Sep 052014
 

Robin Lorinthrope’s phone pinged. She was over five minutes late leaving the office. She stood, running her hands down her curvy frame. Her black skirt accentuated her legs. She clicked her heels right out of the building.

She left at 6:06pm. Her phone recorded and alerted at the time. She had drinks with a friend at a posh little plug-in place down the street from the office. Robin used a step counter to see how many steps she took in a day. When she walked a lot, her phone pinged away like an electronic bird, begging for attention. Robin’s blonde, pigtailed icon alerted her of a benchmark. A picture of her with new pink running shoes congratulated her on her next level.

Robin enjoyed her free time for 46 minutes. She and her friend spoke about absolutely nothing and completely everything. One of her apps tracked her. It announced her location with a widespread photo of her in a red slouchie beanie and big sun glasses.

Her electronic calender put her into a cab with three dings, then in front of the nice big house she called home. Robin hightailed it upstairs and into her room. Clothes threatened to burst out of her closet in her very presence. Hangers were landmines, and everything held something else.

Robin tossed her phone into her overstuffed, unmade bed. The bedding was precious. Soft pinks and whites in layers. She kicked off her heels and reached for the zipper of her skirt. The consistent pings from her cell phone made the atmosphere tense. She raced to undress and re-hang her day’s attire.

She slid across the carpeted floor. Robin yanked out a t-shirt and a pair of panties from her dresser. She rolled into the t-shirt, yanking her hair in front of her face as she hustled. Robin used her feet to push the flimsy material of her thongs down the rest of her body. The leg holes stretched and tangled around her ankles.

She heard the door slam while she was one leg into a pair of boy shorts. She stopped skipping around. Robin quietly leaned against the wall and slid the other leg in. She ran her hand through her hair. She was silent.

“ROBIN!” His tone said ‘run and hide’.

And there it was.

Robin swung her door open. and cried downstairs, “Coming, Daddy!”

She saw that he was not as nipped and tucked as he usually was. Daddy looked stressed. Maybe Robin didn’t pick the best day to play office. Maybe she should have asked first. Daddy owned an Accounting Firm and sometimes, Robin liked to dress-up like a big girl and go work at Daddy’s office.

He planned them them, on slow days. He fucked her in his office. The first time, he just slid her thongs to the side. Those panties have never been washed. The smell of them make him hard. He put her on her knees under his desk. They teased, nipped, and grinned, up until her mouth was prime for the rutting.

Daddy was having an issue with one of his auditors, and a client that called him directly. The client called every five minutes and with problems his auditor had the responsibility of solving. Five minutes after he finished wrestling his day-long problem, he looked out of his office to see Robin talking on one of the company phones. No permission.

Daddy explained to her that she walked right out of the office and was gone. She never came into his private office to tell him that she was there. She had a phone that pinged and beeped, but when Daddy needed her, he fell into the company of all those ridiculous alerts.

“Now go get that goddamn phone,” He was furious.

She followed the dings and the pings until she found her phone buried in her bed. He met her upstairs in her room. She offered the sing-song device to him. He took in the messy sight and moved past the pouting girl. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and made himself comfortable. *Ping*

“Leave the phone beside me. I want you…. here.” He pulled her down and over his lap. She cried out, but knew the punishment was coming.

“I already know it’s going to hurt! How many? *PING*How many, Daddy?” Robin was already crying about the spanking she was afraid of getting.”

“I’ll stop once that phone goes silent.”

*PING*

Oct 162013
 
OUT

OUTHe slung her across the quaint living room. She was received into his stone fireplace like a naked wrecking ball. Her fear was immeasurable. She was inside now, with him. Bruises, cuts, and much more were hushed by adrenalin.  Hyperventilation was never more than a moment away. She shook.

She wasn’t scared of the likelihood that she would forever be locked away in his mountain forest of snares. She was scared because there was no likelihood. Her new station was unequivocal. He would not have done this unless he was completely prepared. She was terrified because she believed him. No one would find her.

