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. 


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.”


“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. 


“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.


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.


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


“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.


“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? 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.



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.


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.


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.


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.


My Devil

My captor could be cruel. There were times I fought and times I gave in. I’m not extrovert but I’m hard, strong, but recently I struggled.

Part of me thought he was the devil.

He wasn’t, of course, he’s my husband and my choice. This is my choice. My desire.

His hard, rough hand pinched the back of my neck and brought me to my knees. I hadn’t heard him and wasn’t ready.

“Sir.” My shuddered breath left me before I could think.

He pulled my head back sharply. “I have a gift for you.”

With a blink, I frowned.


“Thank you, Sir. I apologise for not being ready.”

“I’m early, so I’ll forgive you. Let’s not start out with a quarrel, just yet.”

I was well practised enough not to smile. He let me go, and I waited.

“Service me.” His cruel mouth and bored tone usually sparked my desire, but not recently.

He sat on a chair, legs sprawled and undid his jacket. He looked so good in a suit. I crawled on all fours and knelt between his legs.


I pulled off my light shirt, naked under it.

He nodded, and I glided my hands up his thighs. It was hard not to admire him. He was gorgeous, but he could be arrogant and vicious.

“What is it, darling?”

I frowned and glanced up. “Nothing, Sir.”

He stilled my hands and leant forward, cupping my face. “Tell me.”

Tears burnt my eyes at his tenderness.

He gathered me up and onto his lap, cocooning me in love.

Pressing little kisses to me, he whispered. “My love, what is it? You’re safe, I swear it.”

I didn’t answer.

“You have to talk to me. I cannot do better if you do not.”

“You do better? But it’s me, I’m not good enough. I never do anything right.”

He set me back from him, and I turned away in shame.

“What would make you say that? Don’t know how much I love you? I need you, adore you. I’d do anything for you.”

I blinked. “You’re so good at this, I thought maybe I’m not doing well enough. I don’t know.”

“Then I am remiss. Entirely my fault. I have failed to give you what you need.” The pain in his face hurt me.

He pulled me back to his chest, the hard steady thump of his heart a beacon of safety. I curled up like a kitten. His kitten. With his strong powerful arms holding tight, my fear melted away.

“I need to make it up to you,” he murmured into my hair.

“No, I should be stronger.”

“And it’s my responsibility to enable you to have that. I’m sorry. Here, let me give you your gift.”

He set me on the chair, handing me my top, and I pulled it on. He gave me a paper bag. I expected underwear or a sex toy.

Inside was a little pottery figurine wrapped in paper. It was a small cat, patterned in gilt. It wasn’t valuable or particularly pretty, but a while ago, we’d been shopping, I saw it and told him about my nana who had one similar when I was a girl. I’d broken it when I was playing one day and had been so upset because I’d loved it. She hadn’t minded much.

I didn’t buy it, and we’d been in a hurry. He got so stressed and quiet sometimes I didn’t like to bother him with little things.

I started crying. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“Of course I do, I remember everything you say. I love listening to you. It’s an apology for being a bear recently, work has been stressful, but I shouldn’t let that affect how I treat you.” He tucked my hair behind my ear.

I ran my finger over the cat’s ear. Nana had passed away last year, and I missed her terribly. “This means so much to me.”

“Good, I’m relieved it was still in the shop. Come on. Let’s have some wine and a quiet night.”

“No, well, wine in a bit. Love me.”

“I do.”

“Show me, please.” I clutched his arm. I never really asked for things, but I had to be better at communicating.

He took the pottery and put it in the bag before gathering me up in his arms and kissing me.

He lay me on our bed and undressed. I always did it. I frowned, sitting up.

He smirked. “I think change is in order. You might be the sub and a masochist, but you’re my wife, and I’m responsible for your happiness and sexual gratification in this room, as we have arranged. Nothing is fixed, and things can change. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

I believed him. His sharp, wicked face and icy eyes always thrilled me. His command made me obey. Wild for him, he controlled and tamed our lust for each other.

