I feel a mythology coming on.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ranai
Nice short take Ranai. :D
once I plow through the bowl of serial I'll have to try a short take as god originally intended this thread to be. ;)
The Mad Lews
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I feel a mythology coming on.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ranai
Nice short take Ranai. :D
once I plow through the bowl of serial I'll have to try a short take as god originally intended this thread to be. ;)
The Mad Lews
Ranai, wb and great to see you re-posting in here! :)
i like the poeticness of the piece you wrote, the words all flow together very well, very picturesque scene and short
Mad same.. i don't usually write so long!
maybe I oughta stop my series and just wait till I finish to post it somewhere... do we have Long Takes anywhere? :p
Thanks dear learningtopleez, Mad, Mo! The characters and setting are not mine of course. I just had fun putting words into their mouths and struggling with the metre.
Background info:
Ogygia is the island where the hero involuntarily hangs out at the beginning of Homer’s Odyssey. On his hazardous voyage back from the destruction of Troy, Odysseus is detained there as prisoner and love slave of the nymph Calypso. The Stockholm Syndrome does not seem to work on Ogygia: After seven years with the immortal nymph, Odysseus still tells her that he just wants to go home! Only when Hermes, sent by the Olympians, intercedes on the hero’s behalf, the goddess must reluctantly let him depart. Well, it seems Calypso enjoyed her captive while she had him. Dialogues like the above may have recurred, in variations, many times in those seven years of captivity.
Passions (final piece)
There was no mistaking it now! My life was turning once more. Where it would run I did not know, nor, at this point, did I care. Passion had seen to that! I cracked the smile of the knowing and said, "My name dear Lady .....well, ......unforgettable to some....and lost to others.....unchained by many.....cast aside by few......but, if you would like to know....it is Adoru... though you would probably know me better as Love.” A knowing spark passed over her glacial blue eyes. I could see the effect immediately as I had so rarely seen before! She started to say something....the words held to her lips......nothing came.
I smiled with the same comprehension she had, as she turned once more and headed to the kitchen.
Well did I remember! How could I forget? Hot tears formed in the corners of my eyes. I was thankful she did not see them. I sighed,...... memories of past Passions. For what is Love, without Passion?
Bravo!! :applaus:
What an amazing ending....and what passion you show for your memories of past passions!
Very sweet too....and I like that.... :)
Edge Sir, i feel Your angst, i sense that you are working through some deep issues, and i wish You success with coming to grips with them. i also would like to say , if this is the way You choose to work throught hings, that is very lucky for the rest of us here.
Your writing is pared down, words chosen carefully to have the most effect. and they surely do!
the emotions evoked are powerful.
i much admire your skill.
respectfully J's blu
Well done Noble one,Quote:
Originally Posted by EdgeOfHuman
Your Adoru certainly seems to have stirred some passions here
Do write on good sir. :applaus:
Mad Lews
A beautifully worded ending, EoH. Thanks!
And I must say that usually I really, really dislike characters who are put as personifications of abstract concepts.
A stylistic thing: Please go easy on the dots: '..........' ?
Please keep writing, and give us more whenever you feel like it. :)
I've been asked on various occasions about the 'very first' experience and I couldn't dig up anything particular, little things, like reading, all building up, but, never leading to the very first one. I thought there must be something BEFORE! After I meditated on it and did some digging, POP, it came up. Believe it or not, I actually forgot about it, totally blanketed it!
I dug around in the memory recycle bin, most seemingly disappeared, except for this. Why's that I wondered? This is the one I can place a tag on now.
Music: Something Mediterranean.
Wine is optional - but, red, if selected.
This is not a story about the "First Time I Did It Knowingly," on the contrary, this is the
"First Time I Did Not Know What The Hell I was Doing and It Does Not Seem Very Momentous Now, But It Certainly Was At The Time."
Time/Place: One of those early summers which ARE a place, that lasts forever and ends in a blink of an eye. It was one of those summers which somehow mingle within our memories as the essence of childhood summers. Yes, one of those.
The setting: One of those small Mediterranean resorts. No, it was not one of those gargantuan edifices called resort hotels that squat between the shore and the hills, blotting out the sky, but whitewashed, rough hewn, stone houses with red tiled roofs. They were bathed in the blinding one o clock sun that pounds the almost dead sea and turns all sound into tiny squeaks that fade into yesterdays.
Zoom to: 'Hotel' room, the wooden blinds drawn, and it is floundering in stifling heat. There is a thirteen year old boy on wet bed sheets getting ready for the main festivity of the day. What triggered this activity, besides being pumped with hormones and a lot of girls running around testing their wiles? A movie perhaps, shown the night before in an open theater. Kids would sit on white pebbled ground just below the screen. Which movie? Who knows? Bardot comes to mind but I'm not THAT old, but it doesn't matter. It was French, certainly.
I remember just a scene, a shard of a scene. A naked woman was standing (and still is!) on the fur in front of the fireplace, her skin ruddy. The camera panned up from the pink heels, over the mile-long legs, lingered on that ass, (just a hint of quiver,) then followed the perfect, sinuous curves of her spine, and paused at the long neck holding up the blond head. The vision drew the mind's eye towards the damn heaven of the indigo summer night. And then, she turned her head toward the camera, and, that's THAT, a trigger.
Back in the room, the boy is getting ready to masturbate his head off. It's sweet, sharp, and strong, like the bite of first ice cold Coke you ever tasted, before it got stale. I was never told I'll go blind or that hairs will grow on my palms; never taught it was sinful or shameful. It was all those things, so sweet, and for me, it was something I discovered on my own. It's something nobody admits doing and yet, somehow, everybody knows all about it. Ha!
