Moonlighting, Part Five

To catch up on the whole series, click here. This is the final installment. Let me know what you think!

“Chelsea, what I want is to take care of you. I want to give you the life you deserve. I want to help you accomplish everything you have ever wanted to and I want you to help anchor me, make me a better man, and turn my world upside down, over and over again. I want to love you the way you have always deserved to be loved…

“I’d like you to move in with me. If you need some time, or need me to court you, …I’ll give you anything, sweet girl. But my goal will be to own you and have you near me always.” Pulling me into him, he stares into my eyes and whispers against my lips, “Tell me, little girl, how to make you mine.”

My heart feels as though it might stop. I can’t answer because I simply cannot believe this is happening. A subconscious fantasy turned reality… in mere hours?!

While my mind is swirling, I suddenly remember, “I told Rachel I would check back on her!” I bolt upright and glance at the clock. It is nearly 11. I can’t stand going back on my word, and I don’t want her to sleep on the couch. I start to get up, then wonder if I need permission. I look back and forth between him, the clock and the door, unable to form words.

Master begins to chuckle as he sits up as well. Taking me by the shoulders, before wrapping his arms around me, he kisses my hair and says softly, “Stop spinning, little one. Please go get dressed, go check on Rachel and come back.”

Such a simple command, but, with such a huge affect. My mind clears, my pulse slows, and I feel completely quieted, like he just wrapped me in a soothing, warm blanket.

Had I always needed to be given orders? Was that part of my problem with anxiety over the years? Or did he create that need within me?

As he pulls away, I stroke his cheek with my fingers and search his eyes for the answers. What I find is peace. It doesn’t matter, I simply need to surrender.

After a moment, I move to stand and he follows me before grabbing my wrist and pulling me back into his arms. I sigh against his lips as he kisses me, and wonder if he wants to see if I’ll pull away. I wonder if he’s testing me.

I wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss, and allowing my eyes to close. When he releases me, softly and sweetly, he whispers, “Don’t be long, little one. If you are gone more than 30 min., I will have to come collect you.”

He gives me the most delicious grin and I feel my cheeks heat, he was testing me. Exerting his dominance over me in a new way, to see how I’ll react. That smile tells me I passed the test.

He spins me around and swats my naked and wickedly bruised bottom towards the door. I wince but giggle and run to the kitchen to collect my clothes. As I dress, I think about everything that has happened tonight and wonder if I can discuss it with Rachel. I could use a confidant, someone to help me sort through things. Perhaps I shouldn’t discuss Master, though… without permission.

As I slip into my jacket and check my reflection in the dark glass of the upper cabinets in the kitchen, I realize, she is going to ask. It’s late, my cheeks are far more flushed than usual, and, well, Rachel just has an intuition about these things. The conversations we’ve had regarding Master and my questions about submission had always come from her perceptions of my desires.

Running my fingers across my lips and staring into my own face, I simply couldn’t think what I would tell her if she asked what happened.

Suddenly, Master’s arms circle me from behind and his lips find my ear. “Are you stalling for a reason, little girl?”

I look down at his hands and smile at the return of that soothing relief. That feeling of surrendering the decisions to him.

“What should I say, Master, when Rachels asks about my night?”
“You want to discuss it with her? You two have become close, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Sir. I… I want to sort through my feelings with you, but…”
“Go on, sweet Chelsea,” he turns me in his embrace so that we are facing each other.
“I have shared a lot, with Rachel, already, Sir.”
“I have, too,” he whispers, smoothing my hair from my face and smiling.

I smirk at him, realizing this internal struggle is just silly. Surrender. “May I discuss it with her, Master?”

The tender expression that I suddenly recognize washes over his face. Oh, my… It is love. He kisses me softly and whispers, “Yes. Discuss whatever you like with Rachel. Whatever you need to do to answer my question, little one.”

As I make my way into Rachel’s apartment, I feel the goofy grin on my lips, but can do nothing to rid myself of it. She’s lying on the sofa with her eyes closed, so I make my way inside as quietly as possible.

“Ya don’t have to sneak around, I’m not asleep,” she says, actually sounding better than earlier. “Some fantastic lady made me soup that has some kind of magical, healing power to it.” She laughed, before falling into a coughing fit.

“Obviously, it didn’t work THAT well,” I giggle and rush to bring her a glass of water.

She looks at me as I hand it to her, and her lips curl in a devious smirk, “He finally told you!!”

“Told me what?” I try to be coy, but I’m a terrible liar.

She rolls her eyes at me and drags me to sit next to her. “Come on, Roni, spill.”

I freeze, hearing her call me that name. She knows me as Veronica. Marie knew me as Veronica.

Martin knows me as Veronica.

“Hey! You were just smiling and now you look like…” As tears fill my eyes, she can’t finish.

I stare at my hands in my lap and think about pretending to be Veronica all this time. Wondering how little of Chelsea is in her. Martin might think he loves me, but has he really gotten to know me? Even if Veronica is who I’d love to be… It is still just pretending.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Rachel pushes my hair back so she can see my face, before grabbing the tissues off the table.

“Yes. He told me. Martin has asked me to be his. Me alone. But you just reminded me… I’m not sure he even really knows me.” I grab one of the tissues and wipe my eyes. When I turn toward her, the confusion in her face makes me continue.

“My name is really Chelsea. I was married when I started… coming here. Martin thought the fake name would make it easier for me. But I just realized… Rachel, I’ve been pretending to be someone else. How could he know that he wants me when he doesn’t really know me? He turned his life upside down for someone who doesn’t exist!”

I drop my face to my hands, sobbing, “Fuck.”

Rachel remains quiet for a few moments before laughing softly. I look up at her, startled, and she laughs harder.

“Oh, geez, Chelsea. Just think about that for a second, would you?!” She grabs my shoulders, turning me toward her, “For the last few months, because of this ‘pretending’, you’ve been happier than you were for years before. You told me so, two weeks ago. You told me that you wished you could have more than this. You told Marie you wished you could find a guy just like Martin.”

Sighing, exaggeratedly, she grabs a tissue, and wipes my cheeks. “What exactly did you pretend to be that you aren’t? What exactly are the differences between Veronica and Chelsea?!”

Trying to think it through only makes me more upset, because I can’t see the differences. So instead, I clear away Rachel’s dishes and used tissues from the table. Taking everything into the kitchen quietly and filling the kettle to make her more tea, I set out to wash the dishes, but sense her behind me.

“I’m just going to make you more tea and get you into bed. You need to rest, so you can get better, Rachel. You don’t need to help me sort out my love life.”

“Don’t you see, girl? Look at what you are doing right now! Serving me, to make yourself feel better! You ARE Veronica, Chelsea. You went searching for this act. You sought out a place where you could really be yourself. Where you could submit in the only way you felt comfortable with at the time. Now, you want more, but can’t get past the pretending?

“Being upset about Martin falling for the fake you is ridiculous! There is no fake you. It’s just you. The growing and changing Chelsea.”

I look back at her, those words sinking in like none that I ever could’ve offered myself. As I finish the dishes and the kettle whistles, I recognize how “serving” has always been the thing I turned to. When my marriage was failing and I simply could not do enough at home, I sought out this extra place where I could give of myself, because I needed it.

I smile at her and walk over to take the kettle from the stove. “I guess you might be right, Rach. It was never about acting, it was about finding myself.”

Staring at the door, I take the kettle off the heat. Rachel laughs at me again.

“Go!!! I am perfectly capable of getting myself to bed, Ron– Chelsea. Go.”

Stepping out of her apartment, I contemplate telling Martin exactly what happened. I think about what I might want out of this relationship. I wonder at how I can go from submitting once a week to every day, hour, and minute.

When I open the door into the foyer, and remove my jacket, I can’t imagine even wanting to go home, at this point. And when I turn to see him, wearing jeans and his undershirt, his natural body language filled with such… command, I am compelled to kneel at his bare feet. To submit to him.

After a moment, I steal a glance up at his face. His tender smile from earlier makes me blush. He reaches down and strokes my face before offering his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up and against him.

Kissing me hard and letting his hands explore my body, he whispers, “I want to fuck you again, little girl, so bad. But I need to know what you are thinking and feeling.”

I smile at the difference in the man he is with me. He was like this, after my punishments, even if he rarely spoke, but I never truly recognized that this was MY Dom. That the tender firmness was how he made me at ease and how he made me feel good. He is so different from Rachel’s and Marie’s Dom. Different, but the same in so many odd and exhilarating ways.

When he starts to drop his hands, I whine softly, “Please, Sir. Your touch is comforting. I have longed for it, without realizing it, for so long. Please, don’t let go.”

“If you allow me, I’ll never let go, little one.”

I giggle and smirk up at him, cocking my head to one side. Just then, I knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to answer.

“Ask me again, Sir? Please?”

“To be mine? How to make you mine?”

“Tell me to. That is all you need to do, Master. Tell me to be yours, and I will be yours. For as long as you’ll keep me.”

His face split into a smile that could have lit the room. “You want to submit to me, then. That is what you truly want.”

“I want to be yours. I want to serve you. I want to please you. I want to bring you pleasure. I want to give you my pleasure. And I want to, and will, turn your world upside down repeatedly. Because I know, you will always right it, quickly and with command. …I want your command.”

I become breathless, at my own words. The desires of my heart and spirit, so tightly intertwined with the desires of my body. “I really want your command,” I repeat, leaning into him, to feel his heat and his own desire.

He groans and bends his lips to mine but does not kiss me. “There is a lot more to discuss. Arrangements to be made. ideals to understood. Limits to go over… Lives to blend…”

“Tomorrow, Sir… Please? For tonight, just take me… Accept my submission? Please, Master?”

He growls, pulling me hard against him, his eyes searing into me, and his lust scorching my entire body, drawing my own to the surface. “I do love the way you beg, sweet Chelsea.”

Lifting me as though I were nothing, he carries me into the bedroom. As we undress each other, it feels like the first time, all over again. I contemplate how long that feeling could last. But then, as he covers me with his body and enters my sore, swollen and used flesh, I feel a sense of him coming home.

He kisses me, and it feels like completion.

He strokes my body, and it feels like I’ve never been touched in my life.

He says my name, and it sounds like he is naming me, for the first time.

He moves, on top of me, and it feels like magnetism, as though we are always meant to be touching.

And as we slowly climb to the top of our climaxes, I cannot imagination ever experiencing bliss like that again.

Until he wakes me, at sunrise… to take me, again… to heaven.

Dearest Reggie…

This post is a bit of fan-fic dedicated to the amazing Eric Keys who hasn’t written anything in his series Letters to His Mistress for entirely too long because he’s stalled, bored, and/or has been spending time writing stuff he would actually like to make money on, or something. Bad blogger… 😉

In an effort to inspire him to finish, I’ve written this letter from Edith’s P.O.V. (the mistress, who Reggie calls Eden).

If you haven’t read his series, this piece will make little sense (especially the end) and I encourage you to click over to LTHM to catch up. While you’re over there, leave Mr. Keys a message to let him know what you think. If you don’t feel like it, read on anyway, just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Oh wait…

**WARNING – This is not my typical style of erotica, and includes a bit of horror towards the end.

(For those of you anxiously awaiting new material from ME in Good Girl and Moonlighting, it is my plan to wrap up both in the following week or two. So… no eye rolling or lectures… please? Feel free to give Mr. Keys a hard time, though…)

—

Dearest Reggie,

I can’t believe it hasn’t quite been two weeks since I last saw you. It feels like weeks, maybe months. I won’t go into everything that has happened, because I’m quite sure Abe has kept you well-informed.

To be perfectly honest, I’ve been happy to have had him around, several times.