“If,” he inched forward, naked, and knelt on the bed. “You don’t want me to spank you, restrain you, or punish you into behaving, I’ll stop.”

My eyes flickered. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He laughed, and it felt like I hadn’t heard that rich sound in forever.

Our eyes held for a second before he stripped me roughly. He pushed my skirt up and pulled off my knickers. I moaned and gripped the pillow behind me.

“I want to kiss you.”


He put his head between my legs and ate me. He held me down. I was never able to be still. He loved my squirming resistance until I was completely restrained so he could fuck me.

With a grunt, he knelt up, body looming and dick pointing straight at me.

“What do you want?”

This was always a problem for me. Asking for specific things, expressing my desires. He metered out everything I wanted or needed. He was right, things were changing.

Four years is a long time with no changes, and maybe it was time for renegotiation.

“What do you want?”

He blinked at the question. “I’m happy as we are, and happy for them to change.”

“I want to please you.”

Scowling, he bunched his lips. I wanted to kiss him. I did.

He met my eyes, curious, and I straddled his lap. He guided my hips down onto his cock.

He moved me carefully, as if for the first time. It wasn’t enough. We both knew it.

A wicked smile drew across his face.

“What?” I stilled.

“I’m going to tie you up and fuck you.”

“Oh thank god.”

He laughed, picking me up and setting me down, and fetched a long length rope.

Our bed is a ridiculous thing. He insisted on it. Four poster framed around the top, with a crossbar.

It’s very sturdy.

He threw the rope over and secured me in deft movements so my arms were raised and spread, and my knees just touched the mattress.


I panted, ready and needy.

“I think I should be kinder to you, but not easier on the sex.”


“Good. I love seeing you like this.”

“I love being like this.”

“So I see.” He teased a finger in my wetness and then sucked it. He manoeuvred me so I straddled him again and eased me back onto his cock.

Much better. With his hands gripping my waist again, fingers biting in, he fucked up, hard and fast, letting me come quickly.

The pull and burn of rope would mark me. His fingers would bruise me. I’d be stamped as his. I was.

His mouth caressed my neck as he jolted me hard, moaning as my pussy clamped around him. Hard pleasure broke over me, and he sought to control me as I rode it out.

Flushed and panting, I slumped.

“Fuck you feel good.” He pulled me off him and let me dangle. I hated the absence and whimpered.

Moving behind me, hands roving down my back and cupping my bottom, he kissed my shoulder as he angled my bottom out and squeezed.

“I’m going to hurt you.” He kept kissing me between words.

Still moaning and needy, I pressed my legs together.

Usually he’d punish me for that, but instead, he eased his hand between my thighs and cupped me. “No.”

I made a little noise at his sharp tone and spread my legs again.

“Good girl.” Getting off the bed, he went to the wardrobe and slid open the deep drawer where we kept our toys.

He came back with the spreader bar and secured my ankles. The metal was cold and drew my focus as I struggled in the rope bindings.


I panted, but he wasn’t finished.

He fixed my favourite ball gag in my mouth; my tongue pressed down, so saliva gathered straight away, and I couldn’t hold it in as I tried to swallow.

He smoothed my hair, gathering it. I loved pain and knew what was coming. “I love you.”

I blinked at the words before he pulled my hair and I braced. A sharp crack of pain seared my bottom. The switch stung, and my skin instantly throbbed.

“More than you can ever imagine.” He struck again.

Tears rolled down my face.

“You’re everything to me. I will give you anything you desire.” Each word was punctuated with an electric pain of a quick strike.

Hot skin burnt and pulsed. I felt the long thin welts rising. My body twitched.

“In future, you will tell me when I’m neglecting you because I’m not perfect. I’m taciturn. I’m grumpy. If I let what you need slip,” he struck across my thighs. I went still, floating on the pain he gave me. “Then you say. You are my sub. Mine. You will do this for me, or I will deny you this punishment.”

He stopped, and I sobbed.

Moving to my front, he tried to take the gag off. I shook my head, not ready. I had no words yet.

He wiped my face instead and moved behind me entering me quickly.

