Kink Weekly

BDSM articles ideas bondage erotica resource

You are here: Home / Archives for Erotica

Erotica

Have Your Cake-The Hose

By Leave a Comment

  • hot, sexy lesbian Domme and submissive bound
    via stock.adobe.com

Three clear tanks stood near the wall to the right. Round, each with a naked person submerged in water and forced to breathe through a snorkel clipped in place at the top. Two women and one man. They were awake, could see the people coming in, but could not move, as they were bound wrist and ankle to the frame they were standing on. So the metal fame came to the top of the tank. They climbed up the steps on the side and stood there and were bound by clips and cuffs. The snorkel was put in and they were lowered to the right depth. The lid was put on and the top of the snorkel put in place. They could drown themselves just by spitting out the mouthpiece if they wanted. 

Behind her were two cages, both empty. She was put into one of them. Cold steel bottom, padlocked, and the escort and guard left. The door was shut and locked. Looking around more, she saw three cameras. One aimed directly at the tanks, another at the cages and the third at the left corner. A hose was wound around a hook. A large hose, like firemen used, with a big tapered nozzle. There were several drains in the floor. Near the corner, in the middle, between the tanks.

There wasn’t anything to do but wait. She could be here minutes or hours before anyone came to do anything. There never were any clocks in any of the rooms she was left in for long periods. Not even her own bedroom cell.

She was there a long time when the door suddenly opened. The President came in wearing scuba pants, boots and gloves, but no shirt. A group of six guards followed. Two went to the first tank and activated the lift mechanism to bring the person up out of the water. With gravity returned, the woman had to sit on the top step and scoot herself down the steps to the floor. Her guards stood with her while the second pair got the man out. He was stronger, able to walk down on shaking legs. The third scooted herself down and lay in a curled heap on the floor, shaking and crying.

“The next time you want to fight a member in the pool, you remember this punishment. You’ll be here twice as long, if you’re allowed to live at all. Take them back to the Death Block.”

The room emptied and there he was staring down at her inside the cage.

“You again,” he said. “You just can’t seem to keep your hands off your own cunt, can you. I have a different sort of punishment for you. We’ll see if this one gets the message across.”

Padlock opened an d he used a short whip to drive her to the corner. 

“Sit in the corner,” he told her. “Face me.”

She saw there were clear plastic straps attached to the wall. Her arms were strapped first and then around the bottom of her thighs, holding her wide open on the cold, rough cement floor. He went to the roll of hose, unwinding it the full length and then turning the valve. The hose filled and he picked up the nozzle. Pointing to the wall, he opened the nozzle and adjusted the water until he had a fast mist. Cold water, and she shrieked and broke out into goose bumps as he wet her down. The spray concentrated downward, as he aimed lower and lower and adjusted the spray to a smaller and smaller diameter.

Then she was screaming a new sort of overstimulation as the hard, fast spray relentlessly pounded the flesh of her open vagina. Exhilarating but painful and she couldn’t angle her knees in to protect herself. Narrowing the stream, he aimed directly for her anus. Spraying up and down those few inches felt like he was spraying her entire torso as the water splashed all over her. Water flew with velocity in all directions, including into her eyes. She kept them closed. Water flowed from around her buttocks and back toward the drain. Drips ran down her thighs and breasts. Her hair became heavy with water and a single long drip tickled down the side of her nose. A hard toss of her head shook it off.

Several minutes and he closed the nozzle.

“Is that little cum at night before you fall asleep worth this, cunt?”

“It is at the time,” she sputtered.

And got herself another five minute drenching and pounding.

“Is that little cum at night before you fall asleep worth this, cunt?” he asked again when the water stopped.

“No, Master!” she chose to answer rather than give a smart reply again.

He turned off the water and opened the nozzle to empty the hose onto her.

“Keep it in mind.”

Excerpt is from Have Your Cake, story 1 in the Culpation League series.

Available now at your favorite digital store!
Have Your Cake by TylerRose.
books2read.com

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Erotica: A Touch of Trepidation

By 2 Comments

woman tied to chair splashed with water
via stock.adobe.com

Tonight I want to fear you. That’s not entirely true.  I could never fear you Sir.  What I really want, is to taste fear. I want to feel the hole in my stomach, the prickling on my skin, and my heart racing.  I want the blood to pound in my head and my chest to rise and fall rapidly.  I want to be disoriented and scared, and pushed to my limit.


I trust you Sir.

I’ve given You the liberties to my body, my mind, and my soul


I’ve let you love me in the most depraved ways.

Because that’s how we are.


Tonight, I want you to love me with fear.  I want to shake and sob because I don’t know what’s going to happen.  I want the lines between our decisions and our limits to be blurred.

I’m cold, Sir.  My body is shaking ever so slightly.  My muscles are tensing trying to hold position.  I’ve been here around ten minutes I’d guess.  
But, you know what happens when I’m cold.
It starts small.  I feel the ache in my hands and feet as the skin starts to stretch and swell.  Then I feel the irritation in my knees.  The cold causes them to itch and welt.  Then the goosebumps start.  They run the length of my arms and up my spine.  They cause my muscles to contract painfully.  Then, the longer I hold it, the more violent my trembling.  The harder it is to breathe.

You’ve kept it cold on purpose.

I know this.  Because, when I’m struggling to hold myself still, I cannot sink into oblivion.  I cannot regulate the pain of play by breathing and counting and disassociating.  I cannot simply close my eyes and bite down and bear it.  

I’m too distracted.

I’ve spread my legs wider than I’m supposed to at this point.  My forehead is resting on the bed, an allowable position if my arms weren’t hanging loosely at my side and my ass wasn’t sitting on my heels.

Every time I breathe in, it’s like breathing menthol.  There’s a spot, right between my brows, that feels like ice with each inhale.  As I exhale, I can hear the tremble of my breath. I’ve given up fidgeting.  I’ve lost track of time.  I’ve given in to my body before we’ve even started.

Just as you planned.

Because the greatest way to start the fear, is to put me in a position where my only outcome will lead to disappointment.

We both know that my body has more limits in the cold.  We both know, leaving me naked and waiting is going to wear me down. But I haven’t spoken.  And you haven’t even started yet.

I missed the sound of the door opening.  You always walk so silently but I’m usually much more in tune with your movements.

I feel sluggish.  Like everything is in slow motion.

I feel the point of your knife against my spine.  I inhale sharply as you drag it up my sensitive skin.  It burns Sir.  It burns like it’s been heated.  You trail it up and down with purpose, but you haven’t spoken yet.  Other than the slow torture, you don’t seem to acknowledge i’m even here.

You yank my hair and pull my head back hard.  It tightens my airway and I feel the point of your knife right below my chin.  You drag it so slowly.  I’m trying not to move and in desperately trying to meet your eyes but you won’t look at me.  Your eyes are focused on my chest.  

What are you looking for?  Why won’t you meet my eyes?  Is it to make me panic?  Is it to stop me from finding my center?

I’m beginning to wonder if I am ready for what I’ve asked for.

You kicked my legs farther apart.  My thighs are straining with the effort.  You slid the knife between my knees, laying it on the floor a hairsbreadth away from my crotch.  I know better than to rest against it.  Not only is it bad form, but then I would be dirtying your shine.  I don’t need that punishment right now.

You’ve moved behind me now.  My eyes slide closed as the blindfold goes on.  I’m surprised when a knotted rope slips between my teeth, pulling tight against my cheeks.  Then, the hood.

How I hate that hood with a passion.  You know how much I panic when I feel alone and vulnerable.

The fabric pulls against my nostrils and mouth as my breathing increases.  I’m straining to hear you.  I’m tempted to move but you’ve fixed that issue.
The rope is threaded through my D-ring and wrapped from elbow to wrist.  It pulls at my shoulders and brings my back straight.

I know with certainty why you bound me.  It’s not something you normally do.  You did it solely to make me vulnerable.  You know I would fight the urge to reach for you.  You love seeing the beads of sweat down my brow as I’m trying to hold myself together for you.  

Today, you are testing me.  You have taken my number one fear, silence, and amplified it.

You’ve left me cold, my nerves on fire, and my senses taken.

You’ve left me in a state of shock.

You’ve left me…

I’m convinced you’ve left me down here alone Sir.  

It’s so cold and so dark.

When I asked you to make me afraid, I had a very different vision than this.  I imagined being thrown around like a rag doll.  I imagined harsh words and an audience to humiliate me.  I even imagined you might let someone else touch me.

But, I never imagined it would all be in my head.

My eyes are burning.  I’m afraid you’ve left me alone down here and the silence is deafening.

I finally dropped.  My head fell forward, my chin to my chest, and I’m shifting on my knees.  I’m restless and scared and desperate to find you.

