Tag Archives: S&M

SCC vs RACK, Rough Sex and Control – a Kinkster Ponders

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On a Side note off topic for those of you reading along with my book “It Had Been Years” on Malflic.com Chapters 30-40 are up for your reading pleasure with more coming soon (I really mean soon this time).

OK for those of you who are reading and not sure WTF I’m talking about

Safe, Sane, and Consensual (SCC) vs. Risk Aware Consensual Kink (RACK)

In the past months on a few months I’ve been following posts on this very topic across several kink friendly sites. I don’t consider myself an edge player and some schools of thought associate RACK with edge play. Still I have hard limits, have been around long enough to know what I’m into and more importantly what I’m not while still trying to remain open minded to new things or an individual’s needs. After all it’s only kinky the first time and maybe the second if your doing it right.

The Concept behind SSC is safe play and with that comes safe words that when uttered by the subbie brings everything to an immediate halt whether the sensations are too intense, there is uncertainty or fear, or even if emotionally you’re fried and not in that little sub space you strive to achieve like a masochists nirvana while people like me are dancing around thinking up cruel new twists in a sadists version of nirvana.

Could be you’re thinking the person on the other end of the flogger who just picked up a single tail has no clue and game over. I’m not judging anything but your choice of play partner in that case since I have no intention of advocating play with an under educated or skill challenged partner. That would just be stupid. Do you know why I don’t try suspension bondage? Simple I don’t trust my knots in that situation. Well that and I’d much rather tie you to something like a bed post, radiator or chair. ( I can feel the collective group of my Shibari and Rigger friends shudder in disappointment)

In all fairness that ‘s not everything SCC stands for so before those of you who think I’m skimming the concept get your latex under garments all in a bunch relax this is an exploration of the topic not a dictionary and the Internet is a wonderful thing with lots of places to look up the full definition some of which are even credible.

R.A.C.K is meant for (in theory as I understand it) to take away the certainty of being able to stop a scene or situation in the confines of a D/s relationship. Makes sense since most of us who do the top thing hate subs topping from the bottom although personally I’ve never been offended by the “beat me harder” request. I choose to see it as a challenge and reply gladly batter up!

So in theory the top controls the interaction and can take the bottom as far as they feel like, think is warranted, or get off on doing. (Yes Power Exchange is about more than sex, I’ll cover that another day). The bottom surrenders to that desire trusting in their top to not go to far. Although I’ve never tired it imagination tells me that its awfully hard to run away from a scene if you’re chained to a bench or cross. The RACK theory then I’ll assume is only used once a person is sure the other player is not a psycho.

Now with those concepts out in the open and giving the disclaimer once again that I consider myself a life long SCC guy I have to wonder if there is not a deeper issue in going to a RACK concept. Could it be that the expectations are different. I don’t do 24/7 and wouldn’t want to. I like the word slut but don’t use the word slave (not even in my fiction writing) it holds no magic for me yet others love and yearn for the designation. I hate silly rules and while kink is a big part of my life for me it’s just play. Hey what ever gets you off is cool with me as long as both parties are of legal age and into it.

Hard core people will scoff at that. Its OK there are a lot of things that are not my kink so I’ don’t feel the need to have every person out there understand mine. In a lot of ways I’m not a traditional sadist but unlike a lot of people (and here I am pointing fingers to a certain extent) I will admit I’m a sadist.

I love the people who tell me “I’m not sadistic I’m a master, deity, Domme, Goddess, top or whatever. OK I Identify as a Top but guess what if you like to inflict pain even if the other person wants you to or is in some way getting off on it you’re a sadist and chances are they’re a masochist. Welcome to the club there is coffee and dough nuts on the table and we’ll have your laminated membership card for you shortly.

Thinking back over 20 years of kinky life and long before I knew what a safe word was how many times have I heard one uttered?

“Stop it Jerk!” no that doesn’t count

“Hey get off my hair!” more a request, one that I typically honor, and not exactly the use of a safe word.

“Oh you think you’re so cool tying me to the bed…Bed you can’t think of anything we haven’t tried” No safe word but we certainly tried a few things and some limits that night.

Truth is I’ve heard a few but not many over the years. They weren’t like like the scene in Eurotrip where he can’t remember or couldn’t say the safeword.

They were with people I knew and just weren’t having fun at the moment for what ever reason. If you hear a safe word too often from the same person perhaps an open minded discussion long after the heat of those moments is the best thing. The I dig this but hate that type of chat. Assuming that even most of us sadists don’t want to take someone somewhere dark they really don’t want to go.

It’s not like the bondage bunny who always needs to be untied so she can pee. Occasionally its a given, just like shit pee happens, preferably not anywhere near me or my rope once again NMK. Sometimes its unavoidable. There are the rare occasion where you have to ask is it getting tied up or being tied up and untied she (or he) is into? If its the topping from the bottom a hold it bitch might suffice nicely along with a little reenforcement with your reminder of choice.

Limits, and control. When Kink is foreplay and ultimately about sex perhaps do different rules apply? Maybe these aren’t thoughts or concerns that true lifestylers have.

Now taking into account that I’m not exactly the poster boy for an alternative life style ad perhaps I do subscribe to the RACK concept more than I realize. So I’m not a lifestyle D/s Guy, I don’t live in what would be considered a D/s relationship and by those standards I’m at best a fringe player. Which is just fine by me.

I rely on knowing the scene and my partner well enough to know their limits and trust them enough to play along as intended. If they scream some dutch word, lemon meringue pie (although I would suggest not picking a safe word that includes Tart in it should you go the baked goods route), or what ever the safe word of the day is. Stop being another lousy choice for a safe word, takes all the fun out of the word if they beg me to stop and I actually have to.

And yes at times I might play with an assortment of cruel little devices in sight, three pairs of EMT scissors with in a step just in case and no safe word. Along with the expectation that the only question that will get ask is “are those fresh batteries?”

No conclusions here just more to ponder I guess at the end of it all like so many things I think many of us are a mixture of both. That my friends in the beauty of making your own rules and playing your own way. Do what works.

Tempting Fate Part 2 The Wait

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So as Ann sat there on the cold stone bench waiting nervously, sipping her drink and taking in the surreal environment before her. The skin she had grown so comfortable living in was suddenly alive and tingling, moist with anticipation and nervousness. The sounds alone were enough to take her to the very edge of things she would never be able to put into words. The sites took her to a state that bordered on a controlled motionless emotional frenzy. Her own time was coming but as she watched the uninhibited display of pleasure and pain, the mix of hellish torture that seeming might never end and the deranged orgasmic cries it was producing as bodied writhed away from their tormentors one second and melted in to them the very next.