My skin was too sensitive as he jolted into me, pinching my breasts, growling as he thrust hard, body stinging, and the salt of our sweat burning in the places where he’d broken my skin.

My devil’s control never wavered as I went limp. My mind cleared of everything but sensation; a vibrating mix of pleasure and pain.

He took what I needed to give with abandon, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

I screamed through the gag, and he called out. I knew that sound; relentless and needy, and then he stilled.

He put his hand on my pussy, while he came, rubbing my clit as he moved in shallow thrusts. His coming was always so hot for me, and as my pulse clamoured, wounds sharp, I shuddered. He hummed, kissing my hair as he brought me close.

I barely breathed, the gag almost unbearable as I came with an exquisite intense release of tension, body jerking on him.

“That’s it, my love. My sweet girl. So good.”

It was, it was the best it’d ever been. He took off the gag and I heaved a breath.

Withdrawing, he undid the spreader and then rope.

He quietly cleaned me up and put aloe vera on my wounds when he’d washed me down. The cool gel dried quickly, soothing me as ever.

“I broke your skin this time. Was I too hard?”

His voice in the quiet brought me around. I swallowed thickly, face in the pillow. “No.”

I reached for him, and he came to me. The care in the moments afterwards is the sweetest love. That’s what had been missing; gentleness to balance us. I sighed as he held me, safe in the beat of his slow and even heart. The beacon.

He’s my home, even if he’s a devil, and one I would take better control of.


Mutual Desire

Lance came out of the shower naked, rubbing his hair dry. My mouth watered and I stared. He was gorgeous.

“What?” He tossed down the towel, landing it in the hamper.

“Just looking.”

He tried to hide his smile as he blushed a little and looked through the drawer I’d given him.

“Come here.”

He stood in front of where I sat on the edge of the bed in a light robe, and he lowered his eyes.

He whispered a breath, expelling it as I ran my hand down his chest.

Two months since we got together, and I still couldn’t believe it.

He got hard, it twitched and enlarged until it stood straight. All the while, Lance balled his fists.

I glanced up and saw the desperate need already in his face. I had difficulty keeping up. Me. He was a horny fuck, and I loved it.

“No.” I leant back, admiring him.


“I have things in store for you.”

He bit his lip. I laughed.

He thought we were going out.

“I’m getting dressed.” Standing, I passed his glasses.

He frowned as he put them on, but I kissed his lips and went out with a smile to dress in my little spare room.

I sprayed the inside of the dress with lube, just like the woman in the shop advised me and slipped it on. The black latex was short, and I wore nothing else. It was backless and the halterneck split all the way down my cleavage, leaving very little to the imagination. I started sweating immediately. I wore light makeup and my hair in a ponytail. Slipping my patent heels on, I ferreted out the black paper bag with my gifts for Lance.

The lifestyle was a serious part of him, but I wasn’t sure if he’d want the gift, though I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. His nickname was pet, so might as well see what happened.

He had his back to me as he put his shirt on, and I stood right behind him.

“Do you want to play?” I kissed his back,  my hands wandering down his chest to his jeans. He moaned and leant his head back. That moan was my favourite sound.

“Will you give me control?” I opened his fly.

“Yes, please.”

“Mine,” I whispered.


I massaged his crotch before stepping back. He did a double take when he turned, blinked, swallowed loudly and went red.


His eyebrows moved a lot and he opened and closed his mouth.

“Take a breath.”

He did. “You look…”

“Don’t like it?”

“Love. Love.”

“Good.” I stood in front of him and ran my hand down his chest, happy he’d not done his shirt up. “We aren’t going out.”

“Oh?” His eyes fixed on my cleavage.

“No. I’m going to do things to you.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He said so it naturally, and I thought it’d be weird but it turned me on.

“Good boy, knees.” I reached up and pushed him down by the head.

He obeyed and with his hands gripping my thighs and kept his eyes down.

“I bought you a gift. Look.”

Dragging his eyes up, they met mine, and I was lost. He was everything to me. Peeling back the layers of him, he was chatty and funny and affectionate when I expected reserve and quiet. The chosen get to see him truly. He chose me.

