Degenerate Masochist’s Reincarnation as A Goddess

Sensory Deprivation

It felt really nice being cocooned by bondage like that, while basking in the afterglow of a gangbang.

“You enjoyed that?” Anjy snorted from beside me.

My stretcher halted. I heard sounds of rubber flapping and items being moved around. 

“I planned to leave this for later, but it seems the overload method has no effect on you.”

“Mfhh?” I tugged on my straitjacket.

“Luckily, I believe I know your weakness. You’re familiar with encasement bondage, yes?” Anjy asked, pacing around me, unseen. Her fingers traced my tummy, trailing over a nipple. I moaned.

“Prolonged sensory deprivation does interesting things to a mortal mind. Insanity is quite common. I wonder how it will affect yours? We shall begin with a month long deprivation, followed by another overload, then two months, and so on, until the duration stretches to years. Prepare her.” Anjy clicked her fingers.

I was released from the stretcher. Strong arms corrected my base uniform, removed my blindfold, gag, and straitjacket. For a moment I was totally unbound, and slightly confused, until I saw the sacks.

Locked in narrow tube cells with sigil-etched walls floated girls and futas whose features had been erased by a skintight sleepsack and mask. A thick matter white collar with pink runes encircled their necks. Their hands and limbs writhed all over their bodies, furiously groping at their own bodies.

My feet were lifted and slipped into a sleepsack, the inside of which was slippery with lube. It cinched around my calves, licking the contours of my body as they stretched it over my thighs, perfect ass, and hips. Again, it narrowed to follow my waist. My arms were pushed inside, uncuffed. With a slap, the last bit of the sack tightened around my neck.

A snug pressure encased me. The durlatex rubber felt heavy. I couldn’t push against it or stretch it, but I could slide my limbs around my body.

“Nhgah?” An orderly forced my mouth open and stuffed a tasteless rubber ballgag over my tongue.

I winced, as another pushed big plugs into my nose, which ballooned, blocking airflow. I began to mouth breathe through a hole in the gag.

“A word of warning,” said Anjy, hefting what would soon be my collar. “The rune on this blocks orgasm from reaching your brain. Thus, I would advise abstaining from masturbation, to the best of your ability…”

Earplugs inflated in my ears, blocking all sound except my breathing and heartbeat.

A tight hood was pulled over my head and snapped tight against my neck. I struggled to breathe for a moment, before an airhole was aligned with that of my gag. A pressure then tightened around my neck. Something jolted through my spine as the collar clicked shut.

Arms carried me. I felt myself being released onto nothing, until I simply floated in a horizontal position, presumably into one of the tube cells. Then, nothing.

No sounds, no smells, no taste. Nothing, except an amalgamate of bodily sensations and restraining pressures from the sleepsack. 

Colors blinked in my vision, then faded into a calm sea of blackness.

Steady rhythm of my heartbeat filled my world. Every breath, the sack squeezed my breasts with a pleasant hug. 

My hands rested over my breasts. I slid one down, moaning at a suddenly amplified sense of touch. Every millimeter of skin felt like a nipple, and when I brushed past my nipple… It was like I’d slammed a cock against my g-spot. I arched, my body tensing. Pleasure rushed through my abdomen, radiating to my whole body. Careful not to touch my nipples, I squeezed my breasts, relishing the absolutely divine slippery silkiness of my skin coated in the oil that lined the sack.

My heartbeat quickened. The horny burn within me warmed into an aching smolder.

Danger alert. Big danger!

This felt too good. And I wasn’t able to cum.

If I started fapping now, I would never be able to stop. I would keep on groping and pleasuring myself till the end of eternity, marinating in my own arousal until I was a nutty deity pickle, a dumb slab of meat capable of drooling and nothing more.

I might actually go insane… for good!

Being an S-class connoisseur of degeneracy, the thought made me incredibly hot.

I should’ve stopped myself. I really, really should’ve.

Instead, I slid my palms down my ribs, smooth velvety stomach with hints of abs, wide hips—I took a detour to grope my deliciously plump butt—moving on my thighs. My breaths quickened as I trespassed upon the inner thighs. Heat radiated from my pussy like it was a furnace.