Surrender was seeming inevitable. Surrender though had so many different meanings each a personal as the person who offered or took such a thing from another. One large bare chest woman pleaded in desperate and ravenous guttural tones not for mercy but for an orgasm as another woman fiercely pincher her already bruised nipples with delightful abandon while a short stocky man in black jeans painted her back a deeper shade of crimson with a mixture of long purple and black flails affixed to a polished cherry handle. Their playmate continued on in a dreadful tone begging to be allowed come which obviously only prolonged her state of denial.

She couldn’t look away as the couple continued their torment of of the woman, stopping and leaving her unstimulated, untouched, for even mere seconds put her through more hell than any of the wicked devices applied to her. Finally the man looked at her as the woman began again pinching at her well marked chest. Caressing and then squeezing, brushing her hands over her and then back to the cruel grip she had known earlier. The man placed a hand on her stomach, looked her deeply in the eyes. Ann grew more excited watching as she imagined the man sliding his massive paw into her partners panties. She watched, eyes glued on the trio as he knelt slowly before the restrained woman whose head was now thrown backward. Kneeling there slowly touching a knee, and then the other. His hands barely dancing up the flush flesh of her round thighs. She shuddered at his touch, and moaned now the seemingly inevitable. She gasped…”Yes mistress…please” the woman in front of her took a nipples between her thumb and fore finger, clasped down tightly. So tight in fact you could see her hands and wrists quivering from the exertion. Pulling her ample chest away from her sending her entire body, skin straining from the pressure, marks on full display and pain coursing through her body. And just when she was on the brink of existence where hell seemed endlessly deep and dark, heaven arrived. The man placed a hand firmly on each hip his face in front of her smooth shaved see through mesh clad pussy. Took a long deep breath, spread her lips without ever really touching them and then blew on her clit like a gentle breeze. Immediately into spasms that hurt to watch even from a distance. Her cries of delight all that could be heard.

Ann shifted nervously in her place on that cold stone bench, so turned on by everything before that she didn’t dare look away but was torn not knowing what else she might be missing in the other areas and all around her. Over stimulated would have been an understatment.

Tempting Fate – Part One Getting Ready

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I’ve decided to set another story in DC since I love it there and that’s where I was roaming the streets a few days last week. Besides it has a bit of a sexy edge which is something my writing of late hasn’t had much of lately which is a completely different post that’s coming soon.

On a similar note I came across this photographer (in case the link doesn’t work http://alternative-images.streamlinenettrial.co.uk/skin/ and some are duplicated on suffering4art.com)on a thread on fetlife and I thought his pictures were stunning and quite original in a way a lot of Fetish works aren’t.

I haven’t corresponded with him and don’t know him personally but there is something genuinely dark and erotic in these that is so often lost in the typical fetish pictures. Well that and I’m a sucker for great black and whites. For the record my two favorites are these two image numbers !0001–DSCF5498MOD-cropped600.jpg and !0003–DSCF6633Selenium600.jpg

Now on to the story.

Part 1

She was so comfortable in her own skin. She knew everything and was in total control is what she told herself as her heels clicked up the dark side walk in the cool air of a fall evening. The breeze blew past the buildings and through her clothes, touching her soft white skin with its tepid moist caress as it danced all over her.

She knew what she wanted she had fantasized about it a million times, lurked on web sites and forums for years. She had played it all out in her head. It was old hat, same old game on a brand new field but the rules certainly wouldn’t have changed. The game was always exciting but it was the new ball field or more so the audience that added to the excitement.

Cool as could be as she stepped through the door way and into the room. It was filled with an array of colorful character each symbolizing their own unique proclivities or combinations of them. One particular assortment felt no need to wait for a more secluded space for their wicked little game. Making her way to the bar her heart raced, ever so slightly. Ordering her drink her stomach began to

flutter and swallowing hard as she saw his unassuming form in the distance she questioned whether or not tis is what she really wanted, but only for a second.

Unassuming as he was lurking in shadows some how made him all the more becoming. Moving toward her his eyes unwavering as hers met his and then looked down. She missed his smile, the wicked little smile that said more than words ever could.

“Good evening” she said nervously

He simply took her by the hand as she gulped down the last of her drink before being led across them room, down a hallway and into a large open space filled with images most would equate with a hellish mid evil torture chamber as sound of whooshing, cracks of cruel little devices against completely bared flesh and the accompanying screams and moans to match. Her heart was now pounding, her skin wet with nervous anticipation as she watched the people before her total engulfed in their own little worlds oblivious to the voyeurs taking delight in their actions.

She wondered what does one say to some one say to these people after they’ve finished. Is it polite to clap, to tell them you enjoyed their display of intimacy and surrender through a polite comment after the fact or was it best to just share a knowing smile.

She wondered because something told her soon enough it would be her on display.

Corporate Outings, Sex Rooms, & finding out how Vanilla your boss is

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The names have been changed to protect the innocent (and me)

So I work and make my living as a fairly visible part of a large corporate machine with traditionally conservative leadership. Hard to believe but writing smut is just a hobby and doesn’t pay the bills. It’s something only a few close friends at work know about. Then again you won’t catch me parading around in fetish attire and I don’t publicize my other adult oriented activities. I had a boss who was quite the swinger once at another company but that is a different story.

A few weeks back we had an annual all hands on deck type meeting over the weekend. Of course we moved what city it would be in about 6 weeks before the actual event for around 500 people which might as well have been the last minute. The new location was fine, back on some of my old home turf which is always nice. The accommodations were less than luxurious and the hotel was over booked with Doctors at some convention when we started to arrive. I walk into lunch on that first day and a friend whispers in ear.

“This place has sex rooms.” I of course ignore him.

He continues on “ no really they have 16 different themed sex rooms” ok now I’m curious I was thinking it was just rooms with a big hot tub but theme rooms well that was a different story.

I assured him it was a pretty wild city so no big surprise. As they say write what you know and out of a dozen or so people from that city I had kept the company of in the past most of them were very, very, very, kinky.

He went on “Paul has one called the Cave, it has fur and hieroglyphics on the walls, and a giant round orgy bed!” My friend’s voice turned from a whisper to nearly inaudible when he said orgy. The only thing missing was a hushed gasp coming from his mouth. I laughed like a lunatic since Paul was the head of HR. There was a certain irony that he had a “sex room”.

The group of well heeled and devoted professionals had been turned into a bunch of high school kids sneaking a peek at an older brother’s nudie mag. So and so had a room with mirrors on all the walls and ceilings, blah, blah, blah had a room with a Gilligan’s island theme.

The list went on there were about seven of us who had theme rooms.

The room holders gave tours after a few pints at the hotel pub each evening, groups flocked to the “guides” as if they were going to get a look at the secret of the entire universe. Are people really that sexually repressed? It scares the hell out of me that most people have as unimaginative sex life as they do a day job.

One room in particular was the called leather and lace. It was the one people talked about most since it had as people described it “Prison bars with those hand cuff things and chains all over it.” People are really interesting to watch as they talk about what they think is wild and taboo. Isn’t bondage, even causal bondage a fairly main stream fantasy? This coming from a guy who can tie more knots than an eagle scout and owns enough rope to dock the pacific fleet.

