BDSM

We retire to the living room after dinner.

/ Daisy Danger / 4 Comments

“Strawberry or vanilla?” Mister asks from the doorway, holding a small carton of ice cream in each hand. “Never vanilla,” coos Anya.

The three of us squeeze together on a small plaid sofa, a DVD  I’ve missed the title of plays on the television. I try to look interested, but I can’t follow the plot. The tension of the moment is giving me a headache, I wish one of them would make a move. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t invited over just to be fed. Finally, as if he read my mind, Mister leans over me, plants a hand firmly against my crotch, and kisses Anya. When Anya leans over to kiss him back, Mister places her hand on my thigh. They kiss inches from my face, neither acknowledging my presence save for their hands.

Anya radiates longing, but she isn’t sure what to do with me in the middle. Mister grabs a handful of her hair, she moans, I try not to whimper.  I know his firm grip, how Mister pulls my hair just so, how that hard tug means I’m nothing but a possession to him. I moan again from the memory. He finally looks at me, but it’s a dismissive flicker before he turns his attention back to Anya.

“Bedroom,” Mister suddenly decides. “Both of you.” We silently untangle ourselves from the couch and go into the bedroom. Neither of us wants to be the first one to sit on the bed, the hierarchy is unclear.  Continue reading →

I bend over the kitchen counter.

/ Daisy Danger / 2 Comments

Some glitch has left the digital display on the microwave permanently dimmed, so the only way to read it is to get up close. We’re getting ready to make dinner. He’s standing behind me, looking at the contents of the cupboard.

Suddenly, the world turns white. A plastic shopping bag crinkles loudly around my head. My shorts and panties slide down my thighs, I step out of one side, leaving the other side to pool around my foot. His feet nudge my legs outward. I spread for him. My shirt lifts over my tits, he squeezes them hard after he exposes them.  Continue reading →

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

/ Daisy Danger / 1 Comment

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 can’t move my upper arms.

/ Daisy Danger / 3 Comments

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 →

“Is there anything else you’d like?” Nick asks.

/ Daisy Danger / 3 Comments

He’s totally spent. I know because I’ve drained him of every last drop. I’ve come too, more than once, but there is one more thing…

“Tie me up,” I say. “Tie me up and leave me.”

“Leave you?” He pauses, confused.  “Not fuck you more, just leave you?”

“Yes,” I answer. “Tie me up, go shower, smoke, read a bit, whatever you like. I’ll be fine.”

I know he doesn’t understand. Even having his hands tied makes him uncomfortable and not in a sexy submissive way. He can’t go there, it has no sexual connection for him at all.

“If that’s what you want,” he says finally.

Nick starts by looping the rope around my hands. That’s the minimum amount of bondage I need, the trigger that quiets my busy buzzing brain, the signal that nothing is in my control anymore. He winds the rope down my arms, binding them to my chest. The rope trails between my legs, tightens at the crotch, crosses over my thighs and ankles. With a sly grin, he loops it once around each big toe and fastens them together. He kisses each toe, then silently leaves the room.  Continue reading →

Mister smacks me across the mouth.

/ Daisy Danger / 5 Comments

“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 →

Anonymous

/ Daisy Danger / 2 Comments

[Daisy’s note: Changing things up a bit with this post…It’s my first attempt at writing erotic fiction, it’s also much, much longer than my usual stories. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.]

You wouldn’t think it possible to fall in love with a freckle. But there it is, the tiniest of brown marks, an uncharted island on the map of her mouth. It’s nearly invisible, but not to one who’s spent months searching for it.

The arrangement is peculiar, even by my standards, but it affords me my lifestyle. I haven’t another care in the world besides what shoes I should purchase next. Only extremes will satisfy me anymore, and this arrangement takes care of that financially and sexually. I’ve moved beyond  the desire for a constant physical companion, this arrangement meets all those needs.

