor-tantly,

safe

. What could possibly go wrong here?

Bring on the lingerie show, I thought. I'm ready for anything!

However, my definition of anything was about to be seriously expanded!

When Joyce entered the room in her new, hot lingerie outfit, she looked like a goddess in heat! And that heat was all directed towards me! Now I was feeling

really

lucky—

even dummies can read dirty body language!

Assuming the obvious con-clusion of all this, I wished Joyce would knock off all the teasing shit and let me stick it in! But, she was just getting started—and she had no intention of stopping anytime soon!

Joyce knew I would stay loyal to the "hand- cuff" fantasy because I'd look like a wimp if I didn't.

No self-respecting guy—especially one hoping to get laid by going along with a horny woman's fantasy—would ever ruin such a promising situation by wimping out from too much pleasure.

So with me effectively under her control, Joyce proceeded to make quite a production out of an extended, titillation game that eventually drove me nuts with lust for her! She did every-thing she could to break my will, but I never cracked (much to my amazement). She kissed me like a man-hungry jailbird. She undulated all around me, on me, and under me, like a rogue stripper! She gave me extended, unapproved lap-dances. She touched me, scratched me, and poked me everywhere with fingers that were on fire with desire! I was on fire with

frustrated

desire—and, amazingly, loving every minute of it!

SHE GETS TO CLIMAX—I DON'T

All the while Joyce was doing these nasty things to me, she blatantly played with herself—right in front of me! She was obviously climaxing, again and again—but I wasn't being allowed to cum at all. This didn't seem quite fair—but it was also inflaming the crackling sexual desire in us both. So who was I to get picky about erotic fairness!

TESTICLE TEASING—

The Ultimate Titillation "Torture"

After what seemed like an eternity of off-the-hook titillation torment, I was turginated to what I thought was my limit! Now, surely, she'd release me from my theatrical bondage and let me stick it in!

But then she started with the testicle teasing!

Joyce had already ripped off most of my clothes, so it didn't take very long for her to get her depraved little hands directly onto my favorite, private body parts. I started to lamely protest, but she stuck an ample breast in my mouth and effectively gagged me. What could I do but continue to "submit" to her depraved whims?

TESTICLE TOURNIQUET

The "Can't-Cum" Toy

Then, curiously, Joyce put some sort of "cock-ring" thing on my cock and balls and used it as a testicle-tourniquet! This kept me from squirting all over the ceiling while she was teasing me to the breaking point—and beyond.

Then came the diabolical knob-throbbing!

KNOB THROBBING

Make no mistake about it—we had now crossed the line between titillation-torment and titillation "torture!" We were way over the frontier and into uncharted, elevated fore- play territory—and there would be no turning back!

I was already out of my mind with sexual craving—and that's when Joyce took the titillation thing over the top! She lubricated her fingertips with spit, and started manipulating, massaging, and twanging the knob of my captive stiffy. I figured this was the lead-up to the grand finale. But no! The end was coming alright. But it wasn't exactly the end I was hoping for—it was the end of the cliff I was about to get shoved over!

The teasing was getting more intense and it felt even better than at the beginning. Yet I was still unable to overcome the restrictions on my squirtability. How the hell could the game get more and more serious—yet my throbbing desire stay mysteriously contained?

INCREASED SENSITIVITY

INCREASED STIMULATION

AND INCREADED SELF CONTROL

How Is This Possible?

Then I remembered the diabolical testicle-tourniquet. This little rubber contraption was not only keeping my squirt power in check—but also pretty much doubled my sensitivity in that already sensitive area at the same time. That explained a lot. And—it made the teasing positively torturous!

Joyce removed the ring every 10 minutes or so, let the testicle squeezing subside for a while, then put it back on and continued her torturous knob fondling.

I later discovered that this was done to keep the squeeze from becoming uncomfortable.

Titillation "torture" mode had definitely

been achieved—and my burning desire to go thru cement, if necessary, to get into Joyce's pleasure center was becoming somehow "spiritual!" I no longer wanted into her pus—I wanted

into her

. I wanted to merge with her—become one sexual powerhouse, together! That was a new feeling—especially for a reprobate like me—and it felt good!

MY DESIRE FOR INTIMACY—AT LAST!

This was definitely a desire for intimacy. It was artificial, to be sure—but it was exactly what my secret vixen wanted of me! I wasn't about to com-plain—

a guy in bondage doesn't argue with a woman with her fingers all over the knob of his throbber!

And did she ever work that knob for all it was worth. On and on she went with this supreme form of titillation "torture" for what felt like hours—as I screamed and squirmed in frustrated "agony" (spell that e-c-s-t-a-s-y). I begged for intimacy, but my pleas fell on deaf ears (actually, she heard, loud and clear, and smiled knowingly).

INTIMACY ECSTACY

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity

of "tortured," frustrated, and "out-of-this-world" anticipation pleasure, my stealthy vixen-in-heat finally flipped the levers on my handcuffs. I took this as an unspoken invitation into her inner-sanctum and the intimate lovemaking we both

had been longing for.

It goes without saying that what followed was the greatest fuck I had ever experienced—the kind of "otherworldly," cosmic love-making that makes sex-dummies fall, head-over-heals, in love without any thought to long term consequences or practi-cality! Actually, Joyce and I might have been a good match—after I eventually evolved up to her level of creative sexuality. It would have been worth the effort—but I never got the chance to try.

LESSONS LEARNED

Unfortunately (or, maybe

fortunately

—for my sanity), Joyce moved away, shortly thereafter, and I never saw her again. But I learned some valuable lessons that stayed with me for the rest of my life:

+ Exceeding limitations leads to elevated experiences!

+ "Making love" is infinitely superior to just fucking!

+ Intimacy doesn't just happen—it must be created and nurtured!

+ Foreplay is really the best part of sex!

+ Too much pleasure can be "torturous"—but in a good way!

+ The key to extended pleasure is self-restraint!

+ One's self-restraint capacity needs all the help it can get—particularly for men!

+ Bondage of some sort is a necessary compo- nent of assisted self-control!

+ Bondage comes in many forms—not all of them involve being actually bound!

+ Sexual frustration is the best aphrodisiac (for men)!

+ Sexual release is the best aphrodisiac for women!

(Later, I learned that shopping works pretty good as well)

+ No sacrifice is too great for the sake of elevated sex!

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES—

FOREVER!

Over the years, I learned quite a bit more about elevated sex—especially in the areas of excessively pleasuring women, sacrificing personal fulfillment to fulfill the needs of deserving women, frequently alternating roles, and creating decadent scenarios. It's been quite an excellent adventure in creative depravity—for a higher purpose, of course!

And the genesis of it all was that wild night of titillation "torture" ecstasy with my unforgettable stealth-vixen!

#