Friday 31 August 2012

Below the Surface

Part One

Simon had been at the club for a few hours, he was always surrounded by friends and barely had a moment to himself, but he still smiled at Holly when she arrived as if he'd been waiting for her all night.  She enjoyed the warm hug, even though she knew everyone was greeted like this.

The evening passed as usual for both of them: dancing, chatting, casual sub/Dom with acquaintances.  Holly could never tell if her draw was heightened or decreased by hanging around with Simon, but she'd rather bask in his light than have her own fangroup without him in it.

He passed her as she was having her boots licked by a young puppyboy.  "Adorable," her friend commented and patted the sub on the head.  The boy looked up at them for a moment, and they sighed in mutual appreciation of the fuzzy look in his eyes.

"So subbed out..." Holly murmured softly, even though the puppy was too engrossed in her feet to be listening.

Simon held her shoulder. "Completely given over..." he whispered in her ear. She felt her stomach flip and looked sharply in his direction but he'd already moved on, sliding in between two goth girls who seemed to have come there with the express purpose of getting into a threesome with him.

Her interest in her pet was waning, so she pulled his head up to her level, "Very good boy!" she purred in her best Domme voice. He shuddered and panted gratefully and she dismissed him.

Holly couldn't put her finger on it, but she didn't seem to be enjoying this kind of thing as much as usual.  She didn't consider herself massively into 'the lifestyle', so just dabbled with whatever came her way, but she'd noticed her submissive side coming to the fore recently.  Something had felt right when Simon had described the total surrender of the puppyboy. As if he could see inside her, what she needed better than she could. It was unusual for her to have such a physical reaction to his words though.

She looked over at Simon, he caught her eye and held it for a few moments while he did something under the table to one of the girls.  Holly groaned. The twist of emotional pain was unmistakable. Without noticing it happening, she must have been falling for him for months.

Holly was too confused to stay, and tried to say goodbye quickly. Simon made impressively persuasive arguments for her to come back to his with the girls afterwards, but she excused herself. She needed to think.

In bed her mind was racing, trying to reassess things that had passed between them over the last few weeks, but as she knew, it was too easy to read what you wanted into things.  She slept fitfully and dreamt of him with the vividness that comes after something repressed comes to light.

The week veered between her trying to ignore her feelings, and overanalysing every online or text interaction that passed between them. She wasn't even sure what she wanted from him, it was just a sort of free floating desire that felt very different to her usual crushes.

Although Holly was prone to obsessing over people and longed for someone who'd be as crazy about her as she was him, she couldn't see this happening with Simon.  He was exciting to be around because he couldn't be pinned down, everything was interesting to him, and that meant he was easily distracted. When he was focused on you, you were the centre of the world, but the next second it would be someone else.  She wouldn't change him for anything.

Club night came round again. It was relatively early for her to arrive and Simon was surprised to see her, but took the opportunity of relative quiet to inform her in graphic detail of what she'd missed by not going back to his the previous week.

Eventually he asked how she'd been. Holly gritted her teeth and resolved to just be honest. He'd never freaked out at her yet, she was confident in his ability to handle the situation better than she could.

"Eh, I'm feeling a bit weird, really."

"Aw, babe, what's up?"

"Um. I've been having a lot of fantasies. Of submitting. To you."

Simon chuckled, but his 'as if' expression faded when he saw she meant it. "Oh. Wow." He frowned, "I mean, that's sweet, but you sound like... serious."

Holly's stomach was churning. She couldn't believe she was even talking about this. "Ah, it's OK, don't worry about it. Just thought I'd let you know, so it didn't get weird."

"It's already pretty weird, but it's cool. I don't have a problem with it, just..." he put his arm round her, his voice kind but sad, "I don't really feel that way about you."

The words that would be carved on her gravestone.

She tried to disguise wiping away a tear by leaning on her hand. "Oh I know! I know, I don't expect anything from you..." she pulled herself together and grinned in her usual mischievous way, "I just thought I'd give you some ammunition, you've been getting a bit soft on me recently."

He smirked in a 'you're in for it now' way, then turned his back on her to charm the boy sitting the other side of him.

Holly breathed deeply and went for another drink. The pain felt good, her system was able to process it into a sort of cathartic buzz so long as she knew where she stood.  It had been a bit awkward, but she'd made the right decision. This was so much more bearable than the doubt and paranoia she'd been through all week.

When she went back to the table, she was still being play-ignored so just chatted to a few friends, politely declined some advances, and tried to enjoy herself.  After less time than she'd anticipated, Simon turned back to her and shuffled her into a corner to talk with a bit more privacy.

"What kind of fantasies?" He asked, then quickly added, "I'm not making any promises, mind."

This was unexpected, but Holly tried to just be open without getting her hopes up.  "Oh, you know, being led round on a collar and lead, tied up, teased, headfucked..." She looked down bashfully, "but, I'd do anything you wanted really."

He snorted. "Fuck, collar and lead? Seriously? That's such a cliche!"

She smiled in agreement, enjoying her own humiliation. "I know."

"Hmm. It might be fun, so long as you don't start wanting anything more." Simon was able to make the most cutting thing sound friendly and reasonable.  They regarded each other quietly for a while, then he took something from round his neck, ironically the least collar-like thing he was wearing.  "Wanna try something? Just for tonight? See how it goes?" He asked casually.

Holly's voice caught, but she tried to match his tone. "Sure."

He reached over and clasped the simple leather strand with a few beads on it around her neck. She shivered a little, his touch was magnified by the adrenaline pumping through her. "This is really simple. When you're wearing this you do as I say."

His voice had changed, perhaps she was just imagining it, but it sounded fuller, more powerful, more authoritative than her own thoughts. Holly's breathing sped up. She couldn't speak, so just nodded.
"Good girl."

Her eyes half closed as she felt sweet release from responsibility flood her veins. She was falling into subspace without a hitch.

Simon watched Holly carefully.  She was usually good at hiding her feelings, he could generally read her better than most, and easily persuade her to explain herself if not, but this was like seeing a mask fall.  Her face softened, she looked childlike, mouth drooping open slightly, eyes gentle and trusting.  It was beautiful.

He had to pull himself together, it was just Holly, he was getting caught up in her craziness. "Kneel on the floor, suck your thumb, let your mind go blank."

She slid into place gracefully, doing as she was told without question.

Simon ruffled her hair. "Wait here, I've just got to go and talk to someone." In the role he was playing he didn't really owe her an explanation, but somewhere in there was his friend, and he wasn't going to turn into a complete bastard, even if it would have turned her on.

After some time, Holly became aware of a man standing looking at her. She gazed up at him, not taking her thumb out of her mouth.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He settled down on the seating next to her. "A little girl with no one looking after her? Where's your Daddy? Or Mummy?"