Four or five times a week, by a pre-agreed schedule, I arrive after dark. It’s a non-descript, gray building, identical to the others in the small industrial park. The name of the business is so generic, it’s nearly impossible to Google, other than to pull up a map. I simply call it The Company.  The casual person would have no cause to bother, however. In directories it’s listed as a supplier to other companies.

The few casual acquaintances I permit myself merely think I simply work third shift in some mundane job, that perhaps my money is the result of smart investments or an inheritance. I plant the seed, and let it grow in their imaginations. I don’t bother to correct them, I live in their assumptions. My world is relatively uncomplicated and I like it that way. Continue reading →

“I’ve been fisted once,” I say, “accidentally.”

/ Daisy Danger / 12 Comments

“Accidentally?” Jay cocks a skeptical eyebrow.

“Boyfriend from a long time ago,” I explain. “He was fingering me and kept adding fingers until…whoops! I don’t know who was more surprised. Anyway, it frightened us both and kinda killed the mood. We didn’t know it was a ‘thing.’ We thought we did something wrong.”

“Let me fist you,” Jay says, “the right way.”

I’m feeling adventurous and horny, so I agree. Jay lubes up, completely coating his hand up to his wrist. His hand suddenly looks enormous. “Just two fingers for now,” Jay says. I’m surprised to find that I’m tense. Usually two fingers are no problem, but he has to work them in. I adjust the pillow behind my head. I can’t seem to get comfortable,  my neck aches with tension.

“Have I ever hurt you?” Jay asks. I tell him no, of course not. “Relax and trust me then,” he replies, “this will really be okay.” I feel a third finger slide in, I start to breathe deep to relax. I stop fighting it, I try to let my mind drift. I start thinking about being tied up and fucked, pretending his fingers are a giant cock…I squirt a little– now I’m definitely relaxed. Continue reading →

“Oh shit, stop! Stop!” I say to Mister.

/ Daisy Danger / 5 Comments

“I think I just peed a little. Fuck.”  Horrified, I start peeling the blankets off the bed.

“That wasn’t pee, you just squirted a little, that’s all,” Mister laughs, moving out of my way.

“Yeah,” I grumble, stripping the bed. “I squirted piss all over the clean sheets.”

Mister sits down at his laptop, then motions me to come over. He plays a video clip of a woman squirting fluid into a forceful high arc. “Look, I can make you do that,” he says confidently. “It’s so fucking hot when a chick squirts. I think you’d love it.” We watch several more videos purely for scientific research before I agree to let him try it on me.

I cover the bed with a beach towel as a precaution. Mister sits on the bed and pushes my knees apart. “If it feels like you need to pee, just go with it,” he tells me. Without warning, he slaps my pussy hard with his open hand. It startles me, but I like it. My pussy instantly feels warm and tingly. Continue reading →

Mister cracks open the door to see if I’m ready to leave yet.

/ Daisy Danger / 2 Comments

“Are you ready… hey, what’s that?” he asks, catching a flash of white and pink. Quickly, I close my robe. “Nothing for you to see right now,” I tease, pushing the door shut. “Let me finish getting dressed, we’ll miss the movie.”

I catch him glancing at me throughout the day. His hand snakes down the back of my jeans as I lean over to take a closer look at something in a store. “Uh uh,” I stand up and bat his hand away, “Later.” At the movie, I cover my lap with my jacket and unzip my pants. I guide his hand down to my crotch. “Oooh…bald,” he whispers as he rubs my pussy, “very nice.” I gently pull his hand away before he can work his fingers into my pussy. “Save it for later,” I whisper back.

By the time we get back to my house, Mister is in a frenzy. I had to convince him at least twice to not pull the car over on the way home. “Wait in there,” I point at my bedroom. “Hey, who’s the Dom here?” he asks with a smile. “Just go,” I point again, “I’ll be there in a sec.” I dash into the bathroom and wash all my makeup off , then I work my hair into two perky ponytails.  Continue reading →