(When we visited it was a little less Vanilla the bars were loaded with chains and cuffs)

One Tall leggy blonde VP on a tour cuffed a finance executive to the bars and took a few pictures and then left him there helpless for a few minutes. I have a new found respect for her and the only thing that would have been better was if she would have added “how does that feel? you like don’t you? You little whiny bitch!” Nothing like a guy in a Brooks Brothers suit chained to a wall, even if it was only for a few minutes. Then again that might not be so unusual either.

The next morning I’m having breakfast with Marci who is a peer. She’s s a tiny little thing, a Southern Belle and has a daytime wardrobe that is so stylish and it could go right to a club after long day. I know her a little, she likes to go out, have a good time dance and party. Our boss comes up. He’s a great guy and was a friend long before I ended up working for him. We’re talking about the room tours of the previous night and telling how popular the leather and lace room was.

“ I don’t get it” he states Marci tries again to explain in a non offensive way what the leather and lace room was. He stares blankly, this is a man who gets everything I’ve ever told him on the first pass and at that moment he really has no fucking clue what we’re talking about. She looks at me and shrugs and at the same time we both blurt out “it’s a bondage room” she adds “you know S&M”.

The boss’ face turns red, I mean really bright fire engine red. “Oh” he stares at his eggs uncomfortably for the next five minutes as we continue to talk. Marci shoots me a glance and as he walks away adds “he’s so vanilla”. I think it was a test since she looked even more shocked when I got what she meant. Later she confided that I’m one of the last guys in the world she would have thought had a dark side. She had pegged me as even more uptight than the rest of the crowd. “Good my disguise is working” I said with a devilish little smirk.

The rest of the event was spent with her telling me racy jokes and making suggestively laden dirty comments. It is quite possible that her mind is far dirtier than mine.

A Surrender, Part 3 – Mistress returns

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By request and due to their over all popularity part 3 of a female dominate series of stories for all you male subs, female tops and switches out there. Of course you can read the first 2 installments but just to bring you up to speed.

A very thoroughly spanked male sub waits naked and still in position from his last punishment for his Mistress to return and administer his next session of the evening. The promise of anything but another spanking on his red and bruised bottom would be a reprieve even if it includes more wicked little devices and cruel attention to his nether region.

Waiting his bared bottom still flushed and the dark shades of purple becoming more evident every few minutes he stood there. She had spanked him before but never as hard or as long as what he had just gotten. Two clamps on his balls left him some where between tortured and excited and the cold lube on the plug in his ass had warmed and only added to the sensations he was feeling.

 

The pain danced with pleasure as he took pride in how he had handled his punishment, but pride was a foolish thing for a slave, and especially foolish knowing that there was more to come.

 

Her foot steps on the stairs echoed. His throbbing bottom waiting for her in plain view as she entered the room, she drank it in and just couldn’t help herself. She walked over and patted it a few times, he tensed as even the slightest little smack sent new levels of pain coursing though his body.

 

“I see you stayed just like I left you.” Her mind still spinning in indecision, he waited for her hoping she wasn’t going to do what he was anticipating.

 

“But first we’ll start with just a little reminder, just so you don’t forget what you’ve already learned.” Her voice confirmed everything he feared and as the leather slapper met his bottom he fought through the sting “yes Mistress”. She spanked every so lightly but it didn’t feel that way on the receiving end. Her cruel little reminder left him dancing and struggling to stay in place as she swatted one cheek and then the other slowly and deliberately with a sense of enjoyment and satisfaction.

 

Soon her interest waned and she removed the plug and clamps all but unannounced. “Kneel, and lick my boots” he stood and turned around to see her waiting in shiny black boots, a latex corset and panties matching panties. Seconds later all but threw himself at her feet just relieved that she was moving onto something else.

 

“Oh you didn’t think it was going to be that easy did you” she inquired

 

“No Mistress” he said pausing.

 

“Good now don’t miss a spot” as she danced a flogger across his back. Whipping him at will as he knelt at her feet. Every so often she was tempted to land it a little lower and as his back glowed a soft pink and red she reached further and place a hard stoke across his ass. He paused. She gave him another that sent him in to writhing misery. “who said you could stop pig.” She demanded, as she continued to abuse his bruised and tender bottom with her flogger.

 

“Please Mistress” he pleaded looking up at her. She was so arousing to him even now.

 

Knowing he was at his limit “Fine so maybe your poor little bottom has had enough for a while. Stand up”

 

He did so quickly. “I see you’re enjoying this so lets see how your hard little dick likes what you’ve just earned it.” She said grabbing him roughly by his manhood that was in fact was from small and instantly grew completely rigid with her touch.

 

“Trust me this won’t feel good for long” Stroking him, teasing him, and making certain he was enjoying it at least a little. Next she wrapped the thin rope over the base of his dick tightly, wrapping each of his balls until they were separated and bulging against each of the tight little loops of ropes making that made the restraints.

 

She then took a small leather strap in one hand and the base of his erection in the other. A soft slap across the top of his penis, and then another until she got to 10 each a little harder than the last. “now for the under side holding it up she whipped the underside of his dick’s head 10 times each strokes sending a mixture of pain and pleasure racing through his body.

 

“Now let’s add a little something to the fun” placing leather restraints around his wrists and ankles and fasting him tightly in place he stood waiting for her to begin again and she tortured his cock first the top side top and then bottom mercilessly whipping him with the strap paying particular attention to the fat mushroom shaped tip. Then a light but stinging beating with a wooden ruler covering the tip of his dick with extra care and precision that left him moaning and on the edge of an indescribable sensation, stopping ever so often to taunt him with long strokes of her hand, masturbating him to the point of pleasure but never too close to release and then inflicting more pain.

 

 

Clamping his nipples she added small weights drawing the pinch to a pulling bite, tugging and then letting them hang there pulling relentlessly against him. Reaching and squeezing and patting his still glowing bare ass and finally unbinding his cock and balls.

 

“Look your little balls feel neglected as she pulled out a latex flogger and began to address the neglect. He writhed in torment and she delighted not only in his suffering binding his still obvious erection to his torso to keep it stimulated and out of the way when she cupped his ball flogging first with a leather toy and then a wicked little latex implement with countless soft and thin strands stinging and going astray. He moaned and drew inside of himself as she continued.

 

Removing her black panties he watched as she revealed a cleanly shaved pussy that glistened with her arousal. Then releasing him he followed he across the room and placed his head between her legs sending a shudder through her soaked pussy as his tongue danced over her lips and in and out of her.

 

Taking him in hand and positioning him between her legs she tapped his abused little cock against her clit over and over again to the edge of her own second release and well into to it as he stood and watched his mistress cum.

 

“ Do you want to fuck me” she asked.