Holly wasn't sure how to respond, her thoughts were still sleepy and she didn't know if she was allowed to stop what she was doing. She just looked confused and hoped that would be enough.
The man patted his knees. "Come and sit here, I'll take care of you."

It didn't feel right. She shook her head.

He sighed. "Now don't be dense, he told me to come over, he wants you to do this."

Could it be true? Holly's mind whirled, she didn't really know what Simon would do with her once he had her in his power. Perhaps he was into sharing his subs. She felt sick but didn't want to risk failing her first test. Cautiously she went and sat on the stranger's lap.

"Excellent!" He held her wrists down by her sides, it was scary but reassuring at the same time. He murmured into her ear, "let me be your Daddy now, you're safe with me."

She was still feeling pretty subby and aroused, and there was something appealing in his words.  She relaxed back onto him, trying to quiet the voice in her head screaming at her to get the fuck out of there.

"That's a good little slut, now spread your legs for me."

That jolted her out of it. "I don't think..."

He squeezed her wrists tighter, she tried to wriggle away, but he was too strong for her. Without warning he let go suddenly, and she leapt up to see Simon looking at the man with something like Armageddon in his eyes.

"What the fuck's going on here?" Simon asked as calmly as a surgeon's knife.

Holly fell at his feet contritely. "I'm so sorry..."

He stopped her with a shake of his head. "No. I'm sorry. I should have taken better care of you." He stroked the back of her head to reassure her.

The interloper tried to bluff it out. "Come on, mate, she was all ripe for the taking, anyway, she liked it, didn't you, slut?"

Holly just buried her face in Simon's belly and hoped everything would go away.  He knelt down to talk softly to her. "Do you want to be with this guy? I'll piss off if I read this wrong."

She felt as if she'd been slapped awake. Her voice was strong and certain. "While I'm wearing this necklace I do as you say," she told him. Everything about her made it clear she wanted it that way.

"You heard her," said Simon, standing again, his voice filled with contempt. "She's mine."

The other man held up his hands. "Fine." He was quickly lost in the crowd.

They were both a bit shaken, and didn't really feel like staying.  Simon called a cab, and Holly barely registered that it was just for the two of them for once. He gave his address, then reached out and held her hand.  It wasn't particularly romantic, but made Holly feel a lot better, and she gripped it tightly.

"Do you want your necklace back?" she asked as neutrally as she could.

"No, no, you're going to be wearing that for a little while yet."

Holly smiled and snuggled into him.  That was all she needed to hear.

Part Two

After getting to Simon's flat and sorting themselves out a bit, Holly was led up to his bedroom and sat on the bed while he put on some music and tidied up a little.  He was lost in thought, and she responded by sitting quietly and waiting to see what happened.

Eventually, Simon stood and looked at her with a hesitant expression. "Can we just hang out for a bit?" he asked her.

She made cute noises and reached out for him, pulling him down into a friendly cuddle.  "Jeez, of course!"  They snuggled together for a while, it was familiar and comforting, but had an additional edge for Holly this time.  She noticed the smell of his hair, his hand on her back was more charged than usual, they held each others' gaze in a new way.

"Are you OK?" He whispered eventually. "I don't think I can do some kind of heavy scene right now."

She shrugged. "I don't mind, the last thing I want is for you to be doing something for my benefit."

He kissed her forehead lightly. "What do you want, hun?"

Holly considered his question seriously, "I think I just want to see what comes naturally."

Simon ran his hand up and down her arm, "yeah, fair enough, it's just really hard for me to treat you like some sub, you know?"

Her stomach dropped: she was always the sister, always the best friend.  She took a deep breath to try to stop herself crying.

"Hold it..." Simon interrupted suddenly, and she froze on reflex. His eyes flashed as she struggled but he kept it going until she had a rushing in her ears, and was begging him silently for mercy,  "...and let it all go."

Holly felt her will drain away with the air, dazed by his ambiguous smile as he took over her most basic functions. She was a little frightened of how easily he could reach in and puppet her, but that, of course, was his charm.

"Good girl." His praise made her shiver with a pleasure buried too deep for her to be able to resist it. "Now, keep breathing slowly and deeply as you relax for me, let your thoughts drift..." His voice had taken on that softly irresistible tone that seemed to buzz in the middle of her head.

She was falling into a light trance before she knew what was happening, surprised at how effective his simple technique was. In the past, she'd taken someone under while he watched, and they chatted a bit about mind control, but she knew he didn't have the same obsession with it she did.  She managed to speak sleepily, "you don't need to... this is my kink, not yours..."

"Shh, Holly, don't think, just do as I say." Well, she'd tried. As her eyes fluttered closed, he whispered a reassurance to her disappearing consciousness, "this is for my benefit too, you can trust me on that."

Simon wasn't an expert at hypnosis, but he was an expert in Holly, and managed to nudge her gently and smoothly into putting herself into trance for him.  He let her enjoy the feeling for a while, idly stroking her and watching how she responded in this state.

"Holly, are you very deep right now?" He asked her in a soft voice, not wanting to startle her.

"Not very."

Simon smiled at her manner, literal and without guile, he hadn't really seen her like this before, it was quite sweet. "That's fine, this is just an easy level of trance for you to return to, isn't it? Just right for playing games, having fun, feeling a bit controlled and helpless."

"Mmm." She wriggled a bit, picking up on the permission in his words.

"Let's call this 'playtime'" It was a sickly word, and he enjoyed seeing the conflict under the trance, knowing part of her was still awake enough to be cringing at how wet and open it was making the rest of her. "Can you fix that in your mind?"

"Yes." She wasn't entirely happy about it, but he didn't feel the need to test her, she would probably have let him give her triggers without even being hypnotised.

"You're doing very well, you're very good at following my instructions." Simon became increasingly still and his voice started to sound like he was asleep himself, "and now we're going to go even deeper, just follow my lead, I'll keep you safe."

Holly sank like a stone, the part of her that was watching what was going on marvelled at how naturally Simon was able to do this, perhaps he'd been reading up. Then even that part got seduced by the endless soothing rhythm of his words and loosened it's grip on things.

"OK Holly, we're in a very deep place now, just you and me, nothing else to concern you."

She felt like she was in an infinite flotation tank, her perception of the room was minimal, his voice echoed around with no thoughts of her own in the way.

The most persuasive, reassuring voice in the world spoke again. "I'm going to tell you some things and as soon as you hear them, you'll know that they're true, they'll become a part of you, as if they've always been there, do you understand?"

"Yes," Holly responded without hesitation. There was an imperceptibly slight flicker of worry that was washed away in waves of trust. Her hidden observer was sedated, but had always woken up kicking and screaming if anything really bad happened. Of course, she'd never been hypnotised by anyone she was this crazy about before.

