Trick and Treat

We’d had this conversation weeks ago after watching a horror film. I had no idea he would actually set it up.

Haunted house, I said, but all sexy scares with just the two of us.

I huffed in the cold to myself after my taxi dropped me off in the middle of nowhere. It was moonless and dark. Shivering, my breath misted as I looked about. Trees rustled around the long gravel drive. Shining my phone torch around me, I couldn’t see much.

My instructions were specific. The list included clothes that can be ruined and ‘slutty AF’ so I went with a too short and too low cut clingy black dress. Tights, old lace underwear, and way too much vampy makeup.

Roleplay was one of the things we did, and Halloween — the Goth equivalent of Christmas — was made for my boyfriend. I crunched up the drive, not a little spooked out.

I’m not a goth. I’m a neon rainbow. I rarely wore black, but for him, I’d move out of my norms and comfort zone. In fairness, it was mutual. Switches can be a dangerous combo, and we were electric.

My dress rode up to my crotch, and I kept pulling it down as I wobbled up the gravel.

I had no idea whose house it was, just that he said it was ours for the weekend if I made it through the ordeal.

I shivered in excitement. I knew the rough parameters, but the agreement was I wouldn’t know most details. He knew my limits and wonts. I trusted him through experience that I was safe, and yet I felt the danger. Gloried in it.

Fuck’s sake, I was already soaking wet at the idea of what was to come.

The house was a great old Victorian brick manor with long windows and a tall pointed roof. Chimneys spiralled into the night, and in the shadowed darkness, I noticed how intricate the porch and front door were. Sweat prickled as I made it up the steps, my spine creeping and palms clammy. I lifted the dull brass knocker and tapped it three times.

A minute passed. I deep breathed, slowing my heart, centring my thoughts. The door opened and swung out into the dark. There was nobody there.

“Ash?” I stepped into the house, not much warmer than outside, and held my breath.

The moment dragged out. I swallowed, but my mouth was dry. The stairs were central to the large hall, corridors down each side, a door off on either side and beyond that, I could make nothing out.

“Ash? Are you here?”

At a sudden noise behind me, I whipped around, and the door slammed closed, leaving me in near pitch darkness. I cried out, hands shaking, and unlocked my phone. In the scant blue light, there was a flash of movement, and I screamed.

Ash rushed me, I stumbled back and hit a wall. He took the phone. All I saw was his pale golden face illuminated, dark hair slicked back, and the hint of eyeliner at his glittering black eyes.

“Stay.” His sharp, deep voice pinned me in place.

There was a table nearby, and he lit a candle lamp. I didn’t move. When he came back, he loomed over in flickering shadows. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves cuffed on his forearms, a waistcoat, finely tailored, and even had a tie on.

“Look at you, a delicious meal delivered to my door.” He laughed and ran the back of his hand down my cheek. “Such tender flesh, warm and sweet.” He continued down my neck and caressed my breast.

He paused and caged me in. He breathed in my scent, and I arched into his touch.

“One question, sweetness, trick or treat.”

“What?”

“Choose. Choose your fate tonight.” He almost smiled. “Or I’ll choose. Trick or treat.”

“Trick.”

“Feeling brave?”

I lifted my chin in defiance.

“I see my precious little brat has come to play.” He spoke close and quiet, intent on my mouth. “I’ll give you a head start. Run.”

I wasted no time, ducked out from under his arms and ran off down the hall with his laughter following me. I couldn’t see a thing, and ran into a table, catching my hip. Taking a breath, and rubbing it, I slipped my loud ankle boots off and tip-toed through what seemed like a dining room, crouching low, scanning my exits. One door was locked. The next clicked open, and as it swung out, a recorded scream played and lights flashed. I cried out and ran in the opposite direction. There was one door left, and it opened to a lounge. Dust sheets covered the furniture.

I panted, trying to calm down. I turned to the side, and a dust sheet moved.

I jumped and scream-laughed, but the shape lumbered closer, and as I backed away, its arms snaked around me, one hand around my waist, the other covering my face as I twisted. I flailed and pulled at the sheet, tangling us up in it and ended up pushed over the settee, I squirmed and fumbled, turning around as I slid down onto the floor, taking Ash’s covering with me.

He wore a mask, a plain one with only eye holes, but I didn’t like it. I crawled away, never taking my eyes off him. He followed with slow grace, over the settee, down onto the carpet, and when I bumped into a coffee table, cried out.

My breathing was too loud, and I put my hands out as he got to me. Ash didn’t speak, just grabbed my legs and pulled me down to him. I screamed. I loved screaming, it’s such a cathartic thing, and to really shriek I have to be scared.

And oh boy, I screamed.

He wore snug leather gloves and slid his hands up my thighs as I tried to get away. But he sat on my calves, crossing his feet under them so I couldn’t escape.

“Please don’t, please,” I started crying, knowing we were only just getting started, but it was too delicious.

I struggled, shrill and sobbing. He waited, and when I was a growling wreck, he reached under my dress.

When his hand caressed between my legs, I shuddered. He laughed. He knelt back, and I tried to get a leg free.

“You’ll wear out too quick, love. Just do what I ask, it’ll be easier.”

“No.”

He shrugged, and in a quick movement, shoved my dress up to my waist. While I fought, he held one wrist out the way, and with his other hand, pulled out a tiny pocketknife.

I nearly came. Knives were one of my favourite kinks, and I knew it was on the agenda.

He flicked it open, and I went completely still. He stretched out the thigh of my tights and cut, ripping them at the crotch.

He slipped his hand down my pussy. “Give in. Obey me. Let me fuck you, I’ll make it so good, and this will stop.”

“No.” I bared my teeth, and shouting, tried to wrench out.

We’d played this scene enough, and he lifted up fractionally so I could get away. I ran to the door I came in through finding it locked, and the only other door was open. Ash was getting to his feet, and I ran. It was a stone floor, and I skidded, rounding back to the front hall, and seeing the staircase, I took two steps at a time. He called my name in a sing-song voice.

It was too dark to see anything, and at the top, I tripped on a slippy surface, falling on my front. It felt like plastic or rubber. I caught my breath trying to stand, but realising it was wet, with lube by the feel, I kept slipping back over. “Fuck.”

I started to crawl but hands grabbed my ankles, sliding me back to the stairs, and I screamed again.

The staircase looked down to the front door with carved bannisters either side. I was too slippy to fight him, but I tried.

He took one wrist, and it was instantly trapped in a cold Velcro cuff, already waiting, my other to the other side. My ankles were next. I knelt on the top stair with my body not quite touching the ground.

“I did warn you.”

I panted, sticky and a mess, and absolutely desperate for his dick.

He tore open my cut tights from behind and pulled and ripped off my scant lace knickers. Leaning forward, he put them in my mouth. The coarse lace soaked up all my saliva, almost making me gag, and I could taste my arousal.

Spread and trapped, I calmed. Quietened. I heard Ash move, rustling, and his bare hands caressed my thighs, bottom, and all around me until he reached my tits, releasing them from my dress and bra. I heard his zip undo. There was nothing I could do but take it; entirely at his mercy. Relishing it, I was so wet, he glided in. I cried out muffled pleading, and he only laughed.

“Poor little brat. Look at you now. You were so cocky, but you’re trapped.” Ash steadied me with a hand to my shoulder. “I’m going to fuck you.”

The stairs creaked as he thrust in hard and slow. I was pushed forward, stretching uncomfortably, tits brushing the cold, wet floor.

I grunted and cried. It was just perfect.

I couldn’t hold back, my body overstimulated with fear, and I came, sharp and intense. I’d have convulsed, but I couldn’t move. I screamed and shook, my body taut as the pitch of nerves pulled hot and tingling in sweet ecstasy.

“Oh fuck.” Ash cried, speeding up. I nearly laughed but bit it back as his roughness stole my breath.

I loved it when he was too turned on by my orgasms to hold back. I felt the warm spread in me of his release, and he went lax. He took the knickers out of my mouth, and I hauled a breath.

I was desolate as he withdrew.

Ash leant over me, breathlessly kissing my shoulder and neck. “Now, isn’t that better? You know this is for the best, to be good and obedient.”

I buzzed and reverberated with him and the night so far. I longed for his sweetness, but nor did I want it to be over. “Let me go.”

“You don’t sound like that’s what you really want, but this no longer serves my purpose.” He pulled the velcro and freed me before hauling me into his hold as he sat on the stairs. He pinned me against him. “Now, tell me you don’t want my love.”

I leant forward so slightly but didn’t speak.

“Check-in.”

“It’s perfect.” I could barely get the words out.

“We can end it now, but there’s more, and it’ll be far worse than this little warm-up.”

It was his smirk that set me off. I snapped my teeth at him. As wobbly as I felt, I was wired.

“There’s no way to get off the property. You’re trapped.”

“Am I?”

At my sneer, he set me onto my feet and slapped my bare arse. I took off down the stairs, putting my dress right. I tried the front door, and each door around the hall, then the rest of the house, and the only one that I could go through was the room that had been rigged up. The scream made me jump as I went in, catching me in fake cobwebs. There was a set of patio doors in what looked to be an office. A skeleton was the thing laughing at me, and with my heart hammering, I tried the door. The sharp air woke me up, sweat and lube licked by the breeze, but it was dry, the cloud had cleared and the moon shone. Woods surrounded the house beyond the lawn, and I took off in a straight line to them.

His cum covered my thighs as I ran, lungs burning, and as I headed to the treeline, I came back to rational thought and had no plan on what to do next.

Ash’s voice boomed, and he grabbed me, lifting me off the floor. My legs still pumped as I screamed, but he held me so tight, I couldn’t breathe. He was pretty strong though he wasn’t a massive guy and hoisted me along, crunching leaves with his heavy footfall out to the trees while I whined and sobbed.

At an old oak with low branches and a thick hewn tree lying next to it, he threw me into the bracken. Before I could get away, he straddled me, pinning me down.

He was so beautiful in the moonlight. A curl of his hair had fallen forward, and his eyes were wild. Slowly taking off his tie, his lips parted. “You’re so pretty all sprawled with your makeup smeared with tears and at my mercy.”

I huffed.

He smoothed my hair back. “Wrist.”

I stared him out in petulance.

“I’m disappointed.” He grabbed one arm and tied it tightly, and then the other before looping them together and tying it off. When he got off me, I tested it, but he hauled me up, and lifted my arms, hooking my binds over a short thick branch of the tree facing the woods.

I shuddered. The pitch darkness was only broken by pale trees, their leaves falling, and there was nothing else. I squirmed, actually afraid of the unseen terror that might be.

“I told you this would be worse.”

I took a deep, cleansing breath. The cold press of the knife scored my back, just a hint of the blunt edge. I swallowed. Ash cut through my dress, tearing it off me. I struggled and squealed in hysteria, begging for who knew what. The remnant of my tights and the bra followed, and I was naked.

My teeth chattered. Ash enveloped me, kissing and caressing all over.

“You’re covered in me. Mine.”

I watched the eerie view and relished his warmth, shuffling my feet in the dry leaves beneath me.

Ash moved about and picked something up. A branch, but it was actually a thin birch strap, and I braced. He shifted and squeezed my bottom, kissed my neck, and grazed his teeth along the sensitive skin. I kept breathing in but not out. My arms strained and hands were numb.

He bit the spot between neck and shoulder, and I swallowed my cry, going still, the sharp pain warming me. With a growl, he let me go and struck. The bitter release of the sharp strike cut into my nerves and fight.

Each thwack up my thighs and bottom made me wetter, bit deeper, and I squirmed and grunted, trying to get away and avoid it; the instinct of body over my need to endure it was my own battle.

A war he could only watch as he hurt me.