 

“Yes Mistress” His answer almost too eager.

 

“In time but not before I finish fucking you” Now standing in front of him she helped him to his knees and he looked on while his mistress placed he harness around her small waist and long toned legs. Reaching into the toy chest she removed a pink dildo that he had never seen before, it was longer and thicker than any they had ever played. Astonished as she strapped it on her intention was now perfectly clear as she moved towards him the size and girth becoming even more worrisome as she drew closer.

 

She stopped in front of where he was kneeling. Eagerly and hoping to avoid the alternative took it into his mouth as his lips stretched to swallow it. “Nice try but you know exactly where it’s going” As she stepped back and now behind him his red and purple bottom in the air waiting she eased the heavily lubed massive toy into him and back out again until a nice rhythm of her hips bouncing off his beat red ass had been established, adding the occasional hard spank to his punished bottom for added effect.

 

 

After thoroughly and savagely fucking his ass she mounted him and his raw dick fucking roughly until she came again and again, finally giving him permission to do the same he did so almost instantly and forcefully from all the stimulation over the course of the evening.

 

“ left something outside the door could you get it for me?”

He answered and opened the door to find the switches she had cut earlier waiting for him. He carried them to her and bent back over the spanking bench. His heart sank again. “Oh I was just bringing those along for another time but if you really need another reminder I’d be happy to help.” The first one cut across his back side, every muscle in his body tensed and he fought to stay in position. She continued on with well placed strokes and long pauses, enjoying the sound of the implement swooshing through the air and then sending a crack out through the room as it landed. How he tensed and pleaded for it to be over yet he stayed in position and waited, waited for it to end, waited for her to apply another stinging swat . Hewaited to knowing that he would do anything else she wanted.

 

What she wanted was his fat sore cock inside of her…but that could wait just a few more minutes.

Something Wicked

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Here’s my offering of edgy and intense for your own imaginations to run wild with.    If  you’d like the audio version can be heard by click here or by visiting http://malflic.libsyn.com

 

 

Not shaking yet but edging ever closer to that subtle uncontrollable loss of composure she made her was toward the door.  He followed her, merely lingering a few steps behind. His heavy boots causing each long and lumbering stride to call out like the very literal sound of impending doom watching her as it moved closer. 

 

Making her way down the dark hallway bathed in motionless shadows.  Everything had fallen absolutely silent, except for his menacing movements.  Perhaps she just wasn’t hearing a sound as her mind raced playing the look she saw in his eyes over and over again.  A look filled with what could only be described as sinister intent.

 

It sounded so ominous, and felt like the world was watching her as she passed by every set of glaring and damning eyes.   Moving like a nervous and damned woman. She was convinced everyone knew what awaited her on the other side of the door that was now not so far in the distance. 

 

Fear when it takes the place of knowledge and reason it causes a vivid imagination like hers, at first it runs wild and imagines only the worst and then from there twists each and every of those irrational concerns into all consuming fictional possibilities, swimming in the unreal and the infinite uncertainty.

 

Sweat started to form on her pretty little brow, and her legs grew weak as she reached for the door. Fighting back the urge to throw herself on the floor and plead for anything but what she was imagining.  Instead her hand obediently turned the knob and it began to swing open.

 

 

She looked back at him hoping to see a glimmer of mercy in his eyes, there was only a glimmer of something wicked as she then turned to face the music and broke the threshold by stepping into the chamber.  Expecting him to arrive behind her only seconds later instead he called out as he passed.  “You know what to do to get ready.  Hop on up. I’ll be back”   Oh he’ll be back alright and far too soon for her liking as she waited a still growing bundle of nerves for him to return and join her.

 

That time was growing ever closer but not upon her just yet.  And after a few deep breaths and clearing some of the awaiting horrors and torture from her mind, the no so silent screams she believed she heard coming from the next room down.  Wicked little devices drilling away bits of a persons being in all too sensitive area’s.  Some people never seem to learn, and she was one of those.

 

Always well intentioned, starting off on the right foot after each session but shortly there after falling back to her old ways and bad habits.  Habits so engrained and bred out of pure laziness that even the times like these failed to improve or break them.

 

In the hall way the foot steps stopped, menacingly paused in front of her door.  All her sense were ablaze again as she heard another voice along with his and before the reality of the entire situation settled in the door had been opened and she jumped.  Her heart raced and her body shook subtly as he moved towards her.  She wanted him to start if for no other reason than the entire ordeal would be closer to over.  And it being over is the one thing that she wanted most.

 

But instead he took his time arranging the tools of his sadistic trade. A trade that had the guises of helping, of providing not only preventative measure but relief from the pain of things gone awry, no matters who fault it was…even if it was nature playing her cruel hand, or neglect in and of itself. It led to something awful.

 

The awful sounds of the tortured souls that had been off in the distance and next door were gone and as he set the last of his implements down to a clinking, thudding tone.  He looked in to her eyes.

 

She couldn’t see his mouth but as his voiced explained what was going to happen in very eloquent detail, she could feel him grinning behind his mask as he put her into position and reached toward the tray holding his devices.  She opened wide giving in to the inevitable and she could see it in his hand, moving in a unrelenting fashion toward her. 

 

He was about to begin and he was beginning with something wicked.

 

A Surrender, Part 2 – Later that night

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By request and due to their over all popularity part 2 of a female dominate series of stories for all you male subs, female tops and switches out there. This one crosses from spanko to bdsm so like the character in the story…you’ve been warned.

After visiting for hours during what she considered to be a pleasant evening the time came to take their leave and quickly her role as guest and friend faded and once alone in the car she became his mistress instantly. But other than the change in her demeanor not much was said until after their garage door began to open and the car made its way into the drive way.

“Take care of any needs you’ll have since we’ll be there for a while and then meet me in “the room” Her voice matter of fact. As the garage door closed he scurried off quickly and relieved himself. After hurrying back through the house he descended the stairs to basement and found himself in the hallway that lead to as she matter of factly put it “the room” and no sooner than he entered it her gaze was waiting. He entered, stopped at her feet, kneeled down with his eyes cast to the floor and waited to be told what to do.

“Why are you here?” her inquiry directed at him.

“To serve you Mistress” his best submissive voice

“No to be punished and prove you’re not my worthless little slave” her voice harsh

“Yes Mistress” he looked up meekly with out lifting his head.

“We’ll begin again where we left off, with your pathetic little ass” Grabbing his arm and leading him to a bench that he knew all too well the meaning of. As he approached his already tender bottom reminded him of earlier when he had been whipped with a belt and then she finished spanking his bare bottom with freshly cut switches.

Waiting for instructions he stood where she left him in front of a spanking bench that it was only a matter of time before she bent him over.

“lets see what should I used first.” Now toying with him he watched her go through an extensive collection of paddles one by one looking at each and deciding whether or not it would have the right effect.