There I was, the young boy, getting ready to go for it. I took off my bermuda-like swimming trunks, that although garish, were most popular in those days. Ah, but I didn't take them off really. I just kept them down around my ankles and twisted them, in an effort to keep my legs open, to create the feeling that they were FORCED open by an outside agent, unable to pull them together on my own. The trunks didn't obey, so I brought into play a metal rod, one of those rods used to hang towels on, from the bathroom, and some towels, I think. I bunched it all together, twisted, tied, and struggled and - presto! - I restrained myself in an effective spreader bar. Hey, I invented it that day!
I could finally could indulge in that innocent, yet so damn naughty sport called - jacking off. With the added main ingredient of being exposed, forcefully, even forced to stroke it.
Flying high, I was jackrabitting and dimly aware of the sound of the key turning in the lock. The key? The key was a metal thing used to open hotel rooms before key cards. And I have no idea why I didn't leave my key in the lock. The cleaning lady pushed the tools of her trade in the room. Cleaning lady? Sorry, a nondescript local woman. The bed was so strategically placed that she was waaay in the room. I was hysterically struggling to pull the sweat dampened sheets from beneath to cover myself before she could notice me. When she did, she stared and squinted in the semi gloom. I tried to gather my wits together but my mind and body turned into Jell-o. She ordered me out! I was just a kid on holiday with his family and she was a local. The locals had a very low opinion of 'those city slickers'. 'Cleaning lady' couldn't imagine WHY anybody, let alone a boy on holiday, would want to lock themselves in a crummy, suffocating, hot, sweaty, and smelly (sniff... sniff...Do I smell something else, hmm?) room in the afternoon.
I managed to reply that I was sick or whatever, but she insisted. We engaged in a verbal tug-of-war and I was close to freaking out. I could not do even that! Some discreet tugging under the sheets convinced me I was bound for good. Did I have butterflies in guts? No, I had damn royal eagles slamming into a quivering prey in my guts every three seconds, keeping time with my ear popping heartbeat. Unfortunately, my damn dick didn't even want to go down! I had to pull the sheets upward to avoid the tenting.
Finally, she shrugged, turned, and went about her business. She opened the blinds, puttered and cleaned around the rooms, shuffled in and out the bathroom a zillion times, and occasionally threw me dirty glances. Did she KNOW? Well...she knew something was amiss. The whole time I laid there, pinned like a petrified butterfly, I clutched the sheets desperately (pretending I wasn't.) I thought there was a transparent glare coming in from the windows, a splotch on the sheets in a strategic place, my bound ankle must stuck out (it didn't.) Whenever she passed close by, I was worried she'd snatch away my cover, stare and laugh, THEN run down to the beach, stop, just to inform my parents, THEN, tell all my friends who would THEN come to the room. And THEN, well, kids can be sooo cruel. In my mind, I could just hear the girls giggling and commenting on a certain outhrust member and wanted to die. It was awful.
Ah, but my penis didn't think so. It kept playing the 'I'm down now, oops I'm up again' game. Eventually, after what seemed like several geological ages, some 15 minutes went by and so did the last dirty glance. She left, slamming the door behind her.. Whoosh! I let the breath out...I felt like I was holding it the whole time. And that was it...no...it was not. I finished the business at hand and finally, really messed up the crumbled sheets. Then, and only then, did I struggle to remove the makeshift spreader bar which held me spread-eagled all that time. THAT was the point. The OTHER point could finally rest...for a few hours at least, (thirteen, remember?)
Aaaaaaaand CUT!
***
And that is it. I went the other way eventually. This moment in time turned into time-capsule buried under a rubble of unused (and, perhaps, unwanted) memories. Resurrecting it, I offer this hot summer moment, cleaned and polished, for your inspection.
copyright (c) 2005 by Wolff
for the One
And a wrap... Thanks for sharing pej but it's hard to picture your inner child not staying brazenly hard throughout. Room service needs some work too, she had the atitude of a French waiter. Oh there I go again picking on the French sorry
Seem's you kept the situattion well in hand.
Mad
Ah pej,
how do you do it? I thought November was one of the colder months around here. All of a sudden, a blast of Mediterranean sun, salty sweat, sexual heat. Never let it be said that hormones cloud the human brain – no way, they made you invent the spreader bar! Mmmm... I wonder whether she noticed that one of the towel rails was missing?
What a deliciously erotic memory, and so deliciously told.
'...in an effort to keep my legs open, to create the feeling that they were FORCED open by an outside agent, unable to pull them together on my own.'
‘The whole time I laid there, pinned like a petrified butterfly, I clutched the sheets desperately’ ... hot damn this is sexy.
Thanks. *Kiss*
Pej:
In order to get in the mood and totally ensconse myself as a fly on the wall, I took your advice to create mood...;)
Music: Never on a Sunday
Wine: Chianti
Ahhh, (she smiles with delicious satisfaction.) Your story is very poignant and well written. It's a sort of snapshot in the boy's memory that lingers in the subconscious. The Mediterranean is known for coloring memories and heating the blood.
Would it be to greedy to ask for another 'first?' Inquiring minds...:D (wow...the faces work today!)
Hmmm, about the maid, perhaps she was too busy being nosy about the boy to change the towels and I'm certain she had a relative that was a French waiter...most probably Parisian...Wouldn't you agree Mad? :rolleyes: AND, I don't have any qualms about picking on the French. Comprenez?Quote:
Originally posted by Ranai:
What a deliciously erotic memory, and so deliciously told.
Nikita
Music; Melina (Never On Sunday) Mercouri
wine: Chianti
Thank you kind folk - Mad & Ranai & Nikita
I'm glad you liked it - it has been a pleasure telling it.
I'm closer to one of my goals in life - making people deliciously hot. (And letting them play fly on wall)
So right!Quote:
Originally Posted by Ranai
Maybe I should start a thread - "Things I Invented under 'Influence' of Hormones and/or Medethrine?"
French Maid: How on earth did 'local cleaning woman' became French Maid (with French Waiter relative)? Wonders of storytelling.