Fear floated away. We were the darkness of a cold autumn night. He was the nightmares of my childhood, embraced and bound in love.

The rigidity in my spirit gave, and I could only endure the pain. Transformed and truly alive.

What Ash saw, I didn’t know. But panting, he dropped the switch and rounded me. He kissed my tears and held me in aching tenderness, pressing little pecks to my face.

Freeing himself, he lifted my thighs and angled his cock into me. I locked my ankles around him, pressing my head on his shoulder, and he grunted. I still watched the darkness, no longer afraid. I’d never been safer.

A few minutes, or an hour more of fucking, I couldn’t tell, he lifted my wrists off the branch and lay us on the ground.

He undid his shirt, kneeling back so he towered over me, and with his trousers at his thighs, he held my gaze, leaning down over me, and cradled my head.

Under us was a blanket, and really it was just dusted with leaves. Wordless, Ash moved in me, no taunts, or rough need, just love.

Slower and deeper, and as I was high as the moon above us, the edging release built, warmed by his body, buzzing and tingling with throbbing pain, I was spent and peaceful.

Each building second of orgasm rose in my breath and pulse until a slow tingling trip burst through my body from within. Ash moved faster, his need loud and free. I bucked and spasmed, hot and wet around him, body contorting as he took me. His face was pinched with ferocious lust, building to frenzy while my orgasm seemed to keep going.

Easing flush against me, he kept moving in little circles, moaning the last pleasure until we were quiet.

He gave himself a minute, panting hard before he pulled out and gathered me into his hold. “Are you done? Are you mine?” he whispered, smoothing leaves from my hair.

“I am yours.”

“Good. Time for your treat.” He nuzzled me with sweet kisses.

I was so tired. In seconds I was in Ash’s arms, and he carried me back inside, nudging the lights on as he went.

“Now. I’m going to clean you up and then feed you. Okay, love?”

“Thank you.”

“Good girl.” He kissed my forehead as we went upstairs. The lubed PVC sheet was rolled up out the way.

He must have planned every little thing. I grinned and snuggled into him. The bathroom was new but fit the house, and he set me in the shower, before stripping and joining me.

The hot stream of water was bliss. He cleansed me of the night, washing away the lube, leaves and tears.

“You’re quiet.” He got the last of my makeup from under my eyes.

“I’m…” my eyes closed, and I could barely summon the strength to open them again. “Fucking happy. How?”

“It’s a friend’s house from the dungeon we go to, but they’re away. We have it for the weekend. He let me come over and helped me plan. There are a few other scenarios. I thought maybe tomorrow, you could be a good girl and serve me, and then if you like, play again.”

I reached up to his full pretty mouth, waiting for permission, and with a small smile, he kissed me.

“Yes, please. This was everything I needed, thank you.”

He turned off the water and wrapped us up in fluffy robes.

In the bedroom, comfortable and lit with low lamps, a spread was set out for us, and he poured me a glass of wine before ushering me to eat.

“Have I really earnt you being a good girl?”

“More than that. I’ll be good all weekend.”

 “Well, let’s not go too far, where’s the fun in that? Besides, you haven’t chased me about yet.”

I laughed, snuggling close. “I can’t wait to make you scream.”

Interrogation

I watched my target from the car. The night was mild and dry, and the street was lit with yellow light broken from occasional windows blinking on and passing traffic. The city sounds were muffled, but I focused on my quarry. He exited a building wearing a good suit but no tie and had a briefcase in hand. I gripped the wheel a little tighter, taking a deep breath.

I got out and followed. In the back was a bag with the equipment I needed for this job and moved quietly after slinging it over my shoulder. I slipped my hands into my bomber jacket; they were already sweating.

This was my first time playing this game, and though we’d gone over the rules, planned it with covert check ins and safe words, and we were all set, I was nervous.

He turned off, walking faster. I kept my distance, not following too closely. We fell into a rhythm, and it gave me time to focus and work off my nerves. The street was quieter, darker, and he fished in his pocket for his keys, slowing to pick the one he needed. I closed in, my heart beat hard, but I found calm at the moment I needed to act.

As he slipped a key into the lock of a pretty house on the leafy street, I rushed him, pushing him through the doorway, letting it close, and threw myself on top of him, forcing him to the ground. He tried to draw in a shocked breath as I pinned myself over his back using my weight and thighs and slipped out the handcuffs from my pocket, and in a well-rehearsed move, secured his hands.

“Get the fuck off me.” He bucked up, grunting as he thrashed.

I leant over him, elbows in the back of his shoulders. “That’s not how this is going to go. You’re going to do exactly what I say.” I put my hand to his throat and squeezed.

He went still. “What do you want?” He was rigid and furious but kept still.

“There’s some information I want from you.”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

“That means there’s something to know.” While I spoke, I rooted through the holdall over my shoulder and dug out a knife. It looked impressive, and though dangerous, it wasn’t sharp. I leant over him, running it along his cheek. “I’m going to get up, and if you want to keep all the blood in your body where it is, you’ll do as I say.”

He swallowed and nodded once.

Dropping the bag and knife as I leant back, I slowly slipped off him. He didn’t move, sprawled on the hall floor hands cuffed behind him. I nearly broke character but bit the inside of my cheek.

I took his feet and dragged him along the smooth oak floor. He flipped over and kicked out, sending me onto my back. He tried to get to his feet, but I tackled him at the knees, making him fall, and grabbed his crotch.

“Do you really want to fight me?”

He thumped his head back with a grunt before looking at me with a glittering sneer.

I could just about reach the bag and slipped out the knife again. He eyed it as I held it against his thigh.

“Where is the artery?”

“I’m not giving you anything.” His wild dark eyes were alive and intent on me.

“Yeah, yeah. You said that.” I smirked. “Up.” With the knife at his neck, he scrambled to his feet, and I walked him to a dining chair in the open plan living area.

I shoved him into it, and he looked me up and down. I knew what he saw, but I didn’t feel like myself. I had my baby-fine blond hair in a high ponytail, where it normally was down. I usually wore dresses that complimented my large breasts and rounded figure. But I wore all black, skinny jeans and knee-high boots. Long-sleeved black tee.

I’m innocuous, non-threatening. Soft. But the side of me that I rarely embraced? He wanted it. He wasn’t handsome in a traditional sense. Tall, broad, no six-pack or gym made muscles. But manly. Hairy chest, acne scars dotted his cheeks, but his jaw was strong. His strength lay in gentle determination, and his integrity was charismatic, alluring. His beauty overwhelmed me sometimes. It was the little things I loved; his thick lashes, generous smile, the veins on his arms and large, careful hands.

His eyes glowered with fury. He’d only ever looked at me with devotion, but this was more than thrilling.

His chest heaved up and down, his black curls on golden skin fell forward as he leant to shift his weight.

From the bag, I took the zip ties and raised a brow. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Securing each ankle to a chair leg, I glanced up at him. “Don’t look so angry. Just give me what I want, and this will all be over.”

“No.”

I grinned in what I hoped was a threatening way. “Oh, you will.”

I straddled his lap, securing his upper arms to the slatted back of the chair. My chest brushed his, my breasts pressing against him. His eyes fluttered closed, and he hardened. A bead of sweat fell down his temple. He radiated so much heat, it seeped into my skin. Putting my hand on his heart, I felt it pound.

“What are you going to do to me?” he whispered.

“I’m going to hurt you until you scream and beg. I’m going to make you feel things you never imagined. You won’t remember your name by the time I’m finished with you.” I pinched his chin.

He squirmed and whimpered.

I slid two fingers in his mouth, making his eyes widen. “I think you’ll enjoy it. I know I will.” I let him go and made sure my tits brushed his face as I stood.

His dick was like rock, pushing at the fabric of his trousers. With him secured, I undid the buttons of his shirt methodically.

“Please don’t.”

“I love it when you plead.”

He let his head fall back with a moan. I watched him carefully for a minute before carrying on. He licked his lips as I pushed the shirt and jacket off his shoulders, letting them hang there. I took the phone from his jacket and turned it off. Then I went through his wallet.

There I was. A photo from a party booth at my birthday bash last year. I wore a gold sequined bustier, and I was covered in glitter, caught in mid laughter. He’d just whipped his dick out for a second off camera. It was his favourite pic of me. Said it was pure joy.

“Who’s she?” I showed him the photo.

His fear and anger focused. “I’ll never tell you.”

I tossed it on the table. Running my fingers down his chest, enjoying the feel of him at my mercy, I pressed my lips to his shoulder.

He froze.

“Who is she?”

“I’m not telling.” He shuddered as I ran my tongue over his collarbone and back to the muscle of his shoulder.

I bit down.

He shouted. “Stop, please.” His cry was delightful and desperate.

I let go and blew on the wet, red marks of my teeth.

“Who?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I went for his other shoulder. He lurched his hips forward, dick pressing into me. He hissed and growled his breath.

Again. And again, until the tops of his arms were marked; the fleshy muscle perfect to bite on. I slid down onto my knees, biting all over him until tears swam in his eyes, and there was a definite damp spot on his trousers. His heat made me sweat.

“See, I told you you’d like it.”

He shook his head.

“Tell me what I want to know.”

“Never.” He virtually spat it at me.

I undid his belt, and he bit his lip.

I wrestled them off roughly, along with his underwear, to the floor. Exposed and hard, moisture covered the tip of his dick.

He was so tense.

Propping my chin on a hand, I made sure my elbow dug into his thigh. “Aww bless. You do like it.”

“I don’t. I don’t want you to do this.”

“Now we both know that’s a lie. To put a stop to this tell me who she is.”

All he had to do to get out was say the word, and as we stared at each other, I thought he might. Instead, he raised his chin and stayed quiet.

“That’s what I thought.” I ran my finger up the length of his dick.

His eyes flickered. I grabbed the knife and dragged it up the inside of his calf and the top of his thigh, weaved it around the bite marks that’d bruise on his chest, and to his neck.

He opened his mouth wide and drew his knees in.

“Oh are you close? This is agony, isn’t it? All you want is her. That sweet woman who’s kind and precious. But she’s not here, is she?”

Tossing the knife, I grabbed his dick, squeezing. He shouted. When I let go, he slumped, straining at the zip ties.

“Tell me.”

“Fuck you.”

“You will.”

I put the bag on the table and picked out some latex gloves, slipped them on and pushed up my sleeves.

“What are you going to do?”

I set out a bottle of lube and a butt plug. He went very still. I undid a few buttons on my top, partly because I was hot and partly so he could see down my cleavage.

Urging his hips forward, I made him perch off the edge of the seat with his thighs spread. With a dollop of cool lube to the silicone tip, I nudged it in.

“No.” His eyes fluttered.

“Stay still. You know how this works.”

With a deep and guttural moan, he watched me work the length in, and then it slid to the wide lip.

“There. Ready to have a little fun?”

His lids were heavy when he pulled his lips into his mouth and then swallowed. “Please.”

“Please? What do you want? Say it. Be honest with me.”

“I… need to come.”

“There. The first honest thing so far.” I kissed and sucked his thigh and wiped off any excess lube.

He licked his lips as I ran my finger over his cock. Working the moisture all over. He was so hard. It twitched, and he took a sharp breath.

I did it again, watching for his reaction. That one perfect spot always was the most sensitive. He hissed when I circled a figure-eight over it.

His gaze fell to my chest. Tits pressed against the inside of his thigh.

“Are you looking at my tits?”

He turned his head away.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

“You’re a liar.” I stood. We stared in silence at each other. I was torn between ending this and pushing harder. Both were love. Instead, I pulled off my top. He moaned. My bra was necessary support but not sexy. He did like what it did to my cleavage, though.

