Boymeat

"I was disappointed I missed your class. I was demo bottoming for another presentation at the same time. So, if you don't mind me picking your brain, how did you get over piss play?"

"I've liked piss since I was a kid. The class was about piss play and different ways to use piss."

"Oh, well... Um, then may I ask your opinion? How can one get over their hangups about piss?"

"There's a few ways. Some people simplify it; think about it like it's just warm water. Others will take the degradation route. Like, say... There are a few drops of piss left on my boots from my class, and only a filthy fucking slut would want to lick the piss off my boots."

I met Boymeat last year. We spoke less then ten words during our initial introduction. Hellos were exchanged as Boymeat began punching a mutual friend. I quietly excused myself as to not disturb the two of them.

The Thursday night of Fusion, I patiently waited for my shift at Playdate with the Pros. I had arrived early in case Shay needed help; she didn't. So I found myself with an hour to kill. And then in a conversation I desperately wanted to have. And then in a situation that both scared and thrilled me.

"Boymeat, do you want to sign up for one of my playdate shifts?"

"No."

"Shit."

"It's so hard, the torture of deciding what to do. Knowing that you'll have to ask for it. Get my permission to lick piss off of my boots. That I won't give you any help. That you will have to make the decision yourself."

I bent and twisted inside. I was wet, wetter than I wanted to admit. The idea of piss play had been on my mind for some time. Readers of this blog may have noticed its occasional appearance in pieces of erotica as of late. And now here was this sick-twisted-incredibly-hot man pushing me to do the things I wanted but feared.

And so, I leapt.

"Boymeat, may I lick the piss off of your boots?"

"Drop."

I sunk down to my knees.

"All the way down."

On all fours, I stared at his leather. At the drops that would soon be in my mouth. I crept towards his boots, stuck out my tongue, and licked. Lapped up his piss. First one boot, and then the other. The event swirled around us, but the people were far way. My world held only my body, writhing in pleasure, and Boymeat's boots for my tasting.

When I finished, I stood, a huge grin on my face. Boymeat adjusted himself.

"The problem with not cuming after your pissing class, and then having someone lick piss off your boots."

He must've seen my smile. Must've noticed the extra perk in my face. Boymeat is great at reading people.

"I'm gonna go sit on a bench over there and light a cigarette. Only a filthy fucking slut would randomly sit down, pull out a cock, and suck it from a guy she's never met. Let's see if a filthy little whore is going to come by and service me."

As soon as he walked away, I dashed about looking for safer sex supplies.

"Where are the condoms?" I asked Shay in my rush. She pointed me towards a small table in the middle of the room.

"Poetic, what's wrong?" asked Stefanos as he mingled among the guests.

"Oh, nothing. I just need a condom, now."

I found the condoms, grabbed one, and scurried through the crowd.

Boymeat had just lit his cigarette when I stood in front of him. He looked up and smiled at me. I handed him the condom. He ripped open the packaging, pulled out his cock, and put it on.

In a breath, I was down on my knees with his covered cock in my mouth.

As my mouth bobbed up and down on him, took all of him in. As Boymeat gripped my hair, guiding my lips along his cock, he spoke sweetnesses into my ear.

"Such a filthy little whore. Such a dirty little slut. Sucking on some stranger's cock. You don't even know me.

"You licked piss off my boots and we barely know each other. You want me to piss on you now, don't you?

"Tonight, when you're lying in bed, touching yourself, you're gonna think about my piss in your mouth. When you masturbate tonight, you're gonna cum to the idea of me pissing all over you."

He fucked my face til he came.

"Are you one of those lucky few whose clit is hard wired for pain?"

"Yes."

He grabbed my shoulders, turned the flesh. He hurt me as I writhed in his crotch. First my head brushed against him stomach, then lifted closer to his face. My body snaked across his chest. My hands rested on his thighs. My noises came. He enjoyed them.

He gripped my breasts, pulling, twisting at the flesh, deep under the muscle, rubbing against my ribs.

"Please. Please."

"Please. I love to hear that."

I was so wet, so slick from his work. I begged. Whispered my pleas.

He allowed me to cum. I twisted in ecstasy from my pleasure and his pain.

He started punching my chest. Concentrated on one side. And planted the seed of yet more fun to come.

"Sometime tomorrow, when you least expect it, I am going to find you, throw you to the ground, rip off your clothes, and pee on you."

Second Wind

We met in the Dungeon soon after parting by the pool. He chose the suspension rig to the left of the stage. I sat down my things, slipped off my sandals.

"Should I take off my clothes?"

"I like to unwrap my presents."

He unrolled what he had dubbed his 'big bundle of ow', a blanket with implements nestled inside of it. One of them included his piece of graphite (shit), but one of his toys was not the Twisted Bitch (thank Christ). He had two floggers, including his big whomping flogger, as well as three or four canes and some rope. I stretched, prepared myself for what was to come. He rigged his ring to the frame.

I stepped to the center of the rig, relaxed, hands resting behind my back. He uncoiled a length of rope. Dragged the chord across my chest. Wrapped it around my neck. Stepped behind me. Pushed his body against mine. My hands felt his cock through his pants. Massaged him as he ran the rope along my skin and breathed into my ear.

He pulled my hair tie from my head. Let it drop to the floor. Let my locks flow down my back.

His hands slid down to mine. Raised them. Bound them. Brought my hands into the air above my head. Secured them to his ring.

He kissed my cheek. Punched my back. Stepped in front of me. Punched my chest. Kissed me more. Traced his fingers from my face down to my chest. Pulled my strapless dress and bra down. Wrenched my boobs. Pushed my dress to the floor. Grabbed my ass. I kicked my dress away. He unhooked my bra. Tossed it aside.

He slapped and punched my chest and ass.

Picked up his flogger. Attacked my back. My ass. Hit my boobs. Went for my nipples, occasionally catching my rings for a split second.

He picked up a cane. Wailed on my ass. Grabbed my hair. Pulled me into a back band. Caned my breasts. Came across my nipples. I cried out.

And then a hand was inside me. He fingered my pussy, dancing his digits in my wetness. And another strike came from his cane, burning sensations on my ass. More fingering. More pain. Alternating the mean with the sweet.

He put down his cane. Picked up his paddle. Again attacked my ass. But, again, his fingers found my cunt, working his magic inside me. I begged, pleaded to cum.

"Not yet." He had one specific demand. "On the third strike." I knew they would be brutal. I always had to earn my orgasms. One hard smack. A second. And then finally a third.

I pulled myself down onto his hand. Rode his fingers for every single molecule of my cum. Screamed and cried out my ecstasy.

He stood. Loosed my wrist rope. Dropped me down to my knees. Kept my hands elevated. Secured the rope again. Pulled out his cock.

He grabbed my hair. Pushed my face onto his cock. Fucked my face. Sunk deep into my throat. I relaxed into his will. Until I had to breathe. Until I could take no more. Until I pulled away. But he held my head. But he insisted. But he wanted his cock inside me.

He pulled my head back. Let me breathe for a moment. Then did it again. And again. And again. I gagged, yet yielded to his will. Took all of him in me.

He rubbed his cock against my face. Let me suck on his balls. Let me play with his cock with my mouth.

He reached up. Let down his rope. Brought it between my legs. Pulled me down into a reverse hogtie. Secured my wrists to my ankles.

I felt his cock rub against my pussy lips and ass cheeks. Felt how hard he was. Felt as he reached over to his bag. Slid on a condom. Slid inside me. I moaned my pleasure. Moaned his name. He grabbed my hips. Pulled my body onto his cock. Fucked me hard on the floor as I took all of him, yet wanted more.

He came. Slid out of me. Reached his fingers inside me. Finger fucked me til I begged for his permission. He gave it. With his yes, I felt the race of orgasm through my pussy out to his hand. Out to my lower back. Down into my thighs. Up my spine. My thank you. My sounds. My cum.

He untied my ankles. Untied my wrists. Pulled me into his lap. Stroked my hair as I curled up into him. Lightly kissed my head. Sunk into his exhausted state, his second wind spent.

Practice

"Poetic, you like breath play."

"Yes."

"And I know you."

"Yes. Rough, do you need a demo bottom for your breath play class?"

"Yes."

"We should probably practice."

"Yes."

Rough stood and beckoned me from the porch into the cabin.

It was early in the event; most people had yet to arrive. We crept through the cabin trying our best to not disturb Gray was napping before dinner. We found an empty quad in the back, new beds barely broken in.

Whispering in the empty room, Rough asked me about my previous experience with breath play. I informed him only one other person had used blood chokes on me: NHF in Minnesota. I described NHF's technique; Rough was familiar with it. I also mentioned how NHF had taken about 7-10 seconds to get me out.

Rough had me stand at the edge of a bed. He stepped behind me. Asked me to lift my head. Point my arm up and to the left at a forty-five degree angle. He wrapped his arm around my neck and squeezed.

I felt my body fall through the air, but I didn't feel the impact of the bed, though I may have heard it. It was as if I were moving through water, as if I were a marionette and the strings on my body had been cut. I never went out, never forgot where I was. But for a moment I lost control of my muscles, lost the ability to stand.

Rough stood over me. "That was faster than seven to ten seconds."

