Here Kitty

She felt feral, raw, they were making out in an alley, behind the dustbins, and she felt like a wild and abandoned creature, finding a like minded soul to sing at the moon with. He was so fucking beautiful, angular and otherworldly, their sharp claws and pointed teeth had called out to each other invisibly, under the veneer of civilisation, and now the gloves were off.

He bit her neck gently, hand scratching lightly up and down her bare arms. He was toying with her like a cat with a mouse. It made her shiver and bare her teeth.

She started to claw at him too, but he pulled away suddenly and tapped her on the nose. "Bad kitty!"

She was confused, but felt a new kind of arousal flare up. It wasn't anything she could really get upset by, just a silly little joke, but she felt put down, told off, and she liked it more than she thought she would.

"There, that's better isn't it?" He stroked her under her chin and with every touch she seemed to feel more of her usual thoughts fade away, to be replaced by something instinctual, yet dainty and feminine. Her claws receded, she purred inside, subdued and happy.

He blinked slowly at her, and she felt herself copy him, feeling relaxed and safe as if it was time to curl up in front of the fire.

"Good kitty, such a pretty little kitty-cat, who wants a treat then?"

She nodded at him without really knowing what he was offering. She was his pet now, and trusted his plans for her.

He unzipped his flies and pushed on her shoulders. "Down, kitty, be nice and maybe you'll get some cream."

As she sucked his cock, the taste and feel made her head buzz like catnip, she felt a low vibration start in her throat and buzz through him. She hoped it would make him happy with her.

Pedals

I'm at a gig on my own, as is often the way, but I enjoy being surrounded by people all as caught up in the music as I am. The guitars are heavy and deep, throbbing through me, making me feel connected to something powerful. I smile like an animal, wired on adrenaline, and look around for someone to feed off.

That one, perfect, crushed up to the stage, eyes wide as he stares at the band in devotion. Later he'll be looking at me like that. I push closer to him, to check him out in more detail. Shoulder length dark hair, pale eyes, tight black clothes, well washed tshirt of the band we're watching. Beautiful. He's skinny as a rake, muscled in a wiry way, but he still looks fragile somehow, as if I could break him with a harsh word.

I press against him in the encore, breathing on his neck a little. He doesn't notice at first, but after a while I catch him sneaking glances behind him. There's fear and hope in his eyes and it makes my desire flare to think of bending him to my will.

As everyone claps I lean forward "You're coming home with me." It's somewhere between a command and a statement. He turns round to answer, but can't seem to make the words come. As people start leaving we stand there, in a bubble of my making as if time has stopped. He's glowing and alive and I want to tear him to pieces.

He seems to realise there's nothing else for it and just nods cautiously. My lips curl and my nostrils flare. I can always pick the ones that will submit easily, lets just see if he can entertain me as well.

I walk off and he follows me to my car, he looks like a little boy in the front seat, lost and confused. It reminds me that I need to do something. "Give me your wallet." I demand. He breathes in sharply, looks scared and my clit starts to twitch. "I'm not going to rob you, pretty thing, just hand it over."

I rifle through it, get his name, that he's 19 and a student, lives in the area, so if I need to chuck him out he can walk home. All fine. I hand it back to him and drive off. He keeps his eyes on my legs, my short skirt has ridden up and my black stockings are showing. Silly boy, he should be watching where we're going.

I lead him into my house, pour him a drink, put on some music he'll like, and sit in my chair. He stands there awkwardly. "Sit down, honey, just relax," I purr.

He perches on a seat opposite me, sipping nervously at his glass, watching me with that cute deer in the headlights look.

Can he actually speak? "So, sweetie, what are you thinking?"

He gulps, "Uh, look this kind of thing doesn't happen to me, I'm a bit out of my depth."

"But you want to be here."

"Oh yes! You're really hot and..."

"And?"

He looks down at the ground, "... and you like the kind of music I like..."

It's like a magic key to unlock boys like him, I'm a fantasy come true and they can't think straight, just drift into my trap, helplessly, willingly. "Mmm, yes I do, do you know what I really like about it?" He shakes his head gently.

I smile and continue, making my voice resonant and seductive. "The way it just floats around your head... so slow and overpowering... warm and fuzzy... filling up all the gaps in your head..."

I carry on like this for a while, watching him carefully, until his eyelids start to droop and he's looking glazed and vulnerable. He's mine.

I put my glass down, his eyes follow the roll of my hips as I walk over to him. I take his drink out of his hand, put my finger under his chin and lift his face to look up at mine. "Who's a sleepy little boy, then?"