I straddled his lap, and he pressed against me. “Tell me,” I whispered into his ear, grinding against him.

“No.” He sounded less angry, less sure. I kissed his neck, the rough stubble and sweat there was like catnip. My mouth watered, and I was getting as turned on as he was. For a minute, I let myself have that pleasure but slapped him and got off.

He tensed and un-tensed, precum seeping out. I needed to pull him back a little.

A short reed cane was his favourite. It left so many pretty marks. He struggled, brought out from his lust.

“Stay still. We don’t want to get your cock or balls accidentally.”

He complied.

“You can end this. Tell me.”

He raised his chin in defiance.

“So strong and brave, aren’t you?” I smiled and used my best cooing tone.

He stared straight ahead.

Putting one hand on his knee, I closed his thighs a touch and lined up. I struck the top of his leg. He jumped. Then the other. I knew the pain. The sharp sting. The cool tingle and hard heat that followed it. The singing in his mind as pain rushed and chemicals were released. I licked my lips.

Each precise, careful strike left a perfect red line. He flinched. Sweated more. Breathed harder. He grunted with each one.

With a cry, he looked down, and his hard, heavy dick twitched against his hip. His face twisted, and he went rigid. I stopped.

He laughed, high as a kite. He was mine. He slow blinked, delirious. “Please.”

“I know what you want. You want me to give in and set you free. You’d tackle me, rip the clothes from my body and fuck me.”

The dangerous grin that spread over his face as he leant forward made my clit pulse.

“All you have to do is tell me.” I leant to him, pinched his chin and pecked his lips. “Give in, and you can have what you want.”

He sneered and pulled my bottom lip through his teeth. “No.”

I slapped his face. “That was your only chance.”

“Let me come.” He nearly sobbed.

“Tell me.” I grabbed his hair, lifting his head back.

“Fuck you.” He panted, vitriol dripping from him as he squirmed.

Instead of answering, I ran my finger over that spot on his cock, barely touching with the gentlest skim of a latex-clad finger.

He shook his head with a pained moan.

I stopped and let his head fell back.

He was marked all over, cock red and the desperation of him was glorious.

“Tell me, and I’ll let you come. I’ll give you what you need.”

The line of his neck altered as he swallowed, and I wanted to bite it.

“I can’t take anymore,” he slurred.

My heart stuttered. I was sweating and desperate myself.

“Then tell me, and this will be over.”

His chin wobbled. I unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the ground. His eyes widened.

Then my boots and jeans. All I wore was my pretty lace knickers.

“I was going to untie you if you told me, but now?” I slid down my underwear. I straddled his lap, and he blinked rapidly with his body tense.

“What do you need?”

“You,” he grunted.

Instead, I ground my pussy up and down his length, letting him feel how wet I was, almost inside me but not quite. “Well?”

The sound was feral, desperate. He ground as much as the plug allowed.

“Tell me,” I whispered into his ear.

“Fuck.”

“Give in, say her name, tell me, and I’ll give you everything.” My tits brushed his chest in the way that drove him wild.

He shook, but relaxed and stilled. His eyes swam, bright and beautiful. “Her name is…”

“Yes?” I held my hand to his throat and spoke into his hot mouth.

His brows furrowed together. “Iris.”

I grinned. And with my other hand, I grabbed his dick, and then slid onto it.

He shouted, the need radiating from him.

I didn’t move but licked my lips. “Tell me about her.”

He shuddered and squirmed before meeting my gaze. His wild eyes were calm, wide and pupils huge. “Iris. Her name is Iris. She’s the love of my life. Strong, beautiful, fearless. She lives her life with every fibre of her being. She’s the most generous spirit.” A tear fell down his cheek. “She’s the first to step up and help. She makes me a better, more thoughtful human, and I’d die without her.” His bottom lip trembled.

I blinked back my own tears, and though my heart soared, I stayed in role.

I grabbed his face, my mouth turned down, and yet he looked at me in the haze of subspace and utter love.

Then I rode him, squeezing his neck.

“Relax, let me give you this release. Don’t fight it.”

He stuttered a breath and then gave.

“My beautiful man.”

He hauled in a breath when I loosened my grip. “Iris, Iris, please, please I need it so bad.”

I smoothed his frazzled damp curls and kissed him before squeezing again. The half-smile on his perfect mouth was my focus as I fucked him. He got higher and higher until I saw the change.

I released his neck as his mouth pinched.

“Fuck, I’m coming.” He grew frantic, hips canting, and then he cried out in a guttural need. It was all I needed, my own strain and desperation overwhelming me. My tits brushed against his chest, our skin slapped, and the perfect vision of him lost to pleasure, spiralled my own. The pull of his cock inside me as he went lax came just as I peaked.

“Come, Iris, yes.”

I lost all control, pulling at his hair, wild through the pleasure.

“Iris? My beautiful Iris.” He panted.

I slumped and let my hold go.

“I love you,” he said it over and over.

I reached for the knife and cut his arms free, and still on him, reached for the little key in the bag. With his hands loose, he cupped my face, kissing me hard and deep, hands exploring me. Squeezing flesh and holding tight.

I laughed at the need.

He didn’t want to let me go, but I got off and released his feet. He kicked the rest of his clothes off and urged me onto the floor. With gentle care, he slid into me again, and I wrapped my legs around him. He shifted to cradle my head and pressed little kisses to my forehead, trembling.

“Are you okay? Talk to me,” he said quietly, still kissing me, and emotion thick in his breathless voice.

“Yes.” I kissed him, pressing my cheek to his. “Are you?”

The grin that spread over his face was so full, my heart burst. He hummed, moving inside me a little.

“That was so much fun.” He laughed. “You’re incredible.”

“I thought I went a little hard on you.”

“I’d have taken a lot more.”

“I broke you.” I narrowed my eyes, but his joy didn’t change.

“You wish you did. It was so good. Fuck. Though I need to get this thing out of my arse.”

We both laughed.

“Well, why don’t you do that, then I’ll tend to your wounds.” I pecked his lips.

He sighed when he licked them. “In a minute.”

He nuzzled me, and I stroked his back. We came down together until discomfort interceded.

I joined him in the shower when I heard it turn on, and this was my favourite bit. I’d cleanse and comfort him, and we’d live it all over again.

I loved being someone else for a little while to know who I am, and we always came home to each other.

Afternoon Delight

He wore a smile and his snug underwear and nothing else. Tall, tattoos on one arm, stubble, and an impressive body stood in the doorway.

When we met, I thought he was a poser, but under the gym-hard masculine wall of a man was a softly spoken, thoughtful and interesting soul.

I put my book down at his appearance. “What’s up?”

“I want you.”

It was a dull Saturday afternoon and rain pattered on the window. I’d had a bath, and I hadn’t dressed but lay back catching up on my reading as he’d been occupied with work. Seemed like he was done.

“Oh?” I sat up, tucking my legs to the side, robe falling open.

He bit his lip. A project manager for an eco-sustainability power company, he bore so much responsibility.

“What do you want, love?”

“I need you to fuck me.” He lifted his chin and took off his underwear.

“Are you ready?” I smirked.

“Yes.” He marched over to the chest of drawers and pulled out his accessory of choice and some lube. “Take that off.”

He was softly spoken, but in the deepness was a command; an expectation for others to follow him. In our years together, I’d never heard him raise his voice. If anything, he grew quieter when annoyed.

Kneeling, I moved to the edge of the bed and slipped it off, and he approached, grabbing my hips, fingers digging in, and kissed me.

Rough stubble met my skin in a tangle of tongue and lips until I moaned, all my wry amusement gone and need replaced it. Breaking the kiss, he leant his forehead on mine, and I cupped his jaw.

“What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, he pecked my lips again. “It’s been a long morning, and I want the kind of orgasm that makes me blackout.”

“How could I refuse?” I nibbled his lip and slowly teased my fingers down his neck and chest, always like the first time, but so familiar to me. I was home.

He swallowed when I ran my finger down the length of his dick, and it hardened as I did.

“Does it ache?”

“Yes.”

I kissed the spot under his jaw that made him wild. He grunted and roughly shifted me. He buckled the strap to my waist, then around my thighs. The straps at the back went under my arse, making it look perkier. The tightness always felt incredible as it pinched and dug in. I moaned, leaning on his shoulders. The leather panel with the dildo on was cool and moulded so it would rub perfectly on my clit.

He kissed up my chest, burying his face in my tits, teasing and playing with them, so we fell back on the bed.

Every touch was a new discovery, though we’d done this a thousand times, and I arched up, strap-on digging into him as he pulled a nipple through his teeth.

“So eager and needy, aren’t you?” I laughed.

With a grunt, he pulled himself over me and loomed. “Get in me.”

He flipped us over. Pressing up with my hands on his chest, I laughed and looked down on him.

“Whatever you say.” I lubed the dildo.

He spread his massive muscular thighs and propped up on his elbows. His cheeks flushed, breath quickened, and hard cock twitched.

He angled his hips, and I spread his cheeks, shuffling into position in the awkward lining up until I giggled.

“Stop teasing and fuck me.”

I paused. “You’re so demanding.”

He raised his brows, bit his bottom lip, and leant up. Taking the waist strap, he manoeuvred me and shifted his hips. “There.” It was almost a sneer. But it turned into relief as I pushed in. Just a nudge at first.

He eased back, the first hint of discomfort on his face. He took a deep breath and nodded.

I moved, pushing in more, thrusting slowly. His lids flickered. I leant on his stomach, feeling his abs tensing and relaxing. He held my hands and cried out.

How something could hurt so much and also be relief was an enigma. “Tell me.”

He swallowed and ground against me when I stilled. “Like an itch. Knowing a deep need and desire in… me.” He moaned, and I moved easier and deeper. “There.”

I grinned, my back already straining. It was like a workout. My thighs burned, and I worked him, watching for every reaction. Too hard, too deep, too slow; whatever pleasure he needed, I gave to him.

There’s a moment when I find what he needs and giving it to him is all I want. That gift is true depth of love. His thighs tensed, mouth opened, and he watched me fuck him. I had him. He grunted a breath and his lust heavy gaze set on me.

My beautiful, strong, incredible man found strength and power in being vulnerable. The trust he offered, the privilege of it made my heart burst with pride.

I am his, I’d do anything for him, and this? Too sexy for words. The build of pleasure in the work my body did, the reaction of him, the press of straps and pleasurable chafe on my pussy wound through me.

His breath caught. “Play with my cock.” His top lip sneered and twitched.

I shifted without breaking stride, and pressing on his ribs with one hand — which he held to steady me — and with the other, I stroked him, my lube-sticky fingers sliding over his length. So hot and hard, I knew he’d ache.

I barely touched him, but loosely closed my fist, and with every thrust, my fingers ran along the sensitive ridge down his length. His thighs tensed, and I slowed.

“I said fuck me.”

“I could, but you don’t want it over yet, do you?”

He squeezed my wrist. Sweat pickled my skin, and I slowed further.

The pause between thrusts let the pleasure build in me.

“Do you want to make yourself come?”

I smirked. “Please.”

“Take it. I want to feel your orgasm.”

With his free hand, he reached up, tweaking and teasing my nipples in turn. I couldn’t move away, or I’d fall. I had to take it with my eyes narrowed on his smirk.

“I love watching you come.”

I lost coordination.

“Keep it together.”

I grunted and focused on the hard pull of his arsehole against me. On his tormenting fingers, on the hard cock in my hand. I resisted, focused, but couldn’t hold off. I cried out, going harder and faster.

He swore. “Take it.”

I lurched as the first pulse of orgasm rose through me. He held me in place as I bucked and twitched.

“Don’t stop.”

I slowed, unable to take the slick tight pleasure against my sensitive clit, my body shuddering and stuttering out of my control.

