“Remember my safe sign is the “live long & prosper” sign.” She said, wiggling out of her thong. How decadent to be standing naked in front of a totally hot guy in leather pants. She looked at the tools he’d laid out and squirmed with pleasure.
“Yes. Come here.” He motioned her over and when she was in front of him, he shoved the ball gag into her mouth, hooking it around her head. His look was stern and really intense. He picked up the nipple clamps with their connecting chain, ignored her wide-eyes and snapped them on. She groaned loudly around the gag and some drool escaped. The pain dulled to a sharp throb and she straightened.
“Bend over.” He pointed at the spanking horse.
She walked over and did as she was told. He affixed her wrists around one pair of legs.
“Spread your legs.” He cuffed her ankles around the second.
He moved in front of her and grinned evilly, showing her the weight he held in his hand, just before he hooked it onto the chain between the nipple clamps. She moaned loudly, squirmed as much as she could and felt the delicious agony spread like a laser to her cunt.
He walked around behind her and slid his hand between her legs. She was dripping and a finger shoved between her slick lips nearly made her come on the spot. He wiped his damp finger across the cheek of her ass and she waited breathlessly for the next torment.
She was already on the verge of coming. And the fun had barely begun. He looked at his little sub, creaming from just a bit of bondage and clamps. He’d known she was a natural the minute he saw her at the club, where every week she’d let another Dom pick her out and torment her. He had wanted the curvaceous body and the great ass all to himself. Now that he had her he was going to work her so good she’d beg to be his, and only his. No more club scenes. He wanted her all to himself. Well, most of the time anyway. His buddy Rex wielded a mean flogger himself, and she did so love double-penetration. And she was a glorious little exhibitionist. Perhaps alternating blow jobs before they stuffed her full of cock?
“I hope you’re ready, my pretty?” Her head bobbled slightly in response. He grinned. She was such a pain slut. He had been hard for a week anticipating this scene. Picking out the toys.
He swished the flogger, delighting in the sinister whistle. He watched as she tensed. Another swish, another tensing. A few middling strokes to warm her up before he went to town on that sweet butt.
One downward stroke. Instant red stripes blossomed on the delicate white flesh. Another stroke, infinitesimally more power behind it. She groaned again, louder.
“Now we’re going to have some real fun.” And he grinned as he swung his arm.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Trust
Trust. It was all about trust, Camille thought as she stretched her arms above her head – like a trapeze artist reaching for her partner, though in her case it would not be her partner’s hands clasped around her wrists, but rather the silken cords he dangled in front of her eyes.
Her gesture was her answer to his questions. Will you surrender? Will you submit to me? She had wanted to hear him ask those questions since the night of their first meeting. The private party at the BDSM club had been populated with elegant people – Doms and subs, tops and bottoms, Masters and slaves – all alone and looking to find the perfect partner with whom to live out the most carnal and captivating of fantasies. She had never before participated in a submissive role. But the desire had been there. Overwhelming, ever-present. Vanilla sex and relationships had left her distant and unfulfilled. Eventually she had abandoned all hope of ever finding a soul-mate, a partner who would help her to fly, to soar into the subspace she’d read so eagerly and longingly of. Who would teach her body and her mind to obey and revel in the sensual pains and the submissive role.
Now she was here. Jason had cornered her at the party. He had spoken to her briefly, watched her intently, and then made a date for cocktails the next evening. She had been breathless with anticipation until their rendezvous, and weak with disappointment when he called their evening to an end.
But he had escorted her home, kissed her palms, and held her face between his broad palms.
“Camille, I would like to explore this chemistry. You are a natural submissive and I would like to be the man who shares these first, virginal experiences with you. But the choice must be yours. You must give yourself to me willingly, without reservations. I do not play games and this is not a frivolous or casual offer. Should you accept me this will be a complete relationship. I do not just desire your body. I desire your mind, and your soul and that beautiful, generous heart of yours. I want you to be mine in all ways.”
She had begun to answer, but he had laid a finger across her lips.
“Do not be hasty. This is a most momentous decision. I want you to think long and hard. I want you to be sure. You will need to trust me, implicitly. Take your time to decide if you can do that.”
And he had left her, feeling bereft of his mere presence. The only times he had touched her – fleeting touches of her hands, wrists shoulder or cheek – had made her feel alive, loved, possessed. They had made her feel amazing. She had known from the moment he offered that she wanted all he was willing to give. And she had known it was the real thing.
Beneath him, she smiled and leaped into the chasm.
Her gesture was her answer to his questions. Will you surrender? Will you submit to me? She had wanted to hear him ask those questions since the night of their first meeting. The private party at the BDSM club had been populated with elegant people – Doms and subs, tops and bottoms, Masters and slaves – all alone and looking to find the perfect partner with whom to live out the most carnal and captivating of fantasies. She had never before participated in a submissive role. But the desire had been there. Overwhelming, ever-present. Vanilla sex and relationships had left her distant and unfulfilled. Eventually she had abandoned all hope of ever finding a soul-mate, a partner who would help her to fly, to soar into the subspace she’d read so eagerly and longingly of. Who would teach her body and her mind to obey and revel in the sensual pains and the submissive role.