Swallowing, I reached into the bag and pulled it out. A thick leather collar on a chain.

His eyes widened. “Fuck.”

“I know you said pet, but I wasn’t entirely sure.”

“Yes.” He gripped me a bit tighter and breath came sharp.

The moment was important, a bond between us that was more than sex, it was an emotional and physical bond.

I buckled the stiff leather, leaving it loose until he prompted me to do it tighter. When it was done, his eyes were closed and lips parted.

Tipping his chin back, I leant down to him and pecked his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Our mouths hovered close, tension thick.

“There are things we’ve talked about, and I want to do them to you.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I was ready. We’d played, and he instructed me. I read and learnt everything I could. But now, it was time for him to submit to me, and not guide me. He needed it, and I came to understand it.

He was mine.

Easing the chain through my fingers, he watched, and I pulled him to his feet.

I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, caressing him, admiring every inch of his body.

Pushing his jeans and underwear down, exposing him, I hummed and eased everything off.

“I intend to do things to your arse. Do you need a moment?”

“No, I’m ready Mistress.”

“Are you? No wonder you spend so long in the shower.” I tutted.

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“Are you? Will you let me use you to make up for it?”

He licked his lips as his cock bounced against me.

“Yes please.”


“Sorry, Mistress.” He swallowed.


I urged him down onto his back and reaching for the black bag, I pulled out velcro cuffs. The woman in the shop said they were good for beginners. I could get him out easy enough.

I slid a wrist into the loop, tightening it, pulled the length under his back, and secured his other wrist. His arms hitched under his back a little.


“Yes, Mistress.”


He suppressed a smile. I did the same to his feet and secured them to the footboard and taking his lead, I straddled him, the nonexistent skirt of the dress rising up.

“I can’t take it.” He squirmed.

I put my palm on his chest, the thud of his heart pounded. “Breathe, and I’ll let you out.”


“What is it?”

“I’m too aroused.” He closed his eyes, straining up.

“Let’s make it better then.”

Pulling his bottom lip into my mouth, he hummed. His glasses weren’t straight. I set them right and pecked his lips.

Kissing and working down his body, he shook and the desperate noises he made aroused me too.

My mouth hovered, open lips, teeth bared. He watched, desperate.

But I sat up, and he grunted, straining at the restraints.

From the bag, I pulled out lube, setting it on his stomach. A new butt plug next to it and then a fleshlight.

“Mistress, what’s that?”

I slapped his thigh, and he hissed. Opening it, I read the instructions and wiped everything down with a sanitary wipe before beginning.

Adjusting the ankle ties, I shifted his bottom over, so his lower half lay to the side, twisting him. I nipped his bottom. He tensed. Pulling one cheek up, I fingered his rim, and he tried to push onto my finger.

“Be still.” I swatted him.

He loved that too much for it to be a deterrent.

“If you don’t be good, I won’t bite you later,” I murmured, coating the plug in lube.

“Sorry, Mistress.”

I nudged it into him and slid it all the way, slowly inching it in. The wide lip had a detachable vibrator and I switched it on to a low pulse.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Yes, darling. But first, we play.”

He laughed and moaned.

“You like it?”

“Thank you, Mistress, it feels so good.”

He struggled with every pulse, and I watched half draped over him.

“Please touch me.”

With a pleased grin at his words, I shifted to his front and ran my hands over his body before grabbing the accessories.

Lubing my hand, I coated his cock, readying him for the fleshlight.

“When you’re close, you must tell me.”

He hummed, twitching as I ran my hand up and down his length. I nudged the tight toy over the head and he cried out.

He lifted his shoulders, and with my free hand, I grabbed the lead.

“You will lie as I left you, or I will secure you so you can’t move at all.”

My sharp voice brought him short and he stilled, clenched and panting as I pulled and pushed on the fleshlight.

I lived for the desperate sounds he made, begging for more.

He grew louder. “Please, I’m going to come.” Tense and rough.