"Good." There was a gentle edge to Simon's voice, something more affectionate than he usually showed. "Now, you know I care about you, and this is unconditional, I care about you because of who you are, and not what you do. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Holly sounded surprised and certain in the same breath.

"So, whatever games we play, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. I want you to be happy, so you're actually helping me if you're honest about how you're feeling. OK?"

"Yes." Almost wonder, this time.

"Excellent, and whenever you need to you can draw on a powerful confidence, and strength, and do what's right for you. When you're with me, or at any other time."

"Yes."

"Oh," he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "and you're very, very sexy and attractive."

"Yes."

Simon allowed himself a smile at her childlike acceptance of what he was saying. "Whether you're consciously aware of it or not, deep down you'll always know these things are true, whatever else we do. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Very, very good. Now you can start to wake up... your thoughts coming back... your will coming back... as I count from one to ten..."

Holly could almost feel her consciousness pouring through her body as he counted her up, and blinked her eyes open, taking some deep breaths.  "Fucking hell,"  she mumbled, tongue still a little thick.

He handed her some water, she drank plenty, and he put it down again before he spoke. "How was that?" His expression was fairly bland, but she detected a boyish uncertainty hidden in there.

She hugged him tightly. "Simon, my God, I didn't expect that at all!"

"But... it was OK?"

Holly laughed, "Yes! Yes, it was amazing!" She looked seriously at him, "but since when have you been that good at hypnosis? Or so considerate for that matter?"

"I'm always considerate, bitch!" He pinched her and they wrestled for a bit, enjoying goofing around. After a few minutes, they relaxed again, tangled together. "Anyway, hmm, I did look at a few videos of hot girls being tranced recently, so I guess I learnt a bit there, but mostly I can just pick up what to do off the person I'm with, you know what I'm like."

She nodded, he had an almost telepathic ability to read people and their desires.

"The thing is," he looked away, "I can be a real shit sometimes, and I sort of just let that happen with a lot of people, but I didn't want to risk messing you up, so, dunno, hope that helped." He turned back. "I can't... maybe I can't be what you want, but I don't want you to feel bad about it, let's just see how it goes."

They just held each other, processing feelings.  "Shall we go to sleep?" Holly asked after  a while.

"Hell no!" Simon grinned wickedly, showing a lot of teeth. "It's playtime..."


Thursday 23 August 2012

Peeping

As soon as Sam was through the door, he was almost knocked over by April leaping on him, "Ahhh, where've you been?" she yowled, hugging him desperately.

He chuckled, "Alright, girl, easy!" Sam accepted her kiss, but then held her at arm's length and looked at her awkwardly. "I'm afraid you're going in the cupboard for a bit, angel."

April shivered. He was going to have someone else round. Her belly twisted with the complicated feelings this gave her, but she knew she wasn't going to refuse, she never did. She held out her wrists to be cuffed and opened her mouth for the gag.

She knelt down in the wardrobe opposite the bed, it was fairly empty, with cushions for her: cozy enough, but she felt a bit like a caged animal. A not entirely unpleasant feeling.

Sam closed the door, after kissing her forehead, and whispering in the voice that owned her, "be a good girl for me, won't you?" The phrase melted through her veins, calming and thrilling. She'd do anything for that feeling, anything.

It wasn't long before there were voices in the bedroom, April lent forward to look through the slats in the door. The man who'd arrived was Owen, a regular hook-up, and she didn't know if she felt worse or better that it was him. She was relieved he wasn't with another girl, but this guy did seem to have a hold over Sam, and she was afraid he'd steal him away. Still, he was very sexy, an ideal sadist. If only he wasn't gay they could have had a threesome at least.

There was a little everyday banter, but soon the atmosphere changed, and her Dom turned into Owen's sub. It was still strange to see him like this, perhaps it was why he did it: the additional torture for her. Even if that was a factor, despite a few glances in her direction at first, his focus was soon completely on Owen.  She may as well not have been there.  The grinding heat started between her legs at the thought.

She tried to just watch, enjoy the sight as if it was some hot Yaoi porn. They were a pretty couple for sure: both skinny, with scruffy, spiky hair, Owen was a bit taller than Sam, and had a cruel air about him. They were perfect. April felt her female body was lumpy and disgusting by comparison, but fought bravely to keep her tears silent.

She could hear some of what was being said, but Sam's voice was softer and higher than usual, and she couldn't always tell what he gasped in response to the other man's commands and insults.  April wished she was courageous enough to burst out of the wardrobe, tear Owen to pieces for belittling her darling, but she couldn't deny he was too powerful for her. He would have quelled her with a glance before she even reached him.

Owen started fucking Sam's mouth hard, twisting his fingers in his hair, calling him names, instructing him firmly. It was mouthwateringly vile. April tried to rub herself with her cuffed hands, imagining being in Sam's position, or even Owen's...

Why had she thought that? She paused her furtive masturbation to consider what had triggered the strange rush of need she felt when she imagined Sam kneeling before her. It wasn't about him going down on her as he usually did - to control her by arousing her - but a keen longing for him looking up adoringly, trying to please, taking any degradation thrown at him.

April tried it again, watching Owen's expression carefully, trying to decipher what he was thinking. She started to see something in his eyes, around his mouth, the way his nostrils flared. Desire. Fascination. Yearning. All the things she felt when she looked at Sam.

She realised Sam was just as in control when he was sub as when he was dom. He reached in, found what you wanted, and gave it to you.  Owen was under his spell completely, and as April watched him lose himself, it felt good to join in for once.


Tuesday 10 July 2012


The party had canapés. Canapés. What the fuck was I doing here? You always dragged me along to these things, even though you knew they made me feel out of place.  In fact I think that’s why you did it - so you could feel out of place with me instead of getting sucked into the phoney airkissing and smiling backstabbing.

I poked at some food, it was probably some kind of vegan cheese.  I wished they just had some chicken drumsticks, but these kind of parties never did. I sighed and drank my organic sparkling wine.

Suddenly someone grabbed my arm, a flash of shaggy hair, a whirlwind of words, “Jesus Freaking Christ - you have to come talk to these guys, they’re ludicrous!”

I shuffled behind you hesitantly.  We were pretty similar on the surface, people could tell that we were mates, but there was just something that allowed you to slide into any group while I felt on the outskirts.  You were bright colours, sparkle, cascading music; I was faded sepiatone, murky shadows, doomy droning.

I made a few awkward introductions, not really grasping what all the excitement was about. They just seemed like a bunch of stoned hipsters, not even that cute. I raised my eyebrows, but you just gave me a ‘be patient’ look.

No one was really talking to me, I was starting to get bored and was ready to wander off, when someone shouted out some meaningless jumble of letters, and like a ripple it spread through the group.  Chanting their cult-like mantra, their eyes glazed over, as if the word gave them a comfort blanket high.