*Thwack*

I screamed in both shock and pain at the intensity of the hit.  If I was in a state to guess, I’m betting I was kissed by your snake whip.

*Thwack**Thwack*

I’m trying to curl back.  You’ve hit each breast and my stomach.  Every time you strike me, I move.  Every time I move, you strike me.

Over and over again, you kiss my skin.  It hurts and I’m crying.  I’m hiccupping around the gag.  

I can’t breathe.  That’s exactly what your aim is, I’m sure of it.  Pain is much harder to enjoy when I can’t sink into it.

I don’t remember the strikes stopping.  But I remember the hood being yanked from my head and your fist in my hair.

I remember your hand slapping me and you letting me fall sideways to the floor.  

I can still feel the rubber of your boot against my reddened cheek.  I remember the pressure and the pain in my ass as you smacked it, over and over again.  I’m not even sure what you used.  

I’m begging for mercy in my head.  But I’m not ready to give in.  When you move back, I’m trying desperately to bring my knees back under me.  I’m trying to be good and give you access to my body.

My legs are wobbling so bad.  I’m trying to hear you through the rushing in my ears.  I know you are talking.  I’m convinced it’s about how much I’m failing.

Rule number one: if you have not been told to move, you stay in position.
You’ve told me often enough that you get such Sadistic pleasure watching me fall out of position and having to out myself back into place.  That’s why you rarely bind me.  Because good girls know how to stay put.

I’m afraid I’ll never be good enough.  I’m afraid I’ll never be enough.I’m afraid I’ll always be too…

Broken.

I don’t remember much Sir.  I’m having trouble remembering what happened after I struggled to kneel up.

The next thing I remember is being laid out across the floor, free of restraints, with my head in your lap and your palm against the back of my neck.

As the sounds of water cleared from my ears, I can hear you talking.  My eyes are closed, they feel so heavy.  I’m shivering but sweating profusely.
“I’m so proud of you”. That’s the first thing I hear.

And I sob.

Your hand rubs up and down my back and I can hear you encourage me to let go.  That you’re here for me and you love me and it’s going to be ok.
I don’t know how long you held me before I opened my eyes.  I looked up at yours, still feeling dazed.  You meet them and give me three kisses to my forehead.

“You did so good, my little piggie.  Such a good pain slut”. Even after all of that, you know just how to make me smile.

I asked you to make me afraid.

You did that.  Even if I don’t remember all of it.

But, as you stood up, and I moved to kiss your boots, all I felt was peace.
Even in the darkest moments of play and the depths of a panicking mind, I will never fear you Sir.

That’s a promise.

Erotic fiction on Kink Weekly is for entertainment purposes only. It is not intended as a guide for how to do BDSM yourself. Always obtain explicit, enthusiastic consent from your partner before incorporating any element in your BDSM sessions, and maintain the ability for them to withdraw consent at any time during the scene, using a safeword or similar.

Erotica: Hanar’s New Life

By 2 Comments

two beautiful slave girls lying in bed awaiting their master
via stock.adobe.com

“Hanar! What are you doing so far from court? They’re up at QaN’Del, aren’t they?”

“His Majesty sends me to Murabet that I might serve Queen Reah and King Preece. I’m to travel with you. I have my own supplies for the baby and a purse to pay for whatever else I need. And two soldiers in plain dress,” she nodded to them.

“Well of course you should travel with us. Kayla will help you all she can and we’ll both enjoy the company. I certainly won’t be needing much with all my projects boxed up and out of reach. Do you come with us to Murabet?” he asked one of the soldiers.

“I’m only to see her onto the boat in Baan Harbor and the boat cast off,” he said. “We’ll sleep on the porch in the front and not be in the way. We have our own food.”

Over the course of the evening, Kayla warmed to the idea of another woman and a baby on the trip, and started to play a finger game she knew from her homeland. The boy loved it and tried to move his fingers the same way to imitate her. She held his hands and walked him the length of the room and he took his first steps alone from Kayla to Hanar to nurse. 

To better hide his identity, Hanar called him Shane, shortened from Dushane, his middle name. No one would question who he belonged to when she was the one nursing him and his hair was as dark as hers.

Beds made on the floor, because the bedframe had already gone, Kayla insisted Hanar and the baby join them to keep warm. Some jostling in the night and then a sudden “Taol, no. There’s another woman and her baby in the bed!”

“So,” he chuckled. “You’re my wife and I want you.”

“Well I can’t. Not like this. Go find a whore.”

Hanar turned her head. “We could switch places.”

Stillness and silence. 

“You’d do that?” Kayla asked.

“Well, yes. That’s what I’m for. I eat slave bread. I have a supply. And we have before. But only if it wouldn’t upset you, Kayla.”

“You have before?” Kayla questioned.

“I have several times been a guest at Preece’s private dinner parties,” Casir said. “Hanar has graced my cock more than once.”

“This is me switching places. You can fuck her all you want and not bother me,” Kayla grumped, lifting up so Hanar could scoot backwards. “Just be quiet so I can sleep.”

Hanar shimmied out of her nightdress to be naked, and reached behind to stroke his hardness. Angling her buttocks backward toward him to offer herself, she was at once invaded. Casir wasted no time filling her, but was not rough in his use. When she reached climax, she contained herself in a shiver with breath held.

“Come with me,” he said when Kayla snored, and took Hanar by the hand.

Through the back door to the porch, to the cot always there for sleeping on hot nights. Pulled away from the wall for more room, he sat on it.

“Suck me for a while. Kayla hates doing it so I don’t make her often.”

“Hates it? Is a Midan slave allowed to hate a sexual act?” she joked, lowering gracefully to her knees in the moonlight to begin a long and slow mouth service.

“She is from Unada and has had a very different life from you, dear. She does things because it’s her duty as wife and slave, not because she enjoys them or enjoys pleasing me. She didn’t learn sex that way and I can’t fix it. She’ll tell you herself on our voyage, I’m sure. If you like, I’ll ask Preece if you can be my second slave, to relieve Kayla of the burden except when she wants to. Or maybe she’ll like your oral pleasures and participate more. Then you’ll have a home and not need to be concerned with where you’ll be or what you’ll do. And you can be the mouth that lives under my work table to service me through my day. I have always enjoyed your mouth. And if I recall, you like how I spank. I can’t do that with Kayla. She cannot be struck in any way, even for pleasure. You can be my sex slave and she my wife.”

Hanar forgot her horrible mission for a moment. As of the moment Axlar had given her his orders, she technically belonged to Preece. But there was nothing bad about contingency plans. That he thought it up rather than she would go a long way when they talked to Preece. Master wanting slave was far less like a slave plotting and manipulating to get what she wanted.

Cheek resting on his thigh, she smiled up at him.

“I think I would like that, Master Casir.”

“Show me how much you would like that and we’ll live with the assumption that he will let me keep you.”

A more vigorous mouth and after he spent, he took her inside to the empty bedroom for a good hard spanking behind a closed door. One she desperately needed, and let the pain of his hard hand take her over the edge into a purge of tears.

“What’s wrong?” Casir asked when he first noticed she was crying.

“It’s okay, Master,” she sniffed, turning her head on her arms. “I don’t want it to end. Truly. I’ve not had good days this week. I just need to cry.”

He gave her something to cry about, spanking as hard and fast as he wanted through her tears until she finally stopped crying and lay still and silent across his thighs and the hard wood floor.

“Turn over onto the floor,” he said, and waited for her to move and lie with her arms overhead and wrists crossed.

Her feet planted on the surface, knees bent and up and parting wide to offer herself from eyes to puss. Her breasts were much larger than usual, full with milk.

“Do you need lubrication for your ass?” he asked.

“Not really, Master.”

“Good. It’s packed in our travel bag and I cannot fuck Kayla’s ass anyway.”

Hanar smiled up to him. 

“Please fuck my ass, Master. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

He groaned with the sudden swelling hardness of his cock.

“Keep talking.”

“If it please you, Master, to hear me say how good it would feel for you to ream my ass deep and hard until you fill it with your cum.” 

Deep and hard she got, and continued to encourage him with “More, Master, please” and “I can take you harder if it would satisfy you, Master.”

Harder he did, thrilled to his balls to indulge himself in ways he couldn’t bring himself to do to Kayla.

Read the rest of Peeper Gloriana
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00PCFX58C

—-

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Erotica: The Hunted

By 2 Comments

dominant man and beautiful submissive in car
via stock.adobe.com

I had plans with the girls, my girls. Dinner and some dancing. I know you wanted me to stay and play, but these plans were made ages ago. Begrudgingly, you accepted that I wouldn’t drink at the club and you can pick me up. Myself and my four work friends always have a fantastic time. They are my freedom. We talk and support each other about the important stuff and dance our problems away a couple of times a year. I’m just one of the girls.