I pulled the fleshlight off and squeezed the base of his cock and he went still.

“No, no, oh fuck let me come.”

“Poor pet, did you think I’d be nice to you?”

He knew I’d do it. Hated it. Loved it.

I teased the plug in his bottom for a bit, making him cry out. His cock softened a little, and I started again.

The rumble of need from him was delicious as I squeezed the fleshlight down his cock.

Teasing the head, he twitched, before working the whole length. I watched his face.

Mouth contorted, I wasn’t sure it was pleasure or pain he felt. Often the same to him, I drew the line.

“Yes, yes.” The sound drew out and I couldn’t deny him. He needed it. I needed it.

He flushed as he came. I held still for a second, his body and cock straining with each pulse of orgasm.

I moved the toy up and down and he swore and shuddered.

The plug still buzzed in the quiet.

Pulling it off, I let the cum drip out of it onto his cock.

“Look at you. Dirty pet. Unable to control yourself. Shameful.”

“Sorry, Mistress,” he panted.

“By the time I’m finished, you will be.”

He couldn’t stop the smirk. He softened as I tossed the fleshlight down and eased his hips back over. Carefully pulling his legs flat, I secured him firmly and caught up his lead.

His eyes flickered with every buzz from the plug.

I moved up and sat on his face. He loved it. I sat firmly and ground into his tongue before lifting up and letting him breathe. He ate me while I circled my hips. I came with hard and shuddering wet pleasure, and lifting away, he moaned, reaching for my pussy.

I left his face wet, licking his lips, and body tensed.

I ground up and down his length when I straddled him. He moaned, hardening under me, and it was a pained sound. My pet looked so uncomfortable.


“Don’t stop.” The need was almost vicious.

I couldn’t stop grinding on his cock until I came again, while he watched. As my hips bucked, we cried out together.

“Mistress.” He struggled again, sweat beading on his forehead. Eyes pinched.

“What is it, my love?”

“I need you, my love, Mistress, sorry.”

It’s impossible not to give him anything he wants. He shook, panting and muscles tensed. Crawling over him, he watched, jaw ticking.

I pulled the chain from his collar lightly, and he gave to me, safe and relaxed again.

“There, there, pet. I have you,” I whispered with my mouth hovering over a nipple.

I bit down as I slid onto his cock. His hips reached up to me, and he hissed. I rode him easy and slow, and he let me, just his whispered need between our panting.

I bit all over his chest, leaving marks, then sucking and kissing the sore skin.

He arched into every graze of teeth. He drove me wild.

Quiet boys are the dirtiest, I swear it. I fucked him, drugged and desperate for every pull of pleasure I could draw from him, but I still held control as I came. Glorious and loud.

I writhed and bounced, and through his pained face, he smiled, watching me as I came again. He followed, arching up to me, giving to me. I collapsed over him and pulled at the velcro on his wrists, and as squirmed, I reached around, and found the clicker, turning the vibration off. He relaxed with a deep groan, pulling his hands free and holding me to his chest.

Lance kissed me, hands in my hair. “I love you, there are no words for it.”

I hummed, boneless.

I kept hold of his lead as he kept me nestled over his chest. We’d clean up in a second, but the moment washed over us. So perfect.

Our sex adventures became more intense, and I had to temper this desire before we burnt out. But as he stroked my back, delicate and sweet again, my love only grew. Our bond holding us closer.

“Did I do okay?”

“You’re perfect, but I think you went easy on me.”

“Hmm.” I nuzzled him, but the latex sticky and all I wanted was his skin on me.

“Did you enjoy it?”

I grinned at the uncertainty in his question. “I could never go back because this is who I am. What I want. Thank you for giving me this.”

He held me a little tighter but didn’t speak.

I nipped his chest. “Right. Clean up your Mistress.”

“Yes, anything for you.”



I watched from the doorway. Edan grunted with each lift; his muscles taut, and sweat rolled down his body. He only wore sweats, and they hung low. Big arms clenched with another heave of weights.