Show me the way to French Maid!
Thanks again
Pej
Well It's getting cold around here and then Pej puts up a story about warm Mediterranean vacations and Nikita come up with a sexy new Avatar hanging out at the beach which got the old noggin cranking.
Place: East Coast of Florida betwixt Daytona and Melbourne Beach
Time: When it's cold up north and warmer down there
Cast: Sandy, and her best friend Master, as well as assorted surf casters and beach derelicts who would want to be an audience if only they were a bit quicker.
Sorry if this is a bit long for a "short" but I'm cheating and putting stories up here until the site's up and running
Without further ado:
Beach Bum
Sandy always looks so innocent when she's asleep. She'd snuggled down under the sheet, naked, but for her collar, a sweet smile on her lips. I almost hated to disturb her, but the sun would be up shortly. I flipped on the light and pulled the sheet away revealing her in all her delightfully naked glory.
" Oh god what time is it?" she mumbled yawning and rubbing her sleep filled eyes.
" Get up, hands behind your back. Now!" I snapped not wishing to discuss my plans with her.
Sandy's well trained so she scurried to obey, never one to upset her master. She stood with her feet apart and hands crossed behind the small of her back. I do so love the way she strives to please, but I also like to keep her on her toes. Still who would begrudge me a little kiss followed by a lick and a nibble on those delightfully displayed nipples. Once I was done nibbling we got on with the business of properly dressing my sweet sub.
I turned her about so she faced away, and pressed her hands together, palms outward. I prefer to use nylon three strand rope, a quarter inch thickness works well for intricate knotting. Three loops around the wrists and I cinched them and knotted the rope in place. The next loops, half way up the forearm were cinched and knotted. I quickly worked my way up her arms pulling her elbows tightly together then working higher still.
Once I was satisfied that her shoulders were forced back and her breasts prominently thrust forward I tied the rope off in a knot that I could easily release but of course she could not reach. I lifted her bound arms off her back and Sandy moaned as she was forced to bend forward. I released my grip and she straightened, her bound hands coming to rest atop the graceful curve of her ass.
" It's four thirty, the sun will be up soon. We're going to the beach to watch the sun rise." I cheerfully told my love. She probably wanted to complain about this harebrained idea, She definitely would have preferred sleeping in, but what can a poor girl do when her Master calls? Even if it is before the crack of dawn.
I rummaged through our dresser drawers and found a skirt, a dark, gauzy, cotton one, a bit longer than I approve of, but it had an elastic waist so it fit my needs of the moment. With her arms bound she couldn't dress herself so I held the skirt open in front of her and she daintily stepped into it. I pulled it up over her hips then gave her a playful swat on the tush through the thin fabric. I just love to hear that sexy little yelp of hers.
At the doorway we stopped to clip the ten foot walking leash to her collar and I slipped my left hand through the leash's handle, a mere formality, but one I do enjoy.
We stepped out into the predawn darkness, it was a bit cool and a breeze was coming in off the ocean. Even from this distance you could hear the surf pounding. Our condo was right on the boardwalk a hundred yards from the ocean, and at this hour we were assured a little privacy. Sandy was shivering though, so I wrapped my right arm around her naked shoulder pulling her closer, more for comfort than warmth. From a distance in the darkness we were the most common of sights. Two lovers headed for the beach, only a closer inspection would reveal that my beauty was topless, bound, and wore a collar and leash.
" Master, I need to go." She whispered in my ear, though there was no one around to hear her.
I sighed, we were only fifty yards from the end of the boardwalk, sand and saw grass were on either side of the path. With a nod I lead her off onto the sand. She squatted down as the wind tugged at her skirt. I hoped she wouldn't wet it.
" Come on little one we don't want to be late."
We'd become a different common sight; a man out walking his leashed pet, waiting impatiently for her to finish her business. I looked about but there was no one nearby; out along the beach I could see lights from a few scattered night fishermen still casting into the surf. She finished, rose, and was transformed, once more she becoming a lover at my side on a stroll to the beach.
We reach the end of the boardwalk a wooden stairway descended down onto the beach. The tide was coming in and the surf roared as it crashed into the sand. The sky to the east was lightening though the sun was still a few minutes away. Sandy stepped toward the stairway but the leash pulled her up short.
" Halt!" I order relishing the authority "Down girl" I would have her become my bitch pup again. Sandy squatted down on her haunches at the top of the stairway. A gust of wind blew her skirt out behind her revealing her lovely pear shaped bottom and I immediately knew what I wanted. I wrapped her leash around the wooden railing and squatted down beside her. She turned her head toward me her trussed arms were forced off to the right as she turned. Her expression was filled with curiosity and need. She wanted to know what I required of her She awaited my orders. At times like this I know why I'm in love.
Afraid I have to post it in two parts. Sorry folks I can get long winded at times..
Beach Bum 2
My left hand gripped her shoulder pressing it downward while my right hand dipped between her legs pushing her bottom upward while I stroked her hairless mons. She whined pitifully and rocked forward onto her knees as her forehead came to rest on the boardwalk. She was shaking as she bent to my whim, her delicious little ass wavering in the air as she kowtowed before the roaring ocean.
I drew the skirt up over her back, exposing her. She turned her head toward me her lips forming a kiss. My hand slid higher between her legs exploring her moist folds. She was wet, but not nearly enough for what I had in mind.
I expressed my disappointment with a sharp slap across her left buttock. She squealed in shock her body jerking with a start. I applied a second swat to her right cheek just because symmetry is important. This time when my hand delved into her inner folds she wept moisture with abandon.