You once said I was a lot of woman. I’m pretty much an Amazonian. In the day to day, I’m a fixer, I coordinate and manage my corner of the universe. My work makes a difference. I’m five-foot-nine, red hair and hazel eyes and I like shoes. Moreover, I love high heel shoes. I feel sexy and powerful in them.  It is the only public intersection of my kink and the vanilla world.  

It’s just after 11 when I notice you at the bar. You’re kinda’ hard to miss, your six- four muscle defined frame with swarthy features is rather imposing. Your position at the end of the bar gives you a view of the entire dance floor. Like a puppy seeing her owner I make my way over and come to you. My hair is pulled into a ponytail, my sheer black blouse is fantastic for dancing, I don’t get too warm. It helps that my boobs look amazing and if I am dancing, boobs are bouncing. You do not look impressed. I suck in my bottom lip instinctually as I read your expression. I’m trying to suppress my smile and giggle of satisfaction. I like you this way.  It makes our play more intense. 

“Thanks for coming to get me. I want to stay a little longer, ok?” Your right hand is at my waist. I reach up and kiss your cheek. Dramatically, I bat my eyelashes and pout a little. I know it annoys you, but I’m feeling brave. 

“Really?” you reply flatly. 

I am effervescent and bubbly. You’re less than amused. My response brings out the brat in me, I kiss you on the cheek and return to the dance floor. The girls are where I left them, we have a yelling conversation about your arrival, I point you out and they all wave. You are stoic and tip your head towards us. When will I have pushed your patience to the limit? You are used to weekends being all yours. I hug the girls farewell and join you. I’m still giddy, playful, and fearless. You put your hand in the small of my back and maneuver through the crowd. This softens me; there is a shift in the dynamic between us. As we get to the car, I start to take my hair down. I know you like to down and free flowing. 

“No! leave it, I like it.” Your growl is low but undeniable. 

This gives me pause. This is new.

As I get in the car, my thin leather collar is waiting on the seat. I retrieve it and slip it on as I sit. The side and back windows are tinted, so very little can be seen by the world around us. As I turn to put on my seat belt you take my ponytail and wrap in around your hand. The yank catches me off guard and breaks my composure.

“Ahgh, What the fuck?” I have no choice but to go where you pull. 

You pull me to you and growl as you squeeze my breast, it hurts, I grit my teeth and flinch, refusing to give you the squeal you want. The buttons of my blouse strain against my breasts as you cup and squeeze my breast, holding my eyes, watching and waiting for a sign of surrender. The thought of never getting the wrinkles out flicks through my mind. I am not as present as you would like. I taste blood. I am biting under my bottom lip to deprive you of what you want. You slowly pinch my nipple, tears fill my eyes, the pain is excruciatingly sweet. I can’t fight it. I know there will be a set of bruises tomorrow as you release me. You start the car, I put on my seat belt, you drive me back to the cabin where we will continue, you the hunter, me the prey. 

The Inking

By 3 Comments

submissive woman gets tattoo on ribs
via stock.adobe.com

She could feel the nerves set in the moment her eyes opened.
Yes, He owns me, she told herself.  Yes, He has married me as part of His claiming.  Yes, He has had this body pierced because it pleases Him.
But she had always felt that ink was different.  Legal contracts can be dissolved, albeit with some difficulty.  Piercings can grow in.  Tattoo removal is a lot more challenging.
So as permanent as those things are, she had both longed for and dreaded ink since He claimed her.
Yes, there was a sense of dread.  Will this ink be bad luck?  Am I etching what could become a painful daily reminder of loss onto my skin?  What if He changes His mind?  She questioned herself unmercifully.
People do that, after all.  Leave.
So up until the moment the ink touched her skin, there was a sense that there was time to turn back.  There was time to ask Him four more times if He is sure He wants her forever before we arrived at the deserted shop for the appointment.
He didn’t disappoint her, though.  He reassured her like it was His profession.  In a way, perhaps it is.
Warm thumb brushing across her knuckles, He drew her hand to His lips.  The exhale of breath contained the quietest words, the weight of Atlas in their echo.
Mine.  Forever.
 
All that in a breath.
Inside, she had to pee four times while He and the artist finalized the design and put the stencil on twice.  She knew it was just nerves and wished she’d had something to calm them, but nothing that would have helped would have been good for the process of inking.
Because of health issues, the ink was just for her.  I carry this art for both of us, he had said.  It is a weighty thought.
She tucked one hand into the small of her back, feeling the texture beneath her fingers as thoughts raced.  There is still plenty of time to change my mind.  The thought comforted her.
Suddenly, breasts bared to the empty room, the needle was on her skin.  Her exhale was shaky as she groped for purchase with her free hand, finding Him beneath her palm.  He lovingly lifted the hand and entwined her fingers with His own.
For the next hour, her eyes seldom left His face.  There were moments of conversation she tried to focus on, but she was mostly far away.  She found her happy place until the artist reached her floating ribs, and her vision swam a little as the pain that had been humming along at endorphin-triggering levels suddenly spiked.
“Just breathe normally,” she heard in her ear.  Then a few minutes later, “Are you going pass out?”
He laughed.  He knew her pain face well.  “She’s fine,” He responded, her glazed eyes meeting His.  The artist, understanding the collar, smiled and continued.
Her eyes roamed His face.  His lips whispered for her, but she struggled to make sense of them.
Good girl and then Mine a few minutes later.  Something in His proprietous gaze made her suspect the next sex they had would be full of rough hair pulling and urgent biting, ankles held captive so He could see His new mark.
A pause came in the buzzing, and something cold touching her skin.  She mositened her lips.  “Are you done?” she asked.
The artist laughed.  “Men don’t generally like it when you ask that,” he responded.
The buzzing began again, catching the tender spots he wasn’t pleased with.  After cleaning, he gently pressed a bandage to her skin and she absently slid her soft shirt over her head, piercings obvious in its thin, draped fabric.
He took care of the details as she floated along, awash in the endorphins that made the hour bearable.
They got in the car.  “Show me,” He commanded.
She lifted her shirt obediently.
He made a sound close to growling.  He crushed her mouth to His, rough in His passion.  Mine, she heard again, only this time she felt it between her breasts and tasted it on His lips.

Journey of a Wayward Sub

By 2 Comments

female sub tied suspended upside down with marks
via stock.adobe.com

**This Started out as a very odd dream. When the dream ended, I was asked by my Dom to continue the story to its natural end. This is the result**

* *

We were chosen by random lottery. So, all the Doms and Masters would take their subs to this stadium and a lottery was drawn. They had a group of unowned subs. If your number was drawn (which was reflected by the registry numbers on the subs tags) then they would go to the center of the field. The sub would strip, their collar removed, and temporary cuffs and collar assigned to the camp were placed. Then the D/M would pick an unowned sub to satisfy their needs for the length of time the sub(s) was gone. The D/M was also told that if they so chose, they could choose to keep the temp sub in lieu of their chosen one.

****

They hooked leashes to our collars, one by one as we were called. 37 of us in total this time. Four males, the rest female. They waited until the stadium emptied before we were moved. I can only imagine it was to show us we were replaceable as we watched our Masters leave with our replacements. Not one of them looked back.

****

The windows were black on the bus they put us on. I thought they were tinted but as I’m moved up the steps there is no light. I’m walked over to a seat and sat. Almost tenderly they move my cuffs against the wall. Did you know they were magnetic Sir? No, you probably wouldn’t. I doubt they have ever subjected you to this kind of travel. A strap is placed across my thighs to keep me attached to the seat. I can hear one of the girls crying. She is trying to be quiet but little stops the sound from traveling. From somewhere in the dark we are warned to keep quiet or we will be gagged until we reach our destination. I miss you already Master. I wonder what lies they’ve told you about the camp. This is nothing like the propaganda they have spouted for so many years

****

Have you ever sat in complete darkness, Sir? I can hear the gravel on the road, the soft purr of the engine, my own heartbeat in my ears. We have been driving for a long time. I lean my head against the blackened windows. I need sleep. I cant change whats going to happen so attention his point the worst it could be is not waking up at all. There are no rituals to help me drift, no tenderness to ease the panic. It is simply time and darkness.

****

I don’t know how long i was in the dark. I opened my eyes to the handlers removing us one by one. I’m one of the last to be removed. He leaned in close to me, warning me to be compliant. Anything else would result in a swift correction of behavior. I stepped off the bus. My feet sunk into the deep, cold blades of grass. I blinked several times trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. We are on a large lot of land. There are trees for miles. A large two story house stands before us, the whole front is glass from roof to foundation. I’m nervous again. Two weeks is a very long time to be away.

They lined us up just inside the house. With a steely soft voice, a female ordered us to kneel. Down I went, my eyes firmly on the ground, my back straight, and my hands loosely on my thighs. I could hear the clack of heels but i resisted the urge to look. From the sound of flesh against flesh, i realize someone else didn’t.