He smiles weakly, "Me, miss,"

"Yes, you are, sleepy and relaxed and turned on." I can see the bulge in his skinny jeans.

He nods, slightly ashamed.

"Shh, it's OK, pretty thing, I'm aroused too, you can probably smell me from there, can't you?" I lifted up my skirt with unhurried smoothness. He gasps as he sees I'm not wearing any panties. I stay there for a few endless heartbeats, let him drink in my smell, entranced by the sight of my beautiful pussy, and of course the spiral tattoo just above it.

"Lick me," I whisper in that special voice that must be obeyed.

He breathes faster and leans forward, his pointed pink tongue darting out to service me. I let my skirt fall over his head and hold onto his shoulders, guiding his movements to my requirements. He's very good at this, I grind my hips onto his face, congratulating myself on my choice.

"Good boy, ahhh, such a good boy, you're doing so well, you're really pleasing me..." every affirmation making him moan in pleasure into me, the vibrations buzzing against me, making me shake with desire. "Make me come, you little slut, make me come on your face, ahhhh!"

He probably can't breathe, but he doesn't complain, just waits for me to finish and pull away from him. Bless him. I sit down on his lap, feeling his erection push against my still sensitive pussy.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" I ask kindly.

"Yes please, miss," he replies cautiously, looking up at me, still a little dazed. My heart goes out to him, such pure and simple awe on his face. Completely in my hands. Awaiting my decision.

"Do you play guitar, boy?"

"Y-yes, miss."

"Good," I unzip his trousers, pull out his thick cock, and slide myself down on top of it. "Now, if you can talk about your pedals and how you use them until I come again, I might let you come as well."

He swallows hard, trying not to show he thinks I'm crazy. "Um, Ok... I've got a vintage Univox Superfuzz... oh, god...."

"mmm.... very good, boy, keep going," He's pretty damn skilled at this too, I pump onto him and enjoy the crosseyed look he gets as he tries to think about what to say. He's got a 50-50 chance of getting to come tonight, I think.

The Sea

The night had been a blur, I was caught between trying to impress his friends, and laughing inside at how crazy this all was. As if anyone was going to believe I fitted in here, even scrubbed up, in a nice frock and with hair done perfectly by a disapproving hairdresser, there was still something of the gutter about me. Something that wanted to stuff my pockets with food from the buffet to eat later on the bus.

Still, I'd held my own, my wit helping me out of my lack of knowledge about business matters and society gossip. Some of his friends had even tried flirting with me, although I just put them down with a sharp comeback and a snooty look. He paid me enough attention to be protective, but not enough to make me feel entirely comfortable. There was still an edge of fear, despite all his protestations of gallantry, I didn't really know him.

Once we were alone, all my worries resurfaced. I instantly felt awkward, ashamed, not knowing what to do with myself. He saw and smiled, as much enjoying my discomfort as to reassure me.

"Oh, don't be frightened, just you and me now."

"Yeah, that's the problem."

He came towards me, put an arm around my back, pushed my hair off my face. My body moulded to his automatically, as my instincts took over. I looked up into his face, my eyes big. It was out of my hands now, this was his territory and I just had to follow his lead.

"Shh, it's OK, just look in my eyes and you'll see that you can trust me," I did as he asked, falling into them, so beautiful, flecked and green, just like.... "They're like the sea, aren't they? You remember the sea don't you?"

It was as if he'd seen my thoughts, or perhaps... put them there... I remembered the sea (when had we been by the sea?). Laying down, warm in the sun, dozing while he described the waves, their slow, endless motion, something so soothing, so easy to just accept, always there, endless...

I felt dazed, as if I was floating, the familiar feeling creeping over me too rapidly to resist. Oh god, I was helpless to do anything as he kissed me hard, moved me where he wanted me, not even needing to keep up any patter as my keen awareness of our relative positions did all the work for him.

He was in charge.

I wasn't.

"Remember the sea..." he whispered from time to time, when I looked as if my thoughts were resurfacing and I went back down into the soft depths, his tongue, the waves, his hands, the irresistible currents. Each time my arousal washed through me I sank deeper under his control, lost a little more ability to resist, more open, more vulnerable, until I knew I was completely in his thrall and shuddered with release.

His eyes glinted. "Good girl, now, remember the whirlpool."

Everything went black.

For Me

This one's for me, a selfish act, not something designed to please you, or to fulfil his fantasies, but just mine alone.

A perfectly judged sharp slap, time stops, my head empties, there's nothing but this moment, and the pure alert focus of attention. 

I don't need to make up a story if I don't want to, I don't need to entertain or impress, I'm serving myself today.