I know you’ve been very busy, dealing with “things coming to a head”. Abe has even made some excuses about you not contacting me, but I will admit to some insecurity. Imagining you with some, young, lovely lady does turn me on, but I’d prefer to think of you missing me as much as I miss you. I’d prefer to think of you lusting after me, alone. You said, “…one mistress is enough. But sometimes, things happen.” I hope they have not.

I certainly have no right to make demands on that issue. But I assure you, sweetheart, I do not plan to find any young stallion to use. My only wish is to use you.

I can’t stop thinking about you. About our last few days together. God, Reggie, my body has never been so alive. I feel an actual, physical need for you. I’ve been masturbating at the rate of a teenage boy. Sometimes, several times a day, to the point of actually making myself sore.

I’ve already stopped once, just while writing this letter to you. I’m crazed with lust for you. I fantasize about you coming to my office and crawling under my desk to pleasure me with that delicious tongue of yours. I’ve only been wearing skirts and dresses to the office in some twisted hope to make that fantasy come true.

I imagine you making me moan and purr with delight. I picture myself climbing under there with you, straddling your face while I take your beautiful dick into my own mouth. The perfection of our simultaneous pleasure would be heard throughout the floor, but I wouldn’t care. After I coated your face in my musk, I’d push you out from beneath the desk so that I could get your legs into the air and have full access to your manhood.

I’d stroke your length while licking and kissing down your balls until my tongue found that soft spot between your sac and your ass. I’d massage it with my tongue and tease your puckered hole until you were wet with my saliva. I’d push inside, driving you wild, then I’d fuck your ass with my finger and take your cock back into my mouth.

Just before you were about to explode, I’d climb on top of you and fuck you like it was the last day of my life. I’d come all over you while you were coming inside of me. And, just to prove I really had you, I’d kiss and lick you all over until you were hard again.

I just had to masturbate, again. I want you so bad, Reggie. I need you.

The dreams have gotten so intense, lately. I sometimes wake more than once, during the night, on the verge of orgasm. When I told you about them, I had hoped to purge myself of them. But now, the rare nights that they don’t appear, I find that I miss them, in a sense.

One of the dreams, last week, was absolutely terrifying. The demons had us both chained, and were torturing me, while forcing you to watch. Your eyes were wide, but your face was set like stone. They cut open my skin with their claw-like fingers. They moved the burning chains around so they could access fresh flesh. They used their barbed tongues and talons on my breasts and pussy, driving me insane with pain and pleasure.

Several times, when I thought I was about to die, I would see your raging, hard cock, and would be suddenly out of my mind with orgasm. Finally, during one of those orgasms, you broke free of your chains and ripped the demons apart before fucking me, wildly, covered in their vile flesh.

When I woke, my husband was screaming at me to stop, because I was writhing and finger fucking myself, right there, next to him. I didn’t stop. Until I came.

He is sure something is wrong with me, because through all of this masturbating, I can’t have sex with him. I can’t even imagine it, sweetheart, because all I can think of is you. I’ve slept in the spare bedroom since that night. He’s barely spoken to me, other than trying to get me to go to church and speak to our pastor, again.

With everything else that has happened, I simply no longer see the point.

The dreams are horrific, for sure. I do not understand why they make me feel like they do. But it is almost as if they are a surrogate for you. I feel more sated from the orgasms I have from those dreams than any, in between. Almost as satisfied as I would be with you.

But I won’t be satisfied again, until I have you in my arms. Please, sweetheart. Whatever is keeping you from me, I wish you’d sneak away.

I need you, Reggie.

Love,
Your ‘Eden’

Dancer

I finished my latest installment of the Dancer series on Hipster Intelligence Agency.

It is a story about Natalie, an eighteen year old, quite cocky and self confident girl, seeking Dominance without quite realizing it. She throws herself in the path of a handsome, but rumored playboy who quickly helps her see things in herself that she had never realized. And makes her want things she has never wanted.

It’s a pretty hot series, which I enjoyed writing a lot. I hope, if you haven’t already, that you’ll check it out.

Dancer
Dancer, Part 2
Dancer, Part 3
Dancer, Part 4

Let me know what you think!!

Blackmail

Reclining by MTJforever via DeviantArt.com

As I kissed Samuel goodbye, he pulled me down on top of him, giving me that sexy smirk that always gets me. “Don’t go yet, baby. If you stay, I’ll make it worth your while…”

“I have to go, Sammy. You know I do.” I stroked his scruffy cheek with my knuckles and stared into his sad, grey eyes. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m already on thin ice. If anyone finds out about us, I will lose my job.”

I pressed my lips to his and let his tongue slip inside my mouth. I loved his kisses so much, for a moment I almost didn’t care about losing my job. But a three figure salary is hard to come by, these days. Regardless of whether I was falling in love with my assistant or not.

As I pulled back, he held me tight. I sighed and touched my forehead to his, “Samuel…”
“I want to quit, Lex. If I quit, we can be together.”
“No. I won’t let you give up the tuition reimbursement you’ve busted your ass to get for the last 22 months. In a few more months, you’ll put in for a promotion and we’ll be free to do what we want. Let’s not fuck that up.”

Groaning his assent, he finally released me. After I stood, I stroked his cheek again, his soft, three days of growth tickling my fingers. “I love you, Sammy. We will be together… If that’s what you really want. But for now, let’s stick to the plan.”

He rose, enveloping me in his arms and bent to whisper in my ear, “We already are together, baby. You are mine, despite my inability to claim you publicly.” His breath trailed across my ear and down my neck before he sank his teeth into my skin, sending tremors throughout my body.

“Fuck, Sammy… You do know how to make a mess of me.”

His hand snaked up into my hair and he yanked my head back, “I’ve got to leave my mark somehow,” he growled before kissing me and pressing into me so that I could feel that I was making a mess of him as well.

If I’d allowed myself the moment to think, I would’ve made the smart decision.

But that night, my body and heart did not allow my brain that moment. As I pushed him back onto his couch, and stripped off my shirt, his delicious cock was the only thing on my mind.

He gaped at me for only a second before grabbing my hand and pulling me to straddle him. “God, I love you, babe,” he whispered in my hair while his hands explored my curves. “And if fucking you is the only way I can show it, I’m going to fuck you till you forget and then fuck you till you remember.”

And, that he did. When I woke, I was so sore, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk. Somehow, we’d ended up on his kitchen table and as I stood, I actually felt sure he had bruised my cervix. I had bite marks on my breasts and upper thigh. My head hurt like he pounded me into a wall… Oh, he did.

“Damn you, you luscious man,” I breathed, as I made my way to a cabinet to get some Motrin.

It was still early, but when I saw the time, I started to panick.

Samuel lived in the apartment building down the block from our office. Generally, I would leave my car parked in the garage, and walk down with a few coworkers to have a drink or two at this pub down the street. Before the others left, Samuel would take off, and I was almost always the last to leave. That way, no one had a clue what my plans really were.

I’d noticed the mail guy, Duane, was still there when I left a few times, but I knew he rode a bicycle to work every day, so he wouldn’t notice my car, still parked in the garage. Or so I thought.

I quickly dressed and tried to make myself look as though I hadn’t been fucked sideways for the last five hours. When I bent to kiss Sammy on the forehead, he mumbled something about my pussy, and I smiled at the thought of him having raunchy dreams about me.

Ducking out the side entrance of the building, as I generally do, I walked quickly up the alley. It was well before sunrise, and I practiced the lie I would tell if anyone asked about my car being in the garage all night. I searched my purse for my keys, but when I reached the end of the alley, I ran directly into the chest of that creep, Duane.

Brick wall by madguru via DeviantArt.com

He was tall and lanky, the long haired but nerdy type, but he didn’t flinch at all when I plowed into him. When I looked up, the grin on his lips seemed a lot like a sneer, and his eyes were positively alive with internal laughter.

“Ms. Reynolds,” he said in that gravelly voice that always made me uneasy. “What on earth has you out this late… Your studly assistant’s cock, no doubt.”

I feigned complete shock and disgust. “Duane, now, please. You know it is against company policy for me to fraternize with my assistant!” I was a pretty good liar. I’d gotten myself out of plenty of tight spots in my thirty something years. I wasn’t going to let this 28 year old dork bowl me over.

“I felt a little sick after I left the pub. One too many cocktails, I suppose. Samuel was kind enough to let me sleep it off, on his sofa.”

Duane chuckled and this time, his sneer was completely obvious. “Please don’t lie, Alexis. You definitely weren’t sleeping on that sofa with Sammy.” Just then, I noticed his phone in his hand. He turned it to face me, and I watched as the amazing sexcapades I had just revelled in, played out, in full color, on that little screen in his hand.

“I really would have thought the two of you would be smart enough to realize you were perfectly visible from the fire escape. I really would have thought that you, Alexis, would know better than to get into this kind of predicament.”

I stood gaping at him before snatching the phone from his hand. “Before you smash it, and have to replace it, that video is already attached to an email. A message that will be sent out to your boss in exactly two hours, unless I stop it.”

God, his voice was evil. I wanted to spit in his face. I wanted to run back up to Samuel and tell him to beat the loser to a pulp. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“What do you want, prick? …A promotion? …Money? …Just tell me.” I could feel the tears starting to build. I was never any good at confrontation. I was even worse in desperate situations. “Just tell me, you can have whatever you want. Just leave Sammy out of it.”

He laughed loudly and suddenly grabbed me by the neck. His strength was so surprising that I was coughing and gasping before I realized my toes were no longer on the ground.

“I will have exactly what I want, you snotty, little slut. What I’ve always wanted! You don’t even remember, do you? Turning me down… Telling me you don’t date coworkers. You’re a forgetful little bitch, aren’t you. But now, you’re going to suck my cock whenever I want! I’m gonna fuck every hole in your pretty little body, and then, my friends are gonna pay me, so they can have a turn, as well.”

He set me back on my feet and backed me against the brick wall behind me. I clawed at his fingers, trying to free myself from his grip, but feeling something along with the fear that I didn’t understand. He pressed against me, and I could feel his erection rubbing against my belly as he loosened his grip on my neck. “Don’t fight me, Lex. It will be worse if you fight me.”

His breath in my hair made my skin crawl, yet not in repulsion. I still wanted to spit in his face, but I also wanted to lick it. When his hand left my throat and skimmed down over my breasts, belly and skirt, I tried hard to tell myself it wasn’t worth it. That Samuel and I would find new jobs. But when his fingers slipped under my hem and between my thighs, he breathed the words in my ear that made me incapable of saying no.

“Good girl… Do you agree to my terms? Or should I let the email go?” His fingers pulled my damp panties to the side before sliding up and down my slit. “God, you’re so wet, you little slut. Are you actually turned on by me blackmailing you?” His voice was softer, and I wanted to scream, ‘No, never, you disgust me, you fucking spineless pervert!’

But all that came out of my mouth was, “Yes, Sir.”

The smile that curled his lips was villainous. I hated my body for betraying me. It seemed to always betray me. He pulled his fingers from my pussy and licked them clean. All I could do was stare at him, nauseous and aroused at the same time.

“You and one friend. One time each,” I whispered, trying to hold onto some semblance of self respect.

“Me, as many times as I like, until your boy gets his promotion, and five of my friends… Once.”

“No… I can’t do five.” And then, I started to cry.

I hated myself with a passion in that moment. A moment when I needed to project strength and negotiate terms with this psychopath. Instead, I prove that I am just a girl. A scared, little girl. I covered my face and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. When he peeled my hands away, I expected to see that awful, smug, sneer on his lips. But it wasn’t there.

“Two. Guys Samuel doesn’t know. He won’t find out, I promise.”

