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

“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

“Happy Birthday,” Theo wraps me in a hug.

“Do I get a spanking?” I tease, turning around to present my ass. “This will be better,” he promises, an evil twinkle in eyes.

We’ve had a bit of a lull in our sex life, the long winter and gray January days have dulled our senses. It’s hard to feel sexy under bulky layers of shirts and sweaters. I haven’t even shaved my legs in weeks, so whatever Theo has in store is a welcome change.

“Go clean up,” Theo instructs, “then it’ll be time for your present.” I indulge in a long hot shower, making sure to shave and pluck every stray hair. When I’m done, lavender scented steam rolls out of the bathroom. My hair hangs wet and loose, the way Theo likes it. I haven’t put on any deodorant, knowing that he likes to lick and bite under my arms. “You smell so good,” he says, parting my robe and resting his head against my damp belly. We nuzzle for a moment while he inhales my scent. Finally, he pulls away.

“Stand in the middle of the room,” he says. I reluctantly take off my robe and let it drop to the floor. The heat’s turned up, but I still shiver a bit.  “Now,” Theo says, circling me, “what should I do to you first?”  Continue reading

As we dress for the club, Mister simply says “No panties.”

He doesn’t elaborate.  It unnerves me to wear even less than the fishnet top and the teensy black skirt I have on. Mister gestures towards the pair of fishnets in my hand. I pass them over, he rips a hole in the crotch, then gives them back to me. I wriggle into them, then pull on a pair of black knee high boots. Mister fastens a belt made of restraint cables around his black kilt. A little rubber whip dangles from one side. “Let’s go,” says Mister.

The club is packed. Music throbs like a giant heartbeat, the cigarette smoke swells and recedes like a collective deep breath. Mister heads for the bar, knowing to bring me a vodka and cranberry juice. I stand in the corner alone and wait, still feeling shy after years of being nothing but background noise. Odd to think only a year ago leaving the top button on my blouse open felt too revealing.

Mister sneaks up behind a short pretty blonde at the bar, yanking her hair hard. She turns angrily to see Mister standing there. She brightens,  kissing him long and deep as he runs his hands across her breasts. The bartender stands there a moment holding the drinks, then sets them on the bar, moving on. Mister talks to the blonde a moment, gestures towards me, grabs the drinks and leaves. Continue reading

I tell Theo if he wants me to fuck his ass, he needs to suck my cock first.

He obediently crawls across the bed, looking at me like a tiger ready to pounce on fresh meat. I brush the mass of curls away from his eyes, pushing his head towards the big red dildo protruding from my pussy. Eagerly, he licks the tip, then takes the whole cock into his mouth. I gasp, I can feel the end inside me pushing against all the right places. I tell him he might suck dick better than I do. Theo laughs and says he’s had a lot of practice, which sends an electric surge straight to my pussy.

Idly, I watch him blow me for a while, then I ask if there’s any foreplay he wants. Theo tells me he would love it if I lick his ass. I’ve never done that before, it’s one of the rare things that I consider taboo. I hesitate, but his excitement overrides my apprehension. We showered together right before we came into the bedroom, so I know he’s clean. I tell him maybe, but  I want to scope it out a bit first. Theo gets on his knees, resting his head against a stack of pillows. I spread his ass cheeks and sniff, trying not to giggle. I kiss his balls, his buttocks, working into the idea. I moisten a finger tip and rub the pink creases surrounding his anus. Theo shudders with pleasure. I tentatively give his ass a flick with my tongue. So far, so good. Continue reading

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Theo doesn’t dom much, but when he does, it’s with all the cool precision of a mad scientist. My ass is already covered in black and blue patches, red welts circle my breasts from all the little clamps. A silver chain dog leash is clipped to the black collar around my neck.

Theo goes out to the kitchen and returns with a big green apple. “Open,” he commands, tapping my chin. I obediently open wide.  He tells me to bite down on it and to hold there in my mouth. He takes out a new box of acupuncture needles and sets it on the bed.  I watch him open eight little packets, each containing one thin silver needle, lining them along the edge of the nightstand.  Theo binds my hands together then hands me a squeaky cat toy we’ve dubbed “The Safety Hedgehog,” instructing me to squeeze it if I’m in distress.

Theo takes the apple from my mouth, kisses me, then replaces it without a word. “Ready?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked. I nod. My palms are damp.  He  presses a corner of my lip tightly against the apple and my whole body tenses. I feel the sharp tip press my skin and I jump. The Safety Hedgehog squeaks in protest and Theo quickly takes the apple out of my mouth. “Are you okay?” he asks. I laugh, it was totally a reflex move.  I bite down on the apple again and nod at him to go ahead. Continue reading

“Ugh, no,” I tell Jay as I push his head away.

“I’m having my period.”  His eyes brighten, he gets up, then returns with a towel. I lift my ass up to let him slide the towel underneath me. “Go easy,” I say,  I’m a bit crampy.” Jay smiles, says that he has no intention of fucking me.

Jay twists his long mop of curls into a ponytail, sets his glasses on the nightstand. The spiral brands adorning his arms shimmer faintly in the sunlight. He pats the bed, motioning for me to scoot down. As he slides my panties down over my thighs, I hesitate.

“Are you really? It’s…I mean… it’s so…” I stutter. Jay nods, spreading my thighs wide open. “Kiss me first,” I say. “I’m not sure I can kiss you after.” Jay nibbles my bottom lip. “Shhhh,” he whispers, “stop worrying so much.” Continue reading

I hear the back door open.