I smiled into the mattress. I talked to him about my experience. Explained what it felt like.

"You were in that sweet spot, loss of body without the loss of consciousness."

We decided to go a bit farther. Again, my arm rose. Again, his arm wrapped around my neck. He squeezed and I held my arm up. Held it with all my might. Held it until...

When my eyes opened, I had forgotten where I was. I don't know what I dreamed, but I know I dreamed something. I looked up and saw the ceiling. When I registered I was in a different place than I had been, that what I thought was real was actually a dream, my memory came crashing back.

I was at camp. Rough was behind me. And I was high as a fucking kite.

I was so gleeful, so full of the awesome with life, that I couldn't stop smiling. I picked my body up off the bed. Rested on my knees on the floor. Looked up at Rough. I couldn't remember feeling this good in so long. I was so appreciative of Rough for giving me this gift, for imparting these feelings in my brain, I asked him an odd question.

"If it is not against your dynamic, may I kiss your boots?"

"Of course."

I bent over and met my lips to his leather. I kissed both his boots in appreciation and adoration for my experience.

My Wednesday had been shit. Setup had been difficult. And hot. And full of starts and stops. And took so long. Before I laid on the porch of the cabin feeling dejected. My camp had just started, but it felt like all my possible glee was gone.

And then Rough's arm had been around my neck. And my world felt right again.

Rough had other material he wanted to go over before class. I stood, my back to the wall, Rough standing in front of me. With a quick move, he clamped his hand over my mouth and nose. I tried to hold back my lizard brain, tried to keep myself from struggling. But soon enough I couldn't stop my hands from grabbing his hold. His other hand found my face. I flailed about. I pulled; he followed.

And then he let go. And breath rushed back into my lungs.

For his next practice, he instructed me to give him a double tap when I wanted him to stop. Again his hands clamped over my mouth and nose. My hands twitched. My feet stomped. I held out for as long as I could trying to stop my lizard brain from reacting. But, eventually, I tapped on his arm four times.

"You know, since that was a quadruple tap, I shouldn't have let go."

He pushed me up against the wall. His fingers pinpointed on my neck. I slipped once, twice, before I felt my muscles about to give out. Rough slipped his knee between my legs to stop my descent.

"How are you?"

"Excellent."

"How do you feel about face slapping?"

"Absolutely."

Rough hit me hard across the face, left to right. He grabbed my head and bashed it against the wall. All the while, my arms lazed at my sides, scratching against the wall.

"What's with the gripping?"

"When I'm cuming, or when I'm about to cum, I grip. When I'm turned on, or wet, I grip. It's fun when I'm on a bed."

Rough sat on the bed to my left. I settled against the wall for a moment, perfectly happy, before transitioning to the bed on my right.

"Why would anyone take drugs when you can do things to make your body this high?"

I rested my head against the wall, lazing in my post play haze. In that moment, I was completely uninhibited, and decided to be bluntly honest.

"You have this look in your eyes. You always have it. It's... gripping. Intoxicating."

I saw his satisfaction at my revelation.

"You know I'm gonna write about this, right?"

"Kinda figured. Just wait til Tuesday."

In that moment before dinner, before it was time to wake Gray, I realized I didn't have my notebook on me. I needed to take notes, now. I made my way back to my cabin.

As I skipped towards my temporary home, a giddy-happy-bubbly-girl, I stroked my neck and said over and over again to everyone and no one in particular, "My life doesn't suck. My life doesn't suck. I love my life."

Little One

~ erotica ~


She rode his face, her hips rising and falling with the bend of her knees. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her pussy to his lips, as he enjoyed every last bit of her. She reclined her head back, body rolling, as his tongue moved just the way she liked.

I had the perfect view. My mouth around his cock. My hands resting on my lower back. My eyes focused on them.

It wasn't everyday they allowed me to participate, let alone watch. It wasn't every day that I got see them, both of them, this way. But this wasn't any normal day.

One year. One year since we started our interactions. One year since I walked through their front door, got down on my knees, and asked them to have me. One year of learning what they wanted, how they wanted it. One year of being at their beck and call. Doing this. Completing that. And always, always ready to be on my hands and knees, all holes open for whatever either wanted.

I circled my tongue around the head of his cock and flicked just underneath. I moved the way I knew he loved, playing with his dick as I pleasured him, taking glee in my work. Closing my eyes, I sucked hard, and slowly filled my mouth and throat with him, sinking his cock inside me. I slid my mouth up and down his shaft. Slowly. Slowly. He never wanted to cum too fast. I never wanted to stop sucking his cock.

I felt the grip of my hair. Felt the hand pull my mouth off his cock. Opened my eyes, and saw her, still riding him, a fury in her gaze equal parts anger and lust.

She stared at me forever before slapping me across my face. Then again, backhanding my cheek.

"Try harder," she said before forcing my mouth back onto his cock. I clenched my hands. My pussy quivered. I was glad she couldn't see how wet I was.

She pushed and pulled my head on his cock, quickening my pace, bringing him closer and closer to his cum. He started moaning into her cunt. She purred at his sounds, the vibration adding that much more pleasure to her fun.

"That's it, little thing. Make him cum."

Her hand released my hair, but I felt her will pushing me still. I continued my speed along his cock. Continued my tongue dancing along his shaft. Continued to take him into my throat. It wasn't long before his hips moved. His cock twitched. And he screamed and spewed his cum into my mouth.

I heard her, too, as she came on his face. Her guttural growl as the wave of ecstasy rolled throughout her body.

I swallowed his semen, licked my lips, and sat back on my feet, eyes lowered, waiting whatever they asked of me.

"What do you think," he asked her as he wiped the pussy juice, saliva, and sweat from his face. He wore the grin I loved, the one he always had after I made him cum.

She stood, her stiletto boots making her tower over me. She stared down on his unassuming frame.

"She's useful," he said. "And talented."

"I had to coach her."

"You had to encourage her. And that's only cause you weren't patient. You never want a long slow fuck."

"But she does."

I made sure not to look up, not to move.

"You love sucking his cock. Would love to do it all day and all night, I'm sure. Is that right?"

She had asked a direct question. I had to answer.

"Yes, Mistress."

"What about my pussy? Would you lick and suck it til the Sun rose?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Hmm..."

"I told you," he said. "She's useful."

"And eager. I think I will teach you how I want my pussy licked, since you seem to have mastered his cock just fine. I think we will keep you around a bit longer. Does this please you, little one?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Submit

~ erotica ~


"You must conquer me."

It was what he had heard before. The first had said it to him. She had spoken her truth on her knees in front of him their first night together.

"I want you to take me. To over power me. Break my will. Make me bend to you. Force your control upon me.

"I won't make it easy. I'll fight you, fight your will at every turn. But know that it's my greatest desire for you to win. I want you to find a way to make me yours, make me submit to you.

"I'll never just strip for you. You must tear my clothes apart. I'll never cater to your every whim. You must push me to do as you wish. I'll never beg or plead for your body, nor will I ever simply lay down my flesh at your feet just because it is your desire to have me. You must take what's yours. Fight my fury for every kiss and fuck you wish to have.

"I want you to conquer me. Can you? Will you?"

He tried, but never did.

This night, our first night, I sat on my knees in front of him prepared to speak my truth.

I was not her. And I knew I would say something all together different.

"I submit to you.

"I give my body to your desires. My will to your guidance. I kneel here in awe of you.

"My greatest wish is my head on your knee. Your hand caressing my hair. Knowing all is right because I am here with you and you are here with me.

"I want only to be yours, totally and completely. I ask for the privilege of being dominated by you. Of submitting to you. Please tell me what you want; I will fulfill it. Make any rule; I will follow it. Give me the tools to please you and I will never go astray.

"Use my body as you desire. My mouth, my pussy, my flesh is for your enjoyment whenever you have need of it. My mind is to be cultivated from your knowledge. My life enriched by being yours.

"Please, may I submit to you?"

Cuddles

Text me, don't knock.

I took my things upstairs. Dumped my kit just inside the door. Then walked across the hotel. Made my way up to the suite. 


Here.

A few breaths later, the door opened. The room was dark. I stepped inside. Saw shoes by the front. Thought, to be polite, I should take off my boots.

I sat my jacket and water bottle on a table. Bent down. Went for a lace.

He grabbed me by my hair. Pulled me into his room. Closed the door. Threw me against the bed. I stumbled, knees on the floor, leaning against the mattress.

"Now you can take off your boots."

I stood. Leaned against the tall bed. Reached down. Unlaced my first boot. Tugged it off. Threw it and my sock aside. Repeated. My lacing, intricate, takes time to unwind.

He sat on a comfy chair in the corner. I took off my badge. Put it on a table. Rested my glasses next to it.

I sat on the floor at the corner of the bed. Faced him. Had one knee up. Pulled my legs in tight. Looked at him as he read.

"Why are you wearing your dress?"

I turned around. Stood up on my knees. Reached down. Pulled my gray mesh dress off. Made sure to wiggle my ass. Unhooked my bra. Flung my clothes in the pile with my boots.

"How many RopenSpace tattoos do you have?"
"Not many. Just four."