“I think this one to start” as she pulled out a very stingy thing round wooden number that she knew always got is attention on a lily white ass so it should work quickly tonight on one that had already been thoroughly punished and then a wide thick leather number to follow up with.

“Are you ready to begin” she asked walking toward him an implement in each hand.

“Yes Mistress”

“Then you know what to do, strip and then I’ll help you into position” She watched as he removed every stitch of clothed lastly his boxers that covered a well marked and still lightly colored bottom.

Standing in front of the bench waiting, slightly aroused by what was about to happen.

“Ask me” she insisted.

“Mistress will you please punish me” he said, he hated to ask yet she loved to humiliate him and to hear him ask.

“How would you like to be punished” playing back knowing that she could twist any answer to be right or wrong.

“As you see fit Mistress” He answered. She smiled a pleased but wicked little smile. It seemed that he had learned something along the way but that wasn’t going to spare him a single lick tonight.

Her hand swatted his bottom sharply and he winced. Then she proceeded to bend him over to begin his spanking. Positioning him just, bent at the waist, legs spread she patted him firmly a few more times to be certain he was set perfectly and admiring in detail her earlier handiwork. Tracing the welts, studying a few small bruises on his waiting bare bottom she had every intention of torturing far more before moving onto other things.

He waited patiently on display as her hands caressed and patted, it was a mixture of teasing pleasure that was exiting him despite what was yet to come, a remaindered of the earlier session and a seemingly eternal wait for her to begin again.

“Time for your paddling” she said stepping back and picking up the thin wooden ping pong paddle. Crack, the sound of it impacting his back side filled the room and the sting of the first swat alone brought back the sensations that had faded sine his earlier discipline. After two more in the exact same spot she switched sides swatting the same spot crisply three times and then launched an attacked on his all ready tomented ass that left his butt stinging like a swarm of bees and him dancing in place over the spanking bench, cheeks clenched to lessen the sting and hand clenched to hold himself in place.

She was relentless and after every inch of his bottom was covered in fresh spanks she began again until he was a glowing shade of crimson. Finally pausing.

“Now that you’re warmed up a little let’s make sure that you understand what I’m going to do to you” She said

“yes mistress” The leather paddle came down hard across his sit spot on both cheeks after he answered.

“I’m going to finish beating your naughty bottom” she paused

“Yes mistress” another swat harder than the last set his backside even more ablaze

“Yes Mistress what?” He saw where this was going, as the full effect of the last one settled in.

“Yes Mistress you’re going to finish beating my naughty bottom” Another crack filled the room.

“That’s right and how did you say that I should punish you” she asked paddling him again. He paused to collect his breath but it took too long in her mind and she swatted him again.

“ I asked you to punish me as you see fit. Mistress” he answered. She was bored and was done toying with him.

And swatted him again, as that one set in she gave him another, and then another until 10 hard swats each with an long drawn out pause. He heard he heels on the concrete as she walked away. The sound of the toy closet opening was unmistakable and moment latter she returned with a 4 in wide wooden paddle.

“Count them” She ordered as he tensed not knowing what was coming. The first one made it obvious.

He gasped, and called out “One Mistress”

“the number will be fine for this part but if you move we start over at one” She reassured him and before he could answer then next swat arrived on his bottom that had already been taken from tender to sore and was well on it’s way past red to a lasting deep shade of excruciating purple.

“Two” he called out after winging and shifting about ever so slightly

“Three” he said forcing the breath from his lungs and hoping it would stop soon

The fourth he called out after a short rest and it had landed on his sit spot yet again fulfilling her earlier promise that he would want to spend the next week trying to stand.

Five, six, seven, and eight each left him counting the number and on the edge of begging for her mercy, pleading with her not to stop but to move on to something else. He resisted and did his best as she finished his spanking with another harsh smack as he called out 12 nearly under his breath.

“now I’m almost done with your naughty ass but not with the rest of you” Her tone making it all to clear his ordeal was far from over.

At first it was cold, and wet but he resisted the urge to fight and held on as his butt was plugged without warning with a small toy and an inordinate amount of lube. Next still bent over his backside not only thoroughly abused but now filled she moved onto his balls placing two small clamps on them.

“There that should give you something to think about” she said her hand smacking his fiery hot bottom a few times for good measure. She delighted as how he struggled to obey and took all of the pain she inflicted o willingly but what pleased her most was feeling him surrender in those last few spanks to what ever she truly wanted as he collapsed on to the bench in earnest.

“now I know that you know no to move, those clamps and that plug had better still be in place when I return.” She said sitting the wooden paddle on his back as a reminder.

“Yes Mistress” his voice accepting that the night had only just begun

His Mistress took her leave her heels clicked across the concrete and up the stairs as he remained in position, raw, bruised and spread by her toy that filled him, and two new devices pinching his balls. He was left wondering what was next and how much more there was to come.

A Surrender, Part 1 The beginning

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By request and due to their over all popularity another female dominateseries of stories for all you male subs, female tops and switches out there. This one crosses from spanko to bdsm so like the character in the story…you’ve been warned.

There was no doubt he was going to be punished it was something that he had earned in his mistress’s eyes. At times he craved the attention, the release and the surrender to every wicked little whim and desire, now was one of those times as he played mischievously disobeying instructions and lessons that had long ago been learned. It was the little things that he knew got to her. They were things no one else would even notice or think twice about. But she certainly did and the look before she even opened her mouth said it all.

 

“You’ve been warned” she whispered to him. He knew what that meant and then turning to her hosts and friends a few minutes later.

 

“If you’ll excuse us for a few minutes we have some things to attend to and a few errands to run if you don’t mind.” This was news to him but as pleasantries and assurances that they’d be back shortly were exchanged, she headed for the door and he followed.

 

As the car door closed and the engine started her pleasant tone changed now that they were alone. “I am going to beat your little ass so red you’ll spend the rest of the evening standing and the remainder of the week trying not to sit down”

 

He knew she was serious but surely they weren’t going to drive 45 minutes across town to home. Sitting silently she drove a little further out, pulled down a few back roads and with nothing in sight but country side and hills stopped the car 5 minutes from where they had just been.

 

“Get out and follow me” she lead him though a patch of trees and evergreens, surveyed the surroundings, listened to make sure nothing seemed to be with in earshot, and instructed him. “Give me your belt and a bare bottom right now or it will only be worse!” He knew she wasn’t playing and with a swift motion his belt was unbuckled, out of the loops and placed in her hand. Almost as quickly as she folded it in half his pants were lowered and he began to bend over.

 

Nothing was said. He settled into position and the few seconds that did pass seemed like an eternity before she laid that first biting smack that swooshed through the air onto his backside. She whipped the thick brown leather belt with relentless precision and a no nonsense pace across his bare ass over and over, turning his white cheeks to a fiery stinging red almost instantly.