I caught your glance, you were grinning madly. I walked to the bar quickly, not able to trust myself not to blurt out something I’d regret.

“Another one, ta,” I heard you behind me.  I drank my glass down and got another immediately.

“What the fuck is up with those morons? And why are you hanging out with them?” I hissed at you.

You seemed hurt that I didn’t understand. “But... they’re so... mindless!”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Fuckssake, you can’t just poke at the retards, you’re better than that.”

Your face went dark. “Look, they started it, I just went over to say ‘hi’ to a girl I knew, then that annoying one in the Fugazi T-shirt started talking about wannabes who look freaky to cover up their middle-class guilt, staring at me the whole time.”

I knew what this meant. You were going to get revenge in your own inimitable way.  “Shall I go home and leave you to it?” I asked, trying not to show my emotions.

“Fuck no!” You wrapped your arm around my waist and pulled me back to the group. “I need your help.”

This sounded ominous.

I watched you work on Fugazi, your ability to charm was spectacular, I’ve seen you take someone from hating you to number one fan in half an hour.  Your target seemed to be resisting somehow, I suspected it was through idiocy rather than willpower: grinning smugly, expecting everyone to be desperate with desire anyway.

Somehow though, you got through the barriers enough to get a snog, probably an ironic one that was being drafted into a terrible poem immediately, but I could tell that wherever the mind was, the body was responding.  Your tongue was soft and persuasive in every way, and was sending subconscious messages to say that it would be just as skilfull on other parts of the body.

Soon it was over. The three of us got a cab.

When we got home, I tried to go to my bedroom and block it all out, but you ushered me into your room instead.  I sank into a chair, ruefully reflecting on how little free will I'd had all night.

Your conquest was playing it too cool to show any embarrassment at me being in the room while you got to work.  I was used to playing gooseberry to some extent, but this seemed like it might go somewhere new. I hoped you weren't planning a threesome, although I had to admit that the idea was a little intriguing, despite my revulsion for the third party.

Soon you were both oblivious to me, your mouth working between Fugazi's legs. I tried to push my jealousy down, watching the tableau like an artistic video: your fragile, pale skin contrasting with the darker tones of the body you were pleasuring; the rhythm of your  hair moving like wind on waves; luxurious arousal.

I still couldn't work out why you were doing this, I knew you liked to win people over, but this seemed a bit extreme. It was hard for me to enjoy the free porn when I felt as if you were being taken advantage of.

The urge to escape rose up again, but you chose that moment to move, hand replacing tongue to keep your guest docile, but now kneeling up to look at me.  I shivered.  There was something nihilistic in your eyes. I wouldn't have been surprised to see you reach for a knife.

Maintaining eye contact with me, you started to tease and pinch your victims nipples through the fabric. The moans that resulted were not displeased.  I heard myself joining in under my breath. You seemed to be transmitting your actions remotely, I felt every dig of your nails or torturous breath on the neck.

I was panting slightly, but the noise was easily drowned out by the sounds of desire coming from the bed. I was surprised at how passive you had made your partner, all bravado was washed away, no attempts to take charge of things, just a desperate need for whatever you gave.

I couldn't quite see what was going on, my gaze still locked onto yours, but I felt my own fantasies overtaking me, all the things I longed for you to do to me seemed to be exactly what you were doing now.

I lost track of time, the eternal moment of licking, biting, sliding, fists, restraint, edging, hard, slippery, delicate, brutal, endless, endless wanting.

We all seemed to be on the brink of something when you slowed things down to the bare minimum required to keep the tension up.  This resulted in some of the most pitiful whining I've ever heard.

You chuckled, cruelly but with a fair amount of disinterest thrown in. "Do you want me to let you come?"

"Fricking Hell, of course I do!" came the panicked response.

Your voice took on that tone that seems to buzz deep inside your head.  It was impossible to resist.  "Then I think you need to ask me nicely."

"Uhhh... please? Please can I come?"  I couldn't believe how pathetic the smug hipster sounded. I'd have laughed if I wasn't so turned on myself.

Your lips were the focus of everyone in the room.  "What will you do in return?" they asked sweetly.

"Anything! Anything you want!" I heard  true desperation.

"Good," you'd won. " Then remember this: you're just about to have the best orgasm of your life. Every time you come from now on, you'll know that it's a pale imitation.  That the only time you ever felt bliss was with me..."

The recipient of this barrage was too far gone to resist.  Your every word sank into a mind open and ready to receive instruction.

"...and this will be the thought that haunts you," you continued, "you'll know that you repulse me, and the only way I could keep up this charade was to pretend I was doing all this to my friend over there."

Something broke.  Both of you were watching me and I could feel a strange energy overtake us.  I should have been shocked at how evil you were being, but this all seemed perfect and necessary.

Your hand sped up to an irresistible rhythm but something else was needed. Words rose up in me. My mouth spoke with your voice.  "You can come, you worthless piece of shit."

We were immediately obeyed, the ecstasy helplessly spilling out like waves of lifeforce and I could see you feeding off it. You were radiant as you performed your dark magic, and I knew that your hooks were in place forever.

Once it was over we barely noticed as the visitor left shamefaced, you were still high on power and I couldn't muster any response other than silent awe.

You slumped back on your bed, and I ached to join you.  As if you knew, you patted the space beside you. "Come on, idiot, you need to be over here now."

I thought I'd hesitate, but I was laying next to you in a heartbeat.  For a long time we just looked at each other.  You reached out and stroked my hair, it was painfully sweet, but I couldn't get the thought out of my mind that you might just be playing with me as well.  I felt tears well in my eyes.

"Hey!" you chided softly, "What's up?"

I tried to breathe normally.  "It's just all a bit... confusing. I don't really know what's going on any more."

"Ah... don't worry about it, just do what feels right."

That was the trouble. What felt right was to worship you, surrender myself, give you my soul.  Yet, I knew I should challenge how you'd behaved.  "I didn't know you could be so cold," was the compromise that came out.

Your eyes flashed. "Yes you did."

I didn't know how to take it.  Sure, your blog was filled with plenty of dark stuff, and I'd heard you say some harsh things about people you'd got off with, but I still felt as if a curtain had been torn open. Perhaps what I really meant was that I was shocked by my own capacity for coldness.

Slowly, in case I freaked out, you put your hand between my legs, checking my level of arousal with a faux-scientific air.  Your look said it all.  Fuck it, we were both drawn to shadowy places, we may as well accept it.  Emotional pain was a heady aphrodisiac when done right, and you seemed to be a virtuoso.

There was something about you that made things fine, as if the normal rules didn't apply. You looked as beautiful and benign as a saint while you found all my weak spots like a demon.  I stopped fighting, gave in to the siren call of your soft lips, and sank into a warm lake of pleasure. I finally understood your supernatural effect on everyone you kissed.