Whatever the change was, whatever my tears did to him, I wondered if I should try to press my luck, if maybe Duane really wasn’t the prick he’d been acting like. But then, the sneer returned, and he whispered, “And it starts today. I’m going to walk you back to your car and you’re going to suck my cock like the dirty little whore you are.”

I couldn’t say or do anything. I only nodded, trembling and having awful thoughts about what else he might do to me during the length of this arrangement. Awful, but exciting.

I cried hard as we walked through the garage to my car, while he stopped the email from sending and supposedly deleted the video. I was sure he didn’t, and that he would watch it over and over, at his leisure. The thought made me nauseous and uneasy, but imagining him pleasuring himself while he watched me get fucked nine different ways, was uncomfortably arousing. I was mortified, turned on, and ridiculously confused.

I wondered if he’d followed me before. If he’d watched, or worse, taken video of Samuel and I on different nights. I thought back to a night, a few weeks before, when he’d pressed me against that stupid window to the fire escape and fucked my ass. I was so turned on at the time about the idea of someone out there watching… What if Duane had been out there that night, hiding?

When we got into my car, I sat back in the drivers seat, tears still flowing, and gripped the steering wheel for a moment. He turned, in the passenger seat, and reached toward me to wipe my cheeks with his thumb. “You can’t do this every time.” His voice was different, again. But his face remained hard. “Good girls don’t cry.”

How he knew the perfect thing to say, I have no idea. But the tears stopped. I sat baffled for a minute, wondering how this creepy, long-haired, messenger had weaseled his way into my head. I took a deep breath and leaned over him to the passenger automatic seat controls, pressing the seat all the way back so that I’d fit on the floor board in front of him. I reclined the back slightly, and stared into his eyes wondering what had made him like this. Hard and cold.

I hiked up my skirt and straddled him, realizing he’d gone soft and not wanting to suck on him any longer than necessary. I watched the concrete expression on his face disappear as I unbuttoned my blouse to reveal the pretty, hot pink bra that Samuel always loved. He lifted his fingers to skim over the fabric and I threw my head back at the thrill of his touch.

I started to rationalize that my attraction to him was simply a defense mechanism. My mind couldn’t handle the thought of this creep touching me so it tricked me into wanting it.

“Samuel likes to leave his mark, doesn’t he?” He breathing, his fingers trailing the bite marks he had given me earlier. Drawing my attention to them set my mind spinning again. With guilt, humiliation, and fear mixing with his touch and creating a heady cocktail swimming through me.

He pulled down the lace exposing my nipple, and immediately licked and sucked, while groaning his love of tits. I really didn’t want it to, but it felt so, fucking, good that I sighed and arched against his mouth.

I was grinding against his growing cock in no time. He felt very big, and I contemplated just asking if I could ride it. But after the ridiculous fucking that Samuel had just administered, hours before, I was pretty sure it would hurt. Maybe, the combination of pain and pleasure would be heavenly…

His fingers slid between us and under my panties. He teased my clit like he’d done it a thousand times before. I squeezed my eyes closed tightly, trying to pretend he was my Samuel. “Stop it, little girl. Look at me, and don’t pretend it’s anybody but me.”

My eyes flew open, and I couldn’t understand how he knew, how he was so deep into my mind that he could sense my thoughts. The look on his face erased everything, though. He was in ecstasy, making me writhe against his long, thin fingers and his obviously large cock, straining against his khakis. He slipped his other hand into my hair and pulled my lips to his.

I didn’t want to kiss him, but his tongue was like warm sugar and I couldn’t help but allow mine to dance with his. He bit my lip and breathed my air, all while his fingers grew more and more determined, kneading my clit until my climax was eminent.

“Fuck… No, I don’t want to cum with you!” I shouted, trying to wriggle away, but he didn’t let me. He rubbed and circled some more before whispering against my lips, “You’re a terrible liar, Lex. Fucking cum. Cum now.”

His words did me in, and I felt that luscious release. Wave after wave of unwanted bliss. He didn’t stop until I collapsed against his shoulder. His mouth found my neck, kissing softly up to my ear, “I want to fuck you.”

I’m not sure how, but within moments, he had freed his erection and ripped my panties clean off of me. He lifted me and I tried to brace myself against his shoulders, but my guesses had been completely accurate.

He was unbelievably big. It hurt like fucking hell. But it was some slice of heaven.

He was at least kind enough to be slow. As I gingerly allowed myself to be filled by him, lowering onto his massive cock, stretching me beyond what I believed possible, he stroked my cheek with one hand and gripped my ass with the other.

He whispered ‘good girl’, and ‘take it slow’. When I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he kissed me again and slid his fingers back to my magic button. I clenched, taking him in, deeper. I groaned, feeling him firmly planted against my bruised core, but each stroke of his fingers sent jolts through me, as though he were strumming an electric bass.

It was too much. My body hurt, having been wrecked, hours before. It should’ve rejected all pleasure. Instead, I was on fire. I needed to ride him and feel every, nasty inch of him moving in and out of me.

I began to rock and he groaned, rewarding me by slipping his other hand behind me and between my cheeks, pressing against my asshole. ”Yes, please!” I hissed, and he pushed his finger inside me.

I tossed my hair back and bounced up and down slowly until I felt my body making room for his complete length. When I felt myself sheathing him completely, I came again, hard. I bore down against the pressure, and sure enough, I rained all over him.

”Oh you nasty slut, did you just squirt all over me? Damn, you are as amazing as I thought you’d be! You must like being watched too…”

My eyes flew up, and I turned to see a short, bald garage security guy standing in the parking space twenty feet from my car, staring at us, through the passenger window. He was rubbing his crotch through his pants and it looked as though he’d been there a while.

Before the blush even filled my cheeks, Duane grabbed my hair and made me look at him. “Give him a good show, baby.”

He pulled me off, and pushed me to the floor while throwing open the car door to give the guard perfect line of sight to what Duane was about to make me do. ”Suck my cock, real good, and if our voyeur cums, I won’t sell you to anyone. You’ll be mine to have as I please, for the next few months, but I won’t make you be with anyone else.” I stared at him, stunned, until he added. “Hurry, Lex. You’ve only got till the sun comes up.”

I looked to the east side of the garage, behind the guard, and saw the sky brightening, quickly. I looked back at him, I could feel my cheeks flaming. As if oral sex with a massively endowed man weren’t hard enough, but he expected me to do it well AND look hot enough doing it to make some stranger blow his load? Just from watching?

I glanced back out at the guard and locked eyes with him. He licked his lips and nodded, hearing our conversation. God damn, this was humiliating. Really fucking hot, but… At least he wasn’t making me suck a strangers dick.

I grabbed Duane’s cock with both hands and started licking it like it was an ice cream cone. I added lots of moans, and gasps for the benefit of the guard. He had unzipped and was stroking his little thing like mad.

When I took the tip of Duane’s cock in my mouth, I looked up at him, and wondered why he’d ever need to blackmail anyone to get sex.

I wouldn’t have admitted it, but he was delicious. And the way he watched me… Fucking me with his eyes while I fucked him with my mouth. I completely forgot about the deal, and Sammy. I wanted his cum more than anything on earth. And being watched only made me want it more.

He grabbed the sides of my head, and started bucking his hips. I used my fingers to make up for three lack of depth to my throat. I tried hard not to gag, but was very glad my stomach was empty, because I was unsuccessful.

My saliva was dripping down my chin to his sack. I swirled my tongue around and around and pushed myself onto him further and further. I jerked the base of his cock and stroked his balls, rubbing my slippery spit back to his ass.

He started groaning and grunting, so I could tell he liked it. I heard our voyeur mutter, “Fuck, yes…” but didn’t look to see if he was already done. Duane spread his legs further and I slid my finger between his cheeks. “God damn…” He whispered, and I pushed against his ass. “God fucking damn.”

He let go of my head, and I sucked hard on the tip of his dick while I pushed my finger into his ass. In mere moments he was moaning and rocking, bucking and writhing, hissing and cursing.

I felt his cock throbbing against my tongue. I pressed my lips around him and used my hand to pump his shaft while I rotated my finger in his ass with the other hand. I could feel him resisting, which only made me more determined.

He was shaking, trembling, and growling, until he finally let go. Oh my, did he let go. Pulse after pulse of his sweet, thick semen shot down my throat. I sucked every drop and kept sucking until he stopped shaking.

He started laughing which startled me. I looked up at him and followed his line of sight while sitting back on my heels.

The guard was trying hard to clean his cum off the pavement with his handkerchief.

I didn’t think it was funny at all. Suddenly, I was even more humiliated. More than I’d ever felt in my life. I pulled myself out of the car, straightened my clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from the back seat.

“Please get out and let me go home now.” I couldn’t look at him or the guard. All I felt was guilt and regret.

He stood, pulling up his pants and staring at me, “It made you hot, before. Now, what? You feel violated?”

He stepped toward me, but I backed up. I was rubbing my lips, and felt like I would cry at any moment. He grabbed my hand, gently and took another step toward me. And when I looked up, into his eyes, there was no sneer at all.

“You did so good, little girl. Don’t be sad,” his gentle voice soothed me, but was confusing. “Come here,” he whispered and pulled me into his arms. “Good girl. You are amazing.” He stroked my hair and back.

Without thinking, I laid my head on his chest. I was so tired. “What is this, Duane? Why do you act like a prick when you have this other side? This guy could get any girl he wanted?”

“I’ve tried. But the asshole always shows up. The dog always gets loose. … And I like it. I feel powerful.”

I glanced up, expecting the leer, but found a weak smile instead. “Sweetness isn’t my strong suit.” He took a deep breath and held me out at arms length.

“Take me home with you, I’ll get you out of work, make you breakfast and, after you’ve slept, we’ll fuck the rest of the day away.” I couldn’t tell if he was asking me… Or telling me.

I looked down trying to decide what to say. “I don’t think I can fuck any more today… Physically…”

He laughed and I smiled up at him, before giggling a bit. “What would I tell Sammy? How would you get me out of work?”

“Oh, Lex,” he chuckled. “The things people never expect about the mail guy… I’ve got my ways. And Samuel won’t have a clue.”

As he folded me into the passenger seat, I contemplated what that meant…

And as he closed the door, and walked around to the drivers seat, I realized he had a whole story. Something gave him power that I didn’t understand. He didn’t just own my body that night, he ruled my mind.

But as he slipped into the car and grabbed the keys from my hand, he looked at me… With that leer. And everything evaporated. Again.

I was aroused all over again…

Humiliated by it…

And 100% his. Because of this power I didn’t understand.

In the car by kareemnour2000 via DeviantArt.com

That beard

I want to rub my cheeks against it.

I want to feel it tickle my neck, scratch my collarbone, caress my breasts, and torment my soft thighs.

I want to coat it with my liquid lust while you lick and suck your favorite, messy drink.

Once you’ve had your fill, and fill me with you, I want to hold your face against my breasts while you sleep, and run my fingers through that sexy beard, smelling myself within the strands.

When you wake, I’ll ask you to come with me. I’ll take your hand and lead you, giggling, into the bathroom. You’ll ask why it’s funny. I’ll turn and give you a shy smile. You’ll chuckle, and wrap your arms around me.

I’ll peel you off me, whispering my wishes against your beard. You’ll laugh again.

Whatever you want, little girl.

I’ll sit you down and wrap a towel around your shoulders. I’ll fill the sink with warm water before pushing you back against the vanity and straddling your lap.

I’ll wriggle, just slightly, luxuriating in the feel of your growing erection against my naked pussy.

I’ll lean, to dip my fingers in the water, and your lips will find my nipple.

