A Teasing Tale

I have, by all accounts, what many consider to be a rather unusual hobby. I've indulged it for as long as I can remember and but for few exceptions I have never had difficulty acquiring victims. And, trust me, victim is the right word.

Part of the reason why is that I have always been tall, thin, and beautiful. Even as a young girl, when all my friends were feeling awkward, I was always comfortable with myself. With my body. And, especially, with my sexuality. I am lucky enough to have features men crave. Long, blond hair, big blue eyes, a slender figure with breasts that are perfectly proportioned. My legs are long and trim and my butt is tight and, well, the only word for it is "cute." I have that "girl next door" look and usually that is the part I play. But when the time is right, I an just ooze sex appeal. I'm a shameless and relentless flirt. So innocent, with just the slightest hint that there might be something more.

To me sex is a weapon. The power of that weapon comes not from its use, but from its promise.

I discovered two things early on. First, that if you know what you are doing, you can get men to do anything you want by using the promise of sex. Second, that the minute you give it to them, they forget point number one.

I set about becoming the world's most accomplished cocktease. Since then I have developed a three step program: Find 'em, tease 'em and leave 'em. No relationships, no long term commitments and never more than one time. Ever.

When I say that men are my victims, I mean it quite literally. I am not just a tease. I am a sadist. My pleasure comes from seeing them suffer, both while I tease them and after. The after part can be such fun, knowing how much they want me and knowing they'll never have me. Of course, I let them think otherwise, even encourage them. There is nothing sexier than a desperate man, with the possible exception of watching his face when you tell him "No" when he is so sure that this time you are going to change your mind.

My hunting ground is everywhere. Once I spot a target, he is mine. I find a way to say hello and pay just enough attention to him to make myself irresistible. Just enough that he just *has* to give it a try. I give him just enough encouragement to confuse him. Sex and innocence is a deadly combination.

Gradually, I find reasons to touch him, maybe play with his tie, run my fingers through his hair. I watch, see what works. It is the things that make them uncomfortable which are the best. Finding ways to be slightly inappropriate, touches that linger just a little too long, or are in places that are a little unusual. I find the inner thigh to be a wonderful spot. Of course, I pretend it is all so innocent.

I watch his eyes and tempt him with the usual, hands, breasts, legs, ass, feet. It is amazing how many men love feet and how easy it is to use them to make them squirm.

Once they are squirming I go in for the kill. It is always the same line. I lower my head a bit and look up with my big baby blues and bite my lip gently, before asking, "Can I tell you a secret?"

After he stammers his response, I pull close and press my lips to his ear, my hot breath filling his ear before whispering in my most seductive voice, "I think you are very sexy." Before I pull away, my teeth gently grab hold of his earlobe and as I pull back it slowly slides through my teeth.

I look at him and offer my hand. They always take it. From there, it is back to my place. I fix us drinks and we sit on the sofa, I curl up close, run my hands over him and ask him to tell me his fantasies. They can be shy about it at first, but I have a way of making them feel safe.

I start undressing them, letting my hands wander all over their body before feigning surprise. "Oh, I have an idea," I proclaim. I give them my best coy look and tell them to get undressed and meet me in the bedroom.

When they walk in they are usually hard and a bit embarrassed. I have lie down on the bed and straddle their chest, pressing myself into them a bit. Then I ask the question, as sweetly as possible.

"Trust me?" I ask them, dangling a pair of shiny steel handcuffs from my fingertip.

They always do. Hands raised over their heads, cuffed to the headboard. No chance of escape until I unlock them. Poor things. . . .

I lean down, give them a long wet kiss and bite their lip as I pull back. Usually I am laughing at this point. Up come the ankle cuffs, which I lock quickly on each foot, spreading those knees nice and wide. Finally, a heavy black sleep mask slipped over the eyes and I disappear.

Sometimes I'm gone for 5 minutes, sometimes for an hour. It all depends on my mood and their fantasies.

When I return, I've changed. I've turned into their fantasy. Maybe it's into a schoolgirl, white blouse, plaid skirt, Mary Jane's, or maybe it's into a bitch goddess, in a black PVC corset, elbow length gloves and thigh high black boots. I have collected outfits that fill two closets. I can be anything from a little girl to a warrior princess. I've even left them cuffed while I ran out to buy a new outfit, just to torment them.

When the blindfold comes off, it doesn't take long for them to be fully erect looking deep into the eyes of their fantasy.

It starts with me telling them how turned on their fantasy makes me, they watch me touch myself, smell and touch my wetness. Then the fun begins as I start touching them, exploring their cock with my hands, my mouth, my body. I make them beg and as they do, I squirm inside. I let them get close, over and over and over. As they tug at the cuffs I smile, growing more and more excited at their desperation.

The begging turns to pleading. I watch their eyes, feeding on their desperation. I don't say a word at this point. Frustration gives way to anger. They yell, threaten, scream. I just keep teasing, touching and tormenting. It becomes a battle of wills, one which I never lose. I stay silent the entire time, smiling and looking sympathetically into their eyes.

Then it happens. The first tear. I can almost cum just seeing it. I know then that I am just starting, that I am going to put him through hours of hell.

Now, I start to talk, repeating his fantasies back to him, slowly, softly. Every word measured for effect, each touch timed to add to his suffering.

Slowly, I break him, first his body, feeling him stop fighting it, giving me control. Next his mind, tormenting him with his own deepest fantasies. Finally, I take his soul.

The agony continues as long as I desire. Never less than a few hours. The longest was more than twelve.

When he is completely defeated, I make him an offer.

"If you cum, I'll never be with you again," I tell him firmly, then I slowly stroke. I've learned to play his body like an instrument at this point. Gradually, I build the feeling inside him, until he feels me in every inch of my being. Slowly the pace quickens, until the point where I have always stopped before. This time, however, I don't stop, I just slow down, to a crawl, letting his orgasm grow. "Never again," I whisper, watching him wrestle with the decision, watching as he so desperately tries to hold back. Short, soft, carefully timed strokes and touches. Then finally, a quick burst, unrelenting and feverish. I watch as he loses control in the most intense orgasm of his life. He cries, thrashes and twists in the cuffs as he cums. I watch, as he realizes what it means.

I smile and press the key into the cuffs, releasing his wrists and ankles.

I feel an incredible rush of power as I dismiss him, knowing he wants me now more than he ever has.

If there is one thing I enjoy it is saying "No." And I do. I flirt with them all, tease and torment them. I even get their hopes up, only to snatch them away. Then I laugh my little girl laugh and tell them what naughty boys they were for cumming. I'll never be with them, but I will never leave them alone.

I become what they want most, their deepest fantasy. But I am also what they can never have.