She whimpered softly as I moistened my fingers within her. She gave another startled cry as my hand withdrew and rose higher, a finger gently circling the puckered ring of flesh that was my true destination. She sobbed, no doubt preferring I use her in any other way but that. My finger pressed forward, insistent, slowly she opened to the invading digit, which sank deeper and then unhurriedly withdrew. A second moistened finger joined the first gently stretching, probing, and plunging forward with restrained enthusiasm. By now Sandy had begun to warm to the idea, moaning as her hips rotated in counterpoint to my invading fingers. She was almost ready and the sun is nearly upon us.
I reluctantly pulled my fingers out but her greedy little bottom wanted more, swaying as it tried to follow the retreating digits. I rose over my prostrate lover and used her cinched arms to raise her up onto her knees, then I stood before her loosening the drawstring of my shorts and tugging them down. Her eyes widened as I sprang free bobbing before her. She needed no instructions now, eagerly engulfing me with her lips. I slide deeper toward the back of her throat my hands on her shoulders steadying her.
" You'll want to moisten that real well, woman." I growl impatiently and of course her only answer was a sputtering noise as she gulped. I thrust in and out a few times stretching her lips while she drooled and slathered me as best she could. The sky was brightening the sun was almost ready. I reluctantly pulled away from Sandy's loving mouth and took my position behind her.
My knees nudged her legs further apart as I slid forward, pulling her hips toward me and sinking into her sopping pussy. She sighed contentedly. Perhaps she thought I'd changed my mind, but then I spat into my hand and rubbed the saliva between her cheeks. Eagerly smearing this final bit of lubricant while my fingers worked anew to loosen and relax her tighter entrance.
I rocked back slowly sliding out of her dripping pussy at the same time cupping her breasts pulling her up until her back pressed against my chest her bound arms forced off to the side. My knees slid deeper spreading her legs further apart and lifting her up off her own knees until she was forced up onto her feet and was squatting over my lap.
" Such a cute little ass." I gloated, my impatient cock sliding along the crevice of her butt. I release her breasts but only so I could support her bottom and raise her hips a little bit higher.
It was nearly time.
My thumbs pulled her cheeks open, I throbbed in anticipation positioning myself against her puckered opening.
A bright line of orange breasted the eastern horizon and I release her hips.
With a sharp squeal she slowly slid down my length. It was such an exquisite feeling as I slipped through that tight portal on my way toward ecstasy. I wanted to hold her there forever buried in her snug embrace but after just a few taut seconds I could not be restrained. I thrust with abandon while she bounced up and down on my lap with equal enthusiasm. My hands returned to her breasts squeezing her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She cried out in delight and bounced harder and faster. Soon she was sobbing wildly, and calling my name. All thought had abandoned both of us as we rejoiced in pure feeling. She begged and pleaded, but what she was begging for I'm not sure that even she could say. My right hand abandoned her breast to slide down across her belly coming to rest just above her throbbing nub.
The last bit of that fiery orange ball lifted above the horizon.
I whispered in her ear," Cum for me Sandy." as my fingers strummed across her aching clit.
She screeched and jerked about on my lap as I spurted deep inside her. It seemed to go on forever.
I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tight, as we both tried to regain our breath.
I barely recovered in time to see that three curious surf casters had picked up their gear and were headed toward our stairway. I pulled up my shorts then pulled Sandy's skirt up over her breasts. It was long enough to still cover her as long as she kept her knees together. We sat together at the top of the stairway my arm around her shoulder to obscure the fact that her arms were bound behind her. The three fishermen eyes were riveted on my love as they climbed the stairs. That was natural, as she is a delightful sight even with clothes on. She blushed prettily under their leering eyes. Once they were past us all three began to chatter excitedly, though the wind off the ocean took their words away. Still there was no mistaking the sound of three men chuckling, and no doubt at Sandy's expense.
It wasn't till we rose to leave that I realized she was still tethered to the railing. They had been staring at her leash and collar, no wonder they were laughing as the left. I unhitched the leash and held her close to me.
" Do you think they were jealous Master?" Sandy asked coyly.
Of course they were, and with good reason, but she already knew that.
© Mad Lews
Beautiful story, Lews, and very well written. Lovely emotions.
... of the World Unite! You can Lose Nothing but Your Armbinders!
Whooop - Mad wrote a good old D/s smut story.
Whooop - And its really good ( I can't say sweet, let be reasonable), and damn hot.
Whooop - and no exhibitionism, no brilliant and/or obscure allusions, witty chatter, no tricks, just plain dirty fun!
AND Whooops - it's romantic! (I won't tell anyone)
I loved the atmosphere and the sunrise motif (allegory, parable?)
Inspired Mad!
(no - I am not asking for more, you being discerning person, figure it out,:D )
Pej
Pej,Quote:
Originally Posted by pejanon
Did anyone ever tell you you're easy? :) I was going to call it "The Sun Also Rises" but it was taken.
the Mad one
:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Mad Lews
I just looove being easy.
Great story Mad, I mean it.
Pej
I for one Sir think you have far surpassed your goal of making people deliciously hot!:)Quote:
Originally Posted by pejanon
Just wanted to compliment you dear Mad Sir on your wonderfully hot, romantic, and juicy tale!:) Thanks! it definitely hit the spot!:p
Now could someone please turn the heat down in here?? NOT!!!:D
There's something to be said about the beach. It heats up the blood; all those beach bunnies and handsome harrys flexing and baring their balls. Then suddenly, everything starts popping. (Oops, I did it again :D I'm slapping Britney down...)
Fresh air, sunshine, sand between the toes, and the smell of the ocean make it feel like summer's around the corner. (I wish...)
I looooove your story, and from a madman at that. Still waters run deep...(did I say that?)
My favorite was this:
Very sweet. (She hands Mad the brush) Need this?:DQuote:
It wasn't till we rose to leave that I realized she was still tethered to the railing. They had been staring at her leash and collar, no wonder they were laughing as they left. I unhitched the leash and held her close to me.