Eventually you moved your head away, and chuckled as I tried to follow. "Shh... don't worry, just let me make you feel good."  You moved on top of me, gently holding my arms down, watching to see if I minded, although you must have been fully aware that it would just make my breathing get heavier, my eyes half close, and my groin start to grind.

"Just relax, stay like that," you murmured, and although you were no longer restraining me, I couldn't move even if I'd wanted to.  I'd thought your remote seduction earlier had pushed all my buttons, but now you were rewiring my erogenous zones: the insides of my elbows, the sides of my waist, my ankles, making every inch of my body sing. I felt woozy, trippy. My sensations were multiplied and I had a dreamlike feeling of floating, no thoughts, no cares, only your touch.

Soon it became apparent you were homing in, slowly, slowly nipping and caressing your way up the inside of my thighs. There was a breathless pause and then your hot mouth made everything else become irrelevant.

Whenever I try to describe the experience, my mind whites out again, but I do remember the feeling of your burning gaze calling me back into real time, I opened my eyes and had the image happily seared onto my retinas forever.

You slowed, took your mouth away and I groaned.  I couldn't say I hadn't been warned of your taste for control in this area, but it felt very different when I was the one being denied. Before I could regain the power to think straight, you started to stroke up and down, maddeningly slowly, leaving me strung out and barely able to register what you were saying.

"I was just wondering something..." you said casually, "just as a little game...  if only one of us could come tonight, who would you choose?" Your question sounded so innocent, but left me reeling.  I assumed this wasn't just hypothetical, and you'd waited until every cell in my body wanted me to make the selfish choice.

A lot seemed to be riding on this, for me at least.  I drew on the secret core that had sustained me through all the times when I had to disguise my yearning. It was time to show you how I felt.

I sat up, slid away from your grasp and knelt on the floor looking up.  "You. Always." I pulled you towards me and devoted myself to your pleasure. In serving you I found a kind of calm strength, my actions were smooth and certain, and you responded to them with a charming mixture of noble magnanimity and naive glee.

The sensation of my mouth on you was deeply erotic in itself, I seemed to share what you were feeling, and you me, as if we were so in tune that we were just one unbounded creature fucking itself eternally.  Barriers melting away in primal licking, sucking and worship.

I could have carried on forever, but your fingers tightened on my shoulders and I knew you were close. I glanced up at you mischievously, considering copying your cruel example, instantly realising it was not an option. I became a puppet, moving only as you willed it, completely guided by your needs, my subconscious somehow picking up what you wanted me to do without me needing to intervene.

When you came, I felt a gratification I hadn't experienced before, I was satisfied that I'd done my job well even though my own desire was pulsing and wishing it could join you. Once your breathing slowed and you loosened your grip, I stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next.

You smiled in a friendly but distant way.  "Wow! That was so great, thanks! You'd better go to your room though, or the others will think it's weird."

I was crushed, but a part of me had been expecting this.  I often though sex was just a bit of fun for you, no more meaningful than any other interaction.  I knew you cared for me as a friend, and I should just be grateful that you'd let me have the experiences we'd shared.

"OK, night then," I muttered as I turned to the door.

You bounded between me and the exit before I got there. "Oh my God! Are you kidding?"  You seemed genuinely upset I'd believed you. Your expression was oddly fragile, pupils enlarged, lips trembling in a slight pout.

I frowned, confused at the mixed signals I was getting.  "Look, I don't mind you using me for your games, I just... I need to know where I stand, I can't keep... hoping..." I blurted out, too fried to be diplomatic.

"Hoping?" You reached up and ran your thumb over my lips almost absent-mindedly, while you considered what I'd said. "Do you really like me that much?"

I nodded sadly, trying to resist the urge to take your thumb in my mouth and forget about everything else.

You smiled crookedly, and whispered. "Me too."

Our clothes came off with nervous fumbling, but neither of us cared, all that mattered was getting back into bed and fucking each other into oblivion.

I'd describe it, but every time I try my mind just whites out.

Sunday 27 May 2012

Ennui

"You're just too easy." Margaret sneered. Her young red haired companion was panting at something that she'd just whispered in her ear.

Kristin blushed, she couldn't help the effect these things had, even though she was pretty sure her friend wasn't really into her.  Perhaps it made it more effective, as she could just calmly identify which buttons to push to get the desired response.

Not to say that the older woman didn't get a kind of pleasure out of seeing the power she had, it just always seemed to be tinged with annoyance, or disappointment, and Kristin was never sure why.

The beer garden was full, but they could have been on their own, there was a pulsing current going between them that made everything else seem irrelevant. Margaret twisted her dark, curly hair round her finger, and seemed to be considering her next move.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, just block everything else out," she used that special tone of voice, the one that made Kristin turn to liquid.

The redhead immediately stilled, her eyes defocused, her mouth hung open cutely.  Margaret wasn't really hypnotising her, but there were enough cues to send her into a trancey state, mainly because her own body wanted to go there so much.

"Now, we both know that you're a good girl, nice and compliant..."

Kristin shivered, and nodded, wide eyed.

"So that means that you want to please me, right?"

"Yes, Mags, of course."

"Very good." Her eyes glittered, her voice changed. "So why don't you?"

The young woman's face went white.  "W-what do you mean?"

"Why. Don't you. Please me?" Margaret was cold and dispassionate, she sounded as if she was explaining something to a child that she didn't much like.

Kristin just didn't know how to respond, her lip trembled and there were tears welling in her eyes.

The other woman frowned, "it's a simple question. Do you even know what would please me?"

A frantic shake of the head, blushes, contrition. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think I could... I never thought..."

A dark chuckle. "No, you didn't think did you, you never do."  She seemed to be enjoying the other girl's pain. "I can tell you what I don't enjoy, I don't enjoy someone who turns into a drooling zombie at just a few words,"

Kristin gasped, she didn't think she was particularly a pushover, "So... you want me to fight you more?"

"Sheesh, you just don't get it do you, how would that help? There's nothing more boring than someone who chats back, who think they know best. That's just being bratty."

The tears had come in earnest.  The redhead didn't even try to wipe them away, just let them roll down her cheeks in thick, hot rivulets.  How had things gone from some fun head games to this? She felt as if the glimpses of satisfaction she'd been able to glean from their friendship had been taken away from her. She had nothing left.

Margaret leaned over and caught a tear, then tasted it.  She looked alive for once.






Sunday 22 April 2012

Late Night Tales

We were both so tired that every blink could have taken us to sleep, but we still hung onto the edges of consciousness, laying on the comfortable rug, listening to fuzzy, flowing music and absently stroking each other from time to time.

