Oct 292013
 

Sammy and the GagThe initial request was for the room at the end of the hall, next to the heating and air. That was room 106. He spoke with the manager, made financial arrangements, and the room was theirs.

She arrived shortly after he did. Following unspoken orders, she stripped and proceeded to tighten the gag around the back of her head, tightly. It was a rule that she had to have her gag on her person at all times.

He turned up the T.V. for background noise. They barely noticed that the air-conditioning was out by the time they were focused on each other. The mingling of sweat, tears, and juices made the room smell like sex, and seem to be warmer in temperature for it.  A cold shower cooled them both; and they were on their way.

Shortly after the guests of 106 had arrived, maintenance alerted management that the air-conditioning system for the entire wing was freezing up. The manager sent Sammy to turn the A/C down in every room down the wing, except 106, as it was occupied. When he got to 105, he made his way to the thermostat, but was stopped in his tracts by the sounds coming through the thin walls of the room next door. They had the T.V. on. That wasn’t what caught his attention.

Sammy heard the man’s voice speaking in a heavy tone. He heard the slapping of flesh against flesh. Even through the gag that Sammy was unaware of, he could still hear muffled cries of a female.  His excitable cock sprung to life. He stumbled onto the bed and ripped it from his trousers. He shot his glistening load into a handful of tissues while listening to room 106.

A month went by before Sammy noticed that she had arrived before him. That never happened. She entered the room and Sammy asked another employee to watch the desk while he went to take a piss. He took off in a quick jog towards the direction of room 106. Sammy knocked on the door a few times. He could hear skittering inside.

“Management.  Please open the door.”

She was already undressed and gagged. The knock completely threw her off. She was trying to unhook the back of her gag so she could at least get it down around her neck enough to peek out the door. She wrapped herself up in a towel.

She opened the door only a smidgen. Sammy jammed his foot inside and pushed right passed her. She immediately told him to get out. Sammy closed and locked the door behind him. He turned to her, her gag hanging from her neck. He’d wrestle away her towel, pin and gag her. He would enjoy fucking her for the ten minutes it took him to get off.

She screamed and huffed into a ball that would not hear any of it. Her cell phone was *dinging* with a message saying that He was going to be about twenty minutes late.

Oct 162013
 

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 062013
 

BeetleThe blonde put a strain on the already squealing brakes of her old VW Bug. A busty girl with a hell of a tan ran out of a house and slammed the screen door. Sunglasses bobbling, the back of her thighs slid across the worn leather seat. She loved that summer sting on the back of her thighs.

“Tell your Mama you’re sleeping over?”

“Yep. You?”

“Yep.”

Second gear stuck, but it was summer and they had opportunities waiting.

Two little redneck girls sashayed into the “Modeling Agency” at two O’clock. They gave the receptionist their names and re-glossed their lips. A few minutes later out popped the man they were supposed to meet. That Rick guy. He was all smiles. He ushered them into his office. It was ornate for a strip-mall business. He arranged to have his receptionist take one girl away to get a polaroid while he spoke with the other.

The busty girl walked into the room with music pumping through the speakers. She walked to the “X” in front of the camera. The receptionist informed her that at this agency, they want you to smile and take pictures of your best assets. She said that The Agency liked for it to be a fun experience. It was, for a little while. The music was loud and she was dancing. The receptionist played her part. She put her chips in. The girl never saw the pictures, but they were all polariods, and they all went into a file marked 74.

The blonde had been in his office answering perfectly normal questions about scheduling around shoots and traveling mixed in with the personal information that he actually needed. She was the one who volunteered their alibi for that very night, thinking it was a funny quip, funny indeed. After her interview, she was unknowingly asked questions about her friends, boyfriends, school, medications, family, money, etc… He had to end the interview with her. History Completed – File #75.

They switched girls, but the situation was exactly the same. Only the file numbers were different.

When everyone filed back into Rick’s office, the two girls sat in the chairs facing his desk. Different men began entering the room, keeping silent, but taking place. He bumped eye contact between different men around the room and the girls.