She’d suffered him before, but with slipped absolutes and excessive beatings. There was no closure to their prior relationship. She broke free of it. The mental abuse took longer to shake. Now she imagined him, limitless and with no accountability. It was fearfully inconceivable.

She saw a future of torture, masquerading as punishment and lessons. He had unlimited access to who he would decide to mold her into. Her silence was a mixture of how blindingly certain her fate was, and her slow descent into a hole of lost hope. His ability to destroy her mind was starting. She was afraid of it as much as the beatings. Once he was in her head, he was everywhere.  He would own every part of her. He wouldn’t let her go. She pleaded to God and Anyone Listening. He would kill her. He would destroy her mind.

He saw the harsh realization, even in her body. Her eyes became more vacant. She flinched at his touch. He wanted to comfort her. He didn’t want to go through a period of her hating him. He hoped he wouldn’t have to teach her about flinching again. Those were long, hard lessons for her. He hoped that she’d remember some of her time with him. He wanted her to be a good girl for him. She was always such a good girl, but she left him. She ran. They were going to deal with that punishment later.

He wrapped his arms around her. He needed to support her. He knew that she need to process this information and come to comprehend how it would change her future.

He tightened his arms around her. She was shaking. Absorbing the fear and reality, she finally started to cry. She whispered…

“Get the fuck off me.”

He punched her in the face.

Oct 012013
 
Bitemarks

BitemarksShe belonged to both of them. Thomas owned her for two years prior to the decision to bring Brian into the relationship. Thomas and Brian were life-long friends and roommates. Having Brian living in the guest room of the large apartment was a natural fit. Although the two men’s relationship was purely platonic, they both shared similar interests in slaves. The decision to share the girl was an obvious one for the lot.

Thomas was Master. Thomas was thorough. He was detailed. He was a suit. He never missed anything. He was strict. He wanted her to meet his expectations. He wanted her to achieve goals that she’d set for herself inside and outside of the relationship. He pushed her when she needed to be pushed. He listened to her when she needed to speak. She laughed with him. She cried with him. They were hand in glove.

Brian was Sir. Brian led a cavalier lifestyle. He worked at a bar in the city at night. He spent hours at the gym during the day.  He often benefitted from Thomas’ advice. He was spontaneous. He enjoyed her service.

Brian and Thomas both had different sexual needs. Thomas challenged her to give herself to him. She enjoyed his happiness. She loved being in his sexual service.

Brian was primal. He enjoyed her in an animalistic way. He wanted a game. He wanted her to fear him. He watched her during the day for any insignificant mistake, ones that Thomas would overlook as adjustments to day-today activity. Brian liked to take those puny missteps as sexual blackmail. She knew that there would be no consequences from Thomas. Brian savored in the mind fuck. Part of her enjoyed this. She didn’t understand why. She never purposely gave Brian an excuse.

On this day, she would be out all afternoon. The morning included daily laundry, a vacuum of the apartment, and the dishes. Diner was at seven. That gave her enough time to do the shopping and get back to prepare it.

She roamed from room to room, doing a supply checklist for the home. She’d need to make several unforeseen stops. This would affect her routine vastly. Around five she had the prudence to call Thomas and ask for an eight o’clock dinner.

He told her he was fine with that. There was an issue with a client and he hoped to be home by eleven. On the scarce occurrences that Thomas was not there for the seven o’clock meal, she left a plate in the fridge, but freshened it up when he arrived home.

He told her make sure that Brian was fine with it. She called Brian’s cell phone three times, every 15 minutes for a period of forty-five minutes. He did not answer. By default, she went with Thomas’ orders.

Her afternoon of late shopping was evident when Brian strolled into the kitchen and was met with counters topped full of groceries overflowing their bags. Evidence of all her trips, the bakery, the market, florists, the cleaners, all caught his attention. He was secretly impressed at her.

She popped up on the other side of the kitchen with a smile and an embellished sigh. He opened the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and headed to the couch. “Yeah, your busy day is all over the kitchen.”