I’ll moan, and wriggle some more, asking you to stop, to wait. Because I want this. And you need it

I’ll rub my dripping hands over your face and up into your neatly trimmed hair.

I’ll soak a face cloth in the warm water, and follow the path again and again. Until you are sighing, eyes closed, head tilting further back.

I’ll rub my favorite soap, the one that smells like cherries and amaretto, between my fingers until the delicious foam fills my hands.

I’ll rub it, gently, into your cheeks, chin and neck, your amazing beard building lather as I massage your sweet face in tiny circles.

When I scoop off some of the bubbles, and rub them into your hair, I’ll scratch your scalp lightly, and you’ll let out a soft moan, enticing me to persist.

Damn, those magic fingers…

I’ll add a bit more water, and caress my way back to your incredible beard. Circling, adoring, pleasuring. My hips will mimic my hands and soon, we’ll both be moaning.

I’ll rise up, and you’ll position your glorious manhood at my opening, so that I might sink down, sheathing you in that slippery heat that you create so easily.

Dipping the cloth in the warm water again, I’ll clench around you, giving a different massage. The kind that makes you growl and groan.

I’ll gently wipe the lather, rinsing and repeating until the suds disappear. Then, raising slightly to empty and fill the sink again, I’ll stroke you with your pussy, adding pleasure to pleasure, and then some.

After another few gentle swipes with the cloth, I’ll lean in to kiss your gorgeous lips, rocking against you, creating a rhythm between our bodies that will no longer be ignored.

I’ll direct my kisses across your jaw, burying my nose in your now, sweet smelling beard. I’ll nibble your ear and whisper so softly, that I want your cum… That I want to taste you.

I’ll climb off your lap, running my fingers once more through your yummy beard, and drop to my knees in front of you.

Between your legs, I’ll clean my salty, creaminess off of your amazing cock.

I’ll hum as your moans send my fingers to explore my own pleasure.

I’ll stroke your shaft while my tongue explores further south, tasting you in the most intimate ways imaginable.

I’ll slide my lips back up to the tip, taking the head in my mouth and swirling my tongue around and around until you grab my hair and push yourself deep into my throat.

I’ll suck and gag and swallow and gasp.

I’ll love every second of you fucking my mouth while I rub my engorged clit furiously.

When I feel your cock throbbing, I’ll pull back and stick out my tongue, wanting to feel those ropes of hot, white, cum, not just in my mouth, but on my face and breasts.

I’ll stroke you until the pulsing stops, and then I’ll scoop up your delicious elixir with my fingers, and lick them clean.

And when I’m done, and you smile down at me, telling me that I’m wonderful, I’ll giggle again, and give you that sweet, shy smile.

Erotic beard washing… Another talent, sweet girl.

Oh, yes. That beard.

And, I’ll do it again, whenever you want me to.

—

In case you missed it, this was inspired by an interesting search term that I posted about the other day. Yep. Erotic beard washing… Who knew?

Rag Doll

You told me to dress up, make myself look different. At first I thought Barbie Doll, but I could never be her. Of course, I am your Baby Doll, so a pretty, baby doll dress was a clear choice.

I sit at the table and wait, in my sweet little dress, with a satin sash and ribbons in my hair. I look very pretty, but not at all like a real baby doll.

My full, round breasts are barely contained by the pale blue fabric above the fuschia sash, and my legs are coated in white silk and capped in pink patent leather stilettos. My hair is barely restrained in twin braids that hang over each shoulder.

I’m already wet with anticipation, my thighs dampening above the lacy tops of my nylons due to my lack of panties.

I check my makeup in a spoon and nervously fidget with the napkin on my plate.

Then I feel the air change. That electricity that flows between us doesn’t need touch, it just snaps through the air like lightening.

I feel my nipples harden and swallow as you step behind me and lean down, gripping the braid over one shoulder so that you can whisper in the opposite ear.

“Hi, baby doll… You look good enough to eat!”

Oh your voice, when you speak with the power and command that bubbles from inside but that you only allow out in small doses… That thick, deep voice that melts over me and makes me want to rub you into my skin…

I could cum, just hearing your voice.

“I love your shoes, little girl. You like playing dress up?”

I turn as you stand and I smile up at you, I can feel color filling my cheeks. You chuckle down at me and extend your hand.

I take it, and rise, before you slowly turn me in order to take me completely in. I know what I look like and am pleased to find your sad eyes dancing with delight.

“My pretty girl…” you growl, pulling me against you, where I feel how much you like my attire, pressed hard and thick against my hip.

Your lips find my neck while your fingers pull at the cap sleeve of the dress to reveal my shoulder. You sink your teeth into that special spot that makes me convulse then back me against the wall behind me.

You step away and sit in the chair I just vacated, leaning back to look at me. “Touch yourself, sweet girl.”

I grin at you, devilishly before performing the masturbatory seduction I’ve imagined dozens of times. For you, my delicious Daddy.

I lift my fingers to my lips, coyly before letting them trail down my throat and collarbone. Dipping them into the strained fabric barely covering my breasts and pulling down slightly to expose one of my thick, pink points.

I pinch and twist it, gasping and closing my eyes, while my other hand snakes it’s way under my dress. I stroke my dripping lips, still hidden from you, beneath my skirt and moan softly, making you groan and rub your hard cock through your jeans.

I drop my other hand from my breast to lift the hem so you can see. You take in a sharp breath at the sight of my pretty fingers kneading my smooth pussy. As I push my fingers through my slit and into my quivering cunt, you groan again, making my knees weak.

“No panties, baby doll?” You whisper, as you kneel in front of me.

I shake my head, tossing my braids slightly as you grab my fingers and guide them into your mouth.

“Mmmmmm,” you rumble, sucking off my silkiness before guiding my hands to hold the hem of my dress at my hips. “Sugar and spice, sweet girl.”

I moan before you even touch me, your presence is like liquid heat. I steel my knees to hold me up and watch you stroke a single finger over my swollen clit, peeking from between my puffy lips.

Your touch nearly makes me explode. I hum when I feel your breath and watch you touch your lips to me. Your tongue presses flat while your finger slips inside. I’m shuddering and clenching immediately until you growl, softly, “If you cum before I give you permission, I’ll send you straight to bed.”

I whimper and force myself to settle, looking down into your pale eyes. My heart races as your tongue returns to my clit, circling softly, and you add another finger inside me. My whole body shakes with my restraint as I hold myself back from the edge of bliss.

I’m not sure how long I manage to fight the incredible pleasure pushing me to soar, but at some point I realize you are now standing, facing me, working me with your magic fingers and rumbling, low, from deep in your chest.

I open my eyes to find yours flashing, lips curled in a delicious grin and slick with my juices. “Such a sweet girl, do you want to cum?”

I nod, panting and very close to complete desperation when you lean in until our lips touch. “Cum,” you growl, increasing the intensity of your fingers.

I release my dress and cling to your shoulders, knowing my knees will not hold. You wrap your arm around my waist and kiss me while I come apart and freefall into the waves of orgasm. You wring me out thoroughly until I’m bucking and squirming to break free.

But still, you won’t relent. Your fingers are merciless and your tongue demands to dance with mine, stealing my breath, my will and my strength. You turn us both and release my waist, to slide the china off the end of the table to the floor. I gasp, as it shatters, but you only smile that beastly grin against my mouth before kissing me again.

You guide me onto the table and cover my body with yours, but your fingers continue their play inside me. I’m panting, each time you let me up for air, and grinding against you feverishly, tiptoeing the edge of oblivion yet again.

“Oh, please Sir, may I cum again?” I plead against your mouth and you nod before your tongue darts between my lips, once more. Your hunger ignites the blast within me and I convulse, yet again, muscles firing and liquid desire dripping between my thighs to the surface below. I don’t know if it was ejaculate, of if I’m just that wet, but you don’t quit.

“Please, fuck me Daddy, please!” I beg, in the midst of your kiss. You roll off of me to stand, staring down at me, and I can tell that I’m in trouble by the gleam in your eye.

“How many times have you cum, little girl?” Your voice is so low and gravelly, I almost can’t answer as your fingers continue their torment, teasing and light, at the moment.

“…I …Twice, Sir.” I breathe, panting and writhing against your hand, trying to get just a bit more.

Then you jam your fingers inside of me, spreading my thighs and palming my clit. My eyes roll back in my head until I hear you rumble, “Don’t stop it, just let them go… I want them all, baby.”

Your free hand finds my throat, and I climax again. You suck and bite my nipples and I have another. You hum, and growl and tell me what a good girl I am, and take one more.

You tear orgasms out of me as though it were your purpose in life. I can barely breathe and have no idea what has happened by the time you climb on top of me again, undressed, crushing me with your kiss, then pinching and twisting my nipples.

I open my eyes to see you pulling my legs up and staring down at me. You practically roar as you slide inside of me, and within moments, you are drilling into me like a wild animal. I’m too weak and senseless to brace myself, which you quickly realize and grasp my throat to hold me steady.

The mind blowing combination sends me up over the edge in mere moments, and as you continue fucking me with the might of some crazed beast, I can’t tell where one orgasm stops and another begins. I start gasping, which causes you to release my neck, and instead brace yourself by gripping my tits, tightly against my own chest, which still leaves me breathless, but with more pain.

You let go, and I think I have another orgasm. You wrap yourself around me, bucking your hips into me so hard, I think I just might break open, but I cum again, anyway. Flopping about as if there were no bones inside my limbs.

You pull back and I open my eyes to see you grinning down at me, “My beautiful rag doll…”

Your ownership of me is far more than is needed to send me into a million pieces, one last time. And this one grips you fiercely, milking your own climax free, and sending your seed in long, shaking pulses deep inside me.

When you collapse on top of me, I somehow remain conscious long enough to thank you.

You lean on your elbows over me, pulling the ribbons from my hair and snaking your magical fingers through the waves. “Sweet girl, my precious baby doll…” You kiss me with the tender sweetness that coats that inner wildness of yours, that keeps the beast docile and in check.

Oh, how I love those sticky layers of yours, Sir.

And how I love being your rag doll.

The Cabin

On a sweet, autumn evening, she stepped into the cabin feeling all of the amazing nostalgia of having enjoyed countless, lazy weeks there… But, she’d never actually been there before.

The smell from the old, worn wood, the large fireplace which had several logs burning, and the vague but pungent scent of the trees, shedding their leaves outside, filled her with olfactory memories of experiences she didn’t really remember. The contrasting glow within the interior against the soft light of the sunset filtering through the trees made her eyes dance around, as though she was witnessing the spirits of moments long past.

After taking in as much as she could, her eyes finally landed on her dark Prince, standing in the kitchen and staring at her as though she were a spirit herself. She smiled at him, cocking her head to one side, the way she often did, and basked in his gaze as he made his way toward her.

His eyes glittered with that Dominant fire that made her melt into her panties. His lips curled up as though he was reading her mind, and when he stopped within mere inches of her, she felt the heat radiating from him. Her knees nearly gave as his fingers rose to stroke her cheek.

A low rumble from his throat let her know her beast was hungry for his fill.

His finger tips skimmed over her lips and down her throat where he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her against him, crushing her lips with his. Her eyes closed until she heard him growl and felt him pull away.

When she opened them, his hand slid back into her thick, silky hair, pulling her head sharply back, exposing her neck. He growled again, near her ear, before rubbing his lovely beard across her neck, nipping and sucking to her moans and whimpers.

Her knees were weakening, and he must have sensed it, because he slid his leg between hers and used his free hand to grip her bottom, meshing their bodies together firmly. She could feel his erection, and suddenly could not control her own desire.

Her hands lifted, gripping his face and pulling him into a deep kiss. Her tongue searched his mouth feverishly and her hands stroked down his body wildly. Like a bitch in heat, her lust could not be contained.

