Category Archives: Fleshbot

It’s hot, one of those sticky, sweaty days you dream about in the dead of winter.

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We’re flopped on the couch, watching movies, but even following the plot seems like too much effort.

“If it weren’t so damn hot, I’d wanna fuck,” Nick says, tilting the fan to blow across our faces.

“Me too, I answer, “But ugggggh.” I get up to refresh our drinks.

“Lots of ice this time,” he calls out.

I return, handing Nick his drink, the glass already dripping with condensation. A dribble falls on his belly and slides down, disappearing under the waist of his shorts. I’m suddenly mesmerized.

I fish one ice cube from my glass and hold it between my fingers. I place it on his neck and he shudders with pleasure. I drag the ice slowly along the top of his shoulder, it melts into a little cascade down his chest. I grab another.  Continue reading →

“I’m sorry, did you say you want me to pee on you?”

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I look at Shane incredulously. He nods enthusiastically, his eyes bright and eager. I always try to be a good sport about trying new things, but this one throws me. I say that I’ll think about it and get back to him.

Every time I shower for the next couple weeks I try to pee standing up. It’s not easy. As a girl it’s been so completely ingrained to sit that I can only force out a few pathetic drops. This isn’t going to satisfy anyone. The girls in the porn flicks seem to piss out gallons and I know that’s what Shane wants. I watch video after video of girls peeing on girls, girls peeing on guys and every other combination.

I keep trying. Shane asks me occasionally how it’s going. I notice the hope in his eyes when I have to pee right before sex, and the disappointment when I tell him I’m not ready yet.

One day, I drink two big glasses of water and hold it until I’m nearly ready to burst, then I get in the shower. I hold the shower head between my legs and close my eyes. As I relax, it pours out of me in a big warm stream.

I tell Shane I’m ready. Continue reading →

Your ferocity unfolds, a dangerous blossom with petals made of knives.

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Blood lust boils to the surface, emerges as you pin my shoulders to the bed. All cruel things, all dark intents are given fresh life in your eyes. Channeled down from your brain to your hands to my body, your thoughts become my reality.

I want to ache from your whims. Wrap your fingers in my hair, compel me to be still. Hold the vibrator to my clit until I’ve spent every last drop of fluid, then force me to come again. Fingers, cock, dildos, fists, cram it all in, stretch me to the limit. Fill me with you.

Restrain me. Make my hands useless little clenching butterflies. Pin me to the bed like a specimen to be opened and examined. Tie the ropes tighter. Make me ache to wrap my legs around your waist, to pull you closer.

Leave me a drooling, mewling mess. Let my cries and screams and moans be muffled. Watch me choke on your cock, tears rolling down my face. Hold my head tight against your groin as your dick tickles the back of my throat.

Clamps on my nipples, my breasts, the tender inside skin of my wrists. Make the clothespins on my cunt clatter as you fuck me. Blindfold me, take away my sight. All your movements become meaningless blurs and shadows. Noises sharpen, even familiar sounds amplify, create equal fright and longing.

I want my suffering to please you as much as my coming. Shower me with little kisses. Wipe away the drool and the snot and the come and tell me I’m your good girl. Such a good girl.

I love it when you masturbate.

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I ask if I can watch and you blush and shyly say yes. You still aren’t used to someone who doesn’t get mad when you touch yourself. You search for porn on the laptop, turn it on and look at me one more time to make sure I’m really not mad. I smile and tell you how beautiful you are, sitting there with your cock in your hand.

You turn your face to watch the screen, but you leave your body in profile for me. Leaning back in your chair, you relax, cupping your balls, the first tentative strokes increase. Images flash on your laptop screen: cocks of all sizes, pink pussies, gaping assholes, boys fucking boys, girls fucking boys with fists and strap-ons. The people in the videos moan and yell, slap and fuck. The sound of your breath quickens, your ancient office chair creaks, the lube on your cock is wet and thick.

I’m hypnotized by your hands. I follow each practiced stroke up and down your shaft. I love the contrast of your strong hands against the smooth pink of your cock. You glance at me to see if I’m still watching from across the room. Sometimes I touch myself too, but I prefer to watch you, losing yourself deeper and deeper in pleasure. Continue reading →

I can’t move my upper arms.

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Nick has bound them tightly to my sides with a long sheet of plastic wrap. My breasts are squashed flat against my chest. I try to inhale deeply, the plastic tightens and prevents me from moving. He winds the plastic around and around, then tears it along the edge of the box.