Nikita
Please LTP,Quote:
Originally Posted by learningtopleez
I'm trying to escape the romance writer rep. I really need to get a little rough with those sweet, adorable, lickable little hot cross buns of yours dear. Damn, were's the hairbrush, and the cool whip. and why won't my smiley faces work :( ?
Your freindly
Mad man
Damn it Nikita,iQuote:
Originally Posted by nikita
I'm not sweet!
Honest, However since you came up with the inspiring avatar I suppose we can dispense with the brush and settle for a bare handed one on those cute buns.
No really I won't grope ya...
What's that? you believe me?
Well I do have this nice bridge for sale up here in Brooklyn.....
Mad
Oh my!! Did I say romantic?? :rolleyes:Quote:
Originally Posted by Mad Lews
Yes...yes I did! Especially if you're gonna be using a hairbrush and cool whip!:D
Btw...orchid may still have those items in her possession...since you used them on her last!!:p Just a friendly hint for the NOT romantic Mad!!:)
Well, if you are asked so nicely to turn down the heat (NOT) - you have to oblige...
This tale is stand alone - but it also starts at the exact point where my Seven Swats Game left....
since I am sucker for titles - here's ...
FILL IN BLANKS ON THE WAY TO ZEPPELIN
(Dashes do NOT stand for letter or words)
He brushed her flushed face and gazed into her liquid eyes.
"What do you say...after such a lesson?"
Nike stammered "Th.... th ..."
"What? Say it!"
Nike's eyes glazed suddenly and her lips became tight line. Not a sound came from her.
"That was game, set, match. Now! Say it!"
She just stared at him as he asked again - then shook her head. He rolled her off his lap onto the floor.
"Get cleaned and dressed, you tramp. Look at you!" he said as he looked at the crumbled tennis outfit.
She scrambled towards the locked and looked back at him.
"What?!" he admonished ashe scrambled towards the locker and looked back at him.
She got down oh all fours, crawled away, intentionally giving him 'come and get it' view of her red bottom. Stoping, she turned her head and he though he saw a glint in her eye.
"Scat!"
Nike hoisted herself up and trotted briskly to her locker where she peeled off her not-so-white-anymore dress. As she opened the locker to put on her day clothes on, she looked at the Wolf. He shook his head.
"Are you a Slut, Nikita?"
"__ __", she said defiantly.
"Then dress like one."
Out came her special bag, and she dressed like one. She took her time; displaying each piece of clothing to him and putting them on slowly.
"Long latex stockings, roll them up, slowly, then, snap, snap. Thin belt-like garter to attach the stockings. But BEFORE you attach them, snap the snaps against your leg. I want to hear it."
"__ __" she said under her breath and covered her mouth quickly because she spoke out of turn.
"Now, attach them. Now, for the gloves, pull them up slowly, one finger at the time, smooth them, first one, then the other. Not a wrinkle, Nikita."
As the leather vest is pulled out, it's quilted squares are steel knobbed, very stiff, short and sleeveless. When she put it on, it reached just about the third of the way down her back and stuck out at an angle, its stiff edge away from her skin. But, in all its absurdity, it stressed the curve of her naked back, and pointed to Nike's bare, glowing ass; an ass that appeared supported by the latex stockings.
Finally, she picked up the stiletto sandals and slowly clasped each thin, blood-red band over her feet, and ran into some difficulty as the leather straps glided over her smoothly latex encased feet. The red sandals accented the black outfit and seemed to bondage her feet for Wolf.
When she finished, she cast a glance under her long eyelashes at Wolf and searched for approval on his face. She stood upright, proud, rightly proud. Her skin was pale and radiant in fluorescent glare, her breasts jutting out between the vest's wings. A trickle of sweat ran between them, over the glimpse of her ribs, then over her hard tummy, exploring the belly button sliding in tiny rivulets toward her jutting mons, drawn by glistening wetness between Nike's legs.
He tried to hide his admiration and practiced a stony look. Their eyes met; she smiled. He tried to stop his own smile-back and instead waved his hand towards her hair and face. She quickly wiped her still tear stained face, and scrambling through her bag, found a lipstick, almost purple, and applied it liberally. She pouted like a self conscious little girl who was trying on a stolen stick. She took a leather band and tied her hair in tight, smooth ponytail. Then Nike straightened up again.
"What are you Nikita, tell me!" he said gruffly.
There was a certain timbre in his voice that sounded almost choked.
"__ __ __ __"
"Yes you are. A real one."
" __ __ __ __"
"AH, but you will NOT thank me for that impudent red ass of yours?"
She just looked into the distance. He stormed towards her, his boots echoed on concrete, leather jeans emitting a squishy oiled noise. The Wolf pinned her hands behind her back. Nike felt her wrists encased with hard armbands, heard a click - she knew he locked the links directly to each other, letting the short chain dangle.. As he pushed her toward the door, he held her steady with his body. She wobbled a bit on her stiletto feet, but he held her - pushing her on.
Corridors, stairs, hallway, and finally, to the parking lot.. Almost bereft of cars, but not quite, almost dark, but not quite. In the distance, city light glared and twinkled as they blotted out the stars in evening sky.
Up above, Nike saw a zeppelin. It should say Goodyear, but somehow it spells out to the world - SlutYea. It was fitted with strong reflector swinging slowly and whenever it passed over the lot, she was bathed in the stark, iridescent glare of the cold electric light.
As Nike was pushed towards his dark Lexus, her wrists were unclasped and she was made to grasp the edge of the car roof on the Lexus, her arms straight, her body almost horizontal. She spread her legs and they were pushed even further apart. Nike's head hung down and her tightly packed breasts reached out to mother earth. He pulled her chain around the luggage carrier on the car, re-locked the clasp, bending her, turning her into half sawhorse tethered to his car. Her legs - inverted V, torso - sunk slightly in the middle, ass jutted up; she was ridding her own body-horse of desire.