Her animalistic passion only served to ignite his further, and he began savagely tearing her free from her clothes. Once she stood in front of him in just her panties, he stepped back to take in his sweet, curvy girl. Humming, deeply before finally giving voice to their excitement.

“My lovely pet, do you recognize this place? Do you feel the connection?” His voice washed over her in that warm, intoxicating way, like sipping sweet brandy or receiving a warm, oil massage. She nearly couldn’t answer him, but saw from the power in his glare that she was expected to.

“I feel it, Sir,” she whispered breathlessly, “but I don’t understand it.”

He chuckled softly before stepping against her and slipping his fingers into her soaking wet panties. “It’s strange, isn’t it, to know a place so well, having never been?” His lips slid across her chest before he lifted one of her heavy breasts so that he might take a bite.

She cried out and watched as her gentle beast licked, sucked and nipped at her thick nipples until they were red and tender. His growls grew more and more intense until they were almost the frightening roars of a desperate beast.

When he suddenly stood back and ordered her to lay over the ottoman in front of the fire, she thought perhaps she’d done something wrong, but then remembered that she’d asked him to mark her, to solidify her submission.

She watched the flames in the fireplace licking each other, dancing in exotic ways, and nearly became hypnotized by their performance. When she finally felt him behind her, she pleaded with him softly to speak again, to tell her a story.

As he stroked her back and buttocks, pulling her panties gently down her hips and thighs, he began to tell her a lovely tale, of a girl, vacationing in the woods, but being captured and held prisoner by a mighty wolfman. The story seemed familiar, and haunting, just like the cabin. Just like him.

He knelt next to her, his breath against her ear and his beard tickling her cheek. “Now, enough stalling, little girl,” he rumbled, before standing and removing his belt. “You wanted my marks, are you ready for them, Pet?”

She inhaled a long breath, gripping the edge of the cushion before sighing, “Yes, Sir. Please…”

He waited, she guessed, for her to relax, and when the tension finally left her shoulders, the first blow landed on her left cheek. The belt was folded, but his strength was incredible. By the tenth strike, tears pricked at her eyes, but her body was filled with a warmth that nothing could compare to.

He dropped to his knees behind her, releasing the belt, but not quite finished with her welted backside. Soothing her, then spanking her, she heard the beast bubbling again under the surface. She was so excited and delighted, she couldn’t help herself.

“Please, come out and play, sweet beast! Come enjoy your toy!”

She took in the feral smile of her lover as he growled at her and began tearing off his own clothes.

He lifted her from the ottoman and pulled her against him, knee to knee, breast to chest. He inhaled her sweetly scented hair, gripping her neck tightly before releasing another growl against her ear.

What followed was nearly indescribable. He pushed her to the carpet and devoured her, bathing her with his tongue and whimpering at her sweetness. His teeth sunk into her soft flesh, forcing yelps of pain and groans of pleasure to pour from her lips, unabated. His hands seemed to find themselves everywhere, and it wasn’t long before she was begging for release.

His affirming roar sent her over the edge of oblivion, the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced coursed through her body. Her mind lost, she could only ride the waves and aftershocks until she felt him hovering above her. His lips, slick with her liquid desire, his beard filled with her sweet and musky scent, and his eyes filled with carnal need.

He lifted her arms above her head and covered her body with his own, his steel desire pressed firmly against her thighs. He growled again, kissing her hard then biting her lips. Her moans and whimpers, filled the room as she attempted to separate her legs to invite him inside her molten, wetness. He chuckled, locking her down and grinning with almost frightening satisfaction at his ability to trap her and force her to submit to his will… not her own.

Once she was still, he released her wrists. “Keep them there,” he rumbled before separating her legs and rising to his knees between them. He stared down at her, growling once again, before using his fingers to torture her nipples again only long enough to make her whine.

He lifted her feet to his shoulders and with no warning pierced her dripping slit with his rock hard cock. She cried out from the shock of it, but kept her wrists locked above her head. She stared into his eyes as he remained there, sheathed in her velvety folds, clenching around him in her desire for more. She saw the flash, and felt the change in him, as he unlocked the chains that kept the beast in check.

And all was lost. The atmosphere in the room changed. The darkness came alive with the passion of inhuman fucking. He hammered into her, drilling through her, shifting her on the carpet until her head slammed into the ottoman. She gasped and panted, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control over her body, but it was useless.

When she stopped fighting, and succumbed to her powerful beast, she came, again, this time exploding with such ferocity, that it was she who roared, quaking the walls and silencing the spirits surrounding them.

He lifted her, like a rag doll, and held her against his chest. When she finally lifted her arms around him, he pulled her back slightly, grinning at her wasted expression. “My sweet bitch, I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

His intoxicating voice fed her the energy to continue, bringing a smile to her lips just before he kissed her again, with the demand that forced her to her knees, clinging to his shoulders before finally letting go again, submitting her lips… her body… her mind… and her heart to him completely.

He felt the change and growled into her mouth, “Yes, my sweet slut… The power you feed me is like nothing I ever could have imagined.”

He flipped her and took her again, but this time, piercing her ass, one hand gripping her hair and the fingers of the other digging into her ample hip. The pain was intense, but it was soon washed away with the incredible perfection of being his toy. This is what she’d wanted. What she’d always wanted, but could’ve never known.

This is what he’d wanted. What he’d always wanted. But never let himself feel.

The spirits swirled around them, delighted in their mating, and drunk from the success of bringing these creatures together, at last.

As they became fully aware of the extra presence surrounding them, it only fueled their wanton need for completion. Her beast wrapped himself around her, grunting and seeking her final release with his fingers. She bore the weight of both of them, somehow, as the pleasure he sought fired, deep inside of her, like electricity.

She almost collapsed as it seared through her body before lifting her beyond any experience she’d had in her life. But then, as she felt her Love’s climax, pulsing and filling her with his seed, the experience exploded into something ethereal.

As they fell, he spun her and pulled her into his chest. Their breathing slowed as they stared into one anothers eyes, unsure if they should speak about what was around them.

He pulled her closer so that his lips were pressed against her ear, “Are you making this magic, My Love?”

“No Sir. It is magic for both of us. From both of us.”

As he pulled back and stared into her eyes, she wondered if perhaps she was being a silly, little girl. Believing in magic and spirits. Feeling the reality of that unexpected extra presence in a way that she simply could not explain.

But what she saw in his eyes was the explanation. There were not words to accompany it. And the warmth of that which surrounded them embraced them tightly, for a moment, before disappearing and leaving them with only their own warmth.

“It’s gone, Sweet girl.” His voice lacked the confidence of his words.

She looked around the room, at the fire still dancing, but smaller, at the walls which had seemed alive earlier, and inhaled the amazing scent of that cabin, now mixed with the pleasant fragrance of their love. She smiled and brushed his handsome beard with the tips of her fingers.

“I don’t think so, Sir. I think it will always be here, between us… within us.”

As his lips brushed hers, and that lovely rumble filled his chest again, she sighed and absorbed the moment. “Would you tell me another story, Sir? I want to be wrapped in your voice all night.

“Forever.”

The Beast

You stand and stare at me, I can’t take my eyes off you. Up on your desk, ass in the air, cheek pressed against the edge. You’ve lashed my wrists to my ankles with cord, my knees folded beneath me, breast smashed into the cold wood. You stand and stare. Thinking. Deciding. Smirking.

Your fingers skim over my face, then across my shoulder and down my back. I sigh and tremble as they reach my bottom. I wish for a moment that I could climb inside your mind, but then, those lovely fingers dip between my thighs, sliding over my swollen, sensitive folds. I lose my thoughts, almost completely.

You pull away too quickly, and I whimper at the loss. “Shhh, kitten,” you breathe, suddenly right next to my ear. I feel your breath on my neck and your beard on my shoulder, and I have to force myself to be still, despite the tremors that run down my spine.

“My Pet, you look so lovely like this, I may have to leave you here as decoration. But first, I should color that beautiful derrière.” Sliding a long, acrylic ruler out of your desk, you skim the edge over my skin. I almost beg for you to use your hand, but stop myself, because I don’t care what you use. Just hit me.

The first crack of the plastic on my flesh barely hurts, but as you situate yourself and begin layering the strikes, the warmth and sting grows so that I’m flinching with each blow. It’s still not quite pain, it is incredible. My breathing is erratic but I haven’t made a sound, so you lean down, brushing your fingers over my lips forcing my tongue to peak out to taste them.

You smile at my desperation, “My pet, you are a dripping mess. I’m tempted to clean you up with MY tongue!” I convulse, but close my mouth to keep myself from begging you, knowing that would never work. You chuckle and let your hands glide down my back again.

Setting the ruler aside, you let your palms wander, over my skin, making every nerve ending in my body stand at attention. One hand reaches beneath my belly to stroke upward, between my breasts, as I try to rise slightly so that I may feel your fingers on my nipples. But your other hand keeps me pressed against the table as I quiver and clench, desperate for your attention in places you are vehemently ignoring.

The tease is the part I hate to love and love to hate. It kills me and makes me want, even more, to plead with you, to lick me, touch me, suck me, and fuck me. But you told your kitten to be quiet, so I must.

Instead, I pant and writhe. I try to will you with my mind. I think about being inside of yours and controlling your actions. Alas, I’m not that powerful.

By the time your hands reach my backside again, I’m arching and whimpering, no longer able to keep myself from making those little noises you appreciate so much. I hear your rumble, as your fingers finally slip between my legs again, and you feel the incredible wetness you always pull from me. Suddenly, your tongue replaces your fingers, and I feel that I’m already perched on the edge of delirium.

“Yessss,” I hiss, and am rewarding with the vibration of your growl against my clit. You are lapping away at me like a puppy licking a steak, and I realize I may not be able to hold back, when you slide a finger up through my juices and into my ass. “Oh, God, Sir, Please! May I cum please, Sir, please!”

“Not yet, sweet girl, not yet,” you whisper, before your tongue slips back down to tease my throbbing clit. I whine and work my hips, tightening my muscles to keep the waves inside. They threaten to explode, but whatever thin force field I am able to contain them in works. You slow your assault, sensing my determination to obey you, but then bite my ass and it’s almost too much.

“Please…..” I breathe, arching up, trying to pull away, but this only earns me a smack followed by three fingers thrusting into me wildly.

Your fingers work at me until I feel another slide into my ass and I cry out at the pain of the added fullness. “I can’t stop it…. I can’t stop it, Sir…”

I push my body past its breaking point, trying, and failing, to prevent my climax from leaking out of me like water bubbling through a clogged water fountain. “Don’t do it,” you roar, but that only acts as a catalyst. My soft climax suddenly bursts open into a gushing, rocketing explosion. I scream, as it tears through me, and groan as it washes over me, raining aftershocks throughout my system like sparks from some massive electrical fire.

Suddenly, you are on the desk with me, stretching me open with your amazing cock, and hammering away at me like an enraged beast. “More, bitch, or I’ll rip them out of you while you scream and beg me to stop!” You sound like an animal, and my body simply does what it’s told.

As you ram away at my cervix, like you’re trying to drill into my womb, I begin to convulse again, the walls of my sweet, hot cunt gripping you to the point you cry out and pull away. You flip me, painfully, onto my back, my limbs still tied and my body still jolting from my last orgasm.

You lift my ass and position your huge cock at my puckered, second opening, smiling at me as you start to push inside. It’s more than I’m prepared for, the pain is unbelievable, and I beg you to stop. Pressing your thumb into my slit, you begin working me back up, while the head of your dick rests just inside my ass. I bear down against you, relaxing and opening, and you begin pushing further inside.

