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I used to try to put up a new free story every hundred twitter followers. Newest stories are always at the top. I wouldn’t be… well, able to do this professionally without my readers, so it’s my way of saying thanks. (in future I’ll be having occasional freebie days for my pubbed books, novellas and shorts) If you all enjoy reading my work as much as I enjoy writing it, then I’ve made the world a better place, if only for a moment.
RUSALKA
(This is a short story in the NYC Midnight short story competition. 1000 word action/adventure, uninhabited island, a mattress. I scored 7th/30some)
A retired female assassin is mistaken for her lover in a piratical coup. On an uninhabited island in Sweden, Caina learns she’s never changed.
They let me get hold of a blade.
Their mistake.
My mistake lay in believing the Rusalka’s crew enough to protect us from pirates. The Marska had sunk in 1564, and someone we’d trusted had leaked the GPS location of the wreck. My scholarship and the crew of divers had found it, and its treasure. The pirates had found us. On the Baltic sea of all places.
The crew’s blood had washed the deck, including the owner’s. They only kept me alive because I’d lied my ass off. Good thing they’d believed me the titleholder. Granted, my lover and I did share a superficial resemblance. Her bank accounts alone were worth more than the treasure salvaged from the wreck. The pirates had kept me captive for days, sailing up the coast of Gotland to this deserted place.
I lay quietly where they’d thrown me after beaching the landing raft. I watched the bobbing lights of the yacht where she berthed far off the uninhabited island of Gotska Sandon. Deep into the night, my captors celebrated. My eyes burned, but I refused to shed tears, not yet. After my vengeance would be soon enough. The blood of friends and lovers cried out for company on the long walk into death, and I wouldn’t let them walk alone. Not while breath filled my lungs.
I wrapped my fingers loosely around the blade I’d found. It was old, but still of modern make. Probably rusty as hell but the pirates wouldn’t need to worry about tetanus when I’d finished with them. I worked my bound wrists down over the back of my thighs and pulled my ankles through the loop of my hands.
I listened carefully. They’d pitched camp on the side of the island furthest away from the national park. Tourists left at dusk. No one lived here. Far above, the sky spread like black velvet speckled with diamonds. In the east, a faint smear of gray edged the horizon. It needed to be now. These arsehats were early risers. Even if they’d drunk too much last night, one at least would wake early to piss.
Listening to the resonant snores of the crew, I sawed at the ropes binding my ankles, then braced the handle of the knife—a Ka-Bar by the feel—between my heels and raked my bracelets of knotted cord against the serrated edge. The fibers parted slowly but steadily, and gratitude that they’d used cotton clothesline to tie me warmed my chest. Nylon or chain would’ve been problematic.
Finally, the ties gave, and I eased to standing. I shifted on the sand, warming my muscles and getting the feel of the terrain. There were six of them, four men and two women. The harsh glow of the campfire—now reduced to embers—cast little light, but the full silver orb of the moon cresting the clear sky illuminated more than enough for my task.
Cold, night-damp sand shushed under my bare feet, and sharp blades of dune grass whispered against my jeans as I crept closer. The summer night slithered like cool silk over my bare arms. Excitement bubbled up inside me. I marked the man lying furthest from the flames for first death. Alistair—a young redhead with a Scot’s accent—lay sprawled and uncaring on a mattress salvaged from Rusalka. I wanted the holstered DW razorback 10 mm near his left hand.
Accustomed to the dim light, the caress of the moon’s rays gleamed on the brushed nickel of the pistol and the long, curving wave of Alistair’s red lashes. I’d seen him moving around, as I’d watched each of my captors over the past days. The younger brother of the woman who led this group, he wasn’t old enough for university yet. I inched closer, it wasn’t the first time I’d killed. Eagerly, I crouched down. They didn’t know that neither the name I’d given them nor the one I’d given my lover were accurate.
It was them or me.
Alistair’s eyes flew open wide, and the guuerk that escaped him when I drove the rusty blade up under his chin and into his brain made me close my eyes in satisfaction.
Luck, fickle bitch, smiled on me in that moment as his scalding blood bathed my fist. The sound didn’t carry the ten feet to the others. Nor did the scrape of leather against steel as I pulled his RZ-10. I’ve always had a gift for weapons, a benefit in my trade.