In the low light, his eyes were almost black, I let my gaze fall into them, barely noticing time pass. Every now and then we spoke in voices that were quietly thick with longing.  There's something about the way people talk late at night, it's like a dream, like the words are coming up unfiltered from the unconscious, and I found myself just letting my thoughts flow wherever he led them.

I chuckled gently, "You'd better watch what you say, I'm pretty much in a trance right now..."

"Mmm," he pressed a little closer into me, "I'd be a fool not to take advantage then, wouldn't I?"

I enjoyed the fluttering feeling his seductive threat had created in my belly, I'd probably hoped for him to respond with something like that, but I still felt scared.

He murmured something so softly, I didn't hear it, my barriers couldn't even register it enough to fight, I just felt myself start to slip away.

I could hear my breathing change, from lightly aroused and fast, to the deep, slow breath of sleep, and yet, I felt more awake if anything, completely focused on him. "Do you really want to do this now?" I asked, with some effort.

His fingers played with my hair, twisting my thoughts away, "Shh, don't worry, everything's fine."

Even in a normal state, those words, in that tone of voice, would have soothed me instantly. Half asleep already, it was like pure peace flooding warmly through my veins.  He was doing something to send me down but I couldn't work out what it was, I just gave up and enjoyed the feeling, like cotton wool wrapping me up, like warm liquid bathing my mind, like tongues lapping every erogenous zone.

"Look at me," he whispered, "it's OK, you don't have to wake up, just open your eyes."

They had drifted shut at some point, and I dragged them open, still unfocused. I suppose it was so he could enjoy seeing my helpless entrancement.

"Good girl," the words had their usual effect on my arousal anyway, but he increased it with a peaceful stroking of my clit, "now, as you sink deeper into sleep, you know you get more turned on, but of course, as you get more turned on, you sink deeper into sleep.."

The spiral was familiar and comforting, and I accepted it easily. Part of me was trying to send up a red flag, but I couldn't really understand why, something about it being strange for him to be pushing me so far when I was already utterly compliant.

"Good, yes, all the way down... This feels so amazing, doesn't it? Just drifting, letting me guide you, doing whatever I suggest without thinking about it..." his voice was like velvet, but it just made my niggling warnings all the more insistent.

"mmm..." I heard myself not caring about the warnings.

"That's right, just sinking, so easy... now let me suggest something...." here it came, "you remember how we decided that because you enjoy this so much, you wanted me to be able to bring you back here easily?"

"mmm..." (easily and whenever he wanted)

"Well, perhaps you'd like me to be able to give you other things that you enjoy... imagine how good it would be if you could come for me anytime... anywhere..."

I started breathing heavily, partly from arousal, partly from emotional conflict. This was something we'd discussed before, and while it was super hot to imagine have an orgasm trigger, I wasn't sure I was ready to accept it for real.

He could see I was struggling and waking a little, so he stroked my brow reassuringly, not letting up on my clit with his other hand though. "Shh, safe and calm, it's just a suggestion..."

I relaxed instinctively, I knew my subconscious would only accept his suggestions if I was ready for them, but then he had taken advantage of my being extra tired, and going extra deep... still, the warning voices seemed to be weaker, getting washed away as my horniness built.

He was quiet for a bit, letting me be lulled by his touch "... although it is such a sexy idea isn't it..."

I moaned and writhed, he was making this sound so reasonable.  I couldn't really remember what was wrong with the idea anyway, all the other triggers he'd given me were fairly flexible, he'd never intentionally use them inappropriately, but if he accidentally did, I could resist them if I needed to.

"Baby, stop trying to think about this, you'll only make yourself more tired..." he was so clever with his voice, going right to the parts of my mind that just wanted to trust someone who sounded like they knew better than me. "It's really much easier if you just see things my way."

Something in me gave up fighting. I breathed out, sighing away my will, "yes, I see now, I see..." it felt really good.

He grunted happily and I was rewarded with a change in the movements of his fingers, going from a potentially endless circling, to something that was going to pull me inevitably to orgasm.  "Good girl, focus on the pleasure, that's all you have to do, just focus on how good this feels, I'll do everything else..."

I remember coming hard, the words he said fucking me so perfectly I kept going for what seemed like eternity, but then it was just real sleep that rose up to fill the space left.

I woke in bed, he'd got me there somehow, and I felt the warm satisfaction I usually did after we'd shared a night of closeness and control.

He opened his eyes when he heard me stirring, and smiled serenely.  "Morning, love. Want some breakfast?"

I nodded, still too dozy to speak.

He climbed out of bed, leaned back to kiss me, "Oh, and by they way...." he looked deep in my eyes and his mouth said something that I didn't hear. I was too busy being filled to the brim with the most incredible feeling, the bed dissolved into air and I was landing in pure bliss. It was as if that moment when you tip over into orgasm was extended, slowed down, stretched out, and I came with complete abandon.

He chuckled as he left the room.  Apparently my subconscious was just fine with his suggestion.


Tuesday 6 March 2012

Babysitter

"Emmy!"

She stopped, the voice was familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Emily scanned the bar in the direction of the shout and saw a man waving frantically at her, and wandered over hesitantly.

"Em, it's me, fucking hell, you know, Abigail's brother!"

"Jonny? Oh my God!" She returned his hug warmly, slightly embarrassed when she noticed an attractive and smartly dressed woman sitting next to him, regarding her suspiciously.

The man snorted when he noticed this. "Oh, don't worry about her." He waved his hand dismissively at the other woman without even looking at her, "fuck off now, pet, I've got something more important to do."

Emily started, but the pretty companion just flushed a little, looking excited if anything, as she silently collected her things and left.

He patted the vacated seat and she sat down without thinking. "Christ, Johnny! How could you talk to her like that?"

A flicker of embarrassment passed over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a wicked smile. "Oh, hmm, well she likes it when I treat her like crap."

Emily wasn't sure how to take this: last time she'd seen him, he'd been a kid leaving for university, all long hair and skinny jeans with holes in the knees. Now he was mature and confident, and seemed to be having the lifestyle they'd shared bright-eyed jokes about when they were growing up. She leaned over and whispered, "Is she your slave or something, Jonny?"

He laughed, "Sure, Em, one of them, and by the way, I prefer to be called Jon now."

"Not Sir Jon?"

He flicked a whip of a glance at her that made her feel uncomfortably chastised. "Not yet."

She couldn't seem to think of a retort, even though she'd always teased him mercilessly, so just shrugged it off as best she could. "Soooo... how's it going? You're looking great!"

He looked genuinely pleased, showing a hint of the boy she'd known, keen to impress her. "Oh, it's amazing, I've got a job with a little record label doing marketing, they seem to be going the right way, thanks to me of course," he winked, but she could believe it. He'd always had charm and enthusiasm to spare, and had apparently developed notable persuasive skills to match.

