Under His Thumb

The lights were dimmed, a group of friends were watching a film at Chris' house, Polly was feeling sleepy and had curled up on the sofa next to him.  She was using the darkness as a bit of an excuse to snuggle towards him, hoping she could blame her semi-consciousness if he pulled away.  The others were joking about some gory scene, Chris joined in, but Polly felt his hand casually rest on her head and tried to keep breathing normally.  Time started to move strangely, she could hear the conversation, the film dialogue, but it seemed very far away and her whole attention narrowed to the slight weight of his touch as he stroked her hair.  She felt like his pet, an object of affection but no great importance.

The others were getting drunk, arguing jovially about something, and they wouldn't have noticed as his hand moved over her face, tracing the shape of her eyes, nose, and finally her lips.  His fingers gently held her jaw as his thumb brushed her mouth, achingly slow and soft.  Polly parted her lips helplessly, desperate for him to continue, slightly embarrassed by how much she wanted this.  His thumb slid inside, she tried to lick it erotically, suggestively, but he pulled it out, annoyed, and tapped her mouth firmly in chastisement.  

After a few moments, Chris slipped into her again, and she fell into the rhythm he set, letting her tongue follow his lead.  It was a little like a kiss, but of course with all the associations of thumb-sucking, she started to feel safe, peaceful, protected.  The movement slowed, Chris caught Polly's eye and nodded upwards.  She assumed he wanted her to go upstairs and left the room in a daze.

She hesitated on the landing, then found his room and stood in the dark, not knowing what to do with herself.  After what seemed like too long, the door opened, Chris turned on the light and chuckled as he saw her awkwardly lurking there.  Neither of them spoke, and eventually he moved towards her, returning his thumb to her mouth.  As he stared hungrily into her eyes she felt her thoughts dissolving, her submission growing.

Chris pulled her waistband out and slid his other hand into her knickers, echoing the pace and movements from above.  There seemed to be an energy growing and pulling right through her.  She felt as if he was rubbing her away, and the more she disappeared, the more aroused she got.  Just as it seemed too much to bear, he gave one last, firm press on her clitoris and she lost herself completely.

Snow Drift

Soft, fuzzy flakes drift down all around. It makes my thoughts lazy, spiralling slowly down, merging into one another until everything is cotton-wool. I watch for hours, all sense of time lost in the hush.  This room is warm and protected, all the more so because of the cold outside. It makes me lethargic, disinclined to move.

I lay back onto you, my ear on your chest, hearing your heart beating steadily.  It fills my head, a womb-like thrumming, hypnotising me more with each dull boom.  I could stay like this forever, wrapped up in you, hidden from the outside world.  Everything stops, we're outside time, free to float, and drift, and fall.

Let me win

My head was on my arms on the table and I groaned a little.

"What's up now?" He asked. We'd ended up last of our group in the pub, and he was probably just worried I'd drunk too much and he'd have to help me outside to puke.

"Nothing, just men doing my head in." I replied, and sat up to take a sip of water.

He tutted. "I don't know why you let them hurt you like this, I know you're into all that, but..."

I stopped him. "Chance'd be a fine thing!  He's not doing anything to hurt me, that's the problem!"

He frowned at me. "Oh, I don't want to know this..."

I didn't listen. "I'm just... bored. I can't get on with my life because I'm craving some nastiness, some darkness..."

"Can't you just, I don't know, fuck yourself up a bit?"

"What do you think I'm doing now?" We stared at each other a little too long. Eventually I looked away and broke the silence, "It's not about pain, anyway. It's just a means to an end."

"So what is it about?"

I sighed, and declared the obvious. "Control."

He considered this for a while then stood up. "I need another drink."



There was a pint on the table in front of me. "Oh, I don't know, I think I've -"

"Drink." His tone was strange, I had the glass to my lips before I knew what I was doing. "Do you want to be my pet?" He continued casually.

I spluttered and went red. "Wh- What do you mean?"

"I was just wondering if that was what all this was about, if you were trying to get me to... take charge." He sipped his drink and looked at me with an odd expression.

"No, God, no, sorry..." I was thrown. I'd been flirting with him recently, but I didn't think it was going anywhere. Still... When he'd asked... I'd felt something like... joy?

I looked down at the table, he was idly drawing something in some spilt beer, something like a zigzag? A circle? I went cold. It was a spiral. I looked up and he met my gaze. "Drink," he said again. I complied.

Somehow I managed to speak. "I'm not, you know... I'm not trying to get off with you.

He laughed. "I should hope not, I don't find you very attractive" I was cut, his words stabbing into me like hot blunt knives. I felt tears in my eyes. His smile was familiar and unsettling at the same time. "Shh, pet, what's wrong? I thought you liked some emotional pain, a little psychological torture?"

Things seemed to be spinning wildly. "What's going on?" I whispered shakily.

"Same as always, we're just hanging out, fucking with each other's heads, I was just suggesting... that sometimes... you can let me win..."

I rushed outside into the cool night air, and retched up my guts on the pavement.