I checked the clip, full, and he carried it hot, a round in the chamber. Idiot.
I smiled happily, thought about playing with them and decided not to.
The trigger bit into my finger on the first hard squeeze, easier after that. At ten feet, my aim is close to perfect. Pink-gray brain matter splattered over silvered sands, the crack-crack-crack of my vengeance echoed off the pine forest skirting the beach, and the bellowing cries of seals marked my freedom.
Five times, I squeezed, five more lives I took. Hair of bronze, black or red silk, downy black braids and the bald brown pate of the last man, awake and training his weapon at me. My bullet gave him a third eye.
In the silence of ecstatic murder, the scent of cordite tasted bitter on the dawn air. The seals—iconic members of this Swedish island—and the startled birds of the dunes and forest, all objected to this violation of the peace.
I stood, alone, finally letting my tears fall. I’d miss her, my lover, I glanced at Rusalka, being her heir of record helped.
Brilliant purple flowers in a nest of green lay speckled with scarlet blood.
I fed the campfire, poured a cup of leftover coffee from the pot with calm hands, and drank it black.
I rarely let the monster out. We’re all savages if pushed hard enough. It just didn’t take much for me.
I liked it that way.
The Moonlighter:
(This is a short story in the NYC Midnight short story competition. 1000 word romantic comedy, slice of lemon, jewelry shop.)
THE MOONLIGHTER
Alexandrie left her husband Esmé when she discovered his true profession. Now, three years later, she longs for her Frenchman and her father has decided to put their relationship to rights.
“One more hour.” Alexandrie sighed and ran her manicured fingernail over the slice of lemon garnishing her empty glass. Normally, a dark and stormy used a lime wedge, but she’d picked up the habit of using lemon in it from him. She shook off her melancholy—it wasn’t as if she’d been the liar, the thief—and poured another. Lonely in her father’s elegant office at the back of the jewelry shop, she dug out her cell phone and flipped through the dating app. She’d wanted to close early, but Papa had insisted a client with an urgent appraisal would come in. Alex pursed her lips and flipped through her messages. She didn’t want to date anyone.
“Why is patience a virtue? Why can’t hurry the fuck up be a virtue?” She tossed her phone onto the desk. “Stop thinking about him, he’s a scoundrel.” Ever since she’d met Esmé, she’d been lost. Even three years apart hadn’t cured her passion. She missed him. “Just… wise up, Alex.” She pressed her thighs together, thinking about him got her wet. “Merde.” She realized she’d used his favorite epithet and slammed back her drink. She checked the clock, only a few moments before she could close up shop. She’d have to masturbate tonight to get thoughts of Esmé out of her head.
“Bloody Frenchman.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt down her thighs. “Love is a blind whore with a mental disease and absolutely no sense of humor.” The bell tinkled, and her shoulders slumped. She’d have to do the appraisal after all. She left the office and muttered, “He’s not some modern day Robin Hood, no matter what he does with the money.”
“Except, chérie, that’s exactly what I am.”
Alex closed her eyes. How could her father set her up like this? “No, husband dearest, you are a criminal.”
He made a distinctly French noise, and she knew he’d shrug one shoulder in that way of his. Daring herself, she opened her eyes and her heart skipped a beat. His body—tool of his trade as a jewel thief—was just as taut as ever.
“You let your hair grow.”
“Oui, chérie.”
Her eyes lingered on his olive skin and silky dark hair, he’d pulled it into a ponytail. He walked toward her, his motions fluid and graceful from martial arts practice.
“Why?” she asked.
“Pourquoi?” He shrugged, one shoulder barely lifting and his mouth kicking up in that charming half-grin she’d fallen so hard for. “Why not?” He stopped a half-breath away from her and looked down at her with whiskey shaded eyes. “I missed you, Alexandrie.””
Alex resisted the urge to stretch up and kiss him. His breath whispered over her face, bathing her in his scent, cedarwood, leather, and roses. Esmé.
“Ton Pere thought we should talk.”
That fucking accent. It melted her panties and had since the first night she’d met him. She snorted. “Talk, right. Like you ever did that.”
Esmé brushed past her, into her father’s office.
“You should see to the door, Alexandrie, it’s past closing time.” His attention on unzipping his leather satchel he chuckled. “Not see my ass, see to the door.”