 

He struggled to stay in position hands on his knees and bottom pushed outward towards her as the speed and intensity continued on. Each stroke stinging more than the last, the pain grew even more intensely building upon itself as the punishment continued on for nearly 5 minutes.

 

She spoke, the pause was welcomed. “I hope you know this is just the beginning of what you’re going to suffer for your behavior.”

 

“Yes Mistress” he answered not knowing at all what she had planned.

 

Five more lashes with the belt to refresh his memory left him uncertain.

 

“Don’t you dare move.”

 

He didn’t as he heard her footsteps move away from him. He could hear her off in the distance. Not sure if she had returned to the car, or wanted a few minutes to collect herself. But suddenly he could hear her approaching again.

 

I’ve decided to make the most of our little start and finish this part of your punishment with something new. He heard it cut through the air, and cut it would as she swung the switches she had collected so he could hear them before being beat with them.

 

The first bit into his already sore bottom with an searing intensity. Each of the strokes made her displeasure more apparent. There was nothing but the sound of the implement going though the air and then impacting his backside with intention and force. Marks from the branches began to rise and she had just started. After breaking position ever so slightly his admonishment was “Oh so you still haven’t learned to obey, Maybe something thicker will help your naughty ass learn to stay in place.

 

Pausing only long enough to pick up another more menacing and painful stick and beginning again by more marks over his red bottom that had been more than covered with welts on top of growing welts from the back top of his thighs, to the core of his now exhausted and pain filled being through a thoroughly disciplined butt.

 

“That should make you a good boy for the rest of our outing. But don’t forget you still have more coming when we get home later.” She said stopping to look at her work in a dark crimson, her long nails tracing the lines across his bottom. He waiting and she swatted him with her hand, almost playfully.

 

Wincing and tensing again she took the opportunity to place a few firm hand spank on his hot cheeks. “ Not stand up” He did, pants still around his ankles waiting to be told he could get dressed again.

 

She looked at him.

 

“Thank you Mistress for correcting me. I am sorry I disappointed you.” He offered.

 

“No you’re not, you wanted punished. So just you wait.”

 

Moments later he was allowed to redress and found himself sitting gingerly in the car riding back to her friends.

 

True to her word, he wanted to stand but being wicked she asked him to sit next to her on a wooden bench. The evening wore on and all the while he wondered what else she had in store when they got home.

The Masquerade A chapter from It Had been Years

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Typically when I post it’s random, quickly put together and what ever in going on in the moment for me. This one is not the case based on all the great feed back Kink Week on Myspace I’ve decided to share an excerpt from my completed but unpublished novel that at it’s core is two love stories but is lifestyle centered. This occurs about 120 Pages in so some back ground is… The lead female characters Nadrea is bi and a switch. Donna has bi tendencies but is pure sub. The male leads Vincent is straight confident male who has been around many different blocks and Robert (the husker) is as Vanilla as the day is long. So with that said in the future I’ll be posting my short erotica here but wanted to provide alonger piece to kick things off.

Friday night in a club, not an unusual occurrence by any stretch of the imagination and Nadrea arrived before the club opened the DJ’s were still setting the sound, the “models” were being briefed on their roles for the evening, as a group. As the music progressed to the type that would be pulsating through out the evening, people took their places milling about and the rest of this little world filtered in. As the clubs flashing white light danced sinisterly over the now crowded room full of undulating flesh and flowing hair. An occasional beam of red or violet light caressing a section of humanity moving in their own unique interpretation of life and rhythms for a few fleeting moments of life until most go back to their otherwise soul crushing daily existence. But for those few brief seconds in a lifetime the sounds thump, flashes of light join them in their dance in what would otherwise be a dark cold empty space, but their energy floats along with the man made fog and the smoke. The room continued to fill and assorted chemicals, although they are strictly forbidden, flow through so many people’s veins.

 

The room was now filled with images that would terrify the good God fearing people of the Midwest. Men were dancing with men, couples and groups writhing in rhythmically induced ecstasy. This was a part of the world that most cultures wouldn’t even try to understand. Something wicked was occurring off in the corner as he entered the club. An angry Goth DJ screamed encouragement or insults, it is indecipherable which, at the crowd. There was no judgment here, no intolerances of any kind for ones choice of preferences or partners. For such a misunderstood group they were very open and accepting of others. Although, one could never tell just by looking into the room they were just people indulging their own consented choices, living in their own personal Nirvana’s for those few fleeting hours, for their own hedonistic paradise before going back out into the light of day that required most to be something they truly were not. A handful of merchants with small tables full of their wares were on the one outside wall of the club, more like something one would expect to find at a chamber of commerce mixer or a small town country craft fair. Except the people who typically attend those things, would think sins that were being committed in the shadows of our nations capital, rather reveling in the freedoms we have. But unlike the Chamber mixers, the insurance agent was replaced with shoes and boots, instead of copiers there are implements of pleasure and pain hanging from a chain link display behind a table that didn’t have diamonds and pearls on it, but rather leather collars and metal spikes. It wasn’t Victoria’s Secret where matching ones lacey little undies to an allegedly racy bra is important, although Nadrea still thought about those types of things should always match or at the very least compliment each other. Here it was leather and rubber. Silk was almost completely out of place: a woman in an woven unlined immodest silk top drenched in sweat dancing next to a seemingly gay man all in leather, a USMC tattoo peaking out from under hi ½ sleeved shirt. Don’t ask, don’t tell, right? The building looks more like a structure that should have been on a corner on Bourbon Street that someone just forgot to add the balcony to. But unlike Bourbon Street, the outside was calm and unassuming while inside the decadent underbelly of sexuality danced its pornographic little dance. Rituals and rights detailed to the ultimate end, such a stringent formal process for something so misunderstood. Tonight was a birth right, it was one of the events not to be missed it was the annual Leather Masquerade. Bodies in some cases painted to hide their nakedness or to accentuate the nudity without actually, truly being exposed. Feather masks and leather headdresses hid the faces of many of the party goers and add an element of old world European mystery to a scene that would have made Marquis de Sade proud. Nadrea in her black latex shined to a mirrored perfection, the boned lace up corset top drawing her waist in tightly and pushing her breasts into an opera singers the compacted flesh producing a fake roundness on her upper chest. The music stopped and the lights froze in place as if time itself had stopped. Nadrea saw Vincent as he passed through the inner doors of the vestibule. Peering through her one hundred and eighty dollar purple feather and faux diamond encrusted mask she sees he was wearing his well shined black Doc Martins, painted on black leather jeans and he had checked his shirt at the door along with his coat. Nadrea until this point hadn’t seen his skin except for his face and forearms. His stomach was not only flat but was ridged with deep muscular creases, quadriceps rippling through the leather pants as if they were a mere extension of his skin. His arms looked large and powerful from a distance, his chest barreled and his round shoulders looked like someone had evenly split a cannon ball placing a half on each side of his upper arm. Most of the other men in the club were toned, some were even muscular but none were built like his large brooding figure. He looked more like an All Pro linebacker looking to smash some one into the ground. “This disco use to be a cute cathedral” rang out as the evenings host explained that the building was “a den of inequity before it was cleansed to become paradise.” Here, paradise resembled more a part of hell, as he screamed into the microphone “let the real beats begin!” And with that the music kicked back in louder and with a much different flavor as Vincent dawned his simple black mask. Unlike the other parts of his wardrobe that fit into the scene his mask looked as if it was left over from his lone ranger costume when he was a kid. Nadrea watched from a distance as people who saw him tried to size him up. The women watched, they couldn’t tell but most were sure he was straight. At first he didn’t notice what was really going on, at first glance it was just another industrial dance club, Vincent thought to himself, “Ok, so they’re having a theme night. Music, smoke, lights and writhing sexuality” it was to him all pretty standard fair. As he stepped forward into the club things began to catch his eye, 12 men and 12 women alternating in gender creating two even rows of souls with their eyes to the floor kneeling with hands tied behind their backs forming a path that had to be walked through to enter the main club area. As he stepped into the space between the first two souls the lyrics associated with the music caught his ear. “Did I disappoint you? Did I let you down? Did I stand on the shores and watch you drown?” As he entered his face was not stoic, his eyes were wild taking it all in as quickly as he could. On the stage there were men and women on display in various forms of bondage ranging from simple shackles and cuffs on the ends of the stage working it’s way to the exquisite Japanese style rope work in the center displaying both the front and the back on different “models”. Nope, he wasn’t in Kansas any more or Iowa either for that matter. As he progressed through the 24 souls slowly admiring them with a child like curiosity and taking in the other surroundings, he was greeted by a beautiful woman who looked like she was part dominatrix out of that issue of Penthouse when he was sixteen and part high end party planner. On one side was an Asian woman in what appeared to be a sea foam green latex outfit that was trimmed in black velvet around the sleeves, the skirt and the opening exposing her cleavage. On the other side was a submissive man and woman. Nadrea hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him since he entered. She knew he would come, her grin widening at the thought of the possibilities. The host greeted him “Good evening.”

