Sunday, July 8, 2012

Sunday Six 07/08

Good morning! Another Sunday Six coming at you. I'm a little hungover from partying last night so you'll excuse me if I don't give a big preamble. This week's six continues from where last week's left off so have a look here if you want background. 
Together with the mild flavour and the faint but pleasant smell of the ocean, he could not help his cock – which had been growing ever harder at the first sight of her in the restaurant and then upon reading her raunchy text – grow even harder as he imagined performing this service on the object of his lust. He watched her engaged in her conversation with his wife, knowing she would also be keeping an eye on him through surreptitious little glances. He met her eye on the next glance and swirled his tongue around the fish.
She smiled brightly. ‘Paul, you seem to be enjoying the appetizer.’ And he nearly swallowed the piece whole as he felt her place her stockinged foot on his crotch under the table.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Bringing Sexy Back - Part 1


‘You brought them!’ Caroline smiled in delight and clapped her hands together in a childlike way that belied the girlfriends’ thirty something ages.
            ‘I did indeed,’ Tracy said with a mischievous little grin. She liked this role she had slipped into: smut girl. She was single handedly bringing sexy back, as it were, to her best girl friends with her collection of smutty books. After the usual conversation about books with Delia – the third in their ‘best girl’ trio, friends since university almost two decades ago – had turned to erotica, Tracy was surprised to find out that she was the only one in the clan who read it. Looking to rectify what she considered to be this egregious wrong, she loaned a few choice picks from her collection to Delia post haste. Needless to say, Delia’s Sebastian had been a very happy man the night Delia started reading.
            Caroline had wanted in too. ‘I wanna see the smut! Lend me one!’ she said, after a glowing report from Delia.
            But Tracy had been reluctant. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the same sexual satisfaction for Caroline. Of course she did. But Caroline didn’t have the support at home, shall we say, that Delia did and she didn’t want to frustrate matters.
            The three friends were all aware of Caroline’s situation. She had dated Bill for years and, on the outside anyway, they appeared to be the perfect couple. With her fair blonde beauty and his dark, dashing ruggedness, they made a striking picture. Caroline had waited patiently for a marriage proposal, watching as all her other friends got hitched, and for a time it looked as though it wouldn’t happen. How Tracy had fretted and hoped for her friend, wondering what in the world Bill was waiting for, what was holding him back. But a proposal did finally come and as Tracy watched her beautiful friend repeat her vows on her wedding day, her heart was full knowing that Caroline was getting the life she wanted for herself.
            And for a time it did seem like everything was falling into place. After years of shlepping at an entry level grunt job in a production company, Caroline was finally offered a more senior position. With a handsome husband and a rewarding job, Tracy had never seen Caroline so happy, so contented.
            In the end that time was the calm before the storm. One night, three years into what Caroline had thought was their happy marriage, she decided to surprise Bill at work and walked in on him pulling a Bill Clinton behind his desk. Except that the mouth slurping greedily on his cock was no Monica Lewinsky. More like Martin.
            Everyone was shocked. Caroline was devastated. When she told her friends that, after a horrible fight, Bill finally admitted to her that he was gay, nobody could believe it. He seemed to be the preeminent man’s man, and not in the way Mr. Lewinsky liked it. But everyone’s shock wouldn’t end there.
            ‘We’re going to try and work it out,’ Caroline said at their girls’ night, over drinks.
            ‘What?’ said Delia.
            ‘Bill said he still wants to be married to me and he’s willing to try and over come his… feelings.’
            ‘Caroline!’ Tracy gasped. Shaking her head in disbelief she sputtered, ‘Wait, what decade are we in here? “Overcome his feelings?” He’s gay! He’s a gay man. You’re not some senator’s wife, standing by her man. We don’t even live in the south! Why in the world would you want to stay married to him?’
            Caroline paused, her head hung. She couldn’t look up to meet her friends’ eyes when she said, ‘Because I love him.’