I smiled. One of the of temporary tattoos sat just above my ass crack. His comment reminded me.

"Take off my boots."

I crawled over to him. Went for his left foot first. Rolled his pant leg up. Unlaced his leather. Spread the two sides. Worked the laces loose. Rested my head on the toe. My hands held his heal. He pulled his foot out. I set his boot to my right. Worked on his right. Put it by its mate.

"Would you like to taste my cock?"

I reached up. Unbuttoned his pants. Pulled out his cock. Took him into my mouth. Licked his balls. Enjoyed it all. I'd missed the taste and feel of him.

He stood up. Pushed down his slacks. They landed in a puddle by his ankles.

"Take off my pants."

I pulled them from his feet. Put the fabric by his boots.

He grabbed my hair. Fucked my face. I sat on my feet. Rested my hands on the small of my back. Took him as he wished.

"You make it so hard to just read and go to bed."

After 69 and 96. After fisting and rimming. Titty fucking and cuming.  Passed out.  Slept.  And the next morning I did the walk of pride, happiness, and enjoyment back to my hotel room.

Three Ashes

The 1st
"Poetic, would you like some ash?"


She looked over at me, huge smile on her face, a two inch head standing vertical on her cigar.

"Oh God, yes," I said, my submissive voice squeaking out. "I've cried each time ash was flicked into the tray."

On my hands and knees, I crawled towards her. Stopped. Sat on my feet. Opened my mouth wide and put out my tongue.

She rolled the ash into my mouth. I held the lump for her and the rest near her to see. I looked at her. I smiled with my eyes. Made a small connection.

"Thank you," she said. "You can swallow."

I closed my mouth and grinned. Then crawled away, happy.



The 2nd

"Poetic?"

He had a pretty head of ash ready for my mouth. I extracted myself from my corner. Bodies squeezed together to fight off the chill in the air and the wind that assaulted us on the balcony.

I crawled towards him, head bent. Rested my hands on his knees to keep balance. As I was about to sit on my feet, his hand found the back of my head. Gently petted my hair. I stayed as I was. Head bent. Forehead near his crotch. A feeling of connection being built. I nuzzled a little. Purred a bit. Felt warmth even though it was so cold.

A small touch on my chin signaled for my head to rise. I looked into his dark eyes. Saw him, and his ash.

"Open your mouth. Wider."

I did as he told. Tilted my head back. He rolled his ash into my mouth. I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened again. Looked into his eyes once more. Our gaze locked. I felt transfixed.

He brought his cigar to the side of my face. I felt the heat near my skin. Heard the burning of my hair. Didn't move because he didn't want me to.

A caress of my chin closed my mouth. His fingers traced across my cheek and back down. I closed my eyes. Leaned my head into his touch. Let myself get lost in our shared moment.

His hand stilled. I opened my eyes again.

He thanked me. I thanked him. And then crawled back to my spot.



The 3rd

He looked over at me, a knowing grin on his face.

"Poetic?"

He was only two seats away, yet he was the hardest to get to. We'd all huddled in close, trying desperately to fight nature. I backed out, swiveled around, and meeped as I sat in place in front of him.

His eyes were intense. His small smile almost mischievous. His hand reached behind me. Grabbed my hair. Controlled my head. Brought it forward.

I opened my mouth. Stuck out my tongue. He rolled his ash. I felt the heat of the cherry near me. He kept his eyes on mine. Saw his control over me. My submission to him. Had me close my mouth. Thanked me in his quiet yet strong voice.

I smiled and thanked him as well.

Crawled away. Found my spot. Snuggled up to those beside me. Happy to be around people I don't see nearly enough.

Crotch Rope

~ erotica ~



My clit throbbed. I hadn't cum yet. The rope had only been on me for a few minutes.

He'd taken out the coil, my rope, and knelt in front of me. I'd let my hands laze in his hair as he worked. Wrapped once around my hips. Once under my ass. Knotted. Threaded the rope down between my lips. Brought it back up. Made a knot. Pulled tight through my pussy. Passed under the bands in back. Yanked down. Ran under the bottom band. Brought the rope back up. Tied it again. Tight. Knotted the excess around my waist loosely.

"Good. Go put in the laundry."

My face asked a question; my voice was silent.

"You heard me. Go put in the laundry."

I harrumphed before walking away.

Immediately, with my first step, I felt it. Every movement was different. Every swish of my hips. I bent to pick up the basket. I took the stairs to the basement. I filled the washer, bending and lifting. Never had a hated choir been so fun. I bounced back up the stairs. Up was so much more fun than down.

I stood in front of him.

"Sit," he said.

And here I am now. Minutes later.

He looms over me. I can't help but squirm in my chair. Even the slightest movement is wondrous. Full of an almost guilty pleasure.

He just looks down on me and smiles.

"Stop."

"But..."

"Stop."

I don't move.

But I can't not move. I bite my forefinger. And pulse. Pulse my clit against the knot. And look up at him with my puppy dog eyes. I beg without words. Let him see my torment. My pain. He loves to see my pain.

He bends down. Whispers into me ear.

"Go to bed."

I gasp, then scamper to our room. Every step is more glorious than the next.

I pull back the covers. Again, I sit. Then lay down. And then writhe. Face down. Snaking my body against mattress. Fucking myself with my rope. With the knot he tied. And it grows. And grows.

I turn my head. He's there. Staring. Smiling.

"Are you close?"

"Almost."

"Get closer."

I ease my hips up and down. I feel him watching me. My breathing quickens.

"Please?"

He flicks open his knife. I feel a yank on the rope. A moment of ease.

And then he's inside me. And he's pulling the rope in time with his thrusts. And the knot is against my clit. And he's pumping in and out.

And I scream, "Please?"

"Yes."

And I scream again.

Afterwards, I feel a little sad. Until he kisses my cheek, smiles, and says, "It's still long enough for next time."

Zipper

~ erotica ~



His face was blank, cold. He worked quietly, except for the muted snap. He held the ribbon with one hand and lined up the medical staple gun with the other, making sure his aim was just so. He was creating art, cruel art, for his enjoyment.

This went on for what seemed like forever. Line up the ribbon, line up the staple gun, check his aim, and crack. Another piece of metal into my skin.

I tried not to move or make a sound. Tried not to meep or shriek. Tried to keep my breath from slipping into staccato. If I reacted, gave any indication, I knew two things would happen. One, he would be pleased that his torments were taking effect. And two, his treatment of my flesh would be worse. More art would adorn me. More pain inflicted. And his big flourish would be that much more to take in.

For it wasn't just the pattern he created that thrilled him. It wasn't just the zigzags or loops or whirls, the curves raised above my skin. No, it was the final pull, unzipping his zipper, that gave him his real thrill.

When he was finished with his work, he took a step back and admired his craft. A small, almost undetectable smirk, emerged on his face.

He set down the staple gun and slowly walked behind me. I felt his body next to mine. His crotch against ass. His chest against my shoulder blades. The musky smell of his cologne drifted into my nostrils.

Following the rules, I slid my arms behind him. Delicately gripped his ass. Lifted and exposed my chest. Propped up his art. Made my body ready for his fun. My head rested on his shoulder. I looked up at him for a few breaths before turning my head and closing my eyes.

He reached over my body and danced his fingertips along the pattern of metal. With every touch I had to keep myself from jumping. I could feel even the whisper of the air moving over my skin as his hands took in his work.

This was the most staples he'd ever put in me. And I knew there was only a few more breaths before the wave of pain and pleasure would arrive.

"Ready?"

I inhaled. Gritted my teeth.

"Yes."

I felt him lift up on the ends of the ribbon, which he'd placed above each breast. The moment was about to happen.

But as he lifted, he didn't jerk. Didn't yank. Just lifted, pulled, harder and harder yes, but slowly. I felt my skin stretch as he raised me up, up. I felt my spine compress as I tried to rise with his hands. At a certain point, though, all I could do was hold still. Take in the sensation.

Pop.

The first two staples at the ends of the ribbon released. I muffled a cry, but I knew he heard it anyway.

His hands remained high, pulling at the next pair of staples. Keeping my chest arched up towards the heavens.

Pop.

The next two staples partially broke free of my skin. I felt the jerk of the ribbon on the next pair, and tried to quiet a shriek. I could feel the smile on his face, seeing me endure his torture.

He lifted the right side higher now. My chest contorted, trying to alleviate some of the pain.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Three more staples broke free. A tear for each slid down my cheeks. He bowed his head and lapped up the droplets.

The ribbon no longer crossed on itself, looking now like an angled number six.

"Fast or slow?"

He'd never given me a choice before. He'd never put this many staples in me before, either. Fifteen little pieces of metal in my body. Fifteen little glints reflecting the light he shone on my skin. Eight more still had to be released from my flesh. Now I would decide how that would happen.

"Medium."

Even in my pain, I couldn't pass up an opportunity to be just a little bratty.

"Hmm," he said. I heard the amusement in his utterance.

He relaxed his hold on the ribbon. I relaxed my chest back down.

He ran his left arm across my neck, lifting my head up. His right hand held one end of the ribbon.