“Fuck.” escaped Vincent’s mouth as what was going on around him was beginning to truly set in.

“Top or bottom?” the dominatrix asked as people in the club had begun to not only notice Vincent but to point him out to others.

“Hugh” Vincent uttered sounding like he looked, a stupefied dumb jock.

“Well what are you?” the hostess pressed just as Vincent was noticing that she was wearing a leather teddy and thigh high boots, although the term teddy usually implied something feminine and soft, her outfit was neither of these things.

“I’m meeting a friend, first time here” he then replied in a more coherent and somewhat more confident manner.

“Ahh, no wonder I didn’t recognize you, I doubted that I could have missed someone like you.” She then proceeded to go over “The Rules” as she put it. “No cameras, no pictures, no cell phones with cameras’. If you have a phone with a camera, Mira will cover it with a band aid. Just then the Asian woman with the dyed Raggedy Ann red hair produced a band aid that matched the green in her outfit.

“No, I’m good, no phone tonight, only foreign substance in my pants is the ID and drink money.” Vincent replied starting to sound more like himself.

“That’s nice, love” she said without a second thought then continued on with the rules, she came out of character every so slightly sounding less like an enlightened sexual being and more like the mandatory legal ease at the end of a TV commercial. “We are pan sexual…No touching with out permission, no exposed genitals in public areas” Vincent thought it was starting to sound a lot more like New Orleans. “Everyone is welcome here” she said and it did in fact seem to sound genuine. “Drink, dance and enjoy!” she said flashing a wicked smile at him. The afore mentioned Mira then spoke, her soft oriental features and skin clashed with the stupid red hair and mint green dress. She looked like something that they might have drawn in an episode of the Jetson’s.

“Gay, straight or bi?” she asked again. Vincent who was thinking a little less about the Jetson hooker episode he had just devised in his head and more about why the fuck they cared if they were pansexual. “Meeting a friend not sure what she is.” He said producing the card Nadrea had given him the night before “Why does it matter who I like to fuck?” he asked with and edge in his tone. Mira hearing his question “It doesn’t, but it’s also a waste of my time if you’re gay.” She said taking a leash from the female submissives’ hand and gave it to Vincent. “She can finish the tour and help you find your friend.”

 

As he followed her, which seemed somewhat backwards for the person holding the leash to do in this situation, but then again as a kid he had a dog that just ran ahead and choked itself every time they went for a walk, at least she wasn’t doing that, he thought. Pausing and realizing that there was probably someone in the club right now who would get off on that. By the time he was past the hostess, a group had backed up behind him clamoring and greeting each other with how great the night was going to be.

 

As Vincent started to cross the edge of the dance floor toward the bar he spotted Nadrea coming across towards him. “I see her.” he said handing the leash back to the woman, he wasn’t quite sure what proper etiquette was, did he have to take her back to where he got her like soccer mom renting a stroller at the mall or bring her back full like a rental car to avoid an outlandish set of charges. He smiled laughing at his own thoughts, even here he could amuse himself with his own twisted sense of reality. She just took the leash and headed back to the hostesses’ side. He waited as Nadrea got closer, “Drink?” He offered.

“Yeah, but not there asshole.” She said. Ok, looking around all the bars seem equally crowded. So he just continued to head to the closest one. Nadrea tried to tell him not to head in that direction, but he can’t hear her over the music. She grabbed his hand. Despite them spending time together before and kissing for the first time just yesterday their hands had never touched except to exchange metro tickets. Breaking stride and turning towards her. “Look it’s crowded there, I have a private table over there with a few friends, no line, one waitress to every two tables.”

“I’m fine here” he replied mostly just to irritate her.

“Dick head!”

He laughed, at her frustration. “No thanks, I just came to dance.” And with that he took a bottled water from the passing waitress, flipped her one of those infamous 20’s that he tormented Deb with, gulped it down and took himself to the dance floor to join the throngs of sweaty bodies. He wasn’t there for the scene or the shock value, he wasn’t sure why he was there, so he decided to dance. Nadrea was baffled by just how aloof he was, how she couldn’t influence him. How he showed up and then ignored her, did he really think he was there to dance? Although as she watched him, he was fairly good at it. Nadrea headed back to her table.

 

About an hour later a winded, sweaty Vincent appeared. He greeted Donna and her somewhat shell shocked Husker. He was the very kind of person that would be nervous by the raw sexuality all around him. He thought he was open minded, understanding and progressive, but in truth his tolerances were not all that far from the main stream. Perhaps last week wasn’t as wild, the music sounded the same and upon reflecting on it there were a few people around in leather pants, he just assumed they were French tourists. The Husker sat quietly with his back to the dance floor.

“Nice of you to join us” Nadrea said with faked sarcasm.