As they chatted about their work, Emily kept thinking about the look on the slave's face. She'd looked aroused, of course, but also at peace, almost shining, as if she was having a religious experience. What could her best friend's little brother have done to that sophisticated woman to make her submit so deeply?

The conversation lulled, and Jon looked at her sideways. "Go on, ask," he said.

Emily looked down, but a smile crept across her face, "Um... so, you have slaves now?"

He leant in conspiratorially, and she was very aware of his body against her, his heat invading her. "Slaves, submissives, pets, it's different for each of my girls."

She let out a sigh, now resigned to the fact that the boy she used to help with his homework was making arousal flare through her. "Can we just assume I gave you some chat about ethics and respecting women and move on to the 'Oh my God!'"

Jon chuckled, "Heh, it's not that big a deal, you know I've always been into stuff like this, you saw my bookshelf at home," and borrowed books and masturbated to them, "I met some people into it at Uni and realised that I can just see what someone needs and give it to them in a way that benefits me as well."

His casual tone made his words all the more affecting. What might he be able to use to manipulate her in the direction he wanted? "Erm, so, do you have a 24/7 thing with anyone?"

He looked away, retreated a little, "Eh, no, they're all pretty independent really, we just play around occasionally."

There was a long silence, as they both considered how much more to say. Eventually, Jon stood up and held out his hand. "Look, this is ridiculous, take me back to yours and I'll seduce you."

Emily laughed in surprise, but took his hand anyway. "Well, you can try, kid..."

He helped her into her coat and murmured in her ear, "No, you'll be easy, you just want to be hypnotised." She stumbled a little but he caught her.



Jon had been to her flat before, but it felt different this time. She was worried whether she'd left anything embarrassing out, but he wouldn't have cared, just started rifling through her CDs as usual. The odd mix of familiarity and strangeness made her uncertain how to behave.

Her guest seemed to sense this and beamed up at her. "Hey, Emmy, it's just me, you can trust me, I'm safe."

She chuckled and relaxed in her chair, before tensing again in case he was trying to soften her up.

He came and sat near to her, held her hand and looked seriously into her eyes. "I promise, I'm only going to do things you want me to, I just want to make you feel good."

She broke his gaze and looked down. "Oh, I know, it's just... scary."

He was stroking her hand rhythmically with his thumb, "it shouldn't be, it's not like I haven't hypnotised you before."

Her head shot up, "Huh? No you haven't!"

Their eyes locked again, this time he wasn't letting go. "Yeah, sure I have, you remember, when I used to babysit you."

"Wh-what? You've got that the wrong way..."

"Shh, Emmy, you're just tired and confused."

The flickers of pleasure in her groin that followed his words were indeed making it hard to think. It would be so nice to believe any reality he created for her, and this one was soft and appealing...

"It's OK, just let me explain it to you again," his stroking became a circling, slowing imperceptibly with every word, "deep down, you know I've been looking after you for years, just a little bit older and wiser, someone you look up to, to guide you, to keep you safe while you fall asleep..."

Her eyelids drooped, she was starting to feel like a sleepy little girl, he did seem older than her, a gentle authority figure.

"That's right, good girl, you won't be any trouble for me, will you? Deep down you know how much you enjoyed it when I swung those pretty pendants for you, sending you off into dreamland..."

Emily moaned, there was something so sick and hot about this, how could he possibly know all the right buttons to push? Such a dark, hidden little fantasy, she hadn't even admitted it to herself, but it was all rising to the surface, overflowing with pure need.

Jon slipped an arm under her knees and round her back. "Time for bed, sleepy Emmy, now hold on tight."

She did as she was told, feeling fuzzy and warm, as if she'd fallen asleep on the back seat of her parents' car. As she was laid on the bed, she seemed to sink forever, there were voices, hers and his, but she was too pleasantly drifty to make out what they were talking about. It didn't matter, she was safe with him looking after her, he was in charge, he'd always been in charge, deep down she knew that.

Friday 17 February 2012

Horned and Enthralled

A hand, a bottle, filling up her glass with thick, red wine. Selene didn't even need to turn around, she knew who it was. She'd been vaguely staring into space at the bar, finishing off her drink after her sister left for her train. He'd not even been on her mind for once, now all other thoughts vanished.

"Drinking alone?" Nikos asked blandly, yet somehow embedding the phrase with a grenade of emotions, she felt mocked, seduced, threatened and cared for all at once.

She gulped the wine to steady herself. "Not any more."

They finished the bottle, he told her about his travels, charming, bewitching. Her cares melted away, there was only their easy familiarity, the flickering heat of their desires. All too soon the bar staff were wiping tables pointedly, and they chuckled and walked the short distance to Selene's building.

She paused at the door to her flat. "Is this going to be the same as usual?" Her voice sounded light, but her heart was pounding.

Nikos touched the small of her back gently. "Just let me in."

The key turned, her face hit the carpet, the door slammed behind them. Wildness and tearing, hot breath, the smell of mountains, a glimpse of hooves and matted fur, something brutal and ancient, complete abandon...

Selene was roused from her daze by a blanket being wrapped around her, she smiled up at her beast, all peace and shining now.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, not sounding too concerned.

"Naturally," she responded in the same calm tone. It was a matter of pride between them to keep emotions muted, but they could still read the subtle language of flared nostrils and dilated pupils. He kissed her forehead like a shot of heroin and carried her into bed.

He stroked her hair, "Rest now, Lenie, I'll still be here in the morning."

She was surprised, but too tired to argue, and anyway he didn't make promises unless he meant them. She slept without dreaming, yet touching another world.

Waking was like time travel, eyes opened, soft lips, eyes closed, eyes opened an hour later, slow kneading of breasts, eyes closed, eyes opened an hour later, tongue in moist slit, eyes only half closed this time, and then opened very wide indeed.

Nikos helped her make breakfast, another oddity, he usually took over completely or allowed himself to be waited on hand and foot.

As they ate, Selene tried to hide her bemused looks, but he spotted them anyway, raising an eyebrow until she blushed. "It's just... unusual... you're being all... normal..."

His gaze darkened. "Why, thank you, it is an effort to hide what a freak I am, glad to know I'm finally succeeding..."

She felt the ground drop away, how could she have been so stupid? He let her stew for a few more moments, then shook his head and smiled down at the table. Selene breathed again, she'd lost a point, but no more than that.

"Shall I wash up, or is that too normal?" He continued poking her sore points, but now it felt like a teasing tickle.

She grimaced and helped him with the dishes. "No, it's nice, but, you know what I mean, how come you're not being the Ice King?"

He didn't snap at her this time, seeming to honestly consider her question. "I'm not sure, I just do what feels right, and I wanted to be myself with you more."

It was the closest he'd ever got to a declaration of affection, and she didn't know how to respond, just tried to stay calm.