“Bloody, arrogant, Frenchman.” She yanked her attention away from the delectable view, locked up, then returned to the office. He’d set out several pieces of jewelry on her father’s appraisal tray. Alex bit her lip. Her hands itched to run up his silk clad back.
“I could leave,” she said.
“But you won’t.” He cast her an amused glance before turning away. “You look beautiful as always, my love,” he whispered.
“I’m not your love.”
“Of course, you are. You may be able to dictate to your heart, but you’ve no say whatsoever about how I feel.” He lifted his chin at the gems. His dark voice thrummed with tension. “Come then, appraise these, sign the gemologist’s report and you can be rid of me as easily as you were three years ago.”
“It wasn’t easy.”
“No?” He lifted a brow at her before pacing over. He stopped in front of her, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the heat of his finger under her chin. “Do you miss me, even a little bit?”
Dear gods, she wasn’t this stupid, was she? The word slipped out. “Yes.”
“Mon amour, you break my heart.”
“I don’t mean to.”
He lowered his head, and Alex lifted up on tiptoe. Her forehead smacked Esmé squarely in the nose, hard. He bit out a curse, stepped back and cupped his hands over the bloody mess.
“Merde! As graceful as ever, I see.” His hands muffled his voice. “How can you be so dexterous when dancing and so clumsy elsewhere?”
Clapping her hands over her mouth, Alex let loose a horrified giggle. “I’m so sorry.” She hurried to the washroom and brought back a cold cloth. She guided him to sit in the office chair and stood between his knees. “Move your hands.” She slid her finger along the blade of his aquiline nose and squeezed the bridge. “I didn’t break it.” She pressed the cloth to his face and met his serious eyes.
“My nose is nothing compared to my heart, Alexandrie.””
She bit her lip and searched his gaze. “Leaving broke mine too.”
She tossed aside the cloth and carefully wrapped her arms around his neck to bury her fingers in his hair. She closed the distance and took his mouth in hers. No matter if he danced on the wrong side of the law, he was a good man. Only with him did she feel whole.
Esmé pulled back, and those deft fingers that made him such a skilled thief found her left hand. She didn’t need to look down to know what the body warmed metal hovering over the knuckle of her ring finger was.
“Yes?”
“Don’t lie to me again.”
“Never, chér.”
“Yes.” Alexandria slid her finger back into her wedding rings. “Yes.”
First time:
“Stand here.”
“Here?” I eyed the X chalked on the floor and looked up at the chains. My nipples tingled. Would today be the day?
“Yes.”
“Sure.” My heels clicked as I took a step forward to stand over the X.
His hand, harsh and stinging smacked my bare ass. I jumped.
“Yes, Sir. Say it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Lift your arms.”
That dark voice made me shiver. I held my arms out at my sides. His hands were deft as he slid a corset around my torso. I raised an eyebrow but knew better by now than to meet his eyes without permission. He tightened the corset around my ribs, lacing each grommet slowly. He drew the ties through, the roughness of the cords teased the skin of first my belly, then my breasts. Who knew having a man put a corset on you could be so damned sexy?
“Look into my eyes.”
I raised my gaze to meet those eyes; gold flecks sprinkled over a dark cinnamon colored iris. Steely determination filled them.
“Take a deep breath, then push it all out.”
Not dropping my eyes I did as instructed, feeling that soft core of me expand through my soul at submitting my will to his. When all the breath had whooshed out of my lungs, he said. “Hold it.”
He tightened the laces snuggly and tied them. The corset cupped my breasts, molded my body firmly, and when he nodded that I could breathe again, I realized it also restricted my breath nicely.
“Good girl.”
I got wet, gods, what that man could do to me with his voice. Would he finally give me what I wanted so badly today? I knew better than to ask.
“Give me your hands.”
I held them out as he’d taught me, wrist up, hands loose. The heat of his skin scalded as he gently grasped one wrist and pulled it above my head. He clasped it into a suspension shackle, then bound the other wrist snuggly. Standing there with my arms hung above me, the corset snug around me I groaned in my chest. I wanted to beg.
“My will, not yours. Say it.”
“Your will, Sir. not mine.”
“Good girl.”