He let grabbed my hair, bunching it. “Focus.”

I nearly sobbed, sweat beaded, my body burned, and I thrust. Hard. My wetness covering us both. Held in place, I gave him what he needed, needling the sweet spot in him. He built quickly.

In my blissed-out haze, I felt it. His hips worked with mine, desperate and tensed, growling pants, and then he stilled. His twitching hips and thighs pressed into me.

I looked down, and he came with a pulse and throb in my hand, shuddering under me, and with long needy moans.

His cum, as always, got everywhere over us. I stilled, and he went lax.

My heart pounded, and I caught my breath, slowly stroking him while he came back down. He looked at me with a big dopey grin.

“Better?”

“Oh fuck me, yes.” He licked his lips, catching his breath.

I let him have a moment until cramp kicked in.

Hissing, I eased out of him and stretched my leg while he grabbed a towel and cleaned us up. He unbuckled the strap-on, pressing sweet little kisses to me, and pulled us down.

I lay on his chest, cradled and safe.

“Okay?” I ran my fingers through his chest hair.

I rose on him as he sighed. I loved that feeling of his deep breath and the safe, perfect sound of his heart.

“You’re so good at that.” He kissed my hair.

“You’re a good teacher.”

“We should shower.”

My eyes were closing. “In a minute.”

As he stroked my back, fingers dancing over my skin, I closed my eyes, wondering at the power of letting someone fuck you. I loved it when he fucked me. Drove me wild, took my body, and poured out need into me. It was divine.

I smiled, pressing my lips to his warm, damp skin. I tasted sweat and sex and everything good, hoping for my turn next.

 

Wrapped Up

Managing a mid-sized company is hard and stressful, and I hate it. It earns me enough money to live comfortably with my partner.

He’s a builder. A rough, tanned, outdoorsy, tattooed doesn’t give a shit type. If you look at us, we do not match at all, but he’s my Sir, and I’m safe to give myself to him and let go.

It was Friday, and I was tired as hell. Work was dreadfully stressful, and I got home at six after I’d been on the go for twelve hours.

Opening the front door, I dropped my bags and stopped. A large industrial roll of plastic wrap was propped against the coat stand.

“I think you need a smile putting on your face.”

I whipped around. My Sir smiled, wearing nothing but lounge bottoms and that delightful grin. I looked back at the roll.

“You’re going to eat, shower, and let me play.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know, but you’re not sleeping, and you don’t have to get up tomorrow. I’m going to make you come over and over until you pass out, and then you’ll sleep.”

He was right. I needed to clear my mind, reset my stress and actually go to sleep.

I leant against the coats and closed my eyes. He came to me, rough hand cupping my cheek.

“Kiss me, please Sir.”

He purred. “Yes, kitten.” Pecking my lips, he slowly went to work on my mouth, soft kisses, drawing my lips through his, and I kept still under his touch. He relished kissing me, luxuriating in every stroke of tongue, sometimes drawing out pleasure until I whimpered, and sometimes bruising and cruel. I needed sensuous, and he gave it. He took my hand, and put it over his cock, hard already, leaning back. I was totally relaxed.

“Now, let’s eat.” His hair was damp from his shower but was freshly cut, he smelt of shower gel, and I wanted to curl up on him.

He had a half-day on Fridays, so he had plenty of time to prepare.

“Where did you get that?” I eyed the roll again.

“We use it to wrap the units that go into storage. Just industrial cling film.” He raised his brows.

“And you’re going to mummify me?”

“To start with.”

My heart skipped in anticipation. I don’t remember what we were having for dinner, and all I could think about was my night ahead.

“Stop picking at your food.”

I cleared my throat and ate. His goal was to care and love me, give me everything I needed, and that control centred us.

“Good.”

He urged me up to shower, and I used the body cream he liked the scent of, and put my hair in a tight ponytail.

I wore nothing, as he hadn’t told me to put anything on, and kneeling on my cushion, waited for him in the bedroom.

Carrying the roll, he grinned as he came in. “Aren’t you perfect?”

I lowered my face.

Setting the roll on the bed, he crouched down and lifted my chin. “I asked you a question.” He gave me his firm Sir voice.

“My Sir.”

“Don’t you feel beautiful?”

“No.”

“Shall I make you? Shall I show you how glorious you are?”

“Yes please, Sir.”

The depth of love in his dark brown eyes always took my breath.

“Good girl.” He stood. “Up.”

I rose and put my hands behind my back. Hauling the roll up, he took the end off in a satisfying pull of the film and lifted his arms so they encircled me.

“This will be tight. Resist.”

I took a deep breath as he wrapped the length around my shoulders. I braced my weight, and he moved around me, gradually lowering the roll. With it down to my hips in several layers, he walked me to the bed, and I fell on it. A single layer crossed my arse, missed my pussy, and he started wrapping my legs really tight.

He tore the end off. “Wriggle.”

I did. The crinkling made me laugh, and I couldn’t move.

“You like?”

“Oh my god, it’s amazing.” I was confined, pressed in, unable to take a deep breath. There was nothing I could do, no escape, and my mind cleared as I relaxed.

The day fell away, and I was completely safe with the man I loved.

“There you are, there’s my love.” He ran his thumb along my lip, sliding a finger into my mouth.

I sucked enthusiastically.

He laughed. “So eager. And you were tired, you’re just a horny little thing, now aren’t you?” He cooed as he said it.

I wiggled, luxuriating the hot wrappings sticking to my body, rustling, but unable to move more than a few inches.

“Well now, let’s see.” He slipped his bottoms off and lay next to me, biting his lip.

This had always been something I desperately wanted to try, and it was everything I hoped.

“Look at your tits.” He chuckled, pressing on my nipples. I looked down, they were squished against me.

“I like it.” His fingers danced down me, squeaking a little on the plastic, and he worked all the way down in a tease, his gentle touch barely registering, but enough to drive me wild.

All I could do was go with it, experience the softness of his touch, knowing the rough would come.

“What shall I do with you?”

Dipping his finger between my legs, he pushed two inside me, roughly massaging with his palm. His calloused working hands were the opposite of my softness, and I loved the texture of them against me. I arched, breathing hard as I could, the pressure hard against my ribs.

He leant his face down close to me. “I’m going to fuck your mouth first, I think.”

I moaned louder.

“You’re soaked already.”

I was, I felt it all down my thighs, and underneath me.

Abruptly letting go, he sat up, yanking my feet down the bed. He lifted my shoulders, and slid a pillow under, and straddled my face, facing down from me, and placed his hands either side of my thighs.

“Ready, kitten?”

I opened my mouth, and he slid his cock across my tongue. The angle let him get deeper, and I focused on opening my gullet while breathing through my nose.

With my hands flat against my hips, I dug my nails in, taking as much as he wanted to give.

Putting his weight on one hand, he finger fucked me in time with his hips. I gagged, and he lifted up so I could breathe. He kept on until it was too much to take, and I made a noise. He knew it well. He pulled out, my face sloppy as I coughed.

“Such a good girl, you took so much of me.”

Still gasping, I nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Here, let’s reward you.” Pressing down on my body, he slid his dick back in my mouth, though didn’t push in, and buried his face in the squashed space between my legs. He knew how to suck my clit just right, and with a lick between each suck, I tensed. The build instant, my throat throbbed from his cock, and I came.

Rough and hard, it was raw pleasure cutting through my body. It rolled through every nerve until I nearly swallowed every inch of his dick.

I twitched and my hips bucked until he let up. I heaved a wet breath.

He turned, lying by my side, stroking my hair, soothing me.

“I’m going to fuck you a little now. It’s going to be rough, okay?” He said it so sweetly.

I hummed.

“Say it.”

“Yes please, Sir.”

He rolled me onto my side, pulling my hips out to him. Spreading my cheeks, fingers sticking to the wrap, he tore it, grunted, and eased his cock in. Wrapping a hand around my ponytail, he rough fucked me. My face buried in the pillow, his hips slapping against me.

“Fuck you feel so good. Your pussy looks so cute all squished up, and you feel so tight.” His voice strained as he went harder, and he abruptly stopped.

I giggled into the pillow. Some people cry, or scream, or go lax, but I laugh. The harder, the rougher, the more pain I’m in, I laugh. I get so high, I float like a kite.

My Sir holds the string. He lets me soar, coasting the breeze, so free and unshackled by the world, but he brings me back and stops me from losing myself.

“Aww, there, there, stay with me.”

I knew how I’d look, eyes shining, cheeks red. He smiled, smoothing loose hair back.

“Time for pain, kitten.”

“Yes please.”

“At least pretend you’re not in complete control.”

“Sir, I’m at your complete mercy, I deserve to be hurt.” I gave him my best kitten eyes, though my mouth smirked.

“Hmm. Then I’ll have to really hurt you.”

He propped himself up on the headboard, roughly pulling me over his lap, my head hanging over the end of the bed.

He pulled the loose wrap out the way, getting comfortable, and started. Five very hard slaps to each cheek. I cried out with each one, tensing, trying to wiggle.

My skin throbbed and burnt.

He squeezed and then hit again, a little softer but close together, fast, alternating cheeks. It really hurt after a minute or so, the sting uncomfortable. Hissing through the pain, I grunted, but gave in and went lax.

Increasingly aroused, it nearly too much. I shook my head. With a harder slap, I jolted, and there it was the sweet spot. My thighs pressed together, the slickness between them, pressing down, and the rush of pain brought me closer.

I laughed, and he hit harder. Pulling my hair, I stilled, and I felt the welts forming, the bruises that would come, and I laughed more until the pleasure point hit, and I came, shuddering as he hit.

With a long cry that devolved into laughter, I was a wreck.

He let me go. “I’m going to shut that laughter up.”

Rolling me on my back, he tore through the wrap, ripping the plastic, exposing my body, taking the cocoon. Air cooled my hot, damp skin, and grabbing my thighs, he entered me.

I stopped laughing, my pussy still contracting as he went deep. He panted into my hair as he shifted for a better angle.

He held my hair in place and looked down at me. There was no amusement in him, and mine dissipated under the weight of his stare. Sneering, he put his hand around my neck, squeezing a little.

I wanted him to push and explore my soft limits. Choking was one. He used it mostly to keep my focus. He slid out, not quite all the way, and made me wait, still with disapproving eyes.

Give me pain, give me rough, dirty sex, but the fear of disappointing him, of hurting my Sir, terrified me.

Braced on his elbows, he slid in hard, and my eyes flickered. The dip of fear at the fucking I’d get, at his hand at my throat, at letting him down.

“I love you, kitten.”

My arms were still stuck to the wrap, and I daren’t try to free them. I was his, utterly given to him.

“I love you, Sir.” My whisper was quiet, but his cruel face hovered over mine, and for a brief second, he softened, almost smiling.

“Good girl.”

Then he fucked me. I still felt his hand striking my arse, cock in my throat, and he pounded my pussy. The orgasm I had lingered with each thrust, building with an overstimulated clit.

I moaned.

He squeezed.

With a cry he went faster, his hot frenetic body slamming me. I edged panic, the perfect spot, needing more, wanted the fear with the lax response of my body. I came. I begged for more in whispered prayers to my Sir.

“Fuck.” He barely got the word out as he came so hard, I felt the pulse, pussy squeezing him tight.

Lifting himself up, he let go of my neck. His breath puffed onto me as he panted. “Are you all right?” He moaned and ground slowly.

“Yes, are you?”

“Always, you feel so good.” He smiled and closed his eyes. “Something is wrong. Tell me immediately.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” I tried to look away.

In a second, he shifted his knees and hauled me up so I straddled him. He pulled off the wrap with such a satisfying rip, it was like scratching an itch. It’d stuck to my sweaty skin.