            At the time, Tracy had all kinds of judgments about her friend’s decision. She wanted to take her, shake her, tell her to run, run from this man who lied to her and turned her life upside down, run and don’t look back. But she didn’t. Trading looks with Delia, she remained quiet as they listened to Caroline continue to justify what they thought was this fruitless attempt at reconciliation. How could she judge? She didn’t know what it was like to be deceived by the love of your life. To realize your marriage was a lie. To have the rug pulled from under you. Caroline was desperately trying to cling to her life as she knew it, to put it back together in some way she could recognize. Who was Tracy to tell her she couldn’t do that? Marriages were tricky things. And the heart wants what it wants. Not to mention other body parts.
            Tracy herself knew that firsthand. And while she didn’t consider her situation to be as problematic as Caroline’s, she and Peter had their own hurdles to overcome. Namely that Tracy was an insatiable beast in bed. Peter struggled to keep up.
            Tracy spent years trying to get Peter more interested in her. She worked out, bought sexy outfits, rented porn, whatever she could think of. But no matter what she tried, Peter was just a once every couple of weeks kind of guy. ‘Of course I love you, I totally think you’re hot, babe. I just can’t do it all the time like you.’ So Tracy learned to satisfied herself with her erotica novels and regular and frequent masturbation. Still, she thought, there’s got to be something that gets him going.
Then one day she found it.
            One Saturday night they decided to stay in and sit back with a drink and relax. Peter had brought her a rye and ginger, her old standard when she was in school, and that got them talking about old times. The drinks flowed while they rehashed university and all their favourite crazy stories.
            ‘Our standard trick at the bar,’ Tracy told her husband, ‘was when Caro and I would start dancing together. We’d move close and then start pressing our bodies together, swaying to the music, rubbing our hands all over each other. Guys would be in a line to buy us drinks!’
            ‘Poor bastards.’
            ‘Yeah, we had that whole bi-curious, heteroflexible act down way before it was cool. We’re trendsetters, really.’
            ‘D’you ever take that act into the bedroom?’ Peter asked, one eyebrow raised.
            ‘Well, whaddaya know. You are like every other guy after all.’
            ‘Just curious,’ said Peter.
            ‘We did make out a couple of times…’ Tracy said, head down but eyes up checking her husband’s reaction.
            ‘What?? Oh my god!’
            ‘You asked!’ Tracy said, now regretting the admission.
            ‘Yeah, but I never thought…’
            ‘Forget it! Never mind.’
            ‘No, come on!’ Peter scrambled to get the conversation back where it was headed. ‘You can’t say something like that and not finish it. What happened?’
            ‘No way. I’m not telling you now.’
            ‘I’m not shocked, really babe. You just caught me off guard.’ He paused. ‘Okay, so you made out with your best friend. It’s no big deal. It’s just kissing.’ Another pause. ‘Right?’
            After a long silence, Tracy took a breath. ‘And I may have,’ she stopped and then quickly continued before she lost her nerve, ‘felt her up and kissed her nipples.’
            ‘Holy shit.’
            ‘See? I knew I shouldn’t have told you!’
            But tell him she did. Peter wrestled the whole story out of his wife, how she and Caroline had come home after a night of clubbing, tipsy, giggly and how they ended up making out on the couch with Tracy finally removing Caro’s top and licking and sucking at her stiffened nipples, Caro with her fingers through Tracy’s hair, sighing out her name.
            ‘Did you want to go down on her?’ Peter asked intently.
            ‘I don’t know,’ Tracy blushed. ‘She stopped it before it went that far. She was dating that English guy and she felt like she was cheating on him.’
            ‘I know, but would you have? If she didn’t stop you,’ he urged, moving next to her on the couch.
            ‘Maybe.’ She looked up at her husband’s intense stare. ‘Anyway,’ she murmured, ‘What does it matter? That was years ago.’
            ‘I would love to see you eat another woman’s pussy,’ Peter whispered as he began nuzzling her neck. ‘I would love to watch a girl go down on you and make you come.’
            That night Peter was the insatiable one. And ever since her confession Tracy had little need for her erotica and solo efforts. One little hint, a few words about her sexy blonde friend, and Peter was ready for her.

Friday, July 6, 2012

New story coming!

Hello randy readers!

In an effort to keep lots of horny free content going on my blog, I'm planning to start posting installments of a new story. It's a bit of a departure for me in that it's not my typical type of writing that includes lots of tease and denial. It does, however, feature a lot of hot sex including M/F, F/F, M/F/F and one other combination you'll have to keep reading to find out about!

So check back with me tonight when I will be posting the first installment of "Bringing Sexy Back." As always, I'll be looking forward to your comments.

Cheers!

KC 

Monday, July 2, 2012

Jerking Joy - Poll Results!