I’ve never realized how humiliating it is to be so bare in front of anyone other than you Sir. Hands moved across my chest, up and across my shoulders. My chin was grasped and my head forced up. My mouth was yanked open. Then i was pushed to the ground. My forehead touched the floor, my ass in the air. I was told to hold myself open. I could feel their eyes burning into my skin.

All I wanted to do was run. Instead, I simply close my eyes and wait for it to be over. I can feel the cold sensation of lube before something blunt pushes against my ass. It burns. There is no finesse, no kindness in the movements. I feel so full and stretched and it hurts. I feel the pushing stop and what I can only figure is a plug stays put. I am pulled back up to my knees and then they begin to divide us into groups. There are three others in my group. They are as mute as I am. I prefer your instruction. It comes with clear, concise instruction. Here, the handlers speak so little and assume we know their thoughts. I’m not sure I am going to survive.

No one knows what happens here. They hook our leashes together again and nearly drag us through the vast house. It is a labyrinth of a house and down three flights of stairs we find our darkness. Did you tell I fear the dark Sir? Is this a punishment for a slight i am unaware I’ve committed?

One flickering bulb hangs from the ceiling with four military cots against the four corners. I half expected hooks to hang us from but the walls are bare. There is no life in this room. I expect that’s why we were brought here. To make us lose hope.

One night down Sir. Thirteen to go.

****

I miss affection. We both know how i crave your touch, your kindness, your praise. I crave it almost as much as i crave your Sadistic side. But its different here.

“Good Girl” is said almost mockingly. I was volunteered to show my talents this morning. I was singled out because I did not rise at first call. We both know how deep I sleep. Apparently that is unacceptable for a submissive.

Rule 1: I am always to be ready to serve your needs, of any kind, at any time of day.

Apparently, I am weak at what I do. I’ve been selected for private sessions with the handlers.

****

Rule 2: I will always respect my betters.

More than likely this is why I am in trouble. I’ve refused to call them anything other than Handler. They are not my Master nor my Mistress. This is, as I’ve been told quite violently, unacceptable.

I have been restricted. I’m not sure how long I have been kneeling here. I am unable to feel anything below my waist now. If not for this contraption, my body would have given out long ago.

Im watching the other slaves fight. Well, its wrestling really. But there is no mercy here.

****

Rule 3: A submissive should always be ready to shield their Dom with their body.

What this really means is that we should be able to take what ever strikes our skins without complaint.

We are toys Sir.

This is not a training ground for us. I don’t think we are ever to make it back. Will you remember me if I disappear Sir? I’ve always been willful and now it is my worst attribute.

I’ve been used more than i can count now. I fear what they are prepping us for. Is this where i will spend the rest of my days?

Should i swallow my pride and allow them to break me Sir? If it means i can go home?

I’m beginning to wonder.

Three days down–I think. After all, its hard to count the hours in the dark.

****

I haven’t walked since I’ve been here Sir. My knees are bruised and bloody from crawling. I hate it on a good day for you, I despise doing it for them. I compose these letters to You in my head but I wish I could just hear You. Just for a moment.

Will you still want me when I am so jaded and broke? Will You take your pleasure from me knowing I’ve choked and gagged on an unknown amount of men? Will You touch me knowing that even though you cannot see it, I will have been torn and bruised and brutalized simply because I would not form my lips to call another Master?

I hope so.

****

Tonight I am outside on the lawn. I’ve been here since sun up. They wont let me sleep. My arms are pulled taunt above my head, hooked to a pulley system in the tree. Occasionally they let me down to my knees but I am currently struggling on my tip toes.

There are weights on my nipples. They burn. I can feel the pull in my shoulders and my back.

They wont touch me yet. I’m still squirming too much. Once I find my center and try to zone through the pain, that’s when I will draw their attention. I will feel the crop to my pussy or too my feet to make me jump. After all, if I didn’t flinch I wouldn’t be in as much pain.

Rule 5: i will accept what i am given and be grateful for it.

Does that include getting hosed down instead of being allowed to shower Sir?

The answer is yes. It only took me six hours to concede that answer.

****

Are you proud Sir?

I look a right mess. At least, I think I do. There are tear tracks, involuntary. Sometimes the sting is too much. There are no safewords here. I think that’s why so few subs return. There were no promises in the lottery that said we come back undamaged or sane…or that we come back at all.

Did you know rule 4 is the same as one of yours?

Rule 4: No biting

You understand if you could read these words, that I made a decision. I was so tired Sir. So tired and cold and sore and sick. I was smart enough to not bite the cock as it fucked my mouth raw. I was not so gentle to his thigh when he wiped his fluids across my face. I drew blood.

Then they drew blood on me.

****

It dawns on me, a breath of life, as i lay there. The more I fight, the less likely I am to see You again. I’ve never been good at dealing with being left alone. Sometimes I wonder if I am easy to read or You have sold my secrets to the devil. As my endurance gets better, my punishments only get worse.

I’ve had no one to soothe me. No one to tether me. This isn’t play. This is cruelty. Cruelty I’ve asked for from You.

So why is it so hard to accept?

That’s easy. Because it isn’t You.

****

I can hear the crunching of leaves. My eyes pop open. They are still a distance from me. I bring my battered body up to a kneel. My hands are cuffed in front of me, chained to the base of a tree where i was left last night. Its not even dawn yet but i have managed some rest.

I keep my eyes down and my back as straight as i am able, just as i did on day one.

I’m going to try Sir. Because i want to go home.

I can see boots stop in front of me. They are black leather. I like them less than yours. And Sir, they severely needed to be shined.

“Lick them.”

My eyes close the tightly. I knew it was coming. I’ve earned not only the humiliation but they are showing me my place. Never to question. Never to hesitate.

I lean forward, trying to keep my balance. I have to strain forward. He stands just beyond my comfortable reach. Between the bonds and the position, I’m sure i will crash forward. I stick my tongue out and reach the tip of the boots. The leather is smooth yet well worn. I can taste the dirt dusted across it. I want to curl in on myself and stop this but i cant…i wont. I continue to lick–long, slow licks, shining the material to the best of my ability. As I switch boots, i feel a sharp thwack on my ass.

Its the crop. I hate when he wields it. But i don’t cry this time. He keeps the pace for a good ten minutes or so before he stops and steps away from me.

He wraps his hand in my hair ans pulls my head back to meet his eyes. “Do you have something you would like to say, slut?”

My mind is screaming at me to spit at him. To fight and scream. Instead, i cave…as i swore i never would.

“Thank you Sir for allowing me to clean your boots.”

He drops my head and left me kneeling there alone.

Then the tears start.

****

I’ve been allowed inside Sir. Its the first time in three days. I am halfway through my time here. I’ve had no human interaction with anyone other than the Handlers. I see the others, performing various acts, but I am kept segregated. It wears on me.

The plug they placed in me has been replaced with beads. They stretch me less but they also move with me more. I feel them with every movement.

So far, today has been my easiest. I am spending my day sucking cock. As much as I despise this place, my mouth still waters at being allowed to lick and suck.

I am kneeled over a small device. It looks like a black cushion but in the center is a vibrator. It sits against my clit. I am free of bonds and am to show my understanding of rule 6.

Rule 6: A submissive shall exert a firm level of self control in any circumstance.

I keep my hands behind my back, my right hands holding my left wrist. I start licking the cock in front of me. Soft, light licks to the head. I circle my tongue around and gently nudge the tip of my tongue against the slit. I flatten my tongue and push firmly against the shaft until I reach the balls. I gently suck on them. It is a weird sensation that i love.

I let them go with a pop and move back to the tip. I suck firmly before sliding down to take the entire cock in my mouth. I make sure to keep my teeth covered. I’m taking my time. We will see who gives in first.

I’m in a very unique spot Sir. The bead have been replaced with the plug again. Its rubber and feels thicker than the first. There is a vibrating egg in my pussy and a dildo in my mouth to keep me quiet. I am bent over a cold metal table. It reminds me of an autopsy table. It is shiny enough that i can see movement behind me but not clear enough to see what he is holding. My hands are pulled taunt above my head and secured to the table legs. Strapped to my thigh is a vibrating wand. It sits right at the edge of my clit. It teases me and my juices are running down my legs. I’ve been here a while now. My body shivers from the sensations. My pussy is throbbing and I desperately want to cum. But I need more Sir. I need pressure. I need pain. I-I n-need….permission.

****

My body tensed with the first swing. I was distracted Sir. So as soon as I felt the wood hit my cheeks and drive the plug into me, I knew what this lesson was.

Rule 7: A submissive should always be attentive when engaged with their Dominant.