Nike felt his hand on her heated ass and grew goose bumps from the chilly air. Suddenly, pain exploded on her burning flesh. The heft behind the blow pushed her into the side of the car. The Lexus rocked from the blow, the stereo kicking in, and the muffled sounds of Led Zeppelin's "Black Dog" flooded the parking lot.
As her head flew up, her mouth opened in a scream. The ponytail whipped wildly against the jacket; it's tip audibly hit the bare skin. What? She racked her brain and was hit again, the swat almost lifting her off the ground. A sobbing Nike shook her head and swung her ponytail in wild semi-arc. This was not the paddle he used on her before. What was it?
"Yes, what?" He growled, familiar with her inquisitive mind. "Tell me what is it?"
Wolf struck again and almost tattooed her against the car with the force of next two blows.
He stopped to ask her again, "What is it?"
Straightening her trembling arms she pushed herself away from the car sweat pouring over her body, dripping from forehead., running down her legs, slicking the latex even more.. And there was another drip... between her legs.
sorry - p 1 appeared twice (???)
please read on
Fill in Blanks on the Way to Zeppelin p2
Straightening her trembling arms she pushed herself away from the car sweat pouring over her body, dripping from forehead., running down her legs, slicking the latex even more.. And there was another drip... between her legs.
The night air puffed her pussy lips even more, Nike though she could hear the drip of her juice on the asphalt - feeling tangibly the beam of blimp light bathing her, exposing her nakedness - sucking the essence of her nudity in the sky.
Wherever that beam of light swung over the city, its transported her message to all interested souls: here is the wettest, greediest pussy; come and get it. As the light came back to bathe her all those eyes came to stare at her, to drink their fill of her exposed nakedness, to drink in her soul.
And the SlutYea Eye in the Sky kept swinging, searching for more.
"What is it?"
The Wolf's reappeared in her consiousness, and forced her to concentrate through the new surge of blistering pain. She tugged helplessly at her bonds.
"__ __ __ "
"No." laughed, "You can do better than that, you ponytail, you."
He swung again, almost sending her on the roof, her elbows driving painfully in her sides.
"__ __!" she screamed into the night.
"Right! How smart! It's a short, rectangular one! How many blows? Including this one?"
"__ __ __" she whimpered.
"Are you sure? I'll reread and check! You do not want to know what will happen if you are wrong!"
She heard a clatter of wood on the asphalt and knew he dropped the toy. Wolf grabbed Nike's ponytail, forcing her upward, her panting mouth an O of desperation and desire. As she felt him press into her, he pulled her head back even more. Nike looked into the sky at the SlutYea zeppelin that was just an silent observer now.
"What are you, again?"
"__ __ __"she stuttered, gulping air between sobs.
"And what do you do when paddled at your master's whim?"
"__ __ __"
"How profoundly?"
"__ __ __"
"We'll see how good are you at that. There will be no more of that ponytailed bratiness, right?"
"__ __ __" gasped Nike as he squeezed her breast.
"No more of what? And MORE of what?"
" __ __ __"
He released the hold on her ponytail and shifted his hands to grab her blistered ass cheeks. She moaned as his finger moved in between them, touched her drenched pussy, circled but never touched Nike's engorged clit.. Wolf's removed his hand and she knew that he was sucking her essence off his fingers.
"You need Pampers," he muttered, then grabbed her hip with one hand and placed the other firmly on the small of her back, forcing her to bend forward even further.
Nike felt the head of Wolf cock move between her spread asscheeks, her anus twitching - the head touched it, moved away, came back. He pushed against the clenched muscle slowly. She gasped and tried to turn toward him, but he smacked her face lightly.
"No peeking now. Not yet."
He pushed against the pressure of Nike's sphincter and tempered his need with her resistance, inexorably forcing her open.
"Come on it. Take the zeppelin in. Push out. What do the good ponytails do when a cock announces its desire at their ass?"
"__ __ __" she gasped. Nike's screams reverberated in the asphalt playground as she forced her hole open and pushed herself onto the Wolf cock.
Nike concentrated on controlling the pain of this invasion. This pain is different, her mind sang then she thought "What TWO muscles?" and THEN - her mind blanked as her entered her.
Pain? Searing? Splitting? - yes, but it did not impale her body, it seared and split souls. She heard his gasp as he lodged further into her trembling body. His need flowed from his Nike-encased-dick into her guts, down her pussy, then rushed into her mind like bejeweled lighting.
Lights flashed in front of her eyes. and from the furnace that was Wolf she heard, "What now - tell me what now!" and his balls slapped her inflamed pussy.
" __ __ "
Nike's asshole squeezed. Hard. Wolf managed to withstand the viselike grip on his dick and grabbed her by the shoulder when she tried to move away.
"You will fuck only when told," he grated.
He pulled back an inch and Nike felt her sphincter was being pulled out. He then slammed into her burning ass. She felt sure he had become thicker and instinctively tried to squeeze him out, only to feel herself stretched even more.
'What now - you sluttail?" he asked and grabbed her gaping pussy. He entered her using two fingers to spread her lips, allowing no more squeezing herself to climax. Nike felt invaded; her holes taken away, but opened. Which was more intensive? Nike didn't know if it was the emptiness of her sopping pussy or the engorgement of her asshole.
"What now? What do you need to do now?'
" __ __"
"Ah yes, but, not yet."
He leaned over her, the weight of his body almost overpowered Nike. As her legs buckled, he held her up, leaving them to dangle while her torso remained horizontal. Wolf untied her from the car.
Nike felt small, almost cuddled, as he bear-hugged her, the perfect little sheath for Wolf's cock.
His lips brush against Nike's wet cheek. She moved her head toward his as he smothers her lips, sucks her tongue drinks her gasps, imbibing the
pulse of her nub and her asshole he senses in her mouth.