The results are in! And, perhaps unsurprisingly, they show that people who read my blog (yes, my sample size is small... size doesn't matter! *looks around nervously*) are generally pretty wank happy people with the majority of voters saying they masturbate 5-7 per week. And that’s a good thing! IMHO if more people jerked it on a regular basis the world would be a much happier place. I’m assuming you agree but in case you don’t look here and here for people smarter than I am who say polishing your knob is healthy. So forget what your mother told you, pull up your favourite Kyoko Church story, grab your favourite toy and have at it!

Having said that, if you're in denial then you're a naughty slut and you should listen to your Master/Mistress. S/He knows what's best for you and will decide if and when you deserve pleasure. Aw, it would feel good to cum, wouldn't it? And I'm telling you right here it's good for you! But you know what's good for YOU, don't you? That's right. Suffering in thwarted desire for your Dom/me's amusement. :)

Ahem. Where was I? Oh yes...

Now that I’m done with my day job I am planning to dedicate more time to you, lovely readers and followers! Especially once I’m settled Down Under. So do let me know what kind of content you like to see here. My stats tell me you love the stories, so I’ll keep that up. Do you like the polls? What else would you like to see? Feel free to leave me comments or email me so I can tailor my blog to what you like.

Happy wanking! Or not. ;)

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Happy Canada Day, eh? Plus Sunday Six

Happy Canada Day to all my Canadian readers and friends! I hope you are all inspired to do something fun and patriotic today, even if that means sitting back and enjoying a beer. What could be more Canadian? Hell, it's a long weekend, why not?

Today's Sunday Six is from the next short story I have due out in the upcoming HarperCollins Mischief anthology, My Very Own Slave. It is the continuation of "Something Twisted This Way Comes" from My Secret Life, entitled "The Breaking of subPaul."

In this scene our sub encounters his Mistress when he goes out for dinner with his wife to a Japanese restaurant. At her behest they join her, she orders them a salmon sashimi appetizer and then slips off to the restroom. While she is away from the table, subPaul receives a text from her with instructions about how to eat his raw salmon slice. Here, in part, is Mistress's text: 
Imagine that is my little clitty. Kiss it. Put it between your lips, suck it a bit. Take some time to use your mouth on it the way you would my clit. While you're doing it and imagining my pussy, think about the fact that this is as close as you're ever going to get to eating this pussy you're so horny for even though you’ve never even seen it. And remember: I’ll be watching.
Will Paul be able to bring himself to perform cunnilingus on a piece of raw fish? In front of his wife? While his Mistress watches? Seems pretty embarrassing to me. I'll let you know when the anthology is out so you can read on and find out!

Oh, by the way, while you're here have a look over to right side of the page. See my new pervy poll? I hope you'll take the time to vote. There are only a few hours left! Thanks for participating.


Have a great weekend everyone!

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday 06/23

This week's six is from a short story I'm waiting to hear back on. I really hope it gets the green light because it's my first time writing about pet play. This excerpt is not explicitly pet play but I think it shows the depth of feelings that can arise when you open yourself up to someone completely...
And when he said he was ready to go down and clean me up with his tongue he could see that lust was sending such strong tremors through my body it was hard to move. So he swept me up in his arms, laid me back on the bed and kissed all down my torso, whispering his sweet placations into my skin: shh, you’re doing such a good job, trying so hard, you’re so beautiful, you’re my good girl, you’re a good puppy, nice pet.
When he arrived at my pussy he made good on his promise. It felt like hours he was down there, it honestly did. He spread my legs wide, held my lips open even wider so I felt opened up, like there really could be nothing left to hide, I was all unlocked, there could be no more secrets.
Indeed, there was no need for secrets with him.
 Check out the Six Sentence Sunday deets here. Happy Sunday everyone!

Friday, June 22, 2012

The Club (a continuation from The Unicorn)


If you haven't already, read the first part of this story here.