His eyes searched mine, and he spoke close to my mouth. “You could never disappoint me. You goad me and rile me, but I love it. I adore you, my kitten. I need to give you everything, worship you, love you. And if you want change, you must say, just as I would to you.”

Pulling my hair loose, he finger-combed it, sighed and kissed my collarbone. I held him tight. Our hearts thumped as one.

“My bum is so sore.”

He chuckled. “It’ll bruise again.”

I leant back. “Well, lucky me.”

He grinned, nose wrinkling.

“You know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m starved now.”

“Good, there’s pudding.” He wiggled his brow and urged me up. Just as I stood, a little wobbly, he leant forward and pulled a length of wrap off my arse.

I laughed all the way to the bathroom.

Catch Me

My man is a built like a bulldozer. Solid muscle around thick, heavy bones. All macho and growly. When I first met him, he scared the crap out of me. In truth, he cries at adverts and has the softest touch.

Except when I provoke him because I’m a brat. I push and push. One of my favourite things is stealing his shirts and hoodies. Something happens to his face, mouth goes flat and that softness evaporates.

I ride him, I adore him, I suck his big cock, and he lives to make me happy, but that primal shift fulfils a quiet need in us both.

It was a heady summer but rained in oppressive rumbles of thunder all day. Fresh rain had dried out into a hot and muggy night, and I was pent up. He was stressed at work, so release would do us good. I rolled my shoulders and planned as I cooked dinner. After we’d eaten, and he took a shower, I got ready.

He’d bought a bunch of new t-shirts. It can be a struggle to get clothes his size, and though I’m not small in any sense, the thing came mid-thigh. It was a band tee and one of his favourites. I changed and padded barefoot past him when he was coming out the bathroom half-dressed.

“Is that…”

“Mine now.”

The change was subtle. The stress lines in his brow softened, humour gleamed in his eyes before letting out a grunt.

His grunts are a language of their own. That one was: fine, let’s do this. His eyes sharpened into lust and strategy. “Take it off.”

“No. I like it.” I ran my fingers down my front.

“You know what’s going to happen.” as he spoke, he dropped his work clothes and pulled out the belt from his jeans. I appreciated his body as he did.

“You’ll try.” I smirked, backing away from him before darting downstairs.

I was giggling, already breathless as he caught up with me, and we struggled. I yelped as he turned me and let go.

“You okay baby?”

“Sucker.” I took off.

“Every time,” he roared, and we circled the kitchen island.

I’d unlocked the back door. I just had to get into the garden.

His chest rose and fell, eyes mean but grinning. “You’re going to get it. I’ll catch you, hog-tie you and get my top back, and it won’t be pretty,” he snarled, edging forward.

I backed away, tugging his t-shirt down in a vain attempt at modesty. “Promise?”

He lunged, and I dodged, throwing open the door, and ran down the garden with him on my heels. The light had just failed, the damp grass slippy under my bare feet, but I could see my goal.

Our narrow garden was long, and at the end, under the old cherry tree, he’d built us a summer house. It was enclosed and private and my favourite spot.

I ran hard. He didn’t have speed, and I relished that little victory, knowing I was going to lose. As I reached the path, he grabbed me around the waist, covered my mouth to stifle a scream, and I struggled, fighting and clawing as he panted in my ear.

With a grunt, he flipped me around and took my mouth in a bruising kiss, but I squirmed hard as he tried to lift the t-shirt.

Slipping out of his hold, I went to get away, but we slipped and fell with a thump. He pinned me, and we both grunted, laughed and panted in the struggle. On my front, pressed into the wet grass, the cold earthy scent filled my nose and cooled my burning skin.

Pressing down with one hand on my back, he held both of my hands there as he straddled my hips. I bucked under him.

“Relent.”

“Never.” I twisted as he wrapped the belt around my wrists, pulling it tight until the leather bit. He pulled the fabric up, squeezing and caressing my body as he did, and I was so aroused, I undulated into his touch but bucked hard, scrabbling.

He used the movement to pull the fabric over my head, and in a quick — and well practised — move, let the belt go, and pulled the t-shirt off. I turned over, defeated.

Panting, we looked at each other. I was covered in bits of grass and dirt, sweating, and beyond aroused.

He only wore casual lounge bottoms, his hard dick tenting out. He pulled them down, and grabbing my hips, entered me.

He kissed me hard as he did. He growled into my hair, bunching it in his fingers.

“Time for a lesson.” Thrusting deeply, he fucked me.

As darkness fell in the quiet night, on the wet earth, he took my body, and I tried not to cry out, clawing his back. Biting his shoulder, I sucked the spot and came in a breathless hard peak of bliss as I arched back, seeing the black night and crescent moon above us.

I raised my hips and bucked as I tensed, my body jerky and desperate. His long, rough moan at my pleasure slowed him and savoured my pussy gripping him.

Sated yet still desperate, I whimpered as he pulled out and flipped me over with a smack to my arse. I fisted his discarded tee as he found a deeper angle.

He grunted each breath and punishing beat of hips. Grabbing a fist of hair, he pulled my head up, rendering me immobile. Losing himself, rough and fast, all I could do was keep breathing, my body jolting and tits bouncing until he stilled, and I felt the pull and jerk inside me. Taking a minute, he caught his breath, running his hands up my back as I rolled my hips.

Sliding out, he pulled me up, and hoisted me over his shoulder, filthy and wet, while picking up the ruined tee in his other hand. “Okay, baby?”

“Mmm.” I still felt him inside me.

He slapped my arse hard and took me back in and upstairs. I looked in the mirror when he set me down in the bathroom and pulled a twig out of my hair.

“Right, you sexy fuck. Wash.”

I stepped into the shower, but he didn’t look happy.

“What’s wrong?”

He folded his arms, looking at the tee. “I really liked that one.”

I grinned, lathering shampoo into my hair, dirt and grass washing away. “I’m sorry love. Another one is arriving tomorrow.”

He laughed. “You. I fucking love you.” He ditched his grass-stained bottoms and squeezed in next to me.

I started laughing, unable to stop as he felt me all over, delighting in my body. Sharing a shower never went well, but it was fun.

Honesty and Lace

At the train station, I realised I forgot my wallet. Saturday night on the town with the girls was a rare event these days, and standing, pissed off and gaping in my small bag where my wallet should be, I knew how massively late I was. We — me and my partner — only lived ten minutes away, but I’d miss my train. My heels clipped I went as quick as possible back to the house. We’d only moved in together six months ago, and it was shiny and new, and we were happy, well I thought we were.

Noah was sweet with a soft, gentle heart. Some people have a light in them, and he was one. Not extroverted, but compelling and witty, and we laughed easily. I was a little wild, and he grounded me. I fell in love with him within a week, he told me it was our first date.

I kicked my shoes off as I let myself back in, knowing exactly where I’d left my small wallet, and jogged up the stairs. I heard the pulse of music and opened the bedroom door. I thought he was going to be playing video games, but Noah, tall and toned, dark haired with chest hair and tattoos, stood in the bedroom in nothing but a pair of lacy pink knickers.

Heat filled my cheeks and my stomach dropped. He flushed and went pale. Neither of us breathed.

“What the hell?”

“I… I’m sorry.” He turned off the music.

I swallowed. “Sorry? Why would you be sorry? It’s not the knickers.” I glanced around for someone else, but he was alone, and then looked down. They were sheer, and he wasn’t contained. It was fucking hot, but worry overcame the surprise because they weren’t mine.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me this?”

He dropped his gaze, arms at his sides. “I didn’t know how.”

I pulled in a slow breath and braced. “Whose are they?”

He hesitated and shifted. “Mine.”

“Yours?”

The flush on his cheeks deepened.

Taking a step closer, I wanted to comfort him. “Are you… trans? And it’s okay if you are.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve wondered in the past, but I’m not, I just like the feel, I like the idea of messing with gender expectation. I’m not afraid of exploring it.” He fidgeted and his dick fell out. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “Are you angry?”

I dragged my eyes up to his. “No. I think it’s hot. Do you get off on it?”

“Yes.” His face grew stern and then softened. We hovered near to each other, absorbing the moment. I wanted to touch him.

“I only came home because I forgot my wallet. If you want me to go, I will.”

“Stay.” His chest expanded and he raised his chin a little.

He’d always let me lead, always given me anything I asked for and he asked for so little in return. His generosity was a major lure, once he spent an afternoon going down on me, which became an almost transcendental experience, and was one of the hottest of my life. We moved in together not long after. Things slotted together, yet the wariness in his eyes, his fear of rejection as he held his chin up made he ache.

I dropped my jacket and stepped closer. “Do you think you want something other than just average sex? I mean I love sex with you, but are you looking for more?”

“Yes. I think about it.” His chest flushed as his breathing increased.

I reached for his hand and he leant in a little. “Like what, exactly?”

“Being under your control. Both empowered and humiliated. Tormented and teased.”

My heart stuttered. “You can start by taking them off.”

He frowned.

I spoke into his mouth. “If you’re going to wear anyone’s knickers, it’s mine.” I bared my teeth.

He suppressed his smile, cock perking up. He slowly pushed them off, stepping out.

“Take mine off and put them on.”

Falling to his knees, he slid his hands up my thighs, taking his time moving up under my dress, clutched the skimpy satin and lace knickers and slid them down. “Can I taste you, please?” He looked at me with utter devotion.

I wanted that for the rest of my life; nothing more perfect than that look existed. “No.”

He smiled with a drugged look before slipping them on. They were too skimpy, and his cock bulged. “Fuck.”

“What is it, baby?”

“They’re wet.” His abs tensed and his flushing became furious.

“Seeing you be a dirty little slut did that to me.”

“Oh fuck.”

“You like that?” I stood close to him, caressing his cheek.

“Yes, I need you. I want you.”

I kissed him, and his arms went around me. We fell on the bed, and I caressed his bottom, making him moan, grinding against me. Breaking the kiss, I laughed, pushing him off.

“I love you.” He panted and lay back.

Joy filled my blood, and I straddled him. “I love you too. I’d give you anything you wanted, be what you need. If you need to explore things without me, I’ll understand. No matter what, I’m here.”

“I don’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

I leant down and kissed him, I moved down his body, kissing and caressing. “Of course you do.” I nipped his chest. “Don’t be sorry for who you are. It’s really fucking sexy.”

He squirmed and moaned, but I held his wrists at his sides. His cock poked out the top, and one ball fell out the side.

“Look at this, can’t even contain it, such a dirty boy.”

He panted harder. Squeezing his wrists, I took him into my mouth.

I’d never really thought about it, but he loved eating me out, yet I rarely went down on him. I loved sucking cock. I loved how shudderingly vulnerable it can make a guy.

“You don’t… need to…” He was rigid.

I let him go with a pop. “Don’t you like it?”

He raised his head. “I do. Feels amazing.”

“Then why do you never let me?” I licked his length.

His eyes flickered. “Because you shouldn’t have to.”

“You do know I love your cock, right?”

He smirked but his head fell back as I went back to work.

It didn’t take long until he tensed, grunting his moans, and I let him go.

“No.”

“Oh, I didn’t say I’d let you come.”

“Please.”

Instead, I bit the inside of his thigh, full muscle and soft flesh under my teeth, but not hard. He tried to sit up.

I licked the spot, and rubbed my face over the fabric bunched under his dick. Crawling over him, I pinned his arms under my knees and sat on his face.

Taking my time, I let him breathe before grinding my pussy up and down his open mouth, tongue licking. It didn’t take long to come, and I was loud and needy as I took from him. The realisation struck me as I came down from my high, we’d done this before, and all we were doing was expanding it. Now I could learn and understand it, and us.