I had allowed my mind to wander. I feel so full and the vibrations are overwhelming. I can feel how swollen my clit is. I tried to push back but that earned me a second and third whack. I couldn’t even cry out with my mouth stretched and full as it was.

Four. Five. Six.

It hurts. It hurts so bad. The plug keeps shifting inside me. My body is sweating with the effort of trying to relax. I know that every flinch and tensing only makes it hurt more.

Seven. Eight.

My ass burns and the skin feels hot. There are tears running down my face and a puddle of drool on the table below me. I’m trying to breathe, to relax, to pay attention.

Nine.

Ten.

Fuck.

I feel the egg pulled from my pussy and without hesitation, a cock pushed into me. My ass burns from the friction and my pussy is so sensitive. My tummy is pushing into the edge of the table. I’m expecting to see bruises tomorrow.

He pushed deep in me and stopped. Fully seated, I suddenly felt the wand pushed firmly against my clit. I could feel myself contracting around his cock, my stomach clenching. I screwed my eyes tight and tried to hold back.

Self control.

Self control.

“Cum.” and all my control disappeared.

****

I’ve never been one for the silence. I have trouble being alone. The longer I am there, alone with only my thoughts, the worse it gets. First I start they fidget. Little movements that only your sharp eyes catches. Then my eyes shift and my hands clench. My breathing becomes more shallow and I start to wonder. I wonder what I did wrong. The silence is always a punishment.

Here, though, it is a way of living. I can hear the cries of the other submissives. I can hear their training. I can hear the chaos. But, in my room, a solitary spot at the far end of the grounds, away from the actual house, I no longer connect to the sound. I zone through it.

So, I’ve taken to talking to myself. I’ve taken to reflecting on life…and training. I write these imaginary letters to you Sir, knowing you will never see them. I talk to you to keep me warm in the nights. This has been far from easy.

I’m trying. I wonder often if you would be ashamed of my actions those first few days. I am ten days in now and it took seven for me to stop fighting. Does that mean I have wasted this opportunity? Does that matter when neither of us chose to send me here? I wonder if you would still proudly claim I was yours knowing how I struggled. After all, it took months for you to tame me. Here, I’ve done it in a fraction of the time.

My submission is important to me. It took everything I had to lay it before you and offer myself. I figure that’s why I’m fighting so hard. I didn’t choose to submit to the handlers. It was a choice that was taken from me. But I’ve come to the realization that there are things I can be taught, from others, that can improve my submission to you.

So, as I sit here in the dark, humming a lullaby to soothe the fear, I’ve finally accepted why I am here…and what it will take to go home.

****

This is torture Sir. I thought You were Sadistic but they have proven there are others who are worse.

Rule 8: A submissive should be able to complete any task assigned without distraction.

Have you ever listened to a song on repeat because it speaks to you or comforts you or simply because you enjoy it? I have. There are many instances where I can listen to a single song for weeks. I have never, however, been subjected to them while working.

They are playing Disney songs Sir. My guilty pleasure. I’ve been told I am to tune them out. The volume is loud enough I can feel the Lion King thumping in the floor boards. I cannot sing along. I cannot dance.

I am to tune it out.

The task is relatively simply Sir. I am to clean the house. Its almost comforting. Of course, as I’ve been yet allowed to stand, everything is washed with a washcloth, toothbrush, and bucket. So, not my favorite.

Every so often one of the handlers comes in. Sometimes it is to purposefully track mud across my clean floors. Sometimes it is do be serviced. Most of the time it is to be distracting.

Poking and prodding me. Crops, paddles, hands…the implements change, the distraction doesn’t.

I have a deadline for when it is to be done by. I have no timer or clock to keep me on track. That’s part of the challenge.

After all, I am a service oriented submissive at home. If I am abiding by the rules, I shouldn’t need a clock to get everything done in time.

Right Sir?

****

I failed Sir. I was unable to complete my tasks on time. I tried. I pushed myself but I failed. I want to tell you it was because of all the interruptions but that is only an excuse.

I’m disheartened. Even without you here, I feel like I’ve disappointed you.

Rule 9: A submissive will accept that failure happens and endeavor to learn from it.

Rule 10: A submissive will never give excuses for her shortcomings. She will own up to her mistakes without hesitation and accept the corrections given.

I’ve been writing these rules for hours.

I cried Sir. I cried when they told me I had failed. I am guessing that I was not meant to finish the tasks. I was set up to fail so I would learn to accept it and move on.

Rule 11: Apologies are only meant to be given with heartfelt regret and a clearly stated reason as to why.

The more I have to recite these rules, the more I expect you to appear. I feel like you are watching Sir. I feel like you are feeding them my deepest fears, my darkest insecurities, and my biggest failures.

This is tailored to my rebellions.

Are the Handlers really that good or are You there Sir?

Three days to go. Maybe then I will find out if my suspicions are correct.

****

I have the worst balance Sir. I suppose I am meant to be graceful and ornate, skilled enough to make it through a crowd of people for service without being noticed. I am always to be on call and ready to serve.

Have you ever tried to walk on your knees Sir? To shuffle forward at a moderate pace while trying to hold tray service?

I am tightly holding a pipe like tube in my mouth. It is connected to a tray with drinks on it. Both my arms are out at my sides with my palms up, also holding trays, though these have food on them.

I am to stay still. I am to move only if told. Every shift in my position brings the items closer and closer to spilling.

This is torture.

****

Rule 12: A reward is earned and is never an expectation.

Did you know Sir that the more interest i show in something the less i get it?

I’ve expressed to you multiple times how I love to use my mouth. I’ve learned here that the love I have does lessen slightly with boot worship but is not wholly unbearable. I’ve also learned that I have a slight fondness related to rimming but my ultimate love lies with oral. Be it man or woman, i love the feel, the taste, everything. I enjoy sucking lightly on a woman’s clit while you watch, hearing her moan like a whore. I like swallowing you whole and tasting your cum on my tongue.

When I close my eyes and imagine being home, it is easier to perform those same actions here.

However, my enthusiasm for it, compared to my overall behavior, had the privilege stripped from me.

Even the gags changed. Now I have my mouth pulled open with a metal O ring. It does not allow my tongue anywhere to lick or suck.

I am impulsive Sir. I tried to lick one of the Handlers as they came by. I got one swipe in before the back of his hand connected to my face.

No words were uttered. They weren’t needed. I knew I was in the wrong. My whole body dropped in acceptance. I’ve only made the wait longer. I’ve only made the privilege harder to earn.

I am learning Sir. It just doesn’t seem to be fast enough.

****

It has been a long two weeks Sir. They have us all lined up outside on the lawn. This is the first time I have seen other subs since that first night. We are kneeling as expected.

Even me Sir. My eyes are down, my back is straight, and my palms are up, resting lightly on my thighs. I’ve not needed to be gagged in two days.

There are only a few of us here. I’m not sure what happened to everyone. Only one of the males remains and there are probably less than ten females left, including me.

I’ve been difficult Sir. I know that. But I’ve learned my rules and my lessons.

I was so afraid of losing myself. Of losing my personality. I didn’t want to be a doormat again. I had trouble separating my submission from myself.

But, being here, has brought me away from those fears. I ache from the depth of my lessons. My eyes have cried more than I thought possible. But I’ve learned the most important rule so far.

Rule 13: A submissive does not need to understand a Dominant’s decision to trust that it is for the best

****

Its dark Sir. The sky is beautiful out here. There are no other souls for miles and you can see the stars so clearly. It never dawned on me what I was missing back home.

I spend most of my time inside and I never realized it. Though, that is neither of our faults really. Between the fact that I cannot leave your property unaccompanied and the sun down curfew, i would never be able to see such sights in town.

Do not think I am unhappy Sir. You are both a kind and caring Master and I enjoy my days with you. I accept what i have and am grateful for it. But I will hold this moment close to my heart for a fair length of time. This is a freedom and beauty that cannot be replicated with so many people around.

The blindfold is being slipped on. Its not as frightening as it was on day one. In fact, it mostly feels heavy. I’ve been without clothes or adornments for so long now that it is uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

I hope this means I get to go home soon.

I miss you.

I hope you can say the same.

****

They have removed our collars Sir. They have removed all our adornments. My wrists and ankles are bare.

I have missed my own cuffs and collar. I have missed the comforting weight of them. Even though these last two weeks i’ve worn foreign marks of ownership, they felt wrong. But being without any feels worse.

We were told why they were taken. This is our final test. They expect perfect obedience on the way home. They expect absolute silence–a time of reflection.

Then, when we arrive back to the place in which we were taken, we would present ourselves for inspection.

Then, and only then, will we find if our Dominants have decided to take each of us back.

I’m worried.

My body is painted in foreign colors and marks. I know I am a masochist. I also know that the marks normally on my body are ones you know well. You take care that I stay undamaged.

