A comment was made, spawning this short story. I didn’t plan on posting because I have a regular short tomorrow, but couldn’t quite help myself.
“Bend over.”The words flew from my lips like a shotgun blast, startling me with the force.
Just speaking them opened something dormant inside of me. It unfurled, lodging in my core and blossoming out to heat every cell until I was shaking with arousal and power.
He seemed ready to hear and heed my words even if I only just realized I’d been ready to say them. While I struggled with this new feeling of strength, he bent at the waist, pulling the red rope taut across his golden skin. My musings stopped then, and if it were possible I grew more aroused.
The calm submission in his pose, the way his round bottom jutted out as an offering, the way his hard cock peeked from between his toned thighs called to me. I tightened my grip on the crop, setting my feet into position unconsciously as I admired his easy acceptance of our role reversal. His trust in me both exciting and frightening me.
“What’s your safe word?” My hand played along his torso, tracing the tattoo on his flank before dipping between his cheeks.
It almost seemed wrong to mark a body this beautiful, but there was no denying my desire to do so. My marks turning his skin a fiery red shade, my instrument drawing groans of pleasure-pain from his lips, my hands controlling him. I wanted him to wear my brand of torture.
“Red,” he replied in a voice husky with need and something else that fired my blood. We were together in our need to dominate and be dominated.
I tapped the crop lightly against his thigh before I lifted it away, my other hand a steadying force on his back. As I held it aloft, leaving us both in terrible limbo, my mind absorbed the minute things. The shuddery breath he drew in, the slight quiver that I felt along his strong body, the way I seemed to vibrate in return, and the throbbing slippery ache that settled between my thighs.
The crop made the most satisfying thud when it connected with his bottom, leaving a stripe of pink in its wake. We both gasped as the blow landed and resonated through us both. I felt so slick, aroused, and trembly.
“Again. Please.” There was no command in his voice, only a plea that brought more of that woman inside me to the surface.
My fingers trailed down his back and into his hair. A yank brought his head up, and I looked deep into his liquid brown eyes. No arrogance, no smug look shimmered in those depths. I fought to control the cruel streak that his obvious submission threatened to manifest in me. It was about his pleasure as much as my own.
“Doesn’t my pet know not to tell me what to do?” I pushed his head back down and rained a series of punishing blows on his butt and thighs. Thorough and relentless. “Who’s in charge here?”
“You, Mistress,” he moaned, his hips shifting with each blow.
“Correct answer.” I dropped the crop and delivered smacks with my bare hand until it stung painfully and I was shaking with the effort. Shaking with the power of my possession of him.
His bottom matched the color of the rope circling his skin, and my marks showed beautifully. I wanted more than this though in that moment.
Stepping around in front of him, I lifted the short skirt I wore above the line of my hips, baring my naked lips to him. I lifted his chin and stepped in closer. Watching his nostrils flare as they scented me made me smile. “Don’t just stare, Pet, put that mouth to good use.”
As his breath tickled my damp skin, I shuddered. I could come to love the switch.
Comments
Loved this. So vivid.
Author
Thanks. Saw a picture that helped bring it alive in my mind.
exquisite. Very well written. Hot.
Author
It was arousing to write at nearly midnight. 🙂
Your writing is really exceptional.
Author
Thank you! Now if only others would recognize my innate awesomeness as readily. 🙂
I’m beginning to think that you have an ability to switch into all kinds of different roles. You have a vivid imagination and a talent for writing what you imagine, as you try on the personas that you find interesting to explore by writing as if you are each of these different personas. It makes for interesting reading.
Author
To me, there is a lot you can do if you can just imagine yourself in that situation. Any genre is about showing the feelings and emotions enough that the reader can feel it. My imagination is vivid, but my writing is trial and error. I’ve just learned to write what feels right to me. Many times if it arouses me as I’m writing, it triggers arousal in someone else.
Interesting… Maybe I should try more of a trial and error approach, because it would be good for me to get more free form with what I write, and maybe write shorter but still satisfying posts. I tend to wear myself out on 5,000 word long stories with numerous rewrites, and I know that the length of my stories can wear out my readers too.
Author
I always true keeping posts short on here and I don’t do a lot of polishing. These are my stories at their most basic, like a sketch of my writing ability. I keep posts that are story length at 1k words or less. Keeping things concise has forced me to add the right kind of description, be focused in my writing. I’m not the best I can be. I’d love to be able to autocorrect my grammar and always nail the right feelings.
If the story is fascinating, I’ll read to the end regardless of length.
That’s something that would be really good for me to work on; being concise, keeping my stories basic, not repeatedly polished and definitely at around 1K in length.
The irony with me, is that I often do some of my better writing when I’m in the mood to tell stories and I’m feeling totally spontaneous, while writing comments and replies on other people’s posts and also my own.
More than a few of my “comments” are better than my blog posts, because I’m just going with the flow and not trying too hard.
I wrote a real barn burner of a comment earlier today that was totally unplanned, about a day on our honeymoon when my wife and I had sex outside near a tropical golf course, and we just sexually ignited without a word spoken. We were caught up in a powerful wave of mutual passion and desire and we just went with the flow and let it all happen.
Yeah, if a story is genuinely fascinating to a reader, the length is irrelevant. But if a writer is gonna go long on a blog post story, then he or she had better do it very well, or the reader will give up on it. I’ve had mixed success with some of my longer posts. Some work and some definitely don’t.
Speaking of long posts, here’s one that came in at over 7,500 words, that’s one of my most read stories on my blog. But it’s a pretty engrossing story that’s also a true story from my past, and it’s somewhat similar to some of the themes explored in your recent posts.
http://wp.me/p2RGjs-32
I promise that I won’t make feeding you links a chronic habit.