She set the alarm. And then Mistress Carla played my wife’s pussy like an instrument, plucking away with her tongue, strumming assuredly with her fingers. Wifey moaned and sighed and occasionally thrust her hips up, then seemed to remember herself, and visibly made herself relax. ‘You really like having your pussy eaten, don’t you, you greedy little slut?’ Carla said, looking up from between wifey’s thighs. My wife mumbled an embarrassed assent. ‘Does your darling husband do this for you a lot?’ A pause. ‘Answer me!’ she said, and began tonguing her hard.
‘Yes! Yes!’ wifey called out as her hips bucked. ‘He’s amazing at it!’
‘Is he now?’ Carla’s eyes narrowed on me momentarily. And then she did something unexpected.
My wife’s little clitty was a hard, red nub, by now poking out in stiff recrimination from beneath its tiny hood. Mistress gave that sensitive little button a few soft licks, making wifey’s body tense and quiver while she gasped out. Then I watched as Mistress puckered her lips in a perfect brass embouchure around that sensitive bit of flesh, and blow firmly against it, producing a high, faint buzzing noise.
Wifey cried out. Her body immediately went rigid. I could see her arousal sky rocket instantly. Mistress Carla kept up her buzzy assault on wifey’s clit and my poor girl was helpless to control anything. Mistress shoved two fingers inside wifey’s cunt in a final attack, shunting them in and out while continuing to be a mouth vibrator on her button. It was useless. My wife came in loud, powerful waves of ecstasy that seemed to go on and on forever, her body contorting and thrashing against the bindings.
When Mistress had rung every last spasm out of my wife’s pussy with her mouth, she sat up. Stopping the alarm 14 seconds before it was due to sound, she turned to me. Licking my wife’s cum off her lips, she smiled.
‘I can’t wait for you to meet my friends.’
***
If you listened outside the beautiful gilded doors of the exclusive club you would once again hear giggling, mirth-filled laughter. This time however, it wouldn’t be one sole female voice.
            And if you peeked in? Aw, again! So curious! But this is a very exclusive club. You have to be a member to know what goes on beyond these doors.
            Okay fine, I’ll tell you. But I may have to kill you.
            You’d see me. The same 51 year old man, in some ways. And yet totally changed in others.
            What would you see to start? Well, actually not that much at first. They didn’t just haul me in, tie me up and start touching me. No, these women are much more devious, their torment is infinitely more insidious than that.
            When I arrived at the club with Mistress Carla – after being put through a series of ablutions that included washing, trimming, shaving and waxing my most private areas by a no nonsense Asian man dressed in white – I was placed naked in a room with two other naked men. Our wrists were cuffed behind our backs and we were seated on a padded bench along the wall of this large room. Just the room alone was intimidating as it showcased a whole series of toys of all shapes, sizes and colours, as well as instruments of punishment: whips, floggers, paddles, you name it. And then the furniture. Aside from a king size bed, there was all manner of furniture that at first glance appeared unremarkable until you looked closer and saw the straps and holes in strategically placed areas. I looked at the two men seated down from me. They looked equally stunned and nervous. I wondered if they had been brought here under similar circumstances, if they were “won” away from their wives or girlfriends for a night.
            Finally Mistress Carla entered with two other women. Each of them looked mature, their bodies, scantily clad, without the roundness, the softness of youth. Instead it was obvious that each of these sophisticated women were tight and toned through physical activity, their bodies sculpted at the gym as the gift of youthful splendor receded. They were each different though. The brunette Carla was petite with sexy curves, but still slender. The woman beside her was also petite, slightly Asian in appearance and with fuller curves, more voluptuous. And finally the third woman was tall and blonde, statuesque. Together they made for a mouth-watering feast for the eyes of feminine allure.
            At first they completely ignored us. They put on music, poured each other drinks, and started to dance, having a private girl party all their own. They whispered to each other and laughed and kissed, making delectable all girl sandwiches, taking turns on who got pressed into the middle of the gorgeous sexy trio. Soon their playful kisses turned to full on make out sessions. Clothes started to get discarded, hands were on thighs, breasts, tongues flicked, nipples puckered. The giggling and chatter turned to sighing and moaning. I took a sidelong glance at my neighbours on the bench. As I was, each man was shifting around on the seat uncomfortably, watching in stunned amazement and sporting fast growing erections.
            And still not one of the beautiful creatures looked our way.
            Just when I was beginning to think that the torture would be that we were forced to watch this sexy display while being unable to touch ourselves and then being sent home frustrated, the blonde goddess turned a lustful glance in our direction.