“Fuck, please Sir, I can’t…”
“You can, and you will, my pet. You must.”

I look into your eyes, and find the determination that you always somehow feed me, in your control, command, and Dominance. I breathe and relax. You stroke my clit until I’m spinning, once again, and press into me. I’m gasping, but pushing the pain away, concentrating on the pleasure and on pleasing you. Letting you fill me in this way I’ve never truly imagined.

You groan as you force your way in and the look on your face nearly sends me to the moon. “Yes, Sir, Please… More!” You look down at me and work my pussy with both hands until I’m screaming and cumming again.

If I weren’t tied, I may have floated to the ceiling, but it is mere moments before the pain returns as you begin fucking my tight ass. Your fingers continue running over my clit until you are lost in the onslaught of your own orgasm. You cum so hard and so much, I think I can actually feel it leaking out, around you.

As you stop, you look down at me, breathless, and I desperately wish you would kiss me. But before you do, the beast inside of you growls, “One more, slut.”

You slide out of my ass and ram three fingers deep into my pussy, pushing against my G spot while your other hand concentrates on my abused, little button. My body is like your instrument, and just as I think I’m going to pop, your hand leaves my clit and wraps tightly around my throat. “Cum for me, and I’ll let you breathe again, Pet.”

Gasping and writhing, I realize how much I’ve wanted this for so long. The orgasm that rocks me seems to actually start in my throat, and as my pussy clenches your fingers and you release me, the flood of oxygen only serves to magnify the results. I’m shaking so hard, you wrap your fingers around my neck again, not cutting off my air this time, but holding me steady, and I ride two minutes of pure bliss.

When you finally release me, and begin untying the cords, I want your lips on mine so badly, I lose all sense of restraint. “Please kiss me, Sir, pretty, pretty, please, with a fucking cherry on top!” You smile at me and chuckle, pulling loose the last knot and stretching me out before lying on top of me and capturing my face between your hands.

“My sweet, little mess.” Your lips hover over mine and I’m breathless, waiting for the contact. When you finally relent, our mouths mold together like some incredible, soft and languid puzzle. Your tongues dances around mine and I pull my arms and legs around you, surrounding you and filling you the only way I possibly can.

I feel myself slip into your mind, and I see myself there. As I’ve always been. Beautiful and serene, my skin glitters with light and magic. My hair flows around me like spun silk and butterfly wings. My eyes twinkle in all of their turquoise splendor. And I sit, softly stroking the beast, who I cannot see clearly. Taming him, …for the moment. “I’m the reason he exists. He will not harm me. But he will try. And you will love it.”

I stare at her. At myself. At you, and your beast. And as I slip back out of your mind, and you stare into my real eyes, I feel joy I’ve never known. “Please don’t ever stop trying,” I whisper. “I adore that dark, dangerous beast.”

White Beast by Eibo Jeddah via DeviantArt.com

The Man

I tried something different, a little Horror Erotica, with the help of the wonderful Eric Keys. I intended to write sexy, supernatural gore, but it still ended up being about submission!! If you choose to read it, (PLEASE NOTE: This is not a story for the queasy, it is bloody, violent, and gruesome in parts, especially Mr. Keys’ contribution) I hope you enjoy it and that it doesn’t give you many nightmares!! (Thank you, Sir! It was a pleasure writing with you!!)

(This story was originally reblogged from Eric’s site, which he has since deleted. You may, however, find his current work at bloodglorygrace.wordpress.com.)

Sexy Mel of pushingourlimits wrote the following story. I think it is full of dark, sexy goodness. She honored me by allowing me to write one scene. See if you can guess which one it is.

And without further ado, Mel’s story:

Title:The Man

Word Count: 6,300 (approx.)

Mature content including depictions of sex, violence, blood, gore, other bodily fluids and a bit of philosophy.

I stood waiting on his order, this incredible smelling man sitting at my counter. I’d worked a double the last two days, and was dog tired during this final hour before a much deserved two days off.

But when this fellow strutted in at closing time, I didn’t even flinch. I’m not sure what cologne he was wearing, but it caught my breath before I even saw him, and I wouldn’t have cared if he was ugly as sin. He smelled like heaven rolled in lust and dipped in sex. When I turned to see him, my breath caught again.

His face wasn’t particularly special, but there was something about him, about his eyes. Something dark. Just looking at him made my temperature rise.

“Is there anything sweet, you might suggest, Miss?” Oh Lord, his voice was even better than his smell. Thick and deep, it melted over me just like chocolate.

“I could,” I winked brazenly, “but I don’t get off until you leave, Sir.” I smiled, salaciously, before wishing I’d checked my reflection before he’d sat down.

He smirked and glanced at my eyes, before doing a full once over of my entire body. For a moment, I considered turning for him, so he could get the full effect.

“Well, sweet Charlene, perhaps we could remedy that by closing up, and skipping my order all together?”

I have no idea what the story was with this guy, but he had my number. I hadn’t noticed him look at my nametag, but thought he must’ve while he ogled me. I smoothed my hand over my hair, twisting my ponytail down over my shoulder. Why do women always touch themselves when they are aroused? I couldn’t help it though, it was as if something was controlling me.

I walked, automatically to the front door, spun the sign and flipped the lock wondering what the hell I was getting myself into. But when I turned, he was right behind me. I didn’t jump though, because I knew it. It was the strangest sensation I’d ever had. Accompanied by the feeling that I had to let him get close to me. I thought to myself, I don’t even know this man’s name!

“My name is not important, as I actually go by many.”

Sweet Jesus, this man was reading my mind.

“I am not far from Jesus, precious girl, but you wouldn’t understand much of that if I tried to explain. So instead, why don’t you just agree that you would like to play. You and I could have a little fun this evening.”

My mind was spinning, as he stepped against me, but I didn’t back away. I pressed forward, feeling the incredible heat of him, breathing his intoxicating smell, and staring into his hypnotizing eyes.

“What are you doing to me?” The question left my lips before I even thought it.

“If you agree, I am going to give you immense pleasure… possibly mixed with the vicious pain you secretly desire. Ah yes, open that up to me so I can see what it is you truly want. You like to be beaten, slapped… perhaps cut? Oh, sweet little girl, we will have a ball, you and I.”

“Why should I trust you?” My voice was now shaky with need, as whatever hold he had on me got stronger every moment our bodies touched.

“You probably shouldn’t. But my pleasure comes from your pleasure. I will only hurt you as much as you crave to be hurt. Your arousal makes me stronger, do you feel it?”

“Yes, Sir. …Yes, I feel it?” My eyes closed and his warmth wrapped around me like liquid fire, sliding around hidden peaks and between secret folds. But I suddenly became very frightened at the thought of what kind of creature could do such things.

“Don’t be frightened, just feel it. It’s a taste of the pleasure I could bring you if you agree.”

“But…. But what’s the price. There must be a cost. Are you going to take my soul?” His laugh filled the shop and my ears with the most incredible sound. This couldn’t possibly be the devil. Not the devil I’d ever heard of.

“Oh sweet, little one, no. I am not the devil. I do not want your soul. Only your power.”

“What power do I have?” My breath left my lungs in short pants, as I actually felt his fingers dancing inside of me, even though his arms lay limply by his sides.

“You have the most amazing kind of power.” He dropped his nose to my hair and inhaled deeply. I could only imagine it smelled like coffee and cleaning spray, from working all day. “You smell like electricity and excitement to me, Charlene. You smell like unbridled passion, fury and life.” I suddenly felt his erection and could barely stop myself from collapsing and begging him to let me have it.

“All you have to do is tell me you’re mine. And this raging cock is all yours.”

I took several deep breaths, trying to clear my mind of his magic. I even thought, Please get out of my head.

He did. He stepped back and withdrew completely and I suddenly felt freezing cold and chest crushingly empty. I opened my eyes and stared at him, willing him to return. As a single tear slipped down my cheek, he growled, “Say it.”

I swallowed and whispered, “Please come back?”

It may have only been a few seconds, but that cold made it feel like an eternity before he stepped against me again, and his warmth enveloped me, this time, with his arms. He bent his lips to mine and rumbled, “I cannot kiss you until you say it.”

I exhaled, and he stole my breath. I blinked and the warmth reached my heart. “I’m yours.”

I wasn’t sure I’d said it aloud for a moment, but then suddenly his lips were pressed against mine and his tongue was dancing with mine. The warmth turned to a fire that burned so brightly I lost my mind for a moment or two.

When I returned, he was carrying me into the kitchen, his frame seemed much larger than it had when he was sitting. He sat me on a table, pulled my wrists behind my back and began to untie my apron before speaking to me through my mind.

Is anyone here? Will anyone come tonight?

I didn’t need to answer, because the answers were there as soon as he gave me the questions.

Having him inside my head was strange, but exhilarating. And the way my body felt was incredible.

I’m going to go very quickly at first, I need you to let go completely.

He pulled my t-shirt over my head and hummed at the sight of my pretty, soft breasts cupped in sheer coral fabric. His fingers practically dissolved me out of my jeans, I’m still not sure how he accomplished that, as I wear them quite snug on my curvy ass.

Your body will heal. You must remember that.

Suddenly, he flipped me and secured my wrists with my apron strings to the side of the table. His hands began pinching and rubbing my ass between stinging blows of his palm. I heard his belt buckle and the leather slide from the loops and nearly came from the thought of him strapping me, like my daddy did when I was a girl.

You’re daddy’s good girl, why would you need a strapping? Oh, yes, because of your naughty, slutty thoughts.

The first few blows, he laid on my ass cheeks with the belt folded in half. But then he released it and let it whip through the air, all over my body. The pain was so decadent, I’m not sure I would call it pain at all. After 20 or 30 strikes, he bent and said aloud. “I need blood, your body will heal.”

He pulled a knife from the block on the counter and ran it over my ass. I couldn’t scream, nor did I want to. The searing pain of each shallow slice was quickly negated by his thick, luscious voice in my mind, calming me, telling me I was a good girl, and how amazing my powers were.

After 7 scores, he dropped the knife and began rubbing the blood and licking the wounds. I didn’t panic at all, and instead felt incredible need for him to continue. As my thoughts began to race, his fingers slipped between my cheeks and into my dripping lips. “I want to fuck your amazing pussy, but I need you to cum first. I need your climax to give me full strength.”

It took but mere seconds for the waves of pleasure his vibrating fingers pulsed into me to send me bucking and jolting over the edge. My juices flowed from me, onto his waiting tongue as he lapped them up moaning, and growling with his own deep satisfaction.

I felt that liquid warmth wash over me again, as whatever power I was feeding him strengthened within him. He roared his lust against my ear as he slammed his suddenly free rod ferociously into my quivering cunt.

After only a few thrusts, I came again, with such intensity, I thought I might turn inside out.

He slowed to allow my mind to recover, but then pulled free and flipped me over onto my backside. It didn’t hurt. Questions filled my mind about what he had done, because I saw the blood on his chin and hands, but my ass did not hurt. Not even a tingle.

He smiled a questionably evil grin, “I told you that you would heal. I couldn’t have you bleed away all of that power.”

He released my wrists and spun me on the table as my thoughts spun around the cuts and the blood. “Would you like to see? You want to see the blood too? Taste it. Feel it. Rub it all over your gloriously pale skin?”

“Yes, please, yes!” What had come over me? These were not thoughts or fantasies I’d ever had before. The magic this man infected me with… “Yes.”

He sliced off my bra, and groaned as my heavy tits bounced free. Bringing the knife to the top of my breasts, he heard my thoughts about scars and whispered, “There will be no marks.”