My body is littered with more blue and purple than any of the other subs. You can see the marked up skin where my collar and leash were rubbing from being yanked so often. You can see the rope burns on my wrists and ankles that were previously covered by my cuffs.

These are the marks of a fighter. These are the marks of someone who spent most of the last fourteen days in trouble.

I wont need to say a word when I kneel before you. You will know in a moment what happened.

I wonder though….do I get in extra trouble for damaging your property by my bad decisions?

****

I knelt forward for my final inspection at this camp. The last of the devices are removed. I feel empty Sir. Then again, that has more to do with me being slutty than having the beads removed.

My body throbs, in a good way. I can feel the pulsing between my legs. I am preparing to suffer Sir. Heat is coming and I have yet to know if I am suffering alone this time.

We are loaded onto the bus, one by one. Our eyes remained darkened. I wonder if they fear we will know their location. It seems a futile fear. I doubt anyone wants to come back. I know I wish to be as far from here as possible.

The reason has changed from the first nights. First I wanted to leave because I feared that being away from you would have you forget me. Then, it was because of the restrictions. I’ve always asked you to be stricter and then when it was laid before me, I rebelled.

Now, I simply don’t want to need to be here anymore.

We were drawn by lottery. A lottery that very few survive.

As the bus comes to a slow stop, the gravel crunching under the weight of the tires, I am ready as I will ever be.

Fear is fluttering in my stomach. My nerves are vibrating with nervous energy. I breathe long, slow breaths. It is time.

I walked down the steps of the bus and forward until I am told to stop. I can hear the others. Their Dominants and Masters are talking to the handlers in low tones.

One girl is crying. I cannot see why but her sobs are heart wrenching. I hear another humming softly. I can only hope it is a happy song.

The sounds begin to quiet again. A single snap and I am on my knees. I close my eyes when I feel hands on my face. Slowly the blindfold is removed. I blink rapidly towards the ground so I can see again.

Its still dark. I’m not sure why that surprises me but it does.

I can see your boots Sir. All i want to do is lay my head on them and beg you to take me home. I want to beg you to hug me and kiss me. I want to beg for you to touch me in any way.

I don’t move.

I can hear the handler start to speak and you silence him.

“I can see how her time has gone.” Your voice is steady and low but hard to read.

My heart sinks.

Your hand touches me hair and combs through it gently. Your fingers trail down my face and place pressure under my chin until I am looking at you. I’m biting my lip to stay silent. I can feel the tears on my lashes.

Your hand runs across my throat before you pull back and reach into your pocket.

I see it. My collar.

You place it around my neck with practiced ease and slip the leash into its ring.

You tug me to my feet and give me a soft hug. Your lips brush my ear and you tell me everything I’ve ever needed to learn in one sentence.

“Rule 14: Whether on or off, my collar is always there.”

THE END

About the Author

My name is Joji.  I am 29 years old currently and I have been in and around the kink community about 15 years.I am a collared submissive to Magick42.  I am also a Daddy to a wonderful babygirl, and have been for more than three years now and I find it very fulfilling.  I am being mentored in and being taught electroplay.  I am a masochist at heart and thoroughly love impact play, especially caning.  I enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on and am a die hard Harry Potter and Doctor Who fan.  I am also the secretary for a group in Idaho called Moscow S.P.A.R.K.E (Simply Providing Another Route to Kink Education).  It is our mission to teach safe practices to those new to the community and give them a safe haven to ask questions and learn without judgement.  We accept all kinks and all we ask in return is respect between all our members.

Three Perfect Freckles In The Center Of Her Foot

By 2 Comments

Three perfect freckles in the center of her foot, just above the strap which held her toes into the strappy sandal. Two leather straps held her foot in place. One around the ankle acting as a choker for her exquisitely narrow ankles, the other across her toes. Brazilian red polish accented her straight toes, each one was the smallest bit shorter than its neighbor, the pinky toe was a shy little school girl barely tucked in behind her bigger sister.  The four-inch heel was the ideal height to display the curve of her arch. Just high enough to imagine is fingers or member finding its way between the shoe and her foot. The soft warm flesh of his cock growing as he fondled her shoe and foot. 

With tenderness he restrained his passion, kneeling in front of her. He blushed as she planted the heel between his thighs and her sandal-clad toe rested on his crotch. His dress pants and boxers did very little to contain the now throbbing cock. It pressed against the fabric as she tic-tocked the bottom of her shoe there.  His knuckles whitened as he pressed his fists into the rug, embracing the pleasure this simple movement brought him. His head bowed he watched as she dragged her foot back, arching her foot so only the inside of her foot drew along his thigh before gliding back up his thigh. He drew a deep breath and exhaled a moan of ecstasy as the full pressure of her foot pressed and rubbed his cock in its fabric cage. He held his tongue fearing she would withdraw her attention. This was more than he could have hoped for. She had agreed he could massage and hold her feet. This gift of attention was exhilarating. 

She slides forward in her chair, extending her leg and dragging her toe up his chest. The tip of her shoe barely touching his chin. He raised his eyes to meet hers. She smiled and her eyes twinkled with mischief and seduction. “Yes, you may” was all she said.

He rose to a full kneeling position and held her foot like a priest holds a challis. He held her arch against his cheek inhaling her scent. Treasuring this intimacy. He supported her calf and felt the weight of her leg as she relaxed in his hand. She trusted him. He made eye contact, she held his gaze and he maneuvers her foot for his pleasure. She licked her lips and grinned as she bit her lower lip.  He kissed the top before rotating it and tracing the arch with his tongue. The ankle strap required deft fingers not clumsy teeth to be undone. 

Charles adored her body and her feet were the most erotic part of her. The softness of the arch, the tone of the muscles from pointed toes. The red toe polish shimmering against her alabaster skin all connecting to a flawlessly toned and defined calf. Today, wrapped in a sheer nude stocking. He cradled and caressed her foot against his body, fingering the taut toned leg made his cock thump. As her held one leg, she slide her toes back and forth across his crotch, he rocked and rose slightly to increase the pressure.

“Oh, baby.” Charles laid her foot next to the other on his lap, sliding both hands under her skirt  and bringing her ass to the edge of the chair. The top of her stocking visible he  kissed his way from her knees to her sex. Her knees hooked the arms of the chair and he slid her panties to the side, holding his mouth against her cunt he inhaled her scent. The heat from his mouth made her ache, she raised her pelvis to him aching for his touch. His tongue was electrifying. His hands cradles and massaged her ass. Her toes curled. He nuzzled and licked her wetness. He longed to slide his cock deep inside and satisfy her, for now tasting the nectar of her honey pot was enough, he thought. 

“That will be all.” She said as she pushed his head away and paced her stocking feet together on the floor. She stood, straightened her skirt and tucked her hair behind her left ear. 

“Yes, ma’am, “ He adjust the bulge in his crotch tucked his shirt in and stood at the door. “You have court at 4:00 and a dinner reservation at 8:30, will there be anything else?”

She was already back at her desk with her reading glasses perched on her nose. “Pass me the paten leather ones for court.” She didn’t look up as she spoke, just pointed to the corner of her desk.  The strappy sandals would be returned to their place in the cupboard. He collected the paten and replaced them with the sandals, lingering over them as he shut them away until the next time she needed him. 

 “That will be all, I’m done with you today.” He silently turned the lock and left, not lookback, he closed the door behind him and went back to his office. Amelia was there sorting papers. 

“Sir, I thought you were in a meeting until 3:00?” she said somewhat confused. 

“No Amelia, it turns out I wasn’t as needed as I thought. I can meet with the other partners after all, thank you.”

Excerpt from DameTylerRose’s upcoming novel DREAM ON (expected in May).

By 2 Comments

“How may I please you, Empress?” he asked.

“With your mouth and your hands until I can’t cum anymore.”

He smiled and hopped to his feet. “That could take hours.”

“Indeed,” she replied, dropping the slinky nightgown onto the floor.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bringing a foot up to open herself. He looked on that wet flesh, reached a hand down to stroke up her t high, his mouth following.

“My Empress, with my mouth and hands, I worship you. I offer my body for use in your private pleasure,” he said.

Kisses up her thigh, hands soft and sliding over her skin. She was flush and plump in the labia. Slick and shimmering, with clitoris rising thick and round from its folds as his fingers parted the top half of her labia. Shew as still lush from her recent pregnancy, with full breasts and rounded belly.

He was delightfully skilled, and knew he was hitting the right spots when she needed to lie back on the bed. He pushed her knees far up and held them open as the Dragon would do. Channel shortened, his tongue delved deep into her to find and stimulate the textured G-spot behind her pelvic bone.