He lifted a blindfold, and I closed my eyes. I both loved and hated the blindfold. He bound it around my head and gently adjusted it so not even a hint of light came through. He left me standing there for some time. The waiting only made that core of submissiveness expand. Exposed and bound, I waited. He came to stand in front of me, so close. His breath caressed my face.
“Tell me your safeword.”
“Sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary.”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.” He lifted a thumb and gently ran the pad over my bottom lip. I quivered. I wanted him, this… so badly.
“I’m going to hurt you now.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whispered.
I didn’t know what tool he’d choose. I only knew it would hurt, and it would make me wet, soft and open for what he’d yet to give me.
“Stand still.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He cropped me, and I fell into the pain, into giving him this, my submission. When he stopped, My ass and thighs burned with stripes. The pain sharp and sweet. He came up behind me and pressed his body the length of mine. He buried his nose in my neck and inhaled. He trailed his lips from behind my ear to the curve of my shoulder. I cried out when he bit me there, my hips bucked, needing, gods did I ever need.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me, Sir.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Please, Sir.”
He chuckled that deep voice rumbling through the hard chest pressed to my back. “Do you think you’ve earned it?”
“I…” I relaxed into the molten core of myself and gave what he needed. It thrilled me. “Only if you believe I have, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
One hand curved around my corseted waist, the other brushed my hip and dived between my spread thighs. His fingers delved deep into me, sinking easily through the silky wetness of my desire.
I groaned with how good it felt, but I wanted more. I let my head hang back against his shoulder. “Please, sir.”
“Spread wider.”
“Yes, Sir.” I spread my thighs, and leaned my weight into the suspension shackles, letting his body brace mine.
His thumb slid expertly over my clit, his fingers slid into me easily, and he whispered in my ear. “Don’t come unless I tell you to.”
My nipples tightened and my lower belly clenched, but I held it in. “Yes, Sir.” My breathing grew rough as he teased me, and I groaned.
He retracted his hands and smacked me lightly on the flank. “Stand up.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He took my hands down, but left the corset and blindfold on. He stepped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Walk forward.”
Trusting in his guidance I stepped forward, letting him move me where he wanted me.
“Go to your knees.”
“Yes, Sir.” I knelt, and my knees came into contact with a kneeling pad. I wanted to protest. “Sir?”
“Your will or mine?”
Choice, it’s about choice and trust. After the months together, he knew how much I didn’t want to be bound on hands and knees. Today he asked it of me. My choice. I swallowed, drew in a shaky breath and whispered.”Your will, Sir. Not mine.” Except that my will was his, I gave that to him.
“Good girl.” He bound me into a stockade restraint. The chest pad supported me, the four point restraints kept me in a tied hands and knees position. My lower belly clenched, wanting sex so badly it hurt.
He petted me, caressing my ass cheeks as I trembled in the stockade. My breath still slightly restricted from the corset I shook. He waited for me, patiently.
“Remember your safe word.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He caressed my ass again, sliding deft fingers into me, then up over my asshole. “You have a beautiful asshole, my pet. Shall I fuck you there?”
“If it pleases you, Sir.” I groaned at the thought. I’d never been so horny in my life.
“Good girl.”
He lubricated my ass and said, “Relax.” He slid a butt plug into me, slowly, teasing me. I shook when he had it planted inside, but for a far different reason. I needed to come. The stripes on my ass and thighs burned and my cunt furled open, wet and needy.
“Gods. Please, Sir.”
“I like it when you beg.”
“Please, please, please,” I begged some more. Hoping he’d give me what I’d been needing for months. Him. We’d come this far before, and stopped when something about my behavior had robbed me of my prize.
His chuckle, dark and resonant made me shiver. I let my head rest against the headrest.
His hands caressed over the weals on my thighs, hurting me and making lust curl deep in my abdomen.
“Please, Sir,” I whispered.
The sound of a zipper had never been sweeter, nor the sound of a rubber packet tearing.
“Please, Sir,” I begged again, and my hips writhed against the stockade.
Then he gave me what I wanted. He slid himself easily into me. I shuddered at the exquisite pleasure, his cock filling me made my eyelids flutter, and I groaned. My hips arched up, and I pressed my head down into the pad, my nipples tingled, and my cunt tightened, shivering with pre-orgasmic flutters.
“Don’t. Come.” He ordered as he slid in all the way, then back out only to thrust into me again.