As the blade ran across my flesh, fine red dots began to grow and fill into drops, then flow into pools and rivulets. I groaned, as I felt the searing pain of a fresh wound, but the incredible liquid heat that he was spreading throughout my body quickly turned it into something else. Something incredible. I lifted a hand to touch it and his voice filled my head again.

Rub it onto your nipples so that I may taste them both together.

I slid my fingers through the line of blood, and then circled my tight peaks, moaning and panting at the incredible pleasure alive throughout my whole body.

His lips dropped to my chest and he began licking and sucking, then biting until his cock could not be ignored another moment. “Please let me taste it?” I begged.

He jumped onto the table, straddling my chest and began stroking his huge dick between my breasts. The blood coated it quickly and he rose to fuck my waiting mouth. It tasted like syrup and metal and heat and salt. I sucked and swirled as he rammed his erection into my throat repeatedly. I knew whatever control he had on me was keeping me from gagging, and started to lose pace with my breathing until he reminded me, with his mind, not to slip away.

I felt him trembling and knew he was going to cum, so I began swallowing repetitively against the tip of his glorious cock. As he shot pulse after pulse of searingly hot seed down the back of my throat, he pulled himself free so that he could watch the final ropes hit my tongue.

He tasted as good as he smelled, and as I licked my lips and hummed my delight, he lowered himself to lie on top of me and lick the bloody wound across my chest.

As he did so, I watched it close.

Then I looked into his eyes and saw the lust was unabated. I tried to mentally prepare myself for more.

His expression told me any such preparations would be useless, before his voice filled my mind.

You’re quite good, my little slut. But I understand this might be overwhelming. Do you need a break? Because I’d like to really get at your pain fantasies, now that I am somewhat sated.

My mind was blank. I must have repeated his last sentence in my own mind five times before he said aloud, with annoyance, “You are thinking far too much. Have I given you any reason to feel this… concern that you are overcome with?”

I stared at him, thinking how the pain hadn’t been real pain, how his magic made it different.

Is it true pain that you wish to experience? I will go, and you will understand true pain.

“No!” I shouted, remembering the emptiness and coldness left from him absence earlier. “No, I just don’t fully understand…” My voice fell away as abstentious humor curled his lips.

He dropped to the floor, standing even taller than I had remembered, and took my hand to raise me off the table. “Sweet Charlene, no, you do not fully understand and that is your hesitance, isn’t it. Is it being here, in the place where you are normally in charge? Would you prefer I take you home?”

He wanted to bring me to his home? He had house just like a human?

“Oh, dear girl. You must stop thinking.” He pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me, and breathing in deeply against my hair. This time I felt him draw the power, and I felt the strength build in his embrace. The air around us shifted, and when I opened my eyes, we were on my porch. I pushed against his chest but he didn’t budge, and instead, snaked his hand down to my naked ass. “Now, invite me inside, my sweet southern belle.”

“How did we get here? Why didn’t you let me dress?” The fear was building instead of abating, and it was apparently stealing back the power from him, because he let me go.

Stepping back, I see that he is fully dressed, and then as I take another step, placing my back against the front door, I look down and see that now I am dressed too.

“You need only think about what you wish. If you get past the fear, I can make all your wishes and desires true. You know this, deep inside, but continue to let the fear spin your thoughts.”

I let out a the huge breath I’d been holding and closed my eyes. When I did, I felt the warm energy surround me again, slipping into my clothes, my panties, my chest and my soul. “But this is evil,” I whispered, not opening my eyes.

“The fear is born from not knowing or understanding what it is I am giving to you. Or what you might do with it.”

When I opened my eyes, his expression was grave, but the heat increased, and again, I felt as though his fingers were inside me, circling my clit, pressing into my ass. “An explanation is what you need, little girl. But you still won’t understand. Give into your desire, let me pleasure you for the next two days. Let me help you understand yourself. At the end, you will understand my needs.”

I suddenly felt incredible sadness, that shocked and hurt me. “No, no, child,” he breathed as he stepped against me, filling my mind with images of me with children, a real home, a pleasant life. “Do not think ‘the end’ is THE end, I do not wish to harm you. I wish to bring you over. I wish to make all your dreams come true, but not the dreams you’ve had for your future, the ones you will have once our union is complete.”

The images shifted, and there were still children, but different. There was still a home, but much different. In this future, I was not a simple southern waitress, but a powerful goddess of some kind. It still was something I could not understand. But his presence around and inside me was so exhilarating. I wanted more pleasure. More pain. More blood. And more power. I felt his goals blooming inside of me as I whispered, “Yes, …please come inside.”

Why he required the invitation, I am unsure, but it doesn’t matter as we stepped into my living room and our clothes disappeared. He asked me through our telepathic connection if I had rope, and I answered him the same way, growing more accustomed to the connection. I pictured my scarves, and he immediately pulled me into my bedroom, knowing my home from the knowledge of my mind.

He positioned me at the end of the bed, and stood in front of me. I felt his thoughts as though I were thinking them myself, and I somehow let him see that I wanted his magic inside of me again. He grabbed my elbows tightly and our lips touched. Suddenly I experienced a whirlwind of sensations. As though there were lips and tongues and fingers and cocks all around me, stroking me, kissing me, penetrating me. He let go of me and I opened my eyes to see blue smoke surrounding me in streams.

My arms were thrust out to my sides and my legs yanked apart, as I was lifted onto my back on the bed. The smoke turned solid, and I watched as thick, blue rope like tentacles wound around my entire body. One large one, flicked over my nipples before rising to ram into my mouth. Some smaller with pointed ends flicked at my nipples and clit while another large one inserted itself into my pussy. As if they were one, great monster, they fucked me and teased me, until I squeezed my eyes shut so tightly that they hurt. The ecstasy mixed with fear was far too much and I pleaded for his true presence. When I opened my eyes again, he was lying on top of me, the tentacle monster gone, as if it were never there.

“You must get past the fear, little one. It angers me,” he growled against my lips, but instead of increasing my fear, it only built on my lust. He growled again in my ear, shooting vibrations straight to my clit, and sensing this ability, he roared, that dark, venomous roar from earlier, and I came. Hard. My pussy clenched as my liquid desire filled the room with my scent.

He inhaled a deep breath before rumbling, “Yes! Give me more, sweet girl!” He jumped off of me, halfway across the room in completely inhuman fashion, but his thoughts were in mine, and I knew he was seeking the scarves. When he returned, he quickly bound me, tightly, and somewhat painfully. He grinned at that thought, and dipped to kiss me. “There is much more pain to come, my sweet.”

I quivered at the notion, and his chuckle filled the room with the most amazing sound. After he finished laughing, I saw him holding his belt again and chills spilled over my skin. I was tied, wrists together, and lashed to the headboard. My ankles were each tied to the legs of the bed frame. He was going to strap my front.

He folded the belt in half and immediately started striking me with it. My breasts, my belly, my arms and thighs. Over and over, each blow landing hard enough to leave a mark, some welting immediately. The heat from the hits combined with his electricity smoothing over my skin after each blow went everywhere but the spot that I longed for and feared equally.

Let go of the fear, recognize how much you want it and let go.

I started begging him, in my mind, as I bit my cheek, to do it. Hit my pussy, please. Hit my pussy!

Fourteen strikes, harder each time, landed on my swollen lips and engorged clit. The pain was excruciatingly pleasurable, and, for a moment, I didn’t want him to ever stop, but then I heard him whisper, “I need your blood, again.”

The fingers of his right hand were suddenly holding a three pronged knife, a sai, his voice filled my head again, and I longed for him to say more.

I want to cut you and heal you over and over, I want to feed off of you… You want it, don’t you. You want the blood as much as me.

“Yes!” I screamed, pulling at my restraints, writhing and pleading, in my mind, for him to begin. Devour me!

His lips were on mine, before he suddenly bit, then sucked on my tongue. I tasted the blood, but the wound was healed in seconds, and I felt my climax rising inside of me, with his huge cock pressed against my thigh. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me, a purely diabolical look in his nearly gold eyes. Where they always that color? His blood covered teeth flashed at me, and my body sung with need.

“Please, please…” I moaned, desperate for more, for something, for completion.

I felt the knife under my breast, before he whispered, “I’m going deeper this time. You will still heal, but this time, you’ll bleed longer. It will hurt worse, but only for a moment.”

That intoxicating warmth flowed over and into me, I supposed to dampen the pain. I moaned and whimpered at the pleasure, but as the blade slid into my breast slowly, I cried out, thrashing against the pain. I screamed as he pulled the blade free, but the scream rolled me into an earth shattering orgasm.

His magical smoke flowed throughout me, penetrating me, and the added pain and pressure from his lips as he sucked on the bloody wound sent me crashing against my own body. Clenching and squirting, the waves kept hitting me and I wondered if it would ever end.

I nearly forgot what was happening, when my mind was quickly filled with more images. Visions from him, of this future, with him. But suddenly, I was in control of them. He had healed the wound and his lips travelled down, nipping and sucking, until his tongue circled my clit.

As the pleasure surged through me, yet again, I felt the handle of the sai, cold and hard, press inside my throbbing slit. I was telling him to do these things, controlling him through the channel he had used to control me. My power wasn’t simply feeding him, but me as well. I tried not to allow any thoughts to break the spell, I continued instructing him and wondered how far I could take it.

Cut yourself. Let me taste YOUR blood.

I stared down at him, as his eyes rose to meet mine. “Yesssss.” He wanted that, he wanted us to both get stronger. Why?

“We need to be strong to truly unite. Your body will need to be much more tenacious to handle the conception of our offspring.”

He slithered up my body before thrusting his massive cock inside my pulsing rent, drilling into me deeper and deeper until I was surging against the incredible zenith and plummeting over the edge. I screamed in my mind for him to feed me, and he did.

As he sliced his chest and leaned against my lips, he roared again, this time sounding remarkably scary, but it didn’t frighten me in the least. I had told him to do so. I was in complete command, and as I sucked the blood from his wound, I felt it through my whole body. It was incredible.

I lost control, as the combination of him around me, inside me and flowing through me, intoxicated me completely. The taste was indescribable. I felt the wound close under my tongue, and as I looked up at his face, his eyes seemed different. He lowered himself for a moment, so the his lips were just above mine.

“I feel drunk,” I grinned, unsure if he could hear my thoughts.

“I know, it will fade, little one.” He gave me a soft kiss, his softening manhood sliding out of me.

I was sure he had not cum again. “What’s the matter, Sir? Did I do something wrong?” My voice barely squeaked out as I felt him pulling back, pulling away, leaving me empty again. “Please, please don’t leave me,” I whispered.

He began to untie the scarves and I felt him and heard him willing himself not to pull back completely. I heard him telling himself that he needed me, even if that was the scariest fucking thing he’d ever realized. He couldn’t tell I was still in his head, and that was strange. If he created the connection…

Once my right hand was free, I lifted it to his cheek, “Please tell me your name. If you’re going to leave me, I should at least know your name…”

“I told you, I go by many names.” His eyes were so sad, he almost didn’t look like the same man. As he finished untying the other hand, I grabbed his face and willed him to look into my eyes. His elbows dropped to either side of my shoulders and his hands wrapped around my head, just as I wished it. I tried hard to keep myself from thinking thoughts, only commands, because I wasn’t sure when he would start reading my mind again.

“Kiss me then, Man. Fill me back up… please?”

His thoughts went to the visions of my future. …Our future. …Our children’s future. It was surreal. Everything I had imagined, everything that I had changed and created was there, in his fantasy. His eyes widened and he dropped his lips to mine.

I giggled, feeling the intoxication return with his extra-presence. I pulled him into a deep kiss, filling his mouth with my tongue, and feeling his body respond to me in a new way. One he didn’t understand. One he was helpless to fight against. I pushed him back and giggled again.