He pulled.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

Each staple released as he jerked at the ribbon, jerked at my skin. My body reacted without my will. Staccato breaths on each pull. New tears on my face. Muffled weeps with each shock of pain. And finally, on the last staple, he held it. And held it. Just at the threshold of release.

"Beg me."

"Please. Please. Please hurt me. Take it out of me. Relish in my pain."

There was a split second where his grip relaxed. And then his arm swung out hard and the staple flew out of my skin. I screamed my pain. Cried into his arm.

He melted his body against mine. I felt his hard cock against my ass. He rubbed his cheek against my face and sighed his pleasure.

Even as I cried, my pussy throbbed from the pain and ecstasy of his art.

Salivate

~ erotica ~



He had a curious grin on his face.

"Why are you smiling?"
"Because it's you. It's actually you."
"You did read the model release form, correct?"
"Yeah."
"And my name was on the letterhead."
"Yeah, but. You don't think you'll actually meet the head of the company on your first audition."

Another one, fresh from the farm, looking for fame. How cute.

"First audition?"
"Yes Ma'am."

And he Ma'am-ed her.

"You do realize what kind of porn we make here?"
"You make all kinds of porn, Ma'am."
"Yes. What was your name?"
"Samuel."
"Of course. Yes Samuel, we make all kinds of porn for almost every genre."
"Then this is where I want to be."
"Really. Why?"

He seemed taken aback by her question. But then he stopped, gave it a few breaths of thought, and spoke.

"Ma'am, I left home because no one there could understand me. I grew up in a very strict religious household in a very closed off town that had one way of thinking and being. And that way was not who I was. I realized that pretty early on and kept quiet about it. But then I couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to just leave. Packed a bag and came here."
"Why here?"
"You're the reason why I found my courage. I found your stuff, clips of your porn on the Internet, and for the first time I realized I wasn't alone. Other people wanted, if I may be so crude as to say, the same kinds of dirty nasty downright wrong sex I dreamed of since I first starting jacking off. The kind I thought only I loved. The kind I knew, if I ever told anyone in my town, would have me beat or worse. To learn I wasn't alone. To learn there were other people, lots of other people like me. Of course I had to come."

For the first time, she looked at him. Really looked at him.

He was a cookie cutter image of down home raised 100% American red meat. Just what her audience would eat up. But there was also a genuineness in his eyes. He meant every word he said. Everything out of his mouth rang true.

Standing there, naked in front of her, lights shining on his tanned skin, completely naked, cock out for the world to see, yet this boy was comfortable. Relaxed even. A light went on in her head. There was possibility in this boy.

Still, she needed proof.

"You listed Anything Goes as your preferred porn category. Do you really mean that?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Until I yell Red, I'll take it all."
"Well, we don't have to start out with that today. How about just a test shoot. Are you up for that?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I'd love to."
"Good. Andre!"

She yelled for her assistant. He hurried into the room, latte in hand.

"Thank you, my love."
"He's cute," said the tall gay man.
"Indeed. Andre, darling. Take off your clothes."
"Ms. Hunt, I."
"Andre, you've been good to me this past year, learning everything I've taught you quite quickly. Up until this moment, your performance has been excellent. Do not disappoint me now. Take off your clothes."

Andre took pride in his wardrobe, dressing to fit his status as Sandra Hunt's right hand. Well balanced colors. Polished shoes. Silk ties. Removing his clothes felt dirty, beneath him. What he didn't realize was that Sandra was about to reward him for his work.

"Samuel."
"Yes, Ma'am."

There was a look in Samuel's eyes. His stare didn't leave Andre from the moment he walked into the room.

"Samuel, you are going to suck Andre's cock. He, as with all my employees, is regularly tested for STI's. You, by merely being here for this audition, have also been tested and come up clean. Are you comfortable sucking Andre's cock?"

And there it was. She saw it, plain as day. The way his eyes shot open. The lick of his lips, salivating over the idea of what was to happen next.

"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Andre?"
"Yes, Ms. Hunt?"
"Stand next to Samuel."

Sandra turned and pressed record on the small digital camera a top a tripod beside her.

"Let's see. Andre, will you need a chair?"
"No, Ms. Hunt."
"Samuel, will you need a pillow for your knees?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Samuel, will this be the first cock you've ever sucked?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Think of this as a lesson. One that will help you in your coming years."

Sandra glanced down at Samuel's cock. Whereas before it was barely at half staff, he was now standing a full attention.

"Samuel, first you'll want to stroke Andre's cock. Think of how you'd want your own cock touched, caressed. That's good. Now, don't forget the balls. Use both hands. Can you hear Andre, how his breathing's changed. That's what you want. That's how you know you're doing it right. You want to try to read to Andre's reactions. Listen to his body. His non-verbal cues. Also he may guide you with his hands. Andre."
"Yes. Yes, Ms. Hunt."
"Put your hand on Samuel's shoulder and push him down. Good Andre. Now Samuel. See how Andre's cock has grown a bit. He's becoming aroused. Do you like that, knowing it's you who's making this happen?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Are you ready to take him in your mouth?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. First, lick your lips. I imagine your mouth is already wet, salivating even, at the idea of Andre's cock in it. Start out with just licking the tip. Good. All around it. Now close your lips around the head. Be sure to cover your teeth with your lips. Now stroke his cock with your mouth. Up and down. Up and down. All along his shaft. How deep can you get him in your mouth? Can you take more of him? More? You feel Andre's fingers in your hair. He'll guide you. Glide you along his cock. Encourage his cock deeper into your throat. Do you like that? How Andre is using you. Making you take his cock. Making you take all of him. Fucking your face."

Sandra didn't know how far Samuel would go. Didn't know yet how far she could push him. But the thought of this fresh face, his fresh mouth, his cherry ass, and all the money she could make off of him made even the harden Sandra Hunt quiver at the thought.

Penetrated

~ erotica ~


"Turn your ass towards the camera."

She did as she was told.

"Spread your cheeks. Wider. I want to see your asshole before I fill it."

She didn't like this angle. She wanted to see her Master, glimpse his face on the screen as he ordered her around. Still, she always did as she was told.

"Have you been training like to I instructed?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Because if you haven't this will not be fun for you. We both know, no matter what, this is going to be fun for me. Go get the package I sent you."
"Yes, Master."

She scurried across her room, picked up the box, and placed it on the bed.

"Open it."

She tore at the packaging. Inside was filled with tissue paper. Lifting the delicate wrapping, she saw it.

"Master?"
"Get the bottle of lube."

It sat on her end table.

"Turn your ass towards me. Spread your cheek with one hand. Lube up my pretty little hole with the other."

It was his hole, his mouth, his body, to be used in anyway he saw fit. She remembered that, loved that, as she pumped lube onto her fingertips and caressed her opening for him to watch.

"More. Good. Stick a finger in. That's it. Shove some more lube inside. You'll need it next."

She did as she was told.

"Now pick it up."

It was heavy, which made sense. It was big. Bigger than she'd ever taken before.

"Lube all around it."

It looked like a freakishly large tear drop. She thought this ironic. She was sure there would soon be tears.

"Now bring the tip to my hole. Keep spreading your cheek with your other hand. Is the tip against my hole?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Push."

It was as she knew, at first. The familiar relaxation, letting go, letting something in. Only it kept getting bigger. And bigger. And bigger. She eased it in slowly, asshole spreading, as her Master watched and spoke.

"That's my good little slut, getting her asshole spread wide open for her Master. Filling my hole to the brim.

"How does it feel, my little slut? To have something of mine in you. To feel it slide into your ass. Filling your hole. I want to see you take it. Take all of it. All of it. Me filling you to the brim."

She worked it in slowly, an eighth of an inch at a time. Breathing. Relaxing. With his voice, imaging it was his hand pushing the plug into her. His slow movement, filling her ass up.

"Fuck!"

It was in. All the way in. Her ass stretched more and filled fuller than ever before.

Her eyes were soaked with tears she willed herself not to cry. Her body shivered from the over stimulation, wanting desperately to cum.

"Master, may I?"
"My little slut took all of it. Sucked my plug into her ass just like I told her too. Turn around, I want to see your face. Are those tears?"
"Yes, Master."
"From the endurance?"
"Yes, Master."
"You are going to endure a bit more for me. Position five."

She paused for a moment before accepting his command. Lifting her torso up, she sat back, her ass against her feet, her hands on her thighs. She tried her best not to groan as her own body weight pushed the plug in just a little farther.

"Good, my little slut. Position six."

She tucked her toes under, lifting her body up just a little. She spread her knees, showing her Master her slut pussy. She interlocked her fingers behind her head. Sat back on her heels.

"Good, my little slut. Play with your clit."

She licked her fingertips and began rubbing herself. Her body could barely take any more sensation. But she pushed through. She would do anything her Master wished.

"I want to see my plug in you. Position seven."

She turned, ass up in the air, back arched, arms stretched out in front as her tits tickled against her bed spread.

"Did I tell you to stop playing with yourself?"
"No Master."

Her hand went back to her clit.

"Start hitting my plug with your other hand."

She was forced to balance her body on her face and shoulders, but she didn't care. Every inch of her body was energized, fueled by her Master's cruel lust. She slapped the plug's base while playing with herself, her ass and pussy right in front of the camera for her Master to see. She moaned despite herself.