“I asked Master if it would be alright if we could change dinner to eight instead of seven. He said that he wouldn’t be home until late because of clients, so it would be fine, as long as it was ok with you. I tried your cell phone three times, Sir. Since I couldn’t get ahold of you I went with Master’s plan.”

“I was at the gym, and technically, no. You didn’t ask me.”

She had been nervously hopping about the kitchen, and putting things away until he spoke. She slowed and met him with silence. That moment gave him what he wanted. He would get more. Her voice was confessing an account and praying for justification.

She glanced at the clock. Seven –thirty-two. He stood up and finished his beer. He let the baseball game play on while he walked to the kitchen and grabbed her by the hair. He pulled her into his room.  Her footfalls were frenzied.

He slammed the door, then her up against it.  He began to strip himself as well her. With his own clothes, he dashed through. With her clothes, he treated them like wrapping paper on a present, threads ripped, zippers popped.

“You lied to your Master. You told him that you’d do as he said, as long as I gave you my permission. Three phone calls is not the same thing as my permission.”

“I asked Master….” Her voice and the excuse seemed paltry, but his hand was strong and forceful as it struck across her cheek.

“That’s not the same thing.”

Brian leaned in on her. He huffed up and down her neck and into her hair. She felt him growing against her.

He put both hands around the back of her neck and pulled her forehead to his lips.  He kissed her in a gentle, loving way. Her body molded to his. He was warm. He had her sweet, unassuming submission. He treasured that.

He wanted her to fear him. Fortunately for him, he didn’t have far to go. He released her, edging her back with one large hand wrapped around her throat.

She wasn’t allowed to touch their hands, beg, or speak unless spoken to while in this position, unless given permission. His hand was as loose as it could be against her throat, so she knew that this was the beginning of the game.

“It’s hard not to crawl on you. Rip you to shreds. I have to leave you in decent shape. And of course I can’t just tell my best friend that I got carried away and damaged our girl.”

His jaw tightened with his fist around her throat. Her air was gone so fast, and the words she heard so harsh. Both caught her completely off guard.

He let her go completely and she fell like bricks to the ground, gasping and coughing. He chuckled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He reached out and dragged her to him by her hair. He pulled her up between his legs. His fat dick was hanging in front of her, like a weapon of pride. His hand wrapped around her pained neck. His thumb rubbed out a perfect spot for his teeth. She would endure his animalistic biting until he broke the skin and her tears mixed with the blood. His teeth cut into her shoulders once her neck began bruising and swelling, blood running between teeth marks. It made it almost impossible to see where to attack next. Under her chin and even her cheeks had been purchased by the sharpness of his teeth.

She sobbed and begged for mercy, even tried to push him away. Brian held her close and decided only to allow her air when she displayed behavior acceptable to him.

“Now you’ve got a little fight, huh?”

Instead of a allowing her to answer, he slapped her. He loved the confusion he saw in her. He stood and went straight for his pile of discarded clothes. He came back with his belt.

She had taken the opportunity to move to the other side of the bed. There was nowhere to run from him. She couldn’t hide, and her face stung. However, fear and pain will do funny things to people.

He moved on top of his bed and simply looped the belt around her throat, pulling her up and onto the bed. He found her hiding place and his ability to hook her quite amusing.

“I’m going to choke the fuck out of you. Do you understand?” He smiled down to her.

She clawed at the belt. He loosened it so that she he could stuff his cock down her throat. Her tears and gagging originally came from him choking her, but now it was his dick that caused the pain from the inside. He held her face. He fucked her mouth until he reached the brink. He pulled out and let her head drop like a stone onto the bed.

“Roll over, I want your ass.”

He slapped her right ass cheek hard enough to rock her. She turned on him and shoved him, slapping against his chest as she screamed for him to stop. Every word spoken and turn to her body was a stinging reminder of the bites he had marked her with.