The sound of a voice caught between awe and laughter, sweet and vulnerable as it leads me into the darkness.

And yet, this isn't about me, I'm barely here, this is me looking out, me hearing, me feeling, it's about the things that take me away from myself, into something better.

The feeling of lips on mine, a soft connection with so much force hidden behind it, a tongue swirling around my mouth, merging, endless.

The sublime other.

Music that sounds like the universe breathing, music you hear with your body, falling deeply and safely, cushioned, protected, surrounded by something eternal and powerful.

There's no need to create a visual, this is a hidden world, an invisible world of sounds, sensations, ideas and emotions.

A smell like a drug, affecting without me being able to pin it down, nothing unnatural, almost imperceptible, I only know it's there because I relax, feel aroused, I'm out in the wilds yet finally home.

It's even beyond words, the language I usually crave falls short of things this overwhelming.

Being held in the perfect position, all aches and pains melt away, nothing matters, nothing can touch me here.

Choice

My arrival seems a world ago, my nervous formality as I knelt and handed you the crop you'd told me to bring. You coldly accepted the offering, placing it on the table without a word, leaving it untouched as you methodically stripped layer after layer of my clothing and defences. Soon I was naked and trembling, no longer a witty, sharp talking professional, but a vulnerable and aroused sub, confused by your games, lost, only able to cope with following commands.

It's dark outside now, we've been here for hours, the warmth of the day has turned to evening chill, and you drew the thick curtains sometime when I was blind. Your eyes hold me as you wrap the rope around my wrists behind me. I'd keep them in place from just a word, but I enjoy the sensuality of the cord on my skin, a little rough, a little smooth, as perfectly balanced as everything between us.

You pull up the loose end, making slow pain bloom in my shoulders. I bite my lip, breathe hard. The pain is a gift to me, my suffering a gift to you. You sense the point of my tolerance, hold my arms there, curling your lips, as I try to smile back bravely. Then too suddenly for me to know what's happening you strain my arms up a notch, beyond what I can bear and I scream out from a place deep within me.

Your hand muffles me abruptly, "No," you tell me, and I try to cope with the fire. "OK, better." You efficiently position me across a padded stool, I focus on the cool velvet against my belly as you bind me to the legs, my breasts hang loose over the edge, blood starts to rush to my head. You pinch my nipples hard when you're done, more out of affection than sadism, like a pat on the head to a dog.

I hear you move to the table. It's time. I clench unconsciously. Although the thought of being disciplined turns me on, the hard reality is something I shrink from, but it's too late. I'm helplessly splayed, arse thrust out as if it needs to be struck, like a plant reaching for sunlight.

Your hand strokes my smooth behind, no evidence that this won't be the first time. You've been kind in the past, I fear I passed your tests too well and you're going to take me to the next stage. The first few thwacks fool me, I think it's going to be bearable, then the messages get from my nerves to my mind and I start to scream out wordlessly in anguish.

My protests just make you hit harder, more precisely, until at last some sense of self preservation makes me beg you to stop, I'm crying without shame, big gulps of air, eyes streaming.

"Shh, it's OK," you wipe away my tears with a soft handkerchief, your hand on the back of my neck reassuringly. "I'll give you a choice. You can go home now, I'll clean you up, get you a taxi, and phone you tomorrow to see how you are."

I sniff pathetically, "O-or?"

"Or you can stay, and make me proud of you."

I take some deep breaths. There's no choice really. "I'll stay, please."

"Good girl." I can hear something in your voice that makes it all worthwhile. Something like awe. I vow to take whatever you give me.

Once I've decided that, the pain can't touch me, I just float on the endorphins, every stroke stoking my desire, until my body is just pure sensation. You keep going again and again, in the same place. I whine softly at the purity, at the intensity, until I realise you've stopped. I hold my breath. Is it over? Then, with full force the crop snaps one final time and I feel something break. It's an ecstatic moment, as if I've touched the infinite. I'm coming hard, but I barely notice. I know before you hold your hand in front of my eyes that you've drawn blood. I lean down and kiss your hand, the metallic taste making my tongue tingle.

Your head rests against mine, for a moment we stay like that, calm and at peace, then you move your head away and I feel your pointed tongue run along the welt. I gasp at this new sting, and as I'm reeling I realise you're fucking me, our sweat mingling and rubbing into the soreness. I'll be marked from this. You've claimed me. There's no going back. I grind my behind into you, relishing the ache, not being able to distinguish between it and the growing pleasure. You're pumping hard and deep, but as you're nearly there you pull out, making me come with your hand while your spunk lands molten and burning in the stripes on my behind.