"My little slut."
"Yes, Master."
"Cum."

She gasped. Bit her bed spread. Rubbed her clit faster. Slapped her plug harder. Panted. Her body convulsed. She screamed, "Thank you Master. Thank you Master." And came as her Master watched.

When she finished, she sat in front of the laptop in position five, plug still delightfully inside her.

"My little slut, it's getting late. I have to go to bed, and so do you. But before we part, position seven."

She turned and stretched out her body.

"Now, relax and pull out my plug. Slowly. Just as slowly as when I ordered it into your body."

She gripped the base and eased out the teardrop. New tears entered her eyes as the plug left her ass. Her Master was leaving her body. Taking away that piece of him she'd accepted into herself. She worked the toy out, trying to enjoy each minuscule sensation as it exited her ass.

When gone from her hole, she returned to position five, plug in hand.

"You will do this every third night for two weeks, just as we have just done. My plug in. You playing with yourself. Cuming. And then pulling my plug out."
"Yes, Master."
"And you will remember whose name to scream, who to thank each time my plug is filling you up and making you cum?"
"Yes, Master."
"Until next time, my little slut, when on the fifteenth day I will be there in the flesh, and it will be my hand penetrating you."

Orals

~ erotica ~


"How was your test?"
"Brutal."
"I thought college was suppose to be about learning. This shit feels more like torture."
"Indeed."

~

"When examining the works of. Of. Copley. When examining his portraits. On the whole. One sees. Oh God."
"This is not religion class, Ms. Lane. And though Copley's work is magnificent, I do not believe anyone has seen God in his art. Start again."
"Yes, Mr. Cecil."

Penny bit her lip, gripped the edge of his desk, and dung in her nails. Mr. Cecil knelt down and again pressed his lips onto Penny's clit.

"When examining the portraits. Mmm. Of. Mmm. Of Copley. One sees. One sees his exper. His exper. His expertise. In capturing. Detail. Form. And the human fa-a-ace."

Penny's voice rose an octave as her hips tilted up.

"The human face, you say?" said Mr. Cecil through teeth gripping Penny's mons.
"Yes. Sir. His a-bil-i-ty. To paint. Life. Like. Portraits. Surpassed. His. Con-tem-por-ar-ries."

Mr. Cecil relaxed his teeth.

"Can you give an example of this skill?"
"Yes, Sir."

Mr. Cecil resumed enjoying Penny's pussy.

"Copley was so. So detailed. In his work!"

Mr. Cecil slid two fingers into Penny's pretty pussy.

"So detailed, Ms. Lane?"
"So detailed! That portraits. Featuring! Men wearing. Formal white wigs! Include. Include powder. From. From their. From their wigs. Kissing."
"Kissing?"

Mr. Cecil stood, wrapped his free arm around Penny's neck, and pivoted her body up. As he brought his lips to Penny's mouth, embracing his ever eager student, he pistoned his fingers in and out of her hot pussy. Penny squealed, tasting her pussy on her mentor's lips, on his tongue, in his mouth, and cuming on his hand.

Mr. Cecil grabbed Penny's hair, tilted her head back, and said, "Kissing?"

"Kissing their shoulders."
"Very good, Ms. Lane. A+ on your oral exam."

Instruction

~ a story ~



It was a simple request.

I was known for my cigar service, my love and care in the role. The time I'd taken to learn about the act, as well as multiple types of cigars and the accoutrement surrounding the ritual.

The Top was respected in our community, though I had little time interacting with him. He was quiet, reserved without being introverted. He listened more than he spoke, but when he did utter words they were always worth hearing.

I found him alluring, enticed by his mystery and beauty. He was handsome. A shock of gray down one side of his hair. Fit firm frame. Always wearing leather boots. Ever meticulous in his appearance. Whenever possible, a cigar in his hand.

So when he approached me at the end of a party, with few else still around, and long past his normal departure time, I stood up straight. I held my hands behind my back. I gave him due deference to his station in our community.

"Kat, nice to see you this evening."
"You as well. I trust you enjoyed your time tonight."
"Immensely. Thank you for your attendance during the smoker."
"It was my pleasure."
"I could see that. You take great pleasure in cigar service."
"Yes, I do."
"Do you teach?"
"On occasion, if the opportunity presents itself."
"I'm sure you excel at teaching as I've seen you excel at most everything."
"Thank you. Your appreciation of my efforts is quite humbling."
"I have a girl. She's pretty, but shy. Would you meet her?"
"Yes, of course. When?"
"Tomorrow?"
"I am off tomorrow. Your address?"
"I will text you."
"Supplies?"
"I have my own already."
"What time?"
"7:30pm. Just before sunset."
"Very well. Last, what honorific would you like?"
"She calls me Daddy. You, Kat, may call me Sir."
"Thank you, Sir, for your invitation and confidence in my abilities."

His home was brick, large, in a quiet part of the city with trees lining the lane and no homes less than one hundred feet apart. I parked in his driveway, pulled out my messenger bag, and walked up to his door. Checking my phone, it was 7:15pm.

As soon as I knocked, I heard scurrying footsteps approach the door. As the door opened, I glimpsed a petite woman with short brown hair wearing a pink sundress, glasses, and sandals. She smiled at me for only a moment before darting her eyes to the ground.

"You must Kat. Hi."

Her words were quick, darting almost as fast as her eyes had.

"Hello. Excuse my early arrival."
"May I take your bag for you?"
"Of course."

I handed her my messenger bag. She gestured for me to enter, then closed the door behind me.

His home held an air of sophistication without the pomp and circumstance. Shelves housed what seemed like years of knick-knacks from a life well lived. The furniture was a mixed of deep browns and black, all leather. A fireplace to my right as I entered with pictures on the mantel. A tall wide wooden staircase to my left. On the far right, black marble on the kitchen floors and blood red marble for the counter tops. A heavy wooden dining table to my far left.

She led me to the back patio, viewable through the open air arrangement of the home. He sat beneath an awning, donned in full leathers, staring out into the backyard garden and the trees behind his home. The plume from his already half smoked cigar danced up in a curvy line.

She slid the glass door open, waited for me to exit, and then closed the door behind me.

"I expected you'd be early."
"Pardon my..."
"No pardon necessary. I appreciate your punctuality."

He waved me over to a chair near his with his cigar hand, drawing a smokey form in the air; I sat.

"Would you like something to drink or eat?"

On the small table was a host of cold finger foods: fresh fruit, raw vegetables, and small slices of cheese. A pitcher of lemonade perspired, a few drops of water kissing the metal table. His girl sat down my bag beside me, picked up a glass, and poured me a drink before my answer. She then sat on a pillow at the foot of her Daddy.

"Thank you for your hospitality."
"Thank you for your time."

I sipped the cold beverage and tried to relax in the warm Spring air.

Looking over, I saw how he lazily stroked his girl's hair. She nuzzled his hand and softly cooed. For a moment, I felt a twinge of envy. She looked so happy, so peaceful, so pleased there at his knee. Their manner was matter-of-fact. This was their life. They fit together so well.

He tapped her on the shoulder. She cupped her hands, one over the other, and held them up as if in supplication. He rolled his ash into her hands. She continued to hold her hands up until he tapped her on the shoulder again. She then licked up the ash from her palm.

My emotions turned from envy to confusion.

"Sir, why am I here?"
"You know cigar service, and this is my Sunday afternoon cigar time."
"Yes, but she knows cigar service."
"Yes."
"Why am I here to teach her if she needs no instruction?"
"Teach her?"

Confusion came into his eyes. And then a moment of understanding.

"No. I should have been more clear. I wanted you here to be next to her, to play with us. Tonight is, for lack of a better word, a date."

At once my heart jumped into my throat. I felt horrible at my previous moment of envy, yet also joyous at the idea of what the next moment could bring, if I were brave enough to ask the question straining from my lips.

"Sir, might I request a small gesture?"
"Of course. You are our guest. Ask anything."
"Might I sit at your other knee?"

For the first that evening, and my first time witnessing it, a wide grin burst across his face. His girl peeked up at me, a flash of glee in her eyes. Before he uttered a word, she scurried off and brought back a matching pillow, sitting it on the other side of her Daddy before returning to her spot.

"Well, you have my girl's answer. Mine is the same."

I sunk down from my chair, crawled the minuscule distance over, and nestled myself on the pillow. Leaning my head against his knee, he caressed my cheek with his right hand, his cigar hand, as smoke danced around my face.

I could hear her cooing, and his breathing, as I closed my eyes and actually, truly, relaxed.

CCon Fantasy

~ erotica ~



The beginnings of this story happened while I was in bed at CatalystCon, awake Sunday morning, even though I didn't want to be, horny beyond reprieve, trying to find a way to calm my passion filled body and mind. Enjoy...

~

He hovered behind me, the heat of his body increasing the wetness of my sex. Leaning down, he hooked a finger into the skirt of my dress and slowly pulled up. Over my thighs. Over my ass. Passing by my non-existant panties. Finally resting at the cleft of my waist, where he stopped, and squeezed my pelvic bone. The instinctual sway of my hips came, and I deliciously, inadvertently, brushed my ass against his cock, which had since grown hard and thick below his towel.