He’d allow for her arms to flail. He’d let her have her fight. He loved it when she thought she was going to get somewhere, and might have the hope of escape. His favorite part was crushing that hope. Each time he pinned an arm, or a leg, or grabbed a fistful of hair; he took that hope.

She knew that in the end, he always won. He acquiesced when it came to her fighting back, because he enjoyed it. When it was said and done, his cock ploughed through any hole he wanted. Part of her hated it, but she still screamed when he made her cum.

 

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May 232013
 

He was parked across the street for thirty minutes. For as long as I’ve been doing this, I’m going to take a guess that he was early and she was late.

A mood, this one was; a stumble and a cuss; a grin and a flush.

They sat in the back. Voices traveled a bit. She was naturally loud. He said “No,” a lot.

I laughed at her. Good heels and nice nails weren’t getting her very far with this guy. At some point, I don’t think she had sweet smile left in her.

When I thought she was going to give in and order a drink in, I’m guessing he shot that down too. My happy hour was starting to straggle in, presented with their liquid gold without need of request. After about an hour, I glanced up and they were leaving. He gave me an easy smile and a wave. It was her, though. She looked like she’d been through the wringer. Mascara smeared with a blinded effort to keep it in it’s carefully applied position, her hair had lost it’s bounce and there was none of the blow-job red that had curled with the trace of her lips.

But she was smiling.

 

Dec 312012
 
faster

fasterThings get familiar. But when he asked for something… and she huffed, he slowly got up as well.

When he came back with the restraints, her eyes went wide and her chin lifted to the side in question.

“I need to teach you something.”

She had gotten thirsty. Her mouth was dry.

In one fail swoop he had her by the hair, turned, and on the floor.

She was scared. She was scared of him like she hadn’t been in a while.

He began with the cane. She scooted, tucking her ass as much as she could. He had her tied tightly.

He gritted his teeth.

“Faster… Beg for me to go faster.”

Sultry Saturday

Kink of the Week

Dec 092012
 
time out

time outHer mind wonders. She thinks about what’s going through his his.

He watches her from behind and wants to run his tongue from her hip to her bra strap.

He wants to pull it with his teeth and then snatch at it until the thin lace and elastic fibers scream and give way.

He’d have her hair in his mouth.

He’d bury his head in her hair.

He wants her scent. Sniffing her neck and up to her jawline.

Her heart would begin to beat faster. He’d be able to feel it against his own.

Part of her would begin to panic.

She would realize that he was going to take her.

And also… that time out wasn’t so bad.

Sep 192012
 
over his knee

This was her punishment. Fear and anxiety bundled her nerves. Together they crawled from deep in her belly to the bottom of her throat. This was the first time. Following …what she thought were his..  directions, she would just lightly place herself over him. She wasn’t sure how this was going to go. She thought this would be fine. In hindsight, he obviously enjoyed her naivety. That embarrassed her. It was part of her lesson.

He was quick, snatching her into a more off-balanced version. Off balanced for her. Perfectly balanced for him. His weight easily pinned her. Her arm was twisted and her wrist pinned to her back, causing her an instant amount of sharp pain that shot to her shoulder. That pain would have left her in shock had it not been followed by the intensity of the first blow. It sent a blast of ache through her body. Each strike shocked her as much as the last. She never had a moment to process before the next one.

It’s shaking me.

He’s shaking my world.

Literally.

She didn’t know how right she was.

There’s nothing to hold on to. He’s holding onto me.

The solid handling of her and the continued precise placements made the pain radiate. She was learning her lesson as the world continued to shake.

May 022012
 

He doesn’t know that he writes to me. He has no idea that his words run through me like an electric shock. They throw me off kilter.

He doesn’t know that he writes about me. Sometimes she’s so similar that I’m embarrassed of her mouthy remarks. I never blame him for punishing her, but something makes me want to scream to him, “I know better!”

He doesn’t know that I read his words with my face really close to the screen. I stop to catch my breath. I shake my head, unsure why he’d think I’d do that, who he’d talked to, and how he knew.

Then I realize, he doesn’t know me at all.