Our home multi gym was an ugly thing and took up half of our spare room. The other half was my office, and at least I had my back to that monstrosity when I worked. Though, I couldn’t complain at the current view.

He’d been in an accident, and rehab had been tough. It changed him. He wanted to be fitter and healthier. Stronger.

I loved him before and loved him now, and I’d still love him any way he looked. He set the weights down and cracked his neck before doing some push-ups. Up down, up down. It was hypnotic.

He grunted. Every grunt made me clench. I needed to fuck him. Well, that wasn’t quite how it worked, but yes I needed him.

Edan fell onto his back, sweat glistened on his skin, and he panted. “I know you’re there.”


“Get in here.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, and he got to his feet.

We stared at each other for a minute. I tried to keep the smile off my face. Edan raised his brow.

Over the years, we’d developed this language, and the smallest expressions told us what we felt in a dance that we enjoyed over and over again.

He stepped close, and I breathed in the scent of fresh sweat. I got wet. He lifted my chin with his finger in question. A small, smooth gesture that anyone that wasn’t us wouldn’t see.

Play or not. We didn’t need the words. My answer was either lowered eyes, in which I was obedient, or I’d stare him out in defiance. Then I’d be punished. The other option that I rarely used was to step away.

“It’s rude to watch people.” His glittering black eyes caught the sun, and there was a touch of maroon and amber in them. I sighed. I was horny as fuck and grinned wickedly.

He smirked. With his other hand, he ran the back of it up my arm to the nape of my neck, and took my ponytail, pulling back on it slowly. His face masked with absolute control, but his eyes were fire. “Knees.”

I dodged away, and he caught me up from behind, slamming me into him, and my breath left me. His dick, hard already, pressed into my arse cheek. The damp heat from him bled through my clothing, and he panted into my skin. My heart pounded at the rush of desire and of letting him control me.

He kissed my neck, sucking and licking my shoulder, and eased down the straps of my top.

I tried to squirm.

He jolted me back to him. “Bad girls get tied up and hurt. Do what you’re fucking told.”

“Make me.” I laughed.

He spun me around and pushed me down into the seat in of the gym with one hand on my heart and tore at my top.


He pressed down. “Obey.”

“No.” I stared at him. He straddled my lap so I couldn’t move, and I fought him ripping my top and bra off. He paused and pinched the nape of my neck. This was a ‘stop’ we halted whenever he did it to check in, and it was second nature to us.

I went still, looking up at him. “Yes?” I panted.

“Green?” He ran his thumb across my cheek with a little smile on his face.

“Green.” I kissed his finger as he brushed my lip.

Edan let go of my neck, and I struggled again. He revelled in it as much as me. My heart pounded, and I started sweating. I bucked as he tied one hand to the bar at my side, and then the other with bits of my bra.

He got off and on the other side of the room, grabbed metal cuffs from the storage cupboard. This wasn’t our first game.

I pulled at the makeshift restraints.

“I know you. You’ll fight until you’re free.” He cuffed me, the cold metal hard on my skin, and I struggled, savouring my body being pulled while he removed the remnants of my clothes. I was soaked and pulsing. I wanted to come so much.

There’s nothing quite like losing to him.

“You think you know what you’re getting, well you don’t. I’m not playing nice.”

Oh, wonderful. I squirmed.

He yanked my bottoms off and tossed them aside. He picked up a skipping rope he used sometimes and tied my thigh to the nearest bar, and then looped it under, securing my other thigh. Legs stretched wide, I couldn’t move and bit my lip, trying not to fight too much.

He knelt in between my legs, eyes on my pussy. “So wet.” He parted my lips with his thumbs.

I moaned.

“You need a lesson. But if I touch you, you’ll come. I’m not giving you anything.”

I fought, and he laughed as he pushed his sweats down. Fucker wanted me to beg and play nice, but I wouldn’t.

Naked, he stood over me, that familiar lovely cock pointing in my face.

“You’re not going to touch it. I’m not making you do anything because you love it too much.”

Narrowing my eyes, I puffed out my breath, trying to dislodge a clump of hair that worked loose.