He drew a deep breath as I sat up.

“I love how you let me come how I want,” I panted, “always have. Just thought you were a generous lover, but fuck, this is so much hotter.”

“I need to come.”

“Do you?” I got off him and kissed his wet face.

His hands sought under my furled up dress. “Please, please let me come.”

I bit his lip. “No.”

Noah’s eyes fluttered.

“What else do you want? Pain?”

“Hmm, no, I’m not sure I do. Anal, definitely.”

“You want me to fuck your arse?”

He nodded.

My heart pounded at the idea, thrilled by it, and I was still squirmy and aroused. I needed him and pulled him over me. I squeezed his bottom, tangling my fingers in the knickers at the top of his thighs, and got him inside me. We both cried out.

I guided his movement, kissing his neck. “Tell me.”

He trembled as I snaked a finger to his anus.

“You wear a strap-on. Not too big. Underwear.” The word became a groan as I massaged his arse.

“You tie me down, humiliate me, tease me, ruin me.” He punctuated his words with sweet kisses as he undulated into me. “Tell me I’m your naughty slut, laugh and tease me, be you, everything I love. Make me try on all your sexy underwear, model it for you. Tell me I look pretty as you laugh and tease me.” He moaned as I slowed him. “Suck my cock, draw it out while I try to keep calm. Make me wear them all day, waiting for you to fuck me. Bite my arse before fucking it with your cock, make me your…” He cried out, but I stilled him.

“Not yet baby.” I kissed his neck, making him tremble. “You really want me to do those things to you?”

He braced up, skin sweaty and flushed. “More than anything.”

I tapped his bum cheek and yanked the fabric, twisting it at his thighs. “Now make me come again.”

He fucked me. Hard and fast the way I liked.

“You can’t come. Not yet.”

He gritted and bared his teeth as he braced up and I lifted my legs higher. The hard jolting and angle was the best way for me to come. I dug my nails in, squeezed him with my thighs and bucked up as taut ecstacy built and expanded in release. I cried out, overwhelmed with pleasure.

He stilled, letting me ride out the last of a hard and overstimulated orgasm, circling my hips. He shuddered.

“Promise me something.” I panted, soothing my hands over his shoulders.

The pain of need in his face as his eyes pinched met my sated ecstatic gaze. “Mmm.”

“Talk to me in future. Things you want or don’t. Tell me. Or even if you don’t want me to be a part of it. I need to know.”

“I swear.” He searched my eyes, leant down and kissed me.

“Good. Get on your knees.”

He frowned but obeyed, his wet cock red and hard as he pulled out with a moan. From my bedside table, I pulled out a little tube of lube and a small plug.

His eyes darted to mine. We’d used it once or twice on me, and he was into it, maybe it made him think he wanted it for himself.

I lubed it up and eased it in with him on his hands and knees. He took it easier than I expected, though he cried out.

“Okay, baby?”

“Yes.”

“You like it up the arse?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Imagine when it’s me fucking you.”

“Oh fuck yes.”

I ummed and ahhed about how I was going to do this, but lay on my back under him, grabbing a pillow for my head, and upside down to him, guided his cock in mouth. I sucked my taste off him, and he tensed.

“Oh fuck, I can’t hold back.”

I laughed around his lovely dick, hands on his arse, getting him to take my mouth. I crept a hand to the plug, playing with it as he thrust, hitting the back of my mouth.

I deep-breathed through my nose, focusing on playing with him, and his hips twitched, body shaking as he started to lose control. Tears came to my eyes, gagging a little, but I didn’t care, and teased the plug harder, and then his soft moans became louder, desperate. His arse clenched hard and he came. I hummed at the pulse in his cock against my tongue, cum in my mouth as I sucked and licked him. It was the first time I’d tasted him. I was so happy as he was undone by my tongue and lips.

He fell down, and I fetched wipes and removed the plug, cleaning him up.

He looked delirious as he caught his breath. “Thank you.”

I cuddled him to me, holding tight. “I love you, I’d do anything you wanted.”

“I love you too. I’m so lucky.”

“You are.”

He laughed, and I kissed his hair.

I was grateful beyond words that I’d forgotten that wallet in my haste to catch the train. Noah sighed as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Tell me everything.” I ran my fingers through his short dark hair and waited. There was so much I didn’t know, so much we had to discuss.

Pressing a kiss to my soft full breast where his head rested, he told me everything. We talked until the early hours, made love, and he showed and explained things he needed.

I understood his reluctance to be open, it was a lot, but I’d learn, for him, and for me.

 

The Devil’s Doorbell

The night was warm and a light breeze cooled my skin as I sipped my drink, ice cold on my lips.

The view from my deck showed me rolling hills and woods, and there were only the sounds of rustling leaves and the occasional animal in the dark beyond.

The thing about the countryside is that I can do what I like. No soul can see me. Finishing my drink, I set the glass down and ran my fingers through my hair.

I didn’t need others for my lust, I knew how to find my pleasure well. Running my hands down my neck and over my breasts, I put my feet up on the opposite chair, and slid up my thin white summer dress.

I wore nothing underneath, and rested my hand between my legs, relaxing. Circling two fingers lazily over my clit, I let all the tension in my body go. The first stirrings of easy pleasure licked through my nerves, and with my other hand, I pressed two fingers inside.

It’d be easy to rush, to seek release for its own sake, but I didn’t. I went slow.

My quiet breath lost to the breeze as time slipped away. Stars turned overhead as I enjoyed my body.

Then, as ever, I felt watched.

This had become a ritual. Every night, I’d sit and pleasure myself and at some point, I knew someone was out there watching.

The worst or best thing was that I liked it. They never showed themselves, I never acknowledged them except I opened my legs wider and performed.

I broke out into a sweat with two fingers deep inside, and my eyes set out into the dark.

A twig broke, and I saw the outline of movement at the end of my garden, and I came.

I cried out, only softly but it echoed, loud in the suddenly still night. I fucked myself, unable to stop, the ecstasy overwhelming me. My light dress chafed on my skin, clinging to the sweat, yet I needed touch.

From the darkness, it came. A tall figure, like a man but not, and I went still, desire and lust heavy in my blood, but I held my breath as he neared.

Red. His skin was blood red. Long curling horns, sharp black eyes, and a tail poked out from a long robe.

Even my heart stopped, but I couldn’t move. My legs spread, fingers inside my pussy, shocked beyond thought.

“You know me?”

I drew a sharp breath at his voice, rough and strange.

“I have watched you for weeks, embracing your lust. Enticing me with your call.”

My heart beat again, and I went to move.

“No. Stay.” He sneered showing me his fangs, and I whimpered.

He stepped onto the deck, and my shock abated.

“Are you the devil?” my breathless voice stuttered. 

“The. As if there was only one.” He tutted and tilted his head, inspecting me.

“What do you want?”

“You. You called, your lust and desire brought me to you.”

My leaden legs and arms lightened. “To sell my soul?”

He smiled. It was almost sweet. “I have been alone a long time but I feel your desire, I want it. I can show you delight of which you cannot conceive.”

“What’s your name?”

“I have none that you could understand, other than He. I am as your mind desires.” He gestured to himself. “And I know what you desire.”

“May I move, please?”

“No. I like the sight of you open for me.”

“Just like that, I’m supposed to welcome you in and obey?”

He laughed. “Shall I convince you? One. You cannot bear me a child or disease. Two I am built to give pleasure, lust is my delight. Three. No bargain, no soul selling, no evil other than my cock. Would you like to see it?”

I was dreaming. It was a vivid dream after I passed out from my orgasm, there was no other explanation. Might as well have some fun. “Very well.”

He slipped off the cloak, letting it fall. He was muscular and broad as if I conjured the perfect body. I blinked at the cock jutting out. He curled his tail, showing a pointed end. I raised my brows. I clenched in desire, my heart beating faster. 

“Yes or no? You are free to make this choice. Fuck a devil or not. But know once you know my touch, no other mortal will give you this pleasure.”

“Suits me, I don’t tend to fuck anyone but my own hand.”

He purred as I withdrew my fingers, leaving my legs open. He came to me, kneeling between my thighs, and I took the opportunity to look closely.

Reaching out, I caressed his soft cheek, finding the skin hot and smooth. He paused, looking at me. He seemed vulnerable and gentle.

I sat forward and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Black eyes searched mine. “You’re not afraid.”

“Should I be?”

“I hoped you’d welcome me. Few truly do.”

“Come in,” I whispered. I ran my hand up his face, running my fingers over his horns, and his lips parted before his look darkened.

He shifted my hips and pushed inside me. I screamed at the intrusion; it was wrong but perfect and I needed him. We stilled, gazes locked, tension hovered, and my stomach dipped in excitement. With his head thrown back, he growled, gripped my hips, nails pinching in, and took me. This was no dream. Horror and fear mingled with truth and overwhelming need for this. Filled and elated, I gave to him. 

Rough and hard at first, all I could do was hold his forearms. I focused on his body, more beautiful by the second, and when I couldn’t take anymore, he slowed.

He tugged the strap of my dress, pulling it down, exposing me. “I can show you so many delights, you deserve to know them.” He kissed my neck, making me moan as his fangs scraped me. 

He burnt against me as his tail wrapped around my thigh, and drawing it higher, it slid further up, the end seeking other places. “Let’s begin.”

Halloween Party

Sexy Belle. I know, but I was online shopping and had a few glasses of wine trying to figure out what to wear to the Halloween party I was going to and thought it was funny.

It wasn’t.

I wear glasses. I love books. I like big hulking men, so it seemed a good idea at the time.

I’m also tall, and the yellow satin skirt barely covered my arse. This wasn’t me. I’m not that woman, but isn’t that the point?

Our little crowd scored tickets to this thing, and I was dreading it. It was a misty evening on the brink of rain but not freezing. Which was great because I was half-naked.

Inside was bright and loud and full of people. I resisted the urge to recoil and grabbed a drink from a tray.

The place was packed with excess and revelry, and my friends threw themselves into it. I didn’t. I watched from the sidelines as usual.

Jen, the closest thing to a best friend of mine, joined me. “You’re being boring.”

“I am boring.” With a dry look, I downed the rest of my sparkling wine.

“Come on Liz.”

“I’m here, I dressed tarty, what more do you want?”

She grinned but sighed. “You’re right. I’m proud you nearly got your tits out.”

I grabbed another drink as a little group of people came in, and I froze.

He was nearly a foot taller than everyone else, blond hair almost white, and wearing a phantom type mask.

“That is Victor,” Jen said as she caught me staring, and closed my mouth for me with a finger to my chin. 

“Is it,” I murmured.

Jen laughed. “He’s not social. I’ve only seen him once. My ex’s brother’s friend. Polish I think. He was in an accident.”

“What accident?”

“Industrial. He was crushed when some machinery exploded.”

Then I saw it. Two fingers on one hand, the edge of a scar running out from under his mask.

He looked my way, and the palest blue eyes stared out from his mask. I couldn’t draw breath. The moment seemed to string out, and then he turned away.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded and went to the loo. I arranged my tits again, seeing as they were determined to escape, and went back out. Victor was gone. 

I didn’t see my friends either, and restless, I went outside to the patio terrace. Steps led down to torchlit gravel paths that skirted a fountain and box gardens. It was beautiful.

Out of place and ridiculous, I needed quiet. One side of the broad terrace, shrouded in darkness, was deserted, and at the end, it turned giving a view of the barest outlines of gardens. I headed into the dark quiet and leant on the thick stone balustrade. Damp and rough, I picked at the lichen.

“You shouldn’t lean like that.”

I snapped up at the voice and spun around. The slight accent to the deep sound brought heat to my face, that and the fact I’d flashed my backside.