I’m home alone from school on a sick day, watching The Price is Right. My boyfriend, Sam, walks in with a gas station rose wrapped in cellophane. This is the first long term relationship for either of us. I’m sixteen, he’s a year older. I tell him not to kiss me, I’m all germy, but he does it anyway. He says he’s skipping class to come check on me. I flip the station over to cartoons, ask him to hand me the ginger ale. Grinning, Sam starts to pull all these little plastic bubbles out of his pockets- almost like the kind with a toy inside from a twenty-five cent prize machine, but a little bigger.

Popping one open, I see that they each contain nylon knee high stockings; forest green, maroon, mustard yellow. I kick off my fuzzy slippers and try on a navy blue pair. I laugh, and tell him these are something old ladies wear to office jobs. Sam strokes my foot, then brings it up to his mouth and kisses my toes.

“Eww!” I make a face and yank my foot away. I don’t know what the hell this is about. Grabbing my foot again, he presses my toes up against his crotch. He unzips his jeans, rubbing his cock across my foot. I suddenly get it. I peel off my pajamas, naked except the blue knee highs. The dark blue against my pale legs looks foreign. I feel awkward. Sam pulls a chair in front of me and sits down.

Guiding both my feet around his dick, he asks me to jerk him off with my feet. I try to keep my feet together, and slide them up and down. The nylon is cheap and slippery, it’s already starting to snag and run. Leaning back in the chair, Sam slowly drives his hips up and down. My legs are getting tired and I’m trying not to sneeze on him.

He gyrates and shuts his eyes. I look past him and watch the television, clicking through the channels until he finally grunts loudly and finishes. I peel the sticky stocking off, wrapping them in a paper towel. I tell him to bury it deep in the trash on his way out.

“Bring the mirror over here,”

I say, “I want to see too.” Mister props the full length mirror sideways against the dresser. “That’s so fucking hot,” he says, “I like that you want to see yourself.”  I’m on my stomach, my hands attached to my ankles by a series of thin metal cables and carabiners. My head and feet are lifted, I can’t quite put either down. Mister fastens a leather collar around my neck and attaches that to the cable joining my hands. I test the limits, moving my head forward. The collar cuts into my neck, I choke a little and ease back.

Mister strokes my face, then slaps me hard. I hear him behind me, rifling through his bag of tricks. Something clatters, something else briskly snaps open and shut. I try to look in the mirror, but he’s just out of view. “You’ve been a bad little slut,” Mister hisses as he tightens the nipple clamps. He forces my mouth open with two fingers, then tells me to bite on the chain that attaches the clamps. Continue reading

Six stories about anal sex

1. Shaun is model-pretty, he mostly just fucks older married women, but he says I’m fun.
It’s Homecoming night, my Budweiser soaked blue gown is flipped up over my waist. Heavily scented with pot and Drakkar Noir, he leans in and whispers “I want to be the first to fuck your ass.” Shaun promises to go slow. If I like it, he says, then I’ll want to do it again.

He scoops a translucent fingerful of Vaseline from a little tub, then rubs the outside of my asshole in little circles.  Slowly, he slides one finger, then two, gliding them in and out for a long time. I almost fall asleep from the rhythm. I lie on my stomach, he nestles in close, guides his dick in. It doesn’t hurt a bit.
_____

2. Lee is hiding something, I find out exactly what in his toolbox one day. When he comes home from work, I throw the box of condoms at him. We’re young and violent. I’m seven months pregnant and freshly twenty-one years old. He says he bought them so he could fuck me in the ass. I call him a liar, stab the little blue packets through with a kitchen knife.

Weeks later, I find another box in the crawl space. Bitterly, I ask him if he was still planning on ass fucking me. Shoving me face first onto the water bed, Lee rolls a condom on. He holds me down and forces his dick in my ass. The condom isn’t lubricated. Biting my lip, I refuse to make a noise. He frees one of my hands, and I hold the heaviness in my stomach. I cry the next time I shit.

____ Continue reading

I’m tied to the bed, but somehow this isn’t about sex.

I’m in the middle of a bad divorce. No one has ever told me that it’s okay to be kinky. Up until now, I was lucky to have my wrists inexpertly bound together once every few years. I have a single porn magazine that I keep hidden. I have never owned a sex toy. I can’t even fathom a world where people really get to fuck like that.

I meet Jay. He looks like he just stepped out of a story book forest-long dreads, tattoos, a skirt. Spiral brands shimmer and shift on his skin. He writes, works with wood and leather.  We spend hours reading out loud to each other. I call him Mama Bear, he likes to nurture- cooks me spicy food, makes sure I eat my vegetables.

We talk about everything. I shamefully tell him my fantasies. I can’t even look at him. He opens a drawer, shows me restraints, dildos, whips, knives. Jay tells me that I’m not a freak, well, not a bad freak. Patiently, he answers my million questions. We spend long summer afternoons in bed, napping, talking, then finally fucking. I’m still shy about asking for what I want most. It still seems extreme and deviant. I’m scared, but I ask him anyway.  My heart pounds, will he laugh at me?

Taking a length of soft rope, Jay instructs me to lift up my legs. He winds the ropes over and under. It takes a very long time. I’m on my back, but in the fetal position. He tucks the last end under and steps back. I’m so peaceful, so happy, I can’t even speak. Kneeling next to the bed, he touches my face. “Your eyes, wow!” he whispers reverently, “You should see yourself, you’re so beautiful, you’re glowing.” We don’t fuck. This isn’t about sex anymore. Jay carefully curls his body around mine, stokes my hair, tells me I’m so beautiful. I fall asleep, bound and content. This is my new religion.