I shudder into your hand, blissfully happy at the holy union of my blood, your spunk and my come.

Spiderwebbed

I don't know how I got here, it doesn't really matter any more, all of that is far away.  All I know, all I've known for as long as I can remember, is being suspended in this web, this strange network of soft, rubbery black threads, crisscrossing my body, supporting me, imprisoning me.  They move sometimes, I don't know if they have minds of their own or if they're being directed.  I'm so tired all the time, that I just sag, helpless to escape, and let them do what they like.

I know another round is starting when tendrils slip into my ears, the soothing whispers start, and my head begins to loll. At first I'd try not to listen, but the voices were too insistent, too persuasive, and so now I just nod absently along to the suggestions, feeling as if a good friend is giving me advice, or perhaps trying to seduce me, I don't really care once the strands around my clit start to lick me and gently slide up inside.

Deep feelings of arousal and wellbeing pulse through me, washing everything else away, the strings have become my lovers, my desires, my controllers. I come for them again and again, and as they absorb my wetness, it makes them ripple and shine.

Quick and Easy

A look across a room, eyes that burn into her coldly, appraising her, scientific almost. She blushes and looks down without knowing why. Later the same man is being introduced to her, his smile is polite but knowing, is it all in her head? Surely he can't see her dirty little thoughts the way his amused expression would suggest.

They talk a while, she tries to take charge of the conversation, win back some ground, but without being aggressive he somehow manages to steer her in directions she didn't want to go, she's opening up to him, telling him about her private life, as if she's known him for years.

Eventually the words stop, he's looking at her again, calm, powerful. "You should go," he whispers.

She's startled, doesn't he like her? Is he bored? Her eyes are wide and she doesn't know what to say.

He smiles cruelly, "or I'm going to make you do all sorts of sordid things, there's no way you can resist me."

She breathes deeply, relief and arousal filling her. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmurs coyly.

Back View

My arse was plugged up tight, a softly buzzing vibrator pushed deep inside, echoing the matching one in my cunt. I would have felt humiliated, exposed in my hogtied position, kneeling, head down, with my arms bound across my chest, but the drugs coursing through my system made me feel too sleepy and compliant to care.

All I could do was fall into the pulsing, letting the waves of arousal build up, wiping out my mind until his hand on my behind didn't faze me at all, it just seemed to be part of this dreamy experience.

He stroked my smooth skin, caressing the soft curves of my backside firmly, making me feel vulnerable and protected at the same time. When I'd just had time to get used to it, to like the warmth of his touch, he took his hand away.

A sharp slap stung me in its place, making me feel ashamed without knowing why. In my fuzzy state, I couldn't separate out the feelings, and as he kept up a rhythmic spanking it just heightened my pleasure.

Softly, so softly, I started to lose control, moaning helplessly into the bed. As my shaking legs signalled my impending orgasm, he stopped spanking and let a hot spray of his spunk rain onto my body, pushing me over the edge.

Reborn

When they met she was beyond hope, trash, he found her in some seedy bar, drunk, talking to some guy who'd been topping up her glass, slurred and debasing herself. God knows what he saw in her, she just remembered him taking her arm, saying "Come on girl, time to get you home," and the other man's surprised expression.

She opened her mouth to give him some shit, but saw something in his eyes that made her hesitate, made her play along. "Hey, Daddy, what you doing down here?"

His eyes flashed with some cross between lust and amusement. "I came to find you, dear, when I saw you'd forgotten to take your medication, well..."

"Oh, silly Daddy, you know I'm a slut whether I take my medication or not." she smiled the brightest smile she had for a long time, and enjoyed the horrified look on the face of the loser she'd been talking to, as the new man dragged her away.

He pushed her up against his car, slid his hand up her skirt, slowly, so achingly slowly she felt herself shake with desire before he reached her wet knickers. His hand slipped inside them with no resistance; as he caressed the folds of her pussy for the first time, she just gazed hungrily at him as if he'd been doing this for years.

"It's a good job I came by, girl."

She tilted her head to the side, smiled "and why's that?"

"Because you need taking in hand."

"Mmm, promises, promises." she tried to sound confident, but his expert fingers were making her breath ragged, and her vision start to blur.

"I can see you've got something special in you," his hand pressed inside her as he said this, "but you've let yourself go, you've got lazy, slutty, cheap," these were punctuated with little pinches on her clitoris that made her gasp.

She wanted to disagree, to tell him she was just trying things out, seeing the world, but the look on his face told her he'd accept no argument. "Yes, sir," she blurted out without knowing why.