I smelled the musk of his bath wash, felt the slight dampness of his skin through my dress. I had hoped to slip quietly out of his room before he finished bathing. I didn't want to make a big deal out of his kind gesture the evening before, didn't want to make the morning awkward, didn't want to reveal how much I wanted more than just kind gestures from him.

His hands traveled up over the cloth of my dress, caressing each curve as he traversed my body. This time he slipped his hands down from above, deftly unhooking my bra, but also unsecuring its straps. He slipped the undergarment from beneath my dress, and whispered into my ear, "You will not wear this today." I bit my lip, feeling a twinge of excitement in my loins from his words.

Bent over the bed, hands planted on the mattress, I expected, no hoped, no dreamed, no desired...

Fuck, I wanted him to fuck me from behind. I wanted his hand planted on my back pushing me down. I wanted his other hand in my hair pulling my head up and pounding my pussy senseless.

When I felt his hands against my thighs, encouraging my legs open, my newest fantasy seemed like it would soon be a reality.

But, instead, he knelt down, turned around, and sat on the floor, his back against the bed, positioning his face just away from my pussy lips, his mouth ready to taste my folds. He hooked his arms around my thighs and pulled my crotch towards his mouth.

First, I felt the kiss of his lips, and then came the flick of his tongue over my clit. I was grateful for the bed's support. My knees buckled from the pleasure, resting on each side of his head as he continued to devour me.

"Please, oh God, please. Please let me fuck your face. Please, please. Please may I fuck your face?"

He stopped eating my cunt, tilted his head up, caught my eye, and said more than I had hoped for in such few words.

"Don't ask; just do."

His mouth and tongue returned to my throbbing lips. I used my hips to rock against his face, circles and tilts gyrating my sex against his mouth. His eating grew more fervent, his nails sinking into my flesh, holding on tight to my thighs as he plunged himself into enjoying my sex.

I gripped the sheets, threw my head back, and screamed my ecstasy as my first orgasm riped through my body. And then another. And then another.

I fucked his face til my thighs ached, til my muscles shoke, til my pussy was sore, til my clit pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, til my skin was drenched in his spit and my cum.

Winning

"Your blogs have been pretty intense lately."

Yeah, about that...

I realize as of late that my entries have been heavy. Life, contemplating my place in this world, how I got here and where I'm going, heavy. And I realize that is not what one would instantly expect from this blog.

Don't get me wrong, and I will just say this to be blunt: I'm gonna write whatever the fuck I want here. That has been my goal from the start, and if that ever changes I don't know if I'll blog anymore.

Still, I don't want to give people the wrong impression. My life is pretty fucking good. Occasionally I'll have these moments when it is actually pretty fucking awesome. Not perfect, but definitely awesome.

Case and point (and bringing the sexy back, as it were), there was definitely a good hour and a half at Winter Fire where I was absolutely winning.

I had arranged a playdate with Shay Saturday evening. In the lobby of the hotel, we discussed what we wanted from our scene. She was interested in fire play and positions training. That sounded great to me, my only stipulation being I was not in the mood for penetrative play.

Heading down to the dungeon, we found a massage table by the far wall and setup. My friend Alice came by to watch and practice her fire play, to which both Shay and I consented.

We started our scene with me just in my black wrap dress. Shay was pleasantly surprised at how accessible it made me as she took the single piece of cloth off to reveal my nakedness beneath the fabric.

Shay inspected my body as she ran me through several poses. She wanted my feet in specific configurations, as well as my hands. There were variations between service poses versus more sexual poses. It all rung my service/submissive bells quite well.

As Shay went through the poses, she constantly rubbed all over my body both with her hands and her boots. I was incredibly turned on by the end of her instructions and quizzing.

Transitioning to the table, she had me start on my stomach. Though we had had a brief fire play encounter during the opening ritual, this felt more connected and definitely more intense.

Shay traced lines of flame over my body, down my back, my legs, gliding the curve of my ass. The warmth was intoxicating. Alice practiced with Shay's supervision. I moaned from both their touches.

And then Shay got mean. Instead of softly swiping the line of flame, she began smacking my skin. "What? I have to make sure it's out." I yelped and cackled through the pain.

Flipping me face up, Shay again danced fire across my skin. Bringing out her cups, she tried her darnedest to make my skin look like I was attacked by an octopus: no luck.

She smacked my nipples with her fire wands, and then smacked my nipples with her hands, again "making sure the fire was out". She danced flame down my legs and over my cunt (talk about a mind fuck).

Back on my stomach, she pulled out a spritz bottle and blew balls of flame in the air. The heat came in bursts, warming my body.

Shay again went for my ass. No more hair and no more dead skin as a barrier, her smacks to the extinguished flame were stingy tortures. Soon I could take no more heat on my cheeks. Happy with her torments, Shay decided we'd had enough pyro pleasantries.

She helped me from the massage table, making sure I stood up without tipping over. Running through the positions again, I remembered them well. I love rising to the occasion and all.

Shay brought me back to standing and aftercare ensued.

As we were finishing up, Stefanos ventured over. With another set of eyes to watch me to as I came back down to earth, Shay went about gathering her things and cleaning up our area.

"You look like you were set on fire," said my pinch supervision.
"I was," I said, smiley floaty happy.

Stefanos was in the dungeon awaiting his next playdate. He came closer to me, brought his leg in between my thighs, and asked, "We're suppose to have a playdate, aren't we?" He lifted his leg up and down, massaging his leather chap against my crotch.

"Yes, we are.  We still need to schedule it." I let my hands and chest rest on his body, trying to not lose my wits in the moment.
"What did you have in mind for it?"
"I was thinking we'd try me sucking your cock and then you fisting me."
"You want to try it or you want to do it?"
"I want to suck your cock and then you fist me."
"Fisting, you say. You want to schedule that?"

Stefanos raised his hands to my arms, softly pushed me back to the table I had just occupied with Shay for fireplay (the same table she was in the process of cleaning) and encouraged me to sit on it. I did so, lying back as before.

"Fisting, hmm?"

He reached over to the safer sex supplies on a nearby table, gloved up his hands, and poured four packets of lube onto one.

Standing by my crotch, he looked over my body, locking eyes with me.

"Fisting, yes we can schedule that. How about right now?"

Stefanos rubbed his excess lube onto my crotch, at which point Shay returned.

"Hey baby. What's up?"
"Oh, just your normal spontaneous fisting."
"Really, cause poetic said she's not in the mood for penetration."
"It's good! We're good!" I exclaimed.

I quickly rattled off something about how I wasn't in the mood before but I was certainly in the mood for what was about to happen.

Thinking while horny, I asked Shay to snag a chuck to put under me before we got too far into my "aftercare". Slipping it under my hips, Shay happily joined in on the fun.

By then, Stefanos already had multiple fingers in me. "I'm just doing want the pussy wants," he explained to Shay. Truer words were never spoken.

[For those of you who are counting, this makes the second time I've been randomly fisted as aftercare (the first being when I met Ava Amnesia at Summer Camp 2011). Did I mention my life doesn't suck? Yup, winning.]

Stefanos, having two hands gloved, put his second hand to use when he asked, "Poetic, do you like a thumb up your ass when you're fisted?" Is there any other answer to that quesiton than, "Yes."

As Stefanos stimulated two of my holes, Shay asked if I liked vibrators on my clit when I'm fisted. I mumbled something about liking them but they were not necessary, though I enjoyed clit stimulation. Shay, being ever so kind, fulfilled this desire. Hopping up onto the massage table, she reached over my body and massaged my clit while her husband was almost to the point of being full inside me.

As per my usual, I was quite communicative with both Shay and Stefanos during my "aftecare". Soon the magical moment came when I told Stefanos, who by now had four fingers in, to push. He did, and slipped his full fist into my cunt.

And then I was gone. Lots of gibberish ensued, including some of the hottest dirty talk I have ever experienced. Shay (Did I mention she is super hot with a sexy sexy brain?) started talking dirty to me, asking me if I liked having Stefanos' fist in my cunt. Of course I moaned my pleasure at having his fist in my cunt, how I was a dirty whore, how great it felt when Shay rubbed my clit, how full my pussy felt with his hand inside me.

By now Stefanos had inserted a second finger into my ass as he also worked inside my cunt.

At one point I was so excited I lifted my pelvis up, bridging my body, as I fucked his hand. And somewhere there is a picture of this very moment (I know because I saw it on a projector screen in the Atrium the next night).

I'm fairly certain at some point a crowd of onlookers formed, but with so much stimulation going on my attention was absolutely not on the individuals who wanted to watch the show.

Needless to say, that hour and a half was so many different levels of awesome. I couldn't tell you how many times I came. I can't quite articulate how mind blowing it is to have two amazingly hot people all about you and your pleasure. And the feeling of having my pussy be so full and pleased... I really do love fisting.

Saturday night at Winter Fire was absolutely full of win.

What Do You Want

~ erotica ~


So many people. So many things happening. Equipment like I'd never seen before. Outfits, costumes, shoes, and boots that looked so glamorous yet so terrifying. Naked people flitting about. Fucking any and everywhere in whatever manner you could imagine.