He loved the taste of her ejaculate, and knew how to make her squirt repeatedly. Her low groan and sudden shudder spurred him to more intense sucking down on her fattened clit. He gave her another good, hard cum that had her gasping for breath.

“Get up here. I need a cock,” she said a good 90 minutes into his attentions.

He didn’t have to be told twice. He could count on one hand the number of times his cock had known her. Always her anus. Always when her husbands were unavailable. Always with him on his back and she facing away. He was a disembodied cock for her to sate herself on, thrilled to be exactly that.

A slap of lubricant applied to his cock by her unkind hand and she was already lowering herself. Minute penetration of the tip, slowly up and down, taking millimeters more each time until she had cracked herself open. Jozef was not to help her by lifting his hips. Was not to participate at all. He couldn’t help his throaty roan, however. The reaming of two vigorous husbands had done nothing to stretcher her anus. Every single time, she’d been just as tight around him as ever.

Her muscles gripped tighter still as she began to ride. Long minutes he wished would never end as she rocked forward and back to take him all the way.

“I need harder,” she said, and was off him to put her face to the foot of the bed. “Fuck my ass hard as you can.”

Jozef said nothing, not about to ruin his moment. She’d never given this order before. He’d never been allowed to pump his hips toward her. He penetrated the same way she impaled herself, with repeated shallow strokes that deepened until he was stripping her out his whole length.

“Harder, dammit!”

He obliged, recognizing well those cries he made come from her. Many times, he had heard them under Dorn’s force, or the Dragon’s. She was a relentless, demanding lover. Insatiable and dynamic, like no woman he had known.

His climax nearing, knowing damn well he could not stop it, he used Jerome’s secret weapon of a trick. Left arm under her chest, he pulled her upright. Other hand reaching down, he rubbed hard over her clitoris with first and second fingers. That little sink, as her gut clenched, and her arms and legs pulled in out of her control. She locked in place, unable to move, and his climax erupted into her. He gave in to those last jerking spurts, knowing the lurching of his body would make her last orgasm all the more intense.

Read the Kingdom Key series in the USA: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B074CF9399

Not in the USA? Not a problem! Just copy the product code and past it into your country’s Amazon search bar. B074CF9399

————————-

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for 30 years in private and more than 10 years in public venues. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

She enjoys crochet, coffee, and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

A Gift

By 4 Comments

“Come here.”

I lift my head up slightly and look over at him. His eyes meeting mine, those eyes, so strikingly blue. He could see me clearly, see right through my uncertainty, see the real me.

Part of me, wanting to resist. part of me, wanting to say no.  Sometimes, I do like to test the waters. 

In this moment though, I decide it is better to obey him. 

I know the consequences ..  and when ever I don’t….. maybe I shouldn’t.

I quickly force that thought out of my head. 

Without a word, I stand up from the chair where I was sitting, and walk over to him, not knowing what to expect. 

“Yes?”

He puts the book he had been reading face down on the table. 

“I would like you to go upstairs, put on the black lace outfit that I like on you.”  He paused and raised his eyebrow, “You know which one?”

“Yes.”

“And then I would like you to be a good girl, sit and wait for me.”

“Yes Sir.”

I head on upstairs, a bit nervous, a bit excited, a little squeamish.

I did what he asked.  I put on the black lace outfit that he had enjoyed so much on me. I sat on the left side of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Trying to be patient, trying to look poised. 

I’m not sure how long I sat there for, but my mind starts to wander. The last time I wore this for him… mmmm. I feel a tingling from between my legs. Aching for his touch, the tips of his two fingers tracing the opening of my soft wet lips. I graze my right breast with my hand, stopping to give my breast and nipple a squeeze and a twist, and reach down. I start to rub myself over my damp panties. How I longed to feel his tongue and lips licking, kissing and sucking on my wet hot pussy.

Who am I kidding, I can’t resist him. I exist, only to please him. To serve him, to satisfy his wants. I am his submissive and I surrender to his essence. And that is enough.

Footsteps coming up the stairs, interrupting my thoughts. I return to sitting poised, sitting ready. 

My master gently nudges the ajarred door open. Following behind him was a girl. Her hair long and black, black leather collar with a metal chain leash, and my master leading her into our bedroom. Her head slightly down in submission. 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was even holding. 

“Who is this?” I question him suspiciously.

He gives me a look of amusement. 

“This is Shio.”  

“Shio, meet your mistress.”

Shio bows her head at me. “Hello mistress, nice to meet you.”

“Why have you brought this girl here?”

“This is my gift to you for tonight, for being so well behaved lately, for being my good girl.”

Awww He brought me a gift! I can’t help but smile beamingly. I sorta hate myself a little, whenever he shows me affection, I betray myself immediately. As if that is my only purpose, to obey so as to gain his affections. Selfish and greedy on my part, I guess I deserve to be used, and abused. 

“Hi Shio, nice to meet you kitten.”

Shio smiles, almost with relief, and purrs at me. He lead Shio over to me and gives me the leather handle to her leash. 

“She is here tonight to serve you, and only you. I will not touch her. I will watch to make sure she does a good job. You, on the otherhand..”

He tilts my face up gently with his hand to meet his.

 “will make sure that all my needs are satisfied.” 

Now yanking a handful of my hair with the same hand, pulling my lips on to his, giving me a hard passionate kiss. 

I nod and manage a “mmhm” in agreement. 

“Good girl.”

Whoa, I am in over my head. I’ve never had a pet before. What do I even do??

I move across the bed to make room for Shio. Shio follows accordingly and crawls onto the bed on all fours. Nuzzling me with one side of her body. 

Damn, she is hot. Big beautiful dark eyes and false lashes, a nice size pair of breasts I anticipate burying my face in them. She moves to face me, her face getting closer and closer to mine. She looks at my lips. 

“Mistress may I kiss you please?”

So well mannered this kitten. I nod at her.

Shio presses her soft fluffy lips against mine, whoa. I have forgotten what kissing a woman feels like. I kiss back wanting more. She let out a little moan and her right hand makes its way up the left side of my body. Rubbing, squeezing my left breast and nipple, my body naturally responds. We are on our knees now, upright. My right hand exploring her body, mirroring her. 

My master is sitting from a chair in the corner of the room, watching. Watching my response, to this unexpected situation. Watching us play. 

I glance at him, over Shio’s right shoulder. my lips now moving to Shio’s neck. I nibble down her neck and bite down on her shoulder. She moans and makes her way down to my right breast. She pulls aside my black lace top just enough so that now, her lips are wrapped around my nipple, licking, sucking, nibbling my boob around my nipple. Which makes me moan and bite her again, even harder. 

Omg. We are enjoying each other so much. I can see the outline of my master’s hardening cock. Which turns me on even more. It excites me to know I am pleasing him.

He suddenly gets up and goes to the dresser. Opens our drawer of toys and takes some things out. He turns towards me and Shio. I can see he is holding a whip, a paddle, and my green jeweled butt plug.

“Choose”

“Mmm that one.” I point at the paddle. He hands it to me. I have never hit anyone with a paddle before, but I was about to find out how it would be.

“Shio, stay. You, turn around.” He orders.

I turn around. “Stick your butt up for me.”

I swallowed, a little scared. But did as told. 

“whack!” He whips me hard. “whack, whack, whack, whack” 

I squirm but Mmmm It hurt so good. I love it when he whips me. He continues to whip me till he seems satisfied. I bet my ass cheeks look nice with a red glow.

He grabs my left butt cheek and gives it a squeeze, with his right hand he takes my green jeweled butt plug and slips it between my panties and my pussy. Teasing me, for lubrication, from my own wetness. 

I feel the smooth cold metal against my skin.

He traces it up between my butt cheeks and pauses for a moment. I take a breathe and brace myself. He pushes the plug into my butthole. 

I give a little gasp. He pats me on the butt.

“Go on.”

I squirm a little as he goes to sit again.

Shio is sitting on her knees and leaning with her hands in front obediently. 

“Good kitty.” I compliment. “Does this kitty want a spanking?” I hold up the paddle with a curious smile. 

“Yes mistress, Shio loves being spanked. Please spank me really good.”

I cup the right side of her face and kiss her passionately on the lips. I let her go and she shifts forward so that her ass is facing me. She leans even more forward now, ready for me.

I caress her right ass cheek, enjoying the smooth roundness of it for just a moment, then I swing the paddle and smack her. It made a nice sound. I did it again. And again. And again. She flinches, lets out a small whimper, and squirms a little. I switch to her left ass cheek. 

“Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.”

I continue as Shio is crying out with every smack now. I rub her cute ass cheeks. And then I bite down hard on the top left one. “Ahh!” It startles her.

I turn her around to face me and kiss her. She kisses me back with need. She wants more. Our hands simultaneously reach down each other’s body. She is dripping wet .. I tease her a bit with the tips of my fingers before slipping two fingers inside her as she gasps. We are both feeling each other now. Absolutely delicious.