Sensing his uneasiness, I let the power flow back to him, as slowly and easily as I could. And as I did, his thoughts became very dark.

My giddiness was quickly replaced with a need to bleed for him.

“Sweet Charlene,” he said with a sigh, “I can tell you are beginning to sense the magnitude of these events. There is a problem, though. To speak metaphorically, you are still operating at too low a frequency for your destiny to be realized. We need to ratchet you up.”

“I’m ready, Sir,” I breathed.

“I’m not convinced you understand what needs to happen.”

“The vision, Sir. What price would be too high?”

“I suppose no one is ever ready,” he said.

I heard a loud clacking noise. Noise it too weak a word. Cacophony. Symphony of creaks, groans, scratches of metal on metal. I saw them come at me like tendrils of some horrid squid, the long lengths of razor wire shooting out of the walls, the floor, the ceiling – circling around my limbs, tearing my flesh. I started to scream, but before the sound could escape a length of the wire slammed across my mouth and tongue.

The agony was unbearable as the metallic, cutting tendrils circled over my breasts – ripping into my soft flesh. I saw geysers of blood shoot from my chest, spraying until the air itself seemed dark red. I whimpered as best as I could as the tendrils penetrated my pussy and then my ass.

I felt my very life slipping away, wishing that death would end this horrible pain. And then the sensations seem to grow so intense that my mind could no longer understand the overload of signals. I felt an orgasm convulse through my body. I jerked so hard that I almost ripped myself apart in the net of the razor wire. And the pain returned, followed by greater pleasure, over and over and over.

Soon I sensed a rhythm as pulse of pleasure and pain coursed through me. I felt my body vibrating, pulsating with a new power. And beyond that, I sensed that there were other bodies in me – other parts of myself being woken up by the shock to my system.

The blood continued to course through my body and shoot out into the air in ever more amazing patterns and configurations. I could see glimpses of a million possible futures and a billion possible pasts somehow encoded in the sprays of blood.

Soon I was beyond even that. I was all pleasure and pain and the pulsating rhythm.

And as quickly as it started, it stopped. The razor wire withdrew. The cuts healed. My mind returned to my body. The Man was on top of me, pushing my legs up in the air as he rutted away at me. Our bodies were soaked in my blood.

I instinctively reached my blood covered hand down to play with my throbbing clit.

“Sweet Charlene! Do you want my cum?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered.

His grunts shook the room as I felt his throbbing member pulse and pulse, over and over as his cum filling my pussy as another orgasm rocked my already exhausted body.

He dismounted and collapsed beside me. His cock still hard, still pulsing as little drops of cum continued to bubble up through his member. I took him in my mouth delighting myself in the taste of my blood and my juices mixed with his cum.

As I sucked him he drifted off to sleep. And as I curled up next to his body and slept, too, the ramifications of what had happened bloomed within me, in my mind, in my dreams.

When I woke, after what seemed like days, I instantly searched my mind before opening my eyes. Had that really happened? I sensed his presence, he was still asleep, and dreaming of the future… the one I’d shown him.

His energy was liquid and content, and I felt it bend to my will. I opened my eyes to the blood covered room and then stared at my flesh. The blood that stained the walls and sheets had absorbed into my skin. There were no marks, scars, or dried droplets. Instead, my skin looked as it never had, glowingly perfect. I wanted to wake him, to show him, but his dreams were so lovely.

I laid my head on The Man’s chest, and watched, as though I were at the movies. I felt his pleasure, at this new world we would create with our offspring.

I didn’t even know his name.

As though by command, his names appeared to me. All of them. In all of their elaborate confusion. Everything revealed itself to me at my desire.

I opened my eyes and wished the blood gone, and it disappeared. Poof. Not a single stain left.

I wished for the Sai, and it lifted from the ground next to the bed into my hand. I felt myself getting stronger still. A strength I realized now The Man had known I would obtain. But I’m sure he did not realize I would control him and our connection.

I pressed the tip of the blade against his chest and told his sleeping mind not too feel pain. As I broke the skin, he was aware that something had happened, his real face even winced, but as the blood oozed from the wound and I sucked the sweet nectar in, his dreams became filled with lust and sadistic violence.

Yes, wake my dark Sir, do those things to me.

As his eyes fluttered open, he realized what I had done, just before the wound drew closed. I felt his fear. I felt his realization.

“How are you doing this, little girl? How could you possibly steal my strength?”

Feeling drunk again, from consuming his essence, I giggled and climbed on top of him.

“Oh, sir, you truly have nothing to fear from me. I need you as you need me. I’m using your strength, but only borrowing it. It’s still yours. It belongs to you. You thought in taking my power, it would make you a king. You believed the future would be yours. But… it is ours. ”

I rose, straddling him, and pulling his blue smoke to surround us. I commanded it wrap in fingerlike tendrils around me – my neck, my breasts, arms, wrists and thighs. He watched as the smoke changed and became solid. The fleshy, vine like strands danced around my pussy, darting in and out, making me wet and pulling at my arms, nipples, throat… I winced at the pain of it. I continued, using my own power to hurt myself, because the pain and pleasure were the keys.

His dark and glorious laugh filled the room. He still did not fully comprehend. “You don’t seem to have the control you believe you do. Perhaps you should return the power to me, sweet Charlene?”

As he finished the statement, all motion stopped. I glared down at him as the blue tendrils released me and lifted into the air, surrounding him like a dozen pointed veins. His face changed, and his fear excited me.

I didn’t lose strength from his fear as he did with mine. I sent my magic to wrap around him and penetrate him, the way he had used the smoke on me. The tendrils stroked and held him, he watched them anxiously, before succumbing to their pleasure.

“I’m in far more control than you, Sir. I understand these powers in a way you do not. I do not wish to become a ruler, but to create the new world. You will not be king, my dark sadist, but perhaps your children or grandchildren will. Can you be trusted to remain at my side? To assist me in teaching them? Or will you always try to take my power to use it for yourself?”

His face was filled with pleasure, pain, confusion and frustration. I closed my eyes and the blue magic disappeared. I lowered myself to lie on his chest. I stopped controlling him, so that he might have a clear head, but lifted my hands to his face and hair. I kissed his lips softly, while he stared at me, bewildered.

“Why are you willing to share? You’re clearly stronger than me, why wouldn’t you just kill me?” His voice was so low, his eyes, so much darker than they’d been, his heart truly full of fear.

“You needed a human for a reason, Sir. Just as that human would always need you. I recognize this. And killing you serves no purpose. Without your presence, I would become that sad, empty girl I was, again. Without my presence, you would always be seeking that power that strengthens you.

“If you promise not to lose site of the future, the end goal, I will submit to you always, my dark Sir. My power will continue to be your strength. That is what I truly want. An infinite lifetime of pleasure, …for both of us.”

As I bent to kiss him, I felt his thoughts and emotions, I felt his fear, but I allowed him to work through it. I felt his desire. He more than wanted me, he was unsure he could live without me.

I rolled off, to his side and laid my ear against his chest. He had a heart, like a real man, but it did not sound quite the same. I concentrated on syncing my own to his. Closing my eyes, I manipulated my own human heartbeat until it fell in pace with his.

I felt him shift, and I opened my eyes, face to face with his fiery golden irises. Wide, and questioning, he slipped his fingers around my face. “Why did you do that?” His voice was quiet and deep, but wavered slightly.

“To see if I could… Because it felt like you needed me, but in a way you still won’t believe.” I stroked his cheek and filled his mind with the visions.

Let go of the future you expected. Promise me. Accept my submission. We can enjoy the fruits of our union for eternity. You chose me for a reason.

He looked at me with a sort of half smile and whispered, “You’re asking me accept your submission. But you’re telling me to submit.”

I laughed, “Our children will never know the difference.”

He rolled me onto my back, covering my body with his and whispered, darkly, “As long as I get to be in control of this,” he held my wrists in one hand above my head, then slid his other between us, between my legs, and held my pussy, thrusting his middle fingers inside me. “And you never subject me to that tentacle shit again,” he let go, spread my legs and drilled into me with his huge erection. “I will submit to your submission.”

Waiting

stugym by DelilahWoolf via Deviant Art.com

I lie, and wait, for punishment. You’re gonna use the belt. My love/hate relationship with that God awful thing makes you use it more often than you should. Since you told me to wait like this, I know you will use the belt. You don’t punish my ass anymore, because I like it. Too much. So the back it is. At least you haven’t discovered how sensitive my legs are. I don’t think you’d hit my legs anyway, knowing how much I love them.

Are you going to make me wait an hour? This is the worst part. Waiting. It’s part of the punishment, I know, because I’m so fucking impatient. You make me wait constantly. Do you think I’ll suddenly become more patient? I should ask you that sometime. …No, you’d probably slap me across the face. Hmm…

God, would you hurry up already? My knees hurt. Better not tell you that, you’ll keep me on them. That wouldn’t be so bad. I love having your cock in my throat. But I’d rather get fucked. I need it so badly.

That’s why I’m getting punished, you caught me masturbating in the shower. Like a one minute orgasm could compare to getting fucked. I wasn’t sure I’d see you. I needed release.

You NEED to learn. I’m tired of punishing you for the same thing, over and over.

It’s true. It’s probably the only thing I get punished for. I can’t remember another reason. I’ve never thought to ask you if I could rub one out. Maybe I want to get punished. I am a masochist. But back strappings fucking hurt.

Shit. This is going to hurt.

Tears? What the fuck?! I barely cry from an ass strapping and today I’m about to cry before I even get hit? I’m seriously messed up. Are you ever going to come in here and get this over with?

How much worse would it be if you came in to find me in another position? My knees are killing me. If I could touch myself, it wouldn’t be so bad. God. I just can’t leave well enough alone. I must be a punishment junkie.

Get in here, already! This sucks. I HATE waiting. Oh, wait… I hear you coming. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is going to hurt. Stop crying, fucking pussy. It’s your own fault. Shit.

I hear the buckle. I hear you pulling it free. …Well, get it over with, already…

Are you going to hit me? Or just stare at me? Please, don’t make me count.

Shit…

MelDouleur.com

poetry, fiction, and musings

Category: Fiction

Moonlighting, Part Five

To catch up on the whole series, click here. This is the final installment. Let me know what you think!

Dearest Reggie…

In an effort to inspire him to finish, I’ve written this letter from Edith’s P.O.V. (the mistress, who Reggie calls Eden).

**WARNING – This is not my typical style of erotica, and includes a bit of horror towards the end.

(For those of you anxiously awaiting new material from ME in Good Girl and Moonlighting, it is my plan to wrap up both in the following week or two. So… no eye rolling or lectures… please? Feel free to give Mr. Keys a hard time, though…)

Dancer

Blackmail

That beard

Rag Doll

The Cabin

The Beast

The Man

(This story was originally reblogged from Eric’s site, which he has since deleted. You may, however, find his current work at bloodglorygrace.wordpress.com.)

Waiting

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poetry, fiction, and musings

To catch up on the whole series, click here. This is the final installment. Let me know what you think!

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In an effort to inspire him to finish, I’ve written this letter from Edith’s P.O.V. (the mistress, who Reggie calls Eden).

**WARNING – This is not my typical style of erotica, and includes a bit of horror towards the end.

(For those of you anxiously awaiting new material from ME in Good Girl and Moonlighting, it is my plan to wrap up both in the following week or two. So… no eye rolling or lectures… please? Feel free to give Mr. Keys a hard time, though…)

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(This story was originally reblogged from Eric’s site, which he has since deleted. You may, however, find his current work at bloodglorygrace.wordpress.com.)

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