And the things they used. The screams and wails coming from people's lips. I hadn't understood what I was getting myself into when I signed up for this event.

Was this really who I was? Was this really what I wanted?

I sat in my corner, a quiet little church mouse in the dungeon. I sat and watched, invisible to the fray. No one took notice of me. There were so many other spectacles to behold. I was safe there in my corner.

And then he came for me.

I noticed his approach from across the crowded room. His eyes were dark, a mixture of comforting and menacing. I felt like he could see through me, through my clothes into my flesh, through my head into my mind, from a hundred feet away.

With his each step closer towards me, my heart rate increased. I wanted to look away, wanted him to not see me, wanted to be invisible again. But he kept the contact, and kept moving towards me, til he finally stopped, standing legs astride and head tilted down to my upturned eyes.

With his body between myself and the dungeon, I felt shielded, closed off from the tumult that I feared. He reached down a hand, and I took it, standing up, my body now even closer to his.

He smelled of leather and musk. It was intoxicating, and I actually closed my eyes as I took in his scent.

The touch of his hand to my face shot my lids back open.

"Beautiful," he said, before caressing my lips with his own.

Again I closed my eyes, letting myself fall into him, kissing him, parting my lips and allowing our tongues to dance. I raised my hands to caress his face, his cheeks, his chin.

With a jolt, he gripped my biceps and pulled my lips from his.

"What do you want," he ask, fire in his eyes.

I was flabbergasted. I didn't know why I was even here, why I'd made the leap, bought the ticket, and walked into the dungeon that evening. I didn't know why he had found me, why we were kissing. How could I possibly know the answer to his question?

"What do you want?" He yelled now, demanding words leave my lips. Yet still, I didn't know what to say.

"What. Do you. Want?" He brought my face as close as he could to his, our noses almost touching, my eyes almost going cross. And then the words came.

"You. Yours. I want to be yours." I didn't know why I said it, but I knew it to be true.

That was why I was here. I didn't want to scream or cry or be hit. But what I did want, what I truly desired, they would all understand and accept. I wanted to be owned, to be someone's property.

A sexy yet scary smile crept across his face.

"Kneel."

I did as I was told, again finding my spot on the floor. He parted his leather kilt, and I saw his cock was quite hard. Looking up at him, he was looking down on me. And the fire that was in his eyes found a home my cunt now as I burned to service him in whatever way he wished.

My hands parted his leather and my mouth found his cock.

I at first played with the tip and licked up and down the shaft before taking all of him into my mouth. One of his hands found the back of my head and gripped my hair. As my lips rode up and down his cock, his push on the back of my head encouraged my movements.

My right hand found his balls and began to massage, but then his free hand gripped my wrist and brought my arm to behind my back. He then grabbed my left wrist and placed my left arm with my right. My hands gripped my wrists. My mouth was to do all the work.

Soon he merely held my head as he thrust into my mouth, his strokes growing faster. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Until he pulled himself from my mouth and came, spewing his cum into my hair. He mashed his essence into my locks, cleaning his hands with my strands.

For the first time that night, he knelt down and whispered into my ear.

"Now you will smell like my sex for the rest of the night."

He stood, looking down on me again. He gave me this smile, this knowing grin, before walking away back across the dungeon and disappearing into the crowd.

I hoped beyond hope that somehow during this weekend, among the classes and events and play, I would find him again.

And I did, the next night, in the dungeon.

Yours

~ erotica ~



Just so that you know, because I think you forget this: I always, at any given moment, want you to fuck me.

Whether it's in my mouth, all over my face, between my breasts, sliding over my clit, or pounding my pussy just right, I always want your cock inside me.

Any time. Any place.

Softly, gently, or roughly, brusquely.

A quickie. A marathon session. It does not matter.

I always want your cock.

And you always have leave to take my body in whichever way you see fit. Politely or impolitely, I want your cock more than I want conversations, meals, lessons, or other fun.

Be gracious if you wish. A simple caress from you would be enough to take my attention away, to end whatever interaction I had been engaged in and be only of you.

But if you are not inclined to even that simple courtesy, grab whatever part of my body you wish, be it hair or wrist or arm or neck, and pull me wherever you like to do whatever you like.

If it be your pleasure, take of my body right there, be it in whatever company. My flesh is for your feasting, and I want nothing more than to have you in me, on me, always. Whatever way you should ever wish, for every moment of every day of my too short life.

For there are not enough moments in a thousand lifetimes for my insatiable need to be yours, to feel you in me, on me, to be of you, for your pleasure.

My hunger for you, my hunger to be yours, can never be fulfilled.

May I

~ erotica ~



"May I?"

He gave a small head nod in consent. I practically jumped up from my seat and scurried towards him, descending down to the floor, resting on my knees by his feet.

His boots were tall stiff leather that, over time, had come to meld closer to the shape of his calf. The very top of each boot ended just below his knee.

He had ladder-laced each boot to the top, cinched each tight, wrapped the lace around his calf, tied with a simple bow in the front, and tucked the excess lace in between the tongue and side of his boot.

I found the ends of one, bringing them back out to the front. Slowly, I pulled the bow lose, leaving just a simple overhand knot. Hooking my forefinger, I made just enough space for my digit to fit between his leather and the lace before languidly tugging the crossed fiber forward until the two pieces separated.

The half of the boot lace that weaved under his work I rested to the side of his boot. I gripped the other's end and again used my forefinger to hook into the lace, slowly, intentionally pulling it through the eyelet, leaving just a fraction of its length at the end, creating a floppy U shape that dangled above the tongue.

This time, gripping the side of the U closest to the eyelet, I hooked my finger once more and pulled, sliding the lace through, leaving about four inches between the previous set of eyelets, and creating yet another floppy U. I repeated this process over and over and over again, working down his leg, til I came to the last set of eyelets.

Now, at the toe of his boot, I spread the sides of his leather apart, loosening the grip on his foot, creating the space he would soon need. Scooting myself forward, I wrapped my thighs around his leather and sat on his boot, my clit resting on his toe. With my head still tilted down, I cupped my hands in the back, gripping onto the heel.

"No."

My head tilted up and saw his face. His eyes looked stern, but not upset. He directed my gaze to his other boot. It seemed his preferred process was different from how I'd been taught, but I was happy to appease his wishes however he wanted.

Unsettling my body from his boot, still on my knees, I scooted over to his other foot. Again, I found his tucked bow. Again, I took care in undoing the simple knot, as well as the initial loosening of the crossed lace. Again, I pulled through each eyelet in long measured strokes, taking care to run the lace against the leather in hopes that he felt the friction even through the barrier. Again, I came to his last set of eyelets, spread the sides of his boot, and loosened the leather to give room for his foot.

And, just as before, head down, my thighs hugged his boot, my hands cupped his heel, and my clit rested on his toe. I waited patiently for him to slip his foot from his boot.

But then I felt the gentle rock up and onto my clit. Felt his muscles flex beneath me. Felt as he slowly maneuvered his toe up and down, up and down.

My grip on his heel grew tighter. My thighs squeezed together. I tried to keep my breathing low and calm. I licked my lips, sighed, and then bit my lower lip.

Was this a test? Was this a tease? Either way, I knew what I wanted, what he drove me closer to with each flex of his foot.

"Please?" It was a whisper.
"No." It was a command.

I bit my lip harder. I rested my forehead against his shin.

"Please?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."

He gripped my hair, tilted my head back, and looked into my eyes. There was a muted satisfaction in his gaze as he took in my wanting agony.

"Please, Sir?"

A wide grin broke across his face.

"Yes."

He lifted his leg up hard multiple times as my body shaked before freeing his foot from his leather. He released my hair and I bent my head down, resting it against his boot. I picked up the loose laces and draped them inside of his boot before setting it to the side.

Again, I scooted over to his foot and placed my body as I knew he wished it, and as I so wanted it. This time he merely lifted his foot out; no reprisal of my ecstasy tonight. I draped the laces inside as before and set the second boot next to the first.

Still on my knees, I leaned over, resting my hands on the floor beside his leather. I licked the toe of each boot clean, and then kissed his boots.

Good Boy

~ erotica ~



Everyone was on the floor. He sat cross-legged in front of me. My crotch nuzzled up to his tight little ass, my legs laying lazily on the carpeted ground. My chin rested on his shoulder. We watched the small intimate show, cheering on our friend who was dancing. But I wanted a little more entertainment for my evening.

I reached my arms around him, spread apart his thighs, and wrapped my legs around his middle, resting the heels of my boots on the floor. My chest now laid against his back, my arms around him. I let my hands dangle as my forearms rested on the inside of my knees.

I brushed my nose against his ear before whispering my intent for the evening.

"I'm going to eat your asshole tonight."

I heard the stalled breath and immediately felt his body tense. He slowly reached a hand up and gently dragged my hand down to his crotch where his cock was already growing hard. I massaged his cock through his shorts while we waited for the show to finish.

When the show ended and the party began, I quickly sat my things down under a suspension frame. He'd sat against the wall waiting. I turned to him, extended my finger, and beckoned him over. He crawled like any good boy would.

With a move reminiscent of how I'd soon play with his ass, I gestured for him to stand. I leaned in close, my lips again by his ear.