Moaning, I pressed fingers against my smooth slippery labia. I stretched and pushed, squished and pinched, playing with my outer folds. My breaths grew frantic and moany. The smoldering forge heated and heated, fanned by the bellows of my lust.

I choked down a sob, afraid of what was to come when I touched my more sensitive bits. And yet, I couldn’t stop.

My fingers darted for my clitty, rubbing the erect little nut with mad rotations, racing to orgasm… racing… My loins tensed. Every muscle of my body, every nerve, every fiber prepared to cum hard.

My fingers raced harder. Faster.

I bit on the gag, moaning madly as the muscles on my arm began to burn. I switched fingers, approaching even closer to climax. I clenched and unclenched my hips. I slipped the other hand behind my ass and slipped fingers in my asshole. Two at first, then three, four, five. Mmmph!

I was a hair’s breadth from cumming.

The strength waned in my arms, forcing me to quit and slump into a frantically panting mess. My body shivered, hot, wet, and impossibly horny.

Arousal coursed through me, like a pinball in a locked box or a cloud of hot gas in a container far too small for it. Pressure was unbearable and unreleasable. It was agony. Pure agony.

I began to thrash madly against my restraints, but my fingers couldn’t slide under the collar. No matter how I pushed and struggled, I couldn’t lift my arms from myself. I couldn’t part my legs. All I could do was writhe in my slimy hot rubber cocoon.

I cried and screamed and moaned.

I thrust fingers up my pussy and ass and masturbated, but no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. My clit started to hurt from being hard for too long. My nipples became sore from attempts to elicit a nipple orgasm. My abs burned from exhaustion from trying to work out a core-orgasm. My every hole dripped with the wet slimy oils secreted by the sleepsack.

Truly and terribly spent, whimpering and trembling on the threshold of the biggest orgasm in my life, I fell into hazy dreams.

I’m not sure how long I slept and when my lustful dreams turned into a lightless reality.

My self inflicted torment resumed.

Hopeless, I begged for release through my gag, pleading for Dynja or whoever heard to let me go. None answered.

My visual turned to static. My senses began to fade under the everpresent arousal. Days I writhed within the sleep sack, unable to grasp the elusive orgasm, yet doing my darndest to try and reach it.

After three sleeps, I lost all track of time. They maintained my health with some kind of magic, depriving even the rhythm of feeding and shitting from me.

I stopped having human thoughts.

Everything was pleasure and its denial.

Sensation.

Groping.

Touch.

Bliss.

World narrowed into my sleepsack, that slick comforting blanket. My restraint. Gag felt like a part of my mouth. The band of durlatex wedged between my pussy-lips became a natural part of my loins. My thigh-highs felt like second skin.

I started to forget things.

How long had I been here?

Where was I again?

Was I dead?

Though most of the time my brain was simply stuck in a misty fuzz, a constant experience of sensations without sentient thought. I probably spent at least a few days, maybe weeks without a single rational thought crossing my brain.

Sleep and wakedness began to melt together as well. I began to hallucinate scenarios and sensations. Sometimes my hands were someone else’s. Sometimes they belonged to an alien tentacle horror. One time, I panicked and nearly choked believing I’d been swallowed whole by a snake. Another time I thought I was drowning underwater.

Time crawled by from one dream to another. Every heartbeat was as agonizingly slow as the next, a throbbing eternity at the peak of pleasure.

It was one long moment before cumming stretched into infinity.

I became so used to it, that when brightness suddenly engulfed my vision, I genuinely panicked. Blurry figure loomed above me, shushing me as I thrashed, attempting to escape back into my peaceful nothingness.

Plop.

Sounds exploded in my ears. Words from a familiar voice.

Plop.

Smells burst inside my nose. Sweat, rubber, sex.

“Mmfgh! MMH!”

“Shhh! Shhh! Calm down buddy it’s okay!” She cradled me against a pair of tanned breasts.

Slowly, I came to, blinking tears away, I recognized Shadada disguised in an orderly’s tight white dress. My fingers were still inside me, rubbing away. I moaned, pleading. 

“Sorry friend, no can do. You’ll be spasming for a day straight if I take the collar off, and that’s gonna make escape mighty difficult. I sure hope you can still walk.”

Question. Would people be interested in a patreon for an extra chap or two and more frequent updates? I'm wondering how to afford a cover for the story.

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