“Mistress will you let me taste you?”

“Yes kitten you may.”

I lay down on my back facing my master. Shio removes my panties and kisses up my thighs, leading to my sopping wet pussy. She starts licking and sucking on me. I relax my head back and moan, enjoying just being. I can feel my butt plug too.  SO good.

Master gets up and slowly removes his clothes and walks over. He could tell I was on the brink. 

“That’s enough.”

Shio stops and moves to the side. He beckons me with his finger to move closer to him. I slide closer to him, my pussy throbbing for his cock. My favorite thing. 

His hard cock in his hand, I can tell how much he wants to fuck me. He grabs my legs and slides me even closer to him. 

But wait, I really REALLY want to get a taste of him first. I sit up and lean forward. Looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“You want this? you want to suck my cock don’t you. you cockslut.”

“Yes, please master…please may I..”  I beg.

I am on all fours now, his cock in his hand right in front of me. I lean forward to lick the tip of his beautiful cock. I couldn’t help myself,  I put the head in my mouth and suck, tracing him with my tongue. Taking more and more of him in.

“Mmmm…”

Oh yeah…I definitely want this. He moans in response.

I flinch as I feel the warm sensation of Shio’s tongue between my legs. 

Omg, I’ve never experienced this before.

I suck harder, he pushes his cock deeper, hitting the back of my throat. Making me gag and moan. He grabs my hair and the back of my head, guiding me, fucking my mouth faster and harder, to his liking..

Concentrating on swallowing and breathing, I happily receive him, relishing in his sense of need. It brings me so much joy to know that I can be the cause to his pleasure. I feel him enjoying himself, I feel him enjoying me. And that makes me want to push myself to please him even more, no matter the consequences. It’s all worth it. 

“Shio that’s enough.” Shio moves back, wipes her mouth and sits on her knees obediently. 

“Watch me fuck my slave and play with yourself till you cum.” She obeys like the good pet she is 

He pulls himself back, leans down to kiss me then forcefully turns me around, grab my legs and pulls my ass towards him in doggy style. He takes his cock and slams it into me all the way in one go. I let out a gasp and scream. “Fuck!” 

The way he fills me up, is absolute, making me whole and complete.

“Look at your pretty little butt plug.” and pushes on it. I moan even more.

He begins thrusting really hard and really deep, just the way I like it. Rough and dirty. Pulling out and then in one smooth motion, all the way back in, hitting my wall, making me scream for mercy. But all I want is more, and master knows this. He knows that I am powerless against him, he knows how to push me further. The pain and the hurt just turns me on more, my want turns into need. That primal instinct, making me feel so animalistic, preyed on and being conquered. 

Master flips me over abruptly, I am now on my back, legs spread apart. I catch my breathe for just a second, before he slams himself into me again. 

Shio suddenly appears over me and kisses me, small bites down my neck, making her way to my breasts.

Sensory overload. this is in heaven. I am moaning and squirming with every thrust and every bite and trying to grab onto his cock with my pussy. And he is moaning now too.

“You dirty little slut, you like this don’t you” he growls.

“Yes! Yes!” I scream. 

“You are my slut you know that,  mine and mine only”

“Yes master! Can I cum? Can I pleease cum?!”

All the sensations devour me, completely engulfed in a pure state of helplessness and euphoria.

“Yes darling, cum for me. I want you to cum for me my dirty little cockslut.”

I scream in a wave of ecstasy and release. 

With an extra hard thrust, he then pulls out and pumps his cum all over Shio and my body. Spraying it all over, rewarding us with his satisfaction.

“Did you enjoy your gift my love?”

“Mmmm yes I did, thank you so much Master.”

About the Author

Many years ago, Em had realized that she was into bdsm/kink. Recently, she has begun to actively explore this lifestyle.

Em identifies as submissive. She enjoys discovering different aspects of the community, one of those things being erotica. She has always had a love for reading/writing. Something about seeing the written words touches her intensely, sparking a lusty inspiration within her.

She draws from past experiences as well as curious fantasies for her writings, in which she likes to share with kinky readers.

 

Wonu, Eyes Opened

By 2 Comments

“Mind if I get a bottle of tequila?” he asked Adelaide.

“No, go ahead. You know which ones are copies, right? Take one of those.”

“I do. I’ll be right back,” he kissed her, and took the wide path around to the side of the portico so as not to interrupt the band. 

The billiards and recreation room, a gift from the Lagara to the Dragaro on the day of their wedding, was to the left under the landing of the grand staircase. Two steps in and he froze on the spot with the sound of an implement cutting through the air and landing on flesh. A guttural cry. Female voice. He closed the door and took cautious steps forward until he could see the Lagara, furious curls spilled over the green felt surface, a strong hand around the back of her neck to hold her there.

Slice of air, smack of skin, her brief cry, eyes creased tightly closed. She flinched, but did not fight as she received one methodical strike after another. One hundred times, to Wonu’s count, and the implement clattered beside her. A metal pointer like any school master would have. A brutal implement at this force, having left bright red stripes on her skin. Wonu’s mouth went dry to know the pain she had just taken with such composure.

He’d had no idea…

The door behind him clacked, the bolt lock sliding into place. The hand holding her down slipped around the front of her neck to lift her part way.

“Come see, Rosaas Wonu. You have often begged to serve her sex. Come here and see what that really means.”

“Is she punished?” Wonu asked gravely, seeing the crisscross of welts across her upper back, buttocks, and down her thighs.

“Oh, no. She should have asked me first if she could perform, but I am very pleased she wants to sing for the people. I love to watch her and hear her. A whipping first has been our ritual for quite some time. It makes her hot and wet for me. Her puss will throb relentlessly. Especially if I do this.”

His hand disappeared between her parted thighs, under her knee length dress, and she keened a loud howl. Wetness shot from her to spray onto the floor, ran down the insides of her thighs. Wonu felt an internal heat like never before.

“Adelaide likes some rough treatment,” Hades said. “She likes some spank and a little of the rod. But my horny Immaculate is a more eager whipping post than any Gethinian slave you’ve ever watched. Aren’t you my horny cunt?”

“For you, Hades,” she managed to gasp.

“She hears nothing right now except the words I think to her. She sees nothing, eyes closed under my command. She doesn’t know you are here.”

His hand slid over her welted back as he lay her down again. He bent over to kiss her shoulder blade, fingers reaching into her skin to pull her wing shafts up. Her groan was low and loud, nipples bursting erect. Hades’ hands stroked firm around the bases, back and forth repeatedly.

“I hold her life in my hand. Literally,” he said, putting her down and pressing her wings into her until they were gone. “I can do absolutely anything I want to her and she will meet me there eagerly every time. I could drop her in the middle of ten men and she would wear them out long before she was satisfied. I could whip her for hours for a paying audience. Or I can rape her right here for an audience of one.”

Cock out, he impaled her ass in one piston of a thrust with both hands holding her tight to the green felt by her wing roots. She screeched and cried out, and, to Wonu’s astonishment, lifted herself onto her toes for more and tried to fuck him back.

“She is single-minded in her lust,” Hades said, and smacked the side of her welted thigh a blisteringly hard strike with his flattened hand. “A thing you did not experience those few days alone with her.”

She had yelped with the spank, tried to push up onto her forearms for better leverage. Hades came with a pummeling drive and a sharp groan. Cock back in his pants, he picked her up with an arm under her chest and another under her hips. He carried her, limp and breathless, to the nearest sofa and placed her to rest with her back to the room. Her pipe on its arm, he kissed her cheek.

“Sit with her,” he told Wonu. “She’ll be upright in a few minutes and ready to toke her pipe. Think on this: If you want to tend the welts and ease her lust, you will only ever be her slave. If you want to whip her more and keep her always in the greatest of need for her Masters, only then can you hope to rise to a position of authority within the Immaculate’s life.”

He walked out, door locking again behind him. Wonu sat opposite her, palm over his mouth, and digested what he had seen. What he still saw. Her back was thickly welted with yellow and red stripes. Ten minutes and she drew a sudden and long breath in through her nostrils. She pushed up, eyes snapping open, breasts swinging. Arms through the cap sleeves of her white dress, she was covered enough that no one would know. She saw him over her shoulder, eyes so like a vixen.

“Enjoy the show?” she taunted.

 

—— 

From Dream On,  the 10th volume of my Kingdom Key series.

Read the rest here: 

USA — Dream on — https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0876KQJXX

UK — https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0876KQJXX

Canada — https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0876KQJXX

Australia — https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0876KQJXX

 

Not in one of those places? Not a problem. Just copy/paste the product code into your country’s Amazon search bar: B0876KQJXX

 

—– 

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty six fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.