"Do you like sexual humiliation?"
"I... I don't know."
"Hmm, I think we'll find out tonight."

I grabbed one of his wrist and then the other, tying a basic cuff around both before throwing the excess of my rope above the top and pulling down, lifting his limbs into the air. He could still stand flat on his feet, but he couldn't get away.

I grabbed him by his hips and turned him towards the party crowd. Most people milled about, looking for places to play, equipment to use, or a place to sit, but a few watched us, wondering if we'd make a good show.

I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his shorts, and pulled off the fabric. Like a good boy, he wore no underwear. His cock was mostly hard. Even with his shirt still on, I could tell he felt exposed. He looked down towards the carpet.

"Look up. Keep your eyes open. I want you to see them as they watch you, as they watch me fuck you."

Reluctantly, he did as he was told.

I dropped to one knee and eased his legs apart, gripping his cheeks to expose his asshole. I reached over and dragged both my bag and a small table to within easy access. I put on two gloves, and grabbed a condom, my bottle of lube, and a special surprise toy, setting them next to me on the table.

With each cheek firmly in my grasp, I spread my tongue wide and gave my first long languid lick. He tilted his head back, eyes closed, and gasped. I quickly gripped his balls and called up to him, "What did I say?"

"Keep my eyes open."
"That's right. You can gasp, moan, plea, and scream, but your eyes will remain open."

My mouth delved back into the cleft of his ass, licking furiously now, tracing his rim with the tip of my tongue, using the stud in my mouth to tickle his flesh, and delicately probing inside of him. He pushed his hips back, an eager little slut, wanting more and more of my tongue in his ass.

But I wanted something more now.

Standing up, I riped open the condom wrapper, pulled out my cock, and slid the latex down my shaft. Taking up the lube bottle, I generously slicked up my cock for my boy, as well as one of my hands. I set the lube bottle back on the little table next to me again, just in case I'd need it later.

My dry hand found my boy's cock, rock hard now, and stroked him as my slick hand's fingertips played with my boy's asshole.

"Having fun?"
"Yes."
"Good, because now I'm going to fuck this little ass of yours. Would you like that?"
"Yes."

Again he pushed back as my fingers now explored inside of him. Good and warmed up, I pressed the head of my cock to his hole, easing it into him, and slowly sliding all of me inside him.

"Fuck!" he screamed.
"Yes, my boy. That is exactly what I'm doing to you."

My hands rested on the front of his pelvis, pushing him further onto my cock, framing his cock for those watching. Indeed, we had drawn a crowd. My boy looked on them, no more embarrassment in his eyes.

"You like it when they watch me fuck you. You like it when they see me take control of you, my cock inside of you, ramming in and out, don't you?"
"Yes."

I shifted my hips, slowly easing my cock out and then gliding it back in, slowly fucking deep into his ass. When I did this again, he whimpered in the way that got me hotter.

"Are you about to cum?"
"Yes."
"Don't."
"Please."
"No."
"Please."
"Maybe."
"Please."
"Hmm..."
"Please!"

He repeated the word over and over. I held my cock inside of him, not moving it, but instead reaching over and grabbing my surprise. I rested the small vibrator on the millimeter of my cock not fully in his ass, and turned it on.

"Fuck!"
"You like that?"
"Yes!"
"My cock buzzing inside of you."
"Yes!"
"Do you still want to cum?"
"Yes! Please! Oh God please!"

With one hand, I gripped his balls, massaging them firmly. The other cupped the head of his cock.

"Cum."

His body twitched and jerked, his head having no choice but to follow the spasms. He spewed into my hand, white, sticky, and warm. I brought that hand to his mouth where he greatly lapped up every last drop of his cum from my fingers. I wiped the excess moisture on his face, down his chest, and back onto his cock, stroking his now sensitive organ, my rock hard cock still inside of him.

"Now, what do you say?"
"Thank you. Thank you."
"That's my good boy."

An Excerpt

~ erotica ~

[Note: The following is an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo project.  Enjoy...]


I knelt on the ground, my head bent down, naked, waiting. He told me to wait. Told me he would be back. But when he'd be back I did not know. The chain around my neck, and it's lock by the top of my sternum, weighed heavily on my chest.

When would he return? Would he return? Was this a test? All I wanted was my Daddy. All I wanted was his cock. On me. In me. My mouth. My ass. Wherever he wanted. I wanted my Daddy.

I heard footfalls, the familiar click clack of his boots on the wooden floor. Daddy was coming. Daddy was back. Daddy was home.

He opened the door and closed it behind him. I didn't look. I knew he didn't want me to look, knew he liked it when I just waited, same as he had left me, same as he wanted me, on my knees, hands on my thighs, head bent in supplication to him.

I heard the click clack as he walked to his chair right in front of me. Out of my periphery I saw those familiar boots, and those familiar chaps. I smelled his cologne. Even from those few feet away, I felt his heat. My Daddy was ready for me, wanted me, needed me. And his boy needed him too.

"Stand."

I curved my toes under and glided up, my head still bent.

"Look at me."

And, finally, I saw his face. His salt and pepper beard. His sky blue eyes. His jet black hair.

"I missed my boy."
"I missed you too, Daddy."
"At my knee."

I rushed towards him, gripped his leg tight, and rested my head at his knee. He caressed my head, his leather gloved hands in my hair. My head instinctively leaned into his touch, leaned into each stroke of his hand.

And then came the grip. He held onto my hair and pulled my face towards his. With his free hand, he unzipped his jeans which he wore under his chaps. Out came his massive and hard cock, the cock I had so missed, that cock that would soon be inside me.

Daddy pushed my mouth onto his cock, all the way in, down my throat. I gagged at first, but made myself relax. My Daddy was in me again. I couldn't be happier.

He pulled on my hair, moving my head back and forth on his cock. Stroke, stroke, hold. Stroke, stroke, hold. Daddy had taught me how he liked his cock sucked, taught me how he would use my body for his pleasure.

Once he pulled them out, my hands eased up to my Daddy's balls. With each pause at the back of my throat I was to squeeze as hard as I could. This meant my Daddy would soon cum. My Daddy loved it when I squeezed his balls.

Stroke, Stroke, hold/squeeze. Stroke, stroke, hold/squeeze. He grew faster with the rhythm, faster and deeper in my throat. I gripped harder and harder, so much that my hands hurt, but I didn't care. It was what my Daddy wanted, what my Daddy needed, and I would do anything for his pleasure.

And then it came, my Daddy's grunts as he spewed into my mouth; warm cum filled me. I love the taste of my Daddy's cum, love it when he cums in me, in my mouth, in my ass, just in me.

Pulling me up by my hair, my Daddy encircled his arms around me as he kissed me, licking his cum from my tongue, filling my mouth now with his own tongue. Oh how I missed him, his dick, his tongue, his cum, my Daddy all in me.

But he wasn't done yet.

As my Daddy lapped at his cum in my mouth, one of his hands now gripped one of my ass cheeks and a finger played with my asshole. My Daddy was especially horny and wanted yet more of me. I leaned my ass back into his touch, wanting more than just his finger playing with it.

And then I was turned around, bent over, my hands on the floor. Daddy gripped my hips and pulled my ass into his mouth, licking and lapping at my hole. He spit into my crack. He licked and sucked all he wanted.

His first ungloved finger slid in and I gasped from the surprise and the sensation. A moment later, after working me good, his second slid in. Daddy was opening me up good and wide. Sure enough, his third finger soon followed.

I breathed. I screamed. I cried my pleasure as my Daddy stuck in a forth finger deep inside me. Daddy was going to do it. Daddy was going to give me my greatest pleasure, my favorite pleasure.

A moment later, my Daddy's full fist slid inside my ass. "Yes!" I moaned as Daddy began pumping his hand in my ass, ramming me hard. He punched my prostate, bracing his arm in front of my thigh both so that I wouldn't fall but also to give him extra leverage, extra pushing as he pummeled my insides how I loved.

With his hand so close to my crotch, he soon began stroking my cock as well. It was so much, oh so much pleasure as my Daddy fucked me right. And then, oh my god, and then Daddy bent down and started sucking my balls too. I could barely stand, could barely think of anything but all the sensations, all the pleasures running through my body.

"Daddy, please! Oh god, Daddy please!"
"No!"

Daddy pounded my ass harder, squeezed my cock firmer, and lapped at my balls even more.

"Please please please, Daddy! Oh god, please let me cum. Please Daddy, I want cum for you. I want to cum for you. Please!"
"No!"

Daddy sucked both my balls into his mouth, held his knuckles against my prostate, rotating around, and gripped the base of the shaft of my cock.

"Fuck! Daddy, please! Please!"
"Cum!"

The world went tumbling as Daddy flipped me onto my back, my cum racing from my body into his mouth, onto his face, lapped up and on him. He used his hand to milk my cock, pulling every last bit of cum out of me for him to enjoy.

Daddy slowly eased his fist out, then brought his face to mine. His kissed me softly as I tasted myself on him. He let me lick his face, lick my cum off of him, before kissing it from my lips again.

His hand caressed my cheek, then cradled my neck, lifting me up off the ground. He softly placed my head back by his knee where I rested, waited, happy to have my Daddy back home.