As he looked in her liquid green fired eyes, he disengaged his mouth and whispered, "Perhaps little Nikita is ready for a Zeppelin Hunt?"
She nodded her best little girl nod, "__ __ __"
Wolf ripped his cock out, not cumming. letting her pulse, gape, and squeeze freely now. He swept her up in his arms and never let her touch the ground.
Nike's legs dangled over his arm. Her head lolled but he caughs it in fold between his arm and chest. She rised her hand towards her face, then asked permission with her eyes.
He nodded, "Yes little Nikita, you may," She put her thumb in her mouth and squeezed her thighs together tightly and rode the high wave.
As Wolf carried her toward the house. she enjoyed the comforting sway, the cradling, and finally, the emptiness of her anus and wondered what was the Zeppelin Hunt?
She didn't wonder hard.
She knew she will soon find out.
Copyright 2005 (c) by Wolff
for the One
But I for one got a little confused with the fill in the blank format. I liked the story... OK I liked the slut in the story, but the story was good too.:D
I'm just a little lost on the blanks game play.:confused:
Could be I'm just slow on the uptake. Give us a hint?
Mad
Hi Mad - thank you.:)
WHAT goes in blanks is/was pretty obvious - mostly standard stuff. However invention is/was most welcome.
Perhaps it requires more involved reading - sort of getting into 'feel' of the story? My fault if it does not work.
You are welcome to try - but consider wearing leather jacket, latex stocking and red heels - maybe those would help. No? Well....;)
Thanks for kind comment
Pej
Not a bad story, but some of her responses can not be figured out (by me, at least) from context.
Maybe a little hint, here and there?
This blasted site posted an edit as another separate entry...grrr
Interview with a Domme by Nikita
The phone rang at 11:20 am. I looked at the caller id; it was her.:eek:
"I'm getting ready to leave. What are YOU doing?" she asked.
"Just hopped out of the shower. Be there by noon." I lied.
Guess what, I rushed my ass over there. I wasn't going to be late a second time.
The lunch spot was loud, bustling, and had LOTS of tables. It was an ideal location for interviewing the domme. Tanya arrived on time, and, as usual, in black attire, her bearing regal, as if she was descended from the Dracules. Long, wavy, dark red hair surrounded the pale, thin face. Her tropical blue eyes could turn icy at the snap of a finger. Her steel toed black leather boots had chain wrapped across the top and under the heel. The familiar black leather bag made a return appearance, and, I hoped, sans Bible.:rolleyes:
To say I was trembling would be an understatement. Tanya graced me with her smile and treated me to lunch. As she ushered me to a table and retrieved our lunch trays, I struggled to gather my wits. We both ordered broccoli cheddar soup, a personal winter favorite, dry sandwiches, and water to wash it down. The wall we sat against buffered the noise but did little to shelter us from the close proximity of the other diners. And so, we talked of normal things again...until I took out my pen and notebook.
The notebook was pale yellow and sage green plaid...not something that can be ignored. Our eyes connected and it was time to begin. She smiled and suddenly, I needed to take a shit.:eek:
"Whatcha got kiddo..." she asked, chewing out of the side of her mouth.
"Umm, here's a questionnaire that was sent to me. Can you explain some of these things?"
As she glanced over them, her head nodded, as if VERY familiar with the questions.
"Oh, this measures curiosity levels." She noted, "Yours?"
"And His."
An evil grin crossed her face and came to shadow mine.
"It's evident he likes boobs and pussy,...foot worship...no mystery there...oh...and ..."
Tanya pointed to a question and I nodded.
"Now for yours..."
She took out her reading glasses for mine.
"You gotta change this, can't be a wuss," she admonished. "And you don't like THIS? Well, you are going to try it girly. That's what I'D make you do." and she changed my answer.:(
In fact, she changed quite a few of my answers, and my head was spinning. I felt like a bubble head. What was I going to do? Can't argue with a redhead whose hair is redder than yours. Then she pointed to a question that I found hard to answer...I shook my head.:(
"Hmmm, ya got your hands full, girly. boxed yourself in."
Her comment felt like a blow and I wanted to ask "Doc, am I gonna live?":(
"Let's put our heads together here..." she suggested.
For about an hour we went through the questionnaires. They covered interest levels and limits of BDSM, something completely alien and unintelligible to me. I felt like a Tiddlywinks player in a Monopoly game tournament, and I wanted to play.
Midway through lunch, she hoisted the leather bag onto her lap. Through the thick bank of lashes, I watched out of the corner of my eye.
"Brought ya something. Got this years ago and never wore it. It doesn't fit my husband, either. He's too big."
My eyes were the size of Oreos at that statement alone. She casually placed the studded black leather collar in front of me, in full view of everyone. My heart skipped a couple of beats. With clammy, shaking hands, I quickly swiped it off the table, and dropped it on the floor. As I bent to pick it up, my silverware dropped on the other side of the table and attracted more attention. My efforts to be casual were anything but. Tanya was shook with laughter. It was then I started to laugh as well, at the absurd my reaction to her trick. She proved to be adept at pushing my already deeply pressed buttons. My synapses snapped like electricity.:eek:
"What is this? A collar? It has metal spikes!" I whispered hoarsely with shock and awe.
I struggled to stuff it in my bag; the spikes inflicted pain.
"It's a subbie collar. You can wear it next time you play with your husband. It's too small for a man."
Her laughter tinkled like water in a glass. Funny, I didn't think she could ever sound like a little girl.
"It was too small for your husband?" I asked, as a smile creeped up on my face.
Suddenly, in unison, we howled and stomped our feet at the thought. :D Her husband was tall and brawny, a real biker type, not someone who'd wear a subbie collar, by any means, married to a domme or not. I the wiped tears of laughter that streaked down my face. But, I was not finished with my lesson.