"You need someone like me to give you direction, to show you how a proper girl should behave."

She couldn't do anything but nod desperately at this point, his words were just a fuzzy background to her arousal, she'd agree to anything he wanted, so long as he kept touching her like that.

"You want to come back with me, let me train you."

"Yes, sir."

"Do whatever I say."

"Yes sir!"

"Obey me."

"Oh! oh! Yes sir! Yessss..." her pussy spasmed helplessly around his hand, which was so strong, and certain, and knowing, she just felt weak and fragile in comparison. She kept coming for an age, legs giving out, his grip on her sex the only thing holding her up, the only thing between her and the abyss.

"Good girl," he whispered and let her into his car.


---


The next morning she woke up in a clean, white bed, it felt like she belonged there even though she'd never seen the room before. There were books, CDs, DVDs and a player hooked up to a monitor, not hers, but with a kind of familiarity, as if they could have been hers in a different life.

She was dressed in a simple, pale silk gown, and had vague memories of him feeding her glasses of water as he stripped her and washed her, murmuring reassurances, making her feel safe and protected.

Her clothes and phone were nowhere to be seen, she tried the door and found it locked, a slight burst of panic gave way to acceptance surprisingly quickly. Someone didn't provide all this comfort for someone they planned to harm did they? She was grateful there was an en-suite at least.

She occupied myself for a while, playing some music and reading, oddly calm. Perhaps she should have felt like she'd been abducted, been trying to escape, but instead she felt like she was on holiday, she had agreed to this after all, albeit in a slightly coerced way.

Finally, the door was unlocked, without really knowing why, she quickly put aside her book and sat up primly. He smiled at her eager face, not showing whether he'd been wondering if she might be angry.

"Morning, girl, ready for a fresh start?"

"Yes, sir!"

His hand shot out and grabbed her hair, pulled her face towards his. "Don't fucking lie, bitch!" he spat at her.

Tears sprang to her eyes, she'd been ready for some nice cozy scene and he'd slapped her expectations to the ground. She didn't know what to say and just stood there awkwardly.

Then he stroked her face tenderly, the sensation felt all the more real in her raw emotional state, she hung onto the comfort it gave as he carried on caressing her, hands firmly rubbing the back of her neck, her shoulders, soothing her tense muscles.

She felt like she was hanging in a balance, breathing softly so as not to break the spell as his fingers lightly slipped over her breasts through the silk, the touch felt so smooth and soft that her chest pushed itself into his hands to feel more of this pleasure.

He chuckled and just drifted his attentions across her taut stomach, her behind, the skin yearning for sensation, tingling with desire as he moved onwards. Her pussy was aching, hot and wet, needing him to touch it so badly but there was nothing she could do. She looked at him with parted lips and wide eyes, begging him silently.

"There you go, now you're ready." He pushed her back onto the bed, spread her legs and knelt before her almost reverentially. He slowly moved the skirt up her thighs, revealing more and more of her pale skin. Time seemed to move differently, slowed down, but with every second filled with intensity.

He bent his head to kiss her mound, gently licking her clit, pressing his fingers inside her so easily. All the sensations blurred into one eternal, liquid wave, just building for ever, each ripple of pleasure setting off more and more in turn. Her thoughts were long gone, dissolved without her noticing.

She half realised that his thumb had taken the place of his tongue, and that he was kissing her, her own juices making his lips sweet, their faces crushed together hungrily.

"What do you need?"

"Fuck me!"

He took his hand away from her pussy abruptly and slapped her thigh. "No, try again, what do you need?"

Confusion filled her, she didn't know how to respond, didn't know what he wanted, she wasn't used to this kind of thing, couldn't predict him. "Er... Use me?"

Another slap, harder this time.

She searched his face, trying to see what he was looking for, but he wasn't giving anything away. "Train me?" she tried.

His hand returned to giving her a little pleasure, light touches, just making her ache for something more. "A bit better," he conceded, "but still not quite there."

She reached deep inside herself. What did she really want, what did she really need? He wouldn't be satisfied with the usual trite things that subs said to doms, this was something new, something real. She felt words come unbidden to her lips. "Save me."

He looked surprised, she wasn't sure what he was imagining, but that hadn't been it. However, he accepted her answer, recognising it's truth. He gently slid his cock inside her, every millimetre multiplying her arousal, making her feel helpless and safe at the same time. They fell into rhythm together, locking eyes, seeing something new, scary, but utterly desirable in the depths.

As they lost themselves in each other she felt washed clean, she felt reborn.