“Gods.” I groaned and dug my fingers into the nap of the carpet. I bit my lip hard, holding on by the barest margin as he pushed into me over and over again.
“Good girl, you’re doing well.” He wasn’t even breathless the bastard. How did he do it? He thrust hard into me, and I gasped at the luscious, swelling pain of his bare thighs brushing my welts. Of the building, delicious agony of holding off my orgasm. My breath came harsh, and I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“I can stop now.”
Damnit, how was he so controlled?
I bit back my first response, if I told him no, he really would stop, he had other subs to ease his needs, I had only him. I marshaled my thoughts and spiraled down into that part of me that wanted to please him. “If it pleases you, of course, you can stop now, Sir.”
“Right answer.” His hand slid around my hips and rubbed my clit as he thrust harder into me. “You’ve earned it. Come, now.”
Like he’d flipped a switch it overwhelmed me. Shooting hot like electricity from my nipples down through my belly, from my shoulders down my lower back, up my thighs and centering in my cunt, I came. Hard. My intimate muscles contracted tight around him as he fucked me and I cried out with the explosive pleasure.
“Ah, Gods.” I couldn’t stop it… I kept coming as he fucked me harder and harder. His hands hurt in the best way when he grabbed my hips and held me still as he thrust into me.
“Hold it now.”
I wanted to cry, and I wasn’t sure I could grab it to hold again. The fullness in my ass and cunt made me ache as I grabbed on to my orgasm with everything I had. It felt like holding onto an icicle with just my fingernails, but I did it. “Yes, Sir,” I gasped out.
He continued to work inside me and Gods he felt good, so good. I groaned. He pushed deep and held his place. He leaned into me and untied the bow of the corset, hanging on to the cords. My breath still constricted from the tightness his stillness made it even harder to restrain my pleasure. My head hung as I tried, desperately to hold on for him, to please him.
“When I tell you to come, I’m going to release this, and I want you to suck a deep, hard breath. You’ll feel high, and then I’m going to fuck you until I come. When I tell you to, come as much as you want. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” I whimpered, pushing my hips back against his.
“Good girl.” He withdrew almost all the way then filled me again, hard and fast. I squelched with how wet I was around him.
“Gods.”
“Beg.”
“Please, Sir. Please, please may I come?”
“Not yet.”
“Please? Please, I ache. Please, Sir?”
“Good girl.” He thrust harder into me, so hard, hot and filling me. His deft fingers released the laces on the corset. “Hold it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pushed hard and deep, and I cried out, almost losing it. “Now, breath in.” He pushed hard. “Now.”
I sucked a deep breath, and my head swirled with bodice-rush, I felt high as a kite… “Gods, oh gods, please sir.”
“Now, come now.”
I spasmed with the force of my orgasm and his hand burying deep in my hair, pulling hard made me clench around him. I cried, it felt so damned good as he fucked me. I came again and again, the pleasure like burning waves crashing over me again and again. He worked and made me come several more times before he released deep in me with a dark groan, his body trembling as he came. The heat of him inside sent me again. I clenched around him again and let the pleasure take me, flip me, own me.
His breath finally rasped in his chest from exertion and from where I rested my head on the brace, I smiled. He withdrew and after cleaning up, he released me. He slid the butt plug out and slid gentle fingers over each of the stripes he’d give me. So strong, he picked me up and laid me out on the bed. He stripped me of the corset and garter belt. He took my heels off but left the thigh highs and blindfold.
“Spread your legs.”
I did. I jumped when a warm, wet cloth cleaned me. I hadn’t known how erotic it would be to let someone else clean me after sex?
He moved away and when he returned he said. “Open your mouth.”
He put a straw on my lip, and I drank. Gatorade, I smiled, ice blue, my favorite.
“Good girl.” He set the drink aside and sat on the bed next to me. He took the blindfold off, and I looked at his chin. He was fully dressed, I’d never seen him naked, but the way his expensive slacks and shirt clung to him, it made my belly clench in want again.
“Close your eyes.”
I did. I sighed when he kissed me, softly nibbling at my lips. I opened my mouth to him, and he slid his tongue inside. He kissed like he fucked. With skill and knowledge. When he brought the kiss to an end, I groaned in my chest. I wanted more.
