Tea with no sympathy

1. She is not stupid. Just in a bratty mood. She drops a tea bag into a mug and lets the water go off the boil before pouring. I don’t even taste it. Just grab her hair and bend her over the counter. The flat of my hand makes hard and fast contact with her bare arse again, and again. I don’t stop until she safe words.Read More »

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Room 405

The following story was inspired by the amazing photography of submiss34f.  I encourage you to visit her blog to see why.

 

She had never been this blatant before. Oh there had been texts. For as long as I had known her we had played the game of flirting with words. After meeting at that first party we kept in contact and soon discovered probing questions, rather than role-play, made us both wet.

Do you touch yourself? How? What do you use? When did you start? Are you doing it now?

In public we were nodding acquaintances. Occasionally meeting when our work spheres collided. We would shake hands. Have brief conversations about the economy. Share eye contact for slightly too long. Then away again and that cruel tension of waiting to see who would crack first. A chime from the phone. A message.

I got wet when you brushed my hand. I’m undressing you in my head right now. You’re making me want to touch myself. I used to use a hairbrush…I still have it.

But it had always been words. Never pictures or actions. The conference had been as dull as ditch water making the following brief meeting at the bar all the more electric. Forcing me to remain outwardly calm and professional as we sipped our drinks and made small talk. Back in my hotel room the chime came quicker than usual. A photo. Her torso. An open book face down over her cunt. A hand snaking down beneath the book. She was….oh God. My mouth suddenly went dry. My sex quite the opposite. Another text.

Room 405.Read More »

True Apothecary

[Content warning: Attempted suicide]

He lowered the vial and grimaced at it’s bitter aftertaste. No sweetness in death then. Only the hope that Lethe would soon take all memory of his beloved Juliet away. That it’s waters would erase the sight of her cold, lifeless body. The vial was getting heavier. He stared stupidly at his own hand as it refused to rise again to his lips and instead fell downward, seeming to drag his body with it. The tombs floor was cold against cheek. Movement became impossible. His lids remained half open and he found himself studying the dust motes dancing in the dim candle light. Gradually they slowed as did his heart until the pause between beats seemed to stretch for minutes, then hours and the motes hung motionless above him as a testament to times absence. He was a speck of light himself. Floating in darkness. Calm. Clear. Weightless. Unburdened.Read More »

Masks

The three of them tumbled into the guest bedroom preceded by wine scented giggles. He spotted the masks lying in a neat row across the eiderdown. They gave off a metallic gleam and looked like recently discovered sunken treasure.

“Oh now these are beautiful! Who arranged this?”

“It was her idea. This one is yours”.

She fastened the bronze dog mask over his face and stood back to admire the intricately fashioned canine features. The small snout. The grinning mouth. She reached forward and donned the gold hawk mask.

Of course.

The Hawk told him in no uncertain terms that he’d better strip. “..and be quick about it”.

He hastily complied and soon stood naked before them both. The Hawk nodded in satisfaction. Admiring his pale, slightly freckled skin, neatly trimmed beard, raven hair. She turned to look at the other woman.

“Get him ready would you my dear”.

“It would be my pleasure”.

She knelt before him as he said with some puzzlement, “Why isn’t she wearing a Ohhhhh…”.

And he continued to sigh and exclaim as her warm mouth sucked steadily on his rapidly hardening cock. She worked him well. Slowly and confidently sliding back and forth while her tongue made tantalising circles on his sensitive flesh. The Hawk’s smile was masked by gilded beak and shining feathered crown. She disrobed and took a benevolent pose, watching as her friend pleasured the dog.

When his face flushed, his breathing became ragged and he looked about ready to come the Hawk tapped her on the shoulder and bade her put on the last mask. He sighed quietly in frustration as she pulled slowly away from him, (sucking to the very last), leaving his prick stiff and wanting. He watched her put on the cat mask, and marvelled at the silver contours that made up the satisfied smile, the crystalline whiskers. The Cat needed no prompting and undressed with enthusiasm then stretched and sprawled on the bed. The Hawk placed a firm hand onto the dogs shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to reciprocate like a gentleman?”

He immediately removed his mask, crawled onto the bed and began to kiss the Cat starting at her knee, then moving upwards and across her thigh until he reached her already moist lips. There he dallied for a moment before forcefully plunging his tongue into her. She squealed and drummed her feet against the duvet. Then as he began to lap at her sex in earnest she closed her thighs tightly around his head as if frighted he would stop.

Again the Hawks smile was masked but it was detectable in her voice.

“Don’t forget to let him breathe my darling”.

The Hawk allowed herself a few moments to watch the Cats mounting pleasure then reached under the bed for a lacquered box. Normally at this point she might take time to admire the box’s decoration. Exquisitely detailed Shunga depicting male and female in various positions and activities. Some languid. Some energetic. Some frankly impossible. But not today. Today she was impatient to join her friends and so snapped open the box and removed her strap-on. She fastened it with practised ease and tightened it until the base was pressed deliciously against her clit. The Cat caught her gaze and her mischievous wink was just barely visible through the silver eye hole. While the dog remained busy pleasuring her the Cat reached under a pillow for some lube then reached across to the Hawk and after poring a generous amount onto her palm began to lubricate the Hawks newly attached cock. Stroking and tugging. Purposely stimulating the Hawks clit as she worked the glistening gel across every inch. Finally satisfied with the Cats work the Hawk slapped the dog hard on the bottom leaving a red, palm shaped mark and causing him to gasp and jerk his head away. She deftly slipped his mask back on for him and chuckled as the Cat sighed and made a face.

“Now then my love don’t pout it doesn’t become you”.

“But I was just getting into that!”

The Hawk had unsealed a condom and was rolling it onto his penis while his eyes widened at the sight of the strap-on.

“Now then..”, said the Hawk and briskly guided him till his cock was inches away from her friends cunt. She grasped his hair tightly and brought her mouth close to his ear.

“…fuck her good”.Read More »

D.I.Y.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what she looked like. A woman in her thirties lying face down on a rose print duvet. Wrists and ankles cuffed and chained to a ring leaving her hogtied. A vibrator strapped to her thigh, it’s head pressed hard against her cunt. What must she look like? A mess. A dripping shaking slutty mess who had already come twice and was building up to a third.Read More »

Under

You are so under now. So conditioned that all I have to say is..

“Cuffs”.

You can feel a coldness circling your wrists. You test your will and find yourself unable to move them more than a centimetre.

“Ankles”.

You can feel the rope. It’s not there but you can feel it biting into your skin. Dragging your legs wide apart. Much wider than is comfortable. Oh god, you think, is he going to say…

“My tongue”.

….and your clit is pulsing. Reacting to a ghostlike pressure.

Time passes. Minutes? Hours? Your whole body is shaking, on the edge, desperate, head jerking from side to side, needing to moan and scream but with no permission to do so. One word from me and you get release. One word. Say it. Please! PLEASE!

I smile and begin to turn away…

Tiptoe (a different perspective)

“Hands clasped behind your back!”

He almost jumped at my barked order and obeyed quickly. I took a moment to enjoy the sight of his flesh, stripped bare of clothes and decorated with a patina of goose pimples from the cold. The stone floor was probably being particularly cruel to his naked feet right now. This would get worse. When I brought out my favourite toy his eyes widened slightly. Without any preamble I brought it between his legs, grabbed the head of his flaccid cock and gripped it firmly against the Hitachi. When I switched it on his whole body jerked. I’d purposelessly chosen a high setting and it would be too much for his sensitive cock. Nevertheless despite the sudden pain he responded as I knew he would.

Read More »