            ‘Well, what little treats have we all brought in today?’ she said. Her gaze panned over the three of us as though she were surveying cakes in a bakery window. ‘Kyomi, which one is yours? You had the winning one last time.’
            The woman who had had Mistress Carla’s nipple in her mouth and had been tonguing it in earnest broke away from her then. She smiled slyly and gestured at the man seated beside me. ‘That’s mine in the middle, Nikki,’ she giggled. ‘To be honest, I’m not expecting much from this one.’
            ‘Oh?’ Nikki asked.
            ‘No,’ Kiyomi sighed. ‘He’s a total premature ejaculator.’ The shame from the man seated beside me was palpable then, I didn’t even have to look at him to know how red he was, how sweaty.
            ‘Why did you bring him then??’ Nikki’s exasperation was plain. ‘The last one you brought kept us entertained all night!’
            ‘I know,’ Kyomi said. She smiled at the man she brought a bit shyly. ‘But you know I have a weakness for the ones who are so cute and helpless! I mean, look at him. Isn’t he adorable?’
            ‘Well might as well get him up here first,’ Nikki said, rolling her eyes. ‘Sounds like we won’t be long with him.
            From experience I can tell you that the only thing more torturous than being in that man’s place and enduring the teasing they then put him through, was being in the place of one of us left on the bench. Left to watch and listen as the man pleaded and begged, knowing all the while that our turn was coming. Indeed the man was quick to approach the finish line. But that didn’t make his torment any less. Over and over they took turns with their hands, easing him to the brink and then denying him release. Since he was fast it didn’t take long but by the fifteenth time his desperation was palpable and my cock throbbed in aching sympathy for his plight.
            ‘Please!’ he intoned. ‘Please. Please let me come.’ He was barely able to stand, still with his hands cuffed behind him. Finally Kyomi spoke up.
            ‘Okay, little boy. I’ll let you come.’ And she knelt down before him, her face a mere inch from his cock, and stuck out her tongue.
            The sight of this exotic beauty before him with her tongue rolled out in invitation before his burgeoning shaft while being flanked by the other two goddesses was too much for the struggling man. You could see his entire body capitulate. He let out a tortured groan and spurted into her mouth.
            Mistress Nikki and Mistress Carla each grabbed an arm as he struggled not to collapse. As for Mistress Kyomi, she never touched the man with her mouth, but caught all of his load on her waiting tongue. Standing up and swallowing she said, ‘Mm. Why is it the premature ejaculators are always so sweet?’
***
So they did eventually get to me. But not before I was also forced to witness the other man on the bench – a man who Mistress Nikki referred to as her Pain Slut – strapped to a St. Andrew’s cross and alternately masturbated by Carla with a Fleshlight and lightly whipped across the back and ass by Nikki with a leather switch. Not being into pain much myself, I watched in amazement as the arousal from the Fleshlight mixed with the pain from the whipping to create a look of torment on his face that was so compelling it made me shudder with what I wasn’t sure was dread or excitement.
            It was probably both.
            Finally the man came, came into the Fleshlight Carla stroked him with while Nikki whipped him and chastised him for liking the pain so much and Kyomi looked on, one hand between her legs.
            And then they got to me.
            At that point I was so aroused by having watched the three nearly naked vixens manipulating helpless men over and over that my cock was twitching and pulsing without anyone even touching it.
            I say it changed me, what happened then. Well, it did. How, you ask? What did they do?
            Did they masturbate me?
            No.
            Did they whip me?
            No.
            Did they let me come?
            Not even that.
            Mistress Carla went first. She laid back on the bed and beckoned me over with the curl of one finger. Slipping off her skimpy panties she said, ‘Now it’s your turn. You get to be last. And in some ways, the most special. Because you are here to serve.’ She parted her legs as Kyomi came behind me to uncuff my wrists.
Carla’s arousal over the evening’s events was plain, as her pink folds glistened with moisture, her intoxicating scent rising and reaching my senses. I looked in her eyes and suddenly understood my purpose.
‘I have it on reliable authority that you are good with your tongue,’ she whispered.
Mistress Nikki and Mistress Kyomi settled on the bed too, one on either side of Carla as I started my oral worship on her. Normally I like to nuzzle and tease a bit with my lips and tongue on thigh and tummy. But we were both too far gone for that. Her little bud was wet and stiff and I took it between my lips and lapped it the way I was dying for someone to lap the aching tip of my dick. She tipped her head back and moaned out her pleasure, but then looked down again to continue watching me service her with my mouth. I increased my speed a little and pushed a finger inside, then two. Feeling her start to thrust up a bit I kept up the speed for a moment, then backed off a little. Her sigh at that moment made me shift up on the bed a bit, because even the pressure of the bed against my cock while listening to that sigh was too much.