“You did very well, my pet. Soon, you may be ready for my collar.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
Copyright Kaelan Rhywiol
Lust:
“You are so beautiful,” Krisia breathed as she looked with love and lust at her lover, spread wide and open before her. Sinking to her belly, Krisia kissed the softly curving mound of Laura’s mons, inhaling the spicy scent and feeling her mouth water with desire; she licked around the very edges of her lover’s soft folds, just barely touching. Laura gasped and lay back. Krisia slid her tongue more fully against Laura’s wetness, flicking deft, teasing strokes over her clitoris in quick little touches which made Laura squirm and complain breathily.
“Kris…”
Smiling her enjoyment, Krisia took a firm, loving lick, bottom to top, flicking over Laura’s clitoris again. She repeated the move until Laura lay gasping and writhing, panting.
“Krisia – Kris, please!”
Kris finally rolled her lover’s clitoris in her mouth like a piece of candy, playing and teasing and pleasing, until Laura cried out and came for her. Krisia rode Laura’s bucking hips, enjoying the spasms of her lover’s clitoris between her lips. When Laura relaxed against the soft mattress again, Kris pulled back, adjusting her position she licked her fingers and slid one into her lover’s tight body. Laura came again, her hips bucking off the bed as Krisia watched her face, enjoying her cries of completion and the soft flutters of orgasm clenching around the finger nestled within soft silken heat. Crawling up Laura’s body, Kris laved the sensitive nipples with her tongue, gently, so gently scraping the edges with her teeth.
She slid two fingers deep into Laura again, using her thumb to massage her lover’s clitoris, Kris spread her fingers and took Laura’s mouth in hers, swallowing her lover’s excited cries as she came again. Going back down Kris licked and sucked and ate at Laura’s core until she breathlessly called a stop, panting, skin dewy with sweat, eyes heavy with satisfaction.
Laura came to her knees and pushed Krisia down.“Your turn,” she said and buried her face between Kris’s thighs.
Laura returned the favor emphatically, licking, sucking, teasing, pleasing. Burying her face she pushed her tongue deep inside. Kris came and came again, crying in enjoyment at the swelling, fluttering pleasure that overcame her over and over again.
Cuddling together in the afterglow, sweat drying on skin, arms wrapped around one another, they fell asleep.
Homecoming:
Yves came into the room from the alcove hidden behind an elaborately carved stone façade, from where he’d watched Alaria tease his two newest women. Alaria had shown off her welts and startled both of his new ones. Wrapped in naught more than a towel around his taut waist, he placed a hand on Alaria’s head.
“You did well my pet, exactly as I told you. Come here.” He led her to one of the leather covered massage tables. Designed to be at the perfect height for any number of sexual positions, this one had been covered in black leather. Alaria’s porcelain skin glowed against it. Yves lifted her body and placed her ass on the edge of one of the tables.
“Spread yourself,” he ordered. Alaria’s hands trembled as she reached down and grasping her cheeks she spread herself for his perusal. Her body was wet already; this was her promised reward if she did everything that he told her to do. She’d been thinking of it all day. The heated look in his dark blue eyes sent another surge of heat through her. She felt herself trembling as she held the position, knowing that to move would cause her to lose the reward she wanted so very badly.
Alaria’s hands trembled as she reached down and grasping her cheeks she spread herself for his perusal. Her body was wet already; this was her promised reward if she did everything that he told her to do. She’d been thinking of it all day. The heated look in his dark blue eyes sent another surge of heat through her. She trembled as she held the position, knowing that to move would cause her to lose the reward she wanted so very badly.
Yves lifted one of her feet, caressing her from toes to thigh. He put her foot in one of the leather stirrups on either side and below her ass. She didn’t resist as he clasped a leather strap around her ankle and shifted the arms holding the stirrups so that her legs were spread wide and bent at the knee. The exquisite pressure the position put on the welts on her thighs made her sigh. Alaria’s breathing grew harsh as she watched him watch her. She whimpered when he walked to the side of her. She needed so badly to come. She heard him moving things but knew better than to turn to look. The cold leather of the back brace as he put it in place behind her stung the welts on her upper back. She relaxed against it. As the position took the pressure off her ass, she spread herself wider. Knowing how he liked her to expose herself to him.