Now she was here. Jason had cornered her at the party. He had spoken to her briefly, watched her intently, and then made a date for cocktails the next evening. She had been breathless with anticipation until their rendezvous, and weak with disappointment when he called their evening to an end.
But he had escorted her home, kissed her palms, and held her face between his broad palms.
“Camille, I would like to explore this chemistry. You are a natural submissive and I would like to be the man who shares these first, virginal experiences with you. But the choice must be yours. You must give yourself to me willingly, without reservations. I do not play games and this is not a frivolous or casual offer. Should you accept me this will be a complete relationship. I do not just desire your body. I desire your mind, and your soul and that beautiful, generous heart of yours. I want you to be mine in all ways.”
She had begun to answer, but he had laid a finger across her lips.
“Do not be hasty. This is a most momentous decision. I want you to think long and hard. I want you to be sure. You will need to trust me, implicitly. Take your time to decide if you can do that.”
And he had left her, feeling bereft of his mere presence. The only times he had touched her – fleeting touches of her hands, wrists shoulder or cheek – had made her feel alive, loved, possessed. They had made her feel amazing. She had known from the moment he offered that she wanted all he was willing to give. And she had known it was the real thing.
Beneath him, she smiled and leaped into the chasm.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Vicarious
Laine left her workshop and returned to the cottage the Corporation had rented for the event. She was drained from her presentation on the advertising of their product lines to alternative demographic groups and looked forward to a leisurely bath with some new Corporation products - lavender bath salts and a selection of herbal candles guaranteed to relax and renew.
She grabbed a bottle of a light red wine and after nibbling on some delectable fruits that had been delivered, she wandered into the spacious bathroom to fill the tub. She wore a feather-light pale cotton shift that was loose, cool and unrestricted. She realized that the windows were larger than she'd first noticed, looking out across the tiny paradise of her cottage lawn and directly onto another. It too was open and airy, but of darker wood, with broad windows and a masculine air. The windows were open and a smooth jazz could be heard wafting across the expanse.
When the tub was filled she slid off the shift and submersed herself into the warm, soothing water. Sighing, she reached for the wine.
The lavender did it's job, relaxing her aching feet and easing the tension in her neck. The Corporation had purchased a company specializing in sensual products and she had worked hard on the research that would make their advertising both new, and innovative - selling the product on a wholly different level than had been done before. They'd skimmed off the tacky product quotes and added new, sleek and simple marketing effects.
For her part, Laine had spent one too many nights with focus groups and research surveys. Too much talk about sex and not enough for her. The thought of sex caught her unawares and she suddenly ached for release. Her hand drifted through the pale violet water, reaching the slick folds of her pussy and she began to stroke herself.
She conjured up images of a broad male body on top of her, a thick cock stretching her cunt as her lover pounded deep into her. She spread her legs and arched her back and moaned as her fingers pierced her channel.
The sound of a bird call that brought Laine’s eyes open. She glanced out the window, saw a colorful bird flit away and her gaze fell on the second story porch of the opposite cottage where a man stood watching her. He stared directly at her, and Laine knew her body, and her actions, were on display for him.
Contrary to every fiber of her staid and straight-laced self, Laine smiled at him. She continued the sensual touch of her labia, arched breasts with pointed nipples out of the bath using her other hand to pluck at the tiny nubs.
When the orgasm washed over her, stronger, more intense than she had anticipated, she sobbed aloud, and her voice carried out, over the warm summer air, to wash over the man who watched her, his own pleasure a purely vicarious one.
She grabbed a bottle of a light red wine and after nibbling on some delectable fruits that had been delivered, she wandered into the spacious bathroom to fill the tub. She wore a feather-light pale cotton shift that was loose, cool and unrestricted. She realized that the windows were larger than she'd first noticed, looking out across the tiny paradise of her cottage lawn and directly onto another. It too was open and airy, but of darker wood, with broad windows and a masculine air. The windows were open and a smooth jazz could be heard wafting across the expanse.
When the tub was filled she slid off the shift and submersed herself into the warm, soothing water. Sighing, she reached for the wine.
The lavender did it's job, relaxing her aching feet and easing the tension in her neck. The Corporation had purchased a company specializing in sensual products and she had worked hard on the research that would make their advertising both new, and innovative - selling the product on a wholly different level than had been done before. They'd skimmed off the tacky product quotes and added new, sleek and simple marketing effects.
For her part, Laine had spent one too many nights with focus groups and research surveys. Too much talk about sex and not enough for her. The thought of sex caught her unawares and she suddenly ached for release. Her hand drifted through the pale violet water, reaching the slick folds of her pussy and she began to stroke herself.
She conjured up images of a broad male body on top of her, a thick cock stretching her cunt as her lover pounded deep into her. She spread her legs and arched her back and moaned as her fingers pierced her channel.