The lady domme reached into her bag again, the one that held the Bible, whipped out a baton style flogger with leather strips, and laid it on the table next to the questionnaires. :eek: That sobered me up quickly. I stared at it. My tears became thick and glazed. She heard my heart thumping.
"Don't worry. Occasionally, I have to use it on myself for a little stimulation, so I keep it handy." she, a little embarrassed at this admission. "I don't have anyone to beat me properly. Would you like to practice?" she asked, in that little girl voice.;)
2005 (c) by Nikita
Ooooohhh Nikita....I really love this one!! It is funny and serious and shows that the two can be and are friends. Btw...I love everything you write luv...you are quite talented! :)
I really love the part about you running late! LOL Do all subbies do that??:rolleyes:
So...did ya practice...huh??...did ya??? Inquiring and perverted minds wanna know!:D
Rebecca's Revenge
"Revenge is mine, saith the Lord!"
Rebecca's words bellowed triumphantly, as glistening tears streamed down her soft cheeks. At last she could hold her head up high and proud. The limp and lifeless body that lay naked between her spread knees had earlier screamed a chorus of agony, but now the mouth refused to sing anymore sweet notes for her. Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply then scowled; his filthy blood reeked of evil. The stench of a sinner! She smiled. Yes, but not strong enough to eliminate the gratifyingly unsoured smell of revenge. No longer begging and pleading for mercy, his deathly silence now washed her with peace and tranquillity she had once thought not possible. Reaching across to the bedside table she picked up the tattered bible, then holding it to her bosom, she whispered, "Praise the Lord. Cleansed—cleansed at last..."
Revenge is an ugly emotion. It's a poison that threatens the purity of your very soul. It's an abscess that time allows to fester into a ghastly wound. The more you try to fight it, the stronger it becomes until you feel as if it controls your very being. It's a frightful demon that possesses you and needs to be exorcised. You need to rid yourself of it, or you will never be righteous and clean. You can not enter the kingdom of heaven with tainted and impure thoughts of vengeance and loathing in your heart. You must rid yourself of the unpaid misdeeds of those who have sinned against you. You must cleanse your very soul...
Just a short time earlier his tears had fallen freely as he begged her. "No, Rebecca! Please, Rebecca! Don't do it!"
'No Father Paul! Please, please don't...' The trembling voice of a child echoed inside her head, her own words taunting and torturing. After today, they would haunt her no more.
The Lord moves in mysterious ways.
"Please, Rebecca. I beg you!" His pleads were like cruel barbs tearing open old wounds that had become toxic with bitterness and disgust, urging her on and giving her the divine strength required to do what needed to be done.
His chest heaved and his face glistened with sweat as he twisted and struggled, unable to free himself from bondage of the metal bands holding her hands and feet.
Her fresh and lovely face contorted and her eyes blackened with rage as she mined deep into her soul for the lode of cold hatred hidden beneath a guise of beauty, youth and innocence for so many years. Grabbing hold of his flaccid organ, she slashed the knife across his scrotum. He howled a hollow scream caused her to hesitate and recoil. Immediately blood sprayed from the gapping wound and splattering across her pale skin then pulsed out to form an ever-widening stain on the white sheets
God's children must be strong and brave.
"Please, Rebecca..." he pleaded, his voice now low and husky—almost a whisper between his whimpering and sniffling.
Wrapping her blood-smeared fingers around his penis shaft, she lifted the knife again. He gasped, and his watery eyes widened and bulged.
"Please. No!"
She gazed down. She smiled and slowly nodded, then she slashed the silver blade with full and hateful vigour to sever the evil tool from his convulsing body. A heavy gush of his warm blood squirted up over her belly and trickled down between her legs soaking her soft pubic hair. He screamed—a long harrowing squall of pain. Rebecca smiled. Every minute of his suffering needed to be savoured. No longer a strong or young man, how much could his now aged body take? His mouth dropped open and his lower lip quivered slightly before his face appeared to swell up and turn an odd shade of purple. He gasped a couple of times as if unable to breath, then his face lost its colour entirely, and his eyes dropped open to stare vacantly up at the ceiling.
"Praise the Lord..."
Rebecca held the severed phallic up and let the warm blood trickle down her arm. Today she had done a brave and noble thing. Angels in heaven would rejoice that one of Satan's servants had been slain.
Wow! Leave it to Alex to show us how to pack a bucket full of strong feelings and raw emotion into 700 words or less.Quote:
Originally Posted by Alex Bragi
You've been away too long Alex, welcome back!
And about our date Saturday;) … I'm going to be a bit busy…the gutters need cleaning and.. uhm I was going to church that day any way…:D
A great and bloody well-done short.
Mad Lews
Alex:
My hair is standing on end...:eek: Your story was hair raising, (did I repeat myself?) in that revenge, sometimes, is best served cold. As a silent reader of your previous posts, in my humble opinion, this was an appropriate addition to 'ShortTakes. :D
Nikita
Nikita: Ha, I always knew these 'activity questionnaires' were merely an invitation to arbitrary despotism! Now I wanna watch her biker type husband jump as she snaps her fingers, please? (Bah, who needs silly collars. :p )
Alex: Mmmm revenge stories. I think I have a special faible for desperate pleading in the face of imminent doom. :)
Aged body :( ... oh well, too bad, I guess avengers can't be choosers.
Great shorts (and longs)!
Mad: you're convincing us you ARE a romantic. Stop that this minute! (please Sir, of course :) )
Pej: I failed at filling in the blanks too...
Nik: I love your analogies! twists and candor :) Did you ever get to use the bathroom??
Alex: Fantastic revenge story... raised the hair on my arms too.
Mo: Done with finals anytime soon? I'm still looking forward to the rest of that story :)
Alex....all I can manage here is a huge WOW! That was one helluva short luv! Excellent!
And it's good to see you dropping in orchid luv! kisses