From the darkness, a figure moved, and I’m sure my heart stopped. He stepped forward, light from a window showing his silhouette. Victor.

“Are you frightened?”

“Of being alone with a man I don’t know in the dark? I mean, common sense would dictate that.”

“But you’re not?”

My head swam, and the pressure in my face reminded me to breathe. He came a little closer, still leaving several feet between us. He wasn’t wearing his mask, scars ran over his face, his nose was broken, but I thought he was hot.

“Satisfied? Run along little girl.”

I laughed. “First of all, I’m not little.” I gestured to myself. “I’m thirty-three, so a woman, not a girl. And satisfied at what? I didn’t know you’re here.”

He scowled. “You were staring.”

“I don’t get out much. I rarely see men who are tall and broad enough for my taste. You’re my type.” My forwardness wasn’t me. 

“Huh?”

I shrugged and turned around. I shivered as I leant back on the stone.

“I said you shouldn’t do that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t look.”

He laughed, a rumbling muted noise. Standing next to me, he leant down so our upper arms nearly touched.

“What is your name?”

“Liz. You’re Victor. Jen knows you.”

“Ah, I remember her a little.”

We didn’t speak for a minute, and it was nice. He cleared his throat. “There are bats here.”

“I love bats.” I grinned.

He pointed up, and we turned to look. We stood close together in silence. His presence was exciting and comforting.

“There,” he whispered, pointing. A dart of a tiny shadow. It flitted past us and then another. I grinned and grabbed his shirt.

He leant right down to my ear. “That’s why they have this bit closed. They’re protected.”

The sound of his deep voice did something to me, and I shivered.

He stood up stepping away. “Apologies. I’m not used to being outside and with people anymore.”

“Oh. I’ll leave you in peace, then.”

“You don’t have to go.” He glanced at me. “I don’t talk to women. This is nice.”

“Why?”

“I scare people. I thought Halloween would be easier.” He waved the mask and set it down. “It’s not better. My face is other people’s costume.”

“If it’s a consolation I think you’re hot.”

He blinked.

“Really. Very.”

“No one has said that in a very long time. Thank you.”

I felt like a nob. The silence got awkward. “Anyway.”

I made to leave, but he touched my arm. “I, um, I forgot how to do this, not that I was any good at it. You’re very lovely. And I er…” his eyes drifted down, but he pulled them up, flushing a little.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to be nice to me.”

“I think you’re hot too.” He screwed his face up.

“Wow. That was hard to say, am I that bad?” I fake laughed. “Bye.”

“No wait please I mean it, I just… I suck at this.”

“At flirting?”

He nodded.

“Is that what that was supposed to be?”

He slumped against the balustrade, folded his arms and scowled the patio into submission. “You are beautiful. And nice. Most people stare in horror or won’t look at me at all. They definitely don’t call me hot.”

“I haven’t been on a date in over a year.” I shifted my feet, heels pinching. 

“Why?”

“I’m tall. Don’t take shit. I’m clever. Reasonably successful. I scare men. They’re weak and threatened. So if I’m honest, I’m not looking for a relationship. I miss sex.” I realised what I said and clamped my mouth shut. I shivered.

“Sex?” He stood straight and neared me.

“I came to this thing with the ridiculous idea that I might pull. Even just a kiss, I want connection.”

His eyes fluttered. “Yes. If you really want to kiss me.”

I stepped nearer. “Why would I not?”

“A prank, pity.” He focused on my mouth, and I slipped my glasses off. He blurred.

“I hate pranks. I don’t pity you.”

We were so close I felt his body heat. I shivered harder.

“You’re cold.”

“Excellent powers of observation.”

He was in full costume and grabbed the cape and wrapped it around us both. I leant into him, and he radiated heat.

I looked up, sliding my hands around him, but he turned his face away.

“We don’t have to do this. At all.”

He cleared his throat but held tighter. “I want to kiss you.”

I reached up, sliding my hand up his back. It was so good to be held, to hold another. The need for connection buzzed in me.

“Then do it.”

He focused on my mouth, licking his lips before pressing his to mine. Soft yet firm and hesitant.

I licked at him, and he opened. Reticence left, and with a hum, he squeezed me and took my mouth. I kept up, and we stumbled against the nearest wall, shrouded in complete darkness. With his hands reaching my arse, he shifted me up a little, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

Needy and desperate, he was incredible. He broke away gasping for breath. We panted, lips hovering close.

“I want you.”

He went rigid.

“I don’t do this. Really. But I want you.” I tried not to grind against him.

“Yes.” He kissed me again and held nothing back.

Hardness pressed between us.

I heard laughter. We stilled.

“Have you seen that tall slutty nerd that Vic was gawping at?” A man said. Victor’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah, in that Belle costume. Looking for trouble with that outfit. Nice tits though.” Laughter.

Victor slowly put me down.

“She looked desperate enough even for Vic.”

He closed his eyes, pained.

I put my finger to his mouth and felt his crotch and undid his fly. His eyes shot open.

“It’s not like he’d pull her.”

I smirked.

“She’s hot though. I might have a crack.”

Victor sneered, but it transformed into pleasure as I freed his cock. Fucking thing was massive. I crouched down, and he bit his bottom lip as I took what I could in my mouth.

This was not what I planned.

He smelt clean and tasted good. I sucked and licked as he trembled. The sounds of the others muffled as they moved off.

He pulled away and urged me up. “Shit I don’t have any protection.”

With shaking hands, I found one in my little clutch. “I always carry one, not that I ever get to use them.”

He took it, and I shuffled my knickers off.

We heard them call Victor’s name, and I tried not to laugh. He hoisted me up the wall again, covering us in his cape, and I wriggled and angled as we got into position and he slid right in all the way.

He muffled my cry with a kiss. It was perfect. Hot, hard, and deep. I felt full and connected.

It was the sweetest moment. Overwhelming and visceral in the cool dark.

Fisting my hair, he growled, and he moved.

Nothing but us, our beating hearts, and our need. We sought a place without words; new but a memory.

The voices grew louder as he started to thrust.

Fear and excitement mixed with the pleasure of being fucked against a wall in public. His breath was hot against my neck as he jolted me. I clung on and watched the patio. A figure rounded the corner with his back to us.

“Person.”

Victor stilled but ground slowly against me in the right way. The person hovered not leaving. I tensed, thighs squeezing him as he kept working me, and I came. Intense and silent, I held my breath, nails digging in through his suit, my pussy spasmed hard. He expelled a slow breath.

“No, I don’t see him.” The figure wandered off.

“Fuck me, please.” I urged him to move.

With a grunt he did. Pounding me, desperate, and all I could do was hold on.

I started to go lax at the ferocity, but he stilled, holding back his cry as he shuddered inside of me.

He kissed my cheek and said something I didn’t understand. Carefully, he eased out of me, and gently set me down. I put my knickers back on while he got rid of the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and tossing it in a bin at the edge of the patio. He peeked around the corner and came back to me.

He held me, kissing my hair. “That was so good.”

“It was. Bit cold.”

“Do you want to go? With me. I mean. To mine. Why am I not less awkward?”

“Yes. Take me home.”

He smiled at me.

He picked up his mask, and I straightened my dress and put my glasses back on.

“Ready?” I took his hand.

The bright, loud part grated as we moved through. My friends gaped and gave me the thumbs up when they spotted me. I waved.

In the foyer, we saw his friends. They went silent.

I turned to them. “Desperate? Not desperate enough for twats like you. Hot for this stud though.” I flipped the douche-friend the bird.

Victor pulled me along with a squeeze to my arse. “When we get to mine, I’m going to eat your pussy until you come on my face for that,” he whispered.

This was going to be a fun night.

 

Submitted to Housework

I tapped the wooden arm of the bedroom chair, clicking my nails, watching.

The nude man on the other side of the room glided an iron across a freshly washed bed sheet. He neatly folded it and set it down on the perfectly placed pile next to him.

Bored, I got up, but he didn’t lift his face and started on a blouse. I stood next to him, steam rising, the smell of heated cotton and the vague scent of him close by made me want. I palmed his naked bottom, squeezing it, but he didn’t pause.

I leant right in, still feeling him. “You’re doing a terrible job.”

“Sorry, I’ll do better.”

“You say that every time. And yet you never improve. Bend.”

He hovered, the smallest doubt in his eyes as he turned his head slightly, but he obeyed. He held the ironing board and bent a little.

“More.”

His chest rose silently, and he went further. I pinched hard, making him tense.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I smacked his arse cheek hard, and he jolted forward. He didn’t make a sound. He never did. Always silent until I pushed him too far.

Each sharp slap was loud in his quiet resistance. I stopped at ten.

“Continue.” My hand stung, and I admired my work. His bottom beautifully red.

“Thank you, Mistress.” His voice unruffled, he went straight back to his task.

Sitting back in the chair, my heart thumped, and desire kindled the fire to come. He ironed a pair of trousers, and as he hung them up, his hands trembled. He glanced at me, wet his lips and started on another shirt. He carefully navigated the fiddly buttons as I draped one leg over the arm of the chair, exposing myself. My dress rode up, and he glanced at me. I wore nothing under it. Blinking hard, he clenched his jaw. Running my hand down my front, I pushed my hips forward.

His cheeks reddened as I cupped between my legs, my pussy hot and wet against my hand.

He ironed slower, continually glancing at me.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“Nothing, Mistress.”

“Ah, poor sweet, you can tell me.” I opened my legs wider, hiding nothing as I pushed two fingers inside me.

“I want you.”

“When you finish.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

His hidden disappointment cut me, always did. I huffed, getting up again.

I stood behind him, and put my fingers in his mouth. Sucking them hard, he moaned.

“Carry on.” He continued on the next, a silk shell top. He set the iron to silk, and gently placed the blouse on the board, smoothing it out as the iron cooled before starting on it.

I felt all over his body. “This is my favourite top. Be careful with it.”

He didn’t miss a beat as the iron glided through the delicate fabric, light steam rising. I grasped his cock hard, but he didn’t flinch.

So well trained.

I stroked it, kissing his back, my free hand roving over the contours of his body. I palmed his still hot and red bottom, and the only sign he gave me of any discomfort was his slight intake of breath.

My stoic, sweet man never complained, never begrudged me an inch of my power. In fact, he needed it.

I pinched his bottom and bit his back. He shuddered as he set the iron down and hung up my blouse. I kissed where I bit, and looked up at the hanger.

“Perfect.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” His reverent whisper was perfect.

“Good deeds deserve rewards.”

He moved onto another pair of trousers as I picked out a roll of PVC tape.

I went to my knees under the board, kissing down his body and feeling all the way. I cupped his balls, stroking his hard and hot dick. There wasn’t much left on the roll, but enough, and un-spooling it, I folded the plastic strip, so it was narrower and wrapped it around the base of his cock and balls. The only sign of his discomfort was the tensing of his thighs and the softest moan in his breath.

His cock reddened, balls tight, and a small bead of moisture beaded and fell. I caught it with my tongue.

He drew a sharp breath and trembled as I ran my tongue over the tip.

I didn’t take him into me, but teased with the slightest licks and caresses, barely a touch.

The ironing board wobbled as he ironed harder.

I let him go and stood. The crease in my trousers was off.

I grabbed the fabric, the hot smell of laundry clouded on the residual steam. “What’s this?”

He set the iron down. He lowered his face.

I squeezed his cock, and he gritted his teeth. He knew what was coming.

“Bend,” I spat.

He nodded, and he leant over. I stuffed as much of the trouser leg into his mouth as possible. He bit on it. From behind us I picked out a long flexible cane and teased him with it.