The air was heavy with excitement and naivety until Rick broke the silence.

“You’ve both been selected to enter The Agency.”

He explained to them about The Training House that they would both be moved to immediately. Once they graduated, they would be available to The Academy Slave Block, where each of them would no doubt bring in large sums of money, bringing pride to both The Academy and The Training House.

That was it. Both girls were obviously confused. Their attempts to interrupt were thwarted.

As soon as Rick stopped speaking, four of the suits took hold of the girls to escort them out of the office and into the vehicle that would take them to the house.

The blonde girl screamed as she wrestled with the men that overpowered her, “This is NOT what we signed up for!”

Rick chuckled, set his drink down and slid off the corner of his desk. He sauntered over and pinched her cheek forcefully.

“I know. I signed you up for it.”

 See who else is being wicked this Wednesday…

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Sep 072013
 

I have a confession to make. There are sand dunes in my submission brain. I’m craving for a shot of D-type.  I believe I’m going through some kind of submission withdrawals. I’ve not even let myself mentally release the last few times that I’ve played.

I’m topping in my local group, due to a serious lack of education.  That’s not what I want to do. I’m a sadist. I’m not a D-type. It’s got my filter all off kilter.  My writing has become darker. It’s less about logical BDSM relationships and more about the scarier side of life in general. You haven’t seen what sits, waiting to be worked on, and their levels of boundary-crossing afflictions.

I wonder if this is what happens when a submissive starts to dry up.

Jun 172013
 

going outTen years ago she received a necklace and a pair of heels from a wish list that she’d seen no harm in making public. Since then he’d followed her on various social networks. She didn’t know who he was. From what she’d caught about him on the internet, he was into some intense kink. That didn’t interest her. It enthralled her.

For all these years that he’d “been with her,” he’d never tried to do anything but let her know that he was watching. For as long as she’d “been with him,” she’d never done anything but let him watch.

Sometimes it was a post-it on her front door. A text.  A drink from a bartender, the message written on a napkin. Reaching out over the internet behind one blank face or another.

You are Mine. I’m watching you.

A change in phone numbers, then locations for a job. She thought it would end.

Then the same thing.

You are mine. I’m watching.

Through relationships, fuck-and-goes, and extra-friendly sleepovers.

You are Mine. I am watching.

Sometimes she’d wonder if her actions angered him. If she was in danger. If she should call the police. If he’d ever produce himself and expect something. Or if he’d ever become more obsessive.

She’d wonder.

And then she’d get wet.
Because she knew he was watching.


elustbutton200

Jun 162013
 

Chintz Curtain Condoms

Photo courtesy of Behind the Chintz Curtain

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #48? Start with the newly updated rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

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Erotic Non-Fiction

Sexentric News and Public Cam-Sex Report
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So I Asked SilverHubby About Our Orgasms
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How To Make A Woman Orgasm
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Return of the Vulcan Penis Problem
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BDSM Lexicon Entry #24: Aftercare

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Mad Men: the dominance of Don Draper
Wicked Wednesday – Knowing When to Say No
Why Do I Like Being Owned?
The difference between BDSM & Abuse


elustbutton200

Jun 042013
 

SuckITsThe office had been quiet. She was ready to turn things up; and did so by noticeably perching on the corner of desks around the office.

He came out of his office on Friday and called her in to see him just  a few minutes before five. A slap and a crash and half of the office raced to their cars as the clock hit time. The other half rode the fence, listening, before knowing they had no reason to stay other than to listen.

Cleaning would take care of the lamp.

It was a small slap that took her by surprise more than anything.  She thought his hand was offered to help her up. “While you’re down there.”  It was for her hair. It was for her to suck him. He held her face down on him. She gasped, sobbed and gagged her way through it. It was embarrassing. She swallowed all of him and he put his dick up.

“You sit on my desk. Understand, cunt?”

She was in a state. Smeared make-up and a sad search for heels. He got an overwhelmed nod from her.

“Out, Now”

She staggered, like a new fucking filly, learning her legs on the way to the car. The mouth-fucking was over, but the mind-fucking had just gotten started.