Nick is taking an unusual delight in restraining me. He doesn’t understand why someone would want to be tied up, but he does it anyway, for me. His eyes are distant, I can see him thinking of possibilities. He tells me to get on my knees. Nick wraps the plastic around my wrists, fastening them to my thighs. I’m left unable to move my arms or hands, save for my fingertips.  Continue reading →

“Get your hand off my thigh,” I say to Tim.

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“I’m looking for a better parking spot.” I’m in no mood. I hate going to the mall, but I need to buy one last-minute gift.

“You passed one three rows ago,” he says, sounding annoyed. Tim hasn’t moved his hand, in fact, he’s snaking it dangerously close to my pussy.

I stop the car mid-row. A woman in a green SUV behind me honks and flashes her headlights. I ignore her.

“Here?” I turn to ask him. “Now? Really?” The woman honks again.

Tim doesn’t say anything, instead he starts to unzip my pants.

“Jesus. Fine. Let me park,” I say, batting his hand away. The SUV maneuvers around me, just barely scraping each of our vehicles. I circle towards the outer edge of the mall parking lot, but just then a spot opens up. I pull in. Continue reading →

I come in a blurred frenzy as Jay works his hand in and out of me.

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I arch, buckle, scream, curve, collapse. Jay carefully wipes his hand off on a towel, then lies down next to me.

“That’s really the last time, you know,” he says sorrowfully. I rest my head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me closer.

“I know,” I answer, trying to speak over the lump in my throat.

We’ve had our one last time for the third time now, we’re reluctant to stop. She’s come back, and he needs to know. Things are getting too complicated. It’s painful, we’ve been over every angle dozens of times, but the only solution is to stop being lovers.

“I’ll call you,” he says, and I know he will. We stand on my porch and hold each other for a long time. His arms are warm, safe. I nuzzle the space between his shoulder and neck, inhaling his earthy scent. I want to keep this next moment from happening, but it does. As Jay plants a kiss on top of my head, I feel him wipe away his own tears. This is really it, no more one-more-times. Continue reading →

“Wanna?” I ask Will.

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He shrugs, eyes still focused on the computer screen. If I want to get laid, I’m going to have to work for it.

I leave Will gazing at his laptop and head for the bedroom. Opening the dresser, I dig out a pair of black fishnets. I pull them on, ripping the crotch wide open. I rifle through the closet, looking for the tiny black skirt I know he likes.

“Are you looking for something sexy to put on?” he calls out hopefully from the next room.

“Maybe,” I answer.

I search the closet for the black skirt another moment, then give up. Instead I find a silky black slip from the dresser that I’d forgotten about. I squeeze into a black lace bra that threatens to heave my tits overboard. My hair, released from its bun, falls in soft black waves against my shoulders. I feel like a pin-up model, maybe one of the Vargas girls. This will certainly do. Continue reading →

Mister smacks me across the mouth.

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“Behave,” he says. ”You’re really being a fucking brat.”

Tonight we aren’t playing. I’m really resisting him, but I don’t know why. I’m spoiling for a fight and I want to push back. Something deep in me feels poisoned, twisted. Storm clouds are brewing and I don’t want to stop it.

“What’s your safeword? Do you remember it?” Mister asks. He’s not sure what’s going on with me, this is his way of checking in.

“Yes,” I hiss.

“Well, what is it?” he squeezes my face, hard. I can already picture the bruises forming under his fingertips.

“Orange. Fucking. Crush.” I spit every word out as if I’m offended. I am. I know what I want.

“Do you want to use it now?” he tries to ask me as evenly as possible. A hair’s edge of tension creeps in around the edges.

“No.” I turn away from him.

“Knees, now,” he orders.

I take my time. Exasperated, he wrenches my arms behind my back, binds my hands, then shoves his entire cock in my mouth. I bite down against his flesh. Not hard, but with enough pressure to make him flinch. I wince as he firmly smacks my face. Stars bloom before my eyes, my ears ring. Continue reading →

“Did you come?” asks Will.

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“No,” I huff in frustration. “I just can’t get there. It’s me, not you.”

Will wipes his hand off on the towel. I lay back on the bed and stare at the ceiling while he lights a cigarette. I hate this. We’ve both agreed that sometimes one of us just can’t come and it’s no one’s fault. It just is, but it’s no less frustrating when it happens.

I watch Will as he reclines in the chair, still naked. A streak of sunshine cuts across one shoulder, highlighting a gentle curve in his arm. I watch his muscles flex as moves around, lights a cigarette, takes a drink. I’m so lucky I found him, we’re a perfect fit for each other, he’s smart, funny, an incredible fuck. I love the arch of his back, the slight bend of his cock…

“What?” I catch Will watching me just as intently.  I realize I’ve been slowly dipping my finger in and out of my cunt while I watch him.

“Masturbate for me,” he says. Continue reading →