The sound of a bird call that brought Laine’s eyes open. She glanced out the window, saw a colorful bird flit away and her gaze fell on the second story porch of the opposite cottage where a man stood watching her. He stared directly at her, and Laine knew her body, and her actions, were on display for him.
Contrary to every fiber of her staid and straight-laced self, Laine smiled at him. She continued the sensual touch of her labia, arched breasts with pointed nipples out of the bath using her other hand to pluck at the tiny nubs.
When the orgasm washed over her, stronger, more intense than she had anticipated, she sobbed aloud, and her voice carried out, over the warm summer air, to wash over the man who watched her, his own pleasure a purely vicarious one.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
What to do with a naked elf
With a naked man, generally the first thing I notice is not the guy’s ears. But when they’re pointed? That’s an elf of a different color. And the guy standing naked in my bedroom sure as shit looked like an elf to me. Long blond hair, piercing ice blue eyes, tall, a slender but nicely muscularly defined body and pointy ears. Oh, and an impressive erection that any elven maid would covet?
“Goddess, save me, are you the Seeker?” His voice sounded like water over stones. Smooth and clear.
“The what?”
“I must find the Seeker. It is foretold that I am to impregnate her and she will bear the child that will rejuvenate my world.”
“Why would you think I am the Seeker?” I couldn’t keep from asking.
“You are who the Visionary bade me find. A woman of raven hair and violet eyes, curves the Goddess would envy and a mouth made for kissing.”
The way he told it, I sounded sorta like the Seeker babe in question. Then he threw me for a real loop.
“Are you not Philomena? The Visionary saw the name in his scrying mirror.”
Whoa. Not to put too fine a point on it, but that was me. Before I could ask another question, my elf visitor strode forward. Now my eyes were on his awesome weapon of love, and when he took me in his arms, I could feel it, as well as see it.
“We must consummate our love immediately, Mistress Philomena. The Ravens were fast upon my heels. Once my seed has been planted in your womb, they will be powerless until the babe is born.
His arms were around me, and his lips very close. He smelled like grass and sunlight and pine. Deep in the pit of my belly I felt the first curling ache of desire begin to grow. Then I realized that while I’d been staring at him, he’d begun to remove my clothes. T-shirt and thong, they didn’t take long and I was standing naked in his arms, that cock of his pressed against my belly. The ache had moved down and I was wet with wanting exactly what he offered. My mind didn’t seem to comprehend what was happening. Beyond him everything seemed rather blurred and hazy. He lay me down on the sofa, his gaze questioning. It felt like someone else nodded her head, but it was definitely me he slid inside. So tight it was near to pain, he filled me and with concentration he pounded into me. An orgasm flowed through me, monstrous in its power. I screamed and clutched him, almost unconscious. But then the opposite wall of my cute Victorian house dissolved in a wall of flame, just as my elf came hard inside me, the heat of his cum bathing the walls of my womb. A wave like cool electricity washed over me and the hoards that poised to leap into my bedroom disappeared in a howling rush.
“Goddess, save me, are you the Seeker?” His voice sounded like water over stones. Smooth and clear.
“The what?”
“I must find the Seeker. It is foretold that I am to impregnate her and she will bear the child that will rejuvenate my world.”
“Why would you think I am the Seeker?” I couldn’t keep from asking.
“You are who the Visionary bade me find. A woman of raven hair and violet eyes, curves the Goddess would envy and a mouth made for kissing.”
The way he told it, I sounded sorta like the Seeker babe in question. Then he threw me for a real loop.
“Are you not Philomena? The Visionary saw the name in his scrying mirror.”
Whoa. Not to put too fine a point on it, but that was me. Before I could ask another question, my elf visitor strode forward. Now my eyes were on his awesome weapon of love, and when he took me in his arms, I could feel it, as well as see it.
“We must consummate our love immediately, Mistress Philomena. The Ravens were fast upon my heels. Once my seed has been planted in your womb, they will be powerless until the babe is born.
His arms were around me, and his lips very close. He smelled like grass and sunlight and pine. Deep in the pit of my belly I felt the first curling ache of desire begin to grow. Then I realized that while I’d been staring at him, he’d begun to remove my clothes. T-shirt and thong, they didn’t take long and I was standing naked in his arms, that cock of his pressed against my belly. The ache had moved down and I was wet with wanting exactly what he offered. My mind didn’t seem to comprehend what was happening. Beyond him everything seemed rather blurred and hazy. He lay me down on the sofa, his gaze questioning. It felt like someone else nodded her head, but it was definitely me he slid inside. So tight it was near to pain, he filled me and with concentration he pounded into me. An orgasm flowed through me, monstrous in its power. I screamed and clutched him, almost unconscious. But then the opposite wall of my cute Victorian house dissolved in a wall of flame, just as my elf came hard inside me, the heat of his cum bathing the walls of my womb. A wave like cool electricity washed over me and the hoards that poised to leap into my bedroom disappeared in a howling rush.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