‘Oo, yes, girls, he’s good,’ she moaned. ‘Oh god, wait’ll you get your turn. Fuck!’ she panted, as I upped the speed again, working her gspot with my two digits inside her.
That’s when I realized I would be their oral slave for the night. I would finish servicing Carla, then move to Nikki, over to Kyomi, before Nikki decided she needed it again, this time with me strapped to the bed while she rode my face with her cunt, screaming like the wild banshee she was in that moment.
And during all of my service they rarely touched me. But I stayed hard. And not just because serving three gorgeous women orally is the most intoxicating turn on of my life. But also because they tormented me with comments like:
‘Aw, look at how stiff his prick is! He must be really frustrated.’
‘You have to be a really slutty, naughty little boy to be so turned on by licking pussy.’
‘That’s it. Hold your little cum in your balls. You’re here to please us.’
‘You exist to give us pleasure. If we decide we want pleasure from your fuck stick we’ll let you know. Right now just keep licking.’
In between these comments, one of the two who was not being serviced might stroke my straining shaft quickly, up and down in a few, brief, amazingly arousing strokes. I would groan into the pussy I was licking and then hear giggling. ‘Hold it in, slave boy!’ But that was all.
After Nikki was finished with me, Carla lay down next to where I was restrained on the bed.
‘You’re in luck, slave,’ she said softly, drawing lines down my naked chest, pinching my nipples and making me moan with pent up lust. ‘I’m in the mood to fuck tonight.’ She sat up and moved to straddle me. ‘Just remember: your purpose is as my fuck stick.’ She swung a leg over. ‘So don’t you dare come.’
Oh god, the torturous bliss as she eased her tight, wet snatch down onto my aching rod. I was not normally so eager, I could usually manage some control, but the teasing, the pussy licking, all that I had seen all night, plus the words she had just spoken had me close already. I closed my eyes and battled my urges as she began to ride my cock.
‘Aw, are you close already?’ Carla whispered, no doubt noticing my struggling. ‘You’re in luck because I’m close tonight myself. Your hard cock feels so good. If you can last just a little bit longer, you’ll make me come.’
Oh, how her words did not help the situation! I hovered close, knowing I’d never last watching and feeling her thrash on top of me. But suddenly I felt a sharp, jarring pain on my inner thigh and I yelped out. I looked down to see Mistress Nikki leaning over my legs from the foot of the bed with an evil smile. ‘Thought you could use a little helpful pinch,’ she said.
The pinch of course didn’t slow Carla down. She took advantage of my suddenly decreased arousal and began riding me in earnest, grinding her pussy down hard, fucking herself onto me, over and over. Her orgasm, when it came, was nothing like I’d seen, not soft or lady like, but hard and animalistic. She came, eyes closed, with hard grunts and guttural growls that, I must admit, were way sexier than anything I’d ever seen in porn or real life. At that moment I knew I really was just a pole, a piece of meat for her to assuage her lust. The physical sensation of her pussy contracting around my cock coupled with this feeling of being used as a sex toy made my seed boil in my balls once again.
But Carla was easing herself off of me. ‘Phew!’ she giggled, looking at the girls. ‘That was good.’ She yawned. ‘I don’t know about you girls, but I’m pretty tired. Shall I send this one back now? Call it a night?’
‘Maybe,’ Mistress Kyomi nodded. ‘I have an early Pilates class in the morning.’
‘Mistresses!’ I said, still tied to the bed. ‘Please!’ I glanced down at my throbbing shaft.
The three of them sat blinking at me, then looked at each other. Finally Nikki spoke.
‘I don’t know. Are you in the mood to watch a slave come again?’ she asked the other two.
‘Not really,’ Kyomi said. ‘We watched the first two! I thought this one was our winner, our work horse.’
Oh god! Were they really planning to leave me like this? Send me home with this aching hard on, only to dream about the nights events, hold it in the spank vault?
‘Please, I beg you! I’m desperate!’
‘Shhh,’ Carla spoke to me then, stroking my hair. ‘That really wasn’t what you were for, little boy. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a choice. I will stroke you now and make you spurt your little mess, if that’s what you want.’ Oh god, yes it was. ‘Or,’ she went on. ‘Or you can understand that your desire is not relevant here. Here, you exist to please us. And if you understand that and you’d like to choose that option,’ she paused a moment and smiled at the two others, then back at me. ‘Well then… you may return.’
***
The 51 year old man you see now may look the same. He may sound the same. He may wear the same clothes and do the same job. But let me assure you, he is not the same. I am not the same. I am changed.
            I was not given an orgasm that day. Nor the next time I spent with them, nor the next. I don’t know if they’ll ever let me come with them, if they’ll ever release me in their presence. That is not the point. The point is that I am theirs. When I am there I live to serve them. I put their needs always above my own. I am their toy. Their slave.
            And in being their slave… I am free.