Alaria watched him as he came around to stand before her widespread thighs again. A rush of heat thrust through her belly as he removed his towel to expose his erect cock. She wanted to feel that inside of her. Yves had denied her for days, teasing her instead, leaving her wanting. A part of her training she knew, but one of the most arduous parts. Orgasm was a treat to be enjoyed at his will and his alone. She hadn’t been allowed to masturbate either; he’d put the belt on her to make sure she didn’t.
Alaria ached to feel his cock filling her, anywhere and everywhere. With delight; she saw him pick up one of the polished wooden phalluses he’d commissioned by a local carver. This was one of the medium sized ones, she felt a thrill, wondering where he would put it. She watched breathlessly as he used lube to coat the creamy colored phallus.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered.
His deep voice made her ache. She did as he told her, not wanting to jeopardize her reward. She squirmed when he rubbed his finger coated with more lube over her. So wet already for him, she melted as he slowly trailed his finger down to rub around the opening of her asshole. Alaria sobbed with an agony of anticipation.
Yves slowly inserted his finger in her ass, so slowly that it only added to her agony. Her nipples stood tight in exquisite hardness. He massaged her asshole for several moments, lubricating her inside and out. He removed his finger, and she felt him replace it with the smooth head of the phallus. She gasped.
“Do you want it?”
She nodded frantically.
“Tell me, with your voice, tell me what you want me to do with this.” Yves pressed the head to her to illustrate his point.
“I… I… want you to push the phallus into my ass, please…” She heard the pleading in her voice but didn’t care; she wanted so badly she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“That’s a good girl. Like this?” He pressed it into her a little bit, but when she didn’t answer he withdrew it.
“Yessss, please yes. Master, please.” She hissed, her need to be filled eclipsing everything else.
Yves slowly, torturing her with how leisurely he moved, inserted the tip again and pressed it into her, stretching her lovingly. He moved languidly enough that she wasn’t able to come and soon had the phallus planted to its end.
“You’re almost ready for one of the larger ones love, I’m pleased.”
She shivered and arched her back to press against the phallus in his hand. Alaria groaned and writhed, needing so badly to come.
“Hush love, be still, or I won’t allow you to come.”
Fighting her instincts Alaria quieted and lay still. She was dripping by this time. She ached so much that she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand it much longer. He touched her clitoris, rubbing her slowly in circles. She gasped and sobbed but remained still as he had instructed her.
“I’m pleased love, that you’re following your training. Staying still, that’s such a good girl, now, I’m going to give you your ring this time. You’ve been such a good girl that you deserve it.”
Alaria’s eyes opened wide in surprise and pleasure; anticipation filled her as she heard him moving around. She fought the urge to move against the phallus in her ass, knowing that he would withdraw his promised reward if she tried to please herself. A sweat broke out all over her body as she waited. Alaria watched him move between her widespread thighs once more. He wiped her with a cold, disinfecting cloth then lifted the hood of her clitoris, and the cold metal of the receiving tube touched her.
“Tell me that you want this, tell me with your voice.”
Alaria groaned in need as she felt his fingers against her clitoris.
“I want you to please, please.”
“You mustn’t come, if you do I won’t allow you any pleasure for a month, hang onto the sides of the bench now, it will help you concentrate on not coming.”
Alaria did as told, grasping the leather sides of the bench. When the needle went through the skin of her clitoral hood she gasped at the sharp burning pleasure, fighting all of her being not to come, she gripped the bench hard. She felt him insert a cold metal ring and clasp it. The weight felt odd but utterly sensual against her clitoris.
Yves put a hand against her straining stomach as she panted. He petted her as she fought the orgasm clawing to be set free. She allowed him to calm her, but she ached with need like she’d rarely experienced before.
“Now, my pet, tell me what you want.”
She could hardly speak. “I want you, please Master, I want you to fuck me hard, very hard.”
“Good girl, now, you mustn’t come until I’m fully inside of you. Nod your head to show that you hear me.”
She nodded frantically. The hot head of his cock pressed against her wet opening. He pushed in a bit, so slowly. He stretched her and she almost lost control when his fingers rolled her clitoris. Yves continued to push slowly into her, inch by aching inch until he seated himself to the hilt. Alaria lay gasping with the agony of holding back her orgasm.