With one hand on his back, I stuck hard. He held his breath, as I hit his solid thighs, up to his sensitive bum, and back. Criss-crossed lines appeared. The sticky sheen of sweat broke out over his skin, yet he didn’t cry out. It was his only denial of me, that lovely sound of a cry in pain.

His beauty was soft strength; calm penance against my vicious, sharp desire.

His breath came fast, and I halted, he panted gripping the board for dear life.

“My sweet.” I fingered the red welts, and found no broken skin.

He stood, swooning a little, and braced against the board. He groaned, clearing his throat. “Thank you, Mistress.” He trembled as he picked up the iron.

I blinked away my softness for him and set the cane down. Tears filled my eyes as I went back to my seat. I turned slowly, catching the small smile on his face.

His eyes sparkled, and cheeks reddened as he ironed the crumpled fabric that had been in his mouth.

“Feeling smug?”

“Chastised, Mistress.”

My heart calmed, and I picked up where I left off. Finding release from the chemicals rushing and the divine sight of my husband happily ironing naked with his hard cock jutting out.

I palmed a tit exposing myself and moaned, the heat in my pussy almost too much.

He didn’t look up but caught of glimpses of me as he folded and hung clothes. I teased myself, not seeking orgasm. I lost all sense of dignity, provoking him, and yet he didn’t once falter.

When he set the iron down and rounded the board, I stopped.

“I’ve finished, Mistress.”

With a sigh, I stood, righting my dress. “Let me check.” I rounded the board, running my hand over his still red back. He hissed a little. I looked through the immaculately ironed clothes. “You’ve done a good job.”

“Thank you.” He couldn’t hide his smile.

“Are you proud?”

“No, of course not.”

“Insolent.” I grasped his cock.

Arching his head back, he gave it to me; the sound of need.

“Please.”

“Please? You want this?” I took a hand and put it between my legs. He turned his face, chest rising and falling sharply with a dark look in his eyes.

“You want to taste?”

“Yes please, Mistress.”

I grabbed his hair and urged him down to his knees. He greedily went for my pussy, pushing my dress up, humming as he licked and sucked. I came quickly, already beyond aroused.

I pulled away. He fell forward and looked up, saying what I’d waited for. “I need to come.”

Hot lust syphoned through me. “Do you?” I tilted my head.

He closed his eyes, so pained.

“Put your hands behind your back, and sit up.”

He obeyed, and I squatted down, hovering over his tip. I dug my fingers into his neck, and he bared his teeth, body straining as I slid down onto his cock, so hot, hard and throbbing.

He gave in, finally crying out.

I pressed my face against his, kissing him roughly.

“Fuck, please, please.” His red cheeks darkened, eyes pinched.

I came again; his submission always gave me satisfaction, I slowed, drawing the pleasure out, pussy tight in anticipation before peaking in waves of pleasure.

I pressed my teeth against his lips, and he shook.

“Please let me come, Mistress.” It was a quiet prayer that I’d longed for.

“Is it there? Hovering? The edge of pleasure with your cock bound tight? Can you no longer resist?”

His eyes flickered. I kept riding him, enjoying the last of my bliss, relaxing against him.

“You have permission. Take your pleasure.”

With a growl, he grabbed my waist, fisting the fabric of my dress and thrust up. Every thrust was a grunt, claiming his denied pleasure. For weeks, I’d not let him come, I teased and forbade his orgasms. He fell forward, lying me down, and took me with abandon. Hard and desperate, I relished the man whose quiet dignity I’d dismantled.

I laughed, knowing the pain his cock would be in from the tape. I fingered his back, feeling the welts, and with a sharp gasp when I pressed my nails in, he came. I felt the hard pulsing twitch and rush of cum inside me. It seemed to go on forever. Spent and limp, he fell against me, and I cradled him, soothing and crooning as he recovered his breath.

As he came around, he leant up, wincing.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Not enough.” The fucker smirked and kissed me, teasing my lips.

“How long do we have?”

He looked up behind me. “The kids will be back in an hour.”

“A few more minutes then before I tend to your wounds.”

He laughed, and I kissed his neck. I loved Sunday afternoons.

 

Control

Shifting in my wheelchair, I turned one wheel, pivoting around. “Take me to bed.”

My man with his immaculate beard and broad shoulders lowered his eyes.

When we met, I was instantly drawn to the gentle quiet that radiated from him. The strength both physical and emotional pulled me in.

Stepping forward, he reached down to my chair, eyes fixed on mine, slid an arm under my thighs, hoisting me out the chair, and cradled me. Heat, heartbeat, and the scent of him filled me. Mine.

We turned and walked up the stairs. He snuggled me into his chest. “Mistress?”

“Yes, my love?” I watched him, but he stared straight ahead.

“Are you tired?”

“A little but no more than usual.”

A deliberate smirk ran up his mouth.

“What do you want?” I stroked the side his face as he set me on the bed.

He didn’t kiss me, but hovered, the need on his face as he took a breath. I denied him.

Curling my legs underneath me, I knelt.

“Hurt me.” His fevered whisper always made me laugh.

“Strip.”

He did. Unbuttoning his shirt, he slipped it off, revealing his lovely body. His jeans followed and he was already hard when he slipped his underwear off, cock bouncing up as he did.

Kneeling on the floor so we were eye to eye, he leant into me. I slapped his face and he gripped the edge of the bed, eyes flickering with a smirk.

“Harder.”

I did it again. He grasped his cock.

“Do not touch it.” I hit him again.

He grunted and grinned. “Fuck. Again.”

“I hope you’re not making demands of me?”

“Sorry Mistress, I just want you so much. I need your touch.”

Our mouths were so close, I salivated.

At twice my size, he could crush me, but he knew my fragility and his strength as he bowed to worship me.

His queen. Mistress.

His love was bigger than anything I’d known, and he gave me power.

“On your front.”

“You don’t have to, you can watch me.”

“I want to fuck you.”

His breath kicked up.

I tilted my head and sneered. “Strip me.”

He licked his lips and obeyed, carefully unwrapping me.

“I’m not made of glass.”

He set me on my back and ran his palm, rough from his job, from navel to neck, caressing me. His dick twitched and abs tensed. Curling his fist on my knickers, he pulled them down.

I opened my legs. “Look but don’t touch.”

He looked ravenous as he licked his lips. Sometimes I wondered who was in charge, the lines fuzzed with our dynamics.

I’m required to submit my physicality to others. To retain any independence, I must give some autonomy up. I give that to him, he welcomes it, but always at my command, I give him pain, and he demands it. We’re nothing if not complicated.

“Let’s play.”

He smirked and leant over me. He had the power to crush me. With a gentle peck on my lips, he braced over me.

“Anything you want, Mistress.”

“Kneel on the bench, facing away from the bed.”

At the end of the bed was a blanket box, and as he positioned himself, I pulled out the box of delights from under the bed and the soft lengths of fabric we kept in there.

Although walking is difficult, I can a little, but my wellness varies, and I was feeling okay. I crawled along the floor until his dick was in my face.

“Shall I do my feet, Mistress?” He knelt proudly as he waited.

“No.”

I tied each thigh to each ankle, then tied them off to the foot post either side of the bed, followed by his hands. He was spread for me. He struggled a little.

“Perfect. You are beautiful.”

I picked out the cock ring he liked and eased his balls through before pulling his cock through. He shouted and gritted his teeth. I’m not always kind, but he loves it.

“There.” I grinned, but he huffed, and I sucked his cock, pulling it tight into my mouth.

He cried out. Letting him go, I caressed him all over before giving his cock a sharp tap. He squirmed in his position, body straining.

I laughed, running a nail up the inside of his thigh. “Look at you, pathetic.”

He lowered his face, cheeks red, and a bead of moisture appeared at the tip of his dick. “Sorry Mistress.”

Crawling up, I moved behind him, and put my arm around his chest, kissing along his shoulder.

“What do you want?”

“Are you feeling generous, Mistress?”

I squeezed my hand to his throat, gently holding him in my grip. His head fell back.

“You forget yourself.”

He panted, and I pressed my fingers, making him struggle with a little smile. “Sorry, Mistress.” His hips undulated, rubbing his arse against me.

“I doubt you are.” I let go.

Out of the open case,  I found and fastened the strap-on, and he moaned, knowing what was coming.

Kneeling close, I lubed the dildo, and between his cheeks before nudging in. This one was his favourite. Narrow at the tip with a wide base, it was long undulating and almost tongue-like.

He leant forward as much as he could, and I slid in. We were well practised. I made love to him. Lube everywhere because I loved it slippy, and his huge frame at my command. I undulated my hips up to him, feeling the strain on my thighs. This was as much as I could manage, and it was enough. Reaching around, I wanked him, hand firmly slipping up and down his cock.

His breath grew ragged and he shook, twitching.

I stopped and he worked his hips until I squeezed his neck again. He cried out.

“When I stop, we stop.”

I waited for him to calm, and I thrust again in long deep strokes, my fist working in tandem. He shook his head, desperate cries vibrating under my hand in his throat.

“Close,” he growled out. I went still and let his neck go, holding his chest and pressing into his back.

Slumping forward, he waited.

His strength became mine, and his submission always bolstered me. We both knew the consequences but it was part of our ritual. Our dance.

I moved again in shallow but harder thrusts and he screamed. As he pulled forward, back tensed, I knew he was reaching breaking point. Sweat beaded on his body.

I teased and stroked him.

“Fuck, yes.”

I stilled.

He growled, and I laughed. It was time to let him play.

Withdrawing, I pulled the knot at one wrist, and then the other, and he moved like lightning.

His legs were free in seconds, and turning, he looked desperate and wild. I could only smirk and pin him with a glare as I fell back.

Crawling over me, he grabbed my hips and flipped us over. Hard fingers pinned my waist. The man actually snarled in desperation as he hitched his knees up and apart.

“Do you want me inside?” I cocked my head.

“Yes. Now.”

I slapped his face. “What?”

The deference returned. “I’m sorry, my Queen, please. Please.”

With a hum, I settled and pushed inside.

His cheeks flushed, face pinched. “Hurt me. I need it.”

I held his cock with one hand, but he grabbed my other hand and put it to his throat, resting my elbow on his chest. 

I let him guide the pressure as he put his knees around me, urging me to fuck him.

I went at his pace, delighting as his eyes rolled back, mouth opened and head arched back. I squeezed.

Working his cock as I owned him, I relished his beauty. The masculine strength he exuded. The self-assurance he held in his sexuality was perfection. He twitched, shouted out, and came.

Letting go of his throat, I fell on him. His hands instantly holding me. He kept his legs tight and as I went limp, and ground me against him. Lube and cum everywhere, it worked under the strap-on.

He knew how to make me come, and it built quickly with my body slipping over his.

“Fuck, you feel good in me.”

Pleasure built, his responses still fresh, his need ever-present.

“Oh, I’m going to come again.”

His hands moved to my arse and he moved me, grinding in just the right way to get us both off.

I clung to him. Strength and muscle under me, his breath hard and heart pounding.

I moaned, spiralling upward and bucked into him.

“Yes.” He moved me faster, cock squashed between us and then hot liquid pulsed on my skin as he came again, and my orgasm rushed in me, long and deep.

We slumped in a sweaty tangle, my eyes already closing.

He slipped me out and cleaned us both up.

Exhausted, my muscles screamed but it was worth it.

He spooned me, kissing my hair and fell asleep almost instantly.

For a long time I lay in the dark, stroking his forearm, replaying what we shared, my pain throbbing and biting until exhaustion won out, and I slipped into dreams.

This was the price.

I’d barely move tomorrow; I know my body well. He’ll take care of me. His attentive submission in my reliance on him is nuanced. Beautiful. I’d love to live without pain, yet what we share is without parallel and I’d not change it for anything.