“My pleasure.” Vincent said as he slide into the over stuffed chair behind her.

“That was my seat!” she said as she sat on the arm of the chair next to him. He ordered two more waters. The Husker added a third.

“Why don’t you two just order some warm milk before bed time?” Donna scolded, although she herself despite having been there for more than an hour was barely through her first drink, the Husker on the other hand was playing camel, he was drinking water like he was heading out into the desert. Suddenly the Husker felt a little more comfortable, there was someone else he had met and conversed with. The two talked sports, just like the first time, but updating the conversation with what they expected out of the upcoming weekends games rather than ones that had already passed. Tiffany arrived wearing what could only be described as a shiny Bavarian milk maid’s dress, and heels that were not made for dancing in except for professionals in the skin trade.

 

When the next round of waters arrived, the Husker continued his camel routine, drinking water as if it could not only save him from conversation, but also make him invisible. This time Vincent gulped two bottles down in less than three breaths, slid to the side of the chair Nadrea was on, forcing her to move as he stood up and in his worst German accent “And now we dance!” Amusing himself with old Saturday night live skits in his head. Taking the milk maid’s hand in one of his, and then Donna’s hand in the other he looks at the Husker continuing on with the bad accent, “Come along now Dieter!”

Not sure of what was happening, the Husker replied politely, “My name is Robert.” “Never mind, Bobby” Vincent said dropping the bad accent, “no fucking sense of humor! We’re going to dance and you’re coming with us.” And as he walked towards the dance floor with ladies in hand into the center where it was the closest and the hottest, the Husker followed. Vincent danced and danced some more. He was suddenly young again, it was like the clock had been set back 20 years and the only thing that mattered was the next song and the next rhythm. Tiffany found him quite alluring and the Husker tried to move with Donna, eventually losing some of his white bread box step awkwardness for a little genuine euphoria in his bounding steps. Nadrea took her chair back as the others at her table slowly snuck away to join the dancing. “I’m the queen of the club.” She thought to herself. But three songs later staring at the one remaining couple around her set of tables finally succumbed “Ahh, fuck it! Let’s dance.” Again she was not in control, other men fell at her feet and he did what ever he wanted. Normally she would have been delighted to dance, but she wanted to make him uncomfortable, to do what she wanted, instead he was the party. She found them in the center, a dancing milk maid closest to him, but the other pariahs had started closing in, Vincent was surrounded by scantily clad dancers that varied in size and shape in costume and race. Mira had made it from hostess to dancing with him and Tiffany. “The bastard” Nadrea said out loud but no one heard or cared. She walked up to him placing herself between his two most obvious dancing partners and joined in. As the song ended the next had a long symphonic opening and as many on the floor took a brief reprise to catch their breath Nadrea stepped closer in to Vincent. He looked her in the eye and smiled a wicked grin. Leaning into Mira asked may I touch you? She nodded her approval while showing a devilish grin. He put his arms gently around her, pulling her close looked deeply into her eyes and kissed gently and slowly, releasing her as if she was unimaginably fragile as he stepped back. Mira’s eyes seductively watching him not breaking contact with his as he brushed himself solidly across Nadrea moving over to Tiffany who was very well aware of the scene unfolding in front of her. “May I touch you?” he asked and with out hesitation, “Yes, any way you want to” He took her firmly almost roughly in his arms, lifted her off the ground kissed her from the base of her neck and raised her higher off the ground until his lips met the lowest point of her cleavage not completely encased in latex, setting her down as solidly as he had picked her up. The song had started in earnest and the floor again heaved in it erotic rhythms, but Nadrea had seen enough, it was her turn. She dropped to her knees and kissed him from the base of his boots slowly up to his knees, her nails gently caressed his sweat soaked back.

 

Her teeth nibbled on his thighs as she passed over them. Her lips lingered on his crotch as she kissed her way up further to his stomach and in the valley that his muscular chest created. Past the base of his neck to the tip of his chin as he leaned down into her so she could reach. As she moved to his lips he kissed her back, deeply. As she tried to prolong the kiss he moved his head back “Until later. Now we dance!” Looking back at Mira and Tiffany who were still watching as their bodies moved gently to the loud pulsating song. Nadrea had his attention, she had the whole time his display was done just to provoke her and provoke her he had. Nadrea was never that intimate with anyone, people who knew her knew that she didn’t like to kiss and they had never seen her like she had just been with anyone. Nadrea never thought twice about it, she was marking her territory and making sure she had his interest. The other ladies however, would have been more than happy to share him.

 

More than an hour passed, the group dancing among themselves and with intermittent strangers. The Husker excused himself even camels have to pee, Vincent decided join him leaving the ladies on the floor.

“What was that out there?” the Husker asked with a farm boy’s wonder.

“No fucking clue, but I liked it.” Vincent admitted. Stopping by the much less crowed bar, he flagged their waitress down who was bored since her table for the night was obsessed with dancing and ordered a dozen bottled waters, 4 Apple-tini’s, 4 Chocolate- tini’s and a large glass of orange juice. Vincent slipped her a hundred. “Sorry, it’s my fault they’re dancing, so here’s a little extra for you.” She thanked him not looking right away but realizing moments later what he had done. The water bottles and the Martini’s arrived at the table, packed in silver buckets of ice. The Martini’s still in the shakers and the glasses submerged.

 

One o’clock rolled around and the group was mostly spent, they headed to the table to find the refreshments. Vincent once again took Nadrea’s chair this time she sat playfully across his lap, a move more befitting the previous night’s school girl look. Mira and Tiffany followed suit. Tiffany sat on one arm of the chair and Mira knelt by his feet. Nadrea kicked her, Vincent may not have even noticed her there, but her quite submission to him was not to be tolerated. Mira soon after took the chair next to them. Most went straight for the water and then onto the other drinks Vincent with his OJ, the ladies with the Martini’s, the Husker however stayed with his water. They collapsed into the furniture, the sweat still poured from everyone’s skin before they could begin to dry. The rested and they talked. Tiffany and Mira babbled at each other about some unimportant similar interests. Donna draping her arms around the Husker on a couch, she was genuinely glad he was there. Nadrea squirmed on Vincent’s lap, traced his face with her fingers and fixed and re-fixed his hair. Soon it came time to go and this time Vincent was the first to leave, bidding his farewells, hugs and kisses for the ladies, jovial hand shakes with them men. He turned to Nadrea, “Care to join me?”

Nadrea responds “Only if we can bring those two” pointing at Tiffany and Mira.

“Fine by me.” He stated unphased and headed for the door Nadrea was again following him. While he stood at the coat check, waiting on his belongings Nadrea caught up. “Where are the other two?” he asked.

“I can get them and I doubt you can keep up with the three of us. I’ve had them both and it takes a lot of effort.”

“Cool, more pancakes for me” as he put on his coat and again she followed him into the street.