“You may let it go now love, go ahead, let me hear how much you like it.” Her cry echoed through the room as she came, squeezing him tightly within her, bucking against him. Yves fucked her hard, driving her higher and higher until he was sweating and needing to come too. He quickened the pace, driving into her, until they both came one last time, crying out with pleasure.
Her cry echoed through the room as she came, squeezing him tightly within her, bucking against him. Yves fucked her hard, driving her higher and higher until he was sweating and needing to come too. He quickened the pace, driving into her, until they both came one last time, crying out with pleasure.
Yves fucked her hard, driving her higher and higher until he was sweating and needing to come too. He quickened the pace, driving into her, until they both came one last time, crying out with pleasure.
After a time, he slid out of her. Yves motioned to Etienne, his best friend, who had come in while Yves was fucking Alaria. Etienne had made himself comfortable in the pool and had been enjoying the sight of Yves pleasuring his pet. Yves motioned to Alaria, laying weak and gasping on the bench.
“If you wish you may enjoy her.”
Alaria looked with greed at Etienne as he heaved himself out of the pool, water sluicing off of his olive skinned, well-developed body.
It had been over a month since Etienne had had a woman, and after watching his friend with Alaria, his arousal had peaked painfully. Long ago, when he and Yves had started training women together, they’d realized how much they preferred one of their well-trained women to one without their particular brand of schooling. Thus, they usually did without when away from home, or unless they happened to be traveling with one of their pets.
Other women, after having trained their willing submissives, had always proven to be disappointing in one fashion or another. Etienne moved forward and touched Alaria, he caressed her belly and thighs, then ran his fingers over her wet slit. He hardened even further, although watching Yves fuck her had him aroused already. Etienne pulled away his bath towel, and rubbing her clitoris between his fingers he watched her stiffen as she neared climax. When she came close, he stopped, rubbing her wet slit slowly, too slowly to bring her off. Finally, when Alaria writhed prettily on the bench, begging to be eased he slowly entered her.
The feel of her hot body closing around him almost made Etienne lose control. She smelled so good, and her wet body was a delicious vise, squeezing him. She watched him as he pushing into her, her eyes passion struck and beautiful, her body enfolding him in heat and soft, enveloping wetness. He pressed deeply into her, pulling her hips close to him.
Etienne fought for his control, wanting to revel in the buildup before he enjoyed release. He pumped slowly in and out of her and when he saw her eyes start to widen in that pre-climax look that he knew so well on her he ordered her.
“Hold it. You may not come until I tell you to, say it.” He drove hard into her, bumping her end and watched with a cruelly caring smile as she pressed her head back against the pad of the bench and gasped out.
“I may not come until you let me. Yes, sir.” Etienne drove into her again, not allowing her to come. Alaria writhed in delectable agony, pressing her hot little body against his, trying to find relief. After a short while, when Etienne felt himself nearing the edge, he quickened the pace, holding her poised at the edge of ecstasy by his words. Finally, he said,
Etienne drove into her again, not allowing her to come. Alaria writhed in delectable agony, pressing her hot little body against his, trying to find relief. After a short while, when Etienne felt himself nearing the edge, he quickened the pace, holding her poised at the edge of ecstasy by his words. Finally, he said,
Finally, he said, “All right, let it go, come now.” Alaria came hard and fast around him; tight pulses squeezed his cock rhythmically as she came, once, then again, and one final time, squeezing his cock in a sleek, sensual vise.
Alaria came hard and fast around him; tight pulses squeezed his cock rhythmically as she came, once, then again, and one final time, squeezing his cock in a sleek, sensual vise.
The wave came up over Etienne, from his thighs up his back and down from his neck and chest to center in his cock. He came hard, spurting himself deep inside Alaria’s soft body. He collapsed gently on top of her, their breathing in unison for a time, before he slowly, regretfully pulled out of her. He kissed her belly and then went to be washed off, motioning to a bath attendant to see to washing off Alaria and giving her a massage, Etienne waded into the pool where Yves had watched from.
“Hard trip?” Yves asked.
Etienne sighed as he sank back into the water, watching to make sure the bath attendant cared for Alaria correctly.
“Yes, and being without sex is just as bad as the long ride. I have missed being home.”
Copyright Kaelan Rhywiol
Copyright Kaelan Rhywiol
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