Nikos seemed shy, looking over at her through his long, dark lashes. "I hope that's enough for you."

Her heart was in her mouth, not sure if this was part of one of his games. She just nodded, wide eyed in the deafening stillness.

He broke the spell by grabbing her arm and pulling her back into the lounge, "Don't worry Lenie, being myself is being a sex crazed monster, as well."

They laughed and tumbled like kids, the awkwardness forgotten, everything was easy and clear and simple. But then, like a snake in a tree, the shadow rose again. Nikos returned from a trip to the bathroom with a horned headdress left over from the last play Selene had worked on.

"I think this would suit me," he said as he placed it on his head. His feet and chest were bare, and with his bangles and beads, he looked like a Pagan god, like something out of Selene's deepest fantasies. Everything turned into slow motion and her field of vision narrowed to include only him.

With his ability to read her, there was no way he'd miss her frozen arousal. He seemed to pause for a few moments, considering her, then in an haughty and irresistible tone, demanded, "on your knees, thrall."

She obeyed before she even realised what she was doing.

"Worship me."

Her hands knew what he meant, opening his flies, grasping his thick cock, sliding it deep into her mouth. She was always happy to pleasure him like this, but in the mood she'd dropped into, it was blissful. She worked with zeal, every movement of her lips perfectly judged to bring him the most perfect sensations, quietly singing his praises with gentle vibrations in her throat. Soon she was rewarded with his sacrament, and she moved back, gazing up at him in devotion.

He looked a little spaced out, and took off the headdress, sitting down on the sofa. "Wow," was all that came out.

Selene couldn't quite bring herself to rise from her knees, although things were back to their usual pace, a part of her was still yearning for the certainty she'd felt moments before.

Nikos reached out and stroked her face, wiping away some stray liquids with his thumb. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?" He said in a strange tone.

She nodded dumbly, it had triggered her most primal desires, something she craved above anything else. It wasn't about the horns, or the oral, it was just that feeling of being in touch with something so powerful it was futile to even think of resisting. To serve because it was unquestionably the right thing to do. To reach somewhere sacred.

He smiled ruefully, "Well, I did too, a lot..." he stared off into space, "you know, if that's what you need, I can just arrive, use you, and go."

Selene considered his offer seriously. He would be perfect at that, the smooth, cold Master she secretly desired. What if the alternative just ended up with them being vanilla fuckbuddies? It would be too late to go back if she wanted to by that time.

"Come on, be honest with me," he murmured, "don't you long to be my thrall, no responsibilities, no worries, just the simplicity of doing what you're told?"

Of course she would, he knew that, but would it be enough? She was sure he'd be fine with whatever she decided, but what would make him happiest? She tried to read his expression, it was impassive but she could get under the surface if she tried. He seemed curious, aroused at the thought of having a slave at his service, but there was definitely something else, something... sad? Was he... lonely?

Her heart flooded with warmth. She had to take the risk, it was the right thing to do. Selene stood up, picked up the headdress, and smiled beatifically. "Don't you long for that too?" She put the horns on, and stared directly at him without hiding her emotions.

He flinched, eyes widening, not being able to resist responding to the combination of strength and love she was radiating. His gaze softened, something melting inside.

"Let me be your Goddess," she demanded gently.

Nikos chuckled and pulled her down into his lap, legs either side of his hips, friendly and intimate. "You already are," he whispered in her ear, then kissed her sweetly.

He unzipped his trousers and slid his cock deep inside her. They moved together like a ritual, a ceremony of lust. He was still in control with her above him, and Selene couldn't help but be relieved. Whether he was the High Priest or Wild Beast, she could still let herself go with him, it was somehow even more potent without the hierarchy being fixed. It was their desire that was sacred, what was manifested by their connection, rather than one of them being the container of power.

As they fucked, breathing hard, in synch, it was like being possessed, but becoming your most true self as well. When they came it felt like they were surrendering everything, opening up to the void and being filled again with endless abundance. The day to day fears and weaknesses stripped away, leaving only the awe, the majesty, the light.

They couldn't let go of each other afterwards, moving sleepily until they were spooned together, floating in infinite bliss, reborn and ready for whatever was to come.

Friday 6 January 2012

Doing it right

His eyes are mocking, but there's a flicker of wariness. She's so hungry for him, can he keep control? "My, my, you're dying for it tonight," he murmurs.

"Do me."

He chuckles, "What? Did you really just say that?"

"Yes, I'll do anything you want, but, please, do me now."

His hand reaches out to her, hangs in the air for a moment, strokes her face. "I'll hold you to it, you know that, I'll use you now anyway, then I'll make you do things that make you sick tomorrow."

"I don't care, I put myself in your hands, I trust you."

He shivers imperceptibly. Does she know what it does to him when she says that? He'd do anything she wants just to hear that, to see her eyes, gazing up at him so vulnerable, so helpless, so infinitely strong.

Instead of telling her this, he just smirks. "Oh dear. Bad judge of character."

She doesn't waver. Brave.

"Open up," he commands.

Her lips part instantly, fingers slide inside, and her eyes close. He doesn't know why she likes it so much, just knows that her mind is slowing down, that she feels like a drug is coursing through her veins, that she's getting wet. He's given her lots of addictions over the years, but this one was hard wired before they met.

He takes the time to think. What does she need from him? How can he take her to the place where she's satisfied? She might think she wants something brutal, for the pain to be beaten out of her, but his job is to know her better than she does herself.

"Be still for me," he whispers in her ear as he slowly glides her clothes from her body. She's as peaceful and glowing as a saint, yet he can see her muscles twitch as he caresses her so lightly it's on the edge of tickling.

She gasps when she feels him kissing her clit. Her flesh is hot and slippery and the coolness of his mouth just fires her all the more. He senses and leads her pleasure through his tongue: wide, slow licks become a rapid pattering rain, then slide into an irresistible spiralling motion.

As her orgasm approaches, he pulls away and gets up. She mewls plaintively. "Keep your eyes closed, stay standing," he tells her, his cold tone not giving away that he's watching her with a massive grin. The room is warm, so he knows her shuddering is caused by her extreme arousal.

He waits just beyond the point that where she wonders if he's still in the room, then orders, "Fall backwards." On some level she knows the bed is there of course, but she obeys too quickly for her to have considered this first.

He pins her down, fucks her, no need for anything fancy, she's completely his already.

After a while she opens her eyes without thinking, they flicker in fear, but he smiles kindly. "Shh, it's OK," he tells her. They both see nothing but the other's gaze, feel no barriers, melt into each other. "Ahh, f..." He loses words as she comes around him, he pulses deep inside her, everything is bliss for an endless moment.

He holds her close as she drifts off, marvelling again at how all he has to do to please her is do exactly what he wants to do to please himself.