He smoothed it out of my face, and I leant into his touch.


He stroked his cock with one hand and put his hand between my legs, and I cried out, but he only coated his hand with my wetness and covered his shaft in it. I kept my eyes on his dick as he stood right between my legs, the head only inches from my face. My lips parted.

“Ah-ah.” Picking up my bottoms, he took my knickers, shoved them in my mouth. I fought at the fabric cramming my mouth, but he held me firm and levelled an impatient look at me. I was really pushing his buttons, but he started wanking again while I cried out around my knickers, pulling on the cuffs.

Gradually I stopped fighting and became transfixed by his moaning and the action of his fist. He gripped the metal crossbar above me, so he imposed. His muscles tensed and relaxed. His breathing quickened again.

He bit his lip, humming with each pant. I ground my hips, my own orgasm already deep in me, and my nerves on fire for him.

Edan slowed his hand, eyes hard on me as I looked up. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck. My gaze flickered down to the movement of his body; energy transferred from his lust, up through the repetitive motion of his arm, and the power that spread through the rest of him.

Tense, relax, slower, speed, and drawing every second out.

His strong thighs twitched. Letting go of the bar, he dived his hand between my thighs, and I tried to ride the fingers gathering wetness as it seeped out of me.

He coated his cock again, stroking quicker, his fingers working over the hard and red shaft.

Opening his mouth with desperate breath, he gripped my head. He wanked with his cock right up close, urgency in his arm and grip on me. I wanted that dick inside me so much, and I enjoyed every sensation. The heat of his sweating body, his scent, the noises he made, and my head pulled back in his grasp rendered me compliant.

I called out through the fabric in my mouth, I breathed hard through my nose, eyes down on the furious movement of my husband’s hand.

“Fuck.” His ragged breath and tensed abs let me know he was close.

My clit throbbed harder, heat gathered.

He pointed his cock down, and he came, hot splashes of cum caught my tits and chest. I moaned with him.

He kept stroking, enjoying it with a smile, and let go of my head, bracing his arms above me. “Hell of a workout. You going to be good? I’ll make you come, nice and hard.”

I nodded. He knelt and took the lacey knickers from my mouth. I drew a breath.

“Don’t move. Not a muscle.”

“Yes, sir.” I needed to come so much I’d have done anything.

He ran his fingers through the cum on my skin, massaging it into my nipples, pinching and pulling. I twitched and cried out.


I opened my mouth, and he glided his fingers in, and I sucked the tangy cum and under it the taste of his sweat and cock. I hummed. He was delicious.

“Good girl.”

He pushed his fingers right back in my mouth and with his other hand, eased two fingers inside me, and angled his arm to catch my clit with his thumb.

He crooked his fingers up and raised his brows.


Letting my breath go I slow blinked yes. With a sneering smile, the cocky bastard finger fucked me hard and fast.

I wanted to struggle, scream, bite, and ride his hand.

I didn’t. I obeyed.

My eyes fluttered as he leant close. “You’re so close.”

I made a low noise, and he laughed and stopped. My body shook. He curled his fingers inside, searching deeper and slid another finger in.

The closeness ebbed, and he teased, building me back up slowly. Pleasure inched higher as he leant his face against mine, and his hair dampened with sweat brushed my skin.

His lips met my skin, and he worked down, taking my nipple in his mouth, the brush of teeth set me off, and I came. Hard. My hips rolled on his fingers with each hard wave of orgasm. Then my body went of its own volition. I trashed, pulling on the cuffs and rope. I kept going and couldn’t stop.

“Oh baby, look at you.” His breath on my sensitive wet nipple caught my breath.

I couldn’t speak, just kept moving and moving as my orgasm faded. My head fell forward, and I was utterly spent.

Releasing the cuffs, my arms flopped down, and Edan undid the rope, kissing my wrists and inside of my thighs. I moaned.

“Come on. You’re such a good girl.” He lifted me up in his arms, cradling me close. With my head resting on his neck, he took me to bed.

Edan took care of me, as he always did, and when he’d showered, he held me with love, as always.